Monday, July 14, 2008

THE MOVER & PACKER ON THE MOVE AGAIN



Once again I am all set to move house…a new city…a new place to call my own. I guess that’s all I’ve been doing all my life so much so that it has become a necessity. Living in one place for aeons is and will never be my cup of tea. The biggest challenge at such times is packing or I would like to put it across as one (since most people hate it).Oh! but I love packing. It’s so much fun. It’s like Christmas all the time…..newspaper…string…..cartons….labels…checklist everywhere.
I have a very queer way of packing. First I do the packing in my mind….possibly for days….imagining al the stuff stowed away in their respective receptacles, and then I go for the jugular.

This time I am phasing my packing in two parts. First the immediates and the other the follow ups. Immediates ill take with me… Clothes, shoes, documents, and essentials like my coffee makers, hair dryer and iron, and the follow ups will follow on after I have settled temporarily in m permanent (temporary really! coz nothing is permanent for me ) place

Oh! And I have peculiar idiosyncrasies like all my clothes should be pre-ironed and delicates packed in individual poly bags so that sequins etc don’t get torn out. There is a place for everything and everything in its place………am an operations gal…..and I guess it permeates my personal space too…….loved the principles of 5 S’……when I learnt of them. And subsequently fell in love with the Japanese who actually propounded the concept.

I know just in which corner of my suitcase my belts will go or where the perfumes are slotted…and it’s not totally irrational or eccentric……I put it there with a particular reason…very much in sync with the principles of ergonomics. Again I’d like to stress the fact that packing is actually a very artistic and scientific process all at once…and definitely good packing isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Making maximum use of minimum space…it’s the very basis of the logistics industry. Now let me not get into the technicalities of that.

For me packing also is a thinkfest. Once the picture is set and everything is mentally packed……I don’t need to use my brain…….just switch on some good music…shut my door….and pack away to glory and ruminate on the intricacies of my life. Some people may feel that being extremely methodical like this is probably an OCD for neatness. I guess to be honest maybe I have a thing for cleaning up and tidying things…but something which is not socially disruptive and does n harm to anyone need not be offensive to others.

In retrospect, I wish I were as neat in my personal life as well and clear up the emotional clutter I cling to. I wish I could for real clean up, mop up, and finally move on.Ah! What I would give for it to percolate down to my inner self…this need to pack up and move…has its own merits i'd say...

Monday, June 30, 2008

WRITER'S BLOCK.....NAAAAAH!!!!





writer's block...........nopes just motivation block........now this is a much worse state of limbo...........its like you are stuck in a nice slushy swamp which is just calf high........and you are so comfortable in that squelchy goooo.....thats you just feel like lying there and not do anything about it...........i've always fantasized about those mud baths of natural multaani mitti they give u in kerela ....with ur whole body dipped in that smooth mud........all slippery and slidy...........

maybe this is like that.I am stuck in a squelchy slippery writer's motivation block.........not the lack of topics...........but the lack of motivation to write about them........

i guess i need you to jog me out of it..........lets see who is willing :D

probably someone who reads my blog regulary(and thats so few people.....ssshhhhhhh........dont tell that anyone or they will think that i am unpopular).

well waiting

waiting for someone to kick me out of this involuntary state of lethargy...

Sunday, June 22, 2008

GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE( a sneak peek)...a must read to understand and appreciate the beauty of Kanpur's All Soul's Memorial Chruch made in gothic style

Gothic architecture is a style of architecture which flourished during the high and late medieval period. It evolved from Romanesque architecture and was succeeded by Renaissance architecture.
Originating in 12th-century France and lasting into the 16th century, Gothic architecture was known during the period as "the French Style" (Opus Francigenum), with the term Gothic first appearing during the latter part of the Renaissance as a stylistic insult. Its characteristic features include the pointed arch, the ribbed vault and the flying buttress.



Gothic architecture is most familiar as the architecture of many of the great cathedrals, abbeys and parish churches of Europe. It is also the architecture of many castles, palaces, town halls, guild halls, universities, and to a less prominent extent, private dwellings.
It is in the great churches and cathedrals and in a number of civic buildings that the Gothic style was expressed most powerfully, its characteristics lending themselves to appeal to the emotions. A great number of ecclesiastical buildings remain from this period, of which even the smallest are often structures of architectural distinction while many of the larger churches are considered priceless works of art and are listed with UNESCO as World Heritage Sites. For this reason a study of Gothic architecture is largely a study of cathedrals and churches.
A series of Gothic revivals began in mid-18th century England, spread through 19th-century Europe and continued, largely for ecclesiastical and university structures, into the 20th century.


pointed arch, the ribbed vault, the ambulatory with radiating chapels


The structure of a typical Gothic cathedral



In Gothic architecture, a unique combination of existing technologies established the emergence of a new building style. Those technologies were the ogival or pointed arch, the ribbed vault, and the flying buttress
The Gothic style, when applied to an ecclesiastical building, emphasizes verticality and light. This appearance was achieved by the development of certain architectural features, which together provided an engineerical solution. The structural parts of the building ceased to be its solid walls, and became a stone skeleton comprised of clustered columns, pointed ribbed vaults and flying buttresses.



A Gothic cathedral or abbey was, prior to the 20th century, generally the landmark building in its town, rising high above all the domestic structures and often surmounted by one or more towers and pinnacles and perhaps tall spires.


Plan









Most Gothic churches, unless they are entitled chapels, are of the Latin cross (or "cruciform") plan, with a long nave making the body of the church, a transverse arm called the transept and beyond it, an extension which may be called the choir, chancel or presbytery. There are several regional variations on this plan.
The nave is generally flanked on either side by aisles, usually singly, but sometimes double. The nave is generally considerably taller than the aisles, having clerestorey windows which light the central space.
.
The eastern arm shows considerable diversity. In England it is generally long and may have two distinct sections, both choir and presbytery. It is often square ended or has a projecting Lady Chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary

Structure: the pointed arch

Origins

The defining characteristic of Gothic architecture is the pointed or ogival arch. Arches of this type were used in Islamic architecture before they were used structurally in European architecture, and are thought to have been the inspiration for their use in France, as at Autun Cathedral, which is otherwise stylistically Romanesque.
However, it appears that there was probably simultaneously a structural evolution towards the pointed arch, for the purpose of vaulting spaces of irregular plan, or to bring transverse vaults to the same height as diagonal vaults. This latter occurs at Durham Cathedral in the nave aisles in 1093. Pointed arches also occur extensively in Romanesque decorative blind arcading, where semi-circular arches overlap each other in a simple decorative pattern, and the points are accidental to the design.


Functions

The Gothic vault, unlike the semi-circular vault of Roman and Romanesque buildings, can be used to roof rectangular and irregularly shaped plans such as trapezoids. The other structural advantage is that the pointed arch channels the weight onto the bearing piers or columns at a steep angle. This enabled architects to raise vaults much higher than was possible in Romanesque architecture.
While, structurally, use of the pointed arch gave a greater flexibility to architectural form, it also gave Gothic architecture a very different visual character to Romanesque, the verticality suggesting an aspiration to Heaven.
In Gothic Architecture the pointed arch is used in every location where a vaulted shape is called for, both structural and decorative. Gothic openings such as doorways, windows, arcades and galleries have pointed arches. Gothic vaulting above spaces both large and small is usually supported by richly molded ribs.
Rows of pointed arches upon delicate shafts form a typical wall decoration known as blind arcading. Niches with pointed arches and containing statuary are a major external feature. The pointed arch lent itself to elaborate intersecting shapes which developed within window spaces into complex Gothic tracery forming the structural support of the large windows that are characteristic of the style.



Height



A characteristic of Gothic church architecture is its height, both real and proportional. A section of the main body of a Gothic church usually shows the nave as considerably taller than it is wide. In England the proportion is sometimes greater than 2:1, while the extreme is reached at Cologne Cathedral with a ratio of 3.6:1. The extreme of actual internal height was achieved at Beauvais Cathedral at 157' 6" (48 m).
Externally, towers and spires are characteristic of Gothic churches both great and small, the number and positioning being one of the greatest variables in Gothic architecture. In Italy, the tower, if present, is almost always detached from the building, as at Florence Cathedral, and is often from an earlier structure. In France and Spain, two towers on the front is the norm. In England, Germany and Scandinavia this is often the arrangement, but an English cathedral may also be surmounted by an enormous tower at the crossing. Smaller churches usually have just one tower, but this may also be the case at larger buildings, such as Salisbury cathedral or Ulm Minster, which has the tallest spire in the world,] slightly exceeding that of Lincoln Cathedral, the tallest which was actually completed during the medieval period, at 527 feet (160 m).



