Storms, clouds and some sunshine…

I was cleaning my cupboard last evening with a dogged resolve that I would finish with this torment without postponing it even further. I was also simultaneously washing clothes and cooking to break the monotony of dusting, cleaning and changing papers.

As I reached the fourth level of my cupboard where I stack books, I managed to very successfully topple the whole lot onto the floor very clumsily. Between loud sneezes and clatter of vessels (Yeah, I managed to tumble them as well, I SO hate that Murphy guy), I tried rearranging them hurriedly, when my eyes rested on a very insignificant looking brown-paper covered notebook, that was left behind in the general noise and clutter. I picked the book up uncertainly and started reading it. It was my long -forgotten diary.

As I journeyed through my college days that I had enjoyed with reckless abandon, my books and vessels lay forgotten around me. My first friends, trivial incidents that broke my heart, failure, guilt, victory, anger, ecstasy, sadness...

The day I bunked a class, got yelled at by a teacher for forgetting my assignment, the day my best friend cried and all I could do was look on, the taste of hard failure, meeting with a celebrity for an interview, my first award from college , new buddies, the day I truly realized my worth, and...The day I finally cried.

Ups and down at home, squabbles with cousins, uncle’s birthday bash, family vacation, and many more incidents that ripped, tore, mended my heart. And before even I could realize - I was crying. Tears streaked my face in an inconsolable stream. All the pent up emotions, frustrations and agonies resurfaced. I was ashamed. I was ashamed of crying. Still, I cried with all the strength I could muster. I cried with gratitude, I cried in pain, I cried for others. I cried until I went to bed.

I woke up with a sore throat, still dazed and realized that the diary which was so much a part of me had been forgotten. I hastily flipped to the last entry. It was dated August 14th. Exactly a week before something in me died. Forever.

But all the bawling I did certainly made me feel lighter. Though I hate to admit it –it does feel good to let out emotions once in a while. Maybe there is still hope.

Of monkeys and terror…

As I was madly rushing down the three long floors of my apartment, determined to catch the ever-elusive bus today morning, someone on the second floor warned me against something that awaited me on the next floor. My mind already at the bus stop, contemplating on how I could brave the crowds today, did not hear an inkling of what he said. I made a gesture with my head that vaguely looked like a nod and continued on my trail. As I flew down to the first floor, my legs automatically braked. I stood there, my heart at the throat ready to jump out. I could see a huge monkey sitting on the floor, eying me tentatively. The first reaction I could muster was a heart-piercing shriek.

The monkey just sat there and gave me a bored look. I could almost hear what it was thinking. "Yawn! Think of something else lady. I have heard about a million shrieks in my lifetime".
After my heart stopped thumping and started breathing normally, I looked up to see if that good old soul who had forewarned me was still around to shoo the monkey away. All I could hear was a slam of the door signaling the end of any outside help I could possibly get. It was now only me against the smelly monkey.

I dared to inch forward a bit and the monkey lunged to the railings. My heart by now had reached my mouth. One more move and it would come out. The monkey on the other hand showed no sign of agitation. It was telling me, "Let’s see if you have the guts to cross me baby".

I flapped my arms with a book (The Kite Runner :)) in hand, attempting to frighten it. All I managed to do was look like an oversized butterfly. I had by then assumed that the monkey was male. Well, given the goofing up and weak attempts at showing off, it surely had to be male!!!
Then help came from unexpected quarters. The male monkey’s girlfriend slowly loomed into focus. The minute she appeared, our hero started slinking away. She came and gave him the 'What have I told you about ogling at beautiful girls?" look. (Fine. Don’t gag. She probably gave him the 'Stop frightening her. She already looks like a scared chicken" look)

She prodded him and they both jumped up and vanished from the floor, but not before screeching their lungs out at me. I also joined in the chorus and the whole apartment shook. After the worst was over, I quickly scuttled away to catch my bus, the monkeys went back to monkeying around, but the whole neighborhood was wide awake. "Was that a terror attack?” I heard someone say.

Amrika’s only hope

Okay, so Obama is the 44th president in the US of A. Point taken. What his presidency would mean to India and the usual interpretation, speculation, analysis, in other words pretty boring stuff would be reserved for a later post.

