With love....

29th July 2009 9:45 am

It pains me immensely to type this out..and the last thing that I would want is a post on my blog..

My beloved Thatha, K .Ramachandran breathed his last..May he be relieved of his long drawn suffering.May his soul rest in peace.

Walking Backwards

Entering the final year in college is quite a funny thing. On the one hand, I'm feeling sort of relieved to finally be at the fag end of my engineering life cycle. Not that I did not enjoy it while I was here, its just that there is such a thing known as TOO much studying (or engineering - whichever you prefer) and I'm glad to be moving on to bigger (and hopefully better) things. And so, while I sat back reminiscing on how time just flew by during my three years here, I realised how different this was from entering the 12th standard while in school. Okay, obviously it is quite different considering that one is associated with one's school for way longer than with one's college. But, it just made me ponder over how different we were then and how unrecognisable I would be to my former school self.
Its a very commong thing for students in school to fantasise about going to college and you know, having THE time of their lives. But I never really felt that way. I was quite happy in school and was in no hurry to get to college (yeah...I can hear you screaming NERD! but that's just how I was). Now, I went to an all girls' convent (one of the other reasons why people fail to comprehend why I wanted to stay in school :P). But, I think I can safely say that I did have a great time while in school, and I think I wouldn't be wrong if I said that sometimes, college doesn't even begin to compare to school. First up, kids in school have a way better idea about having fun than their counterparts in college. While in college, you'll need to shell out a great deal of dough to have a "fun" time - for eg. going for a movie, followed by food (or booze if that's your thing) and then finally crashing at a disc - whereas an average school kid has a great deal more fun than that by engaging in a highly adventurous and exhilarating bout of the - NEWSPAPER FIGHT! Kids know how to enjoy the simple things in life - something we lose to the Levi's and the Lee Coopers when we get to college. Oh,and the yearly ritual of the school picnic - ours was a toss-up between either Nehru Park or the Lodhi Garden (I still remember grimacing whenever I heard that we were going to either of those two AGAIN)- was totally something else. I still remember the way we used to gape and joke (quite rudely) at the "uncles and aunties" trying to well, have an excursion of their own in the bushes while in the park. Oh, and the ultimate weapon of destruction, the FRISBEE could be seen flying all over the place with adrenaline-charged kids running after it for all their life's worth.
As far as studies went, well I might sound vain when I say this but me and Mallika(co-conspirator and partner in crime) were pretty much the "teacher's pets" in the most biblical sense of the word. Though I might add that I wasn't as neurotic and nerve-wrecked as she was ( she was more like the teachers' lap dog :P), still I did have my "nerdy" moments (and its really not as bad and geeky as it sounds - instant gratification never hurt anyone :D). This obviously singled us out as the class enemies and we had our classmates plotting and scheming to turn us against each other(divide and rule personified) in ways that would put Ekta Kapoor and her entire brigade of vamps to shame. So, I had people coming up to me saying how egoistic and nerdy Mallika was, and people would go up to her and chime about how I had told them a "non-veg" joke (biggest crime that one could get penalised for in the SIXTH grade) which was obviously an apt reflection of my "poor" character :P. But, in the end, I guess Harry Potter sealed our friendship forever (nobody could get through something as sanctimonious as THAT). And finally, in the ninth grade, we committed the ultimate act of treason - we BUNKED class ( although unintentionally, though I usually leave out this minor detail - doesn't sound as cool :P). The teachers were in shock as if their worst nightmares had somehow come to life. But, still we got through unscathed (though I'm not too sure about Mallika - she seemed to be having a nervous breakdown and a panic attack at the same time - I looked quite callous next to her :D) and managed to retain our dignity too, till of course the time when we recounted this incident during our 12th standard assembly to the principal's horror (I was quite smug though :P).
There are too many memories attached with school - the chemistry lab for instance - our lab attendant tearing his hair out at the amount of salt we took for our experiments ("salt khaana hai kya?"), and that one fateful day when I managed to break a beaker, a pipette and a test-tube within a span of 20 minutes (the attendant said he had never seen somebody wreak so much havoc during the 25 years that he had spent in the lab). Then, there was that one time in the tenth grade, when I yawned right in the face of the maths teacher ( I was in the front seat and I didn't even bother to cover my mouth). She obviously got the hint, but she went on (I've never felt so ignored in my life :D). Oh, and then during Chemistry class in the 11th grade with Mr. Khilnani (the only male teacher in our school - poor guy- not that he deserved any pity, the tyrant that he was). I really needed to go the loo and it seemed like the class just wouldn't end. Of course, it didn't help that he was teaching about "fluid pressure" during the class.
So, I guess that's enough about my rant about school. I could not have asked for a better school experience than the one I had at Mater Dei. But, more importantly, I don't think that it would have been as memorable without Potter (yep, that's what Mallika was in school...though I'm not too sure now :D). All the fun we had, the experiences we shared, all the fights and then the making up...everything just forms a very colourful mosaic which will always be a part of my life.