Vertical emphasis

The pointed arch lends itself to a suggestion of height. This appearance is characteristically further enhanced by both the architectural features and the decoration of the building.
On the exterior, the verticality is emphasised in a major way by the towers and spires and in a lesser way by strongly projecting vertical buttresses, by narrow half-columns called attached shafts which often pass through several storeys of the building, by long narrow windows, vertical mouldings around doors and figurative sculpture which emphasises the vertical and is often attenuated. The roofline, gable ends, buttresses and other parts of the building are often terminated by small pinnacles, Milan Cathedral being an extreme example in the use of this form of decoration.
On the interior of the building attached shafts often sweep unbroken from floor to ceiling and meet the ribs of the vault, like a tall tree spreading into branches. The verticals are generally repeated in the treatment of the windows and wall surfaces.




Light

One of the most distinctive characteristics of Gothic architecture is the expansive area of the windows as at Sainte Chapelle and the very large size of many individual windows, as at Gloucester Cathedral and Milan Cathedral. The increase in size between windows of the Romanesque and Gothic periods is related to the use of the ribbed vault, and in particular, the pointed ribbed vault which channeled the weight to a supporting shaft with less outward thrust than a semicircular vault. Walls did not need to be so weighty.
A further development was the flying buttress which arched externally from the springing of the vault across the roof of the aisle to a large buttress pier projecting well beyond the line of the external wall. These piers were often surmounted by a pinnacle or statue, further adding to the downward weight, and counteracting the outward thrust of the vault and buttress arch.
The internal columns of the arcade with their attached shafts, the ribs of the vault and the flying buttresses, with their associated vertical buttresses jutting at right-angles to the building, created a stone skeleton. Between these parts, the walls and the infill of the vaults could be of lighter construction. Between the narrow buttresses, the walls could be opened up into large windows.
Through the Gothic period, due to the versatility of the pointed arch, the structure of Gothic windows developed from simple openings to immensely rich and decorative sculptural designs. The windows were very often filled with stained glass which added a dimension of colour to the light within the building, as well as providing a medium for figurative and narrative art.




Majesty


The facade of a large church or cathedral, often referred to as the West Front, is generally designed to create a powerful impression on the approaching worshipper, demonstrating both the might of God, and the might of the institution that it represents. One of the best known and most typical of such facades is that of Notre Dame de Paris.
Central to the facade is the main portal, often flanked by additional doors. In the arch of the door, the tympanum, is often a significant piece of sculpture, most frequently Christ in Majesty and Judgment Day. If there is a central door jamb or a tremeu, then it frequently bears a statue of the Madonna and Child. There may be much other carving, often of figures in niches set into the mouldings around the portals, or in sculptural screens extending across the facade.
In the centre of the middle level of the facade, there is a large window, which in countries other than England and Belgium, is generally a rose window like that at Reims Cathedral. The gable above this is usually richly decorated with arcading or sculpture, or in the case of Italy, may be decorated, with the rest of the facade, with polychrome marble and mosaic, as at Orvieto Cathedral


Basic shapes of Gothic arches and stylistic character

The way in which the pointed arch was drafted and utilised developed throughout the Gothic period. There were fairly clear stages of development, which did not, however, progress at the same rate, or in the same way in every country. Moreover, the names used to define various periods or styles within the Gothic differs from country to country.


Lancet arch




The simplest shape is the long opening with a pointed arch known in England as the lancet. Lancet openings are often grouped, usually as a cluster of three or five. Lancet openings may be very narrow and steeply pointed.



Equilateral arch



Many Gothic openings are based upon the equilateral form. In other words, when the arch is drafted, the radius is exactly the width of the opening and the centre of each arch coincides with the point from which the opposite arch springs. This makes the arch higher in relation to its width than a semi-circular arch which is exactly half as high as it is wide.
The Equilateral Arch gives a wide opening of satisfying proportion useful for doorways, decorative arcades and big windows.
The Equilateral Arch lends itself to filling with tracery of simple equilateral, circular and semi-circular forms. The type of tracery that evolved to fill these spaces is known in England as Geometric Decorated Gothic and can be seen to splendid effect at many English and French Cathedrals, notably Lincoln and Notre Dame in Paris. Windows of complex design and of three or more lights or vertical sections, are often designed by overlapping two or more equilateral arches.


Flamboyant arch



The Flamboyant Arch is one that is drafted from four points, the upper part of each main arc turning upwards into a smaller arc and meeting at a sharp, flame-like point. These arches create a rich and lively effect when used for window tracery and surface decoration. The form is structurally weak and has very rarely been used for large openings except when contained within a larger and more stable arch. It is not employed at all for vaulting.
Doorways surmounted by Flamboyant mouldings are very common in both ecclesiastical and domestic architecture in France. They are much rarer in England.


Depressed arch




The Depressed or four-centred arch is much wider than its height and gives the visual effect of having been flattened under pressure. Its structure is achieved by drafting two arcs which rise steeply from each springing point on a small radius and then turn into two arches with a wide radius and much lower springing point.
This type of arch, when employed as a window opening, lends itself to very wide spaces, provided it is adequately supported by many narrow vertical shafts. These are often further braced by horizontal transoms. The overall effect produces a grid-like appearance of regular, delicate, rectangular forms with an emphasis on the perpendicular. It is also employed as a wall decoration in which arcade and window openings form part of the whole decorative surface.
The style, known as Perpendicular, that evolved from this treatment is specific to England, although very similar to contemporary Spanish style in particular, and was employed to great effect through the 15th century and first half of the 16th as Renaissance styles were much slower to arrive in England than in Italy and France.

Symbolism and ornamentation



The Gothic cathedral represented the universe in microcosm and each architectural concept, including the loftiness and huge dimensions of the structure, were intended to convey a theological message: the great glory of God. The building becomes a microcosm in two ways. Firstly, the mathematical and geometrical nature of the construction is an image of the orderly universe, in which an underlying rationality and logic can be perceived.
Secondly, the statues, sculptural decoration, stained glass and murals incorporate the essence of creation in depictions of the Labours of the Months and the Zodiac and sacred history from the Old and New Testaments and Lives of the Saints, as well as reference to the eternal in the Last Judgment and Coronation of the Virgin.




The decorative schemes usually incorporated Biblical stories, emphasizing visual typological allegories between Old Testament prophecy and the New Testament.
Many churches were very richly decorated, both inside and out. Sculpture and architectural details were often bright with coloured paint of which traces remain at the Cathedral of Chartres. Wooden ceilings and panelling were usually brightly coloured. Sometimes the stone columns of the nave were painted, and the panels in decorative wall arcading contained narratives or figures of saints. These have rarely remained intact, but may be seen at the Chapterhouse of Westminster Abbey.
Some important Gothic churches could be severely simple such as the Basilica of Mary Magdalene in Saint-Maximin, Provence where the local traditions of the sober, massive, Romanesque architecture were still strong.


GLOSSARY



ambulatory - circular aisle which wraps around the apse.


apse - (Lat. apsis, an arch) The semicircular or polygonal termination to the choir or aisles of a church. See cathedral and diagram.

arch - the pointed arch is widely regarded as the main identifiable feature of Gothic architecture (distinct from the round arch of the Romanesque period). The most common Gothic arches are the Lancet, Equilateral and Ogee.

boss - highly decorated carving found in ceilings, used to conceal the breaks in vault work.

buttress - a mass of stone built up to support a wall, usually necessary to strengthen those of great height.flying buttress - a buttress arched over at the top to engage with a main wall. A principal feature of Gothic architecture, lending strength and solidity to the main structure.


fan tracery vaulting - a system of ceiling vaulting with all ribs having the same curve, resembling the folds of a fan.

clerestory - 'clear story,' the upper story of a church where it rises above the aisle roof. Window openings, usually of stained glass, allow extra light into the interior.

cloister (Lat. claustrum) - an inner courtyard or central square closed by the four sides of a monastery sometimes situated on the south side of a cathedral. The walkway, or ambulatory, is usually protected by a roof supported by columns.


cinquefoil - in tracery, having five pendants in a circular ring; usually applied to windows and panels.

chancel - part of the altar for the clergy or choir, bordered by railings.

chapels - the recesses on the sides of aisles in cathedrals and abbey churches. Sometimes known as chantries.

Chapter House - administrative center of a cathedral, traditionally organized for overseeing construction.

choir - the area of the main altar where services are sung, located between the crossing and the apse.


choir screen - decorated screen of wood or stone separating the choir from the rest of the cathedral

cathedral - (cathedra, seat or throne) the principal church of a province or diocese, where the throne of the bishop is placed. For reasons lost to time and tradition, a cathedral always faces west - toward the setting sun. The altar is placed at the east end. The main body, or nave, of the cathedral is usually divided into one main and two side aisles. These lead up to the north and south transepts, or arms of the cross, the shape in which a cathedral is usually set out



mullions - stone piers dividing a window into two or more lights.



nave (Lt. a ship) - the main body of a church or cathedral. Sometimes defined as the central aisle only.

newel - the supporting upright pillar around which winding steps, or winders, are supported; typically found in cathedral and castle architecture of the Middle Ages.


niche (Fr. a nest) - a recess in a wall for the reception of a statue.


oculus - a small circular or eye-shaped window

porch - a projecting, enclosed doorway, usually a side entrance located at the north and south transepts of a cathedral.

tracery - ornamental stonework most often seen supporting window glass in the form of trifoils and cinquefoils. Sometimes used merely as decoration on panels and moldings and then called 'blind' tracery

transept - in cathedral architecture, the north and south projections or "arms" of the cross. See porch, cathedral.


vault - an arched ceiling.
rose window.



