Those things you believe in..

“You know how when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be, white dress, prince charming who would carry you away to a castle on a hill. You would lie in bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Prince Charming, they were so close you could taste them, but eventually you grow up, one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. Most people turn to the things and people they can trust. But the thing is its hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely cause almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they will open their eyes and it will come true.”

-Dr. Meredith Grey

That part of me

ThatIve been a person who people have teased about my ideas of falling in love and prince charming. Countless times ive heard people I care about tell me that I live in a bubble, and prince charming was for Cinderella. I dint care; I was in love with the idea of falling in love ever since I knew what it was. The idea of someone blowing on my coffee to make it cooler, holding my hand and maneuvering me through puddles, reading a book with my head on his lap, trading food cos his is nicer and many other little things I can write a thesis about, were things id go dreamy about and spend many afternoons thinking of and many pages in my diaries rhapsodizing

But yep, it's not been easy and sticking to this theory was hard, I nearly gave up a while back. I almost succumbed to the "it's all in the movies" bit. I loved someone for four years of my life, killed my dreams and burst my bubbles in my head before I knew if they'd take shape. But I loved it. Loving someone enough to not even want to have them was something id never done before and I hope I never have to do again.

I truly believe that when you love someone, the finality to that love is not "dating them" or "having them" sure it would be nice, but that's not the end point. At that time, I dint see that love going anywhere and much as I longed for it, I was ok knowing that we'd never be together. I think love should be "loved" within the realms of your mind and heart – both of which resonate to create that weak-feeling-in-stomach and stupid-grin-on-face syndromes.

That said, hearts have a funny way of healing – just when you think you've loved that love your meant to love and seen your heart break every day, someone comes along and carries that hug, that smile and a few extra bonuses like dimpled cheeks and what not J

People always say "oh god I cant believe I could like that person" or "I don't think I really loved that person after all" after everything's over. But I embrace it – I embrace the fact that I went through an exhilarating tumultuous excruciating love, and now I have a chance to do it again. This time around a little more happiness please! and I do believe that love doesn't happen just once, it happens every day, in the eyes of the mother who packs food every day, the eyes of the dad who basks in the glory of his children's success, the siblings who cover up for each other, the friend who comes over armed with chocolate when feeling down, the form of this one crazy magical person who seems to have magical healing fingertips and words.

I know the above love is "different" from the love we were talking about – but since when did love have definitions, boundaries, rationality or any semblance of logic whatsoever.

If love isn't irrational crazy and intoxicating, then what is?

Great Expectations

“No one believes their life is going to turn out just kind of ok. We all think we’re going to be great, and we feel a little bit robbed when our expectations aren’t met; but sometimes our expectations sell us short. Sometimes the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected. You gotta wonder why we cling to our expectations; because the expected is just what keeps us steady, standing still. The expected is just the beginning; the unexpected is what changes our lives.”

-Dr. Meredith Grey

Music ..makes the free world...

Song currently in head. As stated above. :)

Music therapy is the next big thing apparently. Dont know why its taken so long for someone to figure that one out... for me, its been a pick-me-upper since a while now. Actually, come to think of it there's a song in my head no matter what i do, or am. Not that this is a good thing, I remember being in exams with songs like "what is your style number what is mobile number" on repeat mode. (its funny ONLY in hindsight, believe me, trying to write an electrical circuits paper with this song in your head is like trying to solve the CAT pissed drunk).

Happy new year and all that

Ladies and Gentlemen, today i shall expound on the merits of long distance relationships.

• There are NONE.

Moving on, Happy new year and all. Before anyone assumes i was at a rocking bash in keeping with the seemingly party chick image, i was not. I spent a nice quiet new years with my family watching fireworks from my window and generally chilling out in life.

Why anyone would want to venture out on a night no different from the others, pay 4 times as much to eat and drink the SAME (ok, maybe in a little more quantity), put yourself at risk for being groped and eve teased by drunk men is beyond me.

Me? i prefer it quiet. Friends and family, terrace/beach/farmhouse/house, food and drink and lots of cheer. Thats my ideal new year.

Anyhoo, so this new years begun already and i have no option but to swipe in and get going. (Was still in Aug-sept mode, am being force entered into 2008). I wonder how this one will go... watch this space!

