Amina clap clap clap
Katamina clap clap clap
Sing-a-Song clap clap clap
Ding-a-Dong clap clap clap
Carrom Board clap clap clap
Barom Board clap clap clap
S.T.O.P Stop :)

(I wasn't happy to find that all my friends and cousins remembered the last two lines and I did not!)

In the last eight years, I have successfully transitioned from crying at the sight of roadkill to casually commenting on it. Now when I see a dead deer or raccoon, I am thinking "Fresh Kill" or "Flat Meat" like I am about to pull over and decide which one to have for dinner! It still makes me queasy and I go quiet for a few minutes, but I think I am less sensitive to it now.

In some U.S. states it is legal and even encouraged to eat roadkill. Makes sense! Take just the fact that 1.5 million deer meet their end on the road every year in the US. It made me wonder if the homeless shelters could somehow take advantage of this ... perhaps with the help of the State Trooper Association or the Dept. of Transportation?

There are tons of recipe books and websites dedicated to roadkill --- deer, raccoon, skunk, moose, bear, wolf, dog, cat, rat, elk, armadillo, small and large birds, rabbit, turtle, kangaroo, opossums, some snakes and reptiles, and hold your breath... porcupine!

It was as though the entire zoo was let out on the road to be tattooed with tire threads! You could just look out your car window for some nature time (even if it is more morbid than seeing live ones behind bars)

A few years ago, we bumped into a very friendly couple in La Jolla in Sandiego who (apart from teaching us how to pronounce La Jolla) enlightened us on local culture... there was a whole assortment of facts peculiar only to san diego that we were happy to learn about... But related to roadkill, I remember being told that Roadkill Bingo was a popular game in the west coast. It is a nice way to kill time in long distance travel while encouraging kids to learn the animals of their natural habit.

Roadkill undoubtedly is a worldwide phenomenon (at least wherever there are roads with lots of traffic) There is clearly a lot of culture developed around it... For instance, I saw an interesting book that teaches you how to cook directly on a running car engine... I bet it was written by a very resourceful person who had a lot of experience making delicious meals out of fresh kill.

Having read Yann Martel's Beatrice and Virgil recently, I thought it was possible that roadkill art is popular with taxidermists. They could probably make a living by choosing to do just roadkill! So I went on a web search frenzy and found several sites full of roadkill art.




I also found lots of roadkill toys. Some look disgusting, or creatively mean-spirited, but there are a few that are actually not too bad. There is even a roadkilltoys.com (!)

About five years ago, Kraft Foods was forced to kill one of their gummy products. Their Trolli Road Kill Gummies were gummy-animals shaped like roadkill complete with tire threads. People thought it sent out a very bad message to kids. I wonder what that bad message was! Especially given that New Jersey, which strongly lobbied against this gummy actually lets you eat roadkill if you have a permit. Why then do they think it offensive to eat fake roadkill?

It is the equivalent of letting you eat a real human brain and banning the human brain shaped jello!

That also makes me wonder if there is protest against all other kinds of gross candy. I see several in candy stores. There are jello molds shaped like human body parts - heart, brain and intestines, candies shaped like eyeballs, sour gummies shaped like toilet plungers, bugs and worms, pigs pooping out candy. Is anyone protesting against them? (Not that I mind either way.)

One of my favor go-to comic books is Stone Soup's Road Kill for the Closet. FYI: It has nothing to do with roadkill. The comic is about a single mom bringing up her two kids. Living with her are also her mom and her recently-divorced sister who is in love with her neighbour! As simple as that. It is the most endearing comic I have read. Funny, heartening and absolutely lovable. Since the title has Road Kill on it, I thought now might be a perfect time to promote it. :)

I wonder if I might find this in my library: Flattened Fauna: A Field Guide to Common Animals of Roads, Streets, and Highways

I'll tell you what a perfect left-handed-compliment-almost-leaning-towards-the-compliment is! It is when someone says, "THAT lipstick post you wrote on your blog was lame. Most people reading your blog are undoubtedly men and may even be single. They won't dig that syrupy stuff unless it came with a pinup of a sexy woman wearing nothing but a pout... you even alluded to something nude"

That's right. I said Nude "lipstick"!

And guess what in that sentence really caught my attention? :)

Whether I inherited my grandmom's beauty and aesthetic sense or not, I certainly inherited her taste in lipstick shades! She always uses lipsticks in the most uncompromising shades of nude that are striking and subtle. And finding those shades of pink and red with the perfect amount of sheen of her liking is exasperating. But, I'll do it for her :)

Nude lipsticks are never nude in the true sense of the word. They have just about the right amount of color to complement one's attire and enhance the oomph that one needs to make a statement. I think it is especially sensuous when paired with smokey eye makeup.

But, I wonder if I use nude also because I don't have the artistic flair to try out other looks. But, if I did, wouldn't it just be lovely? Especially now that I feel like I need a miracle to look half decent!

