UK is constructing a huge parking complex at the corner of Press Avenue and Virginia Avenue. Entry into Press Avenue off Virginia is blocked. That costs me another 8 minutes in terms of diversion because South Limestone is so crowded and to even take a right turn, I have to wait at least 3-4 minutes (yeah, I timed it!). But that's not the point. The other way to enter Press is via Leader avenue. There's a T-junction with a stop sign where leader hits Press Avenue. You can either go right or left. This is probably one of the worst turns ever. You've got cars parked on Press Avenue by the curb that block your vision. It is virtually impossible for you to see if there's any car coming from the left. If its night, you can tell by the headlights. If its day and you've got music turned on in your car, you really are not going to have a clue where you're going! That's not the end of it. Leader avenue has also got parking on the street. Parking stops a few feet away from the stop sign. Common sense. But the past 2-3 weeks, some idiot has been parking right upto and at the stop sign making it a cramped, one-lane road with blind corners on either side. I noticed a week back, a cop was meticulously making out a ticket to a car parked there. And then for a couple of days, the illegal parking stopped. Now, someone's started it again. I truly wish that, whoever this person is, he/she get slapped a fine that they won't forget for the rest of their life! It is causing danger to the lives of motorists.

There have already been two accidents at that exact corner. Now, this parking situation just worsened it and I shudder at the thought of what's going to happen when the parking structure opens up to the public.Hopefully, someone is going to do something about that turning. Either prohibit parking on the street (which I don't think is possible given the parking problem at the U of Ky) or make sure that there's a three way stop or something!

The Fat Lady Sings...

So what's with the fat lady and her singing? Why is it such a stylish phrase used by password mongers and wannabe secret societies? What does it mean? Read here.

Listening...

"Listening is an art. When people are speaking it requires that they have our undivided attention. We focus on them; we listen very carefully. We listen to the spoken words and the unspoken messages." - Frances Hesselbein, The Art of Listening

Just when I was thinking that nothing could inspire me to write anymore, I ran across this article- The Art of Listening- on the web. I was googling for Peter F. Drucker (been reading "Managing Oneself" by Drucker).

Listening is an art alright. We, humans, wear many masks. We mean one thing but we say something else in the hope that the other person understands (If you're a guy and you have a woman in your life, you'll know what I mean!:)). The kicker is in the tone and body language; Not the actual words. This is the reason it is hard to make computers fathom human conversation. There's just too many overtones, too many fine distinctions and too many idiosyncrasies.

Listening, if done right, is one of the most exhausting things one can ever do. Listening to a long technical/business discussion at a workplace can be strenuous. But then, mostly we can draw a line and say, "Hey, I am not going to let this affect me beyond this point!". You have the option of distancing yourself. "Human interest stories", on the other hand, don't let you do this. You start putting yourself in the other person's shoes, you imagine what'd have happened if you were in such a mess, what you'd feel,do etc...and at some point, you start feeling the other person's happiness/agony/anger/sadness/enthusiasm! Your emotions take over rapidly because you're actually listening. This is especially true with friends and loved ones.

I don't know if I am a good listener or not. But many-a-time, I've been influenced by the mood of the people I've been talking to. With the web, feeds, phone, tv, radio etc..., one is just flooded with information. I think that the trick is to listen to the right people at the right time for the right things.

I haven't been posting frequently. I have figured out that there's a direct relation between my reading and writing. The more diverse the topics I read about, the more ideas I have to write about. Of late, it has been a dry run. I haven't picked up a book and devoted time to it in the past two months. The last book I read was "Udaiyar" by Balakumaran when I was in India. I really do yearn for the feeling where I can just lose myself in the yarn spun by the lines of a good book! Ahhh! But then, there's also this little something called concentration that has to oblige..:)
I have put aside Jane Austen's "Emma" for my next read. After reading too many contemporary, practical essays/books, I yearn for a bit of old-world-charm and romance! Perhaps, the direct result of watching "Pride and Prejudice" last weekend...:)
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I was standing in queue at a bank when this quote flashed on a display screen:
"A man in love is incomplete until he marries. Then he's finished"- Zsa Zsa Gabor
Brought a smile on my face..:)
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As if there wasn't enough controversy over abortion, now we have this. I confess I'd never even imagined such a point of view! So this article made me raise my brows. Male readers, what's you take on this? Just curious.

You can tell me anything", a gentle voice prompts me.
"But I am so lost! I HATE EVERYTHING.How can I tell you anything clearly? " I replied impetuously, tears streaming down my face.
My friend took my hands in his, smiled and said,
"It doesn't have to be clear. I am your conscience...I KNOW."

All that was more than 9 years back in the hallways of Burnaby North Higher Secondary School, Vancouver when I was a 15-year old suddenly shocked into a world I didn't belong in. Well, this morning, I sorely missed that "conscience"..:) When you need something the most, it ain't there..:) And you're left wondering......

---------------------------------

Let's say I decide to give up chocolates. Due to some weird destiny, let's say that the next week I run into a cache of irresistible Belgian chocolates. Did fate send the chocolates my way because I decided to give it up? :) Is it some kind of weird temptation test? Of course, this applies to not just chocolates but almost anything. When you've made up your mind that you don't want something, it just stares you right in the face...:) And you're left wondering....

Akshaya

A week or so back, I wrote about Akshaya. Vijay had originally sent us all a link to the article and I was moved enough to write about it.

Dinesh came up with an idea to help Akshaya. All of us pitched in and Laka (and that's short for Lakshminarasimhan) became our point man..:)After innumerable e-mails exchanged on this subject and contacting Mr.Krishnan, we finally pulled through with what we could to help Akshaya.

This blog is not intended to self-glorify, publicize or preen. Our contribution is perhaps miniscule compared to so many other noble acts and there are probably thousands of others who are doing good things we can't even imagine. But I am really, really proud of our little Tamil community and friends gang here in Lexington! Proud of the fact that we have some very creative, dynamic minds amongst us; proud of the fact that they also care; that there are people willing to step up to take the responsibility; that we, as a group, didn't have any disagreements/dissensions in joining hands for a noble cause. I am proud to be a part of this community!

I hope that more communities like ours all over the world (even if just 3 or 4 people) step up to help organizations like 'Akshaya'. They need it!

Forgivance..

I was driving back from lunch via the UK (Univ of Kentucky) campus. At the corner of S.Limestone and Virginia, a young man was holding up a "Jesus forgives your past. Just ask." placard. I used to see such signs often when I was in Louisiana.

What does God forgive? Anything in the past? What if all those 'anythings' were stuff we did knowingly/deliberately? Would just repentance suffice? I mean, if we had a God who forgave us everything and absolved us of all consequences of our actions, we would all grow indifferent. I don't think humans function without incentives..:) God may forgive us but I think it is too much to ask for release from our actions! So, if I were a grad student (which I am) and I didn't do my paper despite repeated warnings from my professor that I may get an 'E' if I don't hand it in today, God would definitely forgive me but I would still get an 'E'. Fair enough? I think so..:)

Everyday gyaan

I don't mean to sound like a finishing school Miss but at some point or the other, every hostess has an overriding anxiety: how to keep your guests entertained. It may not even be a formal party but any successful host/hostess should know to keep the conversation flowing. At least, I feel that way..:)
Our driver, Sanjay, came up to our apartment in Mumbai to drop off a few grocery and vegetable bags. Mom was making some delicious food judging by the aroma that wafted from the kitchen. I asked him to stay back and eat. He settled himself in the sofa. My brother was sitting nearby, engrossed in some puzzle, oblivious to his surroundings. Looking at the two of them, one would've thought they had sworn not to talk to each other. Then, one of my dad's friends walked in and started reading some magazine. They seemed perfectly okay with the silence. I tried to talk but got monosyllables from each of them in reply.

Drat, I thought.

Then, out of a need to do something with my hands, I switched on the TV. India was playing Pakistan (Replay of the day's game) and immediately, three heads shot up in unison above papers and magazines like prairie dogs alerted to a scent..:) Now, I don't mean any disrespect when I say that except that's what really crossed my head at that time!

"You think Harbhajan bowled well today?"
"He did as well as he could."
"M.S. Dhoni is in crackling form!"
"I hope they beat the hell out of Afridi tomorrow!"
"The curators have designed awful pitches, yaar..if only they had something in it for the bowlers!"
"Nah..batsmen's pitches are anyday more interesting."
And more cricket talk followed. Meanwhile, I was thinking that M.S Dhoni's hair color looked rather nice..:)
I sighed in relief. At least, they are engaged, I thought. So how do you entertain an old man, a teenager and a young man, all with differing personalities?! Just put a TV in the middle, tune onto some game and leave them alone..:))

P.S: I used to follow cricket myself and I do notice more than players' hairstyles and coloring..:) I enjoy it every bit but then, I don't think I can ever hope to match a guy's appetite for it!