School really is cool.

Nikhita

I had a vision..

I have got over my phase of viewing reruns of episodes of my favourite superhero- Superman. However somewhere in the subconscious he still dwells….and probably that was why I recently dreamt of having X-ray vision. Now, one wouldn’t want to ponder on what are the advantages..ahem of having this peculiar boon but this has definitely made me open my eyes to the vision, I lack (leave alone X-ray; I don’t have the normal night vision too). I hear that constant cackle of complaints around me against bad haircuts, dentist nightmares or for the matter of fact- the chubby syndrome( a polite term for the obese). I on the other hand feel as if the whole world around me is a bad television.

Having stuck in this myopic stage since a tender age; my eyes have been caged behind frames of a myriad kind. Having a deep disgust and disregard for them, my ‘callousness’ ensured that they never lasted too long(read: losing them in water; I guess you wouldn't want the details.... or getting repeatedly smacked on the face till they fall off etc etc..) How I wished it was the same with the ‘geek’ and ‘nerd’ name-calling.

And as I broke another pair and ruined my lenses(unintentionally of course ; wink) I realized it had its advantages too…

1.       You can always look through certain unwanted entities and if confronted can blame it on bad vision.

2.       You can avoid work (people ‘politely’ refuse to let you carry things around, college blackboard not visible=no need to take down notes).

3.       Source of pity…a way to get attention (you need to squint in an orderly fashion to convince).

However my reader’s will agree with me that nothing’s better than to see the world in its full colour and grandeur with the miracle that has been bestowed upon us…as Ruskin Bond truly puts it…”The eyes have it”.

Gossip Girl(s)

I've been living in the hostel for almost three years now and I thought it worth my while to document a widespread affliction amongst girls viz. gossiping. Now, the dictionary defines gossip as "casual or unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true", but in the hostel it becomes much more.
Now, the victims of gossip are of myriad kinds, but the ones who act "too big for their shoes" or the ones who are oh-so "la-di-dah" are the preferred ones. Any girl with exceptionally good hair or a flawless complexion or an attractive physique or anything remotely good about her will undoubtedly become the butt of various speculative conversations, the main aim of which is, without exception, to list her hitherto non-existent "flaws". So, somebody with good hair might actually be talking to 4 different boys at odd times during the night, information courtesy "the girl's room-mate's friend's room-mate's sister who is a junior and is living nowhere close to the girl in question" , but surprisingly we are ready to believe such a "reliable" source with such vicious faith - its actually quite cruel. In fact, there's nothing more macabre than watching a group of girls gossiping away to glory, the result being that somebody who was "miss goody-two-shoes" till yesterday might now be referred to as a "wolf in sheep's skin". You have good skin? - you must definitely be having exceptionally intolerable B.O. ; you have a good dressing sense?- it obviously means you have an attitude problem; have a good physique?- liposuction anyone?; you get good grades? - you use people as a ladder to get to the top; you name it - they have something on you to bring you down. Now, you might be thinking that gossiping is limited to those out to get each other - you could not be more wrong! Its amazing how much your best friend talks about you behind your back and rest assured - she's not eulogising you. I have to hand it to such girls though - the kind of things they can gauge just by giving you a cursory glance - "oh the one with the silver earrings? Yeah, she's a kleptomaniac" - they don't even know your name yet. So, this is an ode to all those girls who gossip to spice up their otherwise monotonous lives - character-assasination being their sport of choice!

Nikhita

The Inside Story

As part of the college magazine team I have been working on some editorials for the past month.During the course of putting together various articles and scrapping away quite a few(read: tearing my hair over them),I decided to put up one article which has been inspired by most of my own experiences as well as inputs from my enthusiastic friends.I gave the title as The Inside Story...

THE   INSIDE   STORY

 

Here’s to a different take on what actually occupies the inner recesses of the mind of students during lectures, labs and seminars at our college( or I should rightly state that “the general trend observed in that similar species called engineering college goe-er’s”;  wink).

The precautionary tagline comes henceforth as the picture does not seem too rosy .The sea of students who appear…mind; just appear to be engulfing knowledge are actually  being bogged down with some pretty disturbing thoughts. After having spoken to a good number of students( who of course want their identity to remain anonymous) I jotted down a few  of their ponderings……

 

 

@ Lectures

Lectures mean a lot to our students and when I approached them with this question the responses that I got….

 

1.       “Excuse me???? What??!!!”

(Apparently suffered from the temporary ‘ I am ignoring you by acting deaf’ syndrome..hehe)

2.       “OFF; OFF; OFF!!!!”

(That anthem which soothes the ears.Wonder how the chaotic noise from different sources at different pitches, sound to that one silent , dignified source which receives it??????)