Saturday, June 21, 2008

ONE OF THE HISTORICAL OFFERINGS OF KANPUR




Kanpur Memorial Church, popularly known as All Soul's Cathedral is an impressive architectural edifice that was constructed in 1875 to commemorate the courage and valor of the British troops who surrendered their lives in the tumultuous Sepoy Mutiny of 1857.



Walter Granville, an erstwhile architect of East Bengal Railway, was responsible for the exquisite Lombardy Gothic architecture of the church. The building is made up of vibrant red sandstone bricks adorned in multi-colored hues.



The interior of the church houses the heartbreaking memorial tables, epitaphs and monuments that pay a tribute to those soldiers who sacrificed their lives for their country. They also narrate the shattered hopes and dreams of the young whose life ended even before it had properly taken off.the alter has miniature gothic columns interspaced with marble slabs engraved with the names of all those who died during the sepoy mutiny.




The Kanpur Memorial Church recounts the unfortunate massacre of the Kanpur Barracks and the betrayal of patriotic Nana Sahib, nicknamed " The Butcher of Cawnpore". A separate enclosure in the eastern extremity of the church contains the memorial garden and separated from the main building by an exquisitely carved and striking in appearance Gothic screen.



At the center of the church stands a beautiful figurine of an angel, designed by the eminent Baron Carlo Marochetti.
Also a striking feature commmon to the gothic architecture period is the Rose.



Post -independence statue and the screen have been relocated here from Kanpur’s famous Municipal Gardens near the Bibighar well. Some of the ancient graves are intriguing with interesting inscriptions.

The British under Commander Hugh Wheeler retreated into a shallow earth entrenchment in the cantonment area, later known in history as `wheeler’s entrenchment’. The English garrison surrendered in the last week of June 1857 on terms of safe passage to Allahabad. But when on the morning of 27th June, the soldiers along with the women and children were about to embark into the boats at Sati Chaura Ghat, fighting broke out and most of the men were killed. The survivors, women and children were rescued who were imprisoned into the Savada Kothi and later shifted to Bibighar in the `cantonment magistrates’ compound. But when it became clear the relieving forces under General Havelock were nearing the city and defeat was inevitable, the captives-all women and children, were massacred and their dismembered bodies buried in the well of the compound on 15th July 1857.




The Bibighar was dismantled by the British and reoccupation of Kanpur and a `memorial railing and a cross’ raised at the site of the well. The well is now bricked over. Only remains of a circular ridge survive, which can be still seen at the Nana Rao Park.



The Kanpur Memorial Church – `The all soul cathedral’ was raised in honor of the fallen at the north-east corner of Wheeler’s entrenchment in 1862 by the British.



The marble gothic screen with famous `mournful seraph’ was transferred to the churchyard of All Souls church after independence in 1947, and in its place a bust of Tantiya Tope installed as Nana Rao Park.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

SWEET REMEMBRANCE




Last night I stayed up and watched City of Angels after a long time. It was one of those movies I saw for the first time and felt an instant bonding with. One of those movies you just see for the first time and go and buy an original CD promptly. I don’t love that movie because of the romance…… it’s the realism in it that attracts me…the honesty and beauty of Love. Love at its purest form. We have always given form to love and felt that love can never be felt if there isn’t a form to support it…….that’s what Maggie felt because of her human form…but Seth did love even before he became human…

He gave it all up…free will…he said. And for what….just because Maggie wanted to feel. its not that one cannot feel love without form…we aren’t evolved enough to accept a love without form. This doesn’t mean that there doesn’t exist a love…like that. instant recognition isn’t just a chemical reaction that one would call…attraction…it goes beyond that…a familiarity and a recognition…a feeling of being there….of having known that person…or maybe that life…and soul.

I’ve always loved this explanation best. Otherwise how would you explain totally rational human beings falling in love with people who are a total antithesis of what they thought would be perfect for them… some incredibly beautiful person marrying and loving genuinely someone who isn’t beautiful. at times such as these we marvel at love calling it blind …if we dig a little deeper we will see its not love that is blind…its that we have become all seeing in that instant.

Like Seth I completely understand what it means to just have that recognition…just once. To be there n see just maybe once. Feel maybe once…that powerful soul defining emotion. I call it an emotion because our language isn’t equipped enough for defining something so surreal. I don’t know…why I feel so. Maybe this was the instant recognition I got from the movie. a slight jolt to my soul that I have been there…before. in that cataclysmic soul shattering moment of instant recognition…which permeated my soul in such a way…that its written in my very gene code. a mark…a memory I have carried with me down the ages….for lives.

The strange thing is that when I saw the movie I felt an innate happiness. People I’ve recommended the movie to see…have deemed it as a sad movie……but I don’t know…why in this movie and in others like…

Sweet November……Message in the Bottle……I have felt nothing but a warmth derived from familiarity. Let’s just say death has been an old friend…never an enemy. I know many would find this post insane and the midnight mutterings of a mad woman. But its exactly 2:15a.m and as I write this down…I have never been more alive or human…someday I hope I feel that recognition again…or maybe I already have... my share of that feeling …And those of you out there…who know what I mean…will smile and bask in that warm glow…or maybe just the remembrance.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

ENERGY SAVING ----SMALL STEPS THE BLACKLE WAY

IF BLACKLE CAN SAVE ENERGY..........




.....WHY CANT BLOGGING COMMUNITIES??

INFACT IF THERE ARE ANY DARK TEMPLATES WE CAN USE AS BLOGGERS.....then why dont we?.............ON AN AVERAGE I SPEND APPROXIMATELY 2-3 HOURS EVERYDAY VIEWING BLOGS....AND READING STUFF ON THE INTERNET...........IMAGINE.............JUST IMAGINE.........IF EVERY BLOGGER IN THE BLOOGING LANDSCAPE USES A DARK TEMPLATE....
AND IF OUR DESKTOP BACKGROUNDS ARE DARK...


I KNOW IT WOULD BE A SMALL STEP........BUT ONE HAS GOT TO START SOMEWHERE


Saturday, June 14, 2008

THE TRADEMARK OF A TRUE REBEL

One isn’t always a rebel in the most obvious way of going against the rules. The rules are meant to be broken a pseudo rebel might say. A true rebel isn’t one without logic or cause. He or she will only go the anti way when they have a reason to do so. a deviation from what they might find comfortable and convenient. For example if one likes outdoorsy dressing they might wear a pair of khakis Jeff Corwin style and still have the equanimity to carry it off in the dining hall of the Ritz.

A rebel will try to make his own space truly his own. I don’t think that’s so bad …is it? Doesn’t everyone have a right to individuality.isnt that the first right we are born with? We do carry the genes of the generations before us but that doesn’t rule out the need to have your own niche. and if someone needs to break a few rules to get that space I feel its perfectly justified.

However please do not confuse what I mean by your own niche with something that hurts other individuals and society at large. If you are a psychopath who finds his salvation in perpetration of misery to humankind…I don’t think that kind of space to do what you want is justified. Your niche should be your own…it should not over lap with anyone else’s and shouldn’t encroach on someone else’ private space too. for example if someone finds salvation in traveling and living wild…like a nomad…I’d say Mr. Rolling Stone has every right to do so as long as his wanderlust doesn’t hurt anyone else.

The best rebel is the quiet rebel. One who goes about his business not bothering about others and about the impact his actions might have on others.Offlate I feel that our generation is getting traits of the original rebel in many aspects of his life. for example a total disgust with the political systems of the world and their inability to provide good governance is turning most of the youth from “democratic” and “liberal” to now…”not political”.
Religion too nowadays doesn’t matter. In my own religion I see total despair and the flock is turning away from the church gradually. The reasons might be many from inability of the church to capture the attention of their flock, disintegrating family values, lack of time for religion etc……
People are more inclined to becoming “spiritual” than religious. Many people don’t any longer believe in the concept of God. It’s just the mono concept of the eternal “I”…or more popularly right actions or karma…and ever-present temptation or Maya. To an age group totally educated and governed by logic, a total negation of it will lead to a feeling or surrealism which is as difficult to believe as the existence of Gnomes and Santa Claus.

It is with mixed feelings that I receive these changes. If this was natural rebelliousness derived from a need to put correct the wrong being done, it would be well received. But that is not so. It’s a rebelliousness derived from disgust of the present condition and despair that it will ever change for the better. Its alienation …an indifference to the situation at hand. People are revolting no more to change the current faulty situation but to escape it without having to get embroiled in controversy. it shows a singular lack of concern at large--- a very dangerous situation because individual motives have given rise to now what is called selfish motive…

One could argue that this is what rebellion is. It’s the disregard of all else but the self…and the personal space. However I did say earlier…it cannot be at the cost of others.

