What Book Are You Reading: Reading No onions or garlic- by srividya natarajan- its hilarious and brilliant...everybody read. before that read Puffball by Fay weldon - its creepy and brilliant. everybody please read. Also "Every Business is a growth business" :P
Favourite Board Game: Scotland yard....tho noone ever plays with me anymore. Also Cluedo- but its become too easy now i loved it when i was 6).
Favourite Magazine: Cosmo. Yes I like i and I cannot lie.
Favorite Smells: Food (chicken kabab type and also cookies), soap on skin.
Favourite Sound: All music played on my comp, with me in charge of the playlist.
Worst Feeling in The World: So many different kind of bad feelings exist. Cant say which is worst. Probably a combination
What Is the First Thing You Think of When You Wake? Oh god whats the time? am i late?
Favorite Fast Food Place: dont have any right now....eat only slow food. But KFC i think...if i ate there often.
Finish This Statement. "If I Had A Lot Of Money I'd.. spend it on vacations and clothes and hide the rest.
Do You Sleep With A Stuffed Animal? Nope.
Storms-Cool Or Scary? Cool.
Favourite drink: Long island Iced Teas
Finish This Statement, "If I Had The Chance I Would ... sigh so many many things
If You Could Dye Your Hair Any Color, What Would Be Your Choice? I like it black.
What's Under Your Bed? A lot of bags with papers in them and old files. And a huge suitcase with woolens and another storing quilts.
Would You Like To Be Born As Yourself Again? Yes
Morning Person Or Night Owl? Both
Over Easy Or Sunny Side Up? ? Both i think...how are they different?
Favourite Place To Relax: balcony, bed, bars
Favourite Pie: Apple
Favourite Ice Cream Flavor: Chocolate. I also like the naturals flavours.
Happy M? now its ruma and cbm's turn
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Fluff
So I read this piece today- If you cannot be bothered clicking on the link - it is about a man complaining about how watching the new sex and the city movie is akin to poking one's eyes out with red-hot pokers, burning skin off, and rolling around in salt for a while.
(A man who has not seen the movie incidentally)
Really? That terrible? I realize that the show is about women with 'inside women jokes' but surely men get it? But then I think about being made to watch 3 hours of cricket or golf and can suddenly emphatize the poking and ripping one's skin off business.
(But what I am still puzzled about is that a lot of women seem to enjoy watching sports...or male oriented sitcoms or movies..don't even ask me what I mean by the term.... but I don't think a proportional number of men would enjoy a sex and the city.... but then again I don't know....there are no numbers for this sort of thing)
While why men hate chick lit/chick flicks and my theories on that itself can create a whole post, this one I think I will devote to understanding why I like chick flicks or chick lit.
( But what is chick lit/flicks...books about women by women? Well those are not the kind i am referring to...I am referring to the happy feel goody warm Sunday afternoon stuff....I have read stuff by women for women like Fay Weldon or Maragret Atwood that are totally not warm or feel goody....... Ill be referring to the stuff I am talking about in this post as Fluff rather than calling it chick lit or chick flick. There is enough 'chick lit' thats not Fluff)
Truth be told most Fluff really really annoys me - I hated 'maid in manhattan' (ugh ugh...quick poll: how many people actually like that movie? chick or no chick?) Also hate pink colourful books where there is the heroine who spends first 25 pages fucking up, the next 25 being chased by two men both who have the answer to all her problems and the last 25 picking the nicer of the two and realising that she could solve all her problems by herself all along.
Then why this defense of fluff...cos I really do very deeply love Fluff. Good Fluff. Maid in manhattan, and the pink books all give Fluff a bad name bu just being bad.
Theres nothing like watching Roman holiday for the 100th time on an off day or a quick read of Bridget Jones to perk u up at the end of a brain dead day, or any John Cussack movie ( the ones where he is being cute and mushy, not pyscho. Cute as in serendipity or high fidelity (ha! guy chick flick!)
