Pages

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Vallavan:

Hero's name is "Valluvan" the Vallavan. He becomes "Pallan" because he decides that being ugly, clumsy and annoying will impress Nayantara. Idhu enna logic?? Adhu Simbu-kku mattum dhaan puriyum nu ninaikkiren. He does do a good job of acting like "Kalyanaraman" Kamalhassan including dancing to the remixed number "Aaha Vandhurichu". But why this is essential to the main plot beats me! He spouts a few chauvinistic, pyscho dialogues from time to time and turns around and says:

"Ippadi ellam naan sollalaam..aana naan solla matten yennaa...blah blah.."

Mr. Simbu, ippo dhaane idhellam sonna? Apram enna solla matten-nu oru dialogue? He has some wonderful, logic-less scenes all over the place in the movie.

Reema Sen looks awful without make-up. But she has done an excellent job of acting like a pyscho. I, personally, liked her performance. Nayantara seriously stinks big time! Yuck.

Simbu, for all his self-generated hype, fails to give a hit. I saw one of his press releases where he praised this movie to the skies. Romba dhaan nenappu!

Music stinks. One question for the music director: Why in the world is there a kuttichathan, pisasu type laughter in the background each time Reema Sen is shown? Surely, this is no Vittalacharya movie. To add to the misery, Simbu croons a couple of numbers. He isn't a bad singer but then, his abilities are limited and it shows in the compositions. There's too many finger swishing, whoosh-whoosh sounds.

The cameraman seems to have gone haywire. My head started spinning after watching 30 mins of the movie. Lots of zooming, rotating,back and forth shots etc... Makes the viewer annoyed rather than entertained.

Jillunu oru Kadhal:

Contrary to reviews, I liked this movie. Jo-Surya chemistry sizzles on screen. The acting is natural and flows. A rather improbable plot but I thought it was decently picturized. Bhoomika's transformation from the first to second halves seems rather unreal and startling. The girl who acts as Jo's daughter does an excellent job! Of course, music pathi edhuvume solla vendam...it was superb!

I thought it was a decent watch.


powered by performancing firefox

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Overheard in the Restroom...

We, the people, need to talk. Talk, talk, talk. These days, we can't even resist responding to restroom vandalism. Although, I did it find it very amusing..:) Scribbled on a cubicle cube:

Some poor soul in need of help: This is a cry for help!
Some vetti person:                        Not a very good one at that, if you're scribbling in restrooms! :)


powered by performancing firefox

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Addendum to my last post...

Well, I've had quite a few people disagreeing with my last post. But just to clarify a few things:

- I am not against singing Telugu or Sanskrit songs. I can and I do sing a lot of Telugu krithis.
- I am not a languaget fundamentalist who is maniacally in favor of the mother tongue..:)
- The legacy of the Trinity needs to be preserved for posterity.
- Tamizh speaks to me more than any other language. But hey, that's just me!
- I believe music is a mix of intricate handling of swarasthanas in a Ragam + bhavam + bhakthi. I am NOT speaking in favour of words alone as opposed to a raga.
- Understanding the lyrics and meaning of a song helps me focus more on the bhakthi underneath it. There are people who can just hang on to the raga bhavam and not worry about lyrics, meaning etc... When you reach that level of devotion, obviously everything is rather trivial! I am one of those that has not reached that level of consciousness yet..:) So the lyrics AND their meaning matter to me to help me be focused.
- And lastly, there's no excuse for people who mangle the sahithyam because of their lack of language skills. You can cry yourself hoarse about how only the ragam, bhavam etc..matter. But hey, there needs to be some respect to the composer.

It is "bhaasura/mukha/ kari/ rajuni /brochina/ vaasudevudavu /neevu/ kaadha"

NOT - "aasura mukhakari rajuni brochina vaasude neevukadha"

Anyways, the opinions expressed are solely as they pertain to I, Me and Myself...! :)




powered by performancing firefox

Friday, November 03, 2006

A musical introspection...

Minister Duraimurugan has made a comment that there should be more Carnatic songs in Tamizh. I agree with him partly.

