Fresh from a stinking movie hall that just finished screening a Telugu movie with two gorgeous heroines, my stomach which took revenge in the morning by digesting a pain killer in slow motion asked for a big thali. I walked into a nearby restaurant, and the moment I saw "Mini Punjabi Thali", my stomach didn't think twice.
I ordered for my thali and smugly waited to receive the plate. Since it was self-service, I saw my plate in the assembly line. A black guy with a red thread on his hand was holding a white plate and putting orange biryani with brown bare hands. Thankfully, someone took that plate. The next in line was mine. I saw a south Indian meal plate made from galvanized steel being filled with Punjabi food. I received the plate with all the contents duly covered by a tandoori roti and a rolled papad.
I took my plate to a table opposite to a gal with a book, under the pretext of sitting near the fan. She seemed ok in this crowd of martians and jupiter-ians.....had to invent this word as neither Roland Emmerich nor Steven Speilberg and not even James Cameron had made movies with people from Jupiter.
Ok. Back to my plate. I uncovered my plate and said Hi to my tomato soup in a katori. The bread crumbs were like dead bodies that drowned in tomato soup few hours back. Then, I saw the curry and the dal. Both were rightly in their respective katoris. My roti seemed hotter than the gal opposite me and my stomach couldn't wait to lay its juices on it.
And then, what I noticed was shocking. A punjabi would have died on the spot with multiple organ failure. Of course, the brain is exempted! I noticed the lassi.
LASSI IN A KATORI ?????????? Punjabis take no less than 2-3 'pints' of lassi with a meal and here I was, staring at a katori-full of it.
God....if I can make my death-wish in advance now, please get me out of this lassi and gals forsaken land.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Life's small unsolved mysteries
How many times did you wake up to a fact, but don't remember the story behind it?
Today was one such day. Night rather. I woke up because my little finger on my right hand was hurting like hell had stepped on it.....it was 4.30 am. The last time I woke up at 4.30 am was about 4 years back in college to mug for some horrible exam set by some obnoxious professor.....The thinking part of my brain was still asleep, while the 'pain-feeler' part seemed to be widely awake and vigorously active. It took me a minute to recover from my disorientation and discover which side my pillow is and therefore by common sense, where my legs would be.
I nudged my thinking cells awake and tried to travel past in time by an hour or two. I could vaguely remember I had a dream-like experience where my little finger started to pain. But how did it start?? I got up, brushed, ate a piece of laddoo, took a pain killer and sat on my bed in deep contemplation of what could be the cause. Did I crush my finger under my head?? No...my head isn't so heavy, though I always joke my brain significantly contributes to my weight. I didn't find anything around me that could possibly accommodate my finger beneath it.
My digestive system that normally takes about 43 minutes to digest a full meal, seemed to be gleefully digesting that painkiller in slow motion. It's revenge for all that I send down throughout the day and night. I needed to distract my mind. So I watched an episode of 'How I Met Your Mother'. Robin Scherbatsky was extremely distracting! Attraction does cause distraction! Wow..thats an oxy-moron-ic sentence!
Or could it be my flat mate on a sleep walk who over stepped the mess around me to accidentally land on my finger? Looks likely, but I won't know until later in the day.
But in most probability, it will remain a mystery that will be forgotten once the pain disappears....until then, my grey cells will suffer from lack of insomnia.
Today was one such day. Night rather. I woke up because my little finger on my right hand was hurting like hell had stepped on it.....it was 4.30 am. The last time I woke up at 4.30 am was about 4 years back in college to mug for some horrible exam set by some obnoxious professor.....The thinking part of my brain was still asleep, while the 'pain-feeler' part seemed to be widely awake and vigorously active. It took me a minute to recover from my disorientation and discover which side my pillow is and therefore by common sense, where my legs would be.
I nudged my thinking cells awake and tried to travel past in time by an hour or two. I could vaguely remember I had a dream-like experience where my little finger started to pain. But how did it start?? I got up, brushed, ate a piece of laddoo, took a pain killer and sat on my bed in deep contemplation of what could be the cause. Did I crush my finger under my head?? No...my head isn't so heavy, though I always joke my brain significantly contributes to my weight. I didn't find anything around me that could possibly accommodate my finger beneath it.
My digestive system that normally takes about 43 minutes to digest a full meal, seemed to be gleefully digesting that painkiller in slow motion. It's revenge for all that I send down throughout the day and night. I needed to distract my mind. So I watched an episode of 'How I Met Your Mother'. Robin Scherbatsky was extremely distracting! Attraction does cause distraction! Wow..thats an oxy-moron-ic sentence!
Or could it be my flat mate on a sleep walk who over stepped the mess around me to accidentally land on my finger? Looks likely, but I won't know until later in the day.