Sure its silly, sure its ridiculous, and defies reason and is repetitive and can be watched with your brain left behind. Sure its superflous, sure it promotes a slightly regressive agenda that says shopping is fun, shoes are nice, careers are showpieces for clothes, but the life can only be the sweetest with that handsome man sweeping u off into the sunset. (But comeon like rambo has impeccable logic and is a thought provoking film......I know this is no argument to promote Fluff appreciation but I am just saying though equally mindless and regressive action as a genre does not get the same kind of derision that Fluff does)
But hey, its fiction. We know that. Sure life doesnt change when you have a makeover. There are no great sunsets. But heres what it is about Fluff:
- its easy. Its well defined. there's a formula, there's a pace, there's familiarity, even if it is escapist, it escapes along well known paths and corridors. You do not have to worry about plot twists or new ideas. Its relaxing. (Ironically this is often why the genre fails to be considered as a 'serious' one. And it’s a classic case of cultural snobbery: if it is good it should be hard to get - Not so. A good writer makes the labour of great writing appear effortless in the reading)
-its got style: I’m talking about shoes and clothes and ...more. The Fluff tone is stunning. Its fast, there are always funny one liners, dialogue is snappy, the sets are pretty. The music is almost always brilliant and it is nice to look at . People in Fluff are always pretty
- its not always about shoes and clothes and men: really sometimes it can be fluffy but not shoes, men - See confessions of a teenage drama queen. And yes Fluff does focus on shoes and clothes and men...but there is a lot more...witty commentary about the world we live in, interesting plots, the characters self discovery , tear inducing triumphs and laughter inducing falls.
- Its identifiable : Sure I have already acknowledged that it has creepy retro 'ride away with your man into sunset' agenda. Fluff has bad role models, Fluff is superflous and sells you thimgs, Fluff reinforces media images of women and requires them to be thin, pretty obsessed about their weight, pine endlessly for that one true love. Sure sure I agree.
Bad role model?- I agree. But one female character should not have to bear the burden of speaking for women everywhere. (and she so does not claim to!!) But we understand and identify with this crazy shoe obsessed, weight obsessed flawed woman who would love to be carried away into sunset. There is a little bridget jones in all of us.
and here I end my defence of fluff
Also see this and this and this all very nice pieces saying a lot more about Fluff and a whole lot better on both sides.
(A man who has not seen the movie incidentally)
Really? That terrible? I realize that the show is about women with 'inside women jokes' but surely men get it? But then I think about being made to watch 3 hours of cricket or golf and can suddenly emphatize the poking and ripping one's skin off business.
(But what I am still puzzled about is that a lot of women seem to enjoy watching sports...or male oriented sitcoms or movies..don't even ask me what I mean by the term.... but I don't think a proportional number of men would enjoy a sex and the city.... but then again I don't know....there are no numbers for this sort of thing)
While why men hate chick lit/chick flicks and my theories on that itself can create a whole post, this one I think I will devote to understanding why I like chick flicks or chick lit.
( But what is chick lit/flicks...books about women by women? Well those are not the kind i am referring to...I am referring to the happy feel goody warm Sunday afternoon stuff....I have read stuff by women for women like Fay Weldon or Maragret Atwood that are totally not warm or feel goody....... Ill be referring to the stuff I am talking about in this post as Fluff rather than calling it chick lit or chick flick. There is enough 'chick lit' thats not Fluff)
Truth be told most Fluff really really annoys me - I hated 'maid in manhattan' (ugh ugh...quick poll: how many people actually like that movie? chick or no chick?) Also hate pink colourful books where there is the heroine who spends first 25 pages fucking up, the next 25 being chased by two men both who have the answer to all her problems and the last 25 picking the nicer of the two and realising that she could solve all her problems by herself all along.
Then why this defense of fluff...cos I really do very deeply love Fluff. Good Fluff. Maid in manhattan, and the pink books all give Fluff a bad name bu just being bad.
Theres nothing like watching Roman holiday for the 100th time on an off day or a quick read of Bridget Jones to perk u up at the end of a brain dead day, or any John Cussack movie ( the ones where he is being cute and mushy, not pyscho. Cute as in serendipity or high fidelity (ha! guy chick flick!)