When I was a kid, my parents put me through Carnatic music lessons. My daily commute from Kodambakkam to my school took me 2-3 hours by schoolbus. The driver used to wander all over town before he reached school and ditto on the return trip. When I reached home around 5.30 PM, I'd find my music teacher waiting for me. To my eyes, she used to be the very devil who prevented me from eating and made me shout at the top of my lungs for 2 hours! I'd have a glass of coffee and start singing.

I don't remember anyone having ever explained to me the meaning behind having sarali varisai, jantai varisai, alankarams ,ragam, thalam etc...Don't get me wrong, my teacher was an excellent one. But I was the rambunctious kid that wanted explanations for everything. So, there I was - singing in some unknown language (Telugu, mostly) sans the meaning, without knowing the raga bhavam or the history behind the song. Besides, I didn't have any peers at school who were learning music. Or let's just say, I didn't know anyone who did and we never talked about music much. Film music was much more catchy and interesting and I understood the meaning of the lyrics (for good or for bad!). We used to discuss it on the schoolbus and the lyrics being in Tamizh did help. I don't find it strange that I gave up carnatic music when the opportunity first presented itself to me! It had no meaning to me.

We moved from Chennai to Madurai and my father kept pushing me to take music lessons,

"Child, you'll regret it later. Learn to sing."

I was reluctant. I didn't want to scream at the top of my lungs on an empty stomach again in some unknown language blah blah blah...

But my parents used to listen to a lot of carnatic music. One fine day, I ended up listening to the Late Maharajapuram Santhanam. It was a collection of "Oothukkadu Venkatasubbaier" kritis on Krishna sung live on Janmashtami. I was mesmerized. The voice, the ragas and the bhavam in his singing held me spellbound. For the first time in my life, I understood the meaning of the songs because they were in Tamizh instead of Telugu. It kindled my interest in music again and I started listening to more and more music. I learnt "Mohana rama" on my own with a vengeance just because Shri Santhanam had rendered it so beautifully! I think my teacher would've been happy if I'd applied myself with half the interest I showed in learning this song. :)

Anyways, many, many years later, I feel that now I have a better sense of appreciation for carnatic music than I did as a kid. I understand certain nuances that I didn't earlier. Its not like I am much more knowledgeable now. Maybe, age tempers you with experiences and stress that you realize the soothing quality of music? I don't know. But I completely agree with Suhasini's Sindhu in "Sindhubhairavi":

"Kavalai edhumilla rasikkum mettukudi
Cherikkum sera venum, adhukkum paattupadi
Enniye paaru, ethanai peru
thangame neeyum tamizh paattum paadu.."

[The rich don't have any worries and they enjoy music. But your music should also reach the poor masses. Think about how many people are out there. Thangame, please sing Tamizh songs also...]

Even today, when I sing a Papanasam Sivan krithi in Tamizh, I enjoy it much more than I do a Tyagaraja krithi. A while back, someone asked me to translate my Tamil blog on "Akhilandeswari" to English. I sincerely tried it for two days but I couldn't find the words in English! But when I thought about the same topic in Tamizh, I felt like I could write 10 more pages about it. Sigh. There's something about the mother tongue. Maybe I'd have continued music lessons if my teacher had taught me more Tamil krithis? :)

Regardless of how many foreign languages one is fluent in, the mother tongue will always rule the roost!


powered by performancing firefox

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Why, oh, why...


NY carries this article on working moms. The poor things are converting business trips into time to relax and recuperate. I personally know a lot of working moms who have had to compromise on career to have motherhood.

Read an article that said Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) is a disease solely brought about by stress and that women are more susceptible to it. Breast cancer. Periods. Hormonal changes. Pregnancy and associated physical discomforts. Compromises, compromises, compromises.Too many emotions. Too much thinking. Sigh.

Wonder why men have it all easy and why anyone would want to be born a woman again....sigh.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Confessions of a Desi Mem...