Yadda Yadda Yadda

I could only connect through phone with a lot of my old college buddies when I was vacationing in India. Some of them are so busy with their worklife that they can hardly breathe. A couple of my friends are getting hitched. I was completely vetti (jobless). A couple of phone conversations left me wondering. For the entire length I talked, I could muster only pitiful "uh-huh"s or "hmm"s as responses. To make things worse, my mind started wandering on miscellania. I had to jolt myself back into conscious conversation time and again.
"yadda yadda yadda...work..you know what I mean?"
A hopeful pause at the other end.
Gosh, I don't really know, I thought to myself. But audibly,
"uh-huh.yeah."
What was wrong with me? These were not "hi-bye" relationships. These were friends with whom I've spent four years of college life. Hours have slipped by unnoticed talking to them, laughing with them, teasing them. Where had that old camaraderie gone? Why did I feel this way with a few whilst with others I still connected as of old? How had 3 years altered some of us?
I knew that the rational answer was differing personal growth levels. Different experiences, hardships, successes all lead to different personas. Perhaps, the few with whom I could still relate to had grown alongside me, albeit in a different way. I still don't know the right answer to this.
And I didn't want a rational or right answer. It was disconcerting to find out that even the best of relationships might eventually go the same way. The frightened child in me wanted a reassuring answer. So, I tried calling again and again to wash away the guilt of the previous conversation. It was only made worse.
I was sitting there biting my lips wondering how this could have happened when my brother came in whistling. He gave me a casual look and said,

"You should change the look on your face. You look like you just stepped in a puddle of cowdung."

I frowned at him for being so flippant. For not understanding me.

"If you think I am going to understand all those pointed looks and long faces, forget it, babe! Tell me what's on your mind and *maybe*, I will try to understand your muddled thoughts." He retorted.

I poured out all my long-drawn, confused, thought processes; how I was feeling confused, alone, upset yadda yadda yadda. He sat through the entire tirade with a look of awe.

Finally, he shook his head as if to clear it and cleared his throat,

"You thought all this from a couple of phone calls?!?!!!! You know, I have fried noodles at the BITS night canteen everyday."

"What? That's all you can think of to say to me? Food?" I screamed.

"Yeah. I think your thoughts are like noodles. All tangled up, confused, slippery and hard to grasp." He shot back.

"Speaking of which, I am hungry. Chat at Chowpati beach sound good? Think constructive thoughts like this. Life will at least be tasty."

I couldn't help smiling. Thank god for brothers.. and men.:)

A Few Good Men

Vijay had forwarded this link via e-mail from The Hindu. Every day I read thousands of news items about murders, deaths, diseases and the innumerable travails of living. In the process of living, we learn how to die every single day..:( This link is a reminder to me that good people, intentions and actions are still alive and kicking in this world. It is also a reminder that there is something called selfless love.
This article shook me up this morning and unconsciously, I lifted my eyes in thanks towards the heavens..

Kurai Ondrum Illai Kannaa...
(I have no regrets, O Lord!)

Paris!

I've been meaning to write about Paris for a while now. But haven't summoned up the inspiration for that yet..:) So here's a few pics in lieu of that!

Scribbles of a jet-lagged mind

I

t makes for interesting conversations over breakfast when your ears are plugged up with a bad cold. "Could you pass the milk please?" sounded like "Coldshoe shazzame please?". "Austin" sounded like "Boston".

"So, it must be really cold there right now? Man, I can't imagine living there..grr.."

I get a weird look.

"Err..not really. It is warm enough in Austin to be in shorts and flip-flops!"

People are grumpier until after breakfast and your repeating "Pardon me" 100 times only serves to irritate them more! :(

T

imes Square, NY is a sight for sore eyes on a cold, blistery winter night. The bright neon lights and cheery atmosphere diverted me from mulling over what a cold night it was. A hot masala dosa from 'Saravana Bhavan' on Lexington and 42nd didn't hurt either..:) I let my eyes wander over the soaring skyscrapers brightly silhouetted against the night sky. A hazy fog obscured the top of most buildings. What with the ambience, I felt like I was in Gotham and was half-expecting a Bat Signal to pop up in the sky! :)

I

t is rather embarassing when you forget to remove the maker's tag from your coats/jackets. Those people just make it harder by having it stitched in. Why not just have something that you can rip off easily? Well, I knew I was supposed to take it off but never got around to it. An airline stewardess in the flight I was in had a patronizing grin each time she passed me. I couldn't think of any reason and I just put it down to one of those human eccentricities. Then, when the flight was about to land, she leaned in and whispered,

"Ma'am, you're supposed to remove this tag."

Considering that I’d walked around all over the place with that stupid tag on, all I could do was nod sheepishly. Talk about embarassing!

[Finally, I did cut the darn thing off when I got home. I guess I need to thank her for that.]

Back to the Bluegrass

The queasy feeling at the pit of my stomach whenever I reach an airport started showing itself again when I arrived at Sahar International Airport, Mumbai. I have learnt to live with it now. I suppose it is the fact that I'd have nothing to identify myself with for the next 24 hours except my passport. No address; no family; no friends; just a few printed sheets of passport. I know that perhaps this is making too much of a big deal about nothing..:) So I am going to stop. After traveling for 2 hours by car (another of Mumbai's travails), we arrived at the airport a bit off schedule. I am not one for saying goodbyes. A brief nod at my parents, a kiss on their cheeks and I was gone. I didn't look back.

Well, after a long and tiresome journey, I was relieved after I cleared customs at Atlanta. The sight of 'Starbucks' warmed my heart..:) After Paris Charles de Gaulle, I have realized how well equipped American airports are. Rather thankful for it. I peeped out the window at Lexington before landing. I was happy to get back to this sleepy little town that has been my hometown for nearly 2 years now. Frankly, I have become rather wary and sick of big, huge cities. Boarding and arriving at these monster cities leaves me exhausted. Mumbai is one monster of a city. Though I did enjoy some aspects of Mumbai, I figured I'd rather not spend my life there. Endless traffic lines, crowds and queues for everything from groceries to airport check-in lines have left me rather jaded. Atlanta was no relief either. I had to wait for a long while before my baggage even showed up and the jostling crowds didn't ease anything. I don't mean to complain. I guess these are the normal appendages of being in big metros.

The flight arrived in Lexington. People didn't jostle to get out of the flight. Everyone was leisurely sitting in their seats waiting for the line ahead to clear up. I did the same. I liked the relaxed atmosphere..:) The sight of k and rs bought a smile to my face. I picked up baggage with little problems and in a few minutes, I was home.

After the crowds of Mumbai, I confess Lexington looks like a ghost town to me! My apartment feels even more weird. I have become used to the colour, liveliness and throb of India after nearly 2 months there. I miss the noise. Sigh. It will be sometime before I get used to this again.

Don't Think. Blink.

Michael Gladwell's "blink" bore me company on Dadar Express from Chennai to Mumbai. For anyone who doesn't know the agony of a 24 hour journey by train, the Chennai-Mumbai leg would be a good starter. After the initial curiosity of gazing at bucolic landscapes and gulping one absolutely horrendous railway Idli-Vada-Chutney (reminded me of 'Anniyan' and 'Kumbee Bagam'), I settled down to read this book.

There have been times when I've taken ridiculous likes/dislikes to people and things. An instinctive feeling of warmth and trust creeps in when I meet some. There are moments when a little voice murmurs, 'No. This thing is BAD for you.' When people belligerently ask, 'So, why in the world don't you like her? You just saw her!', I've never been able to explain WHY. This book explains how we 'thin-slice' all the time and form opinions. The 'Adaptive Unconscious', as Gladwell calls it, guides you surely and firmly in the right direction before your conscious mind even realizes anything. Perhaps this is the 'gut instinct' that people rely on so much.

One thing I found interesting is the fact that people who instinctively make a decision and people who are given time to make a decision eventually make the SAME decision. Perhaps, taking "time" to make a decision is irrelevant? Do we agonizingly confuse issues by poring over too much fringe data? Maybe. Personally, I agree with the author as far as decision making goes. There is only certain core data we need to make a decision and usually, it is available at hand. The other fringe information is for confirmation and safety. And this information, at times, does serve to confuse the conscious mind instead of clarifying it. So we begin to second-guess. Doubt creeps in and the conviction needed to execute actions goes missing.

I believe in instinct. It has saved my bacon a lot of times...:) People sometimes criticize the so-called "feminine instinct". I don't think there's any sort of gender in instinct. I think women are more prone to recognize their emotions and feelings. Perhaps, in the process they end up being more sensitive to that little inner voice.

Definitely worth a read for the examples and real-world incidents that the author details. The good news is that we are born with this instinct and we can hone it. Don't think, Gladwell says, Blink.

Indian Artwork!

Above: Zari work on a silk saree

Each time I set foot into a bazaar in India, it fairly whisks my breath away (even now). Clothes dyed artfully with striking colors, tastefully hand-embroidered handbags, mirror work wall hangings, bedspreads, jewel-encrusted paintings, bronze artfully sculpted into myriad gods and godesses all continue to dazzle the visitor. It is not the presence of these works of art that is impressive; it is the fact that these are so omnipresent and abundant. Even the vendor hawking wares on the sidewalk has goods that have a certain degree of artistry and workmanship!

I recently purchased a painting made on silk that has been so finely woven that it feels like paper. The painting is no Van Gogh or Rembrandt...:) But it is attractive enough to be hung in a living room. From huge silk houses that weave intricate designs on sarees to the simple hawker who sells beautiful accessories by the roadside, here's my salute to Indian artistry and workmanship! :)

How would you phrase it?

