Buhlogging & tagging in the free world...

Are you happy/satisfied with your blog, its content and look? Does your family know about your blog?
I do not reminisce about nor rate my blog; it is and I am and we are happy with each other! Hmmm….maybe my brother knows…am sure mom doesnt. Yes, (voice deepens in that earth shaking infidelity revelation hindi movie tone…) let me admit that the fear that Blackie wouldn’t approve has kept me from revealing this dark truth to a darker doggie.

Do you feel embarrassed to let your friends know about your blog or do you consider it a private thing?
It’s a private thing; some of my closest friends know, some acquaintances have found out by accident. But I would rather have a space where I can write without having to appease different personalities or per-ordained cultures. Veritas vos liberabit.

Did blogs cause positive changes in your thoughts?
Yup…other bloggers like Alex have been a source of great inspiration and support. At other times, browsing through favourite blogs like silverine, confused female (whats new!), Arunther Dent have taken my mind off irritating work issues and given me a quiet smile….sometimes too loud a chuckle in office! ;-)

Do you only open the blogs of those who comment on your blog or you love to go and discover more by yourself?
(Guilty look 8-X)…yes, given that work is tight, that’s the normal routine that I follow…but from people like DoZ, I have chanced upon some fantastic blogs like India Uncut, A simple..., falstaff etc…I like to explore and discover…blog-hop, as the lady puts it, but hardly have the time.

What does the visitors counter mean to you? Do you care about putting it in your blog?
I don’t have one and actually it doesn’t matter. I write for myself more than others…its like biking or listening to a favorite song-you love it and you do it; but its also fun when you have a couple of others who understand and can join in.

Did you try to imagine your fellow bloggers and give them real pictures?
Guilty as charged…much as I hate to admit it, I do this…esp. with some wimmens…Hope is a tattered flag and a dream of time, Hope is a heart-spun word, the rainbow, the shadblow in white ;-)

Do you think there is a real benefit for blogging?
I think blogs are like scribble pads, diaries and journals… a vehicle of expression. Some are intensely personal, some are for the world at large, some a combo. Am too lazy on a Sunday morning to think further through this koshtin. Shorryyaawn.

Do you think that bloggers society is isolated from real world or interacts with events?
There is no “bloggers society”…atleast not in India where net penetration is at ridiculous levels. But in times of calamity and tragedy, bloggers seem to react and reach out to help…as do most of us in our real life.

Does criticism annoy you or do you feel it's a normal thing?
Yes, I HAVE A PROBLEM. If you have incisive thoughts about what I have written or have a serious counterpoint, feel free to join the fun and make your point. But sometimes an invisible line is crossed and this irritates me to no extent, makes me curl up my lips and tighten my biceps and reminds me of something I did long long ago as a kid “This is my corner, you like it, you like it. You don’t, go away.” Opinions are welcome , not judgements.

Do you fear some political blogs and avoid them?
Lights, Camera, Action…

“Fear?….ha ha ha…me?… ha ha ha….fear ha ha ha”

Director: That’s enough – CUT!
Sorry...carried away by tamil movie emoshuns!

Did you get shocked by the arrest of some bloggers?
I didn’t even know about it. I heard about Gaurav Sabnis and think hes a stud. Otherwise chill.

Did you think about what will happen to your blog after you die?
No, I don’t. I have enough things to live for and I don’t have the time or inclination to consider death and its effects.

What do you like to hear? What's the song you might like to put a link to in your blog?
I would love to hear a raspy Dylan or Baez in her soprano glory sing Forever Young:

Forever Young
May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

My musical taste is contextual and very eclectic, to say the least – it varies too much to pinpoint a particular preference.

For Alex, The Rock

I am thinking…I haven’t started work on my apps tonight …Seriously I often think about how I am missing out spending time with my mom, my dog and my home because of work.

I said…so far, so good, so what.

I want wine, woman, books, dogs, cottage in the hills, piano lessons and a 200 year old Japanese katana.

I wish I could write prose like Nabokov and poetry like Neruda.

I miss my father.

I hear the long whistle of the train.

I wonder at life, the universe and everything else.

I regret George W. Bush.

I am the Master of my fate, the Captain of my soul. So help me, God.

I dance...I do? Nah, not my style. I like watching friends dance, though.

I sing on my bike on the long and winding road.

I cry…no, I don’t.

I am not Elvis Presley, but my hair thinks it is.