What really caught my attention yesterday was his acceptance speech. Generally all acceptance speeches comprise of vague idealistic promises that are swept promptly under the carpet as soon as the leader assumes office. In India, it is not even right to call them acceptance speeches. They are more aptly called the ‘in-your-face-you-losers’ speeches. Or better still ‘i-won-yay-you-lose-boo’ speeches.

The 15 minute monologue efficiently covered his gratitude, his promises, his hopes and his greatest aspiration of resurrecting the American dream. Though in few places it sounded a wee-bit too optimistic, it can be forgiven as it was Obama’s big day too.

Forget the speech, what struck me the most was the arena thronging with supporters. It was huge with absolutely no decorations and no blown-up cut outs of Obama’s face. There was a long blue ramp that even looked royal. There were no cracker-bursting party workers, no bodyguards and definitely no raucous creating crowd.

This reminded me of the victory speeches of our dear leaders. The loud guttural utterances of hazy promises, read from a paper that the leader himself would have seen for the first time would be amplified by a hundred speakers and determined to blow your ear drums off. Also surrounding the leader would be beefy looking bodyguards with guns and staid expressions to match the grimness of the guns. The leader himself would be clothed in ten different shawls and a huge garland that would look more dignified if it were left at the flower shop itself.

Another notable speech was McCain’s. The very fact that he took defeat (not that he had too much of choice) in a very dignified manner itself was very impressive. Whereas here, it would have meant two days of hunger strikes and threats of how the government would not even stand for a year from the losing party.

All said and done, Obama now shoulders the responsibility of change he promised to make. Only time can tell whether he would join scores of other leaders who only gave hopes and pushed the wretched people into more darkness or if he would actually become the beacon light for the Americans and rebuild the hope the rest of the world had on America, once upon a time.

Whats wrong with us????????

Obama Pooja :)

The power of ….

Sweat beads glistened on his forehead. His eyes, knitted in concentration, were staring at the wall. Though he was staring at a blank wall, a zillion thoughts ran through his mind. He was a busy man, he had a call to attend, an appointment to keep up, a flight to catch…Yet, he was immobilized by what had happened. His world was shattered. And all he could do was wait…wait an endless wait…wait until 10. Yes, he would wait until 10; something had to happen by then.

His eyes slowly moved to the clock on the wall. It was close to 10. The hands on the clock moved in rapid succession, yet time seemed to have come to a virtual stand still.

He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. The cushions had become moist and he was covered in sweat. He looked at the clock once again, this time the hands were nearing 10. The mystic number 10. The number that saved him from all the trials and tribulations. 10, the time he would be freed from the ordeal he faced everyday.

He waited…another ten seconds…five…three…one...and…

In a gust of activity, the fans started rotating, lights flickered on, and the computer started beeping. Yes! He had survived yet another day…His daily dose of power cut was over...

Sakkarakatti -movie review

What starts off on a very bad note ends equally dreadfully in 'Sakkarakatti', one of the lamest movies ever made.

The story line is as hackneyed as ever. Boy meets girl 1. Girl 2 meets boy. Boy and Girl 1 fall in love. Girl 2 pines for boy. Girl 1 fights with boy. Girl 2 is still pining. Girl 1 and boy make up and become friends. Girl 2 never stops pining. Climax Scene: Girl 1 and boy hug. Girl 2 starts positively bawling. This weather beaten, time tested formula never seems to go out of fashion in the Tamil film industry.

The hero wears branded shirts, drives the latest bike, and talks in English with his mom and dad even when he is at home with no girls around to impress. He also has a fake accent that gets on your nerves after a while. Ok...this is a note to everybody who wants to sound cool in a put-on American accent. Never say ‘SHAAAIIYT’ when you just want to say ‘SHIT’. It sounds completely gross and totally un-American… ‘SHIT’ is just ‘SHIT’!!! Incidentally the hero says it to the heroine just before the interval and it pretty much sums up how the rest of the movie is gonna be.

Since when did colleges start allowing bikini clad lasses inside classes? The two heroines can only think of make up, designer dresses and the hero throughout the movie. They also speak Tamil like they have gum stuck on the inside of their mouths. Eye sores!!!

