You take Petrie and an egg
crack it inside his head, and while the yolk is blocked by the nose,the albumen tastefully drips through the nostrils and into your bowl.
Coo-hoool!!
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Worlds grossiest looking cooking tool
Peter Petrie (egg separator)
You take Petrie and an egg
crack it inside his head, and while the yolk is blocked by the nose,the albumen tastefully drips through the nostrils and into your bowl.
Coo-hoool!!
You take Petrie and an egg
crack it inside his head, and while the yolk is blocked by the nose,the albumen tastefully drips through the nostrils and into your bowl.
Coo-hoool!!
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Cacao attack!
Exceptionally chilly winter evenings.
The last time you saw the sun, was on the chillier morning ride to work.
When the 7'o clock alarm had rung, the animal instincts hidden deep within your primitive genes had cried out 'its time to hibernate'.
And when your back home,at the end of the day...your blanket and room heater seem like what today was meant for,warm cuddley lazed sleep.
And who the hell asked you to parent the kid in you,put down rules.Life was so much fun without them.
So drag yourself across the flat, change into your sneakers and dive inside your jacket and out you go.
Its unhealthy, you tell yourself, to turn into a chair-worm.
20 minutes is the max you last.Yah its one of those days when you can shut your eyes and almost sleep even while your feet are pounding the gravel.
What the hell! 20 minutes is more than zero minutes.
And then when you feel you have paid your dues...you'v worked, and you'v worked out, and now its time for you to grab the pillow and the remote...bang it hits you!
Stupid chocolate cravings.
You try to fool the kid in you.
Buy kellogs choco.its breakfast cereal...how bad can it be.
munch munch, two bites and you know it.
who the hell were you kidding.
caramels, dark chocolates, crusty wafer loaded with milk chocolate, crispes,nougat..even the otherwise detested peanut variety.
Their immaginary forms and flavours seem to fill your mouth.
Think 'that black top',
Think 'mutton chops',
what the hell, think of the 'cute guy'.
nah..nothing works.
Ghosts of all the burnt umber devils eaten over the last two decades haunt your mouth and palate,mercilessly tickle your tastebuds.
And then you just succumb.
My roommate has just returned , and has a giant stash of twix, hersheys, champagne n strawberry filled delight,
and more.
Lets say we had quite a time tonight. And I had to eat quite a bit before I could re-affirm my true love.
Bitter dark chocolates rule.
The last time you saw the sun, was on the chillier morning ride to work.
When the 7'o clock alarm had rung, the animal instincts hidden deep within your primitive genes had cried out 'its time to hibernate'.
And when your back home,at the end of the day...your blanket and room heater seem like what today was meant for,warm cuddley lazed sleep.
And who the hell asked you to parent the kid in you,put down rules.Life was so much fun without them.
So drag yourself across the flat, change into your sneakers and dive inside your jacket and out you go.
Its unhealthy, you tell yourself, to turn into a chair-worm.
20 minutes is the max you last.Yah its one of those days when you can shut your eyes and almost sleep even while your feet are pounding the gravel.
What the hell! 20 minutes is more than zero minutes.
And then when you feel you have paid your dues...you'v worked, and you'v worked out, and now its time for you to grab the pillow and the remote...bang it hits you!
Stupid chocolate cravings.
You try to fool the kid in you.
Buy kellogs choco.its breakfast cereal...how bad can it be.
munch munch, two bites and you know it.
who the hell were you kidding.
caramels, dark chocolates, crusty wafer loaded with milk chocolate, crispes,nougat..even the otherwise detested peanut variety.
Their immaginary forms and flavours seem to fill your mouth.
Think 'that black top',
Think 'mutton chops',
what the hell, think of the 'cute guy'.
nah..nothing works.
Ghosts of all the burnt umber devils eaten over the last two decades haunt your mouth and palate,mercilessly tickle your tastebuds.
And then you just succumb.
My roommate has just returned , and has a giant stash of twix, hersheys, champagne n strawberry filled delight,
and more.
Lets say we had quite a time tonight. And I had to eat quite a bit before I could re-affirm my true love.
Bitter dark chocolates rule.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Decembers here!
The International Risk team shifted to the new swanky office for a year.
Till the new campus gets built.
As everyone already knew...im an amazing packer.It took me precisely 10 minutes to sort, shred and pack every single paper I had ever printed, every single handout, mail, salary slip , blah.
Everyone else had packed their belongings atleast a day in advance.
Pshaw!! whats the fun in that.Theres definitely no adrenaline rush without last minute panic.
Videos from our lucknow offsite were out.S and D's snake dance was a scandalous hit.
Except for rexy no one else has been allowed to make copies.
Winters have slowly crept in...mornings are deliciously chilly.
2 years ago few friends and I had gone for a dalhousie-chamba-khajjiar trek.Spanning over 5 days, dec25 onwards, temp at night 2 degs below zero.
