Why the Kindle v/s Physical Book is a non-existent debate

(Friendly warning: This blog is penned to encourage a healthy exchange of opinions. Comments of the 'You're-an-idiot-because-you-can't-afford-a-Kindle' kind will not be tolerated. Leave comments that convince me that you've a brain and we can take it from there. Feel free to oppose my point-of-view. I'll like you a lot more if you don't, though. Cheers.)

I'm a stubborn little twit when it comes to certain things. And when I'm completely convinced that my point of view is THE only possible point-of-view, I refuse to see sense. Very cow-like I know. But what to do?

Which is why, I absolutely don't get this whole Kindle v/s Physical Book debate that people are having these days. I mean, what's there to debate about? It's like debating whether walking is better than hailing a cab, or whether sex without a condom is better than sex with one on (don't ask me what's better. I don't know). But the debates ARE pointless. Get what I mean?

And if you don't already know which side of the debate I am on, you're a douche bag.

How can anything, anything remotely substitute the feel of a book? However new, shiny and filled-to-the-brim with orgasmic features your bloody Kindle is. Come to think of it, my bone of contention is just that. Having a book that does stuff it isn't supposed to do in the first place. I'm sorry I'm old-fashioned, but I don't think I want my book to automatically turn pages at the click of a button. And no, I don't want to be able to stick a headphone into it, so that it doubles up as an audio-book. If I want an audio-book, I'll get it myself, thanks.

I don't want to be able to download my book. I want to be able to buy it. Smell it. Lovingly run my finger along its binding. Cringe when the cover gets dog-eared. Get pissed if someone folds a page instead of get a bloody bookmark.

Call me pseudo, call me a weirdo, but I think visiting a bookshop is an integral part of my life. The feeling of wanting to buy the whole bookstore (except where the Twilight series is stocked, thank you very much. I'm still trying to con someone into taking my copies), the sheer delight at holding a book I've been wanting to buy for the longest time, sifting through rows and rows of books, sitting down on the pouffe at leisure and reading a big chunk off a random book, the feeling of curling up under the quilt on a rainy day with a great book, there's so much more to a physical book than it being a mere book. Geddit?

So then, how are you going to get all of this with a Kindle?

Sure. It holds like a few thousand books. It turns pages at a click. It runs on batteries. It cuts down on all the space you'd need for your books, the pros are endless. But are they really pros?

Firstly, do you need thousand odd books on you at all times? How many books can one human being read at one go? Five, if you stretch your imagination to snapping limits?

Secondly, who the eff needs pages that turn at a click? How much effort does it take to turn a freakin' page? So what if an actual book needs both your hands? What are you going to do with your other hand when you're reading anyway? (Hmm...A Kindle may be useful when you're reading erotica, but that's the only advantage I can see as far as the use of one hand is concerned.)

Next, the whole concept of battery-operated books is so unnatural. Like a baby born with a complete set of pearlies and painted toe-nails. It's against the law of nature, that's what's wrong!

And that brings me to the biggest pro-Kindle argument that fans have: It saves you space that books will take up.

This leaves me most flummoxed. But that may be because I don't see books as a waste of space. They're an integral part of my house. Like sofas. Or the dining table. So, my family takes up space in my house. That does NOT mean I will replace them with robots now, will I, just because robots can keep my house clean and do my dishes with utmost precision?

And how can something that's important to you be considered a waste? Our clothes and shoes probably take up more space than is considered normal, but we don't stop buying them, do we? Neither have we come up with electronic, space-saving alternatives to clothes, as far as I know.

So if you haven't got it already, the point I'm trying to make is, that in my opinion, you will somehow accommodate things that are important to you, without looking for easier alternatives.

Sure, you can download a book from an e-book website, but what can be more fun than waiting outside a bookstore hours before a much-anticipated book is going to be released? Or going and picking up a pre-ordered book from the shop?

If you're a true-blue book lover, you won't really mind the space crunch and the other 'inconveniences'.

It's like having a baby. It poops, it cries at midnight and can't even distinguish its teeth from its nose. But heck, it's still perfect!

What is it about loneliness?

What is it about loneliness, that the best of us fear so much?

Is it the fear of waking up alone?

Or the possibility of having no one to talk to in the middle of a tearful night?

Why does it hurt to have no one to call your own?

So you've convinced yourself that you love living with your pet. Freedom and all that. Then why does the sight of your neighbour hand-in-hand with his wife bother you?

What is it that frightens you most about loneliness?

A lonely birthday? A solitary Christmas eve?

No friends to haul you out of an accident?

A call that will never come, despite waiting for it all night?

No shoulder to vent into? No one to wipe the tears?

No one to take a long walk on the beach with? To appreciate the wind in your hair?

Are you amidst a crowd, yet lonely?

Looking for a face that you call familiar? Is it the absence of that face what's bothering you?

Ah, I see what's troubling you.

The need of a hug, the want of a kiss, the pain of love.

Tis Christmas, gentle folks! *Hic*

...and so we’ve reached the end of another eventful year. Almost.

I know you’re going to hate me for saying this, but honestly, 2009 wasn’t a bitch to me at all. In fact, it was one of the nicest years of my life. Any year you didn’t lose someone you know to a terror attack, a flood, a morning walk stabbing session or a reality show has to be great, right? Oh and neither did I get a pink slip (does a white petticoat count?), a pay cut or the lack of an increment.

2009 was the year that’s helped me become the person I am. And I’m sorry if this is coming across as a egotistical post, but I’m not sure I care what you think. So let’s talk some more about me.

The year that’s almost over helped me learn a lot. It made me wiser as a person, brought new friends into my life, helped enrich bonds with the old ones, took me travelling to Delhi and Trivandrum, taught me how to write better, made me realise I’d die without Twitter, taught me to love and be loved and got me new high-heeled shoes.