3.       “Yawn!! If Sir walks this way wake me up..”

(Read: My eyelids won’t remain open even if I  crowbarred toothpicks into them.

Conclusion: Bachi hui(or not) neend ko pura karna)

4.       “Why has the attendance sheet not been circulated till now?”

(After all, a platform to exercise new handwriting styles..hope you caught the drift.)

5.       “I am a little loaded today…Aye please take it off …21 ki proxy laga na!!!!

(That effervescent personality comes bubbling to the surface at this point of time.The most awaited activity during.. or wait!! Should I say at the end of the lectures.)

6.       “Oh yaar!! Roll no. nikal gaya….maam; maam”

(For those beauties who went the snoring way)

7.       “Hollywood-Bollywood, Bingo,  Zero-Crosses, Name-Place-Animal-Thing, Sudoku”

(Yipee!!! Recreation hour.)

8.       “ Pass the journal sheets.(By whispering or via chit system.)”

(Rate of writing is directly proportional to rate of speaking of the lecturer in class.)

9.       X: - “Bluetooth on kar na.”

Y: - “Can’t you wait a minute. I am texting.”

(Proven: - The cellphone ought not to be exposed to children; snigger)

10.   V: - “I didn’t understand this particular equation”

(Grinding teeth; the one who is accidently paying attention in class today)

W: - “Which unit is going on?”

(Grinding teeth ;Grinding chalk and giving murderous glares to V.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

@ Labs

Labs are crucial. So we found our correspondents a little sober and grim but they assured us that there have been and will be good old memories…

 

1.       “Kya karna hai? What is going on? What is this scary looking equipment?”

(The usual clueless state. I am willing to assume it as lack of sleep.)

2.       “Do bunk ho gaye; pause for harassed look; will I be there in defaulters?”

(Something to converse upon since the experiments are nowhere near to penetrating the head.)

3.       “Cut, Copy, Paste.”

(Comp to comp or pendrive to comp…stealthily or unabashedly.)

4.       “Two hours…groan!!! Stomach is grumbling.”

(For the foodie, who is currently drooling over her fantasy puff from the canteen.)

5.       “That bright sun; the clouds so white; that blue bird.”

( Nature and technology in sync. Read: experiment is still not penetrating the head.)

6.       “Patch cord tails!!!!  hehe”

(Experiment just refuses to enter the head.)

7.       “The hands of the clock move so slowly!!!!”

( To blame on universal laws and curse the general fate.)

8.       “ Why  are so many corrections in journals given?”

(Makes you get up from your unfinished sleep and mutter curses under your breath. As it is you are not able to configure the experiment and are depending on some reliable source. So this provides ample time pass for two hours.)

9.       “ Maam excuse me from the lab. It is urgent.”

( With a spring in the step our person visits the washroom, empties and refills the water bottles and does general time pass in front of the notice-boards.)

10.   M: -“Copy maar na readings; teach me later on how we went about it.”

N : - “Maam told me to press this button and that; toh phir kar diya(sheepish grin).

(Conclusion: - Bang your head on the wall. Experiment has not been understood by any living soul in the lab, even the reliable source.)

Black

I've blacked out.

The inner recesses of my mind has been bogged with black for sometime now.As the world whirls past me,the black stays,like a blur,reflecting a deep thought in my black eyes.

I run my fingers along my black locks thinking of the times when I have felt elevated listening to Pearl Jam's 'Black'. The rhythm, so strong,Vedder's voice so powerful, that it takes me into the black realms and when I close my eyes the world vanishes into oblivion.

And sometimes when darkness falls and it is black, I see myself in fear.Fear of the unknown,yet to come or the past which creeps along like a venomous snake.

The time when the world is at my feet and smiling to myself, all I can see is the black beyond;untouched and yet to be conquered.

When the void,the vaccum brings about serenity in the soul or the mourning which cleaves the mind to fragments.The world captured in black which mystifies its very being.The silence and the chaos.

The black which sometimes  makes me radiate the positive, empowers me.

Pearl Jam's Black

Sheets of empty canvas 

Untouched sheets of clay 
Were laid spread out before me 
As her body once did 
All five horizons 
Revolved around her soul 
As the earth to the sun 
Now the air I tasted and breathed 
Has taken a turn 
Ooh and all I taught her was everything 
Ooh I know she gave me all that she wore 
And now my bitter hands 
Chafe beneath the clouds 
Of what was everything 
Oh the pictures have 
All been washed in black 
Tattooed everything 
I take a walk outside 
I'm surrounded by 
Some kids at play 
I can feel their laughter 
So why do I sear 
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin 
Round my head 
I'm spinning 
Oh, I'm spinning 
How quick the sun can, drop away... 
And now my bitter hands 
Cradle broken glass 
Of what was everything 
All the pictures had 
All been washed in black 
Tattooed everything 

All along I lived in a rainbow world,bright and sunny loving all the hues which made life so colourful. But somewhere I forgot the 'hueless', the one which brings with it the completeness.