Your toes start going numb inspite of snow boots, and two pairs of woolen socks.
And every part of ur exposed flesh singes from the icy wind.
And only then can you appreciate the 5am royal blue sky with the sun bleeding in, throwing pink shadows across the vanilla peaks.
Cos you know the price your paying for it.
Cos you know you wouldn get this anywhere else.
Feel like starting the usual year end badgerings for 'lets go for a trip/treck'.
But 4 out of the 8 usual suspects are struck down with the marriage fever.
Gangotri seems like as distant a plan as its always been over the last few years.
Sigh.
Very few people get to enjoy it.
With their dslrs.
Peak Bhagirati
Shivling
For more check out Kirat rawan's Photo Page.
Till the new campus gets built.
As everyone already knew...im an amazing packer.It took me precisely 10 minutes to sort, shred and pack every single paper I had ever printed, every single handout, mail, salary slip , blah.
Everyone else had packed their belongings atleast a day in advance.
Pshaw!! whats the fun in that.Theres definitely no adrenaline rush without last minute panic.
Videos from our lucknow offsite were out.S and D's snake dance was a scandalous hit.
Except for rexy no one else has been allowed to make copies.
Winters have slowly crept in...mornings are deliciously chilly.
2 years ago few friends and I had gone for a dalhousie-chamba-khajjiar trek.Spanning over 5 days, dec25 onwards, temp at night 2 degs below zero.
Your toes start going numb inspite of snow boots, and two pairs of woolen socks.
And every part of ur exposed flesh singes from the icy wind.
And only then can you appreciate the 5am royal blue sky with the sun bleeding in, throwing pink shadows across the vanilla peaks.
Cos you know the price your paying for it.
Cos you know you wouldn get this anywhere else.
Feel like starting the usual year end badgerings for 'lets go for a trip/treck'.
But 4 out of the 8 usual suspects are struck down with the marriage fever.
Gangotri seems like as distant a plan as its always been over the last few years.
Sigh.
Very few people get to enjoy it.
With their dslrs.
Peak Bhagirati
Shivling
For more check out Kirat rawan's Photo Page.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Please dont die
and if you die before i leave
what on earth becomes of me
look around theres noone here
to love me and hold me
take me
dancing
i love music
keep on
singing
we wont loose it
what on earth becomes of me
look around theres noone here
to love me and hold me
take me
dancing
i love music
keep on
singing
we wont loose it
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Roots
Five years back I was introduced to a word , called 'bong'.
'bongs are everywhere', id hear on campus,hostel,mess,...during saraswati puja, duringstats lectures,during the lab.
And God , the omniscient,let me be a sinha.
I wonder how life would have been as a mukherjee, ganguly or worse, a bose.
And the moment anyone would discover that no, im not from bihar or any part of north indian, id be like the friend who passed his md and everyone wants his opinion on all the possible ailments.
Id get educated from the rest on how 'the bongs'were.
From the rude 'tell me,whats with them, do they have a disease or something, they'r always huddled together in groups'
to the cute ' man u and ahana and the other bong girls are always on drugs , so high on life'...i realised my community was obviously a popular conversation piece.
'ohh sweetie, but ur not one...oh u are ??!!!ohh well u dont look like one ...infact u never talk in bengali...ya i know non of us would understand even if u did....well u see ur not one of them'.
I wonder how my dear hindi speaking delhite friends would react in pune, or alhabad or pondicherry or anywherethe national language wasnt spoken , atleast not with the national accent :)
"Well if uv been in amex for 4 months ud learn bengali sooner or later, cos its full of bongs'.
Well dearies,I learnt bits of tamil, and marathi and malyali ..the same way.
No seriously, inspite of hindi being the national language, the rest of non-north india actually still prefers their mother tounge.
So if any of you ever attended maths lectures with me 4 years back,youd have picked up decent marathi from a class full of erudites from pune.Or, Tamil from the 7 tams in my batch at school.
Iv been trying to figure out what the problem is,what causes the great divide.
Do the non bongs feel left out, do they feel their space is being invaded .. what?
At times, during the repetitive lunch discussions about how bongs are I get a lil bugged.Well to hell with u all, lets name two famous gujrati cinematographers, physicists,world renowned authors, nobel laureates and one miss universe(heh heh).
And then id recall the creepy absolute alubhate stereotypes even iv made fun of and avoided all my life.but hey who hasnt seen a flashy punjabi or a miserly baniya.
But then what fun would it be with probashis like me who forget to switch on their radios for mahalaya,or who dont launch of into 'aai kamon achish' every time they see someone from the east.What fun is a jignesh who doeant eat dhokla, a chopra who doesn accent her 'dahi' or a dhakai who doesnt say 'bujhla'.
I guess all im trying to say ..is ...just cos they have left their hometowns, dont expect them to forget their identities,to wipe out their roots.It would be as fake as a two months 'cannedda' return's accent.