But in most probability, it will remain a mystery that will be forgotten once the pain disappears....until then, my grey cells will suffer from lack of insomnia.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I remember...
I remember, the day I cried for my milk bottle my mom supposedly gave away to a calf.....
I remember, it was my aunt who borrowed it to visit her childhood innocence...
I remember, my first caning I got in my school, the pain is yet to subside...
I remember, my every tantrum invited threats of me being sent to boarding school..
I remember, my first day at boarding school, ooty....I knw it had nothing to do with the tantrums....its a video in my head...blowing my new bright yellow trumpet my dad bought with his almost last few rupees, so that they can slip away before I overcome the joy of my new toy....
I remember, I was 7, the first night I slept without mom beside me. It was painful. I didn't have a pillow :)
I remember, my first birthday in boarding school. Chocolates for all, my parents bought. Instant fame.
I remember, the red sweater, the blue,the maroon, the orange and my least favourite, brown.....
I remember, the blue shoes, the white and my least favourite, brown.....
I remember, new Bril ink bottles, Camel box, and that idiot Sandeep who brought a wooden ruler every term...Weapon of class destruction for every school teacher.....
I remember, my first crush. 4th std C section. For the first time 'A' seemed so far from 'C'....
I remember, every nth maths tuition that sapped the fun out of my vacations....my head still aches...
I remember, one movie cassette per day all through vacations....f**k the math...
I remember, my first bicycle injury..
I remember, the tears of growing up alone, the joys of toys all to myself.....a basket full to bury my boredom...
I remember, my first board exam. Tension. Acidity. Pain. Lucky, it was English.
I remember, one Digene before every board exam...
I remember, THE fight between engineering and finance...
Money always wins.....
I remember, the athletic medals I won, the goal I made in 5 seconds, the misdirected kick that cost my team the cup....
I remember, 90 days of accountancy problems at 4 am....to pep my score to qualify for adventure sports at college...
I remember, the first bungee jump at college....9.8 m/s sq acceleration....but allergic to gravity in spirit....
I remember, the first buck my horse gave, becoz I rhythmically smashed my ass on its back...perfectly in reverse sync...
I remember, the first wheelie I did on the bike. Suzuki Fiero 2, the first ramp jump, one great fall, one great recovery....
I remember, MBA, two years passed in 2 blips....
I remember, what it is to come so close to love....and what it is to move so far...
I remember, Delhi...no season, always 'hot' ;)
I remember, mugging newspapers...books, articles
I remember, the govt got unlucky, I didnt clear the civil services....
I remember, the first salary. Swatch, Kingfisher (air hostess, not the bottle), Honda and Bose followed.
I remember, friends who turned siblings...and classmates who turned friends...
I remember...much more, scenes, sounds, emotions, that words cannot completely craft....
But I remember......
I remember, it was my aunt who borrowed it to visit her childhood innocence...
I remember, my first caning I got in my school, the pain is yet to subside...
I remember, my every tantrum invited threats of me being sent to boarding school..
I remember, my first day at boarding school, ooty....I knw it had nothing to do with the tantrums....its a video in my head...blowing my new bright yellow trumpet my dad bought with his almost last few rupees, so that they can slip away before I overcome the joy of my new toy....
I remember, I was 7, the first night I slept without mom beside me. It was painful. I didn't have a pillow :)
I remember, my first birthday in boarding school. Chocolates for all, my parents bought. Instant fame.
I remember, the red sweater, the blue,the maroon, the orange and my least favourite, brown.....
I remember, the blue shoes, the white and my least favourite, brown.....
I remember, new Bril ink bottles, Camel box, and that idiot Sandeep who brought a wooden ruler every term...Weapon of class destruction for every school teacher.....
I remember, my first crush. 4th std C section. For the first time 'A' seemed so far from 'C'....
I remember, every nth maths tuition that sapped the fun out of my vacations....my head still aches...
I remember, one movie cassette per day all through vacations....f**k the math...
I remember, my first bicycle injury..
I remember, the tears of growing up alone, the joys of toys all to myself.....a basket full to bury my boredom...
I remember, my first board exam. Tension. Acidity. Pain. Lucky, it was English.
I remember, one Digene before every board exam...
I remember, THE fight between engineering and finance...
Money always wins.....
I remember, the athletic medals I won, the goal I made in 5 seconds, the misdirected kick that cost my team the cup....
I remember, 90 days of accountancy problems at 4 am....to pep my score to qualify for adventure sports at college...
I remember, the first bungee jump at college....9.8 m/s sq acceleration....but allergic to gravity in spirit....
I remember, the first buck my horse gave, becoz I rhythmically smashed my ass on its back...perfectly in reverse sync...
I remember, the first wheelie I did on the bike. Suzuki Fiero 2, the first ramp jump, one great fall, one great recovery....