I write stuff vaguely resembling poetry.

I confuse, he confuses, they confuse, we confuse, it confuses. Merci Beaucoup.

I need my family.

I should visit Europe.

I (don’t) finish water in bottles. A strange and useful habit. On long nights, on long waits, on long roads that go on and on and on.

Waking in the winter wonderland...

Today is one of those lovely days...it has been raining with a steady "kssssssssssssshhhhhhh" sound since I woke up at 6am...and serious slanting rain, splattering into your face when you stand in the balcony...all the world is grey and green and there is no horizon; just a misty sky that becomes a dark green earth...and I just had to whisper "Mother earth, you look beautiful today".

Now lets hope that office doesnt screw it up!

The View–1 more reason not to leave Kerala (PART 2)

The view from my flat-What at seemed a quiet evening soon became a furious fire…


First signs





Fury




Finale




Embers




Misty Grey & Green Morning After.



Amen and Thank You.

The View–1 more reason not to leave Kerala (PART 1)

The view from my office window.
I can gaze at hours at this serene meditation centre and come away feeling refreshed. When it rains, the pigeons cluck around and after reaching a quick consensus huddle under the eaves. When it doesn’t, bigger males patiently follow roaming females who lead them round and round in circles. Sounds familiar? ;-)



The view as I enter office (a.k.a. “I AM watching”)
Four churches within walking distance and the smell of frankincense and wax wafting through the air every time I come near office. Considering that I spend almost 10-12 hours every day at work , the fact I can drop into a quiet church for a few silent minutes whenever I feel like is a small perk which gives me severe happiness.



The view from my conference room
Students, parties, villagers, women–everybody comes to the Marine Drive to protest, march and create general mayhem. Nothing like a view with barricades, banners and a bunch of cops to break a dull coffee filled meeting. Note the barricades on the wrong road; on seeing the barricade, the students took a quick diversion to the opposite road and the startled police quickly followed suit. Student activism - Malaise? Menace? Must? Great arguments never end in Kerala–they just take a different route.



The view from the boss room
It helps that one has a decent boss. It really really helps that the decent boss has a room with a decent view and decent appetite-a stock of Hersheys and Oreos for those mind-crunching brainstorming sessions. From cruise ships to breaking thunderstorms to oil tankers to noisy tourists to fishermen in catamarans to funny birds with bright green wings, I never get tired of this view. At night the glitter of the harbour, the swaying of the giant cranes and the steady drizzle of the rain make for a wonderful end to the day. Corner room, here I come.

Chicago GSB @ Bangalore

Attended the Chicago GSB reception at Bangalore yesterday. Along with approx. 100 other talented, extraordinary Indians who all want to make it to the Windy City. Amen.

The presentation moved on a semi-formal note; Kurt Olsen (?) the Adcom head introduced himself and a couple of alums and went on to explain about the school.

Main points touted about the school were:
 70 Nobel Prize winners as faculty (tempted to ask how many of them teach but desisted)
 Chicago has the 2nd highest no of Fortune 500 offices next to the Big Apple.
 If you are going to do your 2nd MBA, you need to clearly explain Why.
 Alumni network is very strong and quite dedicated (is what one would assume based on the ppt)
 All the alumni present there had worked for quite some time in the US before applying for Chicago.
 Being in a top school is like getting invited to the dance; what you do at the “recruiting” dance is upto you.
 New Hyde Park centre which is like a giant glass lobby in the middle of the Univ.
 Guaranteed loan without cosignors available for international students.
 TOEFL can be waived for good English speakers.
 Other arbitrary points adding up to saying that you need to spend approx. 50 lakhs for 2 years.

Alumni
 “Cool dude” looking alumni casually mentioned “Started a company in 2000; sold it in 2003; started and operating my 2nd company”…and audience is like “oooooohhh” Am like “Me, I do that every week”.
 Another squeaky voiced current student explained how he is “discovering himself” and learning to do all kinds of dancing over there. Expensive classes, these $100,000 dollar dancing classes.
 Another s/ware techie alum explained how he had come out of the US and was working with HP out of B’lore. Bugger got irritated about how the audience wasn’t sticking to the question format

Grub
 Looked appetizing but I missed it since the bus to Cochin was at 9pm.

Conclusion
 Chicago was in my original list of schools for 1st round applications. Now decision stands firm.

1st Anniversary

Been 1 year since I started blogging, so here we go again…reprint of one of my oldest favourites.

