Ms Muse

The Programmer

2011-12-16T19:53:00.001+05:30

Once upon a time there was a computer programmer.

This is the end of story as well because we all know computer programmers don't have lives.

Go work now.

Extra Time

2011-11-08T19:28:00.001+05:30

What will I do if I get 2 extra hours in a day?

Lemme think....

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....thinking......

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....thinking......
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...still thinking....

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oh dammit, the 2 hours are already up!

Out-of-office

2011-10-24T13:50:00.001+05:30

What my 'out of office' auto-response says:
"I am on vacation till 2nd Nov. Please expect a delay in response. For escalations please contact my manager Ark Tuff"

What I really want to put on the auto-response:
"It's Diwali and I am busy stuffing myself with sweets and other delicacies. Since I can't do that and work at the same time, I opted for the more important of the two. Hence I am going to stay away from office till 2nd Nov. For any escalations, please contact my manager Ark Tuff. On second thoughts, please feel free to contact Ark Tuff for trivial things as well. That will show him all the kind of crap I have to deal with and will make my salary-hike conversation easier.

If your matter can wait until my return, then it wasn't important anyway so I am not going to respond to it. Besides there's going to be a ton of email cluttering my Inbox during my absence so I won't have time to read your specific email anyway. By the time I eventually get to it, your matter will have been resolved or forgotten. Either way you look at it, don't expect any response from me. When I do get back to office, you will have difficulty recognising the new roly-poly me which is just as good.

Happy Diwali!"

Life's like that

2011-06-29T19:13:00.002+05:30

Like most modern women, I had dreamed of meeting my prince charming at a swinging party, a relaxing resort or on an adventure vacation in an exotic island. Not in Tihar Jail, the largest maximum security prison in South Asia.

But before you go counting your chickens before they hatch and putting the carriage before the horse and all those fancy sayings which I'd love to spout but will not (for the simple reason that I haven't the foggiest idea of what they are), let me explain to you the extenuating circumstances.

Now then, where was I? Tihar Jail. Right. A bunch of us from office had gone there on a volunteering basis to run a medical camp for the workers of TJ. The NGO we had partnered with gave each of us little tasks to do. So while everyone else was doing icky stuff like noting down height, weight, maintaining orderly queues, yelling out things they were running out of and running around replacing them, I had this cushy, intellectual (and the only seated) job of interviewing the workers to do a pre-checkup profiling.

I was enjoying myself, pretending to be a hot-shot doctor, tut-tutting righteously when someone told me they drank too much or smoked too often, advising them to eat healthy balanced meals and generally making a thorough nuisance of myself while I checked items off my questionnaires and watched my colleagues sweat it out.

The NGO lady sitting next to me kept giving me all sorts of advice which I kept royally ignoring. Soon, it was break time and the workers were cleared off for a bit while we volunteers relaxed over tea and biscuits. The moment I was about to happily sink my teeth into one huge biscuit, this stunning dude walked over and sat down in the chair in front of me.

Like most modern women, I don't like to be caught in an undignified position with my mouth wide open trying to stuff a healthy bite of some high-calorie foodstuff in it with chocolate coated fingers. Not when I have that sort of gorgeous hunk sitting bang opposite, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.

Recovering quickly, I grinned, wiped my fingers clean, cheekily offered him a bite of the luscious biscuit and grabbed one of the questionnaires I had been using for the worker health profiling.

"Now then.......Name?" I began, making a big show of doing my volunteering duties.
"Anthony", he replied without missing a beat.
"Age?" I looked up slyly.
"26" he replied, catching on fast.
"Do you drink? Smoke?"
"No"
"Vegetarian?"
"No"
"Married?" I improvised saucily
"No", he replied with a grin, knowing fully well that there was no such question on my list.
"Lovely, then last question - salary?" I grinned up at him, thoroughly enjoying this charade.
"Not enough. But does seven figures work for you?"
"I don't know about her, but honey, you can marry me any time you want!" gushed the NGO-lady who was sitting (quite forgotten) beside me.

He did.

Ash You Like It

2011-06-27T22:01:00.006+05:30

I think its about time I drafted a mathematical equation for my rotten luck. Its strong enough to make the Guinness Records. Move over Murphy, this is no kid stuff.

Rolling highlands, sexy dudes in little skirts and the smoothest single malts - the internet did make Scotland sound so very exciting. Well, I was going to find out for myself soon enough.

Unfortunately, a day before I was to fly to Edinburgh, a volcano erupted in Reykjavik blotting out half the European airspace. Funny how these so-called developed countries keep bragging about technological advances and then sit around twiddling their thumbs just because there's some ash in the clouds.

Now, this were India, we'd find a hundred ways to exploit this opportunity and probably sell more volcanic ash than sliced bread.

Helps you keep things in perspective.

Beauty Sleep

2011-06-26T14:37:00.003+05:30

On my best days I am grumpier than the caffeine addict without his normal dose, but when I am ruthlessly woken up from my morning sleep, I am - well - I don't think there are any sufficient words in the English dictionary to describe me. In any dictionary for that matter. God save anyone who tries to wake me up before ten a.m on a weekend.

Summer

2011-06-13T21:05:00.005+05:30

When I realised I would be visiting the UK during summer, I started really looking forward to some lovely sunshine, sheep-in-the-meadows lazy landscapes and bare-bodied handsome hunks on beaches.

As most women, I spent 67% of my time plotting my wardrobe, taking care to pack all the halters, noodle-straps and scooped necklines I possessed. After all, the summer season was created to enjoy nature's beauty, wasn't it? The more mundane things like air tickets, forex and other trivialities I finished within 23 minutes flat.

So when my mom shoved a thick sweatshirt into my bag "just-in-case", I was loth to admit that for all the sunshine in the country, I'd still need something to protect me from the air-conditioning of the aeroplane.

And as moms usually are, she was right. The aeroplane temperature gave me an exclusive preview of life in Antartica during the winters. I don't think anyone was happier to land than I - mostly because I'd finally get to burrow out of the piles of blankets and sweatshirt and smile up at the sun than because I was visiting a place I had never been to before.

Imagine my shock when I sashayed out of the aiport into a blast of chilling wind that, if you will pardon the expression, knocked the wind out of me. I squinted up into the swirling black clouds and shook my fist at the sky. I was already beginning to hate London.

Einstein's Theory of Relatively is a very powerful tool. It is perhaps the only excuse that can be used in virtually any situation. So, four layers of clothing and these people had the audacity to call it Summer! Invoke Einstein's Theory.

I spent the rest of my stay bundled up in jackets, dreaming of India.

Inked

2010-08-04T21:22:00.007+05:30

For all my show of bravado and pompous declarations of fearlessness, I am actually a wimp at heart. I am wimpier than the proverbial 'scaredy-cat' and the touch-me-nots. Yellow, sissy, chicken, weakling, fraidy-cat, namby-pamby...but by now I suppose you get the drift.

One of my most cherished dreams has been to get tattooed. It took years of mustering courage and making three other friends get inked for me to finally manage to stagger into the snazzy tattoo parlour.

Months ago, I had been scouring the internet in search of the perfect design, but then I am not very easy to please.

"Do you have any designs I can select from?"

And the next thing I knew, I was swamped to the chin in design books, searching for anything that would catch my fancy. After about an hour of hopeless poring over countless designs, shortlisting, discarding, re-shortlisting and what not, my friend (you don't think I walked in there alone do you) had just about had it with me.

"Now you select something real quick or I'm off!", she threatened.

Suitably chastised, I quickly picked on the design that I had been eyeing for a while and decided that that was that.

The starting up of the tattoo machine was about the scariest noise I had ever heard. If you don't count the dentist's drill of course. I looked at the tattoo artist's face in the hope that he will be gentle with me, and saw this maniacal gleam of evil in his eyes.

"Oh god, I shall be very good, I shall never thumb my nose at passers-by, I shall always let elders sit on the last seat in an exceedingly crowded bus.....OUCH!"

The needle had pricked my skin. The first few minutes were terrifying as I tried to not hyperventillate and thrash about like a convict on the electric chair. But eventually, when I did come to my senses, I realised that it didn't quite hurt as much as I had envisaged. Unless he drew long uninterrupted strokes with the machine that is.

I sat there patiently, asking the artist tons of questions about the whole world while my friend thumbed through magazines. After an hour, it was over.

I am now officially stamped with a pair of gorgeous blue tulips.

New Shades

2010-08-04T21:10:00.003+05:30

Yeah, again.

For some reason that I can't even begin to fathom, the trickiest task for me is being able to keep a pair of sunglasses safe and sound while using them to the fullest.

First it was those blasted monkeys that grabbed my sunglasses. Then it was those blasted evolved monkeys, or man, as they are commonly known, who grabbed my sunglasses. Oh, but I haven't told you about that now, have I?

Whilst vacationing in Gangtok, I took my sunglasses from my bag and kept them on the bed at my hotel room as I wasn't anticipating needing them. The day was cloudy and dark enough and my bag was overflowing with its usual junk and I had wanted to make some space. I locked the room carefully, put the heavy brass keys into my bag and went off touristing away.

When I came back, my glasses were missing. So were a few gobs of aloe vera gel from my friend's beauty kit.

I had to go and get new glasses made now. Story of my life. Sigh.

At least I have the last laugh. I wonder what the thief will do when he finds out he can't see properly through my sunglasses because they have my power built in?

Travel Travails

2010-08-04T20:52:00.004+05:30

I am a seasoned traveller. That means I have travelled in all seasons. I am also a weathered traveller. That doesn't mean I travel in all weathers but rather that I am rusted and totally beat. And there's a sound reason for that.