You really can’t grudge a year like that.

And hence, dear 2009, you shall be missed. But absolutely not if 2010 gets me a 200% hike in my salary.

Now now, what’s with the hurry to shut the Firefox window? You really didn’t think I’d let you read all through without listing out my New Year resolutions now, would you? Come now, I will take you through all the false promises I am making to myself, simply because I can then prove to thee how terribly bad I am at commitment.

1) 1) I will travel more this year. In fact, I will save up some cash every three four months and travel to a city I haven’t been to. Alone, if the parents can’t make it. But travel I will.

2) 2) This year, I will click more photographs. I have begun to love the amazing feeling that a well-taken photograph brings. I believe I have come a long way this year on the photography front too, since I’ve stopped chopping off people heads and arms and am including their entire body in the frame.

3) 3) I will cut down on junk food. The expanding waistline is threatening to pop out of my jeans. While we’re on the subject, I have no pretences about being regular to the gym. Ever again.

4) 4) And I WILL write more this year. Seriously. The sorry amount of times I’ve updated my blog freaks me out. How can I person with an opinion on every damned thing not have anything to say on the blog? Also note that I will comment on my friends’ blogs more often. Only then can I resolutely bully them to comment on mine.

5) 5) I will read more. Although I can’t say I wasn’t satisfied with the number of books I bought the last year.

6) 6) I will go out there and meet newer people. 2010 is going to make me a social butterfly. Spare me the air-kissing, though. Try that and I’ll spit on you.

7) 7) I will learn more gaalis. This is absolutely necessary since auto and taxi drivers are striving hard to make me miserable every day.

8) 8) I will write more on paper than this electronic nonsense. Will also buy more lovely stationery. Please note: amazing stationery does to me, what sexy lingerie does to men. I is a geek.

9) 9) I will stick up for myself more often. 2010 will bring out the no-nonsense side of me, both at the professional front and in personal life. But I promise to be my nice self at most times.

10) 10) I will not work the terribly long working hours I do right now, unless I have to. I will stop faffing around through the day only to sit till 8.30 every evening.

11) 11) I’m going to cry less and make more people cry. I’m so serious about this. Bwahahahaha!

12) 12) I will stalk fewer people on Facebook. I need to realise that looking at completely retarded photographs of fucktards isn’t right, especially when it’s 7 p.m. in the evening and I should be leaving for home.

13) 13) This year, I will stick to my New Year resolutions.

I’m sure I’ve missed out a few. But then, if I didn’t think of them when I should have, they’re probably the important ones I SHOULD miss.

So go on then, what are you planning for 2010? You know where the comments section is. Use it!

When staying awake becomes a serious problem...

I wrote this entry while I was in Kerala on a junket, recently. Thought I'd reproduce it on my blog.

Conferences / seminars are always so interesting...NOT. I'm here on a perfectly lovely Wednesday morning in Trivandrum, trying to keep my eyes open in a workshop,that doesn't remotely concern me. Why am I here, then? Don't ask me, ask the PR person who invited me. In my defense, however, I'm doing a perfectly convincing act of taking down long-winded notes. So is everyone else. It's impossible to stay awake through this endless droning.

Why are Indian speakers (very broadly speaking) so terrible at addressing audiences? Why is it that they cannot keep up their audiences' attention for more than three minutes? Most people begin with reading out reams and reams of literature, hoping it will make up for the lack of enthusiasm on their part. And as if reading out volumes of text isn't bad enough, there is the variety that will support the endless droning with slides and slides data.

For instance, "In 1994, our organisation had achieved only 34% growth,which jumped to 61% in 2001. However, we weren't satisfied with this growth percentage, hence, our target for the next five years is to achieve at least 54.7% growth."

Excuse me, but all I heard was "Blah, blah, yak, yak". What's your point? Did anyone tell you, mister,that no one cares a rat's ass about your data? Can you stick to whole words and less numbers unless absolutely necessary?

There's a third type of speaker one often sees: the nervous type. This type is so obviously pissing its lacy panties, that they even have no idea what they end up blabbering about. Add to that, they even mess up their technology and end up displaying the wrong slides to the wrong headings.

When will people learn that seeming effortless and well-prepared with your material is the key?

As a favour to the world, I'm taking the responsibility on mine young shoulders to enlighten the public speakers of the future, with a few home-truths:

1) Make your session interactive. Ask your audience some trivia related to your topic, perhaps? It helps them keep awake and interested.

2) Talk to audience. Maintain eye contact. This helps them know that you're talking to them and not at them.

3) Do NOT read aloud, whatever you do. If reading out is all you're going to do, just hand over your literature to your audience and let them read it. It might be more interesting, anyway.

4) Cite as many examples as you can to support the point you're trying to make. Or ask the audience to come up with some. Examples help retain your proposition better, in the minds of the audiences.

5) Keep it simple, stupid! Avoid too much technical jargon unless absolutely vital. It is one of the reasons why your talk becomes a snoozefest.

6) Try reducing your talk to a maximum time limit of about 20 minutes to half an hour. Trust me, attention tends to wander beyond that. So unless you know that your presentation is going to receive nothing short of a standing ovation, don't drone on and on. And yeah, if you look like Bradley Cooper, you can talk for as long as you want!

7) Lastly, inviting your audience to be a part of your presentation is most important. No one likes listening to someone who loves the sound of his own voice. Believe that your presentation must get the attention it deserves. Once that is achieved, you have to take the effort to make people want to listen to you. It sure will take a lot of hard work from your side, but then, who said it was easy?

Whew. I'm done with all my gyaan, folks. Now, back to the very lovely speakers who are carefully disobeying my carefully put together advice!

