To every thing there is a season

We conked out in the semi-finals. I played very badly, I just could not concentrate.

Yesterday was a day of deaths. My landlord's old father died all of a sudden and then mum called up and told me that about the sudden death of one of her friends' husband. Life sure is funny. One wonders why people have to make it unpleasant when in the end nothing remains. So you might as well have a jolly good time while you can, and lead an uncomplicated life. I am the guru of pop suggestions and shorter remedies. Never forget that!

Green are we?

I'm very afraid of jealousy. Out of all emotions, I fear jealousy the most. The weird thing is that I am rarely jealous, but I sometimes feel that people are jealous about me for reasons I can not fathom. I have been harrassed in the past because of jealousy, though I do not know why. The past few months have been very unpleasant for me and I wish to put it behind me, but certain people are persisting in the harassment. I do not understand what they would achieve by it other than wasting their own time. I have learnt one bitter lesson in life - never to trust anyone. The past episode has taught me never, ever to be nice to people I do not know and to never trust strangers ever. I used to think that the world was essentially a nice place peopled with nice people. I was wrong. Most people are not nice and most men very vicious, especially on the Internet.

Karma

I won! I won! I won! I won both my matches yesterday. What was really nice was that in both the matches, my games were the decisive ones and I won it for my team. We are in the quarter finals now. I feel like such a superstar, which means that something bad will happen and deflate my enthusiasm. That is the scheme of things in my life usually.

Stilletoes

I've worn shoes with 2 1/2 inches heels today. The reason for doing so is so absurd that I simply have to record it here so that my never-to-be-born children can read this in the future and laugh at how weird their never-to-be-mother is. I have 2 darts matches today and the dartboard is fixed somewhat higher than my head in my stockinged feet height. Since I tend to overshoot slightly lower and more towards the right than the target, it helps if I have a lift and am taller. So hopefully, today should be better than yesterday.

My match will hopefully be better, but I haven't worn heels for ages and my feet are already feeling stressed out. Its going to be a long, long day!

New coat of paint

I have a horrible headache. My head feels it will burst into a million pieces any moment. Thank God for saridon!

I just realised that I follow a dress code unconsciously. It goes this way.

Everyday work - Business casuals, usually pants and blouses/shirts/ sweaters/ formal shoes and sometimes churidar kurta
Client visits - Western business formals, almost always trouser suits
Formal work socials - Indian formals, either saris or churidar kurtas
Informal work socials - trousers or skirts and tops
Meeting friends - jeans, capris, skirts, sweatsuit pants or shorts and tees
Formal socials - saris
Informal socials - anything goes, mix-and-matches

So, my friends rarely see me formally dressed. Yesterday my friends (or, since I am still pissed off with them, my so-called friends) saw me the way I go to work and they found it pretty surprising. According to them I was "dressed up". But I wasnt. I was wearing everyday work clothes. What can I do if I have a wardrobe, not to mention shoes to suit every occassion?

Yet another rant on how much I dislike Indian men

We lost yesterday's match, but this is not what this post is about. Its about people who pile on and about Indian men who have no manners. Yes, we are speaking of my so-called friend, Mad. Yesterday I met Mad at the Merchant's cup venue. Of all the idiots who pretend to be friends, this one takes the cake. I was saying something, when this babe walks past him and says, "The men's rooms are over there." Mad leaves me in mid-sentence to follow the babe to see the men's rooms. Sure the babe was his colleague and a babe, but surely he could have left saying, "excuse me!" or something similar? Is it just me or does it bother other people too when people display a marked lack of commonplace manners? What got my goat was that this kid shamelessly mooches on me and then does not even have common decency when hot babes are around. I got pissed off and ignored him for the remainder of the event and will do so in the near future. Then, after I reached home, I get a call from Mad asking for dinner. I nearly blew my top. Of all the nerve! I bellowed rather nastily, "I've had dinner and am in no mood to cook for you, so good night! I'm sure you can mooch dinner off your hot colleagues. Try it, it isnt tough for you." I used to think the kid is fun to hang around with but no, he's just another Indian man who thinks he can live off women just because he is a software engineer. I hate those types, so mad is going to be struck off my friends list. Its frightening, but I haven't been able to make friends (barring 2) after college. I've not met anyone as nice since. Maybe I over-reacted with Mad, but I really get pissed off with bad manners.