Today was bijoya.I generally dislike going for the puja all alone, feel homesick and spaced out.I had come home early and decided tp spend the evening with my dvds.However, my roomie rang me up from the gate and we ran off to the nearby pandal.The aarti was over by then and the dhak beats faded to a whole pile of entertainment...dances, skits, blah blah....and we stood there,one event after another ...and i realised that around 15 years ago , back in bombay , we used to have the exact same setup of the pandal, almost similar itenaries ....there was such an uncanny resemblance to the whole scene.
Every year all the kids would be performing something or other.
Every year there would be atleast one play we all would rehearse for days.
Every year didi and I would kick everyones butt in the drawing competitions :D
Space and time didnt matter, we bongs were all just the same :)
A hearty 'Shubho Bijoya' to the millions of people who dont read my blog and the couple who do .
This was definitely a very 'puja-is-gone-and-i-miss-home' speech.
'bongs are everywhere', id hear on campus,hostel,mess,...during saraswati puja, duringstats lectures,during the lab.
And God , the omniscient,let me be a sinha.
I wonder how life would have been as a mukherjee, ganguly or worse, a bose.
And the moment anyone would discover that no, im not from bihar or any part of north indian, id be like the friend who passed his md and everyone wants his opinion on all the possible ailments.
Id get educated from the rest on how 'the bongs'were.
From the rude 'tell me,whats with them, do they have a disease or something, they'r always huddled together in groups'
to the cute ' man u and ahana and the other bong girls are always on drugs , so high on life'...i realised my community was obviously a popular conversation piece.
'ohh sweetie, but ur not one...oh u are ??!!!ohh well u dont look like one ...infact u never talk in bengali...ya i know non of us would understand even if u did....well u see ur not one of them'.
I wonder how my dear hindi speaking delhite friends would react in pune, or alhabad or pondicherry or anywherethe national language wasnt spoken , atleast not with the national accent :)
"Well if uv been in amex for 4 months ud learn bengali sooner or later, cos its full of bongs'.
Well dearies,I learnt bits of tamil, and marathi and malyali ..the same way.
No seriously, inspite of hindi being the national language, the rest of non-north india actually still prefers their mother tounge.
So if any of you ever attended maths lectures with me 4 years back,youd have picked up decent marathi from a class full of erudites from pune.Or, Tamil from the 7 tams in my batch at school.
Iv been trying to figure out what the problem is,what causes the great divide.
Do the non bongs feel left out, do they feel their space is being invaded .. what?
At times, during the repetitive lunch discussions about how bongs are I get a lil bugged.Well to hell with u all, lets name two famous gujrati cinematographers, physicists,world renowned authors, nobel laureates and one miss universe(heh heh).
And then id recall the creepy absolute alubhate stereotypes even iv made fun of and avoided all my life.but hey who hasnt seen a flashy punjabi or a miserly baniya.
But then what fun would it be with probashis like me who forget to switch on their radios for mahalaya,or who dont launch of into 'aai kamon achish' every time they see someone from the east.What fun is a jignesh who doeant eat dhokla, a chopra who doesn accent her 'dahi' or a dhakai who doesnt say 'bujhla'.
I guess all im trying to say ..is ...just cos they have left their hometowns, dont expect them to forget their identities,to wipe out their roots.It would be as fake as a two months 'cannedda' return's accent.
Today was bijoya.I generally dislike going for the puja all alone, feel homesick and spaced out.I had come home early and decided tp spend the evening with my dvds.However, my roomie rang me up from the gate and we ran off to the nearby pandal.The aarti was over by then and the dhak beats faded to a whole pile of entertainment...dances, skits, blah blah....and we stood there,one event after another ...and i realised that around 15 years ago , back in bombay , we used to have the exact same setup of the pandal, almost similar itenaries ....there was such an uncanny resemblance to the whole scene.
Every year all the kids would be performing something or other.
Every year there would be atleast one play we all would rehearse for days.
Every year didi and I would kick everyones butt in the drawing competitions :D
Space and time didnt matter, we bongs were all just the same :)
A hearty 'Shubho Bijoya' to the millions of people who dont read my blog and the couple who do .
This was definitely a very 'puja-is-gone-and-i-miss-home' speech.
Monday, August 08, 2005
How do amazing days start
With
Chilled milk n kellogs honey cornflakes, a bowl of papaya from the freezer, and a cup of nice coffee.
Or 2 slices of crisp toast n one egg sunny side up n coffee.
And the crossword section of times/sudoku(medium)
And n 102.5 fm pe achche gane at 8am,
On a round coffee table with blue checquered table cloth
And a blue vase full of yellow flowers.coffee in a red mug.
Peferably in the kitchen facing a tiny garden with a naughty labrador running around.
And yours?
Chilled milk n kellogs honey cornflakes, a bowl of papaya from the freezer, and a cup of nice coffee.