He's the one

Been thinking about it for a long time. The kind of man I've always wanted to end up with, the kind of man I've been saving up for... He's a combination of perfect and not so perfect, sweet but a little rough around the edges, caring but a bit reserved with himself, in love with me, but not enough that I know confidently he'd be miserable without me...

Some must have's - Stubble.. but just about, the trace of a manly scent, whiffs making me try to guess the brand, and forget for a moment where i am. A strong, assertive, elegant watch that just peeks out from below the cuff, one Ill notice during some casual gestures made whilst speaking. A dimple - one that plays hide and seek, one that ill keep mentally longing to see...

He's attractive, but he need'nt be conventionally handsome, im not one for convention. He's athletic and would cancel on a date with me cos he wouldnt want to miss gym. I would TOTALLY be ok with that. in fact secretly I'd be pleased. He's romantic, but just in the right amounts. Men tend to get totally besotted with a woman sometimes and act completely embarassingly kooky. He doesnt put up with too many of my erratic moods, just when he knows he needs to. Men who cant stand up for themselevs and go weak kneeed around the woman they love are completely unattractive.

He can walk into a room with just an arm on my waist and completely own me, with just that one hand placed assertively on the small of my back, everyone will know where my heart is, and whose his belongs to. He drinks single malt scotch and enjoys his drink, one sip at a time... not too little, not one too much. Getting drunk will make me look bad too, he knows.

He is a kid at heart, one that i can crack absolutely ridiculous jokes with and laugh for no real reason. I let go, i let go of that completely in control, self-preservatory me and let myself be me again...just for a moment let me try. It feels nice, to depend.

He likes my family and loves them like his own - my dad enjoys a drink with him. They feel it too - that aura of assurance, love and protectiveness he bestows on me.

He sounds just perfect. But he isnt... he's cranky sometimes and irrational, and a little too nice. But thats where I come in. Me with my sensible-all-rational approach to life. Ill compensate by having that conversation with him - the one about why we cant make all our decisions with our heart - the lessons Ive learnt the hard way.

And he cant iron clothes. he's good at dishes, but hes bad at ironing clothes. "Ill cook" he says. Ah well. Its endearing, the strange aversion to ironing clothes.

Hard to find such a guy i hear you say. I've heard that all my life. I live in a bubble, rose tinted glasses, cinderella stories dont exist, been there heard that.

I'll have the last laugh on this one, i hear myself say. This guys just gonna pop off a plane and be mine, simple as that.

Two dozen years

This will be one of those completely irrelevant, random posts that seem to be all i have lately. Over the last week i realized that Ive hit that point i thought (and hoped) i would never reach. That point when i stop being SUPER DUPER excited about my birthday. Seriously, i was one of those people you'd get embarrassed being around because id be brimming with a lot (lot lot lot) of excitement. But Ive been lucky, Ive had friends who've pampered me to no end, made my day crazy special, gone that extra mile....

Having said that, there was something missing this year. Every one's busy and in their grown up worlds. Birthday treats had to be scheduled and rescheduled and (one) was finally canned. What was once unthinkable (not coming to my birthday, wishing me, missing the 12 o clock birthday wish etc) is now completely acceptable. Really this is the same girl who spent 9 p.m the previous night onwards wondering how the next three hours will pass till the clock turns 12!

It was a fun birthday, i was at my cousins wedding, and hence not in town. Everyone wished me, the wedding was fun yadayada. Colleagues made my day by decorating my bay and getting me a really nice jacket id been wanting since ages. i wont go into what each person did else this will sound like a thank you speech!