Technique is everything

I'm participating in the Merchant's Cup Darts Championship starting from today. I participated last year too and we went uptil the semis. I had never played darts before as it had never particularly appealed to me and after last year's Merchant's cup I will be playing darts again today. This year it will hopefully be better as some of my friends, more notably Mad and gang are also participating. The idiot has already started competing and nearly had an orgasm at the thought that we *could* play against each other and he *could* win. Testosterone anyone?

My experiments with food

My new flatmate is bengali. I have nothing against bengalis, save for the fact that they like their food deep-fried and starchy. My flatmate too will deep-fry any and everything and combine potatoes and rice with everything. I got sick of the overdose of bengali food (though I am a bengali food fan) and looked around for recipes from epicurious, my favourite foodie site. They have recipes for interesting meals for singles or as they call it, "Dinner for one" and I got a tantalising recipe for grilled swordfish with salsa and haricot verts with lemon brown butter. I substituted swordfish with good ole' rohu and haricot verts with normal french beans. The fish was marinated for about 20 minutes in a mixture of honey, lime juice and coriander powder and grilled to a crisp. Combined with the salsa it tastes lovely. The beans in lemon brown butter were perfect with it. What I liked most about the singles recipes were that the ingredients are easily available and it does not take more than an hour to cook anything. That's my style of cooking, fast, simple yet tasty and healthy. Dinner was such a refreshing change yesterday. I used only 1 tablespoon of fat as opposed to my flatmate's drenched-with-oil treats and even then the food was mouth-watering. I'm going to try out more of those recipes. They work out pretty well.

Springtime in Calcutta

How do you know its spring in Calcutta? You hear the koel (cuckoo) warbling for all it is worth. I just heard a koel singing and for some reason it made me smile. Whenever I hear a koel, I am reminded of KGP. In KGP where there are many trees and calm, silence and peace, in the springtime and especially if you had a garden with papaya and/or mango trees, there was a good chance of waking up to a koel's trill. I can't describe those spring mornings well enough. The morning is cool and when you open the door, the pink and gold of the first sunrays rush inside your room and touch everything and make them seem richer and brighter. You walk out into the lawn and your slippers and feet get wet with the dewdrops still glistening everywhere. You walk to the trees where the koel is still singing and you look up and you see her playing hide-n-seek in the leaves. One moment you see the papaya-thief and one moment you don't. Then suddenly, you hear a quick rustling of leaves and the koel flits into another tree and starts trilling as if mocking you to find her again. Then when you are biking down to the swimming pool, trying to avoid crushing all the laggardly snails still on the road, you hear the koel again and you wonder, is it the same one that played hide-n-seek with you? When you're resting at the shady end of the pool, watching the light gold sunlight playing on the surface of the pool you hear the koel again and it makes you smile because you know summer has started. Summer with its vacations. Summer with mangoes. Summer with early morning swimming. Summer with the koel singing for all she is worth and you smile an dive in once again and swim underwater and think how unbelievably beautiful the world seems with a thick film of water inbetween.

Gag!

I just checked out the lame Indian blogs I used to read. Gag! Blech! I just read about 4 accounts of the different bloggers' meets. Now, one should be nice and civil, true, but need people be lame and toadies? I can understand liking people one meets but gushing and being fake is so not my scene. But wait, I'm out of all that shit, so why even bother?