Blonde moment of the week...

So yeah. I'd gone through the week without any blonde moments hurled my way (not important enough to write about, anyway), when I decided my week would be incomplete without at least one such moment.

I was at a Rich Media workshop yesterday, and it was a lot more fun than I expected. Well, some of the speakers were crashingly boring (is it me, or can't most Indian speakers hold up their audiences' attention for more than three minutes?!), but the two or three that were interesting, made the trip worth it.

One of the interesting speakers was a senior Indian guy from advertising (let's call him Apple Junkie), who sort of has a reputation to be a bore. I'd never heard him speak before, so I believed what my friends had to say.

To my surprise, Apple Junkie's session was nothing short of fabulous. He was funny, goofy, intelligent, witty and very knowledgeable, all at the same time. Everyone loved him. So throughout the workshop, I was steadily tweeting about the sessions (less in the interesting ones, a LOT during the boredom inducing ones).

After Apple Junkie's session, my tweet said exactly this (and I'm NOT proud of it):

"Apple Junkie was superb. I'm glad I came."

To which the Overated Outcast almost instantaneously replies:

"I'm sure Apple Junkie is glad you came too. (Sorry couldn't resist that)."

Seriously, could I be anymore stupid?!

P.S. You know where the comments section is. What's been your best blonde moment of late?

P.P.S (Shameless plug alert) Follow me on Twitter at www.twitter.com/eyemanut87

You know life's good when...

1) Your boss is nice enough to convince you to stay back although you've quit. And not just because he particularly needs you, but because he cares enough to convince you that you're making a bad career move.

2) When you join work again and almost half the office thumps you on the back with sheer happiness.

3) You feel good about going to work, because suddenly everything seems sunshine-y.

4) You have enough money to buy your mum a washing machine, on a whim, without calculating your budgets.

5) You really love meeting old friends, who in turn, seem absolutely happy in catching up with you.

6) You are in touch with the first guy friend you ever made, and love how he's turned into this really awesome, witty, funny person.

7) You have the power to make Manchester United lose by going on saying that they will, just to spite your best friend and cousin (read: Lammy and Rohit). Hee hee. This is fun especially since you don't even care two hoots about what happens to the future of football.

8) People tell you, you write well. (Ok ok, that may not be true, but a little flattery never hurt anyone!)

9) One of your closest friends is almost getting a job she's really been wanting. With AWESOME money too.

10) Your haircut (courtesy Mikachu) looks lovely and you begin to feel like the diva that you've wanted to be. :P (Shameless plug: I'm not saying this because she's my best friend, but she's a REALLY fabulous hair dresser. You should totally get your cut from her sometime. Just go to Bandra, Mad-o-wot). :)

11) When you've read the entire Harry Potter series, for the 8th time (excluding book seven).

12) When you're up at 12 in the night, wanting to make a list of all the things that make you happy.

* big, happy smile* :D

I love you, world!

Happy Diwali and other rambles

Hello, kind readers and Happy Diwali! Since I get supremely bugged with the long-winded "Happy Diwali and have a crappy new year full of prosperity'' kind of messages, do know that I mean the best for you. Just don't make me say it. :P

On a not-so-side not, this year's 'Foot-in-Mouth' Award goes to me. Why? Because I was a part of the following conversation:

The cleaning lady from the gym (called Mavshi) saw me in the gym after quite a hiatus. She stopped by for a chat, reproduced below:

Me: Hello Mavshi, how's you?
Mavshi: Fine. Long time no see!?
Me: Arey haan. No time. So Diwali preparations in full swing?
Mavshi: You know I won't be able to this year, since I lost my son five months ago.

After looking suitably ashamed of self (but horrified in the inner depths of my mind), I wondered why, at such time, the earth doesn't open up and swallow me up whole. Alternatively, someone gagging me with a wet, smelly sock at the precise moment wouldn't be such a bad thing, either.

If God was sitting up there and distributing traits at the time of my birth, I'd like to have acquired some proficiency in knitting sweaters or gardening or making paper hats or something. Why such copious amounts of skills in asking a woman who has lost her son (and knowing about her loss) whether she's going to be partying hard this season?

It's like asking a student who's failed his exams if he's bought his text books for next year.

Why do I do this? The fact that it was unintentional is no excuse.

In fact, I have no excuse.

Sorry, Mavshi. I really am. But I sincerely hope you have a good Diwali. Wherever your son is, I know he will want you to. You owe this to yourself...

The Travails of the Traveler

Yoo hoo! I'm back from Delhi. I know I should have blogged about it ages ago, but what to do? I'm uber lazy. To describe the trip in a sentence, I'd say it was fabulously rejuvenating and fun.

Met up with loads of people I've been wanting to meet for the longest time - Sakshi, Shayon, Arushi and Phoenix, being some of them (actually that is the complete list, but I don't want to sound like a loser). I wish I'd seen a lot more of the places in Delhi, though. Whatever people may say, I strongly believe that our country is host to some of the most picturesque spots in the world, but it's disheartening how we still choose to hold ambitions of going abroad and gawking at the Leaning Bloody Tower of Pisa, while so many of us haven't even been to the Qutub Minar.

I went and visited a lot of these street shopping places though - Kamala Market, Sarojini Nagar and Janpath and bought loads of stuff of the streets. I have no qualms in saying that Colaba Causeway has more order to the chaos and that given half a chance, I'd go to Colaba a 100 times.

See this picture up there? That's Chandni Chowk. And that's all I'm going to say about the place, since nothing I say about it will justify the madness, the crowd and the utter craziness that is Chandni Chowk.

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritties of the trip; I'd only make the whole thing sinfully boring. Suffice to say it was just the break I needed; I needed to get away from this city, meet new people and come back feeling like a daisy.