I eat with my fingers sitting cross-legged on the floor. I like to mix the food with my own five fingers and feel the food in my hands. And no, I don't think its "yucky". For the record, I intensely dislike eating with forks and knives. Everytime I pick up a fork and put it in my mouth, I have this paranoia that I am going to poke the insides of my mouth or tongue with the sharp edged fork. And for some psychological reason, I hate "cutting" my food with a knife. I've been conditioned by subliminal messages from movies, soaps and media that knives are meant to kill, maim or disfigure. I remember Vivek's remark in some movie, "Sapattula ithanai vanmuraiya?" meaning "Why so much violence in food?". I am not going to pretend that I am at home eating with forks, knives and spoons.

I write this because of a recent remark of a highly successful relative that knowing to eat with forks and knives is "essential to succeeding in your career". I guess he meant well because you can blend well with your international colleagues if you can mimic their culture. I am perfectly ok with westerners eating with forks and with Indians who are comfortable with it. But then, there are some prissy desi gentlemen and women who look down upon those who can't. Its like you've committed some unsophisticated, primitive act if you say, "I eat with my fingers"!

Speaking of which, I can almost feel the peaceful bliss that descends on me when I eat Thayir Sadham (curd rice) and Avakkai pickles with my fingers...Hmm..




powered by performancing firefox

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Musings on Desh...

I wonder if this Raga was named "Desh" because of the inherent patriotism (Song: Vande Mataram) it is able to conjure up in the hearts of the listener; Or is it because it speaks to the soul that it is called "Desh"? After all, there's few things that touch a person's heart as his/her motherland. Whoever named it so must be definitely an intellectual.

Some tunes lull the mind into peace and serenity for a few moments. Desh is one such. It conjures up images of moonlight, stars, the Tajmahal in early morning light, an infinite ocean of bliss occassionally surfacing a playful wave to dance to the tunes of a Raaga....Aptly enough, Desh is meant to be sung in the early parts of the night lulling the sleeper deeper into undisturbed slumber.

"Brindavana Saranga" is one Raga that reminds me of monsoon seasons, rain drops dangling on the edge of leaves, rivers dancing on pebbles etc...I don't know what this raga is meant to embody but I am thinking it should be something close to what I imagine..:) Aruna Sairam is my favourite for this Raga. She has given wonderful renditions of "Rangapura Vihara" and "Soundararajam". There may be purists and naysayers who'd cite other musicians who've done more justice to this Ragam. But I feel she gives the Hindustani touch (it is a Hindustani Raga adapted to Carnatic music) perfectly!

There's umpteen movie numbers in this Raga and a lot of re-recording in movies and dramas. The serial "Rudra Veenai" by YG Mahendra has used this raga exclusively for re-recording!

These two Ragas have given me islands of peace in the past week or so amidst stresses.

technorati tags:, , ,

Blogged with Flock

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Please help Aditya...

RS has a post on her blog here about a little 4-year old, Aditya, who has an acute form of leukemia. His parents are trying to raise funds for his bone marrow transplant. This is not a fraud scheme. Please check it out here and kindly do what you can to save a young life.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Of People, Pizzas and Personalities...

Started watching "Omkara" yesterday. My Hindi is pretty limited to a few commonly-heard dialects. I struggled a bit with the dialect in "Lagaan" initially but then I got used to it. But Omkara went over my head. Plus, the audio quality was a bit bad and I could neither make head nor tails of what was being said. It was like watching a deaf and dumb movie. After "Lage Raho Munnabhai", this seemed so dark, sinister and boring. I gave up midway and went off to make "semiya upma".

*********

This week has been "damage vaaram". First, on Saturday, I left Cauliflower to boil on my new, shiny non-stick bowl. I completely forgot about it and went swimming. When I came back, the smoke detector was going crazy and my entire house had a charred, roasted smell. The Cauliflower looked like it'd been put in an incinerator and the non-stick bowl was beyond repair. The teflon coating was totally torn off..:(

The cover of one of my plastic containers was touching the edge of the stove and it got melted. Then, this morning, I took a shower and left the restroom door open. The smoke detector, which is closeby, detected the steam from the restroom and started screaming. Annoyed, I threw a pillow at it to ward away the smoke. Well, guess what, the smoke detector came tumbling down from the ceiling. So I stared at it a bit and then shrugged it off. Good riddance to bad stuff. At least, it won't scream at the slightest provocation!