Kerala has the evocative tagline of "God's Own Country". Malaysia is "Truly Asia". England has "Cool Brittania". Mumbai is searching for one such logo..:) Image is everything. A tagline describes the city/country in one line. It should have spice and punch.
Why, of all things, does Chennai have to have the unimaginative logo of "Singara Chennai"? Apart from the feeble attempt at alliteration, no one who looks at Chennai would say it is "singaram". I did rack my brains to think of something. I couldn't come up with anything decent but I am sure there are thousands who can do it....:)

Row 1 (Left to Right): Sunset over the Arabian Sea, "The Queen's Necklace" in Mumbai's Marine Drive, Golden sunset over the Arabian Sea

Row 2 (Left to Right): Srirangam railway station captured on my whim, Teppakulam (Temple tank) in Trichy, Tiruvanaikkoil market with the Temple tower in the background

Row 3 (Left to Right): Banana vendor in Tiruvanaikkoil bazaar, River Kaveri in Trichy, Temple tower of Ranganatha temple in Srirangam, Trichy

Row 4(Left to Right): Srirangam temple tower decorated at night for Vaikunta Ekadasi festival, Mumbai's Gateway of India commemorating the arrival of George V and Queen Mary, Statue of Chatrapati Shivaji

பொங்கல் தின சிறப்பு நிகழ்ச்சிகள்- சில குறிப்புகள்!

சூர்யா!
பொங்கல் தினத்தன்று 'அண்ணனுக்கு ஜே' என்ற தலைப்பில் நடிகர் சூர்யாவுடன் ஒரு நாள் சுற்றினார்கள் விஜய் டிவி யில். மேக்கப் எதுவும் இல்லாமல், சாதாரண நடுத்தர தரப்பினரை சேர்ந்த ஒரு பிள்ளையாக, வலம் வந்தார். சொந்த ஊரில் தனது உறவினர்களை அறிமுகப்படுத்தினார். குளத்து தண்ணீரில் குதித்து நீந்தினார். கல்லூரி மாணவர்களை சந்தித்து பேசினார்.
இவ்வளவு படங்கள் நடித்தும், சூர்யாவிடம் ஒரு அழகான கூச்சம் இருக்கிறது. மனிதர் காமிராவை பார்த்து மிக பாந்தமாக பேசுகிறார். பொதுவாகவே, நடிகர்களுக்கு காமிரா முன் நின்று, நின்று ஒரு consciousness வந்துவிடும் என்றுதான் நினைக்கிறேன். 'நான் நடிகன். காமிரா முன் நிற்கிறேன்' என்கிற ஒரு நினைப்பு இருந்து கொண்டே தான் இருக்கும். ஆனால் சூர்யாவிடம் அது இல்லை! அழகாக, தன்மையாக பேசினார். டான்ஸ் ஆட சொன்னால் மிகவும் வெட்கப்பட்டு, இரண்டு ஸ்டெப் போட்டுவிட்டு ஓடிவிட்டார். தான் மிகவும் கூச்சசுபாவியென்றும், தானே இவ்வளவு வெற்றி பெற்றால், நிச்சயம் சாதாரண மனிதர்கள் எல்லோரும் வெற்றி பெறலாம் என்று சொன்னார். நிகழ்ச்சி choreographed என்றாலும், சூர்யா பேசியது எதுவும் பொய்யாக தோன்றவில்லை. மிகவும் பிடித்திருந்தது.

சூர்யா- மென்மை.

மீரா ஜாஸ்மின்!

வணக்கம் தமிழகத்தில் மீரா ஜாஸ்மின் பேட்டி அளித்தார். எனக்கு இவரிடமும் பிடித்தது - அழகாக தமிழில் பேசுகிறார். வார்த்தைகள் தெரியாதபோது, டி.ஸ். ரங்கநாதனை கேட்டு தெரிந்து கொண்டு, உபயோகபடுத்துகிறார். 'இமேஜ் கெட்டுவிடுமோ?' என்று பயந்து கொள்ளாமல், தப்போ தவறோ தமிழிலேயே பேசினார். அவரது credit-கு, வெகுவாக சரியாகவே பேசினார். தமிழ் நடிகைகளே, தமிழை மிக கொச்சையாக பேசும் காலத்தில், ஒரு மலையாள நடிகை தமிழை தெரிந்து கொண்டு பேசுவது மிக பாராட்டப்பட வேண்டிய விஷயம். மிக சரியாக யோசித்து பதில்கள் அளித்தார். பாடவும் செய்தார்! :))

டி.ஸ் ரங்கநாதன் பேச்சை சுவாரஸ்யமாக எடுத்து போக மாட்டேன் என்கிறார். மீரா அடுத்து மேலே என்ன சொல்லுவது என்று தெரியாமல் திணர, இவர் பாட்டுக்கு வேடிக்கை பார்த்து கொண்டு இருக்கிறார்! கூட இருக்கும், இன்னொரு பெண்மணிதான் cue குடுத்து மேலே நடத்தி செல்கிறார். இம்மாதிரி பேட்டியெடுக்கும் வகையில் இருக்கும் நிகழ்ச்சியை தொகுத்து வழங்கும் மனிதருக்கு சற்று presence of mind வேண்டாமோ??

மீரா ஜாஸ்மின் - ஜில்லுனு ஒரு தென்றல்! :)

பட்டிமன்றம்

சாலமன் பாப்பைய்யா தலைமையிலும், லியோனி தலைமையிலும் பட்டிமன்றம் நடந்தது. நன்றாக சிரிக்க, சிரிக்க பேசினார்கள்.
அது என்ன, ஒரு பண்டிகை வந்தால் தான் பட்டிமன்றம் வைப்பார்களா? வேறு எந்த சமயத்திலும், இதெல்லாம் பேச மாட்டார்களா?

பட்டிமன்றம்- அலுப்பு!

பெப்சி உமா

பெப்சி உமா இன்றும் 'உங்கள் சாய்ஸ்' நடத்துகிறார். பொங்கலுக்காக 'திரை கண்ணோட்டம்' நடத்தினார். இன்றும், இவரது பேச்சு எனக்கு அலுக்கவில்லை. மனிதர்களை எரிச்சலூட்டுவதர்கென்றே பேசும் சில தொகுப்பாளினிகளுக்கு (உதாரணம் சன் மியூசிக் ஹேமா சிங்) இடையில், இவர் ஒரு இனிமையான மாறுதல். நல்ல குரல். அழகான உச்சரிப்பு. இயல்பான பேசும் முறை. எவனோ தெரியாத ஒருவனிடம் போய், 'உன்னுடைய மனைவியின் மிக அழகான அம்சம் எது?' என்றெல்லாம் அச்சு பிச்சென்று கேள்வி கேட்காமல் (அய்யோ, நான் பொய் சொல்லலைங்க! நெசமாவே இப்படி ஒருத்தங்க கேட்க, தொலைபேசியின் மறுமுனையில் அவர் நெளிய...என்ன கருமமடா!), contextual-ஆக பேசுகிறார். எல்லோரையும் comfortable-ஆக பீல் பண்ண வைக்கிறார். அந்த நிகழ்ச்சியை உமாவுக்காகவே உட்கார்ந்து பார்த்தேன்.

உமா - கம்பீரம்!

ரம்யா கிருஷ்ணன்

சிறப்பு 'தக தக தக தக தங்க வேட்டை' நடத்துகிறார் ரம்யா. அவரது தமிழ் உச்சரிப்பே மிக வினோதமாக இருக்கிறது. அவருக்கு, நல்ல husky குரல். அதை கத்தி, கூச்சலிட்டு பாழ்படுத்தி கொள்கிறார்! கேள்விகளோ அதற்கு மேல் அபத்தம்.

"எருமைப் பாலின் நிறம் என்ன?"

இதற்கு வேறு helpline ஒருவர் கேட்க, என்னால் தாங்கமுடியவில்லை...:(

ரம்யா - All glitter, no gold.

அஜீத்

'பரமசிவம்' படத்துக்காக மிகவும் இளைத்த, பழைய 'ஆசை' அஜீத். உடலில் நல்ல மெருகு. படம் எப்படி இருக்கிறது என்று தெரியாது.

அஜீத்- புனர்ஜன்மம்.

விஜய்யின் 'ஆதி'

விஜய் கூடிய சீக்கிரத்தில் முடி திருத்தம் செய்யவில்லையென்றால், புறா கூடு கட்டுவது சர்வ நிச்சயம். காய்ந்து, வரண்டு போன வைக்கோல் நிறம் வேறு பூசியிருக்கிறார்...:) நான் விஜய் ரசிகைதான். அதற்காக இப்படியா?? :))

Quite Contrarily...

"Mary, Mary quite contrarily
How does your garden grow?"

I was reading "The bad Times of India" a couple of weeks back when this poem popped into my head. Two news times were arranged side by side in the newspaper.
The first one was that some ruffians had gotten into a train (I forget which one), forced a 22-year old married woman into the toilet and gang raped her.

The second news item was that the Mumbai Police squad had taken moral policing to heart. They swooped down upon some married couples in a public park. Their crime was that they were sitting very close to each other and holding hands while walking. The lady police, being the great Kannagis and Savitris of our era, beat the women with lathis and used obscene language to abuse them! The couples protesting that they were married and they had done nothing "indecent" was of no avail.

Perhaps the editor didn't have the irony in mind when they put these two news items side by side.

Happy Pongal!

My wishes for a very Happy and Thithikkum Pongal...:)

Conversation - The Aftermath

"My village in Palakkad was old-world and quaint. Mud roads and bullock carts were all that connected us to the outside world. A friend escorted me from Varanasi to Palakkad and took leave of me at the railway station. From there on, I was in the care of my mother.