Songs are the only highlight of the movie. The ‘Taxi Taxi’ song deserves special mention. A.R Rehman has definitely delivered his best. Then again, the visualization is terrible. The beauty of the songs is lost in slip shod visual sequences. The amateurish animations, sloppy characters flying up and down and jazzed up graphics spoil the music.

The hero definitely has to learn to look more romantic. He gapes at the heroine. There is this particular scene where he gives the heroine a love-bite. This supposedly steamy scene (!) looks like he is about to gorge down a two-week supply of rations from a godown. You can actually count the number of teeth he has.

One lesson I learnt from the movie was, if you pass snide remarks at a guy trying to be nice to you, he will immediately fall in love with you. Further, if you point at things even remotely cuddly or furry and go ‘cho chweet’, all guys fall in love with you. (Hmm…well that explains why I have been single all this while).

So, please go watch this movie. If not for anything, it would definitely instill a fear within you next time you book tickets for a movie.

Random thoughts that 'rat'tle!!!

I just happened watch Ratatouille once again this afternoon on TV. I certainly did miss a lot of finer moments in the movie the first time I watched it... There is this particular part where the dad rat tells his son rat that rats are always rats (don’t duh!) and how making friendship with a human is almost near impossible.
He shows him bottles that the hotels stock to kill rats and other pests.

He says “Rats are always rats. You cannot change nature"…and our lil chef goes "But change is nature".

I found this thought extremely interesting. We are all scared to try out different choices at some point of our lives. We sadly resign ourselves to the decisions others make for us. We lack the guts the tiny lil rat has!! He boldly chooses to be a cook in spite of what his family tells him. But in the end his family comes to his help simply because he did what he believed in.

Geez!! Am I getting old or what?!!!

True...

Wizard of Oz: As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.
Tin Woodsman: But I still want one.

One of my favorite lines from the book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz...
Well, it is true...All of us rip our hearts open for few things not worth our time or love…
At times we also know that we are going to get hurt finally…
We end up going the extra mile for something not really worth our attention…
Yet we continue...
That’s exactly why the Wizard says...hearts will never be practical...

I agree.... :)

Fourth Estate Fun

I just happened to read an article reported by two leading dailies in Chennai, The Hindu and TOI…The story has been reported very differently in both the papers...Read on…

Headline:

Hindu: Major-General dismissed from service

TOI: Major General to be fired for sexual harassment

A few excerpts:
Hindu: A serving Major General was dismissed from service by an Army Court after he was found guilty of molesting a woman officer under his command, in the first such case in the history of the country’s armed forces

TOI: Though general-rank officers have been court-martialled for financial bungling and other scams in the Army in recent years, this is the first time that such a senior officer has faced a court-martial for sexual harassment.

Hindu: Woman officer Capt. Neha Rawat gave a written complaint that he indulged in sexual misconduct under the pretext of conducting meditation classes at his residence.

TOI: The court held him guilty of molesting the woman officer serving under him on the pretext of teaching her yoga and meditation in his bedroom.

Hindu: The GCM, with the Army’s 10 Corps commander Lt. Gen. R.S. Sujalana

TOI: GCM, commander of the 10 Corps at Bhatinda, headed by Lt-Gen R S Sujlana

Hindu: Two-star general serving as the 3 Infantry Division General Officer

TOI: Commander of the strategically-located 3 Infantry Division

Well, TOI this time has shown some kind of maturity in reporting this issue. In fact the TOI article goes on to show a few statistics about how many woman commanders are there in the Indian army and the like. Whereas the Hindu article has not really delved deep, and has under played the issue to a considerable extent. Hindu also published the name of the victim which is against the PCI rules.The name of the Lt-Gen is spelled differently in both the papers. TOI has spiced up the issue...Hindu has ignored it…

This leaves me wondering…Do papers report news or do they report for news?

I am tired of saying goodbye...

Over the period of three months, I have been constantly saying goodbye to too many people, a few of them whom I may never see again. I don’t regret too much, but it still hurts.

People from whom I could derive constant support and energy have all gone. The strong walls I could lean on are no longer there. It sometimes leaves me shivering in the night, longing for a familiar hug, a midnight chat, a sudden inspiration to say good night to the moon...

The constant goodbyes have left me numb and indifferent. It has changed me. For the better? I do not know...only time can tell.