 

Don't take back the city from me...

The wails reached his ears.He could no longer wait.He looked over to his wife , then sprang to his feet and proceeded towards the room with a spring in his step.His happiness knew no bounds...

FLASHBACK:

17th July 1988 1:32 pm

As the monsoon drenched the city high and low, somewhere in a ward in Nobel Hospital,Indore a lineage had continued.Ramachandran looked on and on at the new arrival,at the tightly shut eyes,tightened fist and miniscule fingers.He then twirled his fingers around the jet black locks of the baby; feeling exalted.His first grandchild,born in the city which saw his whole life....

FORWARD:

I, Mallika was born in Indore.

Indore with its Chappan dukan,Palasia,Meghdoot and Rajwada.

With its 'pakwaan' and sweets.

With the plateaus,the black soil underneath the feet and the rains.

With abundant cotton and cloth.

With a blend of the north and the south.

Indore with its thriving zeal.

There is a lot more to it which never catches my eye and probably I might never be able to fathom as well as my grandfather does.

For him it is his life, a part of his soul,embodiment of his spirit.

It was in 1966 when my grandfather decided to finally settle down in Indore.With his work at the textile mills and his children to be educated,he lay down the foundation for his love for the city. My grandmother, a devout, godfearing woman left her home deep down in Kerala to settle down with her husband.Something that she still talks about with a sparkle in her eyes is the way visitors used to throng their household and how she practically spent the entire day cooking three course South Indian meals.The youngest of her children( my aunt) walked her first steps in Indore.My mother ran about in her frocks in the city's gardens; her brothers chasing wildly after her.The very city whose Bum kachori waala brought about yelps of delight from the four children.(My uncle is still very nostalgic about it).When my mother and her sister fought their cold sisterly wars while bicycling through the lanes of Palasia.( One such incident led to my mother falling in the gutter..something for which she still holds a grudge against her sister).And then it was time to go to college;where the typical 'goondas' followed the sisters around.Or where my grandmother sang away to glory; her canatic music so appreciated that she got her break in radio and got covered by media.A place where she was afraid that her immense talent would get stagnant,she strived not only to keep the music in her alive but pass the knowledge down to generations.Where my grandfather was one of the pioneers of the South Indian Association and chaired the association's school.The city which not only gave them fame and respect but also a lot of love.

They faced a lot of hardships. His job.Their health.Their children moving away one by one,getting married.But there was never a time in 20 years when the thought crossed their minds to wrap up their lives in Indore and move in with their children.

My mother got married first.She made me an Indorian...My aunt's first child, my cousin Divya was also born in Nobel hospital exactly after a year I was born.Our favourite holiday spot was to be in Indore, among the milling crowd, among the hundred's of my grandparents' friends.

I am finding it difficult to type anymore.This past year I have had some very difficult moments.My grandfather who has been battling with cancer for sometime now came for a major surgery to Delhi.

The fact that he is unwell gives me nightmares.But the other day he mumbled,tired and exhausted, to my mother, to give away their house in Indore.

My mother got almost tongue tied as she told me this, gathering courage from within her which on the other hand was yelling away in protest.

I held the reciever and my mother's voice drifted in,trying to explain to me how they were too weak to go back now.I felt a knot in my throat,my eyes cringed and blinked too much and as I faced reality, I cried, cried like I had never before. They are probably never going back and living their lives as they used to.

And now as I wipe away the stray tear that had fallen while I was typing, I  feel remorse for my home for I might never find it to be the same place again.....   

MALLUISM

It's wait for it....

This post goes out to the one who coined this phenomenon..(Anu)

Too much addiction to something leads to hazardous consequences( I wonder what course of action I will take) anyway...she has lately been obsessed with the tv sitcom How I met your mother.( The more I see it,the more I adore Barney and find Lily and Marshall irritating a la Ross and Rachael as aforementioned by Nikhita in the post Whatup!?.As for Anu she has probably seen..(I have lost count) some of the episodes again and again and AGAIN...12th of second season,last of second season etc etc..The phenomenon probably sprung up from the sitcom,which is my guess.

And so my name was used as a verb a la ' poor Ted ' . Some of the conversations in which my name..ahem pet name featured in were-

1."Why are you looking so Mallued?"     :

When someone enters into the dream state mode and gets cut off from the conversation.

2. " Don't be such a Mallu about it"        :  

When someone gets particular and particular and  PARTICULAR and finicky.

3. "Mallu wali baat kar di na yaar!!!"     :  

OK this is getting embarrassing. I am feeling the heat now.

 For someone who enters into idiosyncracy.