Or 2 slices of crisp toast n one egg sunny side up n coffee.
And the crossword section of times/sudoku(medium)
And n 102.5 fm pe achche gane at 8am,
On a round coffee table with blue checquered table cloth
And a blue vase full of yellow flowers.coffee in a red mug.
Peferably in the kitchen facing a tiny garden with a naughty labrador running around.
And yours?
Sunday, July 10, 2005
The art of stir fry
The ancient Chinese style of quickly sautéing vegetables and bits of poultry, meat, or seafood has its own yin and yang. The first part of the process is slow, relaxed, and almost meditative (cutting the vegetables and other ingredients into bite-size pieces; mincing the garlic, ginger, herbs, etc.; mixing the sauce so it's ready and waiting), and the second part is fast and frenetic as you quickly toss the sizzling ingredients, adding the sauce at the last minute so your don't boil away the ingredients' freshness.
Resulting in extremely crunchy , deliciously green greens (beans etc), vibrant sunny yellows(carrots etc), very low on oil content and non of the soggy lumpy overcooked gunk that im kinda fed up of having.
And at the expense of rexy screaming 'just use that word just once more and ..!!'
let me emphasise...on the texture
you chew and you know what your eating.
Beans taste like beans and carrots like themselves.
Self sufficient individuals who are not lost in a brownish gravy of onions and zeera and blah!!!
Its like attitude on your plate.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Friday, July 01, 2005
Swan Lake
Swan Lake was the first of Tchaikovsky's three great ballets
The history of the ballet itself is shaky. Tchaikovsky originaly wrote a ballet for his sister's children, based on a popular Russian fairy tale entitled "Lake of the Swans." Little did Tchaikovsky know that he would be be commisioned years later by two great masters of Russian ballet, Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, to compose a score for a new full-length ballet based on the same tale.
Detailed posting on the ballet itself in a later post(hopefully after iv heard it)If the music is so heavenly, I wonder how ethereal watching the ballet must be.
Enjoy a snippet for now.
Swan Lake tells the story of young Prince Siegfried, who falls in love with the Swan Queen Odette, a woman transformed into a bird by an evil sorcerer. Odette explains that she is destined to remain a strange composite creature, until rescued by a man's undying love.
Enthralled by her beauty, The Prince pledges his eternal love - but later, at a party in honor of his 21st birthday, he is tricked by the sorcerer, von Rothbart, into declaring his love for Odile, an evil twin of Odette. Realizing his inadvertent betrayal, the Prince rushes back to the lake. There, he battles Von Rothbart, and destroys his power. The lovers are then reunited.
click here
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Tango post dinner
with or without you,
I cant live,
with or without you
No its not a guy.Its me.Iv re-discovered the old me.
And even though im going through a bad spot , theres a sense of peace, a reassurance....someones there, im there.
As rexy said once (she gets mighty offended if i mentioned 'someone once said'....yah..its rexy who said it alright)
"if we could go back to our childhood, back when there werent any constraints, and try to recall what we wanted back then, what made us really happy, bingo, thats what we need to look for.Cos our definition of happiness gets grossly screwed up by the limits we put on ourselves as we grow up. "
I remember being a hyper active, super enthu kid.About what, if one might ask....at the expense of sounding cliched....id say outright..about life.
It could be a pile of tamarind seeds that we used to play with,
a tattered comic,
sitting under the table playing pretend games,
patiently digging tunnels in abandoned flower pots for immaginary trains on hot sunday afternoons ,
wearing didis old raggedy coat in winter mornings and sitting on a tiny desk dad had gotten especially for me and writing a book..yup...for some uncanny reason my mom encouraged this activity ..probably imagining her daughter would grow up to be somebody imp while iwas convinced that i was writing a real book .. at the age of 9..with proper index and something called limmericks...a term and poetry style recently picked up from the fat birthday copy of alice in wonderland...
the fact that life has possibilities..is exciting.Nothing pre-decided, you can do anything, you can be anyone,you make ur own rules.
As i keep saying all the time ....'one life'.!!!
i want to do a bit of everything that catches my fancy.
I want to, need to , live my life to fullest.
hey, what if iv been really good and when i die the big guy up there says 'sorry kiddo, you got nirvana.no more earth lives for you anymore'??
Thats what i love about staying in delhi, without my family.Nopes, I aint the family hater types.just that with this kinda freedom, I get to go off to these mini trips on and off with a bunch of friends.And what i love about them, is the sense of freedom, the unplanned ' hey lets take this road cos itskinda interesting' feel.The fact that i have a bag on my back with all that i need, and i can walk off into any direction anytime.I love the unbounded feel.
Even if i didnt want to do something, i need to know I could if i wanted to.Imagine laying down boundaries for someone like me.