I was sitting across this really pretty asian girl (also immensely-talented, as evidenced by her makeup) who looked so much like Kim Kardashian. She wore a figure-hugging black dress with cascading frills, some bold shimmering accessories, and dangerously high stiletto heels... But, it wasn't any of that or her long gorgeous hair and smokey eyes that I was covetously admiring.. It was her voluptuous lips in a shimmering silver! (and mind you, it looked far from glitzy... in fact, it was delicate and almost muted because of the way she wore it... in varying hues) It occurred to me that I have never tried that color on my lips! My life suddenly seemed dull and hollow. :)

Makeup is such a beautiful and intimate form of self-expression. One would think that all the skill and imagination it requires, the reciprocal interaction that it inspires, the emotions it conveys and the stories it tells would have made it an admired art form, but it only seems to have achieved that status in some circles! I wonder why that is... especially given that it is so ubiquitous (and varied)!

Spoiler but not a Review.

Perhaps what Nolan meant to do with the spinning totem is to put us in a prolonged-state of limbo by planting a million ideas in our head. What it also did in the process is to entertain us immensely by being brilliant and distorted. But what is our totem? How do we get out of this state of limbo that Nolan put us in and know for sure that we are now in the real world? And would it matter if all this were a dream?

Moreover, was the totem for real or was it a spin-off from Cobb's imagination?

For a totem to work as a squeaky clean method to track one's reality, its creator alone should be able to identify and predict its behavior. And if that's the case, at some point in the movie we realize that the top was Mal's totem, so it could not have helped Cobb ascertain if he was awake or inside a dream...unless Mal too was a spin-off from Cobb's imagination -- a projection while he was in limbo. (there are a few pointers to this... some evidence even seems to suggest that he has always been in limbo)

As we see with Cobb in the end of the movie and with Mal when she jumps off the cliff, it seems like after a point it becomes less important to prove reality to oneself and more important to just achieve it. Mal achieves her reality when she jumps off the building and Cobb when he finds his children. It could have meant nothing to Cobb that the totem didn't spin flawlessly in the end like it usually does in a dream, or that it didn't stop spinning! He had by then come to terms with the loss of his wife and found his children. (It was interesting to note that in all the years the children had never aged, which only brings me to surmise that the top never stopped spinning in the end, and it was all Cobb’s dream. But that doesn’t still explain why the top didn’t always spin continuously in other parts of the movie).

But does one need a totem? After all, Cobb and Mal didn't seem to need it for years before she came up with hers. It was in fact her idea to use totems to tell the two worlds apart, and ironically enough, hers never stopped spinning in both worlds. We never find out what Cobb's totem is or if he even had one? Ariadne wasn't seen using her uneven chess piece, or Arthur his loaded dice. What it seemed to do for Cobb though is to serve as a compass to guide him back home. Either that or it was just a token of Mal's memory that was purposeful only because he imagined it to be.

In our real world, our totems are more cognitive. A classic test to tell dreams from reality is to perform an action and check if the results are consistent with what happens when we are awake. For instance, when you are in a dream state, the text in digital watches is said to be scrambled with the characters changing at every glance. The reflection of oneself in a mirror is distorted. The ground beneath one's feet is unstable. The tempo of the music one's listening to is different or warped. We don't always wake up to physical pain or "kicks". They blend into our dream and shape the unfolding drama. In the movie, Yusuf's urge to badly want to pee caused it to rain heavily in the dream... The van falling off the bridge caused zero-gravity in the hotel...music was used to synchronize the kicks across different dream levels... and ìkicksî (physical action) were supposed to jolt them out of their dream state! There is also an interesting point about how people perceive us in our subconscious (the curious glances with all eyes fixed on the dreamer, when the subconscious mind becomes aware of external intrusion into a dream).

At some point in the movie, the time-warp seemed faulty. On a very superficial level, five minutes of dream time was said to be an hour of reality. What this meant was that the 10 hours in the plane to LA translated to 120 hours of dream time in level 1, 1440 hrs of dream time in level 2, and 17,280 hrs of dream time in level 3, which means the team that went down three dream levels had almost 2 years to implant the idea in Fischer's head. But, somehow in the third level they seemed to be rushed for time, and did everything like they had only a few hours to get the job done. I just didn't get why that was so! I had imagined the whole dream sequence to turn into a long Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind equivalent, and was preparing myself to see them hop through Fischer's memories for months to accomplish the three tasks in the three dream levels. (Still Saito seemed to have aged significantly from being in limbo)

The movie initially felt unresolved. It felt like a lot of time was spent focussing on bringing closure to Cobb's relationship with Mal and taking him back to his children. It looked like he did little to contribute to the actual job at hand, which was to implant an idea into Fischer's head of dissolving his father’s empire. The team seemed to do a contrived job where there roles weren't clear beyond having to sedate him and administer the kick. It almost seemed like Fischer implanted the idea of dissolving the empire by himself without needing any prodding from the team.