Overrated Historical Monuments

In an email exchange with the cuz, he told me about the 4 towers in Bangalore and Kempe Gowda and that the towers were singularly unimpressive. I was reminded about some historical monuments that I feel are hugely overrated and which fail to evince any interest in me. Feel free to put down your lists on the commentsboard. It should be interesting. This list will be a growing list, with other inputs as well as my inputs as I see more and more of the world.

1. Mangeshkar Temple in Cortolim, Goa - There was nothing unique about it. I could not find anything great about the architecture and it was just another temple.
2. Kashi-Vishwanath temple in Varanasi - Yeah, we all know that something or the other happened to Shiva there and how sacred and holy it is. In my opinion, it is just another temple, and a very dirty one to boot. I can't understand why hindus do not keep their places of worship clean and how anyone can possibly pray amidst so much filth? I felt claustrophobic and the many brushes against ze boobies by the so-called holy men wearing saffron just made me feel disillusioned with religion in general. And whatever people may say, but I feel hinduism is majorly hypocritical. You have these aunty types going and praying fervently at kashi-vishwanath (yeah, they actually pray to a giant penis) and then sneer if they see a woman wearing trousers.
3. The Dayalbagh temple in Agra - What is so great about a stupid cult and some stupid temple they want to build to rival the Taj? On second thoughts, is it just me or are temples not my cup of tea?
4. Dakshineshwar - Calcutta is a treasure trove of interesting historical monuments, but Dakshineshwar is not one of those. Sure, I have respect for the Ramakrishna mission, but somehow, I am not very enthusiastic about any cults in the making. Talking of Ramakrishna Mission, the math at Belur, I like very much. It is surprisingly peaceful and you sense a holy feeling around. Thats the second place after Sankatmochan in Varanasi, where I could feel atleast a spark of spirituality in me. Normally I don't feel anything in places of worship.
5. Hanging gardens of Babylon - This one comes via the mater. She felt sweeping disappointment when she saw them and she felt cheated to see miles of nothingness.
6. Towers built by Kempe Gowda at the 4 corners of Bangalore - This comes via the cuz. Bigtime disappointment.
7. Nekchand's garbage garden in Chandigarh - This also came via the cuz and I agree with him. The mater seconds it vociferously. I'm all for recycling but there's this fine line between art and just garbage and I hope people realise that.

The weekend

I didn't go to the picnic afterall. I just was not motivated enough and I wasn't feeling too well. So instead on Saturday night Madder, Mad and I watched Ice age, ate pizza and then Mad left, but Madder slept over and we had a marathon bitching session about high maintenance women and about Mad's love life. Madder is not to be trusted with secrets. She spilt all the beans about Mad's women and it was very juvenile. I had done all that at age 18 or 19, but it amused me to think Mad was so popular with marwari babes. I wanted to bite me tongue from bitching about Mad, but considering the fact that Madder is such a blabbermouth, thought I'd better keep quiet. Ain't I sensible?

I slept till late on Sunday, lazed about and had a late lunch that Ruhi cooked. Popped over to the salon, only to be told in the middle of a shampoo that daddy dearest was at home! Hurried back home, chatted with Dad and had tea with him, after which he left and then sauntered over to the Jazz fest. Heard Emtrio only, wanted to stay on but was also pooped out from doing nothing. Believe me doing nothing can be very tiring sometimes. Watched confessions of a dangerous mind on TV, and read the Sunday specials and dozed off. Woke up at 12:00 pm yesterday. Had brunch and cleaned the home and hearth. Had a long, hot bath, went shopping. Picked up some baking dishes, bright yellow salad bowls and a kitchen rack. Returned home, cleaned the kitchen, went for a walk and then went to eat parathas at Coffee Pai. Had a yummy gobhi (cauliflower) and peas paratha and an iced chocolate. returned home, watched candid camera and slept like a baby until morning.