So here I am , after a 'nothing to mention' day at work, at pvr, waiting to catch up a movie with a friend.I enter Ohm book stores.Now as a kid, I could get even super enthu being in a stationary shop (all the cool gadgety pens and crisp sheets of paper)and libraries ... later this energy got diverted to bakeries and coffee houses
Faint music in the background.Very loungy, hotelly.I have no clue what it is.'swan lake??'....
Bang!!
see .. I have no clue what swan lake is..as in who composed it(tchaiko-something??), when, why , blah blah....
But im excited.the word swan lake’s entered my brain and now its going to be jumping all around the place.
I mean im truelly all kicked up.
I need to listen to some old classics, and esp swan lake.
I know, I know, what ur thinking.But thats exactly what iv been trying to say.It doesnt have to make sense, but the silliest thing can make me feel so damn high.Im so terribly happy, almost drugged(this is where rexy screams ' god u dramatise everything')
I pick up a anita desai...a hanif kureishi and a translated satyajit ray.
The first two cos i leafed through the books and really liked what i read, so full comments only after I finish them.
Anita desai's writing style reminds me a lot of my school days, back in cal.
The last one cos Im trying to slowly pick up bong lit where id left it ages back ..and eng versions are easily accessible.
Then I go in for a two hour of Mr n Mrs smith.I love it man.Thats the kind of life id love.(post their discovering each others identity)they are totally equalls, and they are such a team.I come back almost feeling that i'll go back home to a black suede clad husband and a giant house with a artilerry chamber built into the oven.What the hell, I might even do the tango post dinner .
Im actually going through a tough time.which is why im pleasently shocked that the presence of my old nutcase selfis much stronger than earlier.
im back home, Iv fixed up the speakers around my room, cosied up in my bed, playing floyd (spent a grand on books,swan lake another day) and writing all this.
I cant live,
with or without you
No its not a guy.Its me.Iv re-discovered the old me.
And even though im going through a bad spot , theres a sense of peace, a reassurance....someones there, im there.
As rexy said once (she gets mighty offended if i mentioned 'someone once said'....yah..its rexy who said it alright)
"if we could go back to our childhood, back when there werent any constraints, and try to recall what we wanted back then, what made us really happy, bingo, thats what we need to look for.Cos our definition of happiness gets grossly screwed up by the limits we put on ourselves as we grow up. "
I remember being a hyper active, super enthu kid.About what, if one might ask....at the expense of sounding cliched....id say outright..about life.
It could be a pile of tamarind seeds that we used to play with,
a tattered comic,
sitting under the table playing pretend games,
patiently digging tunnels in abandoned flower pots for immaginary trains on hot sunday afternoons ,
wearing didis old raggedy coat in winter mornings and sitting on a tiny desk dad had gotten especially for me and writing a book..yup...for some uncanny reason my mom encouraged this activity ..probably imagining her daughter would grow up to be somebody imp while iwas convinced that i was writing a real book .. at the age of 9..with proper index and something called limmericks...a term and poetry style recently picked up from the fat birthday copy of alice in wonderland...
the fact that life has possibilities..is exciting.Nothing pre-decided, you can do anything, you can be anyone,you make ur own rules.
As i keep saying all the time ....'one life'.!!!
i want to do a bit of everything that catches my fancy.
I want to, need to , live my life to fullest.
hey, what if iv been really good and when i die the big guy up there says 'sorry kiddo, you got nirvana.no more earth lives for you anymore'??
Thats what i love about staying in delhi, without my family.Nopes, I aint the family hater types.just that with this kinda freedom, I get to go off to these mini trips on and off with a bunch of friends.And what i love about them, is the sense of freedom, the unplanned ' hey lets take this road cos itskinda interesting' feel.The fact that i have a bag on my back with all that i need, and i can walk off into any direction anytime.I love the unbounded feel.
Even if i didnt want to do something, i need to know I could if i wanted to.Imagine laying down boundaries for someone like me.
So here I am , after a 'nothing to mention' day at work, at pvr, waiting to catch up a movie with a friend.I enter Ohm book stores.Now as a kid, I could get even super enthu being in a stationary shop (all the cool gadgety pens and crisp sheets of paper)and libraries ... later this energy got diverted to bakeries and coffee houses
Faint music in the background.Very loungy, hotelly.I have no clue what it is.'swan lake??'....
Bang!!
see .. I have no clue what swan lake is..as in who composed it(tchaiko-something??), when, why , blah blah....
But im excited.the word swan lake’s entered my brain and now its going to be jumping all around the place.
I mean im truelly all kicked up.
I need to listen to some old classics, and esp swan lake.
I know, I know, what ur thinking.But thats exactly what iv been trying to say.It doesnt have to make sense, but the silliest thing can make me feel so damn high.Im so terribly happy, almost drugged(this is where rexy screams ' god u dramatise everything')
I pick up a anita desai...a hanif kureishi and a translated satyajit ray.
The first two cos i leafed through the books and really liked what i read, so full comments only after I finish them.