I have yet another goodbye this week. And probably another one in a few months…The only solace I get is that, all the friends and relatives who have flown away are all happy. Yet, it hurts to say goodbye…It hurts...a lot…

Wacko Jacko!!

Check this slideshow out!!
I am no fan of MJ, but found it interesting...

Ah! Finally..Something funnier than dasavatharam

Name of the party: Praja Rajyam (Ok wait, is that the name of the founder's next movie also??)

Founder: Chiranjeevi (Oops!, Mega Star Chiranjeevi)

Ideology: Fight political corruption “at the top” (On top of what?!)

Agenda:Socialism and empowerment of the poor and downtrodden (If you really wanna empower them; then start by not calling them downtrodden)

Launch: Avilala Tank grounds, Tirupati with thronging followers who arrived in 18 special trains. (At the cost of throwing normal life out of gear)

Flag:White and Green hoisted by a physically challenged youth. (Am I in a telegu movie theater?)

Will support: The telegana (Wow! Now what happened to the socialism promise?)

More Promises:

1. A scientific assessment of categorization of the Scheduled Castes (Of course, another Sachar committee report)

2. Consult intellectuals before arriving at a decision. (Do you really want a comment here?)

Silver lining:Favor of industrialization

Clichés:

“I am your servant and not your leader.” (You can start by getting off the dais)

“My parents looked after me for 22 years, but you have been carrying me for 30 years on your shoulders” (30 years were a punishment enough. Did we have a choice??)

Verdict:Shows all signs of becoming a political joke.

Moral: Will actors ever learn?

Today...

Today...

it hurts to smile…it hurts to see others smile...it hurts to think of a certain someone’s smile…

It pains to cry…it pains to see others cry…it pains to discern that a certain someone will never be there to wipe the tears away..

I am glad but despondent...I am despondent because I am glad...

I miss her...

I want her back...

Mush steps down.

Musharaff resigns…Well, that was expected. There cannot be any more disgrace that can be brought to the President's office if the President himself is threatened with impeachment. Clearly it is also very embarrassing to stay in an office where people have already asked you to pack your bags.

But did anybody even try to make this resignation dignified?

Mushy himself said, "I announce my decision to step down from the office of the President for the sake of the country". Huh???

“This is not the time for individual bravado. This is the time for serious reflection. Whether I win or lose, the nation will lose in every way. It will be a blow to the dignity of the nation and to the office of the President,”

Well Mr. President, you should thought of ‘serious internal instability’ and ‘dignity’ when you decided to unceremoniously kick the Chief Justice out of the office, and ruthlessly amending the Constitution of Pakistan which only resulted in riots and bloodshed all over the country.

How about the others? PPP and PML (N) burst crackers. They also declared his exit as a “triumph for democracy".
The concept of a coalition government itself defeats the purpose of democracy. It shows that the people do not support the leading parties. And the parties without enough support have to join hands with other parties with completely different ideologies to form a government. Sometimes parties which are allies at the Center are opposition at the state. How appalling is that? And to think of such people talking about democracy is repulsive.

Our Indian leaders surprisingly shut up. BJP and Congress alike said that his resignation was an ‘internal matter’ of Pakistan and they wouldn’t want to comment. Now that’s what I call good diplomacy. On second thoughts it could also mean they are too scared of Mushy even when he is powerless.

Way to go! So who is the butt of all these jokes finally? The common man of course! Also dying a slow rotten death at the hands of these hopeless fundamentalists are the brass tacks of an institution called ‘Democracy’.

Evanescence…

Twilight hour...Darkness enveloped her.

As she groped her way to the top, she shuddered in cold. Her hands were numb, yet she assiduously climbed. When she finally reached her destination, she closed her eyes and felt the cold breeze brush against her cheeks. She could smell the faint odour of wet mud. Freshly dug up mud. When she opened her eyes, she could see the vast blanket of the never-ending sky. She pushed open the gates and ambled in hesitantly. The eerie silence urged her to walk faster. Pulling her cloak even more tightly around her she proceeded.

With each passing minute, she could feel her heart throb harder. Her hands kneaded into a tight knot. Her legs became feeble. She could hear herself walking. The rhythmic sound of her feet. One at a time. Slowly. One tap after the other.

But he was already there. Fear gripped her. Her mind was torn between the desire to stand still and the urge to run away.