Bubbling cauldrons and whistling kettles

Yesterday the mad twosome dropped in for dinner. Yesterday was also a bad day for me. I fell down the stairs at work, thankfully I did not get hurt too badly because I managed to grab on to the railing after falling down 5 steps. After that, my demo went very badly. We had been given the wrong inputs and the working was all wrong. I felt like crying and now we have to proceed from scratch once again. This time I am taking no chances and am getting the specs myself. Anyhow, I was upset in the evening and feeling very bugged with life, I decided to cook, since cooking always destresses me. Mad and madder also rang up and begged for dinner. The menu was Indian (I cooked it) and a mad mix - steamed rice, stuffed capsicum, chicken qorma, cabbage and shrimp stir fry, cauliflower stir fry and paneer curry. The dessert was candies and rum chocolates. Madder is a vegetarian, so I have to always ensure there's veggie stuff for motor-mouth. I think the food turned out pretty well and it was heartening to see both of them enjoying dinner. The next dinner I shall cook for anyone will be thai.

Lamb to the slaughter

Tomorrow I have to go for the official picnic and I just don't feel like it. The prime reason being the sheer brain-deadness of it and the secondary reason being my monthly cycle being as regular as spam - wholly unavoidable, unwelcome, irritating and making me feel grumpy and irritable. Yeah, I'm bleeding like a slaughtered pig and I so hate it and the drive to the venue takes five hours. I am sad already.

Numbers are plumbers

I have a radical new theory. I call it 'might is right' or 'numbers are plumbers'. I was thinking how Aishwarya Rai was voted the most beautiful woman on earth by either People or Hello magazine. My solution is so simple I wonder how no one thought of it ever. Most people forget that there are very, many Indians now. So, even on an online voting system, even if most Indians (or people constituting the Indian diaspora) vote for Ms. Rai, she would win by an easy margin. Its not as if people the world over know of her. I've asked my friends the world over and no one had heard of her, leave alone know how she looked like.

I am not impressed by voting systems because I know that every ballot can be skewed one way or the other. In my college days, I used to regularly play the ballot-box and the candidate I would support and er... was my protegee always won. It was always a simple application of the laws of statistics and some basic pop-psychology. So, all Ms. Rai fans, do not gloat on the popularity of your idol, its just that you are so many in numbers because of a freak fecundity gene in your country.

Kool and the gang

I have added a list of characters that I shall often refer to, on this blog under 'The Baker's Basket' so that I do not have to render explanations whenever I talk of them. The list shall be updated regularly though the people mentioned on it right now will always be on. They are my dearest friends and its been 7 years of knowing each other. We met while doing our postgraduation and since then have been thick as thieves. I met Baha through Ponappa, but ironically we are better friends now. The salient point of our friendship has been an open mind. All of us (barring Jackie/Jacqui who is canadian and conventional balti) are leading lives unlike most young Indians who conform and have not buckled under parental pressure (I, of course had significantly less parental pressure to deal with in the first place) and will not buckle down ever. Baha is a young gay man who is pursuing a PhD in Georgeland. Ponappa is a confused bi and so is Jackie/ Jacqui (Jackie/ Jacqui is not confused). Ponappa is also pursuing a PhD in physics. Mata is a married woman but her marriage has been inter-religious which in India is a huge thing and is a very talented architect and also the most balanced and sensible of all of us friends. Poo is a trained psychologist and specialises in group dynamics but ironically is never able to identify her psyche. I and Baha do that about her and have great fun in the process. Balti is like me, a masters in mathematics and is working for a major investment firm as an actuary. It actually suits her well. She also preaches to all of us the wonders of matrimony, having been safely married off four years ago. Baker is a businessman and not friends with the rest, he hasn't met them. He is a voracious reader and I have taken it on myself to cultivate him into a non-philistine. I have made great strides with him and I shamelessly mooch off his books. We often have pseudo literary discussions and it is my life's mission to always take the opposite stand. He is also a confirmed singleton like me, ponappa and baha. Another weird and common thing about my friends apart from the baker and mata is that they all have only one surviving parent. I know its a weird generalization but it actually is true.