Anita desai's writing style reminds me a lot of my school days, back in cal.
The last one cos Im trying to slowly pick up bong lit where id left it ages back ..and eng versions are easily accessible.
Then I go in for a two hour of Mr n Mrs smith.I love it man.Thats the kind of life id love.(post their discovering each others identity)they are totally equalls, and they are such a team.I come back almost feeling that i'll go back home to a black suede clad husband and a giant house with a artilerry chamber built into the oven.What the hell, I might even do the tango post dinner .
Im actually going through a tough time.which is why im pleasently shocked that the presence of my old nutcase selfis much stronger than earlier.
im back home, Iv fixed up the speakers around my room, cosied up in my bed, playing floyd (spent a grand on books,swan lake another day) and writing all this.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
creative outlets recquired
Right now, I wanna cook mango chicken in a full steel industrial kitchen.
...when i build my house two things will get max focus..the kitchen and the bathroom.
and the lounge maybe.
what do u do when u have so many designs circling in ur brain??
leave an analytics ka job and get into
designing??
photography??
marketing??
advertising??
open a coffee shop with a library??
open a restaurant??
a giant bookshop??
Ppl say that when ur older u get trapped in lot of obligations and constraints..so if u wanna know what u want to do go back to ur childhood and recall what u wanted to do.
all of the above.
Maybe except for photography.
whenever i see snaps of any cool interiors in a paper i start taking mental notes.
I have a strong feeling that one day i'll have a drastic career change.
...when i build my house two things will get max focus..the kitchen and the bathroom.
and the lounge maybe.
what do u do when u have so many designs circling in ur brain??
leave an analytics ka job and get into
designing??
photography??
marketing??
advertising??
open a coffee shop with a library??
open a restaurant??
a giant bookshop??
Ppl say that when ur older u get trapped in lot of obligations and constraints..so if u wanna know what u want to do go back to ur childhood and recall what u wanted to do.
all of the above.
Maybe except for photography.
whenever i see snaps of any cool interiors in a paper i start taking mental notes.
I have a strong feeling that one day i'll have a drastic career change.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
The league of Almighty Dads
An earlier post which somehow i left in the draft bin.
Fathers are the bestest people to talk to.They have seen the world from a whole different angle from the mothers,will offer some of the most practical advices .They will love you a lot, appreciate everything about you and will be perhaps the only man on earth who will appreciate your wholesome existence.
And so , whenever my mind is full of issues with a zillion angles, and I feel my peers are no longer capable of providing any value addition to my thought process, i want to talk it out with dad.The only hitch is, its not my dad but rexy's.
Another thing i forgot to mention about the amazing clan of dad's is that they get wildly worked up about everything related to their own daughters.
So if i pick up the phone and say "kamon acho" with a nano-speck-less enthu my dad gets all worked up.
"Are you ok",
" is your health all right",
"are you eating well",
"are you having enough fruits",
"are you resting enuf"
(baba, i started playing tennis)
"dont exert yourself!"
An exteremly excited "baba im going on a trek with friends" gets translated to "baba im fed up with life and am trying my best to cause maximum injuries to myself " for my dad.
To cut a long story short, he freaks out about everything. I dont blame him ... maybe i will too when I have kids of my own. But in case of rexy's dad its just perfect.the only grown up around with whom I can have these zillion discussions and not freak him out.
Some of the really amazing advices iv been given by both mine and her pop :
1)to know a person observe his small gestures, not the big acts.
2)a value system will be more about well being, about being playful, about being healthy in all aspects.Dont narrow it down to tiny focal points and loose your perspective.
Fathers are the bestest people to talk to.They have seen the world from a whole different angle from the mothers,will offer some of the most practical advices .They will love you a lot, appreciate everything about you and will be perhaps the only man on earth who will appreciate your wholesome existence.
And so , whenever my mind is full of issues with a zillion angles, and I feel my peers are no longer capable of providing any value addition to my thought process, i want to talk it out with dad.The only hitch is, its not my dad but rexy's.
Another thing i forgot to mention about the amazing clan of dad's is that they get wildly worked up about everything related to their own daughters.
So if i pick up the phone and say "kamon acho" with a nano-speck-less enthu my dad gets all worked up.
"Are you ok",
" is your health all right",
"are you eating well",
"are you having enough fruits",
"are you resting enuf"
(baba, i started playing tennis)
"dont exert yourself!"
An exteremly excited "baba im going on a trek with friends" gets translated to "baba im fed up with life and am trying my best to cause maximum injuries to myself " for my dad.
To cut a long story short, he freaks out about everything. I dont blame him ... maybe i will too when I have kids of my own. But in case of rexy's dad its just perfect.the only grown up around with whom I can have these zillion discussions and not freak him out.
Some of the really amazing advices iv been given by both mine and her pop :
1)to know a person observe his small gestures, not the big acts.