Now for all ye faithful readers, some photos.

The annoying wish-fulfilling pillar from Cheeni Kum.
The fabulously towering Qutub Minar...

That's our bloody government ripping off them poor foreigners. So that they can pay for us to scribble about our sordid love affairs all over the walls...


For more pics, go clicketty click here. No, you won't find any pics of me anywhere, in case you wanted to. :P

Didn't know drifting away from you was an option....

My dear, dear friend

I am on a holiday in Delhi, like you so very well know. I'm having a whale of a time here, staying at a friend's house with her lovely family, roaming around Delhi when the city's at its best, eating the best food, blowing a lot of money and doing exactly everything that I should be doing to enjoy my holiday.

And yet, I'm making the time to sit here and blog. About you. Knowing myself, I wouldn't do that in normal circumstances. Why would I, when everything was going fabulously well here, and I could just blog about everything at one go when I return home? But nevertheless, I am here. Writing. About you.

Friend, I'm depressed. And I'm disappointed. I thought we were the kind of friends who'd never grow apart. The kind who, even if we didn't speak to each other for over several months, would always pick up from where we left off and still feel completely in sync with each other. As far as I know, we were always around for each other, for happy times and sad times, for silly reasons and funny memories. Midnight conversations were a staple. We'd speak to each other till the wee hours of the morning so many times. You were just the kind of friend who I thought was a security blanket. Whatever happened, I'd always have you to talk to. Or so I thought.

What's changed, then? Distance? If that was the case, we wouldn't be friends in the first place, right? Infrequent conversations? Well, it wasn't like we couldn't live without talking to each other. Is there someone who's taken my place? Hmm. Didn't think I was so easily replaceable.

Why don't I know you anymore? Why am I one of the general crowds who gets to know about you, through tweets or Facebook status messages or blog posts, instead of receiving a call about what's up with you, like was customary? Why don't I receive a text message anymore, whenever you update your blog after months? Instead, I only find out if you see me online and decide to ping me. Perhaps it's the restraints of a new job...but then, I know for a fact that your social life is otherwise completely active in all its glory.

So am I to take it that you've got a problem with me?

Why did you seem so reluctant to meet me, when I was in your city? Were you that busy that it was difficult for you to return a call? Or to find out how my vacation was going? Or was it just that you were partying really hard with other more interesting friends? I wonder if it was too much trouble making you come all the way even once. Sorry if it was.

I'm not washing my dirty linen in public here, you know me better than that. I'm just trying to find out what has gone wrong over just a few months. I'm not demanding an explanation from you either. I don't really know why I'm doing this. Perhaps because writing is the only thing that can make me feel better about this.

Forgive me if I sound like a lovesick, heartbroken wuss here. I'm not in love with you. Not the romantic kind, anyway.

I just thought, that after all the stuff that we've shared with each other, or rather, I've shared with you, you'd be the last person making me write this post. What hurts most is that, while our friendship definitely hasn't soured, you've become completely indifferent to my existence. I'm still coming to terms with that, but it will take time.

Thanks for meeting up with me over this small break. I don't know what to expect from you from our meet, but one thing is for sure. I definitely didn't expect to see a completely new person in front of me.

Again, no explanations required. Maybe someday I'll see the light.

And maybe next time, I won't take a holiday from work to spend the day with you, like I did the last time.

A hurriedly scribbled post

Like the title says, this is a very hurried post. Your blog post would be hurried too, if some last minute packing was to be done, dinner was to be eaten, bedroom was to be made to look like human habitat and less like earthquake site and songs to be put into iPod. All this amidst mum popping in from the kitchen every 10 minutes like a cuckoo and saying ,"Will you get off the computer and FINISH the stuff you have to do?"

Yeah. In a minute.

Anyway, quick update about my life, in bullet form because that's all I have time for:

1) I'm alive, and well.
2) I've quit my job (officially), but my boss is calling it 'indefinite leave'. I don't know what to call my sabbatical yet. Will decide when I'm back from my chhuti.
3) I'm off to Delhi tomorrow, speaking of chhutis, for a mini-break of five days. I'm going to be putting up at Sakshi's place. More about that when I return. Plus if you're lucky, you'll get pictures.
4) I have this lingering feeling like I've forgotten to pack something important. But I have certainly packed the chuddies, toothbrush, tickets and money, so I think I can survive without the other stuff.
5) I am officially broke now. Please contribute heavily to my 'Let's support Moo in the time of need' fund. I accept cash, cheques, gift vouchers, demand drafts and sodexho coupons.
6) I will sorely miss Mum, Dad, Sheroo, Snowy and Lammy throughout my trip. So used to talking to them every, single day. I'm such a wuss.

And now that's all you're getting. Detailed posts about life in general later. Leave me comments and be good.

Ciao!

Now I know my ABC...

It's 4.30 am, I'm in office closing a really big issue, with miraculous bits of time in between where I don't know what to do with myself. I'm trying to ignore the steady throbbing in my temples, but it won't go away.

I'm amusing myself by doing this tag. I will tag precisely four people. If you don't take up the tag, I will haunt you forever. (I'm going to die of exhaustion in precisely twenty minutes).

Apparently, this tag is called the ABC Tag. Picked it up from Sakshi Pie's blog. The questions begin from A-Z. Hence the name (how original). Here I go.

1) A – Available/Single?
Available for a coffee if you're in town.

2) B – Best friend?
Mika. Lammy. Smallie. Gakash. Ro. Chicken Little. Zander.

3) C – Cake or Pie?
Cake, I think. Gulab Jamun, if you're taking orders.

4) D – Drink of choice?
Cranberry breezer. :P Not for the alcohol, purely for the taste. Arey, somebody believe me!