I remember, MBA, two years passed in 2 blips....
I remember, what it is to come so close to love....and what it is to move so far...
I remember, Delhi...no season, always 'hot' ;)
I remember, mugging newspapers...books, articles
I remember, the govt got unlucky, I didnt clear the civil services....
I remember, the first salary. Swatch, Kingfisher (air hostess, not the bottle), Honda and Bose followed.
I remember, friends who turned siblings...and classmates who turned friends...
I remember...much more, scenes, sounds, emotions, that words cannot completely craft....
But I remember......
The funny thing about arranged marriages
If you ask my preferences about the two schools of marriage, my up-bringing may dominate my western outlook and try to pull me towards an arranged marriage. But hey....i am the generation next....youngistan meri jaan....i at least don't have a negative perception towards a 'love' marriage. It does work.... But i often wonder if marriage kills the 'love'!!....the excitement of discovery of a gal in an arranged marriage seems interesting...at least contempt is bred late.....u r free to interpret 'discovery', but it hardly leaves space for excitement if you take the 'wrong' side!
My parents were just short of giving me a Gantt chart on the project called marriage. My mom's ultimatum was that either I find a gal, or they will, within 2 years. Unfortunately I am stuck in a city where friday dressing means white silk saree with gold border and a jasmine garden on the head. oh..how I do empathize with Kirsh Malhotra of '2 States'. So a large pie-of-my-chart is commanded by my parents. So how does it feel like?
Arranged marriage is like a menu card.
0. Caste-Subcaste 1, 1.1, 1.2...., Subcaste 2, 2.1.2.2.....
1. Dowry-Lakhs or crores. Anything less, its a road-side eatery
2. Things that come free with dowry-car, gold etc etc etc.....
its a one time opportunity for the guy's family. Its the culmination of the family's efforts to get a degree and a green card tagged to the guy. Probably India is the only place where we find a third source of capital- equity, debt and dowry. Of course the last one doesn't fortunately have a secondary market!!
3. Assets-no pun intended ;) for god's sake...remember, the parents are reading the menu...
4. Color of skin- Dark(mentioned as wheatish), Fair, Very Fair
5. Education: let me tell you the choice here for me happens to be bad. 99.8679% are B.Tech if you are seeing Andhra gals.
well, there are more items on the menu card which are relegated to oblivion if the ones above are substantially large.
Does it end here? not yet....you have permutations and combinations of stars and planets that must match. I swear I will murder the next guy who discovers another planet in our solar system. We have enough to confuse us.
The funny part of an arranged marriage is the afford-ability or freedom to choose from the menu. So surely its an advantage for the guys!! You get most of the things you want!!!
Fortunately I have parents who care nothing for the top 3 items (oh..in this case zero before one cannot be ignored).....but i must confess, its not the entire menu they intend to sacrifice....after all I am giving them a chance....I am still single after living in India's capital for a couple of years..(hope u don't start assuming things here....and if u have, u can stop it...its false)...but the planetary configurations narrow my choice to half-gal look-alikes.......May the stars line up for me.....
To hell with the menu......but i am stuck in jasmine gardens!
PS: I am still neutral on the schools. First in, is in.
My parents were just short of giving me a Gantt chart on the project called marriage. My mom's ultimatum was that either I find a gal, or they will, within 2 years. Unfortunately I am stuck in a city where friday dressing means white silk saree with gold border and a jasmine garden on the head. oh..how I do empathize with Kirsh Malhotra of '2 States'. So a large pie-of-my-chart is commanded by my parents. So how does it feel like?
Arranged marriage is like a menu card.
0. Caste-Subcaste 1, 1.1, 1.2...., Subcaste 2, 2.1.2.2.....
1. Dowry-Lakhs or crores. Anything less, its a road-side eatery
2. Things that come free with dowry-car, gold etc etc etc.....
its a one time opportunity for the guy's family. Its the culmination of the family's efforts to get a degree and a green card tagged to the guy. Probably India is the only place where we find a third source of capital- equity, debt and dowry. Of course the last one doesn't fortunately have a secondary market!!
3. Assets-no pun intended ;) for god's sake...remember, the parents are reading the menu...
4. Color of skin- Dark(mentioned as wheatish), Fair, Very Fair
5. Education: let me tell you the choice here for me happens to be bad. 99.8679% are B.Tech if you are seeing Andhra gals.
well, there are more items on the menu card which are relegated to oblivion if the ones above are substantially large.
Does it end here? not yet....you have permutations and combinations of stars and planets that must match. I swear I will murder the next guy who discovers another planet in our solar system. We have enough to confuse us.
The funny part of an arranged marriage is the afford-ability or freedom to choose from the menu. So surely its an advantage for the guys!! You get most of the things you want!!!