So ladies and gentlemen, have fun peeking into my crazy life.

Barren by choice

I've made up my mind. I'm not going to be a progenitor. Ever. I have many reasons for doing so. Firstly, I am selfish and I want to live my own way. That is not a good way to bring up the kiddies, or so "they" say. Secondly, we (Indians) have already crossed the billion mark. Nobody realises that this mindless birthing has to stop. We are burdening earth and sooner or later human luck is bound to run out. So, I choose to stop laying additional burden on earth by not birthing. Thirdly, I don't want to further my genes. I don't think they are so spectacular and I'm petrified of being another link in the guilt-chain. I don't want to be the kind of mother I know I shall make. Fourthly, I'm not really a kid-person. I can't ooh and aah over a cutesy kid or pinch cheeks or even cuddle an arbitrary sweet child just out of affection. I love and shall love my nephews and niece and future spawns in the family to bits, but I'm not very sure I want to handle the responsibility. A lot of my friends have told me it would change and I'd hear the tick-tocking of my hibernating-till-date biological clock, but its not happened so far. Even my nephew's cute antics don't make me yearn for a bun-in-the-oven. I do not think its a drastic decision to make, its been a fairly practical one actually, but the random males who've floated in and out of my very random lou-life think otherwise. I can't resist smirking when I say that its a decision I actually made at age 23 and so far nothings made me change my mind, not even cute baby dresses.

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread

True. Look what I have got myself into and now that the leather-lovin' guy is leaving, I have to take over. As I said, why me? Why did I have to be so enthusiastic? Sometimes, I am my hugest enemy.

Yesterday was mom's birthday and I forgot it. Thankfully, I remembered just in the nick of time in the evening and called her up. Now a spiffier present has to be procured to ensure no EF*. Its nice to have la familie back. I am at my moodiest best these days and I can't wait to grow older and fall into the stereotype of an old, grouchy spinster. maybe I'll even get myself some yapping pekes, just for effect. My newest profession is not lifelessness but amusing the ponappa and Jackie/ jacquie. I used to be such a happening person, and now I just do not feel like being on the go.

My IQ used to be 143, but the last time I took a new test it was only 139. Is it possible that IQ levels drop? How is that possible? I don't feel dimmer, but I have been exposed to monumental stupidity the past few years, it must have rubbed off. No!

*EF - Emotional Fuckwittage

Walk until you drop

It's official! Next to next Sunday I shall be going on a walking tour to see churches and cemeteries in Calcutta. I was pleasantly surprised to see the prompt response that my query got and since the tours would stop from February until September, I thought I must see as much as I can until then. It should be fun and i'll get to know a lot about the Anglo-Indian part of Calcutta. Very nice. The organisers also said that they could chalk up walking tours for me and I could do them when they were away. What an added bonus! Like every Indian, I too like langiappes, so I'm very happy right now and that takes care of two weekends.

Deutsche Klassen - Hier komme ich!

Ich will deutsche Klassen wieder anschließen. Ich kann an noch etwas nicht denken, auf deutsch zu schreiben. Tchuss!

Walking around

Yesterday I read about walking tours in Calcutta organised by the WB Tourism department in some newspaper. Right now, they offer 3 walking tours - a heritage walk, a churches and cemeteries of Calcutta and a general touristy walk called 'Impressions of Kolkata'. I am very interested in the heritage walk and the churches and cemeteries one. Calcutta is a strange city. On one hand I really dislike the lack of entrepreneurship in people and their laziness, on the other hand, I love the culture and the laidback attitude. A little bit of research on the internet revealed this. I think I shall be checking out all of the walking tours, one by one. They are all really interesting.

Baker, baker, bake me some bread!