5) E – Essential item you use every day?
Chuddies. Pen. Handbag. Wallet.

6) F – Favorite colour?
Deep blue. White. Black.

7) G – Gummy Bears Or Worms?
What sort of a freakshow question is this?

8) H – Hometown?
Moo-mbai!

9) I – Indulgence?
Original Sin donuts from Mad Over Donuts. They turn you on.

10) J – January or February?
Rumpelstiltskin

11) K – Kids & their names?
Oh. This is easy. Hiryanyakashapoo and Ghatotkhach. Poo and Gatty, in short.

12) L – Life is incomplete without?
Being cuddled to death by the ones who I love being cuddled by.

13) M – Marriage date?
On the day I take a casual leave

14) N – Name? Your real name!!
Moo. That's all YOU need to know.

15) O – Oranges or Apples?
Oranges, I guess. How does it matter, again?

16) P – Phobias/Fears?
Crossing the road. Used to be escalators once upon a time. In fact I have a whole post about everything that frightens me.

17) Q – Quote for today?
Ek din mar jayega, kutte ki maut,
Ghar wale kahenge, mar gaya madarc**t!

18) R – Reason to smile?
Hot soup after a tiring day. :)

19) S – Season?
Mumbai winter

20) T – Tag 3 People?
The White Phoenix, Doubledrats, Sreejit

21) U – Unknown fact about me?
I love giving nicknames

22) V – Vegetable you don’t like?
Tinda

23) W – Worst habit?
Worst time manager

24) X – X-rays?
Loads of times.

25) Y – Your favorite food?
Cauliflower sabzi made by ma, beef cooked by Lammy

26) Z – Zodiac sign?
The hottest sign of the Zodiac - Aries. :D

Away from peeping eyes...

They walked into her building, hand in hand.

"Look at those two," said a neighbour to another, "Always walking in and out at any time they like. No decency or shame..."

"God knows what they do up there for so many hours. Girls these days..." said the other neighbour.

Ignoring the women's jibes and taunts, they trudged on at their own pace and entered the lift.

They entered her apartment. The very next minute, she collapsed on the sofa, tired.

"Wait, I'll make you some coffee, princess. You rest for a bit," he said.

"Thanks darling. I love you," she smiled through her headache.

10 minutes later, she sat up drinking her piping hot cuppa Joe. He took her cup to the sink and washed it, while she sat wondering what she'd done to deserve him.

"Sweetheart," he said, holding her closely in his arms, "I really think I shouldn't be coming here too often. The nasty women from your building say and think really sick things about us."

"Like what?" she asked.

"You know like what," he said.

"Tell me... Like what?" she persisted.

"You know, like we're humping each other the second we walk in through that door. It's sickening, how their minds work. Almost makes you want to shower," he vented.

"Who cares what they think?" she asked.

"I do. There's no reason they should worry so much about our sex lives or whether or not we have one. Doesn't their peskiness affect you one bit?"

"Not really."

"What? How come?"

"Because every moment I spend in peace with you here, in complete privacy, away from peeping eyes is worth every taunt, every jibe."

"I know, baby. But..."

"I don't care if they think we're making love out of sin. For me, that cup of coffee you make me is as sacred as making love to you. Every caress is as special. Do you think I care about nosey women from my building, when you're holding me tight and saying lovely things in my ear?"

"You know what?" he asked.

"What?" she said.

"I love you more than my life."

Train timepass

Recently caught up with Chicken Little, when she hopped into a train at Mahalaxmi and I, at Lower Parel. She and I have been the best of friends since 7th grade ("Don't count the number of years we've been friends", she always whines. "We always end up fighting when you do!" Kindly ignore and pliss to dismiss as chicken banter. :P)

Anyway, as is usual with her, she was being her random self when she pointed out to this:


"Mooey, I don't know about you, but the picture of those kids on the left seems really, really wrong. What kind of a workshop do you think it is?" she asked.

I laughed heartily at that and then wondered: Seriously, what are those kids doing? And what's with that other kid stretching his legs till his pants are about to split at the seams?

Something shady's happening. Pliss to investigate, someone. I'm going and having my dinner.

In conversation with myself

How wrong is it, to want to be a different person sometimes? To put away all those ideas of being yourself and people loving you just as you are? To be able to take a vacation from doing all the things people expect you to do, the things that you expect yourself to do, even?

Life is a funny thing. You spend so much time trying to shape it to the way you want it to be, but then when you do get there, you realise it isn't as glamorous as you wanted it to be.

I've wanted to live my life the way I do, since 7th grade. I'd dreamed of going to work, having a decent paycheck being dropped into my hands every month, having a boss everyone would kill to have, lovely parents who don't trouble me when I come home from work at unearthly hours, friends who care when I'm upset. Heck, most people aren't even fortunate enough to get to do what they like. I have everything; it would seem like the most perfect life anyone would want to live.

Then why is there a gnawing feel of something being incomplete? I don't expect my life to reach fulfillment at 22, but there's this feeling somewhere deep within, that this is not what I wanted to do, after all.

There are so many unresolved issues in my head that I can't talk about. Not to the ones closest to me anyway.

Maybe I'll just marry rich and buy Jimmy Choo(tiya) all day.

Computer games / TV > Books? Sad...

Overheard at Crossword bookstore by yours truly:

"Beta, why do you want to waste money buying books, when I'm buying you a nice computer game?"

Jai ho!

It really is Kalyug, isn't it?

If this generation of parents is actually going to discourage a child who wants to buy books (a rare species in the first place), what hope is left for Mother Earth?