But in retrospect, a lot of effort went into goading Fischer's mind in the right direction. There was the kidnapping sequence that went awry; Fischer was extorted into remembering the combination on the safe's lock to rescue his godfather; they then planted doubts about the intentions of his godfather in Fischer's mind (which is resolved in the final level. I especially liked the part where the team encounters Fischer's own subconscious projection of his godfather), and had Cobb alert Fischer to this imaginary series of actions in his subconscious mind. That's one hell of a job! .. and all this was done not just by hopping through three dream levels, but also by navigating through several people's dreams. The inception began with Yusuf's dream and moved to Arthur's, then Eame’s/Fischer's (who thinks he is going into Browning's dream) and finally Cobb’s. The only thing tying them together was Ariadne's architecture... while Cobb's emotional distraction seemed to test the latitude of these dream spaces and at times threatened to jeopardize their single-minded goal.

What this did was restrict the movement of the dreamers in each level, while at the same time giving them very important tasks to do beyond just dreaming. Would it have been easier on them had they assigned new teams of non-dreamers to perform the tasks (like administering the kick), while the important guys focused on more tactical undertakings (like manipulating Fischer's mind)? That would have made for messy drama, but on a purely logistics point-of-view, without considering the constraints of film structure, the execution of the tasks may have been more structured and simplified....and perhaps more thought-provoking.

When a film is as three-dimensional as this one, with so much cogitate on, the last thing you want to do is to scoff at little flaws in plot logic. It becomes inconsequential why Cobb and Mal look young in her death scene, if they looked like an old couple in another other scene... or why she staged a dramatic murder act in one hotel room and then rented another hotel room across it to jump off, if she was trying to frame Cobb for the murder (or convince him to jump with her after ridding himself of guilt about the children).

It wasn't clear what the point of creating dream worlds in mazes was, for they were never used except in one hotel sequence where Arthur walks through a staircase that leads to a dead-end. In fact, in some of the levels the constructs were not even mazes. But Araidne served her purpose as an architect in some metaphoric sense. Cobb needed a female companion to enter his subconscious and empathize with his agony. What she did was to navigate through the maze in his life and help him find his end.

It was not clear how Cobb and Saito got back to reality in the plane, given that they were both in limbo - Cobb from drowning and Saito from the bullet wound! Cobb somehow managed to resurface in Saito's dream and bring him back to reality even though he could not be resuscitated (unlike Fischer). That didn't make sense. It also didn’t make sense why Saito looked so much older than Cobb while they were in the same dream level. I'll just make-do with one of those "dreams are rarely sound or sequential" explanations to satisfy this doubt.

Speaking of which, there was little done to take advantage of the logical fallacies in dreams. There was the staircase that served to satisfy this point... there was the fight sequence in zero-gravity... some cool architectural constructs that Araidne created that defied the laws of physics... but little was done in the way of showing paradoxes in mental logic. Wouldn't it have been exciting if at each level, the dreamer said something illogical that sounded logical to everyone in the scene, and advanced their goal of implanting idea more easily?

On some level I wish there was some justification for why the team would put themselves through this risky job. Cobb was the only person who had a lot at stake for which it made sense that he risk his life!

But there was something for us in all this. There was the idea that we could all share dreams to experience reality. But that the deeper you dive into someone's dreams, the more likely it is that we may hit limbo or spend a whole lifetime navigating the maze of dreams within dreams. But, limbo isn't a deadend for all. In Cobb and Mal's case it was an unconstructed space that they spent years filling with memories and places from their past life. But it took over their lives in irreversible ways, where the line between real and unreal became imperceptible. Cobb and Mal both tried to get out of it, and became consumed by it... in the end it was hard to tell where they each found their peace!

There is a back and forth on whether Mal was ever real or if she was entirely Cobb’s construct. One the one hand, it is assumed that when a person is in limbo he is completely alone, which means Cobb created a projection of his wife and children in the same way he did the buildings and memories over time. Then again, there were times when she felt entirely real. By the end of the film, it was not clear what Cobb's limbo looks like, or if everything were events in Cobb's subconscious... that he was so lost in deeper levels of his dreams that he never found out that he did not get out. He probably just travelled between deeper and relatively-outer levels of his dreams. The question that begs asking to clarify this one point is if one can get into the dreams of one's projections.

There is speculation on what motivates killing... whether it is to go into limbo or to reappear in real life (even the protagonists didn't seem sure... they seem to have acted on their thoughts with little regard to consequence).

As I think about it, there is so much that made sense and so much that did not in the movie. It felt open-ended but also flawed... or more politely – distorted...warped. It almost felt like the amusement was in navigating through the loopholes in this labyrinth of what the film could have been... or may have been... like it was open not to interpretation but to assault :)

Wouldn't it be nice if all airline tickets included a carbon offset fee to counter the effects of air travel? From the carbon calculator in Sustainable Travel International I learnt that my personal share in this DC-India round-trip is about 6.5609 tons of CO2 emissions. The total cost to offset this amount of CO2 is somewhere between $100 to $200, depending on the kind of offset project I choose to invest in. They have a few renewable energy, energy efficiency and international reforestation projects to choose from.

While this sounded exorbitant, I looked up their offset costs for domestic travel. A visit to my brother's at Boston from DC would mean .3136 tons of CO2 and can be offset for less than $10, which doesn't sound bad at all.