Fortunately I have parents who care nothing for the top 3 items (oh..in this case zero before one cannot be ignored).....but i must confess, its not the entire menu they intend to sacrifice....after all I am giving them a chance....I am still single after living in India's capital for a couple of years..(hope u don't start assuming things here....and if u have, u can stop it...its false)...but the planetary configurations narrow my choice to half-gal look-alikes.......May the stars line up for me.....
To hell with the menu......but i am stuck in jasmine gardens!
PS: I am still neutral on the schools. First in, is in.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Pyar Impossible
Well, trying my hand at writing a movie review.
I went to the movie expecting a fun filled love story between a geek and a goddess in a college. Turns out the trailers were misleading. The college story ends in about 5 minutes if the song is discounted. Abhay Sharma (Uday Chopra) saves an extremely spoiled brat that Alisha(Priyanka Chopra) is when she falls into water trying to catwalk down the parapet wall of a bridge. The director doesn't allow PC to meet and thank UC so that this can form a guilt and repentance sequence later in the movie.
7 years later, Mr Geek creates an operating system that he is foolish enough to leave his laptop unlocked while meeting a wily probable investor-Dino Morea. I still don't see the purpose of a discrete pen-look-alike pen drive Dino uses to steal the software while UC is busy making a call to his dad for every half a decision. Of course, his dil ki dadhkan is still PC.
UC follows Dino to Singapore to discover that Dino actually used an alias. In another dreamy sequence he sees his love step out from a car. For the 'n'th time the world freezes when he sees her with a background score screeching 'Alishaaaa' and so does your interest freeze.
PC is the PR head of a company to which Mr. Varun (Dino) is trying to sell his stolen software. I wonder how PR head doesn't have a car and travels in a taxi. UC stalks her to discover that a 5th nanny quits due to the loving and cute monster daughter that PC has. So PC is a divorced single mom. And UC has no issues. UC is mistaken for th 6th nanny. The director then forces a 'breathless' from PC, and an unmanly UC doesn't get a chance to speak up. So he ends up doing daily chores. I find it over the top to see Priyanka's 6 yr old daughter plotting to hook-up UC to PC while a budding relationship develops between Alisha and Varun.
The final sequence begins with a confrontation of the 3 main characters. Varun conveniently reverses the story saying UC is a thief. UC, still maintains his dumbness. Priyanka realizes in few minutes that UC has been in love with her for 7 years. The guilt sequence is here. She redeems herself by revealing to the world the true story about the creator of that software.
The movie is filled with cliches and you keep wondering, why the hell is not Abhay speaking up, at many points.
Overall, go to the movie only if you want to see PC in ultra-minis that probably make her underpants feel guilty of covering too much.
I went to the movie expecting a fun filled love story between a geek and a goddess in a college. Turns out the trailers were misleading. The college story ends in about 5 minutes if the song is discounted. Abhay Sharma (Uday Chopra) saves an extremely spoiled brat that Alisha(Priyanka Chopra) is when she falls into water trying to catwalk down the parapet wall of a bridge. The director doesn't allow PC to meet and thank UC so that this can form a guilt and repentance sequence later in the movie.
7 years later, Mr Geek creates an operating system that he is foolish enough to leave his laptop unlocked while meeting a wily probable investor-Dino Morea. I still don't see the purpose of a discrete pen-look-alike pen drive Dino uses to steal the software while UC is busy making a call to his dad for every half a decision. Of course, his dil ki dadhkan is still PC.
UC follows Dino to Singapore to discover that Dino actually used an alias. In another dreamy sequence he sees his love step out from a car. For the 'n'th time the world freezes when he sees her with a background score screeching 'Alishaaaa' and so does your interest freeze.
PC is the PR head of a company to which Mr. Varun (Dino) is trying to sell his stolen software. I wonder how PR head doesn't have a car and travels in a taxi. UC stalks her to discover that a 5th nanny quits due to the loving and cute monster daughter that PC has. So PC is a divorced single mom. And UC has no issues. UC is mistaken for th 6th nanny. The director then forces a 'breathless' from PC, and an unmanly UC doesn't get a chance to speak up. So he ends up doing daily chores. I find it over the top to see Priyanka's 6 yr old daughter plotting to hook-up UC to PC while a budding relationship develops between Alisha and Varun.
The final sequence begins with a confrontation of the 3 main characters. Varun conveniently reverses the story saying UC is a thief. UC, still maintains his dumbness. Priyanka realizes in few minutes that UC has been in love with her for 7 years. The guilt sequence is here. She redeems herself by revealing to the world the true story about the creator of that software.
The movie is filled with cliches and you keep wondering, why the hell is not Abhay speaking up, at many points.
Overall, go to the movie only if you want to see PC in ultra-minis that probably make her underpants feel guilty of covering too much.
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