I was just 17 years old then- playful, flippant with no cares in this world! There I was in my mother's place with a 1 year old kid, with no belongings, my husband still in strife-torn Burma, no ideas about the future but my life was laughter-filled. Youth does tell, no?"

She laughed softly, nodding her approval at her younger self.

"My mom used to bemoan my fate. She would beat her head and cry, 'What is going to happen to you? Your husband is somewhere. God knows if he will return. Even if he does, will be accept you again? What if he leaves you here for life? And here you are, laughing and playing without any responsibility. All this is my fate.' She would chide me severely and cry. But all those scoldings never bothered me too much. 'Amma, tomorrow is always uncertain. Who knew that I would return to India as a destitute? You didn't know that a couple of months back. But here I am. I mean to be happy in this present day. I shall face what comes tomorrow when it arrives!' This served to annoy her even more but child, what was the point of being upset?

Meanwhile, I contracted an eye infection (Trachoma?). It was severe and it was blinding me slowly. We had no doctors in that little village of ours. My parents tried all known local medications but it was getting worse slowly. My dad had gone on a journey somewhere. While he was returning, he met a country physician on the train. The physician was going to Trissur. My father told him about my eye problem and asked if he could help. He was reluctant but my father offered him money, transportation and shelter for the days he'd spend at the village. The physician consented.

The doctor had two bottles of salt water. In each of those bottles, he had live leaches."

I was reminded of the scene in 'Anniyan' and I shuddered...:) I told her about this and she laughed out aloud. She hadn't seen the movie.

"Each day, he would pin my eyelids open and put one leach above and one below my eyes."

I really was feeling nauseated when I heard this.

"Didn't it hurt you?"

She smiled and said,

"There's something to be said for youth. I was young, careless and fearless. I didn't know what was going on. And anyway, it wasn't that painful. The leaches would have their fill of my blood and fall off. He would then put them in salt water and soak them till they threw up all the bad blood they'd sucked out of my eyes. Then he'd repeat the same procedure. He told us that this had to be continued for a month with intervals in between.

Meanwhile, he had to go to Trissur and he insisted on leaving immediately. My dad wanted him to be by my side till I was cured. He was adamant and said he didn't have the time. Meanwhile, there were others in the village who suffered from the same disease. My father pleaded with him and asked him to treat all these poor souls who would otherwise become blind. My dad promised him lots of money. The doctor finally relented and said that he would come back after 3 days and shuttle back and forth between Trissur and my village after that. And he did keep his promise. However crude or unbelievable his treatment was, the leaches sucked all the bad blood near my eyes and I was fully cured. I could see again.

The doctor came for a month and cured so many other people in my village. We were thankful! After that, my husband returned from Burma after 4 months. To have a husband abroad and not knowing whether he will return or not is one of the worst possible punishments for a woman! I suffered through it silently. There were days when I thought I'd never see him again. But he came back to me. We settled down in Trichy after a few years."

She beamed at me.

"You know, life is not a bed of roses. Thinking back to those days now, I wonder how I survived. I've been through a lot of hardships. To live through them is one thing. But to survive them and live to tell the tale to young people like you is something remarkable, I think. And I haven't lost my enthusiasm for life yet."

I have heard of resilient people before but this was the first time, I was in the presence of one. I don't care if this seems stupid or exaggerated, but I was in awe in the presence of that frail, old lady. She looked straight into my eyes for a few moments trying to read my heart. I looked down after a while. I was a bit troubled about something and I didn't want her to read it in my eyes.

"Kuzhandhai (Child), I repeat: Life is not a bed of roses. Don't ever think that life should be perfect. You may have problems and some may seem more insurmountable than others. Time solves all problems. At my age, when I look back, I find most problems trivial. But think about it. Someday, you will be in my chair and another young kid will be sitting where you are sitting right now. Without all those problems (or what you think of as problems), will your story be as interesting when you tell it to her?"

I looked up. Her eyes had a twinkle. I took my leave of her but I don't think I shall forget her that easily. She narrated everything partly in Tamizh and partly in English. I haven't written down many other by-stories and details she furnished during my talk with her. It would take a couple of more blog posts to detail everything. What I had earlier dismissed as a routine meeting with an old lady turned out to be really memorable! Perhaps youth is more dismissive of old age than it should be?

"Come back some other time, child and I shall tell you some other stories."

Her words are still ringing in my ears.

Conversation - The Exodus

I would like to call it an idyllic Srirangam morning. The Sun God was struggling to pierce through the hazy skies. The air was heavy with humidity. The devoted were making a beeline towards the Srirangam temple tower unmindful of the heat. It was late morning when I set out to pay a visit to an 82 year old lady I hadn't met before. I hadn't paid any thought to this appointment. I had this vision of a frail, demure, soft-voiced lady who would perhaps be a bit incoherent and wander during her conversation. So I was rather jolted out of my complacence when a sharp, old thing opened the door to my bell ring.
"Who is this?"
I introduced myself and immediately the lady came forward spryly to open the door.
"You've come a long way from the US. I see you've been to the temple. A rather humid day, no?"
She spoke in crisp, fluent English tilting her head a little to the side as she asked the question. She, obviously, expected an answer.
I acquitted myself rather clumsily. After all, this certainly wasn't the 82-year old I had envisioned!
"Make yourself at home, dear. I have a bit of asthmatic trouble. So you may find my breathing a bit laboured when I talk."
She smiled.
After some mundane conversation about the recent rains, my life in the US and local news, I asked her if Trichy was her native place.
"No, dear," she replied in Tamil "I was born and brought up in Rangoon, Burma."
I was a bit surprised by this but I nodded my head.
"So, how did you-?"
I suppose she saw the unasked question in my eyes because she continued.
"17 years of my life I led in Rangoon. I was married at 16 in Rangoon and I had my first child there. The second world war was on. On my child's first birthday, I left Rangoon for a long walk to India. They were evacuating us."
She paused, her eyes wandering amongst the ghosts of the past.
"I left with my mother-in-law, brother-in-law and my young child. It was a long, exacting trek through forests, hills, rivers and roads. 35 long days we trekked till we reached the soils of Varanasi. We went till Imphal before some sort of help reached us. We had packed rations to carry us through the exodus. The British helped where they could but again, they were partial to their countrymen. We had a separate route and the white men had a separate, easier trail. They hired elephants to carry their women and children. We didn't have that luxury. We trekked 8 hours a day and then we would rest in small shelters. The shelter was just a raised, mud platform with a thatched roof. They had put up temporary dividers to afford some degree of privacy to each family. These were the dwellings of the Nagas (tribals inhabiting the north-eastern forests of India). They were a rough people, clad in almost nothing, but they helped us out in many ways."

She paused. The old lady whom I thought would be incoherent not only turned out to be sharp but also had my complete attention.

"How did you manage with your kid?"

"Ah, yes. The British gave us rations every few days. A packet of beaten rice, some milk and water. But the rations were of poor quality, always left-overs from what they gave to their countrymen. We couldn't eat much of it. We used to cook at the end of each day. I couldn't feed such unhealthy food to my child. I used to give him condensed milk which we had packed from home. There was one designated person from each household who would carry the milk. In our case, it was my brother-in-law."

She chuckled softly.

"You know, my brother-in-law used to drain the milk bit by bit and we used to have nothing left. Poor boy. He was just 14 years old then and he felt the pangs of hunger more than us, you know."

She laughed again and then became serious.

"It was a cruel trek, though. So many died. We used to step over dead bodies as we walked. There was no one to even dispose of the bodies with due respect. They were left to the wolves and vultures of the forests. There were entire families that were wiped out. The young were left to fend for themselves. I remember there was a 12-year old girl whose family had all died during the trek. She was clutching her infant brother and walking. She used to often moan that her baby brother didn't open his eyes, cry or eat anything. We discovered that the baby was dead. Had been dead for sometime. But the girl was holding on to him tight. So, at night, when the girl was asleep, we threw away the baby into the forest. When morning came, we told the girl that the crows had taken away her kid. She cried a bit but then she believed the story. She was, after all, just a child herself. I took her under my wing and escorted her to India. It was cruel, child."

She paused for a moment gathering her thoughts.

"I am wandering. You'd asked about my son. There were days when we thought he wasn't going to see the daylight. The child was under-fed and totally dehydrated. There came a point when my mother-in-law decided that we couldn't carry on like this. We hired a hut from a Naga and stayed there. My mom-in-law took the baby in her arms and walked to the trail. She sat down by the side and started chanting, 'Are there any doctors amongst you? We need help for this baby'. So many hours she shouted her throat dry but none came forward. People kept walking. At last, one doctor she had known from Burma passed by with his mother. She called him by name and asked for help. But he said that he had to escort his 92-year old mother home and couldn't stop. My mom-in-law literally fell at his feet and begged for mercy. At last, he decided he'd stop for a few minutes and tend to the baby.

He told us that the baby was dehydrated beyond hope. I begged him to do something. He boiled a large pan of water with a huge syringe. God knows why he was even carrying such a big syringe. I had never seen anything like it. He filled it with water and directly injected it into my baby's stomach! The treatment was rude and crude. Yes, rude and crude. Glucose is injected into the body only drip by drip. This was a brute force method-injecting to the stomach. I have never seen such treatment before nor after that day. But, child, it worked! My baby survived and we marched on!"