2)a value system will be more about well being, about being playful, about being healthy in all aspects.Dont narrow it down to tiny focal points and loose your perspective.
travails of a nubile lass
sunday morning.
lazy sunday morning.
wake up late , laze on the sofa with ur half asleep nephew lying half
across ur belly,waking up at times, giggling if u tickle him,
them curling back and falling asleep.
Sigh.Perfect life after a very hectic week.
Offlate my sister has decided to take up things in her own hand.
Till i land up in cal dad cant show me so called resumes of eligible
bachelors (not that it stops him from going and talking to some
parents).suddenly the entire sinha and probably part mitra (mums side)
of the family discovered a new hobby.
so she went ahead and posted stuff on online marriage sites.
today when jiju finally woke up (hes a late waker)and left the
bedroom(the comp is there) she dragged me in and logged onto two
sites.
And while i was propped on the bed, nicely relaxed,with my new cook
book open on my lap, yapping abt boys men food her hair etc etc
(anything that came in my mind) she was sitting at the edge of her
seat, very tense, snapping at me and barking orders like " Moo, please
shut up" / "do you like this one, bata aagey baat
badhau ki nai".
quite interesting.
I should be shitting bricks cos god, the thought of even meeting a guy is like
"WHOA!!!!, easy...hold on, thamba thamba,wheres the fire, whats the hurry, marry ...me?????????????? "
but here we have me half asleep, drugged with a heavy breakfast,
snuggling cosily in her blanket and she, the poor elder sister freaked
out,"what if this one turns out to be a jerk".
if my sis has her way she would not let me get married at all.
and would also pack me away with some boy right now.
shes confused.
Poor thing has a lot of pressure on her head. :D
Cant tell what a suprememly loving scene it was.
my poor sis was getting cramps in her tummy out of nervousness.
Then i decided to not make things so diff for her.
Chal for entertainment value lets disect each appli :D
but ooops, didi had already picked her favourites.if i happened to
make fun of any guy she had remotely thought to be prince charming, id get the chinky look right away.
anyways, finally we sifted thorugh all the stuff and i think i did
decent, almost all the candidates got shot down.
good fun.
yawn.
decent entertainment.
some guys had fancy shmancy ids like "lets meet" which obviously flaunted their
below avg taste in life.i mean cmmon, u cant post a snap which can
pass of a snap with poses which can also be added to ur modeling
portfolio, and expect to be taken seriously.any self respecting man
would have rather die than do that to himself.
Then flaunting ur dads from iit and blah blah blah and then stating
ur from abc college...does not reflect well on u.i mean i wouldn be
marrying ur dad, so couldn care less what he was.
next was, "i want someone who would accept me for what i am" (errr,
excuse me!! )
and "im really cool " (excellent, garmi me ac nahi chahiye hoga)
my sis kept advising, "must know how to cook, very very important" .
and just when i was actually begining to enjoy this
( lets face it,the only time in ur life u get to judge other people
and no one blames u for it :D )my sis pips in, we need to subscribe to
so and so website,lets get a 1 year subscription.
screeech!!!!!!!!!!
my car braked hard. (dunno which model, u can immagine a really jazzy
black sleek girly one...umm scorpion is too manly warna it would have
sufficed)
errr, u mean we actually talk to these ppl.
"haan haan, Moo what were u thinking, why do u think tujhe dikha
rahi hoon.plus these things take a long time" says my super gyani sis.
ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
boys.
i dont like boys.
come again, why are we doing this???
"u have to get married some day ".
but aint someday really far away??
"oh man. make my life easier.mum has said no muslim,no christian.anyone else would do"
what abt a jew?? (heh heh, im reeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaally smart)
"parents have to be in cal"------------------>ma's criteria
"but if the boy is also settled in cal then forget abt it" -------->didis criteria
By then my bladder has had it.All the fruit juices and milkshakes have finished the entire tour of my digestive system, knocking impatently to be let free.
Di, i need to pee.seriously.
my sis looks at me disgusted.
"show some enthu man.fine get lost.
go and play with ur nephew.
just cos im the elder one i m made to do all the dirty work."
perfecto.
with my absolute indifference i buy myself trouble free two more weeks.
maybe i should put up a "i dont even want to discuss getting
married cos it freaks me out" sign on my forehead every time i meet my
near and dear family.
lazy sunday morning.
wake up late , laze on the sofa with ur half asleep nephew lying half
across ur belly,waking up at times, giggling if u tickle him,
them curling back and falling asleep.
Sigh.Perfect life after a very hectic week.
Offlate my sister has decided to take up things in her own hand.
Till i land up in cal dad cant show me so called resumes of eligible
bachelors (not that it stops him from going and talking to some
parents).suddenly the entire sinha and probably part mitra (mums side)
of the family discovered a new hobby.
so she went ahead and posted stuff on online marriage sites.
today when jiju finally woke up (hes a late waker)and left the
bedroom(the comp is there) she dragged me in and logged onto two
sites.