On most occassions, the normal man flags down the ubiquitous autorickshaw, climbs in and zooms off directly to his prefered destination while in the Big Bad City. Snaking through trecherous terrain and serpentine rows of honking vehicles stuck in traffic jams while the merciless rain drums down relentlessly is quite the normal affair for the Common Man.

Unfortunately, as I have pointed out in my earlier compositions, whenever anything is applied in my context, it ceases to be normal or common anymore. The laws of physics hold good only so far. In case you were ever wondering where your hard earned tax money vanishes, then you'd be extremely gratified to know that over half of it is employed in funding reasearch of the Me phenomenon. No wonder our nation is forever in need of accomplished scientists.

Anyway, life throws quite interesting "common" problems my way. One of God's favourite ones is providing me with sufficient adventure and excitement while I am trying to reach the darn airport on time. His Chief of Staff has decided that my dull dreary life needs to be enlivened and the only time it is appropriate to do so is when I am in a mad dash to reach the airport in time for my flight.

So today, Mr. Chief of Staff (hereby refered to as CoS for brevity but mostly because I am too lazy to type such a long phrase again and again) decided to personally help me get to the airport.
Dad was out on the road waiting for our ubiquitous rickshaw to arrive. There was no sign of any. Of course when you don't want them, they keep getting in your way like an overgrown belly and often you have to walk around with a huge red-and-white signboard screaming "I do NOT want any autorickshaw".

After about ten whole minutes of frustrated waiting, we had to pick up my bags (which weighed about a ton with all the goodies mom makes for me - the 'overgrown belly' reference isn't entirely without a history of its own mind you) and start walking towards the main road in the hopes of getting one rick. We found one rather quickly after that and before the driver could change his mind, we parked ourselves with authority and got ready to be whisked away.

However, the minute the rickshaw turned the corner, one of its tyres got punctured. Muttering unprintable expletives under my breath ('coz my Dad was right there so I couldn't say them out aloud. We Indians pride oursleves on our culture) I clambered out and immediately started looking for another one.

The CoS was getting warmed up so there were no other rickshaws in sight. When dad finally managed to flag a couple, they refused to go to the airport and scooted off faster than the Roadrunner. Finally, after much flagging and other antics whose details I shall spare you, we got one that agreed to take us to the airport. As luck would have it (rather as the CoS would have it), the minute we settled in, the back panel popped loose and the driver started expending all his energy in fixing it up. This rickshaw wasn't going anywhere either.

We extricated ourselves from the interior and started our flagging business again (my arms have quite toned up I observed). I have a notion the CoS was getting bored with this routine so he sent us a rickshaw to get us to the airport and we were finally on our way.
He sent some other distractions for variety instead.

Remember the serpentine rows of honking vehicles stuck in a traffic jam referenced above? Yeah, every line here has a history as you may have noticed by now. So, our rickshaw was stuck somewhere in this serpentine row of honking vehicles in the traffic jam and was contributing in some measure of its own, to the decibel levels by effective and well-paced honking.

I got a wee bit uneasy and decided to call up the airlines to explain my predicament and see if they could let me tele check-in. They politely told me to piss off.

CoS must have been enjoying himself.

I figured there was no need to get upset and worst case I'd miss the flight and end up getting more vacation than I had bargained for. I immediately brightened at that thought and grinned to myself. Now that I was looking at things in the right perspective, I was beginning to positively beam at the traffic, the rain and the local cat. Just when I was about to offer a friendly advice to the driver to turn back and head for home instead, all traffic vanished in a puff of smoke (pun unintended) and we reached the airport in no time flat.

Cursing CoS for spoiling my plans again, I quickly hopped off and rushed to the terminal to catch that blasted flight. I was the last person to arrive before the gates were closed.

The Efficient Packer

2010-06-23T12:59:00.001+05:30

I'm pretty non-fussy when it comes to packing. I pick an outfit for each day using pure arithmetic, dump it into a suitcase and its all done. However, this time I decided to save space by taking less clothes and washing them to reuse. That way, half my suitcase was empty for all the shopping I would do.

I rubbed my hands with glee (and some sanitizer) and went off into the wild blue yonder.

Unfortunately, pure arithmetic hadn't taken into account the complex weather conditions which wouldn't allow my clothes to dry at all. It was either too cold or too rainy.

I ended up buying more clothes and filling up my suitcase with unwanted junk. Oh well, at least I had space.

Best laid plans

2010-06-22T22:35:00.004+05:30

Ever meticulous and cautious, I do weeks of research about a place before I actually land there and Darjeeling was no different. After careful digging around and tons of time spent on the internet, I finally prepared my masterplan - the itinerary for my vacation. Hotels were called, tickets were booked, local taxi numbers were noted, wardrobe was planned (and replanned about five times), goodbyes were said and I was on my way.

Only, someone up there had a different agenda in mind.

Absolutely nothing worked as per the plan. Which is no problem to someone gifted with as many grey, blue and pink cells as I, but it kinda gets a wee bit heavy on the pocket.

So we reached Bagdogara airport from where we would take a taxi to Gangtok, but were informed that there was a huge landslide and roads to Gangtok were closed. We'd have to go there via Darjeeling.

So what was the issue you may ask. Well, in case you don't know (and that's rather obvious), Bagdogara, Darjeeling and Gangtok form a triangle. One of the first principles of a triangle is that you can't go someplace via some other place without doubling the time. After a 5 hour trip we were in no mood to go winding about on mountain roads for another 9 hours. Besides we had scheduled our hotel dates in Gangtok first.

Anyway, reason took over and we decided to start our vacation with Darjeeling instead. Unfortunately when we reached Gangtok after a few blissful days in Darjeeling, Nathula pass was closed, I ran out of camera memory, the famous Kanchenjunga sunrise was blotted out with clouds and we got stuck in another landslide on our way back and nearly missed our flight.

Did we enjoy the trip? You bet we did. How much did we spend? At least 30% more than our budget!

Momos

2010-06-22T22:24:00.002+05:30

It was 3pm. I was surveying the lush greenery of the tea gardens of Darjeeling with awe when my tummy gave a low growl. Distracted, I looked at my watch and realised what my tummy was trying to tell me. I hadn't had anything to eat since morning and tummy was angry.

I looked around the tiny little tea-shops that dotted the landscape and approached them expectantly.

"Do you have anything to eat here?"
"Yes madam, Momos"
"One plate please"

As I sat on a broken wooden bench, gazing in wonder at the rolling mountains merging into the green slopes, the tea boy came up to me with a steaming plate of 5 tiny momos.

I picked one up, dipped it in the chutney provided, blew off some steam to cool it down and put a giant bite into it.

I have never tasted anything so divine. The chutney was the hottest, spiciest one I had ever eaten and the momos just melted into my mouth. In almost no time at all I had gobbled up all the five.

"Another 2 plates please" I asked, my appetite totally on overdrive even as my tongue was on fire. "And some of your famous tea to go with it".

The tea boy grinned and took down the order.

Half an hour later, tummy was satisfied, palate was in heaven, tongue was burnt to cinders. After all, I had gobbled down four plates of the delicacy.

Food

2010-06-06T19:19:00.002+05:30

Sometimes I get very childish when I'm in a dumb restaurant waiting for hours for the food to arrive. I then make creative use of my time with the material at hand.

Here's the bored, pissed off me on the empty plate.

Personae Dramatis

2010-06-06T19:10:00.003+05:30

This applies not only to human beings, but also to mundane things like vegetables as I very recently discovered to my chagrin.

I decided to make this Sunday very special for my boy by serving some of my fabulous home cooked meals. I am normally not your kitchen-types but I do make some killers.

So when I went shopping for vegetables, I realised that I had a lot more to learn than a silly MBA.

"Bhaiya, zaara woh choti waali lauki dena" I said
"Woh baingan hai memsaab" he replied.

I was stunned. I looked at the vegetable closely and decided to buy something I could recognize correctly instead.

"Those strawberries - how much are they?" and my mind drifted off to all those innovative uses I could put those lovely red strawberries to.
"Those aren't strawberries, madam, they are litchies"

AArrrgghh.

I decided to go to some other market and try my luck there. This one was very deceptive I thought sourly.

Half an hour later, I was haggling with a vendor on the prices of ginger which turned out to not be ginger but arbi.

Oh well.

I came home and cooked a potato dish instead.

The Kiss

2010-05-16T13:49:00.004+05:30

I knew I was a gonner the moment I looked into his eyes. Those jet black whirlpools of infinite secrets sucked me in and I lost all sense of time.

He looked intensely into my eyes and pulled me towards him in an embrace. I shuddered at his touch and looked up into his smiling face. Oh God! He had got to be the hottest creature I had ever laid eyes upon.

My heart thundered in my chest as I tried to remember how to breathe. Yeah, in deeply then out, got it. I exhaled slowly as my gaze lowered to his lips. Their lush fullness promising untold pleasures was temptation enough without him making it even more irresistible with a slow tantalizing smile that showed glimpses of his fabulous teeth.

And before I knew it, his face swooped down upon mine and his warm luscious lips captured mine in a deep passionate kiss. I was lost to all humanity. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to that feeling. His lips were warm and soft and...demanding. They coaxed and cajoled and teased. I decided I had died and gone to heaven.

Suddenly I felt a terrible coldness. Alarmed, I opened my eyes and found myself alone in the midst of smouldering fires, dancing dervishes, red skies and skeletons. I looked around in fear as they mocked me through sightless eyes, their cackling the sound of pure evil. Realisation dawned.