She nodded her head and her eyes twinkled with pleasure.

"We went on and on. When we reached Imphal, Ramakrishna Mission volunteers took over. We were put on a train. And every day, they used to give us one bun to eat. Finally, we reached Benares after 35 long days. From then began my long journey to my village in Palakkad, Kerala."

She stopped to offer me something to eat. But I was more interested in her story...

I shall continue this resolute old lady's story in my next post....:)

Travel Myths Gone Bust

There are certain travel myths that go completely bust when you go on vacation. I learnt this a longways back. When I was a green teenager, I imagined I'd come down the airport escalators carelessly swinging a fashionable handbag across my shoulder, looking fresh as a cucumber, my hair-do perfect and untouched, my skin glowing, sporting a Colgate smile on my face. A mirthful greeting with adoring parents and friends replete with bouquets, hugs, chocolates et al..completed my imagination. Blame it on all the airport scenes in our movies with our Simrans, Preity Zintas and Rani Mukherjees..:)
Reality bites. You are greeted by serpentine immigration queues; you are lugging two rather heavy hand baggages across the airport; your flight has already been delayed a couple of hours; the flight food really did taste like dog-food and you haven't had anything to eat for the past 24 hours; you misplaced your moisturizer somewhere and your skin looks all dehydrated; to top it all, your feet are cramped and swollen from hours of sitting in the same position. All in all, everytime I get out of a flight, I doubt I look anything near fresh and energetic...:)
The other travel myth that personally doesn't hold for me is the concept of "in-flight reading". I generally find lots of people at airports with their noses buried in books, laptops, memos and what-not. I figured that this time I was going to be one of those people. I was going to be immersed in some book oblivious to the world around me and just look up when the boarding call is announced. With that grandiose vision in mind, I took "Freakonomics" with me. Guess what happened? I couldn't keep my eyes on the book long enough for me to finish one page! The reason is because I see people all around me and it interests me. The young mother who struggles to deal with her baby, an old couple laughing into each other's eyes as they carry on some mundane conversation on yet another journey, executive types who are engrossed in their work, nervous people who shift their weight as they sit around waiting for flights, young teens giggling about a cute guy sitting opposite them...the list is endless! I may never see them again but its interesting to notice a fragment of their lives. How many different shades people do come in! No two people look alike. No two behave alike. The study of humanity is the most interesting thing there is in this world...:)
That’s my two minutes of introspection and philosophy at the airport. And with that, goes me reading “Freakonomics”…sigh.

My Muse has left me.
I have the writer's block.

Not really. Well, I do try to make dramatic statements but somehow they come out better if I have a Julia Roberts or Reese Witherspoon mouthing it for me..:) It is not really any sort of "block" that is stopping me from posting, it is just plain old-fashioned laziness. Basically, there's too much noise inside my head. I've got too many thoughts racing pell-mell across the corridors of my mind. It is hard to sit and isolate one particular whizzing thought and hang onto it long enough to put it down in words.I need Dumbledore's Pensieve. Dumbledore draws out these thin, silvery wisps of thoughts from people's minds and throws them in the pensieve for future remnisciences. How I wish I had such a luxury! Maybe I could go back to all those unwritten, unsaid thoughts and attempt a rewrite. Then again, perhaps it is better not to have such contraptions. I might sorely be tempted to revisit every single memory looking for some hidden,subliminal message and finally go stark, raving mad. Whichever dude said that "A bad memory is the key to a successful life." sure knew what he was talking about.

I do hope to write some in the next few weeks. There's a special pleasure in putting pen to paper. Especially if that act is accompanied by steaming hot Indian filter coffee providing you your delicious dose of caffeine and hot dosas for breakfast..:) For now, I've got papers strewn haphazardly all over the house, a half-read journal flung carelessly across the couch, dirty dishes in the sink, trash waiting to be taken out, bills to be paid, a couple of gaping suitcases to be packed and the usual last-minute stuff to take care of before catching a plane.

Happy Holidays, everyone. Be safe this winter. Ooops..I've rambled on too long and my Muse has already flown away Eastward on the wings of a Zephyr....:) I better go now.

The peach-river source away from the world

If you're wondering what in the world that means, it is the literal meaning of the Chinese word “Shangri-La” (Courtesy:Wikipedia). Shangri-La is something like the mythical “Garden of Eden” supposedly nestled away somewhere in the Himalayas. On Saturday, some of us went to watch the North American premiere of “The Legend of Shangri-La” in Cinti. More on that later. Do check out the show’s official website.

Here the grass can dance,
If you're not afraid to lay on the earth;
Here the stones can speak,
If you're not afraid to listen with your soul.
Here the mountains are close to heaven,
So the legends may live
in the songs of the shepherds.

All about movies..

Gajini

A couple of weeks ago (or more), some 20 people in Lexington, KY were acting as testers for GMail for free...:) We exchanged around 100 mails per day, ostensibly planning acitivities for a weekend. To its credit, GMail didn't break..:) Amongst those plans were watching Gajini. After creating a lot of hype, we rented a projector and started watching Gajini. All our energy fell flat on its face because we couldn't last for more than 20 minutes...:( Surya seemed to act like Arnold Schwarzenegger's Terminator in parts. Riyaaz Khan did try very hard to act and ended up annoying me. Anyways, we never got past the part where Riyaaz Khan reads Surya's diary. RS and I were waiting enthusiastically for this one scene where Surya looks over the top of his coolers and removes them looking completely handsome in the process. We weren't disappointed but it did annoy a lot of people in the room..:) Song locations and choreography were good and I liked "Suttum Vizhi Sudare.." And I liked the romantic scene in the bus, where Surya tells Asin that he likes her. No flash. No razzmatazz. Just a very simple, casual and classy expression! In the end, we all ended up watching a documentary on Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

Majaa

I llllllllloved this movie. It doesn't have any storyline to speak of. And me thinks the director got confused about all characters half way through. Initially Kalingaraayar is depicted as this terrible villain with two Telugu musclemen in tow. Then, he suddenly becomes very samathu and nice. Vikram wants to marry Asin and he does. Then he changes his mind and "advises" her about forgetting him (??!!!?). Manivannan and Pasupathy are awesome fun in this movie. I enjoyed all the songs and have been advising anyone who sees me to listen to "Thai Masam.."..:)) Despite my usual dislike of Vadivelu, I like his comedy in this movie. Wholesome, mindless fun.

Sivakasi

Unfortunate movie...:( This director is doubly confused and all the characters are even more confused. There's absolutely no logic and thevai illadha advice galore in many scenes. Asin's character is rather cute. Vijay's dancing kept me enraptured during the song sequences. Tamilgrounds cut the song "Vadu Maanga"...:( Somehow sat through the length of this movie. Worst movie. Don't watch it if you can avoid it.

It is a cold, blustery Lexington morning with the possibility of slight snow showers. FYI, we are still continuing our e-mail onslaught in GMail and I am cozily humming..

"Kanvizhithu soppanam kanden
Unnale kanvizhithu soppanam kanden" :))

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

He-who-must-not-be-named..

Can someone make an appearance in the last scene of a movie and steal the show? In my eyes, that's exactly what Ralph Fiennes did in Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. Making an entry in the climax of the movie as Lord Voldemort, the handsome Ralph Fiennes was barely recognizable with his flattened nose, slit eyes and bald head. Slinky, sophisticated, almost effeminate yet subtly menacing, he was the embodiment of smooth villainy! Audiences are normally not very favorably disposed toward villains. To overcome that prejudice and actually earn a "wow" from people, all in one scene certainly takes talent..:) Looking forward to future editions of this Voldemort.
By the way, Ralph Fiennes is pronounced as 'Rafe Fine'. The actor is apparently very picky about his name pronounciation. FYI, lest he cast an unforgivable curse on you..:))
Read RS' version of our HP tryst here.

Finding Nemo

I absolutely enjoyed watching  “Finding Nemo” recently. I have no “must-sees” or “cannot-watches” in movie genres and certainly have no aversion to watching action/gory/scary movies. But of late, scenes of unnecessary violence or pathos especially those involving young kids, have become very disturbing to me. Perhaps it is just one of those phases of extreme sensitivity that everyone passes through. If so, I hope to recover soon enough because action movies are certainly entertaining and I wouldn’t want to renounce them forever..:) Or perhaps, I am growing older and I’ve come to realize the value of certain things in life?
Either way, I am quite happy watching animated movies for now. The reason for this post is a statement by Dory (the forgetful, adorable fish) to Nemo’s dad:
“When I am with you, I feel like home!”
I had never given verbal form to that feeling before and when I heard it in that movie, it was like “Bingo!” I am one of those people who believe that “heard melodies are sweet; Those unheard sweeter” but some things do sound good when expressed in words…:)

Story tag answered and a few other things....

Please welcome Lexington's all-rounder Ashokla to the blogging world...:)
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Some songs have lyrics that you can just lose yourself in. On an otherwise dreary day, I was lost in appreciation of a few lines from the song "Engey Andha vennila.." from Varushamellam Vasantham:

"Mazhaiyil nadakkiren, kudaiyAi varugirAi
Veyilil nadakkiren, nizhalAi varugirAi
Dhaagam engiren, neerAi varugirAi
Sogam engiren, thAyAi varugirAi"

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Thennavan had tagged me. So, finally, after days of procrastrination, here is my piece to the story....