The site also has calculators to figure out carbon offsets for other things like driving, home energy, hotel stay and events. I figure there are tons of companies offering all sorts of offset programs in the lines of planting trees or offsetting our electricity use with wind power... Sometimes, the over-abundance of choice can be paralyzing. I started reading a wiki entry on Carbon Offsets and went on to read about different projects. They all sounded impressive and/or ambiguous, as one might imagine they would to my kind of people with contemptible intellectual and moral ignorance. How does one do the right thing? For now, I am going with my gut (and your help is welcome :)

(With Nainamma- Dad's mom and Ammamma - Mom's mom)

I just got back from spending several weeks in India with family. The only way to describe the last few weeks is to go the Victorian novel route -- which is to use a million analogies and adjectives to describe the collision of emotions I felt with every breath. Either that, or I spend the next several weeks *scratch that* days processing my experience before presenting it to the external world. There is a fear that the longer I wait the farther I will go from it.

How do I go back and freeze time? How can I move on?

I am contributing to the million articles written by patients about weight gain from taking inhaled (like albuterol) and oral (like prednisone) corticosteroids for asthma. Stating the obvious, the side effects of these medications vary from person to person and also depend on the dosage and the length of time they are taken. If you've taken them long enough and have talked to a doctor, you know what these side effects are and also know what to do to deal with them. I realize that being a patient does not in anyway qualify me as an expert on this subject, so doctors, please don't hate me for sharing my experience. :) Here, I only speak of what I do to lose weight after my treatment. Correct me if I am wrong.

Every year, I gain at least 20 lbs when I take my medications and I try not to lose sleep over looking full-faced! It takes a lot of convincing to tell myself that the weight gain is a fair sacrifice for mending my breathing. But, the good news is that the side effects of steroids is temporary and with diet and exercise the weight gain can be easily reversed in a few weeks time. I find that the best way to go about undoing the weight gain is to first understand what causes it. From reading online and talking to doctors, these seem to be some reasons why steroids cause weight gain:

One, that steroids cause sodium retention and potassium depletion in the body. The two together cause increased fluid retention (edema) and swelling. I have a swollen face, and fair amount of fluid retention in my legs. I have been told that restricting the amount of salt you take and having a diet that is rich in potassium can help reduce fluid retention.

Two, that steroids cause an increase in appetite. This, in my opinion is the real enemy. Now it is easy to say one should be careful about their food intake, but when you are ravenous and feel like you can eat an elephant alive, this idea of self-control seems impossible to follow and "hard to swallow". What makes it worse is, even after you are off medication, you still continue to remain a slave to this eating habit that you developed during your treatment and keep blaming the steroid for your vices! I can see that I am becoming one of those people who is eternally fixated on food (especially the rich/junk kind) and keep blaming the steroids for it.

Three, that steroids cause us to excuse ourselves from physical activity. A part of this excuse is valid of course. You can't possibly work out if your asthma is exercise-induced, or you are wheezing or coughing incessantly and are breathless all the time. Also, steroids cause high blood pressure, body pain, muscle and bone weakness, and decrease in stamina (especially long-term use). In my case, the real reason for lack of physical activity is lethargy. Being on steroids sounds like a convenient excuse not to exercise, but it really is not. Ironically, lack of exercise leads to obesity and obesity increases chances of asthma and asthma intern leads to obesity (through steroid intake).

Medics seem undecided on whether exercise helps with prevention of asthma or not. Some suggest that some kinds of exercises (like pranayama and buteyko) stretch the lungs and bronchial tubes, which may help reduce resistance to breathing and even encourage normal diaphragmatic breathing. Exercise also improves one's tolerance to physical exertion. That being said, sustained aerobic exercises might trigger an attack, so talk to your doctor on what might suit you best. It is generally advised that asthmatics should exercise towards the lower end of their target heart-rate. Here are some exercises listed in the order of "least to most-likely to induce asthma": swimming, walking, cycling, treadmill running, outdoor running!

To summarize: eating many small meals throughout the day, decreasing calorie intake, salt and sugar intake (sugar because steroids also increase blood-sugar level), increasing calcium and potassium in-take and exercising should do the trick.

I know that sounds like a lot... especially considering that this cycle repeats itself every year. But then again, looking good in a month’s time and for a good 10 months at a stretch is reward enough.

This post does not address other short and long term side effects of corticosteroids, which I might write about when they begin to bother me as much as weight gain currently is. But, I am off my steroids for this year (I hope!) and am getting ready for my workout. Wish me luck :)

Hyderabad, observe with me. (America, learn) :)

I counted 13 single (i.e. one in a pair) flip-flops on main roads all over the city over the last one week. Could they have just slipped off the feet of people sitting on scooters OR are slippers being flung at unsuspecting riders? If you have lost yours, or have had them flung at you, you are not alone! The Chappal Punch may be a bigger nuisance than we realize. :)


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Helvetica, which is one of the most popular fonts for commercial use all over the world hasn't yet taken over as the preferred typeface on lorries and autos :) I am happy to report that lorries and autos still have beautiful artwork painted on them in bright colors. I have been seeing the most exquisite paintings of mythical figures and auspicious symbols exemplifying several ideals and desires: spirituality, secularity, patriotism, good fortune... It is always amusing to see the permutation varieties of "Horn OK Please" painted in different typefaces. :) It's especially amusing that the phrase is still in use. The OK indicates On Kerosene and was used back in the day (around the 2nd World War) when lorries ran on kerosene, which is highly unstable. The traffic regulations don't require this warning to be attached, but it still continues to remain a cult tradition with lorry drivers. Some lorries even say "Horn Please, OK? Tata" :) There is also an Indian film called "Horn Ok Pleassss"

Why autorikshaws have "Please Sound Horn" or "Keep Safe Distance" is a mystery to me (unless we assume that they have a wicked sense of humor and want to tease us with the warning). They are the ones usually straining to squeeze between vehicles and hazardously sound their fancy tijuana-style horns to the rhythm of the music playing from their custom-mounted boom-boom stereos .