Enough of getting myself butchered on a public site.As I was saying Anu after having suffered the 'pains' of tolerating me in my full blown element(read: irritating her on purpose.I seem to derive inane pleasure out of it;pause for devilish grin;and secretly I know she finds my nautankis cute) 

MALLUISM  was born.

And it has become a way of life for my friends..live life a la Mallika style.(snigger!!)

PS:- Even though I know that things seem wrong when I am not addressed as Mallu but, but....rolling my eyes. 

Not your rolling wheels....part III

And the final installment..

It has been nearly 6 years( yes that long!!) since I rode the Kinetic and somehow I never seemed to miss it or have pangs of longing, looking at others( even though my sister has had the fun of her life riding her's.Read: crashing into backside of cows and donkeys!! true story)

On a more serious note, I realized I needed a bike, when I came to Pune for my studies.Every one had it( and I did not succumb to peer pressure) but when the rates for taking a rick skyrocketed( It's also quite tedious to travel by bus) I decided to plead to my father( read: fight, argue and try to get my way).

But as you have gone through the past two reads,it is not easy to get my way around dad.

And I end up walking most of the time( at least the nearby places)I trust in it more strongly than ever now.

So daddy felt bad that maybe I was getting deprived of certain opportunities.

This led to waking me up at 6  in the morning on the first day of my after the semester holiday,in the freezing Delhi winter( and when I enquired grumpily, he answered about wanting to take me out for a morning walk???!!!!) After much protest and a rebellious fight he got me out of the house for his walk(!!!???)

All wrapped up in woollens I reached the porch of my house to find a car waiting with a vacant driver's seat and my father sitting beside it smiling a toothy grin.

Of course I was excited,apprehensive.It was an amalgam of emotions.I took to steering the wheel and maybe it was the first time I felt like I was flying.

The days went by...After I got the hang of the clutch and the break, the real test awaited me. It was no more '6 in the morning' drives for me( thank god!!!). It was worse.Now I took out the vehicle at 6 in the evening( boohoo).

Believe me; it was worse than my bicycle lessons and kinetic lessons.I thought  I was good at multi tasking but this??

The clutch.Gear change,clutch,break,accelerator,slow speed-gearchange.Clutch.Speed breaker,gear change,clutch.Crawling slowly in traffic jams.Rearview mirror,sideview mirrror!!People swerving past,changing lanes( which is irritating,even though they know you are a learner).

And dad not meting out; shouting out instructions( it's the most difficult when he teaches how to drive the car).

The finale' is yet to come...

It was two days before I left for Pune and dad caught me casting a longing look over to his car.I had never driven it and truthfully, was scared of it. Magnum Optra was huge and unpredictable to a rookie.

My father coaxed me to take it on.( read: getting butchered).

It ended with me crashing in on three cars at the same time.

( wait for it..though this was a spoiler..I must admit, with apologies to my not so modest nature, that I drove 6-7 kms beautifully(reversing,parking,u turns etal) and the one thing that my dad had not taught me...

YES ! and if you haven't guessed by now- THE SLOPE driving using the handbrake and once I neared the gates to my home, I could'nt get it over the ramp and there it goes.I end up giving scratches to three huge cars.My father averted further bankrupting damages by pulling the handbrakes on time.For the first time in my driving experience he grinned back. Maybe he was expecting it...I still cannot fathom what he thought.I got ripped off by my mother.My conscience torn to shreds.)

And here I am back in Pune now longing to take the car( magnum flies, literally!) on the highway.I had to learn the difficult way and this time round it will stay for sometime to come...

I am not your rolling wheels.....

I am the highway.

Mallika

Not your rolling wheels....part II

As I approach that gate along the dusty sidewalks of Indore, it brings back distinct memories. I look around sheepishly and just try to vanish into 'oblivion'.

In history; with time ,the motor was introduced.The manual sweating out decreased and man started experiencing bliss in the form of comfortable travelling.
I had moved on from the tricycle, bicycle to the Kinetic Honda.Oh yes, my teenage years saw me wearing a big smile on my face as I rode away to glory. My training started in Indore, as usual under my father who religiously sat pillion and meted out instructions.

(This was the time when I went into those "ignoring you" modes. Believe me, one feels great when the cool wind blows across your face and hair . You are speeding away into the infinite and all you have to do is to press the accelerator.)