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.."

The humid summer breeze and the rattling train coaxed him into an uncomfortable state of drowsy consciousness. He dreamt that Munni ran away, the closer he ran to her, the farther she was, like a mirage. He woke up with a start and squinted at his watch."What is the time please?"A smallish woman, a meek voice as if she was scared that her existence would annoy someone. Her only noticeable feature was her rather large, expressive eyes."4.30"Something made him look at the woman again. He had stopped noticing women long back. Ever since Meenakshi passed away...

But this woman was different. He She reminded her him of someone he knew. In an instant he realized who and the painful memories came flooding back. She looked exactly like his childhood sweetheart Madhu. As teenage lovers in a conservative society, they had often met secretly and had declared undying love for each other.

Then someone had found out and all hell had broken loose. The elders in the village Panchayat had ostracized Madhu's family as she was from a lower caste. Unable to bear the humiliation, she had committed suicide by drowning. That was twelve years back...


Back then, he had thought that the world would stop for his grief; that life would still for his sorrow. He had learnt the hard way that Time's relentless march had little sympathy for anyone. Life had indeed gone on. He had met Meenakshi, loved her, married her, had Munni and lost Meenakshi too, all in a span of 7 years. Suddenly his small town and its confines seemed suffocatingly oppressive. He wanted to immerse himself in something bigger than his life and its problems and his little town offered nothing by way of distraction. He had decided to move to the city, to try his hand at new things and shake away the cobwebs of the past. So here he was on the train to the city. He started thinking about his new career in the city....

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(Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag)

This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:
1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).
And I tag:

Karthikeyan
VS
Madhangy

The Nothing Journals

Beauty contests offer a peek into the human psyche. There’s an absolutely gorgeous twenty-something on stage with the eyes of millions of viewers around the globe on her. She knows she is pretty. She knows she is minutes away from riches and glory if she gets the answer to one question right.

Judge: “If you could be one person in this world, who would you be and why?”

[If you ask me, these are the dumbest questions on earth. If I were a beauty queen, I’d much rather be me myself than any other person in this world!]

Beauty: “Hmmm…I’d be Mother Teresa because then I could serve humanity selflessly and give away wealth blah blah blah…”

If a pretty, talented, young girl with the world at her feet were to come and tell me that she wanted to be a saint, I’d think she was nuts. If our dear beauty queen wanted to be Mother Teresa, she wouldn’t be in the contest in the first place.

Anyways, the reason I bring this up is because of blogging. Recently, I was trying to convince a friend of mine to start blogging. He, unlike me, is actually not vetti and is something of a geek. So, he asks me this question:

“So, why do you blog? Give me one good reason to blog. Convince me.”
“Uh..hmm..ahem…I blog because….uh-eh…”
“Go on..”
“Err…I have no clue…”
“There must be some theme to your blog?” [This is the problem with these logical, geeky types. They are the Hercule Poirots of this world. They want to have “order and method” to every single thing!! (]
“Uh..err..I write about nothing…”

Sometimes, when you are under scrutiny like this, you wish you could give an answer like our beauty queens do; something that sounds really "cool" even though it is dumb! But alas, I can rarely come up with something even remotely interesting. And that, folks, is the truth. I write for no reason. I don’t hope to eliminate world poverty. I don’t hope to achieve world peace. I don’t think that some poor suicidal soul is going to come across my blog in his/her last moments and change his/her mind because of my wonderful (I wish!) writing. I don’t aim to become to this one extremely popular blogger and have crowds hang on to every word of mine. I write because I enjoy the process of writing. More than the end result, the act of condensing thoughts into a communication medium is more exciting than anything else.

I think I have some quirky gene that appreciates nonsensical nothings. It is for this exact same “nothingness” that I like Seinfeld. It is a show about “nothing” and I don’t have to look for hidden meanings or undercurrents of philosophy. Everything is there to see right before your eyes and most of it is “nothing”. Catch my drift? Perhaps I should name my blog “The Nothing Journals”.

Why do all healthy things have to be SO unappetizing? I decided to give my poor body a break from the Subway, Taco Bell, Trumps, BK House food I've been nourishing (?! I can hear my stomach say "yeah right!") it with this week. So I decided I'd go the healthy way at least for one day. I made spinach dal and boiled some vegetables. I am staring at my lunch now and pondering how on earth I am going to finish this healthy "serving" of veggies for lunch. I don't remember having any such trepidations when consuming onion rings, egg rolls, taco salads and burritos. Oh, why does health have to be so hard? :(

Being Serious...

I have decided to become serious. I mean, really. Sometimes you have these "Aaahhhaa!" moments. News just filtered in from the grapevine back home that I don't act my age *because* I smile and talk easily (I'd have understood if I was given other reasons for not acting my age!). That's right, people. Since this is a big insult, I am going to frown all the time. No more smiling. And no more easy talking.
I am going to crib all day long about how I am used to velvet beds and satin sheets in the US; about how I don't like the dirt and dust in India; about the roadside stall Milaga Bajjis; about the crowds, buses and public transports. And I am going to find faults with every single little thing that my hosts offer me- from the coffee that is just a bit off consistency to the dosa which could've used some more salt. I will permanently keep my face screwed up like a GEM (Ginger eating monkey or "Inji thinna kurangu") whenever I talk to family. And to complete the picture, maybe I will take exception to the saree that some maami is wearing when I visit her and I'll decide to throw a tantrum that she was wearing her worst saree just because I was going to visit her that day! Maybe then I will seem more "adult-like" and "normal".

Coming to think of it, I never did think I smiled/laughed too much. My bro used to think I was a "serious" person. See, this is why you need brothers. They will make you feel much better with their support..:) So, let's have a toast to the new "serious", adult-like me!

P.S: I somehow feel that all the above is not going to be possible because I like sleeping on the floor, the dirt, dust and noise in India, the roadside stall food, crowds, public transport. I find it very hard to find faults with people for silly things and even if I do, I forget them. And, I think, the hardest part is going to be the stopping smiling part. Life is too short to keep bad memories..:)

LTCA's Vaibhavam

I've been meaning to write this for a while now but as usual, the procrastrinator in me kicked in. On October 15, we had a Lexington Tamil Cultural Association function here in Lexington. And "Vaibhavam" deserves mention because it was, as all LTCA shows have been, a gala show! Now, what it makes this topic rather interesting is that many of the people involved with LTCA are our fellow bloggers...:) The idea of LTCA as a forum to host Tamil events and provide relief to an otherwise Tamil-parched land was first conceived by RS, Dinesh and Kamal . The first event was "Sangamam", in 2002 (if I remember right). Then we had "Vaanavil" in April 2004, "Thaen Mazhai" in April 2005 and "Vaibhavam" in October 2005.

This time around there were kids' shows, dances (classical and film), orchestra, debate a.k.a. pattimandram and a stand-up comedy show. The kids show was refreshing and fun. It always amazes me how kids are completely nonchalant performers! They say what they think and they do whatever they want. Some are completely natural performers and they steal the show! There were certainly some moments to remember...(Lexingtonites, you know what I am talking about!)..:)

The debate was a big hit and we found some pretty passionate speakers. The topic was "Tamizh cinema paadalkaL, Tamizhai vaLarkkiradha, azhikkiradha". As you can imagine, it generated quite a debate. The Naduvar was PB and he finally decided on behalf of the "vaLarkkiradhu" team..:) Those of you who have a problem with that decision, please ask him. Other blogger personalities who participated are VS and our 'Aasthana' commenter VV. I, personally, didn't get to watch this event because I was off frantically practicing for the music event..:(

We had an excellent Bharatanatyam performance. Then, we had an amazing dance performance for a medley which included "Otha roova tharen..", "Kattu kattu keeraikattu..", title track of Punnagai mannan etc... Kay, DR, D, P, A and gang did an amazing job!

Then we had our music orchestra event. Sujan was our aasthana mridangam vidwan/drummer supported by all-rounder Ashok (man, this guy was everywhere-dance, music, cricket etc...!). We had two excellent keyboardists and a Dholak/tabla player. Singers included yours truly, D, S and Vasu. Sujan wowed audiences with his mridangam for "Maargazhi thingaL" and Vasu with his rendition of "Poo vasam.."! "Andangakka.." had the crowd dancing..:) Dinesh, our drummer last time, was our audio expert. He drove all the way down from NJ to watch our show. Good performances from everyone involved!

Sai Santosh's stand-up comedy bought rip-roaring laughter from the crowd and was a fitting end to a good show.