********

I was reading an article about how to be "like-able" amongst co-workers, friends, people etc....I have doubts about how a person can become "caring", "good" and "interested in other people" all of a sudden. The article also went on to prescribe a good dose of "compassion" and "helpfulness" to others.

I have always had arguments with a few friends about the basic nature of a person. My friends say that a person can change completely if the right kind of influence is there. Allow me to be a bit nonsensical here. A person is like pizza. The crust, cheese and toppings together make up the personality. Certain traits are like the toppings on a pizza. If they're bad, you can change them and the pizza is good. But the crust of the pizza is not changed easily. A person's intrinsic nature is like the crust of the pizza. You can't change it that easily. And no matter what you do with the toppings, the pizza is going to be bad if the crust is bad! Anyways, that's my opinion.

I have seen a lot of well-liked people here in Lexington and elsewhere. Certain things just come naturally to them - like being friendly and genuinely interested in other people's welfare. I don't think you can "make" yourself be a certain kind of person.

Monday, October 02, 2006

A few weekend thoughts...

Finally found a few contiguous hours to watch a movie last weekend. I ended up watching Lagaan. I had a jinx going with this movie. I'd start watching it, something'd happen and I'd stop. My movietime yesterday was also peppered with phone calls and little errands but at least I finished what I started..:) I liked it. It gave me a feel-good feeling. But after having heard years of talk, reviews about it, I didn't have much surprise left. So I wasn't "wowed" or awed, but I liked it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Went Garbha dancing on Saturday. I didn't dance much because my poor body gave way to aches and pains mid-way and I sat slumped in a chair watching everyone else. I've decided I should get a chanya choli type dress. All the Gujju aunties/girls wearing colorful clothes and jewelry swirling around with their full skirts gave me this jealousy..:) Gosh, if there was one thing that South Indians miss out on, its dancing! Our culture just doesn't have this woven in. I was just amazed watching all these Northie Aunties - old and young - swaying and dancing with abandon. They weren't worried about who was watching, who was not or whether they were doing it gracefully. They "danced like none was watching" and it was fun!

I was reminded of Gaancase. She sure knew how to twirl to a number..:)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Weekends should have more than 48 hours...:( What with golus, body-aches, dandia etc.., I still haven't cleaned my house. I have a pile of dishes in the sink (that pile never goes away! It is a veritable "amudhasurabhi"), laundry to be done, a closet full of messy clothes that I should arrange, a few calls to make, grocery shopping.....Aaaaaaargh! Grocery shopping and washing dishes are perhaps the bane of every desi in the US. You turn around and you are out of groceries....:( Anyways, now that the work-week has started, I am pretty sure I'll never get anything done until Friday. Then of course, the "extra-curricular" fun starts and I'll not remember all this until next Monday...:)

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Maitreem Bhajatha...

I have a deep reverence for Mahaperiyaval Paramacharya Sri Chandrasekharendra Saraswathi. He had composed a song called "Maitreem Bhajatha.." which MS rendered in her golden voice. I've heard that MS always concluded her concerts with this song. It is a song for world peace and harmony. I found an excellent translation here.

Please do read it!

Monday, September 18, 2006

I don't know what to name this post....

People have an image of you in their head. I consider it more like a map. This image is probably a snapshot of "you" at some point in your life - 10, 20, 30, 34 etc... They make a map initially when they get to know you. And they relate to you based on that map. Initially, this is fine. That's the way I do it, you do it, everyone does it!

But people change in all aspects, in all dimensions all the time! You drift away from people - due to physical distances or some other pressures in life. After a while, when they come back into your life, the image that someone has of you in their head might not reflect the real "current" you accurately. I might have changed tremendously - in attitude, likes, behaviour, eccentricities etc...! If they update their mental map and say - "Hey, this is how they are right now..so we update our map", that'd be awesome! This happens many times and you stay in a healthy relationship. But sometimes, people insist on sticking to their old, worn-out mental map and expect me to conform to it. It gets annoying after a while.