Funny, that it sounds so picture perfect.(Of course it would when all the road belongs to you and you are driving at 6 in the morning)
So when, again my father left the vehicle to me and over that( I don't know why he does this to me) he helped my overexcited 4 year old kid brother to the pillion; I knew my fate was sealed so was Gautam's.
History was yet again repeated.But this time round, my grandfather's Kinetic got scarred for life. It would have all gone well had the darn slope not been there. (These slopes have nearly ruined everything. And this time round the story does'nt have a 'happy' ending...it ends in absurdity).
My bike was slipping off and I could do nothing to control it.( I was going against the ramp..ok I want to give it a different name...) After 15 min of frustrated accelerating I finally managed to pull it out on the road after which my brother hopped on.
The brat was so exalted about me driving him around,that he kept on jumping in his seat all along the bumpy road.( No dad around, was already giving me the jitters..he was walking on foot, a good distance behind us)
And yes I gate crashed..literally; thanks to Gautam's fidgeting. He fell and fortunately did'nt get hurt. I fell with the bike and pushed the accelerator . The tilted vehicle pulled me along with renewed vigour and ended its fateful journey by leaving a dent on the wrought iron gates.
All the scandalized people pulled up my howling brother( he did'nt even get as much as a scrape) and all had their glaring eyes upon me( they did'nt even pick me up from under the weight of the vehicle!)
By then my father arrived shouting his head off at me for not pressing the breaks and for putting my brother's life at risk.

( Ok; so where did justice die?! That's what happens when 'daddy' is not there to supervise, when that is his prime job and unnecessary brotherly additions as pillion riders)

I still am not comfortable riding a bike... I have forgotten probably and haven't tried renewing those skills since then. As for now I really enjoy pillion riding.
And the Kinetic? Its back there in Indore wrapped up in a dusty sheet. All this has not only put an end to my glorious bike riding future( I went back to my bicycle) but also tainted my grandfather's reputation.( The gate belonged to the school where my grandfather was the chairman.The talk is still doing the circles)

More to come...
Mallika

Rab Ne Paise Waste Karaaye :P

Ok..before I write anything I would like to confess that I'm not a huge SRK fan...wait let me rephrase that...I loathe (read I barf whenever I see him) SRK...So, with all due respect to all the fans out there...this article might seem a little biased ( really, you might want to stay away from it altogether). So anyway, I went to see this movie because well I had no more classes that day and had nothing better to do ( I repent that thought till this day). Now, with my past experience of SRK movies, I was obviously not expecting much from the movie - really, I had gone fully prepared ( read I had left my brains at home). But, apparently even that wasn't enough to survive this one. So, while SRK "ji" dished out his oh-so-adorable ( retarded anyone???) lines for miss High Flying Tani "ji" ( sure, she looks good- but I mean that's why she is in the movie right? - we don't really expect actresses to really "act" now do we?), I sat cringing in my seat, wondering who to curse more - myself or the people sobbing away to glory all around me. Well, to tell you the truth, I too was crying - at the lack of story, the pathetic dialogues or the lack of them ( really, after every 2.5 dialogues, the actors burst into tears...Boy, YRF sure stocks a lot of glycerine)...But wait, not all was downhill with the movie - the saving grace was Vinay "maccccccccchhhhho" Pathak who delights with his comic relief act. He's really become comfortable with comic roles. OK that's enough...now back to where we were...yeah movie-bashing...so I would really like an explanation as to how a wife doesnt recognise her husband after a really not-so-dramatic makeover...rab to aisi jodi na hi banaye jisme wife husband ko pehchaan hi na paaye...and the very predictable ( monotonous) end literally brought me to the end of my tether "ji"...So, my new year resolution is very obvious just like a SRK-Aditya Chopra movie end - NO MORE SUCH MOVIES FOR ME.
Adios
nikhita

Not your rolling wheels...part I

Lines from " I am the highway".


This is one of my favourite numbers by Audioslave, however it has nothing much to do with this post except for having stirred my imagination to write something remotely related to it. So as I listened to this number pensively, I realized how much I admire the sweet lord for giving us humans; legs.... Yes, because I have learnt to rely only on those, having been through some unfortunate incidents early in my life.


( Though I must say that later when I pondered over them, I was guffawing all over the place)


So it happens that the child learns about the faster means of travelling and I was introduced to my very first tricycle.

I managed pretty well. Ofcourse everything was right about it.( supports et-al) My legs too would touch the ground incase... Nothing much happened around it with the exception of some scrapes and bruises which again was because of my rash driving( It's true, It's true. Children pick up all this wrong stuff at a very tender stage).

Next came the bicycle and I did'nt like it much. I was shedding silent protest tears when my father removed the supports from them.

( And probably I will branch off just a wee bit to tell you that when it comes to" modes of transport" practice sessions with my dad..It is terror unleashed. He however maintains that this grim look makes the children learn.I wonder whether he still thinks that when I execute the crashing sessions)

So the practice arena for the bicycle was ; oh my god; nothing short of the skateboarding ramp.I still remember vividly the road outside our house in south Delhi, so hilly! you could actually fall off the edges. And everything goes fine till my father has an eagle's eye over me. Once he leaves it to me(groan!!)...( this is the last day usually, for all practice sessions).The worst wound of my life( it scarred my knee) was when the bicycle whooshed down the slopes to nearly kill me. My hands and legs flailing in mid-air, it managed to dump me off in a thicket before continuing on its free spirited ride.