I hadn't died and gone to heaven.

I had died and gone to hell.

Bite it!

2010-05-16T13:34:00.004+05:30

I was excited. It had poured buckets last night and I knew this morning would be simply amazing. It was. The air smelt fresh and sweet, the temperature was great, the breeze blew tiny little flower-petals around playfully and I smiled to myself. Yesterday's pissy mood had long gone. And the good mood had come back with a vengeance!

We left promptly at 6 and reached Cubbon Park around 6:30. Ten minutes of stretching and warmups later we started our weekly jog. I was thoroughly enjoying myself and keeping a keen eye open for Mr. Super-Hot in case I ran into him again (that's another story for another day folks). I was into my 5th kilometer when suddenly my forehead exploded in pain and I stopped dead in my tracks.

Waitaminit, I am not Harry Potter. Then why is my head hurting?
I didn't run into anything. Then why is my head hurting?
No one else stopped running, its only me. Then why is my head hurting?

While I was trying to figure out what was going on, I brushed my forehead vigorously and pulled out a bee from it. The bee seemed to think that expression "bee in your bonnet" should be taken literally to get with the times.

As I stared appalled at the mess in my hands, it occurred to me that the bee sting definitely proved one thing - I was SWEET!

I grinned wickedly at the now dead bee, wiped my forehead thoroughly and resumed my jog.

Gainfully employed

2010-05-03T21:30:00.002+05:30

My true test of patience, apart from tolerating the constant crib-crib-crib of the Blubbering Bimbo was how not to die of boredom in a house full of strangers.

Thankfully, my little friend, the Canon Powershot SD400 was there to keep me company.

I quietly sneaked out the front door and closed it gently behind my back. As I stepped into the pitch black porch, a streak of lightning lit up the sky. I involuntarily cringed and started back towards the comfort of the house but the loud crib-crib-crib arrested my steps. I was damned if I was going back in there now.

I turned around slowly and walked back into the darkness. Another flash, brighter and longer, greeted my tentative steps and I shut my eyes tightly.

I hate to admit it but I am quite chicken when it comes to lightning and thunder. All I can think of is to hide under the bed with my eyes closed, sixteen pillows at my side and Rambo standing guard outside. I peered around the blackness hoping to distract myself from the spectacle in the sky. I looked down at my camera and a slow wicked grin lit up my face.

I knew exactly what I had to do. It would keep me gainfully employed, away from the Blubbering Bimbo and with luck, help me get over my irrational fears.

I played around with the settings and aimed my camera at the spot in the sky where I had seen the maximum flashes and waited with bated breath.

It was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. First, the ligthning was not tongues of fire all the time, it was more of an ambient blaze of light in the dark sky. Second, it was very very very cloudy. Third, it was drizzling a wee bit. Fourth, I wasn't fast enough with the clicks. Fifth, the camera was not fast enough either. Sixth, I could hear the baying of two hundred dogs and it sounded quite near...

I shook myself and concentrated on getting good shots, hell, any shots of the lightning. I changed my camera settings five times to see what would be best. I snapped off about a thousand frames relentlessly. About 45 minutes later, they called out that dinner was ready and I went inside.

"You look like the cat who swallowed the canary. Spill it!"

"Take a look at the shots I got" I cried in excitement. I had got about a dozen photos of lightning, but there was one that was mind blowing.

And now, I don't think I will be that afraid of lightning anymore.

A night in a homestay

2010-05-02T20:11:00.003+05:30

So far, my weekend trip wasn't turning out to be as exciting as I had hoped. Apart from the fact that I had to put up with a senseless female who only opened her mouth to crib (and trust me, her mouth remained open 24*7), the 6 of us were going to be staying at some sidey homestay.

I am not against homestays, but I am strictly against sharing rooms with blubbering bimbos. But since all others were men, we were conveniently paired and bundled off into one room.

I did my best to fall asleep. But one can hardly concentrate on serene thoughts when the melodious notes of a rumbling snore keep assaulting one's senses. I realised that our blubbering bimbo couldn't keep her mouth shut even when she was asleep.

Disgusted, I buried my head under two pillows and tried to think of the Bahamas but to no avail. The racket she was making was enough to be heard in the next country. I got off the bed, snatched my pillows and blanket and left the room in search of greener pastures.

I stumbled through the dark lobby in search of a place to park myself. I remembered that there was a small room in some corner where extra mattresses were piled up. I blundered around in the dark till I found it and then switched on the light. There were five mattresses. I sighed with relief and satisfaction. Without wasting a minute, I quickly laid out one mattress on the floor, yanked a bedsheet off a divan and spread it across my mattress. I switched off the light and snuggled in to get some sleep.

Alas the sound of the snore kept tormenting me even there. I squirmed around in bed trying really hard to stay calm and get some sleep. I sorely missed my ipod. As I lay there awake, other sounds starting penetrating my consciousness - I counted three dogs barking ferociously, the occassional rumbling of thunder and - what was this - another more horrible sound of snoring!

I sat up.

Yes, it was unmistakable. It was a much louder, more obnoxious sound of male snoring. I shrugged and decided there was no way I was going to be able to get any sleep that night. I tossed around in bed and employed my wide-awake mind to other tasks to keep myself busy.

Soon, I was mentally plotting graphs on amplitude vs time for these two snore-ers and comparing their snoring patterns. Then I added another dimension to this graph and observed the snoring patterns again. I prepared a weekly forecast of snoring patterns assuming certain attributes remained constant and looked at my handiwork with satisfaction. By that time, I felt like the resident authority on snores. I was about to move on to other creative thinking areas when I realised that a third snore had joined in the competition.

I laughed and gave up.

Then I mentally wrote three bestsellers on the hazards of staying together in a homestay and concocted a horror story where the snore turns into a monster and eats everyone staying at the homestay. As my monster was gobbling up the loudest of the snore-ers, I invented another much bigger monster. His job was to gobble up the other monster, I decided with relish. I was quite enjoying my story and adding more embellishments when a rooster cock-a-doodle-d. I reached out for my cellphone and looked at the time.

It was 6 AM. Time for the house to awaken.

"Wow, you look so fresh", I snidely remarked to the blubbering bimbo when she stepped out after a shower, "slept well?"

"Yeah, I slept very well, and how about you?"

"Oh, I had a nice sleep too, thanks".

That's what happens when you go out with a bunch of folks you work with. You gotta grin and bear it!

My Hairband

2010-04-29T20:44:00.002+05:30

Most of the times, I forget to be all prim and ladylike. The other times I am too busy goofing up to be any good at it. So, all in all, I am the most hopeless failure in the feminine guile-and-charm department which the rest of the female species seems to be naturally endowed with.

So I go and buy a lipstick and half an hour after dabbing it on my lips, it disappears into thin air. Or rather into my tummy. At other times, I try kajal and then go on to rub my eye, blackening half my face in the process. I buy high heels and keep them in the showcase for display purposes while I saunter off in floaters under formal trousers.

However, there is one accessory that no one on earth seems to use but which I can't live without - my black hairband. It is a metal affair with jagged teeth to hold unruly tresses with authority and aplomb. It is the singlemost important item of clothing when I am at the gym. It also comes in handy when I want to pry open stubborn doors or ensure my cap stays in place. Of course when it is not plonked on my head, it acts as an effective paperweight.

Business Law

2010-04-29T20:26:00.003+05:30

I stared at the book for about an hour figuring out how to interpret it. Although the words were in English, the language strangely was miles off.

Yes, I am talking Law. Business Law. It is totally incomprehensible.

Seven days later, I was still struggling through my 7th chapter. I have 2 more to go. Sigh.

10 K

2010-04-25T20:37:00.005+05:30

I did it again.

While the world slept peacefully, earning a well deserved rest after two days of hard partying, I was busy brushing my teeth with half an eye open at 5AM on Sunday. I had decided to run and when I do decide to do something, its rather difficult to dissuade me. Even if it means neglecting my precious beauty sleep.

At 5.45, I was ready to tackle the world. A bunch of us were practicing for the marathon and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. We reached Cubbon Park around 6:30 and after another few minutes of waiting for others to join in, we started off at a brisk pace.

It was amazing. The park was gorgeously green and cool and last night's rain had added to the overall beauty of the place. Here and there the road was dotted with the serious joggers, the mild joggers, babies in prams with plump mothers cooing over them, big men with ponderous moustaches and even more ponderous gait, young children playing badminton, dogs barking at other dogs, dogs barking at people and the five of us weaving through without breaking step.

I looked around me with interest and excitement, never realising that an early morning could be so vibrant if only you were awake to see it.

I finished a straight jog with 7 km and the remaining 3 km walking.

Confessions of a Devil

2010-04-11T20:24:00.002+05:30

1. I so wish I could get some of those modern ACs installed in here. Its terribly hot in hell
2. They don't make good enough sunscreens anymore...
3. When they talk about being between the 'horns of a dilemma', are they talking about my brain?
4. I am so tired of my boring red outfit. Now, white on the other hand...
5. I don't have too much work to do these days. Man has started following in my footsteps of his own accord. Remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Remember 9/11?
6. My phone number is NOT 666. Cellphones don't work here, they melt in the fire.
7. I do have a 2MBPS ISDN connection though...
8. I am D evil one. Or De Vil-lain. Hence Devil. Always curious, aren't you?
9. No, my tail doesn't poke me when I sit.
10. Can I have an iPad? I have heard so much about them...