Sure its silly, sure its ridiculous, and defies reason and is repetitive and can be watched with your brain left behind. Sure its superflous, sure it promotes a slightly regressive agenda that says shopping is fun, shoes are nice, careers are showpieces for clothes, but the life can only be the sweetest with that handsome man sweeping u off into the sunset. (But comeon like rambo has impeccable logic and is a thought provoking film......I know this is no argument to promote Fluff appreciation but I am just saying though equally mindless and regressive action as a genre does not get the same kind of derision that Fluff does)
But hey, its fiction. We know that. Sure life doesnt change when you have a makeover. There are no great sunsets. But heres what it is about Fluff:
- its easy. Its well defined. there's a formula, there's a pace, there's familiarity, even if it is escapist, it escapes along well known paths and corridors. You do not have to worry about plot twists or new ideas. Its relaxing. (Ironically this is often why the genre fails to be considered as a 'serious' one. And it’s a classic case of cultural snobbery: if it is good it should be hard to get - Not so. A good writer makes the labour of great writing appear effortless in the reading)
-its got style: I’m talking about shoes and clothes and ...more. The Fluff tone is stunning. Its fast, there are always funny one liners, dialogue is snappy, the sets are pretty. The music is almost always brilliant and it is nice to look at . People in Fluff are always pretty
- its not always about shoes and clothes and men: really sometimes it can be fluffy but not shoes, men - See confessions of a teenage drama queen. And yes Fluff does focus on shoes and clothes and men...but there is a lot more...witty commentary about the world we live in, interesting plots, the characters self discovery , tear inducing triumphs and laughter inducing falls.
- Its identifiable : Sure I have already acknowledged that it has creepy retro 'ride away with your man into sunset' agenda. Fluff has bad role models, Fluff is superflous and sells you thimgs, Fluff reinforces media images of women and requires them to be thin, pretty obsessed about their weight, pine endlessly for that one true love. Sure sure I agree.
Bad role model?- I agree. But one female character should not have to bear the burden of speaking for women everywhere. (and she so does not claim to!!) But we understand and identify with this crazy shoe obsessed, weight obsessed flawed woman who would love to be carried away into sunset. There is a little bridget jones in all of us.
and here I end my defence of fluff
Also see this and this and this all very nice pieces saying a lot more about Fluff and a whole lot better on both sides.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Crisises
It was Friday night and I a whole long weekend of no plans to look forward to.
I was sitting in my car systematically messaging everybody in my contact list on my phone to make plans. Of course everybody was already at river lodges or out of town or being cool to want to accompany me to the movies or such like. But hey at least I was on my way for 'drinks' with a friend at that very moment.
(Of course the next day was elections so there was no place we could have drinks. My friend and I would find out and quickly reschedule another restaurant...and another...and another..... little knowing that almost any eatery/drinkery in that area was shut that day....we would discover it...in most exasperating circumstances)
As I resigned myself to a dullish slothful activityless weekend feeling a tiny bit sorry for myself, the bright brigade road lights not offering much comfort, I was startled out of my reverie to notice we were not moving. Even though the signal was green, even though we weren't in the middle of a traffic jam.
"Whats the problem?", I asked.
"The vehicle wont start", said my driver stating the obvious.
( yes I have a driver I dont know how to drive I am very ashamed of myself.....but I shamed myself further with what I did next)
"Dadeee the car has stop what do I do", I wailed into the phone (Seriously dude. I dint know what else to do. It was the middle of brigade MG road junction road. People were honking behind me. My friend was calling a million times...cos every place we wanted to go was shut, and also she was now being followed by a creepy boy)
" So you can, maybe, perhaps, consider, figure out yes? no?" stuttered and stammered my clueless father. "Get some people to help you and push it to the corner", he instructed shaking himself out of his confusion "Then we will see."
Einstein!
So i looked hither and thither in my most frail and helpless manner, wringing my hands, flicking my hair looking, hoping some big strong people would come and help me with this giant car and also tell me what to do next. My driver looked small and harried and jumped about also rather uselessly. A bunch of auto drivers looked at curiously and passively. "Dont bother us. If you ask us to help you we will laugh at you" their quite kind curious eyes seemed to say. Nevertheless we asked them and they laughed at us and we resumed looking harried and frail.
My driver dug out some old manual and spotted a helpline number. I called them from my mobile explained my predicament. They listened and offered helpful suggestions - PUSH the car and it will start.
No strong persons seemed to be available or on their way. So I pushed the car hardly expecting the scorpio to move but hallelujah it did!! and strong people did come to rescue . Well strong person. One man...half heartedly he helped me push the car. The car wouldnt start but was safely moved to one side of the road. We called the help line again who insisted we should just push hard enough.
"Enough is enough send a tow truck", I ordered. '
"No we will not call another garage", they replied. (They did kindly give me a number though).