FREEDOM IS NEAR

















The invisible bonds strain but hold fast still
But deep in the recess of my soul
That little fire burns still
It stays reflected in my eyes till eternity
That twinkling smile of mirth at our predicament
Of how we take this world so seriously
Of all our cares and material wealth
The transitory joys and sorrows…that plague us so



REFRAIN

I believe in destiny
It was meant to be
Those bonds will break someday
But that twinkling smile shall remain
Will tell tales untold…of ages gone
Of battles won and lost
All in the blink of an eye
That passed like a million ages
It will tell of love and patience



To those who know…
And have been there…
They shall know…
This is just the interim
Just the trial ground
Just the time to stand straining on the outside
And laughing with merriment on the inside
At the inevitability of this freedom



It’s the feel of the sun on your face after days of darkness
It’s the smell of the rain on the air after the very memory of it is parched
Tis manna from heaven
If ever a heaven existed.
It’s indescribable
And everyone who tastes of that fountain,
Shall want nothing more…no more



Why can’t everyone see the light?
The joy that I see…the unbearably beautiful quest
The most desirable pleasure cannot compete with
The greatest richness beyond all worldly paradise
It’s no more surreal
But within a hands reach
Just there waiting to be clenched, devoured and consumed
Oh! The pleasure of consuming and being consumed

Monday, June 9, 2008

THE WORLD IS MY COFFEE CUP (thought i'd do something for my 100th post.......just about one of my passions...coffeeholic special!!)





No doubt sipping a strong cup of coffee can help do away with drowsiness, but can the aroma of the beverage also perform the same task? Well, Japanese scientists say yes, it may.

Dr Yoshinori Masuo of the National Institute of Industrial Science in Japan carried out tests on sleep-starved rats, and found the aroma-boosted genes that produce chemicals in the brain to fight fatigue and sleep deprivation.

He said that the aroma of coffee also boosted genes that control anxiety, and made the rats less stressed.

"Many of the genes have human equivalents," the Mirror quoted him as saying.

Dr. Masuo revealed that his team was planning studies to identify the chemicals in coffee aroma that cause such effects.

He said that such research efforts might give rise to a potential new approach to liven up tired workers who would not have time for a coffee




JUST IMAGINE WHAT THAT WOULD DO TO THE WORLD OF COFFEE??? BOTH COFFEE LOVERS AND BUYERS....THE COFFEE COMPANIES............THERE MIGHT COME A DAY WHEN YOU HAVE COFFEE INTERACTIVE SITES WITH SMELL RELEASERS......SO GET READY TO GET THE SMELL OF FRESHLY BREWED COFFEE........AS U PERUSE YOUR MAIL EARLY IN THE MORNING...AND NO HASSLES OF SWITCHING ON THE PERCOLATER.......


Thought i'd share some of my favourite coffee recipes with you guys.......










Cafe Au Lait ( Coffee with Milk )
Ingredients:
1 c Milk
1 c Light cream
3 tb Instant coffee
2 c Boiling water
How To:
Over low heat or in double boiler, heat milk and cream till hot. Meanwhile, dissolve coffee
in boiling water. Before serving, beat milk mixture with rotary beater-till foamy. Pour milk
mixture into one warmed pitcher or server, and coffee in another. To serve: Fill cups from
both pitchers at the same time, making the streams meet en route. Makes 6 servings.




Buttered Rum Coffee
Ingredients:
1/3 c Ground coffee
1/4 ts Freshly ground nutmeg
1 1/4 ts Rum extract
1/8 ts Liquid butter flavouring
How To:
Place coffee and nutmeg in a blender or food processor fitted with a steel blade. In a cup,
combine remaining ingredients. With processor running, add flavorings. Stop processor
and scrape sides of container with a spatula. Process 10 seconds longer. Store in a
refrigerator. Yields: Mix for eight 6-ounce servings





Black Forest Coffee
Ingredients:
6 oz Fresh brewed coffee
2 tb Chocolate syrup
1 tb Maraschino cherry juice
Whipped cream
Shaved chocolate/chips
Maraschino cherries
How To:
Combine coffee, chocolate syrup, and cherry juice in a cup; mix well. Top with whipped
cream, chocolate shavings and a cherry.





Arabian Coffee
Ingredients:
1/2 litre (about 1 pint) water
3 tablespoons coffee
3 tablespoons (or more) sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon Cardamom
1 teaspoon vanilla or vanilla sugar
How To:
Mix all ingredients in a saucepan and heat until foam gathers on top. Do not pass through
a filter. Stir it up before you serve it.



Cafe Cappuccino
Ingredients:
1/2 c Instant coffee
3/4 c Sugar
1 c Nonfat dry milk
1/2 ts Dried orange peel
How To:
Crush in mortar and pestle
Use 2 T. for each cup of hot water



Cafe Con Miel
Ingredients:
2 c Prepared coffee, (fresh, instant, or decaf)
1/2 c Milk
4 tb HONEY, more or less to taste
1/8 ts Cinnamon
Dash nutmeg or allspice
Dash vanilla
How To:
Heat ingredients in a saucepan, but do not boil. Stir well to combine. Serve as a light
dessert.


Cafe De Ola
Ingredients:
8 c Water
2 sm Cinnamon sticks
3 Whole cloves
4 oz Dark brown sugar
1 Square semisweet chocolate or Mexican chocolate
4 oz Ground coffee
How To:
Bring the water to a boil, then add the cinnamon, cloves, sugar, and chocolate. When the
liquid comes to a boil again, skim off any foam. Reduce the heat to low and make sure the
liquid does not boil. Add the coffee, and let it steep for 5 minutes. Serve the coffee in an
earthenware pot with a ladle.





Cafe' Mexicano
Ingredients:
1 oz Coffee liqueur
1 ts Chocolate syrup
1 ea Hot coffee
1/2 oz Brandy
1 ea Dash ground cinnamon
1 ea Sweetened whipped cream
How To:
Combine coffee liqueur, brandy, chocolate syrup and cinnamon in a coffee cup or mug. Fill
to the top with hot coffee. Top with whipped cream.




Cafe Royale
Ingredients:
3/4 c Hot Strong Coffee
4 ts Brandy
1 Sugar Cube
How To:
Pour coffee into warmed mug. Float 2 teaspoons brandy on coffee. Put remaining 2
teaspoons brandy into a tablespoon with sugar cube. Warm spoon over hot coffee. With a
match, carefully ignite brandy in teaspoon. Slowly lower spoon into coffee to ignite floating
brandy. Wait 1 minute after flame has died before drinking.




Cafe Vienna Look-alike
Ingredients:
1/2 c Instant coffee
2/3 c Sugar
2/3 c Non-fat dry milk
1/2 ts Cinnamon
1 pn Cloves
1 pn Allspice
1 pn Nutmeg
How To:
Blend in blender until very fine powder. Use 2 teaspoons per cup




Cappuccino Shake
Ingredients:
1 c Skim milk
1 1/2 ts Instant coffee
2 pk artificial sweetener
2 dr Brandy or rum flavouring
1 ds Cinnamon
How To:
In a blender, combine milk, coffee, sweetener and extract. Blend until coffee is dissolved.
Serve with a dash of cinnamon. For a hot drink, pour into a mug and heat in a microwave.





Chocolate Almond Coffee
Ingredients:
1/3 c Ground coffee
¼ ts Freshly ground nutmeg
½ ts Chocolate extract
½ ts Almond extract
¼ c Toasted almonds, chopped
How To:
Process nutmeg and coffee, add extracts. Process 10 seconds longer. Place in bowl and stir
in almonds. Store in refrigerator. Makes 8 six ounce servings. To brew: Place mix in filter
of an automatic drip coffee maker. Add 6 cups water and brew



Chocolate Coffee
Ingredients:
2 tb Instant coffee
1/4 c Sugar
1 ds Salt
1 oz Squares unsweetened chocolate
1 c Water
3 c Milk
Whipped cream
How To:
In saucepan combine coffee, sugar, salt, chocolate, and water; stir over low heat until
chocolate has melted. Simmer 4 minutes, stirring constantly. Gradually add milk, stirring
constantly until heated. When piping hot, remove from heat and beat with rotary beater
until mixture is frothy. Pour into cups and sail a dollop of whipped cream on the surface of
each. Makes 6 servings.



Creamy Iced Coffee
Ingredients:
1 c Chilled brewed coffee, made double-strength
2 tb Confectioners' sugar (rounded tablespoons)
3 c Chopped ice
How To:
Combine the coffee, sugar, and ice, and blend until creamy.




Creamy Irish Coffee
Ingredients:
4 c Strong fresh coffee
1/4 c Sugar
1/2 c Irish whiskey
1 c whipping cream
2 tb Sugar
2 tb Irish whiskey
How To:
Place 4 cups of strong fresh coffee in a saucepan with 1/4 cup of sugar, or to taste. Add 1/2
cup Irish Whiskey and heat thoroughly but do not boil. (Scotch, Bourbon or other
whiskeys could be used.) Meanwhile whip 1 cup whipping cream until light. Beat in 2 tb
each of sugar and Irish whiskey. Pour coffee into mugs or goblets and pipe or spoon
flavoured cream on top.