I remember my driver telling me many years ago that owners spend up to a lakh rupees per lorry getting just the bodywork done (autos spend between Rs. 5000-10,000). They take a lot of pride in the aesthetic of their conveyance, but beyond the aesthetic it is also a way to build their brand and look legit to patrons. For instance, the beautiful ornamental fittings above the lorries cab help owners hide excess goods from the traffic police. The sounding chains on the side dissuade small vehicles from driving recklessly.

It used to be that tongas and cycle rikshaws had the most beautiful flowers and birds (mostly lotuses, peacocks and tigers (or cows), which are our national flora and fauna) painted on them. They also had elegant floral or velvet hoods (if they could afford it). Some of them had these shiny pompoms hanging from both sides of the handle and ornate metallic baskets or plasticine cutouts jutting in the front. The seats had bright upholstery covers, the back rest had oil-painted portraits of film actors and actresses (sridevi), and the platform was either of a bright reflective metal kind or had rangoli painted on it. Some of them were made to look like Rathas or temple chariots. I don't see these rikshaws anymore (although DC and Manhattan are abundant in their contemporary equivalents with environmental messages pasted on them)! Here, both the cycle rikshaws and their pullers look quite haggard! I read some heartbreaking stories of their difficult lives over the last few days and it's hard to say what would make them happy - if rikshaws were banned altogether or promoted more widely. Whatever it is, I hope they at least make them safe and respectable! (Note to self: Watch Men of Burden: Pedaling Towards a Horizon)


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I find that each mode of transport is a harbinger of a different kind of message. For instance buses have become moving billboards with product ads, political posters and social messages. I am told they are highly effective and are being sought out more than ever, because they drive alongside their target audience and therefore leave a long-lasting impression. On the other hand, regular billboards catch your attention only fleetingly except at the traffic stops.
Unlike buses, autos are less propagandist and more reflective of the driver or owners' personalities. The loud music aside, their disco-style flamboyance is exhibited more inwardly (with their interiors and music).

You know how when you talk about one kind of street art, you feel the need to list out every other kind of art you see around you? (like graffiti, wall posters, billboards, retail store sign boards... also dressing up of cows, horses and camels) and then you become cognizant of your city's eye-appeal and creative use of space.... Advertisements are omnipresent! If there is a perceptible medium in view, such as a flyover, a building, a wall, a tree, a circle, a divider, a light pole, a vehicle... it becomes a canvas for some plug!


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There are plant thieves all around us. Everywhere I go, battle plans are being drawn on three broad fronts. There are the tropical summer fruits (mangoes, pomegranates, sapodillas (chikoos), jackfruits) growing on high and medium branches, vegetables growing closer to the ground, religious flowers blooming in abundance in every height, shape and form... the fear I think is also that their invasion is endangering home security. I have sat through some really hilarious conversations in at least three places where relatives were strategizing how to protect their vegetation from "hungry and religious" thieves. The good news is no one seems to be interested in wild flowers, ornamental plants, seedless vascular and nonvascular plants (that I like) and the gardens are full of them! Thieves aside, I am mostly thrilled to see beautiful gardens everywhere I go. Despite the growing jungle of buildings, I see spectacular gardens and patches, and even timberlands with tropical trees of irregular shapes that stand out beautifully amid the concrete.


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There are more bird species in Hyderabad than you can count. You only notice them when you are back on a visit after leaving the city for a few years (and have the "real" bird-flu) :) So the next time someone laments that they have all vanished wake them up at 5 in the morning and take them outside. Hyderabad is still a birds paradise with at least 20 species right in ones backyard, and hundreds in sanctuaries. There are many migratory birds traveling here all the way from eurasia every year. I have also been seeing a lot of bright-colored insects and vertebrates in the garden, especially when it rains.


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I am nurturing the tourist in me and reading up on hyderabad. I was excited to learn that the city (and the deccan plateau on the whole) is full of beautiful monolithic rocks that are among the oldest and hardest in the world. Many of them are over 2500 million years old. To put it in perspective, the himalayan mountains are 70 million years old. The city's grey and pink granite ridges are among the oldest in the world. There are trees over 500 years old (including a banyan tree in Pillalamarri near Mahbubnagar that is 700 years old). While I have spent my time both admiring and bemoaning our new and old manmade heritage (albeit ignorantly), I don't know why I never learnt about these natural wonders. I am also picking up a lot of other interesting facts and legends about the city and falling in love with it all over again. In the mean time, Hyderabad has also been keeping me entertained culturally. There's always something going on in the city - walks (like the ones organized by Greater Hyderabad Adventure Club), art exhibitions, music concerts, dance programs, plays.... There is so much variety to choose from and so little time to enjoy everything. (FYI: cluburb.com is a great place online to find events in Hyderabad)


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The cell phone music syndrome, where the caller is tormented with music, and the receiver hears a more conservative "ring ring" is shifting from bollywood and bhajans to Kabir and Tulsi Das' Dohe.