To this day I haven't met a baker I didn't like. One day actually night, I saw a Discovery crime and punishment programme on a serial murderer in Alaska who was a law-abiding baker and I didn't like him, but I normally like most bakers who are not serial murderers, even if they have shattered my heart into a million pieces and that kind of thing. The etymology of this blog can be credited to the fact that one of my favourite person in this world is a baker (Actually, I very much doubt that he's ever baked anything in his entire life apart from ideas that make a lot of money for him, but I still call him a baker. We used to be seeing each other but soon the romance died out but the friendship did not and I'm very fond of him in a friend way and vice versa) and the fact that I am not triskaidekaphobic. I was unhappy with this name until a week ago, but now I like it even better than the older one. I also like my silly nickname and feel it describes me pretty aptly - silly, bad punner, plump but also rather nice.

This-and-that

I go through sustained periods of not feeling like replying to emails. I'm going through that period right now. I have loads of emails to answer and as they pile up in my various inboxes, my inertia only increases. I'm also dreading next weekend. We have the workplace picnic and I just do not want to go. I don't feel like socialising and I want to either visit my parents or go for the jazz festival but I most certainly do not want to waste the weekend with people from work. I also have a lot of studying to do. Lets see if I can think of a decent enough excuse to wriggle out of this one. On one hand, I want to get to know my team so that I feel comfortable enough with them, on the other hand being with my other co-workers is not exactly a fun thing to do. Hmmm...

I used to have a lot of irritants about other blogs and bloggers, now I just do not care. Am I growing apathetic or what? This blog will not be rich in linky-love, bad because that was half the fun of blogging and good because I will be not wasting so much of my time. Lets see how long my resolutions remain?

Letting go

I wonder what it is about a blog that makes a person want to blab? I've blabbed in the past on my ex-blog and suffered for it. I had to close my ex-blog and move here. After I moved here, I realised that I can really let go very, very easily and that scares me. Now, I just have to figure out how to let go of all me flab!

Mommy Dearest

The progenitors are back. I can see a pattern developing. As they grow older the pater is growing more childlike and grumpy and the mater is growing more carefree and naughtier. I mean it is uncomfortable to hear stories (albeit funny) about your parents (mis?)adventures with er... *nudge-nudge* creating progeny. Mom insists on relating some embarrassing story and I don't know if it is polite to laugh uproariously or just smile and look the other way. Does she do it to make me uncomfortable? Also the thought of your old and greying parents indulging in hanky-panky is somewhat disbelievable. I mean I know they must have indulged in a lot of it to produce three strapping adults, but the thought is still a bit discomfiting.

I got a lot of loot as I always do when the parents return from their foreign jaunts. Most Indians have this thing of shopping until they drop when they travel abroad. My parents do it too. My mother even takes advantage about the fact that she is on a wheelchair to squeeze excess baggage in, which is very embarrassing if one has to travel with her. My father has a totally different excuse for it - he normally carries practically half his library when he travels and in his innocent absent-minded professor way tells the officials at the airport that he needs his books and is a professor and nine times out of ten is let off the hook. The one occassion on which he is made to pay-up for excess baggage, he exclaims in an outraged manner, "Nobody respects science anymore!" The glee on my (normally law-abiding) parents' faces when they don't have to pay for excess baggage is so amusing, it seems as if they've successfully pulled off the great train robbery and it also leads me to believe that most people actually like breaking tiny laws just for the pleasure of cheating the system.

Sour Grapes

This is what happens when an university nobody is made a Union Human Resources Development Minister...