Flavoured Coffees (mocha)
Ingredients:
1/4 c Powder non-dairy creamer
1/3 c Sugar
2 tb Cocoa
1/4 c Dry instant coffee
How To:
Place all ingredients in mixer, beat at high until well blended. Mix 1 & 1/2 TB mix w/ 3/4
cup hot water. Store in air tight jar.




Homemade Coffee Liqueur
Ingredients:
4 c Sugar
1/2 c Instant coffee
3 c ;Water
1/4 ts Salt
1 1/2 c Vodka, high-proof
3 tb Vanilla
How To:
Combine sugar and water; boil till sugar dissolves. Reduce heat to simmer & simmer 1
hour. LET COOL. Stir in vodka & vanilla. Pour up.

Friday, June 6, 2008

TIS MANNA TO THE WEARY SOUL

today is a bad night in a series of bad nights.Ive tried everything from reading two novels back to back...watching my favourite animation movie Ratatouville.........then watchign two seasons of Friends till my eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets...........when i finally decided to drag my ass to the computer table and hog a little of internet space....

a few days before i had capped all of the bad nights ive ever had........and that was because it was an axceptionally hot night.........i walked the passageway from my room to the dining space the entire night.....and went and walked in my lawn from 4:30 am till 7?30 am..........one long walk fest..........

but today i dont know how long i'll be here too coz the mosquitoes are feasting off my legs..........*somebody must have left the doors open at dusk*.........


anyway...

i wonder whats the perfect thing to do to fall asleep........immediately when the head hits the pillow........
never had that luck with me.......as my mum calls it.......'the sleep of the just'....infact whenever im dog tired i tend to stay up and edgy all night.......the only time ive slept like a log is when i was drugged with sleeping draughts during my covalescence after my road accident.............but thats not an option anymore........


huh! what i'd give for some good hours of dreamless sleep at night.......what i would give not to think and remember anything in my life anymore...........just a blissful blank.......

Monday, May 26, 2008

KITKAT UPDATE

HE IS SO SHY...........ITS A BOY!!!!!

KITKAT....FINALLY MAKES AN APPEARANCE AGAIN

MISTRESS OF FALL

This sure is ‘dear diary’ stuff especially it literally happens to make me the ‘butt’ of many a joke which happens to be based on my rear end. And instead of relegating those to the back or my mind I have decided to take it head on …mostly like a bull by the horns. Wow! That sure sounds like a tough call and also a contradiction of sorts because I’m hardly a ‘tough call’ person unless I am pushed to make a choice between a deep abyss and an equally deep dark sea.

Without much ado here I go…people often recount in their diary the number times they kissed…the number of shoes they bought… the number of boy friends or girl friends they had…etc…eh!! Weighty emotional and psychologically motivating stuff…however, I am going to recount in this “dear diary” episode the times I fell down…oh! Not in love…but literally…

I am quite huge, i'm told, (at almost 5feet 8 inches and definitely not lean) and even though I should look ungainly…I don’t feel I am…besides the tricky part about being tall is …you can test if you are ungainly or not if you cannot dance…and I dance pretty well… (Good hand leg co-ordination, I use this to console myself not very successfully).However this factor of my height isn’t all that relevant to my come-a-cropper history, as much as I would like to pretend.

It all started with when I was a little baby. I suppose…when I used to fall a lot and mum thought it was cute to call me “tootsie”…THAT HOWEVER WASN’T ALL THAT CUTE WHEN I GREW UP…..thankfully it got amended to Toto…which is tolerable if not totally acceptable.

Early days yet…I remember I must have been a 3 or 4 year old baby…and my mum was sorting out the linen which intrigued me a lot and looked like a whole lot of nappies, primarily being white ( she has this fixation for white bed sheets leaving the bed covers colored as a sop to other people who liked variation….which unfortunately I must say has gotten transferred genetically to me too)…so I was poking my head into this giant chest of a thing that could have housed 4 of me at least besides the linen, chortling away merrily playing out the phrase ‘bottoms up’ to the ‘t’.Then suddenly I noticed a glossy Chinese umbrella stacked against the lid in an awkward position and thought … ‘why is the stupid thing not straight lying down instead of like that’. Being a neat freak from those early days…I pulled it straight …and to my consternation, Wham!!! The lid fell right on my head (which my mum calls a nut till date coz nothing happened).so half in and half out I got my first lesson in gymnastics trying to gyrate myself out from under the lid. Hearing the thud my mum came to investigate and to her horror saw what she saw as a beheaded tootsie…but when she lifted the lid I was as good as new …minus even a slight scratch from my skirmish. Unfortunately whenever this tale was told in social circles I came out more the ‘poke nose’ than the wonder baby. I found peace finally, when the name tootsie and the tale were permanently buried.

Then there was this incident when I had come to a cultural programme hosted in Merchant’s Chamber in Kanpur.Ours being an only girl’s school we were quite thrilled to get to see other students (pimple faced guys to be precise …the perfect romantic prince charming for 12 year olds) from other schools. You know what the say about girls from the convents…well we epitomized it all…gauche, shy, timid…and what not…Me and my three girl friends decided to dress up for the occasion and went to my friends place …off went the uniforms and on went the long midi skirts which were the height of fashion in those days (oh!! How I wish we had stuck to our uniforms... skirts which are a regulation 6 fingers above the knee) and not to miss the block high heels. I felt like a princess…only the end wasn’t as stately. My skirt belonged to my friend’s elder sister since I was a lot taller than her…and it was a lot longer for me. Hence I had to lift it up to let my twinkle toes show. Our seats were in the balcony squashed between a co-ed school and a pure boy’s school. In an attempt to walk straight I didn’t look at the carpeted floor and as you can probably imagine I fell…not on the floor as expected, but into the lap of one of the boys sitting there…and up I jumped up in the air like a shot…skirt and all….red faced ( I go really ruddy when I’m embarrassed).Only the guy stole my thunder as he went straight from pleasant pink to beetroot red in a space of five seconds flat. I stammered a shaky sorry and asked him of all the things whether I had broken his leg or something equally gauche to which he said with equal composure (or lack of it)…No! He was perfectly fine …
Like a tiny mouse I scuttled to my seat…but the evening was far from over for me or him and his friends kept on poking fun at him and making loud comments about how he got his first lap dance. Thank God I hadn’t started experimenting with make up then…or I would have had to deal with another embarrassment of being ‘over red’……my friends however thought that was the most ‘swell’ thing to happen…so romantic…it however did get me to be friends with the guy …my first from another school…I still am in touch with him and we have never really been able to live it down in our common friends circle…guess I was just glad of his sturdy size and that I didn’t have to bear the title of ‘bone breaker’ as well back then.

Then there was this funny incident when I had gone for a vacation to my maternal uncle’s place and he had taken us on a trip to the Hazaribagh Tiger Reserve. Three Kids and two couples.....My sister Deirdre (Pinky), brother Rohan and myself. I being the youngest used to tag along everywhere with them like a tail. Unfortunately I had a tail of my own trailing me…my falling or should I say failing luck!!!
Being in unchartered territory we decided to be brave and explore…the small narrow trail around the guest house in the reserve. We were walking single file…first Pinky then me and finally Rohan bringing up the rear. Suddenly we heard a commotion from behind …I could faintly make out my mum screaming something to me and as I turned my blood curdled and I froze stopping Rohan in his tracks. The hugest elephant( it looked huge from where I stood) I had ever seen…was pelting down the track at top speed…I don’t know what that can be for an elephant , but from my diminutive size it looked like mount Everest suddenly getting up and running to crush me almost at F1 speed. Just as suddenly as we froze all three started to run…unfortunately in single file…I was just following Pinky’s footsteps with terror in my heart and the thundering sound of death in my ears. Suddenly I didn’t see Pinky anymore and the next instant I knew I was lying face down in a ditch sprawled across her…and then a heavy weight was upon me squashing the breath out of me …and I thought…that was it…14 years of life squashed out of me like Heinz tomato ketchup…only then I saw the elephant supposedly crushing me, thunder past us with a happy mahout sitting atop. My elephant was Rohan!…we were a human sandwich.And I got to be the lettuce and mayonnaise while poor Pinky bore the brunt of it all with baldly scraped knees and elbows. It was ironical how afterwards we had to sit on the same elephant to go and take a ride to the waterhole to check out Tigers we never saw because they were supposed to be highly ‘Shy’ animals. I guess I don’t fall myself only but bring the falling luck to my companions too. So I guess Forewarned is forearmed…although I don’t know how that should really help.