Excalibur

2010-04-11T20:17:00.002+05:30

I was facinated by King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Legend has it that only the king could extricate this magnificent sword from the slab of stone it was embedded in and when Arthur, a mere boy of 16 did so, history was made.

So when I chanced upon this drilling machine in a mall, it occurred to me that here was our very own modern version of the story.

Yeah, I did pull it out of that stone.

No, I wasn't crowned king. Hmph.

Managerial Economics

2010-04-10T21:29:00.002+05:30

I just finished my assignments on this subject and gained some valuable insights into the mysterious world of Economics. Here are some definitions:

Demand - what you make when you want to go shopping
Supply - credit card of your boyfriend
Demand forecasting - how accurately your boyfriend can gauge your impending urge to shop
Law of supply - the less money your boyfriend has, the more you will want to shop
Elasticity of demand - a woman's demands are never ending. Period.
Production function - how many credit cards your boyfriend has or can procure. Also, how much money does he make
Monopoly - having only one boyfriend
Oligopoly - having 2 boyfriends to choose from
Perfect Competition - when you are happily playing the field. There are no entry restrictions.
Opportunity Costs - what you miss when you choose one guy over the other
Cost Benefit Analysis - a girl's guide on how best to choose the right boyfriend.

Brain Drain

2010-04-10T21:28:00.002+05:30

My brain is on vacation. Officially.

So how do I manage to work? Are you kidding? Whenever did you need brains for that?!

GAH!

2010-04-05T17:07:00.002+05:30

Sitting in a training can be quite fun. As long as others are somewhere close to your intelligence level.

But as usual, since I get caught in all sort of sticky situations, I got pulled into one where the whole class was a classic bunch of nincompoops.

Not only was the progress of the subject matter slower than mollasses, I fell asleep at least five times without missing anything worthwhile.

I am still sitting in that infuriating training session listening with wonder to the extent of stupidity that people can display.

Of long meetings and unending trainings

2010-04-05T17:04:00.001+05:30

Sometimes, I think that man made meetings solely for the purpose of avoiding work instead of bringing together the right resources to tackle an issue and get work done. A prime example of this was one of the ostentatious 2-hour long ops reviews I attended today. How they manage to sit so long and look attentive throughout that duration without actually listening or understanding is a skill that I desperately need to muster!

Writer's Block

2010-04-01T20:44:00.002+05:30

One does tend to suffer from the Writer's Block from time to time. Even one as supremely intelligent and cosmically significant as I. And when the Writer's B does come to one as supremely intelligent and cosmically significant as I, it comes in spades.

I made a large cup of steaming hot tea and pondered over my problem between delicate sips of the restorative. Tea normally perks me up and gets those grey, blue and pink cells going. The old mitochondria start pumping away, the dendrites and axons begin to start oiling the old works and within minutes, I am refreshed and full of fresh energy, ideas and enthusiasm.

Alas, but no free flowing prose poured out of my divine fingers this time.

I should change the brand of tea I suppose.

Left, Right, Wrong

2010-04-01T20:36:00.002+05:30

I left right on time. Then turned left at the intersection, looked right and left, and walked right into the right shop. I had a big agenda today. I had to right a few wrongs.

I walked up to the counter grimly and pointed to the object of my interest.

"This one Madam, right?"
"No, the one on the right"
"Right? Ah, right. Well, here you are"
"No, the other right"
"Ah, you mean left"
"Right"
"Right"
"Yes, that's the only one left"
"Rather. This is the one you were alluding to?"
"Right"
"Right"
"Right"
"Right"

After this intellectually stimulating conversation, I left with the right thing. Or so I thought. When I reached home, I realised I had left it wrongly right where it should not have been left.

Don't blame me. English is a funny language.

Thirty minutes

2010-03-28T17:50:00.003+05:30

I have lousy stamina. I mean, really really lousy. If I so much as cut vegetables I get out of breath. One sunny Sunday, I was out doing the community a whole lot of good by cutting down dead trees and cleaning up the area. They had grouped us in twos and threes to make the activity simpler. My partner was an 83-year old given more to babbling than to working and I realised this was going to be a rather long Sunday.

I picked up my axe and with all the force I could muster, hit the tree hard. The axe barely made a scratch. I hit again and again and again. After about 10 minutes of hacking, I finally saw a tiny scar on the tree. I realised my partner was probably having a worse time and decided to help him first. I had just turned around to look for him when a sapling came crashing down near my foot.

"Sorry", he grinned sheepishly. "Rather poor calculation of where it would fall. Its quite easy though, isn't it?"

I gulped.

This "old" man was hacking away like the villian in Texas Chainsaw Massacre while the "young" me was already huffing and puffing away like a steam engine. I decided then that that was that. I was going to do something about myself real quick.

I enrolled in the friendly neighbourhood gym and started running. I would tire out in one minute flat. It took me one full year to manage 20 minutes.

Now I can do thirty. I can also hack away a sapling without breaking into a sweat.

And this year I shall run a marathon.

Music?

2010-03-16T15:27:00.002+05:30

The world is beginning to lose its creativity, I mused, thumbing viciously at the remote in my search for the perfect channel. I was in the mood for some good songs but the world's definition of 'good' had drastically changed from my own.

I sighed and reflected back to the time when Metallica were revered like an alternative religion, when people wanted to see Alice in Chains instead of out of it, when Nine Inch Nails had nothing to do with your local hardware store and when 50-Cent were much more expensive than a hundred dollars.

I was tired of the junk they belted out today - Lady Gaga, Pussycat dolls, Greenday...

I think I'm getting too old for music.

The Hunt

2010-03-16T15:15:00.002+05:30

So I had these useless pair of sunglasses that I had left at home thinking I'd take them to my trusted optometrist and have them re-glassed (pun unintended). Unfortunately I couldn't for the life of me remember in which 'safe' place I had last secreted them.

So this time, when I got home, I tore my room apart (literally) - reorganised the wardrobe, looked in all the suitcases, all drawers, underneath my study table, under the bed and under the mattress for good measure. Alas, I didn't find them anywhere. I decided to start looking in the other rooms as well.

At the end of a gruelling four hours, my house was in quite a mess. I even found my Mont Blanc pen that I had kept 'safely' seven years ago. But no sunglasses. Tired, I reluctantly gave in to the conclusion that it was nowhere in this house, but my other one instead. After another hour of putting things back in their rightful places, I espied a bright yellow plastic bag sitting cozily on the mantelpiece. I quickly tore it open and lo and behold, my sunglasses popped out!!

Of muddy shoes and sweaty shirts

2010-03-14T13:51:00.002+05:30

What moron would bother waking up at 6 in the morning, on a holiday that too, just to go outside and run?

Yeah. Me.

But I really like that. Not the waking up part, but all that other stuff I do when I have managed to pry my eyes open and shake my brain awake. I am really addicted to running outdoors and when you have a beautiful stadium dedicated to that purpose and a great pair of Nikes to go with it, you sort of manage to overcome the dreadful ordeal of waking up early.

So now, I manage to do a 5km run in 30 minutes which is quite an improvement.

The Foreigner

2010-03-08T18:30:00.003+05:30

A bunch of us had gone off on a holiday to Mysore and surrounding areas to give our English boss a taste of India. Everything was hunky dory till we reached ticket counters of various places. We used to be sized up and the attendants used to ask for 2 foreigner ticket prices. Who was the second foreigner? Apparently it was me. Remember my shady shades?

Well, at least they didn't ask me for the alien price!

The phone

2010-03-07T11:58:00.002+05:30

The phone rang at precisely 3.12 am. I opened a bleary eye and glared at it before moving to see which counfounded idiot had decided to wake me up. It was the CCT. I mentally sighed and hoped it wasn't a big outage.
It wasn't. Our pal was calling me up to ask me if they took care of development environments. We don't. Idiot. I all but threw my phone down and snuggled back into bed.

It rang again at 3.45am.

This time, it was a big outage.

Oh well.

Love

2010-03-07T11:54:00.002+05:30

So I feel fast and fall hard. You can't blame me for being the intuitive/sensing type. At least now I don't have expectations anymore. That should count as progress, shouldn't it?

Questions, questions

2010-03-06T15:50:00.002+05:30

Have you ever been influenced by someone you didn't even know? Ever been mesmerised in the short acquaintance of a day? Ever seen someone through eyes not clouded by filters of country, race and culture? Ever observed the real person behind the facade he presents to the world? Ever been open and honest about life and joked away the miseries? Shared your thoughts without realising or without meaning to? Broken rules and had fun? Just plain listened? Held hands and felt emotions dancing through you? Laughed at yourself? Empathised with those less fortunate? Been a baby for a change instead of a responsible adult?

Yes, my weekend was rather action packed.

Car-eer

2010-02-17T21:29:00.002+05:30

A successful career is very much like a good car.
1. It requires you to have a tough exterior
2. It cannot flourish without a regular infusion of spirit
3. It needs to have a well established baseline
4. The moment you think you have achieved something, you realise it has become outdated.
5. A six-month counselling is required to ensure it runs smoothly
6. You are always worried you are going to lose it.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

2010-02-17T21:23:00.002+05:30

My lonely Valentine's Day. The coffee was good though.

7 habits of highly effective procrastinators

2010-02-15T22:03:00.000+05:30

1. I'll tell you about it later.

Strawberries

2010-02-11T22:21:00.002+05:30

I decided to put my kannada speaking skills to good use one day when I espied rows of sparkling red strawberries in the vegetable market.

"How much are these?" I asked in perfect kannada.

The vendor looked at me suspiciously and replied "35" in English.