And while i was propped on the bed, nicely relaxed,with my new cook
book open on my lap, yapping abt boys men food her hair etc etc
(anything that came in my mind) she was sitting at the edge of her
seat, very tense, snapping at me and barking orders like " Moo, please
shut up" / "do you like this one, bata aagey baat
badhau ki nai".
quite interesting.
I should be shitting bricks cos god, the thought of even meeting a guy is like
"WHOA!!!!, easy...hold on, thamba thamba,wheres the fire, whats the hurry, marry ...me?????????????? "
but here we have me half asleep, drugged with a heavy breakfast,
snuggling cosily in her blanket and she, the poor elder sister freaked
out,"what if this one turns out to be a jerk".
if my sis has her way she would not let me get married at all.
and would also pack me away with some boy right now.
shes confused.
Poor thing has a lot of pressure on her head. :D
Cant tell what a suprememly loving scene it was.
my poor sis was getting cramps in her tummy out of nervousness.
Then i decided to not make things so diff for her.
Chal for entertainment value lets disect each appli :D
but ooops, didi had already picked her favourites.if i happened to
make fun of any guy she had remotely thought to be prince charming, id get the chinky look right away.
anyways, finally we sifted thorugh all the stuff and i think i did
decent, almost all the candidates got shot down.
good fun.
yawn.
decent entertainment.
some guys had fancy shmancy ids like "lets meet" which obviously flaunted their
below avg taste in life.i mean cmmon, u cant post a snap which can
pass of a snap with poses which can also be added to ur modeling
portfolio, and expect to be taken seriously.any self respecting man
would have rather die than do that to himself.
Then flaunting ur dads from iit and blah blah blah and then stating
ur from abc college...does not reflect well on u.i mean i wouldn be
marrying ur dad, so couldn care less what he was.
next was, "i want someone who would accept me for what i am" (errr,
excuse me!! )
and "im really cool " (excellent, garmi me ac nahi chahiye hoga)
my sis kept advising, "must know how to cook, very very important" .
and just when i was actually begining to enjoy this
( lets face it,the only time in ur life u get to judge other people
and no one blames u for it :D )my sis pips in, we need to subscribe to
so and so website,lets get a 1 year subscription.
screeech!!!!!!!!!!
my car braked hard. (dunno which model, u can immagine a really jazzy
black sleek girly one...umm scorpion is too manly warna it would have
sufficed)
errr, u mean we actually talk to these ppl.
"haan haan, Moo what were u thinking, why do u think tujhe dikha
rahi hoon.plus these things take a long time" says my super gyani sis.
ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
boys.
i dont like boys.
come again, why are we doing this???
"u have to get married some day ".
but aint someday really far away??
"oh man. make my life easier.mum has said no muslim,no christian.anyone else would do"
what abt a jew?? (heh heh, im reeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaally smart)
"parents have to be in cal"------------------>ma's criteria
"but if the boy is also settled in cal then forget abt it" -------->didis criteria
By then my bladder has had it.All the fruit juices and milkshakes have finished the entire tour of my digestive system, knocking impatently to be let free.
Di, i need to pee.seriously.
my sis looks at me disgusted.
"show some enthu man.fine get lost.
go and play with ur nephew.
just cos im the elder one i m made to do all the dirty work."
perfecto.
with my absolute indifference i buy myself trouble free two more weeks.
maybe i should put up a "i dont even want to discuss getting
married cos it freaks me out" sign on my forehead every time i meet my
near and dear family.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
sketch marathons
i must keep art away from my life.
its absolutely essential.
i get terribly moody and cannot focus on my work at office, my mind starts perpetually wandering.
One fine thursday morning I accidenlty stumble across a site, and all hell breaks loose.
Now the entire day I havent been able to focus on anything im supposed to.Am in a totally different mental plane, visions of the animations and graphics haunting me.its like a totally different world, where ur immagination needs nor knows no bound.and there is no stopping to how you express yourself.its like im witnessing a collective pool of human emotions.
I cant even put my feelings in words.and its not entirely cos of my poor writing skills.
One mans passion turns into a cult following across the entire globe.
Man i love it !!!
Enrico is an artist.And he decides to spend a day roaming around the town, documenting everything he sees.In watercolour.Then and there. On the spot.
So he participates in this solo marathon where he spends an entire day just painting , nonstop.In the coffee house, in the bus,outside a book store.
He paints his coffee cup, fellow coffee drinkers, people in the bus, the roads, the buildings, his watch when he checks the time to call quits.
And thus the humble beginings of 'sketchcrawl'.
Next he gathers artists and they have a group marathon.
November 21st has now officially become the WorldWide marathon day of drawing or The Sketchcrawl Day.
And just when i thought I couldnt be more in awe of this guy, ....he works at pixar.
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