FYI from one brahmin to another: the gayatri mantram you still have as your ringtone is meant to be recited inwardly to Savitr (sun god: the impeller, rouser, vivifier) during sunrise and sunset by brahmin men only (especially that secret para you learnt during your upanayanam). Must you share your praise and appeal for wisdom and enlightenment so brazenly with us low-ranking women (also non-brahmin men) and have us commit the transgression of learning it?

Also shouldn't the "ring ring" be on the callers side and the mantram be on your side? or is the reasoning that Savitr might call you one day and listen to your appeal!


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I haven't still figured out if it is a good thing or a bad thing that there are 6 sales representatives to cater to one customer in retail stores! They all look bored, underworked and eager to help! But, perhaps, they are happy to be employed?


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In hyderabad (especially), the sine qua non is to popularize one "neutral" god or god man and celebrate him to the point of saturation. The last time I came, Shirdi Sai Baba was in vogue, this time it is Buddha. Don't get me wrong. I am not trivializing genuine devotion one feels towards spiritual powers. I am only harboring my reservation on the intention behind this craze. My suspicion is that there is some other unsavory explanation for why a sea of Buddhas has emerged everywhere all of a sudden. Could it be a sign of impudence? For instance, why was Buddha standing at the hotel entrance holding his crystal frock and flaunting it to welcome his guests? Isn't it as outrageous as drawing Mohammed? He is supposed to have renounced worldly desires in search of enlightenment!

Last week I went to Boston to visit family and savored the joys of idleness.

This week, I am back home and look forward to mom's short visit to DC.

She's here for three days, so I know we will get along mighty fine. :)

The week with mom in Boston was surprisingly blissful.

I think she gets that I am a wondrous procrastinator :) (finally!)

and we have both been quite preoccupied getting acquainted with my brother's babies.

They are such a joy. :)

It was also one of those rare times when we were together without our other halves

Mom--no Dad, Anand--no Miru and me--No Tapi

It was like old times. (At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, it was awesome!)

Every time I visit my brother in Boston, it feels like I'm returning home on vacation.

Will India feel that way as well?

I am alarmed at the celebration over Kasab's death sentence. It's the kind of perversion that I can't wrap my head around. Somehow the line between retribution and revenge has become nonexistent. How can one immoral act be the answer to another immoral act? How can two wrongs make a right?

How are we bringing balance of good over evil if we are proclaiming that a person should be hung to death? Where is our good that we take so much pride in when we make flippant statements like "Kasab should be stoned to death or chopped to pieces"?

Would the good in you personally do it? Would you hold the stone or a knife and do it yourself, or is murder a casual thought you entertain in your mind because it is done behind closed doors by someone else pretending to uphold justice?

I am upset beyond belief and objectivity. There is something to learn from Europe for abolishing capital punishment. Somehow they seem to have managed to cross over to the good side of humanity, while we are still stuck in this barbaric parallel world with no respect for life. Clearly ours is a lesser society! And it will remain so as long as we continue to do wrong under this cloak of upholding justice.

We'll only keep quoting Gandhi's teachings of nonviolence for effect and pretend to take pride in his ideals, when in fact we have little respect for them. His statements are all bogus words of idealism to us that have no real bearing in this rational world where violence is more realistic than peace.

So then, let's be honest and get rid of everything Gandhi said. Let us pick all his quotes on nonviolence and destroy them once and for all... here's a start! 

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

"I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent."

“The most heinous and the most cruel crimes of which history has record have been committed under the cover of religion or equally noble motives”

"What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?"

"It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence."

"Victory attained by violence is tantamount to a defeat, for it is momentary."

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

“Nonviolence is a weapon of the strong”

"You must be the change you want to see in the world" 

(To the supporters of Kasab's death sentence: I hope you are not the change I want to see in this world!

I find myself eating a lot of ice cream every time I think about money. It makes my stomach bloat from the lactose and exacerbates my asthma. Given the little money I have, it actually makes sense to either spend it all without worrying about my future OR squirrel away my savings under a tree and forget about it until I have become really old. Why must I put myself through this futile, soul-destroying obsession with accumulating mass (both weight-wise and wealth-wise)?

Today I was looking at some ancient coins from around the world with beautiful images of kings and celestial beings, royal emblems and cyphers, nature and art... all chiseled intricately in every kind of metal and in every possible shape. There is so much to appreciate in old money. The coins alone were designed to give pleasure through beauty, a concept I hope is true for today as well, although it is only in nostalgia that we sometimes appreciate beauty.