How do you tell them that? It seems rude to say, "Hey, wake up! I am not that person anymore!". Personally, its a bit scary for me because it is equivalent to negating the premise- the person I was some 6 years ago- on which we built a relationship. Sometimes I try to verbalize that I've changed but when they ask, "In what way?", I don't have a clear-cut answer. And what's sometimes even more annoying is that they'll brush away my words and say, "Bah! You're still the same...Don't give me crap!". Denial is the worst form of ignorance that blinds people and the hardest to deal with.

This is especially true with people we don't see often. They don't track your progress or transformation that closely to update their mental map of you. So they are stuck with an outdated map and you are not that person anymore. As for me, I've had a suffocating feeling where I am being forced to be the "old" me!

Monday, September 11, 2006

To the brats in my life....

Before you get double-meaning(ed) ideas from the title, let me clarify. This post is dedicated to the spoiled, ill-behaved people a.k.a brats I've met in my life. These people have contributed to ruining my mood a few times and I've had a few moments of hurt/pain because of them. But nonetheless, these people are important to me because they succeed in teaching me a few lessons of life that even my closest relations cannot teach me! :) If you're a brat, please don't read this post since it may contain certain unflattering remarks about you.

The first and biggest brat I've met so far in my life is one of my cousins. I refrain from mentioning her name in the unfortunate event that this person comes across my blog (and also to save the family izzat? :)). To her alone goes the dubious distinction of having the most acerbic tongue, the ability to unswervingly sting people in their weakest areas and attaining satisfaction from their pain.

During my college years, I met a replica of X. By then, I had become experienced enough in dodging such personalities. My association thus was extremely limited with Brat No. 2. Of course, after coming to the US, I've met quite a few more.

One thing I understood while dealing with brats is that its always about you. YOU made them angry. YOU insulted them. YOU annoyed them. YOU are the problem. YOU are dumb/untalented/boring. They are the most perfect, beautiful, smart, talented beings ever created by Brahma (or Christ or Allah).

I've seen parents/friends/relatives condone such behaviour dismissing it as "childish" or "immature" or "Oh he's my only pampered son!" or "You're elder..why don't you adjust?".

My argument:

How can being rude or hurting others ever be "childish"? Isn't a child supposed to be the embodiment of divinity? "Devilish" is more like brats than "childish"..:) How can a child even conceive of hurting others? And haven't these people ever heard of the quote:

ஐந்தில் விளையாதது ஐம்பதில் விளையாது. (What isn't sowed at 5 won't be sowed at 50 either).

The point is - if kids make a mistake, you correct it and teach them the right way. You don't justify it. To my parents or anyone 30 years elder to me, I will be a kid even now. So can I behave any way I want and hope to get away with it?

I guess we all have a brat in us. I have my own likes/dislikes/anger etc...But I know that disliking someone doesn't give me the right to hurt them in private or in public. And even if I did, I'd probably apologize.

Spitefulness is never justifiable. And brats, thank you for teaching me how NOT to live life! :)

That's my rant for now...

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Longevity

Everyone is obsessed with longevity these days. I am not talking of the longevity of 70 years or 80 years. Its about people wanting to live beyond 90 or 100!

I think I'd be plain bored if I lived upto a 100 years! I mean, what would I do with my time? I probably couldn't go around playing lawn tennis at 95. Most people would find me boring. Employers would no longer want me to work. So what do I do then?

Besides, my grandmother once brought up a very interesting point. She once said that as you age, more than degenerating health, its the loss of your peers - people you can talk to - that actually causes anguish. I think she's right.
So what're all these people who want to live to 112 years going to do with their lives? Maybe they're more purposeful and motivated than I am. Does everyone have SO much stuff to accomplish in their lives? :)I think I'll settle for 75 years.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An afterthought:

After not working out for weeks, I ran like a crazy sprinter yesterday! We were playing a league softball game. I can never hit the ball out of the infield. I don't think its anything to do with lack of strength. Rather, I think its the cricket mentality..:) My batting action most naturally inclines to moving from down upwards in a graceful curve (like you'd loft a cricket ball). But softball requires you to kind of hit the ball flat out, catching the ball at the lower part of your swing as your arm moves from top to bottom of a curve. Anyways, the end result is that I am a pathetic batter. I catch the ball at some weird point of my swing and I make contact but it ain't good enough for a huge hit! So the ball plops down in the infield somewhere and I have to run like mad to make first base without getting out. That's what I did yesterday. And it taught me something.