Everywhere we go, we'll find six-year-old children donning soda-bottle glasses, discussing the way they pulled some enemy's intestines out (complete with squelchy sounds, mind you) with an AK47 that's purple and turquoise in colour in some morbidly named game. They'll also know how many women Vinod Kambli slept with before and after marrying the bimbette of his wife (courtesy: Sach ka Saamna). However, not one will have read or even heard of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' or 'Alice in Wonderland'.

It's so completely sad to see hoardes of people hovering around the CD-ROM / DVD / VCD collections at bookstores, but not many takers for books. Plus, out of the six and a half people that are amidst books, four and three quarters will be hovering around Chetan Bhagat and fervently flipping through the pages of his...ahem...profound literature.

Where are the readers? Not to say that I know every book there is and I read as much as I'd like to, but I try. I really do. I try spending my spare time either reading or writing, although it's not always possible. But I think my mother will have no qualms in slicing my neck with a blunt knife if I watch too much television (in fact, no one in my house watches television!) or keep playing games on the computer and don't read. My mother bees weird like that.

What is the world coming to? Or am I too old for it? I'm chewing on that and perhaps, so should you.

And lastly, before I go, I leave you with one of my favourite Roald Dahl poems.

Television

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

So absolutely true, innit? Whaddaya think? Moo back at me in the comments section and let me know. :)

You've got to have a bunch of potatoes for eyes, if you haven't noticed the new interiors my blog is sporting. Almost 90% of the people I know have genuinely liked it (they'd better), while the others have nodded politely and played along.

But hey, what's not to like? There's an awfully cuddly cow and there's lot of greenery. Now you have to admit. Don't you feel like reaching out snuggling the cow? Come on, ADMIT!

And how can I not thank dear Gakash for this new look? He made the template in 30 minutes flat! He accepts orders too. I take 80% commission on every new template he creates. And no, you cannot approach him on the sly. Rascals.

Well, this was a quick post to tell you I'm around and not dead (yet). Will update real soon! :)

Toodle-oo!

Chewing the cud....

I read a beautiful quote in this book I'm reading - The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. I'm normally not the first person to remember and harp on about quotes, but something about this quote touched me somewhere deep inside.

It's attributed to Draupadi, from whose eyes this book describes The Mahabharata. She's an extremely strong woman with a point of view. Perhaps what charms me most about her, is that she's very human, very like any of us. Someone with her own grouses and expectations. Self-centred, manipulative, proud and refusing to be treated as an object by the men around her, she's someone we might encounter in our everyday lives. She's bold and she's attractive. That's how I like my women characters!

There's a situation in the book, where she is being told the Nala Damayanti story. And although she doesn't show that she isn't convinced with Damayanti's way of proving her undying love for her husband, she questions herself with:

At what point does forbearance cease to become a virtue and becomes a weakness?

This is something I've asked myself quite a number of times, although not worded so beautifully. Those who know me really well, will know that I'm always in two minds about something. Not because I am afraid what the world will say, but because I know it will affect my loved ones' lives, someway or the other.

Don't most of us prefer to remain silent, so that the people who matter the most can remain happy? Don't we keep mum about certain things when we should have spoken up, preferring to let someone shoot an arrow through our hearts instead? Sometimes it may be for love, sometimes pure weakness.

Why else do we prefer to listen to colleagues sitting on our heads instead of showing them their place?

Why else do we prefer marrying people who we don't want to, if not to keep our parents happy?

Why do we continue working on jobs that we hate, except not to disappoint those around us?

Why do we doing things against our wishes, values, principles, if not for some weakness for someone who may or may not even matter?

If we look back at the times we've put forward someone else before us, we'd come up with a big number. I know I would. I've lived a happy, wholesome life so far...But there are those times that I wish I'd spoken up. The times I wish I'd kept only myself in mind and just my happiness. The times I knew I'd truly be happy had I not given someone else a thought.

I wonder why we bear so much. And seriously, when does that make us virtuous and when does it make us weak?

Quizzical

I feel a rant coming up. But I really really need to vent this out before I burst a vein somewhere in the inner depths of my brain.

I'm going to ask this aloud. ONCE. Clearly.

Why. Do. People. Take. Those. Weird. Facebook. Quizzes?

They pop up on my computer screen, they are in my face when I'm checking Facebook from my mobile AND I CAN'T GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT STUBBING MY EFFIN' TOE ON THEM.

Has this become the new national pastime? Is this what you're supposed to be doing to be an avid Facebooker? Have I become old? Or are people really leaking their brains out of their noses?

Every time I peek into Facebook, there is someone on my friends list (I so need new friends) who has undergone the process of introspection and taken some ridiculous quiz. And just when I begin to think that I've seen the most ludicrous ones there are (for instance, 'So-and-so has taken the 'How good are you as a person, and the result is 'Very Good Person!'), up comes something else more unbelievable (example would be: Ms. Good-for-nothing-couch-potato has just taken the 'how will you die?' quiz and the result is 'By the hands of someone who hates seeing fucking quiz results on her homepage!').

Is this the new fun? How is knowing how you're going to breathe your last or what the first letter of your secret lover's name is make a sodding difference to your life? LOSERS.

I won't be surprised to see the following results on my page soon (not that I'll be sorry to see these):

1) Your dead friend Fartface took the 'How will my husband kill me for dowry?' quiz and the result is 'By tickling her to death!'

2) My-brains-are-a-mangled-mess took the 'How gay am I?' quiz and the result is 'Gay enough to be taking quizzes on social networking sites!'

3) Your friend Worthless took the 'Which car suits me best?' quiz and the result is 'The one that successfully runs me over!'

4) Your friend Dumbfuck recently took the 'Who will you be happiest marrying?' quiz with the result 'Someone who keeps me off social networking sites for general welfare!'

Get out of my face, will you?