Apart from the actual show, we had amazing back-stage support for the backdrop, food and a zillion other things that come with organizing an event! I might be boring you with un-ending initials for names but I had to gush about this . I think its special that we had a very talented, well-rounded Tamil program here in Lexington that made us feel at home. Full kudos to organizers Prabhu,Priya, Sundar, Kay, DR! Now that all the excitement is over, I feel like there's a void. I have a thousand other things to do but still, I do miss all those practice sessions, vetti arattais, side-show comedies and general camaraderie..sigh. It is back to reality, school, work and normal life..:(

Bloopers

I read in one book ("How Winners Do It") that the maximum amount of time humans can bear silence in a conversation is one minute. You’re guaranteed that at the 59th second, someone is going to burst into talk. So, to get your way, all you've got to do is make a proposition, shut up and wait for the other person to say something. Sounds easy? I don't know about that.
One of the bad things about being more sensitive than others around you is that you are forced to cover up for other peoples’ bloopers. And mostly, you do that by rushing into speech. Bloopers are anywhere there’s a big crowd. Even a gang of good friends has its awkward pauses at times.
You are at a wedding or a big gathering of relatives. There’s always this one Uncle, Aunt or a second or third cousin who is going to give everyone at least one awkward moment. It might be a rather bawdy comment, a very correct but ill-timed observation or plain undiplomatic frankness. And the blooper people (people who make bloopers) and most of the audience are quite oblivious to the level of discomfort permeating around. They’ll happily act like nothing happened till the silence grows. 20 seconds. You shift feet. 30 seconds. Still none breaks the ice. 40 seconds….
And if you are the rather sensitive kind, you sense the discomfort in the atmosphere and immediately hem, haw and rush into speech to cover the moment. The thing is when you embarrassedly rush into speech, you don’t make sense. You just say whatever comes into your head: pretty random, off-topic stuff. And people forget the blooper but (and here’s the caveat) remember your well-meaning nonsense forever. And the very same blooper person, who was the cause of all this in the first place, will thump your back and roar with laughter at your gaffe. And you’re the toast of parties and the whole-hearted roast of the gang. Hmph. The worst part is that some people take the liberty of shooting their mouth all the time expecting/knowing that you’ll be around to fix their verbal mess-ups.
Well, I used to be the sensitive kind before. I used to feel compelled to make everyone feel comfortable and happy. Then I got annoyed. So I figured I would let people solve their own verbal gaffes. So these days, I sit back, relax, tap my fingers and enjoy the comedy until someone decides to crack...:)

Divine Comedy

There are days when I think that somethings happen just to annoy me. And I hate it when these happen early in the morning. I woke up to the sound of my cellphone ringing its head off (I had forgotten to put it on vibrate). It didn't even seem to have dawned yet. I groped around in the darkness and I couldn't find my phone to save my life. The ringing stopped and I sighed as I went back to bed. I'll deal with it when I wake up, I thought. I was wrong. The insistent ringtone that I'd liked, "Tere Liye" from Veer Zaara, started its melancholy melody again. I groaned, switched on the light ready to blast this person calling me at 4.30 AM in the morning. After frantically rummaging in and around my bed, I found my phone in the crack between the wall and the bed. I had to do some gymnastics to get to it. The ringing had stopped but I found a voice mail that sounded like someone was crying.
Phone rings again.
Me: "Huh..hullo.."
Guy (Obviously drunk): "I neejz ta talk to ya.."
Me: "Who is this?"
Guy: "Cut the ****. Ya know me..I know thaz.."
Me: "You got the wrong number. Sorry." [Slam the phone down]

[Phone ringing again. By this time, I am ready to throw my phone out the window.]
Guy: "You canna slam the phone down on me...pleaaze..talk to me." [makes suspicious sobbing sounds]
Me (sighing): "I think you got the wrong number, man. Go to sleep." [Groaning and wondering what I'd done to deserve this!]

Well, there I was wide awake at 4.30 AM in the morning wondering what to do. I tossed around and couldn't go back to sleep. So I stumble bleary-eyed to the kitchen to get some coffee only to find no coffee. Great, I curse myself. I turn on my computer and some playlist starts playing. First song from 'Padakotti' (MGR Starrer):
"Tharai mel pirakka vaithan,
engaLai thaNNeeril pizhaikka vaithaan."

Idhula situation song oNNu dhaan kuraichal..:(

Finally, I get myself a cup of hot water and go to the living room to watch CNN. I trip across my ethernet cable and spill hot water all over myself. My wireless router had gone bust and I had resorted to a physical connection with the cable running across the room. So there I was, jumping around like a cat in hot water (I mean, literally!). Finally, I settle down to watch CNN's coverage of the earthquake and fall asleep for half an hour with some stupid dreams of visiting Saddam Hussein's Iraqi Presidential Palace. And the weird thing is that his palace has no roof (!). And Saddam gives me some explanation about how good it is for one's health to have no roof. Yeah right.

I woke up thoroughly cranky and started writing this blog...Sigh. If this is God's sense of humour, I don't think its funny. I think this is going to be a long day.

Word play...

"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said,
in a rather scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean-neither more nor less."
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you
can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty,
"which is to be master-that's all."

-Lewis Caroll, Through the Looking Glass

Mid-week rants...

If you select some of US TV's worst programs, Judge Hatchett, Judge Judy, People's Court, Maury and like programs would be on the top of my list. All these "Judge whatever" programs have a hypothetical "judge" in full paraphernalia sitting on the bench. And people's cases are presented before them in which they feel free to sneer, insult, jab at people and come to some random conclusion on what should be done. What I can't understand is how people can settle their differences on TV, in front of a person who is nothing like a Judge. Some cases are divorces, "My husband stole my money", "My wife slept with my best friend", "My marriage is on the rocks" etc...I mean, what drives people to get insulted on TV by some person play acting and sitting in judgement???!! Is the need for publicity and notoriety that great? Whatever makes them think that such personal things can even be settled by someone else? And there are catch phrase ads for some of these programs: "Judge Judy- she is kind, compassionate, caring.." What the hell?
Sometimes, when I am waiting to watch some of my favourite programs, I stumble across the end portions of "Maury". I have to tell you I've come to loathe this guy. Toward the end of one of his shows, there's a contest called "Man or Woman?". People are supposed to guess whether a particular human is a guy or a girl. I have to tell you that this is one of the most freakish things I've ever seen on TV. He settles disputes of the sleazy kind: paternity, maternity, adultery et al.. And you can see people copiously crying, throwing tantrums, shouting, making obscene gestures, getting insulted and saying the most outrageous things all for your entertainment! God, I am disgusted.

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Second, while we are on the topic of marriages/breakups, latest is the split of Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson. I am so fed up of hearing about breakups and heart-breaks. Once in a while, the romantic in me wishes for a fairy tale and the "Happily ever after". Why is it getting so hard to be happy in a relationship? An overdose of "I, me and myself" these days?!? Perhaps, they should introduce a clause in their marriage vows that says, "till irreconcilable differences do us apart".
But I do admire (if this is anything to be admired!) the enthusiasm (?!) of these people in jumping from one partner to another. I, for one, am ready to hear a story about someone who says "I do" and actually keeps it up till "death do them apart"!

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I do have to complain about some traffic incidents. I have been delayed in traffic for 30 mins twice this week in Lexington. That, in itself, is a rare happening because Lexington is a sweet little town with little or no traffic problems. I got stuck on Broadway going into downtown on Wednesday evening around 5 PM. I couldn't make any sense of it because at 5 PM, people are supposed to be heading out of town; not going into town! After crawling for 30 mins across a 1 mile stretch, I was ready to have a fit. The other time this happened was on Monday afternoon on Rose Street. I had to run to UK for something and I made the mistake of taking Rose Street. Man, did I pay for it! I spent 45 minutes on the stretch between Rose/Maxwell and Rose/Washington. Lexingtonians, never ever take Rose in the middle of the day when school is in session.
The Powers that Be really need to fix the Broadway/Virginia Ave intersection left-turn light. Broadway is an artery out of Lexington and after work, this busy intersection is usually packed with traffic. Now, this left-turn light stays green for 8 seconds. Given the response time of people to lights, this means that only two cars can actually go through that intersection. And then we are stuck again for some 3-4 minutes before the next time. I've been stuck at this light for nearly 10 minutes on some days and it drives me crazy!

Beautiful (Sun)Day

I confess that I am guilty of writing similar posts before. But I can't stop myself from eulogizing lazy Sunday mornings..:) After all, what can ever beat listening to your favourite playlist while browsing the latest news on the web, all the while sipping a steaming hot cup of coffee (made in Indian style. Can't stand having black coffee!).

The playlist that I am listening to after a long time and made my day:

Please Forgive me....Bryan Adams
Patience......Guns n Roses
Coming Back to Life....Pink Floyd
Wish You were Here.....Pink Floyd
Could I have this Kiss Forever?....Enrique Iglesias
When you love someone..........Bryan Adams
Bailamos................Enrique Iglesias
Drops of Jupiter........Train
Better Man...............Robbie Williams
Wherever Whenever.....Shakira
Desert Rose...........Sting
Staring at the Sun....U2
With or Without you....U2
Beautiful Day..........U2

On The Wings Of a Sunbeam...

Captured early morning Saturday in front of my apartment.

Microsoft's Deep Throat!

Check out this blog by a Microsoft employee. He is rather brutally frank, passionate about improving the company,pulls no punches and is not afraid to call a spade a spade! It has been a while since I was this entertained. One other thing I noticed was the whopping readership this guy has: 256 comments in one blog. Sure is getting some publicity. But I do shudder to think what'll happen if the Big B ever finds out his identity. But that's what makes being Deep Throat fun, ain't it? :)

Empowerment of Women

Amit Varma had commented on this move by the Haryana government in this blog. Is this a case of disempowering women? I tend to disagree with him. I am all for women's empowerment and equality. I know many of my friends work night shifts in Bangalore and Chennai. But I've also heard stories of terror, fear and harassment at night. In one instance, a drunken taxi driver made an obscene comment to one of my friends because she worked nights. She made a complaint to the taxi company but it went on deaf ears. I wouldn't really trust the Police Force of our nation especially when it comes to women. When we hear stories of rape and harassment at police stations, what confidence would we have in the police?
Empowerment has some meaning only when backed up with proper measures for infringement of certain rights. If empowerment means, "Alright, you can do what you want. But you're also responsible for whatever happens to you", that makes me think twice. I don't think I'd want to work nights and then get harassed in return. I'd rather find a day job and be happy with it. Perhaps the Haryana government had in mind the inefficiency and corruption of the police force when they passed this?