For instance, I think of India's early decimal coins (post-independence) that I used to find lying around in some drawers at home - the flower-shaped 2 and 10 paise, the square shaped 5 paisa, the hexagon shaped 3 and 20 paise, the round 25 and 50 paise... there was a variety in metal (bronze, copper, aluminum and nickel) that I don't think exists today. It is probably all ferratic stainless steel now. But when the steel coins were introduced, I remember being so beguiled by their smooth, shiny surface that I eagerly got rid of the old coins whenever I could to exchange them for shiny steel ones. Even now, I find new coins beguiling... I save dollar coins every time I get them, because they are so rare (I don't understand why!)... but I miss the variety in the old coins. Now I realize that all those old coins I took no notice of had stories to tell that I am only learning about now, after their disappearance.

I don't mean to go off on a tangent... but what the heck! I can speak of currency notes, can't I? It's not entirely off topic. :)

I remember the animals on Indian currency notes: the tiger, the rhinoceros and the elephant, all three of which I can't help but notice have dwindled to a few thousand in population today. I wonder if we will look back at the notes with these animals in the future and speak of them in a mythical way... Will we speak of them in the same way we do the coins of the old times with kings and celestial beings, royal emblems and cyphers, nature and art?

Suddenly money is looking more meaningful to me.

I read some very interesting stories on how money have been used over the years and how it has changed over time. I quite enjoyed the legendary stories around currency. It was compelling to see how it changed the course of history from time to time and easily created and destroyed empires and nations. There were also some fascinating articles on money in fictional works like books and movies. It was interesting to see how fiction borrows from reality, but also to see how it manages to be very different from all modern, and historic currency as well. In a way, fiction is exploring money in ways we haven't considered with much seriousness in real life.

By the time I came to our nonfictional present, the money world got very complex. For one thing, it is oftentimes not in a tangible form. Some of it went over my head, especially where it spoke of how money is organized today (I clearly live in some storybook world seeing as I find the past and the fictional world more relatable). I figured however, that the sheer complexity of today's financial markets, of currency management, exchange rates, financial infrastructures, foreign investments are overwhelming, but also fascinating. It is a beautiful world we live in where money flows in simple and complex ways almost artfully. I can imagine a whole orchestrated dance with several contrasting movements and prominent themes, competing for space and attention, while playing almost harmoniously... there are parts you can only perceive but can't see, so it can be as abstract as art... There are of course the discordant bits, but I think they only make it more real. (Art can also be discordant, can't it?)

Now I am ending my day with thoughts on how I would like to see myself... A money hoarder (of the realistic world with an eye on the future) or a coin collector (absorbed in a more abstract world with an eye on the past). The latter seems to be more promising of acquiring mass in a less soul-destroying way. Moreover, numismatics (currency collection) sounds so much more cooler than saving or investing.

Help me understand this: My ipad doesnt work with my laptop that has Mac OS 10.4.x, but it does on Tapi's Windows machine!

Why is Apple being nicer to competition than it is to loyal fans?

iPad requires me to upgrade to Snow Leopard (10.6.x), which I have been resisting for a while now, even though I've heard great things about it. I find having to kill the tiger for the snow leopard very unsettling. I guess they are both endangered animals, but should I really kill one to embrace the other?

It is one of those a'gnaw'ying "what do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant" scenarios that I would much rather not deal with.

What is Apple doing naming its operating systems after endangered animals anyway? It is so traumatic being pricked with these reminders of our cold-blooded attitude towards nature every time they come up with some alluring new product that you can't resist... Do we really need to be pricked? Let me say it again... Do we, the more stereotypically morally-conscious (at least superficially), influen"sentient" fans, really need to be pricked?

Thankfully, I haven't yet felt the need to connect the ipad to a computer. I can check emails, read books, listen to music, watch movies, download apps, and do everything that an ipad will possibly let me do. The only thing I can't do is move my media from my comp to the ipad, which doesn't bother me (yet).

So I guess I will just postpone resolving this moral dilemma!

ps: By the way, the ipad is so awesome! I don't think I've been this enamored with any device in my life before. I highly recommend it, with or without the snow leopard! ... Of course, you can do the "smart thing" and wait till the prices drop and all the kinks are worked out! Bleh! ;)

There is a good chance Tapi won't read this post, so I will take it and quickly sneak in a post to narrate today's incident. :)

Finding an Indian concert in Strathmore Hall is a bit like catching gold dust. When you hear of one, you really have to jump at the chance and run to it. So we headed to the Tirtha concert and speculated all the way how crowded it would be. Hard to say! The usual crowd we see in Strathmore are middle-aged-to-old white Americans, who I don't really associate with Indian fusion jazz music (although nothing about this country surprises me anymore!)... but we expected to see a fair number of Indians.

Strathmore is just a few minutes away from home, so we reached fairly quickly and parked the car in a more-or-less empty parking lot. Just as we got out of it, we saw an old couple walking past us looking visibly disappointed. We overheard the lady whine in telugu to her husband that they should have come a bit sooner, because the tickets were sold out. Sold out? Really? We were both quite surprised. We've been to R. Prasanna's concerts before and they were never sold out, even when he managed to attract a large audience!