Joshi questions quality of IITs

According to the honourable minister, sprawling campuses and high fees do not constitute quality education. Just for the record, Banaras Hindu university and Allahabad university (where the minister taught and incidentally remained on the rolls even after switching over to active politics) have huger campuses than any of the IITs. Secondly, most private engineering colleges are far more expensive than the IITs which actually provide heavily subsidised tuition. I have studied at an university and then at an IIT. My university education I did not enjoy. The professors were often absent and when they were not, were screwed up, embroiled in politics and incompetent. When I went for my post-graduation, I was amazed. I had laboratories that actually functioned, a well-stocked library, decent hostel accomodation and the most amazing professors I have ever come across. I do not know what other students think, but in my opinion, the professors at the IITs are a very motivated lot and they are the ones who impart quality education. I have yet to meet a totally dumb IITian maybe because of the impartial selection process or whatever. I have not known one who was totally worthless and I have met many in my lifetime. I shudder to think what would happen to the IITs and the IIMs if the BJP and the likes of Joshi had their way. In my opinion, there are very few institutions in India that impart quality education and if you break those down, there will be not much that India would have to offer to science and technology. I'm not saying that quality research does not happen elsewhere, it does, but saying that the IITs or the IIMs have not contributed much to India's progress is a pretty idiotic statement for a union minister to make.

Philistines

Ponnappa says that I used to do the rudest things in college. Somehow I can't think of many. She says I called Poo a philistine on many occassions on her face and that was very rude. Well! I admit to doing that but the truth is that Poo is a philistine. What else would you call someone who stared at a Degas (the real thing and not a print) and then commented, "Well! What's so great about this?" When I would be raving about something I found beautiful, the Poo would look at it, try and figure out the utilitarian aspect and then say something like, "yeah, but just try and use it as a heavy-duty rug, it would disintegrate in a day." What else is she, if not a philistine?

Now, I find that plain talking is under-rated. I can only plain talk and I'm socially inept. I hardly have any social graces and when it comes to Art, I get very touchy. So, I will always call a philistine a philistine, nevermind if it is one of my best friend or even my sister (the world's second hugest philistine after Poo). Talking of Art, i'm getting tickets for the jazz festival here in late January-early February. Yes! Yes! Yes!

My Left Hand

Yesterday night I did something stupid yet again. I often do stupid things, but on occassions my stupidity astounds me and leaves me speechless. Yesterday night was one of those occassions. At night all the pi dogs in my locality start barking for all they are worth. They start in unison at around 1:00 am and do not stop for a good half hour after that. That is enough to wake me up and I can't sleep too soon after that. For the past 1 week, I throw out some chappattis and they quiten up for a while atleast. Yesterday, bugged and irritated, I opened my window and flung out some chappattis with a vengeance. A pitcher I shall never make. One chappatti landed at the feet of the Calcutta policeman who-you-know-serves-a-purpose and two landed on the Calcutta police's jeep's bonnet. I spent the rest of the night fearing imminent arrest.

Secret Ambition #1

I remember the days when no one wanted to give me a credit card. All credit card companies were suspicious of me and since I had no previous credit rating, I and the credit card companies were caught in a catch 22 situation. Then my bank gave all its corporate users a free credit card. Then the credit card sluice gates opened. Since then, I have acquired 3 credit cards (I use only 2) and I get calls almost everyday to get a new one. I wonder where they've heard of me. My past year of blogging has brought me maybe few microns of fame and some inches of notoriety, true, but I don't believe that I'm *THAT* famous yet. So how do credit card companies get my phone number and address? Are all these credit card companies a part of a cabal or something? I have a secret personal ambition that I have to revealed to no one, but since I reveal a lot here and since I have since acquired yet another secret ambition (that I shall tell no one about) I feel it is time to let the cat out of the bag. So, my new secret ambition is to acquire the mostest of free credit cards in a year to see how far one can go. I don't plan to use them, I still use only 2 and have no plans to use any more, but I still want to know how far one can go. A pity credit card companies have no inkling of my secret ambition!

Those Foolish Things

Confused teen, confused teen, spineless mamma's boy, control freak1, confirmed bachelor, control freak2.

Those are the people I have had relationships with. Nos. 1, 2 and 5 are my best friends even now. Am I weird or what?