But he was there just round the corner. Exactly where she had last left him. Looking just like how he had looked last time.

She could not restrain herself any longer. She threw open her cloak and ran to him. She longed for the familiar warmth of his arms. His cheerful demeanor had always lifted her spirits. His determination and principles had awed her. His love and warmth had assured her.

Every time she felt low, he would wrap his arms around her tightly and quietly whisper 'I will be there for you'. She would then look into his eyes and see her pain in him. When they snuggled into each others arms on a cold night, she would rest her head on his chest and fall fast asleep.

Now she could see his silhouette looming closer and closer every minute. She quickened her pace.

He did not hear her coming. He stood tall, patiently awaiting her. She fondly raised her hands to touch him.

He did not turn. She rested her hands on him and leaned against him. He still did not budge. Had he stopped liking her? Where was the tenderness she had always felt when he was around? Why was he so cold? What did she do to deserve this? She silently wept on him. Yet he did not offer any solace or comfort. He did not even concede her presence.

After her tears dried up, she took out a wilted lily from her shirt. It was his favorite flower. She kissed it, put it on his feet and walked away.

The journey back was longer. She gathered her cloak and tried to walk away as soon as possible. When she reached the gates, she turned around in the anticipation that he would call her back.

All she could hear were the graveyard bells, chiming peacefully over its lessees.

Three Mistakes of My Life

What starts as an interesting story, ends rather abruptly in Chetan Bhagat's, 'Three mistakes of my life'.

The story line is quite similar to his previous writings. The blundering protagonist, his love-interest, friendship, sacrifice, blah and some more blah is what makes up his third book too.

One exception is that, the Godhra riots, Gujarat earthquake and the India-Australia series are interspersed with the story quite cleverly, with each of these events paving way for the protagonist to realize the mistakes he commits.

What ever happened to the trademark self-deprecatory humor, Chetan's books were famous for? Humor is almost non-existent in this book, which makes a few parts very yawnable and forgettable. Further the hero is projected as being too perfect in the first half of the book and too flawed in the second. The readers are fed an over-dose of cricket as well.

The book has its good moments too. All the scenes between Vidya and Govind are well-crafted and thoroughly enjoyable. Vidya's reaction to Govind's explanation of probability with greeting cards was exceptionally amusing.

"Let's say i take all your cards and put them in a sack. Then i pull one out. What is the probability the card is colored?"

"Why would you put them in a sack?", she said.

At the same time, a few scenes make me wonder if guys really do think the way Chetan explains or if it is exaggerated!!!For instance, there is one part where Vidya touches Govind's hand and he notices the fairness of her arms, long fingers, blue veins,nail polish, what not and that too in a few seconds. (Read: gag gag)

On the whole, it is definitely not a great book nor is it Chetan's best work. Three mistakes, is an entertainer, but that's about it.

Celebrating Friendship.

Yesterday was Friendship day!!!

I am not a great follower of these days… Nor do I believe in such days, including birthdays... :)...Yes, I don’t celebrate my birthday!

But an incident that happened yesterday and today, made me fully realize and appreciate the actual meaning of the maxim...’A friend in need is a friend indeed'
:)

Pop Goes the Weasel!!!

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle.
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.

Up and down the city road,
In and out the Eagle,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.

For you may try to sew and sew,
But you'll never make anything regal,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.

The monkey and the weasel fought,
The weasel's really feeble,
The monkey punched him in the face,
Pop! goes the weasel.

A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle—
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.

I had always found this little rhyme very intriguing. I knew it was not just another nonsensical verse meant for kids. I was pretty sure it had some surrogate implication. Well, I was right! Check the link below for the actual meaning of this seemingly innocent rhyme.

Here goes…

Happy birthday….

Raise a toast to the 'Boy Who Lived'
Happy birthday Harry Potter!!!!
Today is the birthday of one of world's most loved fictional character, Harry Potter. This ingenious creation of J.K. Rowling managed to mesmerize children and adults alike and still continues to enthrall them.

This Pottermania struck me too. To be honest, there were days when I was angry with the newly found craze for the book. I was a faithful reader of HP long before it became a sensation, and here were people claiming to be hardcore fans, but in reality were the ones who started reading only after it came on TV.