What, you ask?

Well, I know what muscles in my upper thigh and lower back are used in the sprint action. I can feel their painful groans with every minute move that I make.

But hey, we won! And it was a thrilling 9-run rally in the last 10 minutes of the game! Way to go, team! :)

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

The Vancouver Diaries - Epilogue

This really is the last post! I promise not to bore you any further...

Due to various reasons, I chose not to do my undergraduate in Vancouver and chose to return to India. I was going back alone to India. My parents would follow in 2 years or so. Soon after saying goodbye to BNSS, I said my good-bye to Vancouver also.

My term in Vancouver had tempered me in a lot of ways, made me more tolerant and patient. I traveled a lot during those years and I was better off for that. I'd had the worst disappointments in my short life there, especially with my college dreams. But I'd also learnt something from those experiences. I'd learnt to take disappointment and live with it. I had no idea what India had in store for me. I'd no idea where I was going to do my undergraduate. Everything was uncertain.

In retrospect, I think I've had a fairly interesting life. I haven't liked it many-a-time. I'd have gladly settled for a very normal, Indian life but then, who am I to decide? I didn't know what was awaiting me next either..:) I was thinking one thing but fate had something else planned for me. Looking back, I think Srirangam was in my destiny one way or the other little though I knew it at the moment I waved goodbye to my parents at Vancouver airport.

Now, that is a whole new set of stories! :)

Oh, there are so many stories, so many stories. Which one do I tell you?

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Random Thought for the Day

"சந்தோஷமோ துக்கமோ, எது என்னை தொட்டாலும் வழிவது வாழ்வின் இசை!"

- Prakash Raj in Ananda Vikatan

I like Prakash Raj as an actor. In the few interviews that I've seen him in, I liked his down-to-earth demeanour and precise answers. Somehow, this quote made me think today...:)

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Blog Day is here!

Happy Independence Day, folks!

I am not one for having "days" for certain things. There's "Friendship Day", "Mother's Day", "Father's Day", "Friends Day" etc... I am yet to figure out the difference between "Friendship Day" and "Friends Day". Even if I want to forget all this, Editor Bob unfailingly remembers to send me e-mails about these and many other important days to my Yahoo! mail. Thank you, Editor Bob! :)

The problem with having special days is that I start putting off important things until that one day. I call/e-mail my friend only on "Friendship Day" and feel all self-righteous about it. Its 7.15 AM in the morning, still before breakfast and I am rambling. What I want to say is that: Having special days actually dilutes the importance of certain things rather than enhance it in the long run.

Coming to Blog Day. Blog Day is on Aug 31. Bloggers who participate are requested to select 5 blogs that they recommend and post it on their sites. Of course, this can be done on any day of the year. But then, I am lazy and will never get around to it..:) The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Err..hmm..ok..I can hear your grunts.

I just thought that if some of you can post 5 neat blogs that you came across recently, we can have easy access to some good reads. So Aug 31 is the day, folks!

Let's hope that I remember!

Friday, August 11, 2006

The Vancouver Diaries – XI

Last few months!


I relegated the SFU fiasco to the back of my mind. There were other important things going on. I got an admit at University of BC with scholarship. I had my final Provincial Exams coming up. And above all, I had prom peeking around the corner!


MJ and I hadn’t planned on going. When I saw some pictures of prom costumes, I was sure I’d not have the courage to wear such ball gowns nor would my father permit it! Besides, everyone was going with a date and I didn’t really want to have a "date" date. So I didn’t sign up for it.


One day, Mr. W, who was my homeroom teacher, called me into his office. He was also my Physics 12 and Calculus 12 teacher. I liked the genial, smiling guy and he had a soft corner for me always.

“Subha, why haven’t you signed up for prom?”

“I don’t know, Mr. W. I don’t feel like it, I guess.”

“May I ask why?”

“Errr…because I don’t want to have a date.”

“Oh. I see. You don’t necessarily have to ask a guy. You can go with your other girl friends.”