Riding High

On my flight to Bangalore I sat next to a young man who made me extremely conscious of the fact that I ate the dinner served on the flight (which was pretty horrible but I had skipped lunch and was hungry) and he merely asked for salad and dessert and picked on the salad. I normally notice weird things and I noticed the abstemious young man's lack of appetite, since most young men I know will eat just about anything. Once I reached Bangalore all the resolutions I made on the plane of picking at food vanished and I hogged, especially at the cuz's.

The day I was supposed to return, I reached the airport only to discover that my flight was delayed. So, I started walking around and wonder of wonders who do I meet but picky-eater? It turned out that he too was returning by the same flight. We got talking and exchanged casual information about each other and then he told me he was a jockey. Not a disc or a radio one but a real jockey, the horses kinds. I was intrigued and fascinated. He had been one for the past 7 years and was riding since he was 8. I should have known by his physique, most jockeys are slightly bow-legged and have a gait that is somewhat umm... squat-legged.

Since all the people I meet at work are IT workers or lawyers, a jockey seemed exotic and exciting. It turned out that my new acquaintance is pretty famous in the racing circuits and then I knew why his face seemed so familiar. I've seen his face often on the sports pages of newspapers. He was warm, interesting to talk with and I got to know a lot about something that I knew nothing about. He was patient with my questions and then I realised that it must have been so bugging to have someone constantly questioning you, but I couldnt help it. I could have been bored to death by the 8 hour long wait at Bangalore airport, but thanks to PE (picky eater) I was spared the agony of going totally catatonic. I feel humbled by people who's professions deal with danger and speed and their life seems so alive. I checked the newspapers and sure enough PE's win was reported. So, I know another famous person now. Heehaha...

Bang, Bang, Bang galore...

Yes, that was silly and I like being silly. Was in Bangalore the past 2 days and I was happy. Much happier than I have been in the past 3 months. It was a relief getting away from the city and even though it was for work (and I did a lot of it) it was so nice being somewhere all alone and at peace.

I loved Bangalore of what I saw. Sadly, I could not see too much, but then, thats another reason to go visit again. The city seems young, vibrant and more prosperous than any other Indian city. Though, I think barring the South Indian and the fast food, you get better food in Calcutta, though the ambience in Bangalore's various restaurants is better. I also really liked the people, they seem cosmopolitan and pretty relaxed though professional.

The bestest part of the city was that I got to meet a long-lost cousin and his family. I saw the kids after ages and my nephew was taller than me and the niece was a moppet. Its weird how well I got along with the cousins, I normally take a lot of time to get totally comfortable with people but this time it just happened in an instant. As I am growing older, I feel like getting to know more about my family and to get to know them not just as family or relatives but as individuals. With some of my cousins, there is no danger of getting involved in murky family politics and that is such a relief.

It was somewhat frustating working in Bangalore because I thought I faced some resistance. I wonder why people are resistant to change. My applications actually cut down effort by more than 50% but still it was an uphill task getting about it. I work with people who have little or no IT exposure and sometimes I feel that they have a mental block against anything that seems new and thats a pity. Still, since things went successfully, I am relieved. I hope to see more of Bangalore, I really liked the city.

This-and-that

Someday when I am in a crappy mood will reveal all, but for now, I'm back to full-time blogging and you should see the look on my face. I still feel heart-sick, but the prospect of the trip is somewhat uplifting. It will take my mind off all the unpleasantness and I will get to see a place I've never been to before. Thankfully, work is continuing well and is going pretty well. I feel like such a renegade, but one must protect one's self, n'cest pas? Here I am folks, in my newest avataar, doughier and hopefully wiser.

Mmmm.... I'm alive again

Another day in oblivion. I've learnt my lesson well. From now on the following rules will be followed over here:
1. Thou shalt remain unknown.
2. Thou shalt not open thy big mouth and put thyself in trouble.
3. Thou shalt remain silent about thy new space and not endanger thy life again.
4. Thou shalt never try to submit thy blog to any evil-hand-of-God search engine.

Here we go getting our hands all floury again!

So here we are. All ready for a new batch!