I still very vividly recall how I used to read HP books during my 10th board exams when all the others around me fretted and fumed with math formulae. What was math compared to magic? I used to ask myself.

When the last book of HP came out, I was torn between extreme ecstasy and intense misery. I was happy that the mystery would finally be solved but at the same time the very thought of growing up and being no longer the little kid who could read HP, was agonizing.

Though the last book was a damp squib, I couldn’t help but love it. I thoroughly enjoyed the whole book and when I turned the last page to close it, my eyes became moist. But even now, when I am low, I immediately reach out to my shelf to pull out my favorite HP book and re-read a few pages. It takes me to the nonchalant childhood days when you had nothing to worry about. Sigh!! Nostalgia – The prefect medicine to a worn-out soul.

Aum...

I have always pondered over this quintessential question that has troubled mighty brains over the ages: The Life-death cycle.

I have debated different permutations and combinations of life-death explanations with several people. This was what I did once again during the weekend with my Uncle. The essence of what we discussed is written below. Many of the things were quite new and surprising to me.

A human mind has a lot of desires. All actions, aspirations, dreams and thoughts are based on desires. These desires include desires of the mind as well as the heart. The ability to think and reason out is also born out of the passion of achieving your wishes. Until you satisfy them, the mind will not cease.

Further, fulfilled or achieved desires or dreams lead to other desires and dreams. For an example, a man on a bicycle wants a car. A man on a car wants the latest feature upgrades on his vehicle. With one leading to another, the human mind travels expanses searching for means to accomplish the wishes. Sometimes the mind is not able to fulfill them because of several reasons like old age, dubiousness of the desire, impracticality and so on. In this case the human soul, (This by the way is not your mind or intellect. Intellect itself is a non-entity) tries to find another body in which these desires are likely to be achieved.

Let us forget the soul jumping part, I found it a little too fantastic and Uncle also did not have enough reasons to back it up. The point is, once you start controlling your desires then the mind and soul slowly realize that they are one. This also leads you to the revelation that you are truly your Creator. In other words you realize the outside world is only Maya or an illusion created by you and you alone can control your destiny. You would also realize there is life beyond just desires and aspirations. You will be able to enjoy true happiness.

Though I might not fully agree to a few things, it is one of most reasonable explanation I have found for life and death.

A for apple, I for iPod…:)

Yipeeeeeee!!! I am also a proud owner of an Apple iPod Shuffle. Thanks to Unni and Divya!! Those generous souls gave it to me as a birthday gift.

Apple iPod is the arguably one of the best thing I have ever seen. In fact I like their instruction manual better than the gadget itself. Technical ignoramuses like me find it very easy to understand and follow the directions given in the manual. The very fact that the manual is only six pages long and does not have more than two sentences in each page, but still effectively manages to explain the know-how of the gadget is simply awe-inspiring.

To top it all, the iPod actually smells of raw apple. Laugh as you might, but I can smell an apple flavor. It could be the scratch perfumes that are generally used or it could be just another figment of my imagination. So, all the iPod Shuffle users out there let me know if your Shuffle has a magical smell too.

My darkest secret ever...

I was thinking of what to write next when I realized that my creativity just decided to take a vacation the minute I started a blog. (Proof: Read last two entries)
Highly annoyed with myself, I tried to snoop around my friends’ blogs for ideas. You might call it plagiarism but I call it collective collaboration of thoughts. Here are a few ideas that I thought i could write about:

1. What i like and don’t like about xyz place?

Wow! That sounded like the ideal topic to start. But i ended up with one very forgettable page of 'What i like’, which even i couldn’t read without stifling a yawn. And also being a lousy Chennai fanatic, i couldn’t bring myself to write the ‘don’t like’ part without feeling ungrateful.

2. Post cartoon strips and give smart comments.

To start with, smart comments are really not my thing. I also couldn’t think of anything better than 'ROFL', 'check this out' 'this is hilarious’ and so on. Further all the cartoons i found were either too cheesy for my taste or too corny for anybody's taste.

3. Write a poem.

I couldn’t help but lol’ing at the very ‘idea’, let alone write. My poetic skills stop with making rhymes that are a way too juvenile for a blog post.

4. Delete the blog.

This sounded like the best idea so far. Then again, all my principles about 'never quitting once i start', started going round my head, making me go on a roller coaster guilt trip.