Sometimes I’ve been the perpetrator of someone else falling…which is kind of sad for not everyone is blessed with a nice rear cushion to comfort the fall. This one is worth mentioning…
Once I went with my mother for vegetable shopping (haven’t told you all this but I have a fetish for neatly stacked fresh vegetables…which is why I used to accompany my mum on her shopping errands without the generally required bribes. I just love the smell of mint and glossy green chilies or capsicum…and the maroons of beetroot and onions…to me its like a palette of color and a bouquet of smells…each beautifully combined with each other to make the truly exotic).She was bending over and examining cabbages stacked up at in one vendors shop and told me to keep watch for any straying cyclist or cow coming too close. I as usual was high on the veggie smells that to me can beat the axe effect anyday.
A little commotion and I looked behind to see this big brambly bull charging at us. I screamed to my mother who turned in haste and fell into the pile of cabbages and couldn’t get up for they kept rolling under her. The bull passed by without even sniffing disdainfully at us. What an anticlimax!!!…the poor vendor came to my mum’s rescue because I couldn’t manage to pull her up by myself. She offered to pay for the damage done…which were several broken and split cabbages…but manfully he was more concerned about her wellbeing…I ofcourse got a earful for snickering in the beginning.
Fortunately or unfortunately I went through the same situation some years later… the cabbages replaced with some really hard potatoes and a bull replaced with a very pregnant cow that could barely sidle past me…let alone butt me. One thing however remained constant…the snickering!!!! Ofcourse this time it wasn’t me but the vegetable vendors who found the sight of my ungainly sprawled figure pretty amusing…but no harm…by then with my history of falls I had learnt to laugh at myself.

I guess that was preparation for the mother of them all. I wasn’t even young or small then…and the embarrassment was manifold which is why I’ve never revisited the scene of crime till today. It was in Post graduation second year when I was in Bhopal…had purchased my new Action Lisa shoes which were the craze then…had gone out for lunch with mum and dad to the restaurant Kwality on New Market. Only I didn’t get to lunch there….because as soon as I entered the restaurant head held high regally…I missed the small step inside the door and was measuring the floor to the reception desk…sprawled literally like one of those pilgrims who goes for darshan at the siddhi vinayak (only they do it voluntarily and here I was paying homage to a receptionist who was trying her very best to keep a straight concerned face).All the waiters came running to my rescue and a restaurant full of eyes were focused on me…refusing help like a passionate suffragette supporter, I got up with as much composure and poise I could muster. I turned to my mum and dad who were shell shocked …and said with a frigid civility that would have rivaled that of the Queen Mother’s had she been confronted by Hitler himself… ‘Let’s go…we can have lunch elsewhere’…thankfully mum decided to and we went out never to turn back again. I however was a nine years wonder for my parents after that and this anecdote was pulled out of the hat at many a dull party much to my chagrin. Never wore those Lisa shoes again…eventhough it wasn’t their fault, just my inability to see what’s right under my nose.

My personal favorite however is when I surfed and skated on potatoes and chicken to go and watch Bold and the Beautiful. It was a hot afternoon in Jalandhar…the year 2000, I think. I had my regulation 2nd bath of the day( 4 baths in summers and two in winters…I know I will cursed by all those water conservation activists…but dad did the good deed and installed showers in all my bathrooms in a move to sop his and of course my conscience about that matter) just before lunch…and being over enthusiastic in doing so splashed around a good deal. some of the water had escaped from the bathroom into the passageway between the bedrooms…
it was almost time for my favorite serial Bold and the Beautiful (which I thought pretty mature and mature in those days…was graduating from pimple faced guys straight to the peppered grey heads with hot bedroom eyes…who seemed to epitomize charm and suavity among men…you know what I mean…the veritable Richard Gere’s and Clooney’s of the world).I loaded my plate with the fare my mum had cooked ( not wanting to come back for second helpings) …chicken curry with my favorite roasted potatoes fried rice and fried veggies. In the haste not to miss even a second of it I rushed towards mum’s bedroom where the TV was, forgetting all the water in the passageway.
I would have put a ace skate board champion and a surfer to shame with that skid…plate glass of water and all I skidded into the bedroom…like a grand finale to a fantastic play. Only it wasn’t quite right…I was riding the potatoes and had the chicken curry and rice all over my front…and to add insult to injury my dog, Pepper sniffed me nonchalantly, and picked off a chicken breast literally off my breast…
Mum came running to see what had happened…and literally roared with laughter at the incongruity of the scene…me sitting on some fantastically squashed potatoes…plate and glass tossed aside and Pepper at my feet eating the chicken happily…while the title music for Bold and Beautiful belted form the TV…not so beautiful eh!!!!

Apart form that I kept up the tradition in many a place in Pune too….pulled down a whole shelf in Crossword with my flowing dupatta…….after which I decided not to “flow” so much…..confined myself to wearing jeans and T shirts while shopping in potentially dangerous places like Tussorie or any other china shop. I’ve also created new record highs of falling maximum number of times down the hostel stairway…a huge score of 6 times during two years… (Fortunately for me I’m well padded all over)…and the record of dropping my Nokia 6030(am ardent supporter of that model…due to its indestructible nature) from the fourth floor window while hanging out of it talking to my friends is virtually unbeatable. It was a nine days wonder to me too how that phone survived such a fall…only to be lost in a clumsy mix up while traveling in an Auto rickshaw. Neighbours envy owners pride…lucky guy who got it!

Nothing with me or which belongs to me can be ‘Breakable’…And yet I’ve always marveled how I am so good with washing china and not breaking even a single piece while mum just has to stand near for it to be jeopardized. I guess we share the fall misfortune………I with my person…and her rotten luck with china and glass.

Nevertheless I am the unparalleled queen of fall…with many a more embarrassing tale to relate…as the journey continues…falling from mules, falling from trees, falling into swimming pools…falling into shops, falling into laps… falling out of taxis…falling into gutters…falling off the be..................


TO BE CONTINUED....................

Monday, May 19, 2008

CONSUMED WITH COLLECTION ADDICTION

My biggest sin is that I am a compulsive collector. Let me give you a sneak peek into my room and its contents which will tell you why such a simple trait is a sin. I’ve been long trying to establish a reason for such a behavioral aberration as many would call it and came to the conclusion the answer to such questions lie in the past.

Oh No! Not my immediate past but the past lives past. Maybe I was a part of a civilization long gone which was routed out of existence due to severe deprivation, the dregs of which trickled down into my soul via generations. But then logically that wouldn’t be possible because if they went out with the light like some obscure race, then neither would I be in existence. So scrapping that line of thought I fantasize about being born during the dark ages which kind of fits because I am
A) A compulsive collector ( as if the world’s supplies are going to end the next minute….a veritable hoarder)
B) A supporter or emancipation…a hater of any form of repression…a rebel against authority ( I feel women can never be treated too well and yet believe they have a place of their own in society which they shouldn’t relinquish in the pursuit of the ultimate goal of a perceived equality)
C) I hate cumbersome clothes. ( I think that would be common to anyone )
D) Also I have this peculiar OCD for cleanliness. I just love cleaning things up …its like therapy to me. Maybe I was a maid in those times, or had some insufferable guilt that goes with being born in the Dark Ages, something sinister and (gleefully) horrid…something I just had to try and wash away and have been trying to erase since then.( Boy! That sure would take an awful lot of washing up during the years)
E) I like the colder climes better than any other climate. It seems to be something I’ve inherited…the heat just doesn’t suit me…(feels like some really slow genetic adaptation… my mind and body still seem to feel they are meant to be in Europe and not here in the tropical climes of India.)


My collection habits range from the good to the strange to the really bizarre. Its definitely more than just what the average female collects...old birthday cards, shoes, dresses, accessories….(P.S. I think Jayalalitha was a pretty average female even with her collection of saris and shoes).

For instance I have this stash of really unmatched buttons I’ve collected over the years. Just simple plastic, bone and metal buttons with which if I tried to make a multicolored plaque would resemble something like an MF Hussain painting gone wrong. (That says a lot for the color combinations I would be forced to use).I really don’t know why I collect those buttons. It’s probably because I can’t see anything being wasted or maybe just in the hope of getting the perfect garment to match them. Truth be known I just get a joy in putting my hand in the bag and sifting through them …it pretty much feels like when u go into a supermarket and sift your hand through a tin of grain. Oh! That feel of plenty is priceless.

Then once I went on this Jag of collecting foreign currency which is quite normal. However my reasons weren’t so normal. I didn’t collect for any cultural or educative reasons as most people would say but because it tickled me pink at the thought of the distance that piece of paper or coin traveled to get to me. I mean I could write a whole book on the life of a note…all the various exciting places and events it went through to reach its final destination –ME. However I grew out of that habit thankfully…courtesy a soured love relationship which made me clear a lot of mess and junk a lot of clutter…both physically and metaphorically.