So I called them. They other garage told us to push the car and see if it started. I told them I tried that they dint believe me. My driver told them we tried that and they believed him. Meanwhile my friend checked out each and every restaurant in the area, creepy boy in tow, found them all closed and decided that the only thing left to do was to collapse in a coffee shop and slurp iced teas till such time as I resolved my dilemma.
The rescuers arrived tow truck and all. But first they looked under the hood, inside the car, at the wheels and then...they got behind the car and gave it a giant push and of course it started! Except now it couldnt stop they said. If it did, it would not start again. So I gave my driver instructions to ride like the wind and not stop till he reached home where the problem could be safely handed over to dadee, while I went to collapse and slurp iced teas myself.
Give me an eventless weekend anyday
I was sitting in my car systematically messaging everybody in my contact list on my phone to make plans. Of course everybody was already at river lodges or out of town or being cool to want to accompany me to the movies or such like. But hey at least I was on my way for 'drinks' with a friend at that very moment.
(Of course the next day was elections so there was no place we could have drinks. My friend and I would find out and quickly reschedule another restaurant...and another...and another..... little knowing that almost any eatery/drinkery in that area was shut that day....we would discover it...in most exasperating circumstances)
As I resigned myself to a dullish slothful activityless weekend feeling a tiny bit sorry for myself, the bright brigade road lights not offering much comfort, I was startled out of my reverie to notice we were not moving. Even though the signal was green, even though we weren't in the middle of a traffic jam.
"Whats the problem?", I asked.
"The vehicle wont start", said my driver stating the obvious.
( yes I have a driver I dont know how to drive I am very ashamed of myself.....but I shamed myself further with what I did next)
"Dadeee the car has stop what do I do", I wailed into the phone (Seriously dude. I dint know what else to do. It was the middle of brigade MG road junction road. People were honking behind me. My friend was calling a million times...cos every place we wanted to go was shut, and also she was now being followed by a creepy boy)
" So you can, maybe, perhaps, consider, figure out yes? no?" stuttered and stammered my clueless father. "Get some people to help you and push it to the corner", he instructed shaking himself out of his confusion "Then we will see."
Einstein!
So i looked hither and thither in my most frail and helpless manner, wringing my hands, flicking my hair looking, hoping some big strong people would come and help me with this giant car and also tell me what to do next. My driver looked small and harried and jumped about also rather uselessly. A bunch of auto drivers looked at curiously and passively. "Dont bother us. If you ask us to help you we will laugh at you" their quite kind curious eyes seemed to say. Nevertheless we asked them and they laughed at us and we resumed looking harried and frail.
My driver dug out some old manual and spotted a helpline number. I called them from my mobile explained my predicament. They listened and offered helpful suggestions - PUSH the car and it will start.
No strong persons seemed to be available or on their way. So I pushed the car hardly expecting the scorpio to move but hallelujah it did!! and strong people did come to rescue . Well strong person. One man...half heartedly he helped me push the car. The car wouldnt start but was safely moved to one side of the road. We called the help line again who insisted we should just push hard enough.
"Enough is enough send a tow truck", I ordered. '
"No we will not call another garage", they replied. (They did kindly give me a number though).
So I called them. They other garage told us to push the car and see if it started. I told them I tried that they dint believe me. My driver told them we tried that and they believed him. Meanwhile my friend checked out each and every restaurant in the area, creepy boy in tow, found them all closed and decided that the only thing left to do was to collapse in a coffee shop and slurp iced teas till such time as I resolved my dilemma.
The rescuers arrived tow truck and all. But first they looked under the hood, inside the car, at the wheels and then...they got behind the car and gave it a giant push and of course it started! Except now it couldnt stop they said. If it did, it would not start again. So I gave my driver instructions to ride like the wind and not stop till he reached home where the problem could be safely handed over to dadee, while I went to collapse and slurp iced teas myself.
Give me an eventless weekend anyday
Friday, May 9, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Brain dead
these days my brain has died
half formed words in my mouth have dried
its the heat i tell u, this summer- its too hot,
its fried my head, many tears have been shed, but so what
its still burning, boiling, my head is melting and so is my skin
im a puddle on the floor all melted and gross, im finished before i even begin
half formed words in my mouth have dried
its the heat i tell u, this summer- its too hot,
its fried my head, many tears have been shed, but so what
its still burning, boiling, my head is melting and so is my skin
im a puddle on the floor all melted and gross, im finished before i even begin
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