I glared at him. If I had asked that question in English, he would have given me an incomprehensible reply, I thought darkly.

"Give me those that are sweet" I asked again, this time in broken kannada.

Our pal grinned and rattled off a stream of verbage.

"Er, yeah, I will take this one" I said with the confidence I was far from feeling by now. "And I want it for 30 rupees, 35 is too expensive".

He smirked. For all the entertainment I was providing to him with my broken kannada, he didn't hesitate to give me the required discount.

I picked up the strawberries and strode off extremely pleased with my bargaining.

Beauty lies

2010-02-08T22:47:00.002+05:30

"You are beautiful", he murmured, black eyes gazing intensely into mine.

I turned around and looked to my left and right. 'Wonder who he was talking to'I thought idly.

He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face up to meet his still intense gaze. "Yes, you. You are beautiful. You are."

I thought he had finally taken leave of his senses. I pushed my thick eye-glasses firmly up my nose and looked at him in mild annoyance.

"For the last time, I am NOT going to do your homework for you" I declared pompously.

"Darn", he grinned, "it was worth a try anyway", and gobbled up the rest of his tiffin box.

Much ado about nothing

2010-02-08T22:44:00.004+05:30

Ever tried stuffing your butt into a pair of jeans three sizes too small? That seems to be the story of my life lately. I always am at a loss to know whether I shall fit into tomorrow what I am fitting into today. But then, variety is the spice of life isn't it?

No more spices for me thank you. I am on a diet.

The day I gobbled up a whole plateful of biryani

2010-02-06T20:18:00.000+05:30

oooooooooo........don't ask me anything else.....I'm still sitting in the loo.

Shady Shades

2010-02-02T22:13:00.002+05:30

So, remember how the monkeys snatched my fancy glares? I went for 2 months without any. Then I decided that I had to get my lazy butt off the couch and do some legwork. I called up my old faithful shop.

Just my luck - the technician who had made my eyeglasses (and that's another long story for another day) had quit and opened a business of his own. I decided to go to him directly and get my new shades made.

I had a hard time finding his shop and an even harder time finding something that would suit my face. All those fancy shmancy glasses made me look like batman. After an hour of scouring the shop (and I can recollect with distinct clarity the sigh of relief) I found one that didn't make me look like an alien. Quick orders were placed and I waited impatiently over the next few days to get my brand new glasses.

He got it all wrong. I couldn't see a thing. The power was wrong, the fitting was wrong, there was a chip in a lens, just about everything was off. I was pissed. He gave me a fancy story about curvature and I then selected a pair of nerdy looking frames and asked him to redo the whole thing at no extra cost.

He agreed and within 2 days, delivered the new shades to my house.

They work.

I am protected from the sunlight.

I also look like an alien.

30th Jan 2010

2010-02-02T22:11:00.001+05:30

It was the brightest full moon of the decade. I was really excited. Tried real hard to get some pics. Check out my photoblog to see what I managed to capture!

Avatar

2010-01-11T21:38:00.001+05:30

YAWN. I don't quite know what all that hoopla is all about. Its not even an interesting movie. And does it have any 3D effects at all? No sir-ee! Mr Cameroon please look at the dictionary the next time before you start with the script. While you are at it, try getting someone to write a story too.

Running

2009-12-19T13:35:00.002+05:30

Running is good and all, no doubt. But look what havoc it wrecks! And all this muck still hasn't gone despite scrubbing away to glory.

Hound of the Baskervilles

2009-12-12T11:56:00.002+05:30

Half way through this book, I was half scared, half jittery, half dying to know what would happen next. It is one of my favourite Sherlock Holmes stories. Of course, when you are a kid of 12, silly things like hounds can scare you senseless. You can't get scared of all that when you are a mature responsible adult.

Mostly, anyway.

So here I am, a Modesty Blaise in flesh and blood, living in a swanking apartment in a quiet neighbourhood. All is well until midnight strikes. And then, the night silence is shattered by the ominous baying of a million dogs.

Owww...Oooo.....oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Let me tell you, when the confederation of mongrels decides to hold an olympic baying match in the wee hours, it takes all your willpower to not scramble in a mad dash to hide under the bed.

So I do what any mature responsible adult does - plug my ipod in at a really really loud volume, dunk my head in half a dozen pillows and pray.

And somewhere in the midst of all that chaos, blessed sleep washes over.

Lazy Lazy Lazy

2009-12-12T11:54:00.001+05:30

In other words, LAZY! That's generally how I prefer my weekends. Nice and slow, late mornings and later nights, books, movies and shopping galore!

Monkeying around

2009-11-28T10:37:00.002+05:30

I was out holidaying in the mountains. The crisp cold air, the misty roads, the bundles of warm clothing, the occassional hot cuppa - it was heavenly. Literally. That is, until I came to be swamped in a conspiracy.

Conspiracy in the mountains?

I stepped out of the cab to take some photographs. I was looking all dapper in my cooling glasses and muffler and all and thought a pic of me in the mountains was all that Vogue was looking for. I took off my James Bond shades to adjust the camera. All of a sudden, without warning, a huge - and I mean gigantic - monkey strode up to me, dragged me down by my muffler and snatched my glares out of my hand. Before I had time to blink, it scampered off to join its sniggering buddies.

I was non-plussed for a moment. Then my face turned varying shades of purple as my anger slowly escalated. Before I could utter a feral snarl and lunge at those creatures, my cabbie told me to sit back in the car and that he would retrieve my shades in a jiffy.

I watched interestedly as he grabbed a huge stick and started doing a rain dance around the monkeys. Within minutes, the offending creature dropped my shades and ran off. My cabbie picked them up and proudly presented them to me.

The earpiece was gone, they wouldn't fit properly and there were scratches on the lens. I sighed. Well, it was about time I got a new pair of shades anyway.

Twilight

2009-11-06T15:01:00.002+05:30

I quite liked the Twilight series by Stephanie Mayer until I saw the movie. Ew...the Edward I was so in love with made me puke. Couldn't they have come up with a more suitable person to play that role? Gah!

Happy Diwali

2009-10-20T20:14:00.002+05:30

May the lamps light up your life. Wish you a very happy and prosperous Diwali!

Doused in Ghee

2009-09-27T10:24:00.005+05:30

Wining and Dining in five star hotels gets rather boring after a couple of times. You've seen one 5* hotel, you've seen them all. The trick to really enjoying local culture and blending into the real spirit of India is in doing things as locals do.

One of the things I discovered in one such gastronomic adventure was the freshly brewed coffee at the local Darshinis. Till date, I make a beeline to a tiffin house whenever I want some good coffee.

One day, a friend took me to Vidyarthi Bhavan in Jayanagar for ghee-dosa. I'm not a big fan of dosas, least of all one that's got ghee in it - what with my unsuccessful attempts at keeping the rapidly expanding waistline in check - but I tagged along anyway.

VB is a rather tiny place for one of the most popular dosa joints in Bangalore. They have strict timings too. Often, the place has a huge queue long before opening time (that's 6 a.m folks). I was rather amazed. What killed me though, came next.

A ghee dosa to end all ghee dosas! This dosa broke all traditional norms - it was small, it was crisp and brown, it was thick and it had ghee pouring out of it like sambhar. It was served with coconut chutney and some potato dish.

The mere sight of this plate was enough to fill my tummy. As my friend grinned at my deer-in-the-headlight stare, I gingerly poked a finger through the hot dish and pinched out a mouthful.

Once that morsel had passed my lips though, there was no turning back. It was about as tasty as it could ever get. I motioned to the waiter to keep them coming while I gobbled them up faster than you could blink.

After a mighty fruitful (or should I say dosa-ful) half hour, I was on my way out to the mall, fully tanked up to do some heavy duty shopping!

And the hell with the waistline!

Strange phenomena

2009-09-27T10:22:00.004+05:30

Yesterday, when I had gone to the terrace to stroll in the cool breeze, there was neither coolness or any good breeze blowing. However, there was something I am not likely to forget for quite some time.

Millions and millions and zillions of crows.

I shook my head, polished my glasses, blinked my eyes and looked again.

Yep. Millions and millions and zillions of crows. Big, black and purposeful crows. Low flying, high flying and seated crows. Cawing, quiet and fighting crows. As far as the eye could see the sky was just buzzing with crows.

I tried to find some pattern to this horror scene, but there was none. The crows were flying all over buildings, in all the areas as far as the eye could see. This couldn't be good, I thought. What if they have sensed some natural disaster waiting to happen and are agitated? What if there's going to be lightning striking down on the earth? Or maybe an earthquake? Or perhaps an unseasonal downpour? What if there's a huge storm?

I shuddered and tried to get those nasty images out of my mind. One thing I agreed was true and that was these crows looked agitated. This was no wassup-dude-long-time-no-see flying match. This was an out and out oh-my-god flying style.

I kept observing the crows for about an hour and watching out for any change in signs. I was still troubled at this inexplicable phenomenon. Then suddenly, all the crows disappeared.

My cellphone chimed. It was my friend from a different country.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, you won't believe what I saw today"
"You won't believe what I saw today" I replied thinking I had a much better story to tell. "You go first though. Wassup?"
"There were a million crows flying about an hour ago....."

I gave up. There were somethings the mind shouldn't even attempt explaining.

Ten things I carry in my purse

2009-09-26T22:21:00.002+05:30

1. Sleeping bag/blanket/pillow
2. Mousetrap
3. Dish antenna
4. Coconut
5. Cymbals
6. Pocket TV
7. Samurai sword
8. Ball of wool
9. Half a chopstick
10. Cooling glasses

Nine Yards of Trouble

2009-09-02T18:03:00.004+05:30

So you think wearing a sari comes naturally to women? Hah! Not on your life. When 'normal' things are applied in my context, they cease to be normal anymore. The laws of physics can hold good only so much after all.