Then I have this fascinating habit of collecting Plastic bags. It’s a habit that’s totally unique except to the rag picker race. However I do consider myself one notch above that scavenging race. I DON’T collect used poly bags…just newly minted poly bags. I have a super collection of bags both Natural fiber and polythene which I keep close to me literally. I line the underside of my mattress with all those glorious bags. Plus it has an advantage of leveraging my position from ‘single’ cushion to ‘double’ cushion. When I was in Pune studying I created the largest collection of bags anyone would have had in my hostel and people knew whom to approach had they needed one.Oh I could afford to be generous. I had surplus over my buffer supplies. My collection ranged from Subway take away wraps to Pune Central glorious translucent watermelon bags…to those crackly Piramyd bags to those glossy Amsterdam Airport Merry Christmas holiday bags. I have also collected Laundry bags and airsickness bags from airports and Hotels…well all justifiably needed …how awful to be caught getting sick without an airsickness bag ( Perfectly legitimate for me to take one).another reason why I like going shopping is the Bags I get. Sometimes when the need and hunger gets too much…….I just go shopping with someone and take the bags in fair exchange for my esteemed company.


My recent interaction with the beach for the first time left me with two bags of an assortment of shells and stones.Oh! Those two beautiful days of beach combing that left me looking like something like the hunchback of Notre dame. All I could do at the water’s edge was chase after the shiny shells and pebbles which kept appearing and receding magically with the tide. I went totally berserk…what a collector’s paradise! Smooth stones, serrated surfaces, colored, jewel bright stones… (Who knows that might have been a rare diamond)…green, blue, yellow ochre I collected them all.Ah! But this is one of the more tame addictions of mine so I shall not go in further details besides its seasonal and short-lived for I’m a beach collector so I only collect stones if and when I go to the beach.

As a kid I had this fascination for collecting pretty perfume bottles (the secret being in those early days I wasn’t allowed to put perfume so I would fantasize about it by sniffing at the innumerable bottles I collected…).which later on extended to wine bottles which I sniffed at too but for very different reasons… (Had been reading those M&Bs which ...er.. taught so much about wines and their bouquets….I was just beginning to learn about that concept….being not only restricted to flowers).However that was soon put to an end…when my developed sense of smell got away with me and I brought home a bottle of formaldehyde preserved ancient but still not disintegrated earthworms. They were my pride….only my mother didn’t share in it and out went my collection of bottles and all. I cried, I felt deprived, I screamed in rage, but to no avail. Anyway I grew up and found compensation in the real stuff……..real perfumes and wine. For those of you who don’t know…I love perfume….and anytime you are stuck for what to give me …..Give me a bottle of wildly expensive French perfume….Oh! And please no Rose….I hate rose…..except in flowers.

My recent craze is DVD videos. Being in a hostel gives you ample opportunity to make your own library of videos. I have approximately 400 movies (a modest collection) right now. Some as original DVDs or VCDs…those evergreen collector movies one would like to see over and over again ( and that brings to the forefront another peculiarity of mine…..when Shakespeare said “if music be the food of love, play on…” he meant me………it takes me an average of 50-60 times listening to a track to make me sick of it after which I will not touch it till eternity…..this habit of mine has percolated into the other parts of my life too…food…drink…movies…and sometimes sad to admit people too….so if I’m onto you big time, beware!….your days in my life are numbered…sometimes fortunately for you, and sometimes for me). My rationale in collecting movies---a visualization of what I’ll be when I’m 80 years old ….sitting on an overstuffed couch with nothing to do besides matchmaking (something I want to desperately do to torture the next generation as I was tortured…).Ah! hopefully by then my elephantine memory will have dimmed and I can enjoy the mammoth collection I’ve made over years of careful education in good taste ( my collection of movies has no riff raff….its all the choicest ones …each a story to tell both in the making and how it landed in my collection…).

Then there is the morbid streak in me too…I collect remains of old relationships…movie ticket stubs, bills from lunches and dinners, old envelopes from letters that are preserved for posterity, feathers, dried flowers and even in my case …er…pop corn packets….. (Don’t ask me why pop corn).Then there are other things like……..a lock of my dead dog’s hair… Oh I think that’s so romantic….the whole ‘locket and lock’ thing. That was my dog’s…Beware! if you are the love of my life you’ll probably go missing some hair…or an old t shirt …I LOVE RELICS…Sometimes I feel I might have been an Egyptian the way I mummify my things ‘achaar dalo’ as my friends and family say…

And there is this lifelong fetish I have with anklets and earrings especially filigree and stone jewellery.No, if you’re wondering I’m definitely not high maintenance. I could ooh! And ah! over some junk you picked up for me from some street vendor in Bandra or rhapsodize over a delicate spider web of silver from Oysterbay.But for the major part I feel Jewellery and shoes are highly personal and should be bought by oneself only…they are a reflection of what you are. There is this old adage that still holds true today… “You can make out the kind of man by his shoes and friends”. I’d like to take the liberty to extend that to women too.

Then there are the more mundane items like scented candles, pot pourri, stationary, multicolored post-its, recipes books scavenged out of “kabaari waala tapris” ,flower seeds and fresh flowers and plants, books, etc.

Oh the never-ending joy of collection. You can just imagine the pleasure. It’s another thing that I will always need a store room wherever I live to keep my stash safe from prying eyes.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

DEVELOPMENT IN INDIAN Inc.

I wonder sometimes at the definition of development which is paraded so vigorously by everyone including our esteemed politicians. Is Indian .Inc a reality? Those incredible India adverts floating on channels in between prime time programs seem to say yes!

And yet there are instances which remind us of the primitive state of the society we live in. You have people steeped in superstitions tossing their babies in the air from the second floor to help make them stronger, and serials of the “saas-bahu “ genre that are surely nothing but a intellectual paralysis and sari and jewellery parade getting prime spots on a country with one of the biggest population of youth.

Well that’s some thought for the media barons….have we actually done our segmentation properly or is it that the Indian population is intellectually incapable of handling more than a series of plastic surgeries and illegitimate affairs still going strong even when the protagonist has got great grandchildren. Says a lot for their sexual prowess if nothing else…..and all this of course happening in typical “sanskaari” parivaars.if it wasn’t so pathetic it would be almost laughable.

Another shocking incident the other day getting covered in the news made me think again about the development of our society. There was this stray case of an identification goof up in Noida.An old woman had died under mysterious circumstances and because of the disintegrated state of the body the police couldn’t identify her. a person claiming to be her son comes and claims her body as his mothers. Two days later…the person believed to be dead is seen trying to prove that she is alive via ration cards and photographic identification etc.another person believed to be the corpse’s real son comes and questions the police on its negligence. Apparently there was some jewellery and money on the dead body which understandably went missing.

Another ecerpt taken from India Today kind of hinted at the hopelessness of the state of law and order support services in India. In 2006,alone the GRP personnel found 1568 bodies,in 2007 a whopping 1696 deaths on the tracks…which hints at a grotesque rise of approximately 5 deaths per day on the tracks and all this only in Haryana.Even more startling is the number of unidentified bodies (10698 bodies recovered since 2001 and of these 3,298 were cremated without identification).while accidents and suicides are a common cause ,police officials have unearthed another dangerous trend of Murders being passed off as accidents.The rationale being that such bodies are generally not identified and the killer gets to go scot free.

However I’m still wondering about the method of identification or a person if she isn’t alive to tell the tale. Abroad we have dental records social security numbers. Over here if your body that is either burnt or mangled beyond recognition with finger prints missing, then there is no way to tell who it is.

Basic requirements like dental records are not there. Quite a few people have never even seen what a hospital looks like let alone availed of any medical service. Even worse many births go unregistered……assisted by phony untrained midwives. In such a situation how difficult would it be for a criminal…worse for a terrorist to die and then suddenly come alive again?

The more shocking recent unearthing of mass graves in Gujrat, a screaming testimony to callous treatment of the dead just goes to show that we cannot even afford to give basic dignity to our dead let alone the living.I hope that the outside world doesn't watch these bizzarre happenings in India as a picture of a "truly incredible India" with all the negative connotations...

Friday, May 16, 2008

ABSTRACTED THOUGHTS

There is an inordinate pleasure humans derive in drawing parallels between themselves and anything this world contains. We draw comparisons between our lives and those of great people gone before us (sometimes saying this is exactly what I am like , or this is what I would never want to be like)…some mere mortals immortalized by their acts of deceit and vengeance or something so horrifying that relating it with glee is in itself a sinful act. The Mata Haris and Hitlers of the world are just as alluring to read about or enjoy as a finely crafted Belgium Godiva chocolate…or a Rembrandt immortalized by their perfection.

We relish the act in a horrific way even if it is of the highest negativity. Its very strange that although most of us are ever ready to walk down a moral high path in the name of what is correct and what is not we are so lacking in perspective where it comes to defining what can be enjoyed by us or not. I mean one can never or should never take “interest” or “pleasure” in the torture of another individual person or animal. Yet the views or hits the -------- Fritzl case or Nathari case got bears testimony to exactly what I denounced earlier. Kind of brings to my mind another thought that ….the purest of emotions can never be negative or positive but both….Pleasure for instance can be both positive as well as negative depending on who looks at it and from what angle. Love too can be negative and positive……..sometimes its called passion, sometimes obsession, and sometimes when both partners are in love its called sublime….of course this is the most desirable state as no one gets hurt and the world is a happy place.