The Truth About Cleo

I, like many others, grew up hearing legends about Cleopatra's beauty. The Queen of Egypt was and is still held as the epitome of the "black, dusky beauty" paradigm. I happened to revisit my old copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar recently. I have been a fan of Mark Antony since reading the "Friends, romans, countrymen.." speech. I mean, any guy who can muster popular support in one speech must be worth something..:)
Anyways, I'm digressing. All this led me to look up Cleopatra in the wikipedia and suprise: I found Cleopatra was not the "black beauty" she was touted to be. In fact, she was a Greek who had settled in Egypt. Read about her here. Just goes to show how much spin people are capable of to suit their own ends!

On a whim..

This song has been haunting me for the past few days. The beautiful lyrics kept growing on me till I had to make a pathetic attempt at translation...but at least, I got it off my mind..:)

Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
Sometimes, the thought crosses my mind
Ki jaise tujhko banayaa gaya hai mere liye
That you've been made just for me..

Tu abse pehle sitaron main bas rahi thi kahin
You were a dweller of the stars before
Tujhe zameen pe bulaayaa gaya hai mere liye
You've been summoned to earth just for me

Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind that
Ki yeh badan, yeh nigahen meri amaanat hai
This body and these eyes were preserved just for me
Yeh gesuon ki ghani chaav hai meri khaatir
That these dark tresses of your hair are for me alone..
Yeh hot aur yeh baahen meri amaanat hai
That these lips and these arms are solely in my care...

Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein, khayal aata hai
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind that
Ki jaise bajthi hai, shehnaaiyaan si raahon mein
Just as the shenaai strikes a tune somewhere
Suhaag raat hai ghuunghat uta rahaa hoon main
I am lifting your bridal veil on our wedding night
Simat rahi hai tuu sharmaake apni baahoon mein
And you are blushing shyly in my arms...

Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein, khayaal aata hai
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind
Ki jaise tu mujhe chaahegi umr bhar yoon hi
That you'll love me like this for life
Uthegi meri taraf pyaar kii nazar yoon hi
And caress me with a loving gaze always
Main jaanta hoon ki tu gair hai magar yoon hi
I know you're just a stranger, nevertheless
Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein, khayal aata hai
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind...

Agnibarathi had tagged me. So here it is....

Seven things you plan to do before you die:

- Go on a luxury cruise to the Mediterranean.
- Leisurely visit Europe and all its famous landmarks. Europe has always fascinated me with its history and fascinating personalities. I'd love to spend a lot of time in Rome visiting all the beautiful cathedrals and artworks that it houses!
- Bungee-jump!
- Donate money to temples and Veda Pata Shalas for the preservation of the tradition of Vedas.
- Own a Ming dynasty china masterpiece unparalleled for delicacy, artistic perfection and beauty!
- Go on a wild Safari in the African deserts!
- Be able to appreciate the music of different countries and traditions. I recently began listening to NPR and they play classics in the morning. I found I was rather ignorant of Western music traditions. I have listened to Beethoven, Handel, Mozart, Bach etc... but never with a trained eye. I hope I find the time to study and appreciate it.

Seven things you can do:

- Write. I never run out of interest in writing even if most of it turns out to be nonsense!
- Read books non-stop especially mysteries (Erle Stanley Gardner, Agatha Christie, Frederick Forsyth, A.J. Quinnell etc...)
- Mehndi: It has become an obsession for me to draw intricate designs!
- Sudoku: Have become completely addicted to this game and play it whenever I get free time.
- Sing moderately well and listen to diverse music.
- Talk with friends on the phone for a long time and not get bored!
- Watch 'Alaipayuthey..' for the umpteenth time and still be as hooked as I was the first time...


Seven things you say the most:

-"Freeeeya vidu"
-"Seeeeriously.."
-"Awesssome.."
-"Google it.."
-"I wanna go to India..."
-"Nonnnsense..."
-"Ranga.."

Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex:

- A warm, open smile.
- Intelligence
- Expressive eyes
- The hint of a stubble - I've found it gives a rugged, handsome look. Never been a fan of chocolate-faced guys. Of course, doesn't suit everyone..:)
- Fierce loyalty and passion toward work, family, friends etc...
- Sense of humour
- Tenacity

Seven celebrity crushes:

- Saurav Ganguly
He fairly leapt out of my mind as soon as I started doing this tag. I have long been a fan of this Bengal tiger as much for his elegant batting as for his cute looks.
- Shoaib Akhtar
I have had a mad crush on this Rawalpindi express since I saw him debut. I love the passion and ferocity he brings to his art! I heard him sing "Roop Tera mastana.." in a Star Plus interview once and that made me an even crazier fan!
- Goran Ivanisevic
I've always liked this gentle giant with his tantrums, aces and all, perhaps because he was an underdog living in the shadow of The Great Pete Sampras. He wasn't the only one jumping with joy when he won the Wimbledon..:)
- Shahrukh Khan
Needless to say, he still makes my heart go "dhak dhak".
- Singer Karthik
I love his youthful voice and fresh rendering!
- Madhavan
I can't think of any girl who didn't fall for his smile in Alaipayuthey. He had me at 'hello'!
- Perry Mason
I daresay it is weird to have a crush on a fictional character. I've been a terrible fan of this lawyer-detective character creation of Erle Stanley Gardner and have read almost all his novels. Daring, living-on-the-edge, bold, strong, fiercely loyal and always on the side of truth and justice- he always seemed to be my ideal of a man!

A few captured moments..

******UPDATED: A small correction- the last pic shot in night mode was shot with Venky's camera, not mine! ****************
I captured this on the go from our car. I might not have done justice to the beauty of the landscape but I simply loved the play of the light behind the clouds and the seeming convergence of land and sky...Reminded me of the line "uppu kadalodu maegam uRpathi aanaalum, uppu thaNNeerai megam oru poadhum sindhaadhu" in the song "Moongil kaadugale.." (Samurai).

Mighty Niagara captured on a beautiful, sunny summer day!

A head-on view of the Canadian Falls from the "Maid of the Mist" .

View of the American Falls..

Grand finale of the firework display..

The Canadian side at night..

Post-vacation ruminations...

Many people would've seen the Niagara Falls. I am not going to do the stereotypical, descriptive post-vacation post about Niagara Falls. Instead, here are a few of my very own personal views/happenings on this trip.

-The amount of desis at Niagara Falls is simply incredible. Priya was shocked at seeing so many Indians around. What with the heat, we all felt like we were in Mumbai/Delhi with a few foreigners visiting. I've realized that one of the perks of talking a foreign language in the US is that usually, none around you will follow your language. I can feel free to talk whatever nonsense I choose without getting weird looks. So it was rather disconcerting to get a few inquiring stares when I was talking in Tamil with our gang. Oops.
-We ate at a Punjabi Dhaba. It was set up like a typical Indian roadside stall with the flies, uncleanliness and all. Indian roadside stalls usually offer amazing food but this one was a horror trip. I got Channa Batura with Batura that looked like half-fried pancakes. The only saver was the Masala Chai but even that was cold and I paid $1.95 for it! Net result: a half-eaten lunch.
-Pittsburgh Lord Venkateswara is truly a life-saver. I mean, literally. We got food from the temple on Saturday afternoon. And we hit the road almost immediately afterwards. After a long, tiring drive, a box of thayirsaadham, upma and boondhi really did me a world of good! We had so much left that the next morning, I had pulihara and thayirsaadham (again) for breakfast! :)
- We missed out on all the nice labor day sales at the stores...:( We saw a Kohl's near Buffalo and all us girls were real tempted to go in and shop for an hour or so. Alas, there was a spoilsport amongst us and we missed it!
- I was driving back on I-75S in the wee hours of the morning. Everyone else had gone to sleep in the car. Along with sunrise came the beautiful vista of the Bluegrass region: idyllic, sloping grasslands swathed in golden sunlight with cattle grazing peacefully. A beautiful, light breeze was blowing and suddenly Amitabh's baritone voice boomed out:

....
Magar yeh ho na saka, aur ab yeh aalam hai
Ki tu nahin, tera gham, teri justju bhi nahin.
Guzar rahi hai kuchh is tarah zindagi jaise
Ise kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo bhi nahin
Na koi raah, na manzil, na roshni ka suraag
Bhatak rahi hai andhere main zindagi meri
Inhi andhere main reh jaaonga main khokar
Main jaanta hoon meri hamnafas,
Magar Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai...
....

That ever-green voice, the beautiful lyrics and the song brought to life the allure of eternal love and romance....A drive to remember for me!

Niagara, here I come!

Well, I am going to be gone for the weekend to Pittsburgh and Niagara Falls. Looking forward to taking a break from Lexington. You see, I can blame this unceasing travel itch on my Dad...:)We moved around so often since I can remember that I get bored of places pretty easily. Anyways, hope it is going to be a good trip. Pics later. Have a good long weekend, people!