• This was in response to a British Council competition where one had to create a poem with the following words:


• Paint/ hue/ Chi-chi/ riff-raff/lava/ jasmine/ dolourous/ gorilla/ sinuous/ whorl/ avant-garde/ mish-mash/ cubicle.


• Came out better than I thought it would in the half an hour that I took to write it. I hope they appreciate such bursts of creativity at Tuck or Harvard or Wharton ;-)

LAB REPORT 312: SPILT QUICKSILVER.
She was just that type,
Who did not paint her toenails,
Hue her lips,
Shadow her eyes,
But dared you to imagine them
Painted.She was just that type
Who kissed all dogs on the mouth,
All the Jimmys,Chi-Chis,Babus,
Blackies,Manis,Brunos.
All veteran riff-raffs,
Of the mongrel world.
And it was thus that,
An initially enchanted Dr.Seetharaman-Very famous veterinarian,
Her fiancee of 2 months
18 hand-holdings,
3 kisses-2 full,2 halfs(Kisses being what they are,
she was quite precise)
5 hushed dinners,And one Solitaire ring,
Broke off the engagement,
Citing hygienic reasons.

She was just that type,
Who lets you burn
In dark green envy,And then dips in the lava
That you pour forth,
Burns herself,
And so diffusesA smouldering scent so
Unlike the fresh smell of jasmine,or the slightly wet lily after rain.
This was that burnt,sandalwood incense-smell
That promised hidden Garba-grihas
The sanctum sanctorums
Inside her Sanskrit mind,
For those who dared to stroll
Those nether regions,
She offered dark Chidambaram temples With small lamps in damp corners
Where the stone sculptures
Cannot be seen, only felt.
Such were the perceptual promises of
Her sinuous mind.

She was just that type,
Pretended to murmur secret invitations
To your best male friends,
Chaiwallahs, melon-sellers,
And the traffic policemen.
Just to see
That red rage of a matador's muleta
Wave so well on your windy cheeks
Just to hear
That angry Wagner refrain
Dancing in your lighted eyes,
And then when you start to
Silently trade sound for frozen fury,
She would coyly become
Amy,the amazing African gorilla
Who could speak
Over 2000 words
With only her fingertips.
And dolourous eyes.


She was just that type,
Who could and did in a moments glance,
Make mish-mash of your
Carefully rehearsed proposal,
Gleefully unaware that you had
ractised it for 4 hours


In front of the toothpaste stained bathroom mirror.
And so would make you slightly crush that
The outermost-whorl of that
Hidden red rose in your jeans pocket.
Slightly.
And suddenly all the soft pink words
On ribboned paper,
Start sounding silly
For avant-garde Athena,
Who proceeds to explain
The Fibonacci sequence
On a paper napkin,
With vague arrangements of peanuts,
For analogy.


She was just the type,
Who hungrily devours,
All the arguments that
You had carefully stored
In your mind's cubicles.
And proceeds to fill those shelves
With bottled kerosene
Which she can at will
Set afire
By shooting and so shattering.

She was just the type,
That 25 mercuric years
And 30 inches of Levis
Could barely contain with quiet restraint.
And so she jumped
Out of the 6th floor window
On a clear, sunny,
Sky-blue evening of Darjeeling's sunshine,
Twelve months after she said Yes,
Nine months after her father punched me,
Six months after we walked down
A flowery-arched aisle,
She in snowy white, me in Armani blue.
The day those giggly piggy-tailed flower girls
Almost lost our ring.


But in passing mention, I must say that
She was just the type who
Could and did carefully remove that ring,
Posted it,
From a 6th floor room,
On a clear, sunny,
Sky-blue evening of Darjeeling's sunshine.


I am bored; therefore I tag – Silverine/ Alexis/ Tyler Durden/ Mind Curry – to try this out.

Truth Vs Good.

Today I bent the truth to be kind, and I have no regret, for I am far surer of what is kind than I am of what is true.
- Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1938- )

1000s of words...

She did this to me. She who is called Silverine .