Just one word of advice to all ye quiztakers. Someone created the internet so that you could have fun with it. This is not fun. Not for humans anyway. And certainly not for your bloody friends.

And do whatever you will with Facebook. Just... CAN YOU KEEP THE DAMNED RESULTS OFF MY PAGE?

I'm terribly upset right now.

Upset, for being stupid enough not to have secured one thing in hand; instead chasing two uncertain ones.

Upset, because I know I tried my best.

Upset, because it wasn't my fault.

Upset, because I am to blame.

Upset, because I am still new at this.

Upset, because both things went bust, in spite of having the sense to have a back-up.

Upset, because life isn't fair at all. And the realisation sucks.

Upset, because I can't Ctrl+Z life.

Upset, because some people get away with doing nothing.

Upset, because that's all I can do.

:'(

If you think you're Shakespeare, please get away from my sight

Those who know me reasonably well, should also know that I hate pretence of any kind. People who spend half their life putting up an image for God knows whose benefit, physically tire me. Perhaps that's one of the primary reasons I'm sick to the teeth of all those folks who think they're born to be writers, especially the ones who think they were born mumbling Haikus or Sir Philip Sidney's sonnets. You see such species everywhere. At least I do. They burst into poetry like it's a spate of bad words or quote great authors like one would say 'How do you do?'

Ok, let's start at the beginning. Anyone is allowed to think they can write; it's a free country. But can these kind, gentle folks exercise their fundamental rights a little less vehemently?

Still don't get it? Let me explain.

Fine. So you think you can write. Congratulations. But can you not keep harping on and on about it, and try and keep it personal? So if you're still as thick in the head as I think you are, you can do the following and let me move on with my life:

1) Don't refer to your writing as if you're carrying Shakespeare's legacy forward. Which means you're not allowed to say things like, "I'm not inspired enough to update my blog" or "Like William Golding says, my writing is ". You should be clobbered and made to feel a little stupid, in case you're waiting for divine intervention to come up with a mere blog post. Next time, try laziness as an excuse. Far more believable.

2) Don't write idiotic, pseudo intellectual "poetry". It does nothing for your writing, except maybe make you sound batty in addition to demented. Also, don't try camouflaging utter rubbish under 'modern verse'. Doesn't fool anyone. Examples of said "poems" are:

I walked through the maze.
Looking for him.
Will he come? Will he go?
I laughed to myself and came out of the blinding light.

Sorry. But what are you even talking about? If this is poetry, then even I can come up with some:

I looked at the ice-cream shop, wistfully.
Ice-cream beckons, said the voices in my head,
I stared hard at the hamburger in my hand.
Who took a bite of it when I was wasting my time thinking of ice-creams?
Boy, I must really be stupid.
A blinding flash of light, sudden silence.
I had been standing in the middle of the highway.

See? It's that easy. One and a half minute is all it took, to come up with modern verse. And if I can do it, it's not art. Wake up from your reverie and get a job, please.

3) Don't ask for feedback as far as possible. Unless, you really are prepared to hear someone (me) say "I don't think this is making any sense." If you still do come and ask for an impartial critique of your piece, I will not criticise your work in a way that makes you think about your life. I will cite exact reasons as to why your piece of literature isn't working for me. Trust me, I take feedback in the same spirit (if I've asked for it, of course). But since most people begin to mouth the word 'bitch' in their heads the moment I say something like "I think you could have worked on this in another way", I refrain from giving feedback. You can shove your lovely little pieces of writing where the sun don't shine.

4) Don't pretend you have read the entire collection at The British Council twice over, when your "Books I've read" list consists solely of Chetan Bhagat, Dan Brown, Sidney Sheldon, The Godfather, Paulo Coelho and The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. It's all ok to have read them on the side, but if those are your list, you are in serious trouble. Don't even bother writing.

5) If your punctuation is terrible, you need to go to school. There are no two ways about that. Frequent use of '.......' isn't cool either. It displays a clear lack of vocabulary or an inability to connect two sentences together. If both, punctuation and vocabulary, are a problem, kindly don't venture near pen and paper. And while we're on the subject, if you think blogging or writing in SMS language is cool, please go and write SMSes. ONLY.

6) It would help if it ever crossed your mind, that even the best pieces of writing may not be as amazing as you think they are. Your first draft cannot be your final draft (in 99% of the cases). Don't go about thinking that whatever you throw up on paper is going to be perfumed. Be open to the idea that it may stink and you can only do something about it, if you accept the possibility of it stinking. Also, edit and re-edit. Too many typos are extremely uncool.

7) Don't ask for advice from friends who don't read. Quite often, they will bloat your ego to the size of a spaceship by repeatedly using the word 'SUPERFAB!' in connection with your writing. This causes you to think that you know it all and there's no room for improvement. It is never the case.

And before I'm done with the bombardment of DONT'S and hence, the post, one word of advice for the person doling the feedback. It's very easy to sit there and poke holes with the piece under consideration, but difficult to produce it. So, be gentle. Don't just discard something as worthless without having the patience to impart constructive criticism (if the person is willing to listen to you, of course). If you can't do the latter, you've no right to do the former.

P.S. Nowhere do I claim to be the best writer there is. Heck, I don't even think I'm good. So, if you look really carefully, nowhere have I implied to be the Tolkein of our times. If anything, the post is to have aspiring writers (or people who believe they're already there) to stop making me feel like a bitch, simply because I think you write badly. So if I get any comments questioning my integrity to dole out advice, I will impale you. I promise.

The tag where I could lie, but it'd be stupid to...

I've seen quite a few tags in my short life, but none as nosy as the one I'm about to jump into. And since I'm an extremely nosy person myself (Sheesh, you weren't supposed to know that!), I'm getting a perverse sort of pleasure in doing this tag. So without further ado, ladies and gennemen, I present to you, the 30 nosy question tag!