“Hmmm….errm…”


“So? Can I put your name down?”

“Errm…I don’t think I can wear those ball gowns. I am not used to them.”

I blabbered in a burst of confidence. I really have no idea what made me confide to him!

He laughed.

“Oh. I see the trouble. Well, I know a place where my sister used to go to get clothes. It has some pretty conservative dresses. Here’s the name of the place in the mall. Try it.”

“Ok.”

“Subha, these things happen just once in life. You may go back to your country but you will have some remembrance of us if you attend this. You will carry it with you for life. Ok? Promise you’ll try? I will put your name down for now and also MJ’s.”

I think I am indebted to that kind soul who coaxed me into an experience of a life time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dress hunting!

MJ and I went dress hunting to the mall. We browsed through a hundred shops and we didn’t like any. GK was making her own dress. So she didn’t have this problem.

“MJ, you think we should make own clothes?”

“You know sewing?”

“No.”

“You know to use a machine?”

“No.”

“So you mean to say that in one month you are going to learn sewing, get a machine and actually make your dress??”

“Hmm..when you put it that way, it does seem difficult.”

She rolled her eyes. And we continued dress hunting.

Too low necked.

Too high.

Too low backed.

Don’t like zippers.

Don’t like halters.

Too expensive.

Ewww…what a color!

Amazing but then it’d stink on me.

I look fat in this.

It was two weeks before prom night and we still didn’t have dresses. So finally, tired of shopping, we settled into Rainforest Café in Metrotown Mall.

*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Dress That Found Me

I read Shopaholic Ties the Knot by Sophie Kinsella sometime back. In that, the wedding planner says,

“You don’t find the dress. The dress finds you.”

I think that might be true. The funny thing is MJ and I found our dresses at the same time.

Mine was a dark blue, satin gown with sequins sewn near the top. Hers was a royal blue, plain gown that suited her creamy complexion perfectly! We both liked it instantly and it was reasonably priced.

Finally, my dress had found me!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prom Night, Graduation Ceremony etc…

Prom night is a huge cultural statement. Girls spent so many weeks planning what they were going to wear, how they’re going to style their hair, whom they’re going out with etc…It was girlie fun! J We spent endless hours giggling and conspiring.

As for me, I wasn’t going to do my hair or makeup or anything. I’d just wear my gown, add a light choker and I was done. I left my hair loose. 6 of us had rented a limousine together. So we went away in all glory to the Hyatt Regency at the waterfront. There was dinner and dancing. After that, we had a boat ride on the Pacific in the night! It was a magical night!

Graduation ceremony was at the Orpheum Theatre. I wore a red cap and gown and walked across the podium feeling proud and happy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Goodbye to BNSS!

Thus ended two memorable years. We said our goodbyes to each other, hugged, cried a bit. We signed each others’ yearbooks and hoped we’d see each other somewhere in the future. I took one last look at the Viking mascot in front of our school and walked home in the sunset.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Just one more page and the Diary will end...

Thursday, August 03, 2006

The Vancouver Diaries – X

Graduating High School in La-la land

I always thought Canadians put too much dramatics into high school graduation. The "Ooohs" and the "aaahs" and the "big milestone" talks never struck a right chord with me. For me, high school was something everyone had to do and did. I couldn't understand the hoopla and hype about "graduating". But then, it was in the atmosphere so much that I had to go along. We had "Grad bad hair days", "Grad sleepovers", "Grad breakfast", "Grad golf days", "Grad lunch parties", "Grad swim night" , "Grad PJ party" etc...It was everywhere. And it was fun. We had contests on who had the worst bad hair day. We went to school in horrible hairdos and they snapped pictures of it. One day everyone came in PJs to school. I could never bring myself to do that (Blame it on my conservative South Indian upbringing! :)). So I was content to enjoy watching it.

Then, of course, we had the application forms for universities, planning for which career to choose and so on. It was heady stuff but I was uncertain. Should I go to university here? Or back home in India? Would I get funding? I couldn't work on-campus to support myself and dad would leave in 2 years. I had a thousand confusions running through my head. But I wrote SAT, TOEFL etc... in preparation for American universities. I had a very good score in SAT and was hoping to go to the US for my undergrad. But my dad was loathe to leave me alone at the age of 17 in a foreign land.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A name is a name is a name...