If I'm sounding a little off-key, let me clarify that i am. Have no idea why...or maybe i don't want to acknowledge that im being all grown up about it cos i don't! i don't want to get all boring and "its OK you forgot my birthday" about it. I want to be crazy and hormonally neurotically angry if someone dare do so, and a superlatively excited crazy fool again. I don't want to get into the whole "lets not give each other gifts, its quite juvenile" bit, no!! i want to spend a few days before each one of my friends birthdays and figure out what i want to get them and the whole enchilada. Needless to say i want the same back! :)

I've always had one anchor, one focal point who takes my day, decides how it will be, fixes things so that they’re all in place, jazzes it up and makes sure I've had the best day of that yr on my birthday. As someone rightly said, Shit happens. That anchor is now missing, and Ive become this hard as nails, ready to fend for myself, can take on anything person. while it is a good thing, I miss feeling hurt over small things, caring about the minuscule things in life and being completely vulnerable to someone. It was a strange feeling - that vulnerability. That euphoria on seeing that person after ages, or that sinking feeling and consequent sadness over the smallest thing they might’ve said that would hurt, thinking how one situation can benefit both rather than myself... More than anything, its the feeling of being two people, not one.

This hard-ass, independent, career woman, logic over everything, no nonsense person is just not me. I miss that naivete, that little inability to handle some situations and hence depending on some one to be there, that aching nagging little hurt over wanting something so bad, that crazy childlike (note: NOT childish) trusting person that I used to be.

Toughening up is just not cool.

Guess the odd man out.

On a vacation to a small hill station near Mumbai, this was displayed in the restaurant (!!!). Needless to say i dint order any of the items listed on the board above!

The Psalm of life

Here is one of my favorite poems - The psalm of life, by H.W. Longfellow. (1807-1882) The fact that each paragraph is so applicable to each one of us, and the amount of rational and practical advice one can take with him from it, is something i love.

A PSALM OF LIFE
WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream ! —

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal ;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way ;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle !

Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !

Let the dead Past bury its dead !

Act,— act in the living Present !

Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate ;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait

I could write a summary of which lines i love most and why, (which i probably will later), but for now, tell me what u think!

Cloudy dreamy Aksa

Cloudy overcast skies, and the raging tide. In the next half an hour, where i was standing as i clicked this photograph was not visibe any more.

Of Cotton Candy Clouds

Ok ill admit, this is a low resolution picture. Was taken from a bus ride home, while the bus was in motion, simply because the clouds were spread across the sky like little cotton pods waiting to be picked! None of the giant mass-like clouds were visible that day, just these little cloud-lets. :)

Calvin Quote

" Calvin: I'm a misunderstood genius.
Hobbes: Whats misunderstood about you?
Calvin: No one thinks I'm a genius"

This one was asking to be shared!

When God made man, she was only kidding.

Being a woman sure is tough. For the (few) men that do actually read this blog, here's a fair warning. Serendipity is currently suffering from Monday morning blues (although its only sunday evening), and is under the mellowing effect of having watched the season 2 finale of Grey's Anatomy, with lingering thoughts of Dr. Mc. dreamy. In case you're still reading, don't blame me later.

How can one show have so many Mc. Yummies in one go! For anyone whose not watched it, Patrick Dempsey is Dr. Mc dreamy. and Mc. dreamy he is. it is shows and movies like this that make us poor women fall in love with the idea of love and prince charming and what not. and then life shows us the clear difference between reel life and real life. i won't launch into that one now :)

I heard some quotable person mention that most womens problems can be solved by a nice pair of shoes, or a nice bag. I would like to shake the hand of this genius, and i also attest to the statement. Shopping has many therapeutic properties so if you feel your girlfriend, or wife, or mom is acting (more) neurotic or (more) hormonal than normal, then take her shopping! That money spent will reap you great rewards my friend.

Here are a few things that need to be understood about women.