I had to attend my best friend's engagement and turn up in a sari. The mere thought of it gave me sleepless nights for a month. When the E-day finally arrived, I was probably more nervous than the bride-to-be. The parlour lady had to tie and retie my sari twice because I wouldn't stand still. Then she poked me with a million pins to keep my sari in place. All this time, I was undergoing torture with a big smile pasted on my face. At least my friend was going to go through worse, I thought sadistically when I saw her making faces in the mirror.

There, so now I was all decked up. But don't ask me to move!

Musing

2009-09-01T20:28:00.001+05:30

Mmmm......mm..........MMMMMMMMMMMMM..........mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....mmmmmMMM....M.....mmmmm.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Numerology

2009-09-01T19:23:00.002+05:30

In college, I was facinated with the divine numbers - Phi, pi, i, Armstrong number, angstrom number, Plank's constant, Kelvin...the list was endless. I decided to add a few other definitions to this ever-increasing list.

1. Hugh Jackman number - the number that has the most perfect symmetry no matter how badly written. Often, among a bunch of numbers, this number stands out in all its glory.

2. Jay Leno number - the number that just can't stop talking.

3. Superman number - the number that reduces other numbers to zero upon performing a mathematical operation.

4. Tom and Jerry number - the numbers that always go in pairs.

5. Peter Sellers number - the number that takes different forms in different mathematical operations and is generally recognised for popping out in the most unexpected of results.

6. Rambo number - the number that when used effectively in a division operation, reduces all complex mathematical formalae to 1.

7. Sharon Stone number - the number that is generally used as a decoy in trick questions. It has the ability to distract the student from the right answer.

8. George Bush number - this is not a number really. Its another word for "question mark".

9. Pamela Anderson number - erm....46-24-36?

10. Kate Moss number - the number that remains the same no matter how much you add or multiply it. Also called "size zero".

Twitter

2009-08-19T12:55:00.004+05:30

So I did what every other netizen is doing - create my own Twitter account. You can now follow me on http://twitter.com/rshivani also if you don't have anything better to do. I tweet about as frequently as I blog.

Q: What are people who use Twitter called?
A: Twits!

Baby's day out

2009-07-31T18:26:00.003+05:30

I could barely sit still today. I had only 2 meetings and both of them got cancelled as the other party wasn't available. Being the quick and efficient worker that I am, I had already closed on most of the work for the day. Suddenly, a friend at office had a brainwave.

"Why don't we go outside for a late lunch?"
"Why?"
"Well, its good networking, we can get to know each other better and besides, my wife forgot to pack me lunch today."
"Aha...Hey a, b, c, you wanna come along?"
"Where?"
"Oh, anywhere, as long as its out of office. Its Friday after all!"
"Let's go!"

With considerable enthusiasm, the four of us made our way to the basement parking, while all the time furiously debating on where to go. We finally decided to go to the Forum Value mall that had recently opened at Hope Farm.

The outing was great! We had good food (burp!) and a nice trip to a new place. Besides, I sneaked in some super-fast shopping while the guys weren't looking! All in all a mighty successful prelude to the weekend!

Proverbs- what they REALLY mean

2009-07-31T12:00:00.003+05:30

What they say...
A rolling stone gathers no moss
What they mean...
A rolling stone is too busy rolling to be able to pay attention to doing silly things like gathering moss (ugh)

What they say...
Too many cooks spoil the broth
What they mean...
Because they were concentrating on sauteed vegetables, broiled chicken and spaghetti instead of the broth

What they say...
All that glitters is not gold
What they mean...
Don't forget there are gorgeous diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds and the pope's shiny bald pate.

What they say...
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
What they mean...
And the mind forget

Songs

2009-07-29T12:59:00.004+05:30

And today, we talk about songs! I've been listening and re-listening to a lot of music these days, what with the 2 hour power cuts in the evening and all. Well then, here goes....

The songs that never fail to make me swing
Candy Shop, Disco Inferno, In da club (50 cent)
Engel, Kokain, Du hast (Rammstein)
My resurrection (Ill Nino)
What the hell, most heavy metal numbers! :-)

The songs that make me cry
Sometimes love just aint enough (Patty Smith)
If I never see you again (wet wet wet)

Radical song
Three little pigs (Green Jelly)

Slow and sexy
Voodoo Lady (Live)
Evidence (Faith no more)
Feel like makin' love (Bad Company)
The look of love (Burt Bacharach)

Soft and romantic
And I love her (Beatles)
If I fell in love with you (Beatles)
Something stupid (Frank and Nancy Sinatra)
You fill up my senses (John Denver)

Books

2009-07-28T15:39:00.003+05:30

Which book am I reading now?
Twilight Vows (Maggie Shayne)

Last mind-blowing book I read
Twilight (Stephanie Mayer). The rest of the books in this series suck.

My all time favourite character
Dirk Pitt

My all time favourite comic series
Archies

What I would not mind reading
Faraway Tree (Enid Blyton)....yes!!

I absolutely hate
Self help books

I can't do without
Arthur Hailey, Clive Cussler, Alistair McLean, Tom Clancy, Jeffery Archer, Frederic Forsythe, John Mortimer

The book that made me think
Are you kidding? Nothing can make me do that!

If I write a book, it will be like
The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Michael Jackson

2009-07-22T11:48:00.003+05:30

I grew up listening to MJ. I used to love those beats and his awesome dancing. In fact, I used to think Grammy Awards was all about him and nothing else!

His brand of music and dance will be sorely missed.

Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince

2009-07-22T11:47:00.003+05:30

I was really excited. I mean, really really excited. With a capital E-X-C-I-T-E-D. In other words, I was excited.

Why? Because Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince was releasing over the weekend. And I'm a great fan of Harry Potter. So I got a ticket and waited with bated breath and a tub of chilli popcorn and some coke and a cup of cappuccino and fries and a burger for the movie to begin.

Ten minutes later, I had finished all my food and was itching for the movie to end. Never in my life have I seen a worse movie. The characters were least interested in acting, the story line was skewed, all unimportant things were highlighted as the main story while the main story was nowhere to be seen. A lot of scenes were shown as they never happened in the book and the end result was a pain in the butt.

I may not be the gourmet connoiseur of movies but I can spot (or rather feel) a pain in the butt when I come across it. And this movie was definitely it.

At the end of those agonizing hours, all I could remember was how good the popcorn tasted and how refreshed I was feeling after a much needed sleep in the AC.

Roach Researches

2009-07-17T21:14:00.004+05:30

Continuing on my research of the Denizen of the Ditch, the elusive cockroach, I searched far and wide for scientific experts who could help me with my PhD.

Luckily for me, while celebrating the treasure hunt win with my bunch of buddies, who should I come across but the famous Resident Roach Researcher of all time! I was very excited. Finally I was going to be able to ask questions the answers to which that had forever eluded me!

Over some delicious biryani, he began to explain while I furiously scribbled away on my notepad.

"It is the strongest creature you know"
"If the world were destroyed in a nuclear disaster, guess which is the only creature that can survive? Yes, the cockroach. But he will soon die within 8 days. Why? Lack of good food..."
"Very adaptable"
"Has amazing mimicing abilities"
"Exoskeletal structure makes it difficult to crush to death"
"Capacity to generate its own sustenance"

I looked up at the Researcher in wonder and amazement. Finally I was going to be able to complete my PhD.

My Pet Lizard

2009-07-15T11:59:00.003+05:30

Well, so I'm a little different. Stop looking so scandalised. They make really good pets, once you get over your fear.

I was wondering how to solve the problem of boredom when I suddenly espied a huge shape moving over the wall. I looked carefully. It was the most massive, eerie-looking, tan coloured lizard I have ever seen. It was probably more muscular than I'll ever manage to be and I shrank away, dazed.

Then it slowly danced all over the place, eating up mosquitoes and cockroaches. Realisation dawned and I promptly fell in love with Sam. My pet lizard.

I won!

2009-07-15T11:57:00.000+05:30

Finally!
I'm really big on extra curricular activities, especially when they eat into your work time. So I didn't hesitate for even a moment and jumped right into the 'Treasure Hunt' competition. We were given a bunch of photos clicked at various locations in the office and we had to find them within the allotted time of 20 minutes.

That sounded very easy till I saw the photos. They were miniscule bits of stuff, stretched out to form grainy, hardly recognisable shapes. So much so for being easy. Not to be put off though, we used our considerable brains and when that didn't work, we simply ran all over the place, looking.

And we wrapped the whole thing up in 9 minutes flat! We got a prize! And we are going celebrating this Friday. How's that for a great week?!

Hellsmoking Hot

2009-07-09T22:11:00.001+05:30

Sigh, like a god he rose from the water - hot, gorgeous and downright delicious. His smoldering eyes shot flame darts at me while I simpered incoherently in a corner, mind benumbed by the sight of his powerful shoulders moving in slow grace even as the water dripped lazily down his washboard abs.

Then the power went off and my TV conked out. Hmph. So much so for my movie.

Sweet Surrender

2009-07-09T22:10:00.001+05:30

I never thought dieting would be so difficult. Not only do I have to give up on all the delectable dishes I so love gorging on, I have to eat all sorts of disgusting junk (health food, my foot!).

So when I finally chanced upon a slab of chocolate cake, unwittingly of course, I decided to surrender myself to the temptation....aaahhh....that tasted so good!