As I wiped off the tears pouring down my muddy face, I resolved to conquer that wild spirit.

And so it was done.My final practice session crash made me a pro( humble apologies for my modesty) at cycling.

The story however continues....

Till then

Mallika

What Up?!

If the title of this post did not ring a bell in your mind, I suggest you read no further - just for the simple reason that you won't comprehend the emotions stuck with this phrase...and for those who do recognise this phrase...well, all i can say is that you're LEGEN-"wait for it"-DARY...yup, I am talking about that fabulous sitcom of all time - How I Met Your Mother...And for all those Friends lovers , I just have two words for you - Barney Stinson...there is no character on any sitcom which comes even close to this fella...He really is a class act - his nonchalant attitude, his "on-the-go" wisecracks and of course his never-ending obsession with...wait for it...HIMSELF makes him truly endearing. And moving on to his friends, Marshall and Lily ( and let me say this for the last time - Marshall is way more intelligent than dim-witted Ross) - they make a sweet couple without all the overt emotional brouhaha; Robin (a favourite with the boys I'm sure) - she portrays the character of the professionally inclined woman with that "missing ingredient" in her personal life with ease...and finally we come to Ted Moseby - yes the oh-so-cute guy-next-door ( do i hear the girls go "awwwwww"?). Together, the six of them create a LEGEN-"yes, i know this is the third time i've used it in the blog" - DARY show which never fails to crack me up - and for all those of you who are still stuck in the Friends mode- rise and shine folks, this really is the 21st century...no seriously I'm not kidding- its time to stop watching the repeats...I mean really, i hate to burst your bubble but mugging Joey's lines isn't going to get you a girl ( im sorry if that hurt :P)...and Phoebe's inane acts and dialogues aren't cute - I'm pretty sure they indicate a negative IQ...so all i can say is- get a grip on reality and go watch the "Barnicle(TM) treat" - you will really be doing yourself a huge favour. As for us long-time fans, all we can say is WHAT UP!!!!!

PS: Well, since I need a new identity to sign off ( so that I don't get ripped off by the other "contributor" to this blog...talk about creative plagiarism)...I guess I'll keep it as....nikhita (surprise!!! OK i know that was a bad one...)
Adios Amigos

The Legend that is LOTR

LOTR - The mere mention of those 4 syllables bring a wave of excitement, wonder, amazement and other indescribable feelings upon me. The Lord of The Rings is without doubt my favourite movie till date. I know that it is very difficult for people to mark a particular movie as their favourite but for me LOTR is the exception. I simply can't find anything wrong with the movie. For starters , it has an amazing story - thanks to the incredible power of imagination of Mr. Tolkien. But, for me, the real magic of the movie lies in the way that the movie has been brought on screen - its like a portrait on celluloid. Peter Jackson is one hell of a director and has done a commendable job with LOTR.The movie has been flawlessly executed. The cinematography is breathtaking and its like all the characters of the movie come alive on screen. Even the most unimportant of characters has been dealt with perfectly , and Mr. Jackson's attention to detail is simply astounding. Also, despite all the special effects the movie boasts of, the larger-than-life landscapes, the seemingly unreal premise of the story in today's context - the movie manages to harbour a lot of simplicity, thus making it all the more beautiful. Its a simple tale of friendship, love and honour and the fact that all the special effects and other "distractions" do not take that away from the movie is an evidence of the film-making prowess of the director and his entire crew. Also , the actors in the movie are outstanding. Everybody has done a phenomenal job but my personal favourites are Sam, Aragorn and Gandalf. Sam's friendship ( which is bordering on devotion) with Frodo is highly touching and the last 30 minutes of the Return of the King always manage to move me to tears. Aragorn is honour and chivalry personified - a resplendent figure on the battlefield with wild, flowing locks of hair, armed with nothing more than a sword and hope in his heart ( and of course , he looks HOT) - he evokes emotions in me which are of too complex a nature as to be specified in words. And then , Gandalf the Grey - the beacon of all things good - never once does his age manage to overpower his zest for saving the world. LOTR truly is a phenomenon and will never cease to be - it really is the epic of our lifetime.

I Had A Dream...

"Sapnon se bhare naina, to neend hai na chaina" - These are the first few words of a song from the movie "Luck By Chance"... The song is indeed beautiful, with a very strong Indian classical influence and has been rendered exceptionally well by the extremely talented Shankar Mahadevan...Anyway, I'm not going to talk about the acoustic aesthetics of the song here. The afore-mentioned phrase just sort of stuck itself somewhere inside the depths of my subconscious brain and continues to force me to evaluate the status of the dreams that I once had... And on that particular list, I seem to have accomplished nothing and the funny thing is that its not because I haven't been able to fulfill my dreams but because I've somehow managed to forget what they actually were...I know it sounds cliched when I say that we had loads of ambitions and dreams when we were kids - some unrealistic, some highly impossible - yet we were dreaming...we were evolving. But now, my life is stuck between the Networking lecture I have to attend today and the Compiler lab assignment I have to submit tomorrow and and Physics test next week...So where is the time to dream? Or have i stopped dreaming to stop myself from being disappointed when those dreams fade away like words on the sand? We are supposed to be engineering which in literal terms means to innovate...to imagine...to dream. So, is this rut of assignments that I'm stuck in really engineering? Because if it is, I'm sorry to say it really is a fruitless pursuit. I know for one that my intellectual prowess has, if not diminished, stagnated. I once read somewhere that "Dreams are not those that you see when you sleep...Dreams are those that do not let you sleep"...poignant words those. So, maybe my brain has gone into "slumber" mode without my realising it.