• There are times that we're feeling moody just because. (Its the estrogen i tell ya)
• The next few bullet points are dedicated to shoes. Because they are a very important part of our lives.
• Different shoes go with different clothes. that's why we NEED so many. for e.g. to help the (poor?) men who never seem to get the (simple) logic, stilettos (shoes with pointy pencil heels that y'all love) go beautifully with most things. hence every woman needs to own at least one pair. ( i mean two, one black and one any colour of her choice)
• Flats look terrible with formal black pants, but needed for everyday wear. Sneakers for running, Pumps/Strappy shoes for skirts and block heels for when you want to wear heels, but don;t want to wear stilettos.
• Of course you need different shoes with Indian wear.
• (Phew i hope that helped at least a little). coming back to other important aspects of our lives.
• No matter how many clothes we have, we'll always need more. (errr.. or want)
• YOU get manicures, pedicures, haircuts, waxes, threading, facials, bleaches, exfoliation dehydration, moisturization, detoxification and many other such (unnecessary evils) done to your body and tell us how you'd feel. Before some wise-ass leaves me a comment saying this is completely voluntary and not enforced it is due to some jerks that most women have complexes that make them feel not-so-beautiful which is why we resort to such external tactics (beautiful is more than skin deep and all) in the first place. If your girlfriend has a forehead that marks the confluence of her hairline and eyebrows and did nothing about it, please tell me you'd still dote on her. (yes. i believe u)
• We secretly love Mc. dreamy's so you ought to know what your up against. every woman wants a Prince Charming. and while your not expected to be your nicest best at all times. we would like some thoughful moments out of you, when you're not acting like a jerk, picking a fight with us or just acting completely clueless in life.
• If you want to buy us something, buy it. Dont ask. we'll say no but we mean yes. This does not apply to questions like "why don't u do the dishes tonight" etc.
• Understand that estrogen is an excrutiatingly difficult hormone to have so much of. Unlike testosterone, its makes you think of things other than sports, sex or food. It makes us cranky and horrid when its that time of the month, or not that time, it releases compulsive shopping disorders, random outbursts of joy or equally uncalled reasons for grief.
• Its well known that through all this neurotic, wiry behaviour we still manage to go to work, help out at home, be nice to people and put up with all their ridiculous behaviour, deal with all that (damn) estrogen and still manage to make it through our lives.

Disclaimer - Any characters and pronouns used in this post are purely fictional. No offence is mean to (most) people. So in case i do know you in real life, don't come pelt me. Its the Estrogen.

(Dis)connectivity

India has over 200 million subscribers to mobile telephony... and this number is fast growing. In a country where just a decade ago, STD/ISD calls had to be booked well in advance, words had to be shouted into the mouthpiece, and minutes counted by rupees, now making a call even to the U.S costs a meagre 3-5 rupees a minute.

Surprising then, that in the age of connectivity, we are in fact, Dis connected. Dis connected from each others feelings and emotions, disconnected from the joy of receiving a long distance call after ages... these things are just an everyday affair now. Oh there are so many things I'm trying to say here. I'm just a tad bit melancholy about how sms's have replaced phone calls, how emails have replaced hand written letters and hugs and kisses are replaced by brackets and symbols. I had pen pals, some old friends from school with whom i kept in touch via letters and cards regularly. What even i now regard as tedious was actually a time of the week i used to await - when i would open my (Often Archie stationary) letter pad and start with a "Hope this letter finds you in the best of health". Surprisingly, we are all on each others orkut/facebook etc but more out of touch than then. True that there are other attributes that factor in to drifting away, but coming back to what i said in the first place.. we are connected (Orkut is a social networking tool that blah blah..) and all that, but at the same time we aren't!

Sms, email, fast food, one min photos, super fast trains, Mum-London direct flights, are all efforts to condense time required for these mundane activities. But what do we do with this extra time? Living in Mumbai, we spend most of our time travelling or working, How many of us take the time to spend on ourselves? and family? I for one, catch up with most of my friends only over the weekend and i suspect that its the case with mostly everyone. Everyone thinks they're overworked and underpaid which might be the case, but the time that we have on our hands is ours to spend. so many people waste to much time doing nothing productive at work most of the day and then work late. and then complain about it! I say, get in, finish your shit and get out!

A look at the sheer number of bloggers since the advent of blogs shows the amount of people who log on just to vent, confess, ramble, rant, complain and just let their hearts out. I am obviously not referring to the arty/creative/real author/Picture blogs. There are so many anonymous users who log on just to talk about their feelings and have someone who'll leave them an understanding comment. They talk about family trouble, marital problems and Failures in love and Business. So much frustration pent up, so much angst to release....Why? Where's the shoulder to cry on, friend to reply on? People turn to anonymous identities on orkut/Facebook/HI5 and what not upcoming social networking tools which serves as a vent to the creepy crazy depressed maniac inside. Of course, im leaving out the regular people who are anonymous purely for the sake of the above kinds of people not lurking around in their profiles. Are there really so many creeps living amongst us?