Roach Battle Strategy

2009-07-07T20:31:00.004+05:30

Back on popular demand.

We spoke about how to go about killing a cockroach. As you know, Planning is the most important task in any project. You first need to make sure you have thought through all alternatives, possibilities, scenarios and have prepared contingency plans to address them.

1. Know your enemy: This is an absolute must. How well you know your enemy directly translates into how efficiently you can execute him. Spend a few months studying all there is to know about cockroaches through books, internet and online discussion forums. Interview people who have encountered cockroaches and gain valuable insights from their experiences.

2. Understand his mind: You must know the mind of your enemy. What will his reaction be to a loud noise? What will he do when cornered? Which way does he run to throw you off-track? Where does he hide during the day? What does he like to eat?

3. Anticipate his moves: After you have studied for a sufficiently long time (time enough to earn you a PhD if it had been some mundane subject like Economics) you should have sharpened your skills to be able to anticipate his moves. You can't stand at the battleground with your laptop and feed in complex permutations and combinations when the cockroach is busy crawling up your bare leg.

4. Be prepared: Always. You never know when you will be attacked. Get to the state of unconscious competence. This comes with years of training and hard work. I wasn't kidding about the 2-hour, thrice a day workout regimen.

5. Revel in the sweet taste of revenge: Make sure to take adequate number of photographs with your dead enemy to show friends and well-wishers. This will give you unprecedented popularity and will boost your macho-image. You could even dedicate a website and give people tips on how to battle this menace.

To Kill a Mocking Roach

2009-07-07T20:13:00.006+05:30

While most people squirm at the thought of fighting dragons and monsters, I bravely plunge into battle, slicing the enemy to pieces with my sledge hammer.

In my dreams, of course.

Facing the cockroach though, is an entirely different matter. It requires a certain precision, years of practice, talent, skill and a very cold calculating mind. Oh, and an asbestos stomach. This is serious stuff we are discussing. We want to decimate the Denizen of the Ditch with weapons, not vomit.

Now then, here's your step-by-step guide:
1. Weapons. This is the most important thing ever. You hardly want to master all tricks and then stand blubbering in front of the cockroach without a weapon in your hands. Get yourself a pair of military combat boots. If you can't, a pair of women's high heels does the trick just as efficiently.

2. Stealth. You can't go stomping around announcing your arrival to the whole roach kingdom of three lands. You gotta be smooth and sneaky about it. Approach roach with the weapon quietly, very quietly.

3. Precision. You gotta know where to aim. You gotta anticipate the roach's moves, its thoughts, its actions. Read my comprehensive guide to Roach Battle Strategy for more information on tactics.

4. Speed. You must, absolutely must be faster than the roach! Its quite no point mastering 1-3 if you can't keep pace with the creature, is there? Get your lazy butt off the couch and start working out at the gym for 2 hours, three times a day.

5. Smash. This is the final step. You sneak up on the roach with the weapon, aim for the heart and speedily execute the "Smash". There can be no room for error or you'll be smashing all over the floor while the roach and his teenage pals snigger at you from a safe distance.

Execute 1-5 with aplomb and you can be guaranteed a pest-free home.

Life goes on

2009-07-07T20:06:00.003+05:30

It creaked, groaned and fluttered
Wailed, vibrated and shuddered
Constricted, grew cold, whimpered
Begged, pleaded then surrendered.

My heart, shattered,
Smashed to smithereens
While life goes on, unfeeling.

The Me

2009-07-07T20:03:00.001+05:30

My brain just doesn't work on Mondays and Fridays. On other days, I forget to bring it to office.

Sense and Sensibility

2009-07-07T19:58:00.003+05:30

Did it ever occur to you that whatever is good for you, or practical, is almost always hideous-looking or awful tasting? All those times you were told to "eat your vegetables" when all you wanted to do was gorge on cookies and chips? Remember when you wanted so desperately to wear high heels even though you had to walk for 2 kilometers to get to the bus stop? Or how about all those disgusting books that had to be read and re-read and re-re-read for those awful "character building" examinations?

Sense and sensibility? hah, more like Nonsense and Nonsensitivity.

Renamed

2009-07-02T21:35:00.001+05:30

Hello all,
I decided to rename my blog. Had got tired of the same title. The new URL is:

http://moi-musings.blogspot.com though of course if you are reading this, you already know!

Hehehe....just checking to see how many of you are really awake.

Cheers!

Check this out

2009-06-17T12:45:00.002+05:30

http://shivanir.blogspot.com

This is my photo blog.

The Spacebar

2009-06-17T12:29:00.002+05:30

I wonder why the spacebar key is so big. I mean, there is something like the aesthetic appeal of the keyboard too, dammit! No symmetry in anything at all. Now look at the alphabets. All in similar sizes neatly stacked. Then the numbers and special characters. So far so good. But when it comes to the spacebar...whoa! What were those guys thinking anyway? I bet the chief designer fell asleep at his desk and drew a rather longish key than he meant to (or would have if he had been awake) and suddenly some copier from somewhere got activated by the sleepy flick of his wrist and printed a million copies of the design. And then a gust of wind blew one of the designs into the printing press and another million copies of the same were printed. Our design-man, meanwhile was still happily sleeping. Then another gust of wind blew a copy of the design on the boss' desk and he had a look at it without his glasses on, decided his chief designer must have done a great job as always and approved it. What happened after that is history. Er, well actually it’s the present and future too as far as I can see.

Moral of the story - keep office windows shut to keep gusts of wind out.

Ban-galore

2009-06-12T16:16:00.003+05:30

I was beginning to think they had spent considerable amount of thought while naming the city.
1. Pubs and discos are closed at 11:30PM, a time when most party-going mortals start to leave their homes.
2. Dancing is banned everywhere. If you so much as tap your foot standing on the bus-stop, you will be jailed for unethical behaviour.
3. There are no new movies showing. When they eventually manage to find their way to the city, the third sequels have already hit the TV channels.
4. Every other road is dug up for the metro. If it isn't dug up for the metro, it is dug up for civic work. If it isn't dug up at all, it is choked with traffic. Oh well.

Little wonder that they call this garden city Ban-Galore?

On The Warpath

2009-06-04T17:38:00.002+05:30

Normally, I am quite chicken. One day though, I had to absolutely get to the refrigerator to put some goodies into my growling tummy, when what should I see but the hugest, most hideous and decidedly nasty cockroach perched guard outside the fridge door.

I nearly fainted with fright. However, my stomach didn't quite like the thought of starving just because some despicable creature from the insect kingdom decided to stake its claim on its share of food and let out a particularly loud growl.

I hesitantly approached the cockroach with a huge weapon (left shoe with pointy toes and big heel) for my protection and started muttering soothing adjectives in the hope of budging the creature from its perch.

Alas, but to no avail! He glared at me with murder in its eye and I hastily stepped back to re-strategize. Praying feverently, I decided I should imitate Jackie Chan and land a good one on the offending roach. I creeped up slowly and raised my weapon....

SMASH!!!!!

Praise be to Allah, it worked!!

My tummy is now rather snug and happy, thank you.

Out of time

2009-06-01T21:17:00.002+05:30

My watch ran out of battery. And I ran out of time.

Airlift

2009-05-30T17:32:00.004+05:30

I worried myself sick. I had to get to the airport and hadn't a clue as to how to do it in the cheapest possible way without too many hassles. I then decided upon taking a shared cab. Unfortunately, I had to drag all of my luggage for a full 10 minutes to get to my pick up point. At 1:45PM with the sun blistering down on me, my brains had all but evaporated and so had my patience.

I heaved a sigh of relief when I sat in the A/c comfort of the cab at 2. I assumed we would be taking the shortest possible route but the driver had a mind of his own. He went all the way to Kormangala for the last pick up and then all over MG Road and my other shopping destinations. By this time I was seriously wondering if I had flagged down the right cab, but then I espied a signboard indicating airport at another 33kms and settled down to enjoy the journey.

I plugged in my ipod and was enjoying myself immensely. Other than roaming all over Bangalore, everything else was perfect. Until it started raining.

It poured like there was no tomorrow. I got a little drenched in the little time I was out in it, running from the cab to the airport building. Yeah, but I did make it in time. Not a bad option for my next travel.

Vampire Bites

2009-05-26T14:37:00.003+05:30

My latest craze are these vampire books where our hero is a suave, gadget toting, smoking hot, worldly wise vampire who puts Adonis and Bond to shame. These vampires are quite different from our Dracula series:
1. They have no issues with sunlight
2. They do cast reflections in mirrors and can be photographed
3. They are "vegetarian" - they drink animal blood only
4. They are handsomer than Adonis, Narcissus and Hugh Jackman all rolled into one
5. They can run like the wind, some can vanish at will
6. Some have special abilities like mind-reading

No wonder then that our average superheroes are no match!

Sleepy Sundays

2009-05-25T13:02:00.003+05:30

Probably the thing I love most about Sundays is that I get to sleep as long as I want to without a care in the world. That it is also a holiday and a day away from work in no way dampens the charm of the day, but then, that bit is rather obvious.

My Sunday ritual is sacred to me. I wake up around 10 or 11, depending on how loudly my tummy growls. After a leisurely breakfast of tea, bread, biscuits (to the accompaniment of a juicy thriller novel that is glued to my eyes from the minute they open on Sunday), I stretch out on the bed and bury myself wholeheartedly and without interruptions into the aforementioned novel.