I am reminded of two things as I am writing this:

- One of Sayee Santosh’s stand-up comedies in Lexington where he said, “Who names their kid ‘Babu’??? What kind of a name is that??” We were rolling on the floor with laughter! But it kind of highlighted the importance of a name...

- I am reading “Five People You meet in Heaven” by Mitch Albom. He says, “There’s nothing in the world that’s disconnected. Everything happens for a reason and our stories intersect.”

Why am I writing this? I realized that one’s name is perhaps the one thing that everyone takes for granted. When I joined school, I had to go through the paper-work. Our school secretary entered my name in the school records.

“What’s your name?”

“Subhashini Srinivasan”

“Huh? How do people call you?”

“Subha”

So, she entered my name in the records as Subha Srinivasan. After one term, I realized that my passport name and school name didn’t match. So I went up to her and told her she had to change my name. So she went ahead and happily entered “Subhashini Srinivasan”. I didn’t even think of that incident much.

A year later, I was applying for universities. We hadn’t decided if I wanted to study here. But I thought I would just apply and see if I got any funding. For various reasons, Simon Fraser University was my choice college. I had excellent grades and I was sure of an admit into CS there. So I dutifully completed my application forms and mailed it in. They’d get transcripts from the school directly.

One month down the line when everyone was getting admits and scholarships, I hadn’t received any notification from them. I was worried. MJ had gotten an admit. So I called them up one fine day and asked them why I hadn’t heard back.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Subhashini Srinivasan”

“Let me get your record.”

Silence. I was chewing on my lips.

“Hello, I am back. Hmm..let’s see. Oh. This is the weird one we got where you have no record of courses taken at school, no grades and 0 credits! So we just filed it for later perusal.”

The world literally crashed around my ears. I heard a buzzing sound in my ears.

What? How could this happen? I had straight As!

I went straight to my school office and asked the secretary there if my transcript had been requested by any University. She looked through the computer and frowned thoughtfully.

“Oh. I know what happened. I have two names for you – Subha Srinivasan and Subhashini Srinivasan. All your grades are under the first name because that’s what we entered first. The second one doesn’t have any records under it. Sorry, honey. I will correct it and send the transcript right away!”

I gritted my teeth fighting the urge to pound her.

How could she be so flippant? It had cost me one month’s precious time! Everyone had admits.

I cried my eyes out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A silver lining….

After gut-wrenching weeks, I finally got admits from both UBC (with scholarship) and SFU (no funding). I was upset. People with GPAs less than me had gotten funding at SFU. I wanted to know. So one day, my father and I went to SFU’s computing science department to meet a professor who’d reviewed my application to get the real deal from her.

She was a very nice lady who welcomed us into her office. She looked at my application.

“Oh. A very strong application.”

Silence.

“Hmm….everything looks excellent! You’re a brilliant candidate! You should’ve gotten funding! Now, let’s see why we missed you.”

I was hopeful. At least, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe it was just an oversight. Maybe they’d rectify it. My heart was pounding.

Her clear voice broke the silence.

“Dear, I know what the trouble was. Your application reached us late. Looks like you had an empty transcript first and then sent the real one. That process took a month nearly. All our scholarships are first come, first serve. I am real sorry that we are not recognizing a wonderful candidate.”

I could see sympathy in her eyes. My own were brimming.

You know what’s the worst thing in life? It is not missing opportunities. It is knowing that you have missed one and that too, due to no fault of your own! Knowing always kills you. Whoever said Ignorance is Bliss was damn right!

Maybe if I’d not bothered to ask why my application was not considered for funding, I’d have been better off? I’d have assumed that I wasn’t smart enough and there rested the case. But knowing that I could’ve gotten it and should’ve gotten it were it not for some secretary who messed up her work was too painful! So, where is the silver lining?

In retrospect, I think it was in knowing that I had enough merit to go to SFU on scholarship. Knowing helps you grow even though it may be painful.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Diary will flip its last page soon….