Time and growing insensitivity is not my only complain. Gifting has lost so much of its meaning... Diwali gifts have begun pouring in at home... Vases, Candles, Bowls, Dinner sets. the same routine every year... get and pass on. Whats more important is not the gift per se, its the visiting card that accompanies it.

I love gifts. I love giving people things and I love getting gifts too. For me whats more important is seeing the person's expressions on opening the gift, its that sense of satisfaction which creates enthusiasm for gifting. Gifts needn't be big on money or value or size, they should just be big on love. For the last 3 years, I've been getting greeting cards from Prafful, a small pen or pocket diary or chocolate from my old buildings watchman who never forgets. They mean as much to me as the Azzaro perfume gifted to me by my best friend.

All in all, I hate that we all take so many things for granted around us, so many chances to make a phone call/hug someone/meet a friend we miss, so many things we think in our head we leave there due to circumstances/time/ or simply being lazy.

I would've thought that considering the number of mediums of communication that have opened up, we'd be more in touch.

Sunday Times

Bobby Jindal. (our very own?) Governor of Louisana. He's been in the news all this week since he's been recently elected to the post i just mentioned. People in his village in India celebrated by distributing sweets and dancing in front of the tv screens. Let alone the fact that he's never visited India (and hasnt announced any plans of), the fact that he is Indian-American is enough for India to claim the honour and hail the new governor of an American state, no less.

Never mind that Bobby as he is known, spurned his Indian name (Piyush) at age 5, insisted on being called Bobby after a character in the hit (American) tv show "The Bradys bunch". He converted to Christianity at age 15, whilst giving up Hinduism (which he also made his wife give up). Husband and wife are now devout Christians, visiting the church every Sunday making the picture perfect American family, fit to occupy the governors chair. Did i also say that he mis-pronounced his brothers Indian name during a speech he made recently.

Why exactly are we hailing him then? No doubt he is the youngest man to have been elected tot his post, by a wide margin no less. Lets applaud him for that. And not cause he's Indian-American, because that's not what his victory is about, that's what we are making it out to be. Lets not cheer him for being the first "Indian-American" to be elected governor. Its more that obvious which half of the hyphen of Indian-american he falls on. So many people having Indian origins spurn their motherland, accrediting the places they've grown up in for their victories and accolades, which is only fair.

Another example is Sanjaya Malakar who captured everyone's hearts (and votes) during the recent American Idol. He is Indian- American too. During a post-idol interview he credited his Italian Grand father for his talent. while Indian tv and American media went berserk claiming a toothy gypsy haired Indian-American was taking over American hearts.

Geethali Norah Jones Shankar dropped her first and last names. yet we hail her and feel a sense of connection since shes our very own half Indian daughter. I can just see her making that effort to keep that half alive. Yep.

What im most annoyed about is how Indian media and people claim party to credit for someone whose never lived here, does not acknowledge his/her roots to India. why do we need to glorify individuals who have left India 30-40 years ago and perhaps never even lived here? What sort of contribution do we have to their success as Indians?

The need to glorify India and make evident her footprints in every field, every aspect of the world be it business, glamour, science, talent, research... is long gone. India has arrived on the global map since a long time... its time we revel a little.

On a completely separate note, Hoorah for Kimi!! Im been a BIG fan ever since. although Lewis has a new fan in me, although he is in a rival team. Ferrari proved that in the end, team-spirit prevailed over cut-throat competiton between two drivers of the same team.

Moonwalking on the pier

Welcome to where time stands still

No one leaves and no one will

Moon is full, never seems to change

Just labeled mentally deranged

Dream the same thing every night

I see our freedom in my sight

No locked doors, no windows barred

No things to make my brain seem scarred

- Metallica (Sanitarium)

Zara Hatke, Zara Bachke.. yeh hai..

It is said of Mumbai that it is the city that never sleeps. True. Mumbai is the city of dreams. True. Mumbai is the city of heartbreak. True. Mumbai is the city of survival, true. Dreams break, hopes crash, faith dwindles and then a ray of light shines… a stranger lends a helping hand, a small gesture by someone near, a glimmer of light and then we’re up again - hope and faith rekindled, we’re back on our feet, ready to face the battle again… to swim into the sea of people and cling on to the handle of a train and make it to work in one piece.