1) When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
Man! I look horrendously sleep-deprived. (Ok I may not have said horrendous, but I'd like you to think that I even think big words in my head)

2) How much cash do you have in your wallet right now?
Approximately Rs. 400 odd. What? You didn't expect me to get up from here and go count, did you?

3) What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?
Core. Soar. Lore. Tore. Pore. Pour. Sore. Gore. Whore. Take your pick.

4) Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Bindu, my colleague from work. Although how this information enriched your life, I can't fathom.

5) What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
Love will come through by Travis.

6) What are you wearing right now?
Shorts and a tee.

7) Do you label yourself?
I think I should, since I'm extremely clumsy and might lose myself somewhere.

8) Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently own?
Let's see. There are those five pairs of Oshos I own, one Converse, my Adidas gym shoes and the tons of other junk chappals I keep buying. Again, take your pick (but don't borrow).

9) Bright or Dark Room?
An empty room

10) What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
I thought he (The White Phoenix) was my best friend, until his blog tells me otherwise and irreparably breaks my heart.

11) What does your watch look like?
It looks like a really nice Fastrack watch. That's all there is to it, really.

12) What were you doing at midnight last night?
I was already one and a half hour into blissful, sweaty sleep.

13) What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
I don't think I can reproduce it here. Next question, please.

14) What’s a word that you say a lot?
Bullshit. Fuck. Amazingggg!

15) Who told you he/she loved you last?
I told myself that, since nobody else did.

16) Last furry thing you touched?
Dad, when I gave him a fat-ass hug. :P

17) Favourite age you have been so far?
83. Although 59 wasn't too bad, either.

18) What was the last thing you said to someone?
Please pass me some cashews. (To dad)

19) The last song you listened to?
American Boy by Estelle feat. Kanye West

20) Where did you live in 1987?
Before March 22, I was in my mother's womb, after that in Mumbai.

21) Are you jealous of anyone?
Of anyone who manages to remain thin, in spite of eating like a goat.

22) Is anyone jealous of you?
Oh, loads of people. I'm quite the diva.

23) Name three things that you have on you at all times?
My iPod, cell phone and kajal

24) What’s your favourite town/city?
Mumbai.

25) When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
About two years ago, when Shivani and I used to write to each other. Days before she got a cell phone.

26) Can you change the oil on a car?
Isn't being able to drive it, enough?

27) Your first love/big crush: What is the last thing you heard about him/her?
He is happily in a relationship for three years and is completing his engineering.

28) Does anything hurt on your body right now?
My ring finger. I think I've pulled a vein somewhere and made it turn a poisonous green colour.

29) What is your current desktop picture?
A picture I'd clicked of the Murud Janjira lake.

30) Have you been burnt by love?
No, not yet. And I don't want to be, either.

Now that I've completed that, here's the fun part. I tag:

1) Lyandra
2) Mani
3) The Golden Retreat (if you ever return to my blog)
4) The Nicest Geek (I know he won't do it, but what the hell....)
5) Sreejit
6) G@K

Let's give peace a chance

I've never written a movie or book review in my life. And I don't think I will anytime soon, either. Right now, I'm going to talk about 'Khuda Kay Liye', a movie I've finished watching not more than five minutes ago. A movie, that has moved me in ways no other movie has, in a long long time. This is by no means a review; this is an experience.

Most people I know haven't seen Khuda Kay Liye, rejecting it simply because it is a product from Pakistan. The reasons range from bizarre ones like "There are so many Indian movies I have to still watch...Pakistani ones can wait!" to "You think Pakistanis can make good movies?". Well, someone even said that Muslims or anything remotely related to them depresses him. See how xenophobic we are on a day-to-day basis, without even realising it?

The movie addresses many issues, like how fundamental Muslims are completely at loggerheads with the progressive, liberal Muslims. Furthermore, it even probes into how all Muslims, even the unsuspecting, innocent ones, are looked upon as terrorists especially post 9/11. The film aims to educate and open the common Muslim woman's eyes and makes her aware about her rights and in places, even explains what the Koran actually means for women. There is such a complex, warped web of issues surrounding the community, that it is all very overwhelming to take in all at once. But that is exactly what this movie aims to do. Provoke the viewer into thinking for himself and not to subject himself to blindly accepting what the religious heads have to say, as well as to remind him that he has no right to paint the entire community black because of terrible experiences with certain members. Because simply put, a handful of bad eggs don't make up the entire basket.

All through the time I was watching the movie, I kept feeling sorry for the one of the lead characters and the torturous treatment doled out to him, because of his religion. And all I kept yelling in my head was, that he's NOT at fault. LET HIM GO already! For me, he was an innocent human who was framed through no fault of his. Shouldn't we be treating all our Muslim brothers from all over the world as humans first, Muslims later?

True, most terrorists these days turn out to be Muslims. But why do we resultantly look at every Muslim suspiciously? We know of Hindu, Sikh or Christian criminals. But do we look at everybody with scrutiny? Can we deny that the thought - 'Oh, he's a Muslim' doesn't cross our mind for a flitting second, the minute we're introduced to one? Why does this happen? And how did anybody let this reach this stage?

One thing everyone must remember, is that in every community, we will find all types of people - the liberal, the fanatic, the fundamentalist, the atheist, the agnostic - it takes all kinds to make up a community. But no one has the right to ill-treat someone on the basis of a community, much less ill-treat someone because they belong to one.

And lastly, if we must hate somebody, can we at least do it in peace, without bloodshed?

P.S. All views in this post are entirely mine. If you don't agree with them, too bad. Just read and let go , ok?