1.Most desired celebrity


Why Angelina?
Not because she’s bisexual. Not because she adopted Maddox from a Cambodian orphanage. Not because she’s got luscious lips and a figure to match. Not because she founded the National Council for Refugee & Immigrant Children. Not for being delightfully nude in Original Sin. Not because she adopted Zahara from Africa and not because Zahara means flower in Swahili. Not because she chose to be a mother and gave birth to a daughter in Namibia. Not for saying “Why sodomize dragonflies?”. Not for naming her daughter Shiloh-“The Peaceful One”. Not for that wet T-shirt photo. Not for being the god-daughter of another famous wet T-shirt wearer – Jacqueline Bisset. Not for that slinky sexy voice of Lola in Shark Tale. Not for publishing a collection of notes while travelling across the world as a UN Goodwill Ambassador. Not for the half a million she got for allowing People to photograph her while pregnant and not for donating it to a Haitian charity. Not for the "A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages" tattooed on her left forearm. Not because her name means “Little Angel” in Italian. Not because she collects knives. Not because she likes her “sex to be wild”. Not for her $1 million to Afghanistan….What at all could it be?!?

2.Want to do this some day






Backpack through Italy, France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Poland, Greece, Spain...(If I said Europe, I know someone who will bash me up ;-) Trace the marble folds of The Pieta, ride a gondola in Venice, drink coffee in Rome, toss a coin into the Trevi fountains, eat sprungli in Zurich, sacher-torte in Vienna, breathe the rarefied air of Jungfraujoch, see the sun through stained glass at Notre Dame, tread the ruins of the Acropolis and sleep for a night in the hills of Sicily. One at a time - the money is the only thing holding it back.


3.Want to visit this place

ALASKA
Touch a whale, watch bears, walk across glaciers, mush with huskies, aurora borealis, kayak down the Kenai, sea lions on a rock, bull-moose in the wilderness, mirror-lake at noon, the mountains at midnight.


4.Random Favorite
“How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man”
- Bob Dylan.

The trappings…
Lord Horatio Nelson, Viscount and Baron Nelson, of the Nile and of Burnham Thorpe in the County of Norfolk, Baron Nelson of the Nile and of Hillborough in the said County, Knight of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, Vice Admiral of the White Squadron of the Fleet, Commander in Chief of his Majesty's Ships and Vessels in the Mediterranean, Duke of Bronte in Sicily, Knight Grand Cross of the Sicilian Order of St Ferdinand and of Merit, Member of the Ottoman Order of the Crescent, Knight Grand Commander of the Order of St. Joachim.

The truth…
- Started as a seaman, ended as an Admiral.
- Captain of HMS Hinchinbroke, HMS Boreas, HMS Albemarle, HMS Agamemnon, HMS Theseus, HMS Captain, HMS Fourdroyant, HMS Victory.
- Sufferer of chronic sea sickness & near death malaria.
- Lost an eye. Lost an arm. Went to sea again.
- Originator of 1.The Nelson Touch 2.“England expects that every man will do his duty” 3. “Thank God I have done my duty".
- Leader of Men, Master Mariner, Volcano Lover.

5. I was tagged by Silverine
.
Danks u for the image posting tip, lady.It was a pain, but looks like its well worth it

Ithaka!

- Constantine P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find the things like that on your way
as long as you keep thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony.
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.


WHAT I LIKE ABOUT THIS POEM....

ITHAKA - THE TITLE
I have always been enamoured by history, myth, places & journeys; One of my other favs is Ulysses (Tennyson). And the title of the poem, like the label of a wine or the name of a woman, is a fascinating precursor to what is yet to come. Sometimes in flowing harmony, sometimes in crashing discord! ;-)

THE CORE
The journey is the reward...it was Ulysses' choice to go on "a" journey and go on "this" journey...too often we miss out these journeys and and prefer to stay at the safe harbour of home...and caught in the humdrum of everyday life, we dont even realize what we are missing out...and am not just talking about a physical journey from moor to mountain, but the journey to a decision, to a career, to a relationship where we often prefer the taken path, the broken road...at these times, we need the vision to see our own Ithakas ...with firmly rooted feet ofcourse.

Also what I have come to know as my locus of control funda - what you are decides what the world is...
"you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you"
What we see and what we feel during a journey is as much as what we want to as much as what is there...a nights wait at a strange airport, a 5 minute stopover in some foreign field, a funnily named dish...think adventure!

THE IMAGERY
"Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon"
"mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony.
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can"
WoW!

THE END
"you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean"
In utter awe of this line...what an end! The poem ends in the same way that Ulysses would have ended his journey...a rugged man with his proud scars and Penelope, reminiscing, on the white cliffs of Greece with a cup of wine gazing at the crashing sea and the wild wild sun...as it goes down.