Life is too fast paced and time is measured in terms of amount or revenue generated per minute- there’s simply no time to waste. And that’s the price we pay - time. We’re all so swept up in work and spending most of our time commuting that there’s no “ME” time. I think this phenomenon is fast spreading to other metros as well… people just don’t have time for themselves, their families or their bodies.

That said, Mumbai is a city that reverberates with the heartbeat of the millions of Mumbaikars, with their undying spirit and enthusiasm. Festivals and Religious beliefs are celebrated with aggressive enthusiasm, fasts are observed in spite of hectic schedules, Ganesh and Diwali are observed with fervent prayers and unshakable faith.

Lovers must love Mumbai I'm sure! PDA’s are a strict no-no, yet they find some isolated Nana Nani park or rock on Bandstand or behind an umbrella on Marine Drive to spend those precious moments together… where beggars, policemen and hawkers are considered but a small obstacle.

You don’t need lots of money or financial backing to succeed in Mumbai. This of course is limited to your definition of success, but all you need is steadfast dedication, ambition, relentless determination and ability to use the resources available to you. Mucchad Paanwala is a small corner street Paanwala who is now world famous. K Rustoms is a decrepit looking store next to Churchgate station selling ice creams for decades. Some of the best Bhel Puri and Vada Pav wala’s in Mumbai are small little stands, who people visit from all over Mumbai.

Noisy, dirty, cramped and overpopulated it may be, Mumbai is my city and I LOVE it. For the people who hold your hand whilst your running to get into a train, for the beggar who stops and helps you stand up when you trip, for the little kid in the train selling you rubber bands, for the thousands of people who took unknown people in their homes on 9/11, for all of us who weather heavy rain and horrid sun to make it to work everyday, for the B.E.S.T. bus conductors who inform you in advance when your stop is expected, for the Mamu’s you pay when you get caught breaking a signal, for the never-say-die attitude, for marine drive and sea walks and the rain and Jumbo king Pav and Esselworld and blink-and-you’ll-miss-em winters and for never ending BMC squabbles and what not. I love Mumbai.

Smiling hearts and faces...

Two years ago I met someone who has left imprints on my mind and heart, I know will never fade. I met him through my mother, incidentally. My mother used to read and record lessons on a tape recorder for two blind children she happened to come across. These boys although blind, were studying for their B.A. exams and were in their first and third years respectively. My mother would record their lessons on a cassette, which they would listen to and accordingly type out in Braille on old Magazine papers and other papers which we would collect for them and study from.

These boys stay in a chawl about 15 minutes from my house and would come walking hand in hand or hand on shoulder each week to collect their cassettes and papers. One of them, Prafful is the one who is the person I’m referring to in my first sentence. There are so many things I love about him, and I'm unsure of where to start. Let me just tell you a few things about him and you can figure it out yourself…

He always has a smile on his face. There were times I walked in home, possibly from a bad day at work, and I would be greeted with a “Hi Kashi Ahes” (Hi! How are you! ) accompanied by a radiant smile - the kind that brings only happiness with it, I felt ashamed immediately of letting trivial inconsistencies have gotten the better of me.

He always looks in the precise direction where I’m standing, I could be standing at the far end of the room or have entered from behind him, but he looks almost at me… Its not only me, it could be anyone in the room… the persons voice is his identification and he has a keen sense of presence, of being tuned into each and every movement made, each noise he heard. If I turned the page of a book he’d ask me which book it was and what it was about... It was almost like he dint even need his eyes had they been there…I felt like we take simple things like having a functional body and senses for granted.

He is always neatly dressed. You don’t need fancy expensive clothes to be hygienic, clean and be pleasing in your appearance.

He can joke about his blindness... One evening both Kailash and Prafful stayed a little longer than expected since my mom served them tea and sweets…on which Prafful says to my mom “Madam we’d better leave now, its turning dark. This Kailash turns completely blind when its dark” of course my mom was confused (weren’t they both blind?) on which Prafful explained that he is completely blind no matter what time of the day it is, but Kailash feels a gleam of light in his eyes which goes when its dark.