Prayer...

I pray, pray with so much of faith, for my grandfather; to get well soon.One of my greatest idols,my life without him will be bleak.And I am scared to admit that I am scared.I hope that my hope sees its end.I pray for his will to make him pull through.May courage never leave us and our prayers be heard.

      I love you so very much, K.Ramachandran, my dearest 'Thatha'.

Words

Maybe I have been reading too much of fiction or the cancerian(read: dreamer to the limit) in me has become effusive; for a few days back I was thrilled to find a small yellowing piece of paper with five lines in the most lucid and ornate cursive.

With a liking for antiques and sometimes,as a child having dreamt of finding something long and forgotten in some dusty volume; the very thing happened when I stood on tiptoe to take out a '64 edition oxford dictionary from the bookshelf.They were written nearly thirty five years ago by my uncle.

These are those lines:

Watches tick the minute away;

Clocks strike the hour;

With the sands of time running out fast;

One day,we hope to sit back and think; 

"Of a life well spent,in sweet content."

Words touched me.Words failed me. 

And the mundanities continue....

So the' first ladies' got hooked and booked  by their respective first men.And probably following that they are being cooked or cooking their respective spouses...(bang: back to square one where kitchen centric terms relate to the assumed boring life of a married woman; yuck!) .Ok maybe I am still not in that phase( and may never be) to appreciate the way so many, like my mother think.

These celebrity wives on the new talk show by designers Abu and Sandeep are starry- eyed and gush over being the perfect subservient wives to their ultra successful husbands and accompany them in glittering society do's. That's not the end of it- I was scandalized when my mother expressed a desire to catch Oprah and her never ending' agony aunt' tales a few years back but maybe my mutinous and 'rolling of the eyes' look stopped her short( Thank god for that!).

The usual flicking of channels made me come across Gtalk on Mtv and five minutes into the show blew my brains out ( great,giggly,girly..oh please spare me the agony!!).

And as I found out last night that my soon going to be married cousin has changed his status to 'committed'; I wondered about this hooking business..the rhetorical popping of the question? majority of women in the shadows here too.Turn the tables (women emancipation?) what say?

As for me I am determined to hook and book for myself

and the women saga shows continue....

The Last Second

I am staring at the page....I am still staring at the page( I have been absent from the writing scene for quite sometime now;read: lazing around or no umm maybe my fingers just became numb from the extensive cold wave that has hit the city).

And so another year creeps in.The night of revelry, this time, made no difference to my cold and cough and pms ahem, ahem(no, I will not lose my optimism) and in between the advertisements( oh yes! I was tucked away cozily into my blanket watching Jack Sparrow sorry Captain Jack Sparrow live up to his eccentricity. He has been by far my favourite actor ) I retrospected on the tumultous year that just went by before the clock hands joined and rockets shot up to the sky.( I just realized without much concern for the fact that I rhymed back there)

The acerbic tone comes from the fact that I was stuck and maybe exhausted of being the mascot for singlehood(peer pressure does get to you sometimes) and I was getting stagnant creatively( which happens at most twice a year). The trauma of my debacles throughout the year and also it's really really cold ( and the lazy being that I am..) made me sink into the depths of my blanket.

And when the last second had struck my brother leaned over and hugged me .I tweaked up my nose and felt a cringing pain at the corner of my eyes and before I could howl away to glory, some small little part of me deep down inside bid goodbye to another year, another month, another week, another day, another minute, another second which had brought an immense difference to my life. 

And maybe more terrorism will be seen in the coming year,maybe the Israelis will go on more of their bombing spree and maybe the recession will not land me a job...but as I sit expecting the unexpected ( before howling over my brother's shoulder as I hug him); I expect(along with those unexpected expectations)  a little more change with every second, by every life, to bring about a little more sanity into our world.

And now my fingers have become numb...returning to the warm gloves.

however I will write the P.S. before that

P.S.-' thought' for my new year( I am not a serious one for resolutions) -staying single for as long as possible;.... atleast not this year.

Happy 2009 (  ahaa.. ..adds up to 11 and then to 2....makes no difference to me whatsoever).

(wink) .