With all the ideas trashed mercilessly, i was wondering what to do next when i swiftly realized i could actually fill up this space with the trashed ideas! After all it was my blog, my trash, and people read it at their own risk.

So thus ends my next blog entry after three hundred words of sheer nonsense, hackneyed humor, two cups of tea and of course plenty of wasted energy.

Moral of the story: Never get carried away by the 'attention seeking' headline gimmick. You will surely end up reading crap like this! (This entry might have irritated you and probably made you swear that you would never come back to this blog again. Any harm caused by curling fists or tearing hair-roots out was purely intentional).

Debacles, disasters and discoveries too!!

This post is dedicated to my blog title:

It is the most important day in my life. It just has to be perfect’, was my first thought when I woke up on my first day as an entity of the employed class. I could picture myself going for a meeting, heels clicking all the way, attending a call, typing away furiously on a computer … when my alarm which had lost all its patience started to howl in full throttle once again. After earning disapproving glares from all my roommates I finally struggled out of my bed to get ready.

I had been extra cautious (to the extent of being paranoid) and had ironed my clothes, readied my certificates and even kept my dingy cupboard locked for fear of burglary! But I preferred to keep a reproachful silence when one of my roommates pointed out that there wasn’t much; the bandit in question would just have to do with a couple of ironed dupattas and documents.

Disaster struck only after a hurried bath, when my ironed kurta decided to glide down gracefully into a tub full of water. I could see my lucky charm sag and become worthless in front of my eyes even before I could dive in to save it. With one point down and a manic enthusiasm to make the day perfect I moved on to make breakfast. Like the most famous Murphy’s Law, ‘Anything that can go wrong will definitely go wrong’, my breakfast too was catastrophic. After a meal of burnt rice, sugarless malt, and a bruised ego I ran to the bus stop only to realize I was still in my bathroom slippers. Where were the Karma points I accumulated over the summer?

Finally when I hopped on to a bus, after a sprint to and from the bus stop and hostel, a sense of exhilaration overcame me and I heaved a sigh of relief. That too was short lived, all thanks to Dhivya, my friend, also a new joinee who decided to arrange her certificates in a neat order. I realized I had left all my documents locked up in my precious little cupboard. A ‘all horses let loose’ chase involving a super fast auto driver, an adrenalin rush and a very grouchy Dhivya followed.

We reached on dot at the office only to find out the lift was out of order. We began our long trek to the seventh floor with my Karma points hitting an all time low. Of course I managed to slip and fall on my face on the way up, hampering our flight for a few minutes. When I finally reached the office doors I couldn’t but help smiling wide. I had made it! I had come to a place I had been longing for and could truly call mine.

It seemed completely surreal. Plush interiors, swipe card, phone, separate cabin, and all I could do was just sit - dumbstruck. I kept comparing each passing luxury to the complete debacle my morning was. How many days had I waited, just to enter the office? The mere thought of being able to achieve a part of my dream was calming and I realized that all good things come to you, only if you truly deserve it. It also taught me that I had miles to go before I could completely become worthy of what was being given to me. I had the resources and I had to prove my worth.

Here were people ready to help you and all you had to do, was let them. It really did not matter how many times you slipped as long as you learned to dust the mud off and never lose the zeal to prove yourself. With that in mind I blissfully forgot the day’s fiasco and decided to make a sincere effort to truly become a deserving employee.

Hail blogspot!!!!

Hi,
Anything to do with pressing more than a few buttons, has addled my brains from the time of my whiny infancy. Somehow technology and me have been at each others' neck. I can't understand technology and technology can't stand me. Yes, i am the lousy conservative who still prefers filling lengthy forms, licking photos and sticking them on paper instead of going the easy e-way. I almost had a stroke once, when i tried booking train tickets online. There were too many click here, click there, commands and i almost flipped when the screen went blank for a few minutes, only to return with my ready to print e- ticket. But, my heart had already jumped out by then.

In short, i can't stand computers. But, when i realized my job had plenty to do with ONLY computers, i decided to befriend technology a lil bit. Well, starting a blog can't get me anywhere, but at least it is a beginning. I could follow the 'three easy steps to start a blog' almost perfectly!! So hail blogspot for making life more easier. Looking forward to blogging!!
Cheers,
Varsha