Unless he tells you, you don’t know he’s blind. He never talks of it as a curse, he never wishes he wasn’t blind, he never tells others how lucky they are… he’s accepted his blindness and conquered it. It does not bind him, does not hold him back form anything he wants to do, and anywhere he wants to go. His limitations are the only ones he sets for himself.

Prafful has taught me that he doesn’t need my pity. And I don’t pity him … I did initially as all of us would I guess… but he’s taught me that there’s no room for pity in his life… he doesn’t pity himself and doesn’t like others doing so.

He doesn’t look at himself as lesser gifted, or lesser able. He participates in Govinda and silently laments he wishes he could climb to the top (I want to but these boys don’t let me he says), he’s in his chawl plays and dramas which ive been invited for but sadly don’t land up going (but I will someday). He always narrates what character he plays in the drama to me - my fav was when he was shown to be a school boy who doesn’t turn up to school one day cos he feels lazy and the next day explains to the teacher that he could’nt come cos his hen delivered !!!! of course, this is funnier in Marathi accompanied by the full range of expressions.

He works as a Salesman and travels all over Mumbai trying to sell cards/stationary Ive met him on a B.E.S.T. bus one day and bought his ticket when he dint know. The minute the conductor told him his ticket had been bought, he insisted on knowing who it was and paying the person.

I respect him. And I respect the way he lives his life. I love that none of the boundaries or limitations of his life are defined either by his blindness or by any psychological barriers. I love that he dreams dreams like all of us, none that “befit” a blind boy who should dream small. I admire that he faces each day with courage and that he wants to earn well and have a good job. I take inspiration that this boy has a smile on his face, no matter what. And it’s a smile that reaches his eyes… and they don’t feel so dark anymore.

Dilbert

Someone at work sent me this. I died laughing. How many times have we been in such a situation!!!

Zen sarcasm - "No matter what happens, somebody will find a way to take it too seriously" hehehe

This.. is.. SPARTA

I’ve been watching zillions of movies off late. Ive always liked movies, but never been a HUGE movie-holic. Hindi movies id go for only if they turned out to be massive hits or if they were Nagesh Kukonoor movies (who I spent a long time adoring btw). Anyhoo, Ive watched The Bourne Ultimatum, 300, and Gone with the wind this weekend. Oh my god. How satisfied am I. Id say 300 was the best movie not only out of these three, but also one of the best Ive seen in a very long time. I only kick myself for not having watched 300 in the theatre when it released.

WHAT A MOVIE. THOROUGHLY EXCITING ENTHRALLING SUPERCOOL AWESOME MINDBLOWING MIND NUMBINGLY THRILLING it is!! I spent the last three days recounting dialogues to whoever would listen (and whoever wouldn’t as well). I quote a few of my favorites -

Xerxes - “Imagine what horrible fate awaits my enemies when I would gladly kill any of my own men for victory”
King Leonidas to Xerxes - “And I would die for mine”

Queen Gorgo to King Leonidas - “Come back with your shield or on it.”

King Leonidas to Astinos (Astinos is dying, right beside the king and says “My king its an honour to die by your side”)

King Leonidas says “And its an honour to have lived by yours”

King Leonidas - “Immortals….we’ll put their name to test”

[Dilios is putting a patch over his eye]

King Leonidas: “Dilios, I trust that "scratch" hasn't made you useless”

Dilios: “Hardly, my lord, it's just an eye. The gods saw fit to grace me with a spare”

[Xerxes standing atop a hill watching his "Immortal"army being slaughtered by the Spartans"
Dilios: “Immortals, they failed the king's test, and a man who fancies himself a god feels a very human chill crawl up his spine.”

Just realized id probably be trying to narrate the entire movie here if i dont stop. The movie is filled with awespiring dialogue after dialogue. Throughout the movie i had goosepimples and a fast pacing heart only because the movie just stuns you with its magnificence not only in terms of the script but also by the brilliant cinematography. This movie has apparently been shot in 60 days, but underwent one year of editing to get the visual effects right. And right it is. Its a visual delight.


I must admit that I’m strangely distracted now and feeling that rush of euphoria after I had watched the movie. All I know is that this is a movie worth all the blood and gore and is also a MUST own.

Right now I say to myself “Calm down girl”.