Getting back to the original line of thought… the news channels today capitalize on the misery of individuals and report heinous acts of crime against humanity……No! Not for the sake of justice only…but also to make sure their TRPs don’t flag. And we the viewers applaud them for broadcasting and making aware the general public…awareness is a lethal weapon which empowers us right? Yet we as dumb bystanders on many occasions just stand by and enjoy the scene, the revulsion drawn out a brutality which is enjoyment itself.

Some people might say why I am so dark in my thoughts…that the good in the world is reported too……..but human nature being what it is……how many of us are ecstatic at the news of a man saving ten orphans from a fire …we would rather enjoy the news of how three sons bludgeoned their mother in the name of witchcraft to save her soul.

This world is made of mixed shades of grey…while the most beautiful primary shades of black and white (an amalgam of all colors we have ever seen and if I may say so) are what are immortalized as fluctuating benchmarks never to be reached…one can never be perfection never attain it because it’s a chimera…a foggy target which is just a dream with no roots in reality.

As X-Files put it the truth is out there……the bigger truth (yes there are degrees of truth varying just as there are shades of grey) is….the truth lies within. Imperfection (perhaps I am a little harsh to my kind…lets say human perfection….imperfection holds too negative a connotation) is the only truth and it lies within. We are not a very pretty picture (if I look from the white end of the spectrum…if from the black end there is still hope for humanity) to look at…because objectivity and POVs govern all our acts. The faster we accept this the faster we will be able to accept differences.

By difference I mean-differences between races, differences between sexes and communities, differences between priorities…and the slower we will be to denounce our fellowmen. It will take a strong individual to actually give objectivity total control. I like that movie a lot ‘Thank you for smoking’. If you argue correctly, you can never be wrong.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

KITKAT

I am suddenly a proud mother and grandmother of a medley of stray cats. One day a shabby little grey cat came at my doorstep when I was sitting in the Garden which is really a patch of grass and a few flowerpots…drinking my cuppa of tea. He sat in front of me blinking his grey green eyes as though I was a surprise to him rather than the reverse. Anyway I and my weakness for tiny helpless mites like that…..
You can imagine what I did went and located a plastic bowl which could be his for life and then made some concoction of malai and rotis ….the bowl signifying that this guy was there to stay…
Called him Kittu………..gosh how obvious I can get but he looked so cute and ‘kittuish’……..and then I didn’t have time to decide his name did I? He just foisted himself on me from nowhere.
Then one fine day I see my cat had suddenly become two from one. Suddenly Kitty came into the picture. A smaller version of Kittu and that too in a different colour altogether. Kitty was smarter and bullied the life out of Kittu.She ate up all his food and I wondered why. I was in for another surprise. One day I am sitting on the same steps and I heard this pathetic mewling all of a sudden. Following it I went behind one of the flower tubs and saw this tiny rat like animal which was supposed to be a cat………..this is KitKat….the offspring of Kittu and Kitty….and finally I am a proud mother….and now grandmother of three cats.

Friday, April 18, 2008

LIFE DOESN'T ALWAYS OFFER SECOND CHANCES

I’ve always believed that if you want something badly, life does offer you second chances. But there are times when even life seems helpless. was reading this novelette Snow Angels by Barbara W Klasser, (don’t know why I mention her name….i guess it just adds a degree of authenticity to an otherwise fictitious story) in which the protagonist Tess loses her family just when she was planning a much needed sabbatical from work and her current lifestyle to get a grip on life as she put it.
Just the she gets a call form the sheriff of the county where her parents lived, her father mother and 17 year old brother all dead in a road crash. Their lives mercilessly snuffed out.

Just made me think suddenly about the enormity of the choices we make be they about our career or love or families. Sometimes we don’t have the luxury of a replay like in the movies and have to live with the choices we make. Our bounteous patience and grit comes to our rescue to help us live with the situation, but we can never say that we are happy.

I have yet to meet a perfectly happy person. Someone who is totally satisfied with the way his or her life has turned out. All I see are compromises all around me. Strange now that I look back and see I too have made many mistakes and although life hasn’t stopped for me it hasn’t moved on too (if you know what I mean).you only move on in life when you have something special to look forward to. I might be sounding like a chronic depression case, but that’s not the truth. I have a generally cheerful disposition, but a funny face often hides tears behind all the mirth. so did tess… I can understand her misery, her numbness at the enormity of the situation she has no control over.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

CONFUSION

I am so beginning to believe that we sometimes are a product of not only our environment and our genes but sometimes the environment which we may have lived in sometime and long forgotten it. Yes I am talking about rebirth. to be honest with you guys I never really believed in this concept and like a devout Christian always believed in the after life……a life after death or heaven and earth and us being a part of eternity united in the body and blood of Jesus.
I still do but I also find it difficult to find explanations for affiliations and feelings like deja - vu’s which I have never before had or maybe had but never really realized or recognized.

This might sound weird coming form a sane adult female who is educated and lives in the present times. But it’s for sure there is something that ticks me off………sometimes a particular smell….and environment or maybe just a food. It’s like my old rusty memory kicks in and I feel like I have done this almost a zillion times …and to be honest takes away the novelty of the act. I suddenly feel at ease in situations I have never been before or never known how to handle. But here I am reveling in such a situation with not a clue of how it is going to turn out.
Maybe, I’m just a nut case. But that’s all the explanation I have for this and probably an argument that even nut cases have saner moments.

There is another part too. The sense of belonging I was endowed with as being born and part of a family is long gone. Strange I just realized this and have seen over a few years that I have no home except one …strange place I’ve never been. It’s simple really if you look at it, there is a home inside each one of us which we go to and which only we can trust. Some place which is my own and one which no one can break into and breech. A place of my own at last, so close and I never realized it that I had it.

But loneliness is a killer especially when you taste it. And the loneliness without your own sanctum is the mother of them all. So go and find that sacred inner sanctum virgin as no beech in this world can be……clean and pristine……….your own private beech in the island of life: D its holiday time folks…find your favorite destination.

SERVILE INDEPENDENCE

Who is responsible?

Life is sometimes a sacrifice and one has to live it at all times for others. Strange I thought society came into being because man couldn’t exist alone on his own. Now the society like a parasite has got man entrapped as its host. Gradually it sucks his life blood, his independence and his identity dry till there is nothing but a worthless shell left. His spirit crushed under rules and regulations. Discipline they call it, culture they call it, traditions and legacy……do we really have a legacy? We are no different from the rats who followed the pied piper to their doom. A few self righteous, cultured people set examples for spineless mortals with no originality who feels the need to cling to something and pretend that it’s original and not something followed by hundreds of such like people.

Or is it a legacy of slavery? A slavery born out of what few ‘wise’ people thought to be right for men. Sometimes I feel that man was originally better off free alone and with a will of his own, even if it meant that he had poor standards of living…and lived his life like a pauper…vagabond…scavenger WHATEVER!...AT LEAST HE LIVED IT TO THE FULLEST AND FREE IN SPIRIT.

Now he is left shackled in nothing but a will to support his family and friends, a will to do what is considered right off him. Religion too is a manifestation of what society deemed as the right conduct to be followed. This was originally meant to chanelise the untamed violent nature of man, but turned out that it changed his very essence. Where we had originality and independence, now we have servile docility and dependency.

My question to you is who has the right to decide what is right and what is wrong. No human is so evolved that he can take the right to decide the fate of his other fellowmen. The choice of our way of living should rest with us, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t live responsibly. Just as the onus of our actions rests on our shoulders, the onus of the consequences rests there too. And in taking decisions a truly evolved human being will not do anything that will jeopardize the balance of someone else’s life…just our own. Responsibility sometimes takes out the spectacular out of lives…for example many things considered deleterious for humans like smoking etc would be original choice…
However this situation wouldn’t arise with freedom of action and thought. Everyone is responsible for his own action; we just don’t follow people into the well just because they are doing it and because it’s the ‘happening’ thing to do. we do things based on our own judgment of whether it suits me and is right for me. Let the decision be left to the individual. Children should be allowed the freedom to exercise their intellect once they are old enough to take decisions for themselves. This is one thing I like about the western world. They allow the freedom of choice. If I have a kid and he wants to smoke then he should be mature enough to take the consequences thereof. I can only help him evaluate his choices. If he hence decides to go and start smoking, the onus of the decision should rest on his shoulders because the decision is his and not mine. similarly I should not be quoted as an example of poor parenting, because I believe parents help the children to grow up and mature decision making is a part of growing up…not making the kid lead a plastic life closed up in a compartment called “parental guidance” where he doesn’t learn the meaning of real-time decision making because he has never learnt how to make them and take responsibility for the consequences.


I always advocated the naturalist way of learning. Let his fall and learn the pain that comes from falling. Let him touch fire and know that it can burn. Learning through others mistakes as people call it isn’t really learning. as for me I would be obviously there to pick up the pieces as people would say. that is the most difficult part of parenting. Give all the inputs possible and watch them make a mess of their lives help them gather strength back to start all over again, so that they may learn to make mistakes, correct them and make them no more. That is what I envisage. That is my dream for a world governed by free will.