A few hours later, my tummy signals time for lunch and I go back to eating and yes, reading. Post lunch I read (surprise, surprise) and read till its time for dinner. By this time, I have finished my novel and am at the TV watching some six packs with relish.

Can you top this?

Soaked

2009-05-25T12:54:00.003+05:30

My raincoats never lasted beyond a month. Its surprising how quickly I can manage to tear up holes in the most difficult of places. Some say its a knack. Me, I say its, well, me. My exasperated mom managed to get me through school without me getting drenched but when it was time for college, she gave up. My uncle got this bright idea to make me act like a responsible adult and bought me a shiny red umberella for my 16th birthday.

I was excited. Not only was it my favourite color, but it was dotted with beautiful yellow flowers and was the epitome of cheerfulness itself. I loved it.

However, it didn't quite solve the problem of preventing me from getting drenched. For one, I could never for the life of me remember to carry it until it was forced into my hands. Two, whenever I did manage to remember to carry it, it never rained. Three, I left it lying around half the time, making my friends about as exasperated as my mom. Oh, Well. Time to hire a nanny.

Bandage Bondage

2009-05-10T20:46:00.004+05:30

There are two things I can't for the life of me master - one is directions, and one is getting down the stairs safely.

This weekend, I was going to put the garbage out when boom - I slipped down a flight of stairs without preamble. Did rather good for myself, only got a sprained ankle and a bruised hand. Cursing profusely as I slowly picked first myself and then the pieces of trash off me one by one, I hobbled to the dump to throw away the rubbish.

My slow climb back up the stairs was accompanied alternatively by unprintable expletives, painful grunts and the occassional shaking-of-the-fist-at-all-and-sundry. That I should have paid more attention to where I was planting my flat feet in the first place than getting agitated later had in no way dampened my murderous mutterings. Besides, I didn't let rational thoughts spoil my wonderful ill-humour. I cleaned up at home and proceeded to rub ointment and bandage my foot, vowing to be more careful the next time I ventured out.

A week later, as I was going out to get groceries, I promptly fell off the same staircase and added another couple of sprains to my collection.

Now, I am sitting at home cooling my heels with both legs swathed in bandages and both hands purple with bruises.

My Smiley Face

2009-05-01T17:29:00.003+05:30

Always the restless and dissatisfied with things they way they are, I lose no time or trouble over turning things the way I want them to be.

You should really take a look at my office desk. The whiteboard is covered with cartoons of Judgead, Moose, Mr Weatherbee, Calvin and Hobbes and all other sorts of rubbish you expect to find in a kid's playroom than the cube of a Lead Project Manager.

But then again, by virtue of being me, these eccentricities are best forgotten. So, here's my latest addition to my world - I call him Pee-Ping Tom. He is Chinese. Well, second generation Chinese if you want to get picky about the big eyes. His job is to remind me all people are morons and to laugh at their stupidities instead of getting mad and all worked up in office.

Monday Morning Mauves

2009-05-01T16:55:00.007+05:30

What could be better than spending a day outside office on a Monday morning? Spending the day outside office on 'official business'!

It so happened that one of my clients was visiting India. I lost no time in making detailed plans on how to get to spend some time with her.

So, on the fated Monday, I picked her up at Oberoi and took her to Ebony for a leisurely lunch. How time flew! Before I knew it, we had already spent 2.5 hours eating and gossiping in the glorious 13th floor terrace, surrounded by attentive waiters and cool breeze.

I then drove her around for a while so she could see India and get a feel of what we are like.

When I finally dropped her back to Oberoi and reached home, it was already 6 PM. A mighty satisfactory day I must say.

Purple Haze

2009-05-01T16:55:00.006+05:30

Its infuriating when you long to go to a nice disco and they ban all forms of dancing. Worse still, there's no decent place that plays your kind of music. Never mind if your tastes are out of this world, we shan't let minor points like that ruin a perfectly good whining session. Little wonder that I just didn't feel like going to a disc for the last three years. Till now that is.

I met an old friend and we both decided to go out for dinner. He picked a place close to my house that I didn't even know existed - and it was this smashing pub Purple Haze! This was a branch fo the same chain that's in the city and I was thrilled to bits. They play hard rock here and ever since smoking has been banned in public places, these pubs and discs have become altogether more attractive to me.

So we hung out at this huge lounge bar and he sipped whiskey while I wolfed down huge slices of sandwich. And all the while we had Metallica, Hoobastank, Pink Floyd in the background. Bliss, what?

Mundane Mondays

2009-05-01T16:53:00.003+05:30

Somehow, no matter what happens, I just can't bring myself to get to work on Monday mornings. Apart from the fact that I am just recovering from the activities of a most pleasurable weekend, the whole thought of getting back into the groove unnerves me. There are endless meetings, disgusting food, traffic jams and unfinished piles of laundry.

Monday blues? hah, blue at least is a color. Mondays are Mundane.

The Guns of Chikmagalur

2009-02-10T18:29:00.004+05:30

When you book into a homestay on a vacation to the nearby hillstations, you envisage yourself being surrounded by greenery - birds chirping, cattle grazing, pretty butterflies fluttering around, fresh crisp breeze playing with your hair, refreshing aroma of freshly made coffee and what not.
Being the kind that attracts everything out of the ordinary, it would scarcely suprise you if I were to say that this wasn't quite what happened at the nice quiet homestay I had booked into.

I found a couple of guns. One was a normal fairly harmless airgun, and the other was a shotgun.

Sadly there was no ammunition. Darn.

Take a ride - Chikmagalur

2009-02-10T18:19:00.003+05:30

We decided to dedicate a weekend to the joys of the hills. Thanks to the internet, we managed to find a hill station that wasn't at the other end of the world and that sounded like we wouldn't be required to climb up and down some dumb mountains to see sights all day. We settled on Chikmagalur and thus begun our journey into the wilderness...

As a seasoned traveller, I would like to share some nuggets of wisdom with you - if you have planned a trip at the last moment, some things are bound to go wrong. We didn't disappoint Mr Murphy. In fact, we did a lot better - we didn't let a single thing go right.

For starters, the so-called AC cab hadn't a patch of AC in it. Then we lost our way twice before we could reach the right town. When we did, the homestay we had booked turned out to be situatied in the farthermost regions of abandoned coffee plantations. To top it all off, it was hotter than the inside of a microwave popping pop-corn. Ah, well. At least it was a vacation.

Back Again!

2009-01-16T22:09:00.003+05:30

I had almost forgotten I had a blog. It so happens, that these days I am working rather hard for a change. That I am working at all in the first place is in itself a mystery I have failed to fathom till now.
Must be Providence. Fate. Or Murphy's Law acting in reverse.
Anyway, I was browsing around on Orkut when I realised that a certain URL looked rather interesting. I clicked it and there I was!

Obama vs Osama

2008-11-02T12:22:00.003+05:30

With all that song and dance about the upcoming presidential elections in the USA, it makes me wonder if Osama isn't more qualified to be the next boss. After all, the similarities between the dear mister Obama and the notorious Osama B L are astonishing:

1. The names are almost alike - that's a good start!
2. Neither is white
3. Both want to change the country they weren't born in
4. Both feel they were sent to the earth to make a difference
5. Neither talks about cuts in the defence budget, make more bombs and use them is their mantra
6. Both have a very complex strategy to win public votes - use of brawn
7. You never know where they will land up next
8. Perfect movie making material
9. Great dialogues
10. Rich

Much ado about nothing

2008-11-02T12:13:00.003+05:30

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As you have probably guessed by now, there wasn't much really that I wanted to write.

हैप्पी दिवाली!!

2008-10-28T13:40:00.002+05:30

आप सभी को दीपावली की बहुत बहुत शुभकामनायें !

The Break

2008-10-28T13:23:00.004+05:30

Unlike the quick 5 minute tea breaks twice a day and a half an hour break for lunch that most persons in my profession are accustomed to (considering they tend to avoid wasting time - working 20 hours a day does sort of sap your energy a bit), my group makes a statement. We take a half hour break for tea at least thrice a day and a 1-2 hour break for lunch.

Not that we have no work to do - no siree! We have more work than the local government of three countries put together but minor things like that don't stand in the way of efficiency. Not at all.

It all started when one of our Einsteins read an article in the newspaper extolling the virtues of taking breaks while working to keep the mind and body fresh. He quickly called a meeting and we unanimously agreed that this was the primary reason we weren't getting enough awards. We started off our new routine immediately. We saunter into office around 11 when most others are preparing to get ready for lunch and convene for the first share-the-news tea break session. At 1, we go off for lunch followed by a leisurely walk around the campus. At 3 again, its time for our cuppa. By 4 of course all of us have already gone home.

When do we work? Don't be silly. How can you keep stress away if you work? Take a break!

Diwali Dhamakas

2008-10-28T13:12:00.003+05:30

Most persons have a different kind of Dhamaka in mind when they talk of Diwali. It has more to do with the crackers and candles and the umpteen different types of noise producing fireworks than anything else.

But me, being a tad different from all and sundry and with an IQ of above average as recently determined (I was pissed I wasn't a genius, I'm sure that dumb test was all conked out), I tend to associate the word Dhamaka with something a little more explosive.

So here I am, back at home, gorging on mouth watering delicacies - the gujjias, the peanut pattis, the laddoos, the barfis, not to mention the vada-pav, bhel, pulao, chole and other such rich dishes designed to appease the strictest of palates. I eat as if my life depends on it. Is it a wonder that post Diwali my weight increases in multiples of 100? That's some Dhamaka!

Happy Diwali!

And yeah, I'm going on a diet. Again.