As I was building up curiosity on who these people were, I turned back and saw Tapi jumping over a hedge, running down the stairs and vanishing into the parking lot. So then I walked the same route (albeit less hurriedly) and found him talking to the old couple in the distance.

By the time I reached there, the couple and Tapi were like a mini-andhra family and I said "namaskaram" and they said "namaskaram" and asked us if we were sure we wanted to forego the tickets. To which, Tapi responded in his usual adorable style (hand-folded sincerity, indian head-nod and all) "No no. You have to see it. I guarantee you will love it. We've seen R. Prasanna play before... he's pretty cool. Those guys will put on quite a show... (long pause)... their ensemble is impressive... the piano dude especially is the shit." ... the old woman looked baffled but she managed a smile after a bit... and then the couple left looking quite happy at the end of it.

Then Tapi said "It's funny how they looked suspicious at first. The lady was skeptical about taking the tickets and the man insisted on paying for them"

So I told him, I would have wet my pants if I saw a 6 foot tall man vault over a hedge and stretch out his hand to offer free tickets while heaving and panting for breath. It's a rare kind of enthusiastic generosity that could be mistaken for suspicious behavior! :)

But, isn't Tapi just wonderful? He's the sweetest guy ever! :)

Well anyway... as we were driving back home quite peacefully, he suddenly took a sharp U and started driving in the opposite direction. He then picked out some comic books for me from Barnes and Noble... cos it dawned on him that the tickets he gave away were a birthday gift to me :)

Now we are home listening to some good music and I am off to sit next to him and read my new comics...

Looking back at the last five years, the two things that have been consistent is how perfectly my age catches up with my waist size and how change has been the only constant!

Last year, I quit my job to pursue an entrepreneurial dream, worked on some interesting educational projects, went on a few vacations, survived some freak accidents, missed my husband sorely, but things haven't been entirely unpredictable... Everything I did, including choosing a risky career path, were conscious decisions! There have been times when I have forgotten that. I have been so caught up in this raw change and with questioning my dubious choices that I haven't relished the good times that have been staring at me. I have spent many days just thinking about how inadequate I am, and how alone I am in this inadequacy. There is always this wonder and amazement and how well everyone else seems to be doing, and how much more commendable their life choices are.

I have been telling myself that by 30 I want to be where I can look back at my life with some sense of self-worth, so that I can look forward to a more contented future. But, that would make 29 the cheerless gateway to an equally unknown decade. So perhaps, this year will be better spent regaining some spunk and clarity, and doing the right things with confidence?

Now I'm off on my awesome dinner date with my most favorite person in the whole entire universe!

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I always do a gifts list cos I get the coolest gifts ever. :)

This year, I got:

The Taste of Tea DVD, 
Snap Circuits, 
6-in-1 solar robot kit (wrapped in this really cool paper with a little dog stuck on top of it), 
An ipad, 
A wireless keyboard, 
Tickets to The Blue Mug play, 
Tickets to Vijay Iyer's Tirtha concert (with R.Prasanna and Nitin Mitta), 
A few inches in my new TV :)
A pretty salwar with matching necklace and earrings, 
Two beautitful vases (to paint on)
Some pretty handmade earrings,
An amazing pencil sketch of me,
Tons and tons of birthday wishes - some very endearing emails, birthday songs, some old photographs,  
Lunches, dinners,
Some IOUs

For many years, it was a struggle finding a bed to sleep on in my house. Every night, I would have to look around to see if there was an unoccupied bed in one of the rooms that I could sleep on. Sometimes, it would help that I slept off while watching TV in the living room, and then my dad, or older brother, or one of the uncles would lift me and drop me on some bed. The next morning I would get reprimanded for putting them through the agony. It never really occurred to me to complain that I had no permanent bed to sleep on. It was almost an absurd thing for me to ask for... like a kid demanding his own car. For one thing, I didn't see my brother or cousins demanding a bed. I didn't know how they dealt with it (I still don't). It seemed like a thing to figure out on your own and I clearly wasn't smart enough. So, I was both sheepish about this ploy of mine where I acted like I fell asleep while watching TV, and at the same time proud of outsmarting them.

For a few months I used to sleep in my grandfather's room, except for the few days that his brother, or some other relative visited us!

If I was tired of looking for a room, I would knock on my parents' door in the middle of the night and ask if I could sleep next to them. Mom always thought it was because I wanted to snuggle with her, and would choke up with motherly affection. When mom's maternal instincts kick in, she can give the melodramatic soaps a run for their money! But soon the halo of maternal love would fade and give way to her whining about this becoming a routine. Dad would then arrange for a place for me to sleep and all balance would be restored! (at least for a few days until I was forced to go back to my nomadic existence and this cycle would repeat itself again and again)

Then came the festivals and functions. You would think having a house full of guests would make my life hell. But, working out where I would sleep was the easiest during this time. Come night, when it was time to go to bed after all the festivities, the living rooms and studies (yes, we had multiple studies and also many empty, unused rooms) would be transformed into sleeping areas, with dharis (quilts) spread out all over the floor to accommodate everyone. All I had to do was settle on one of them and that was that! Imagine my excitement when suddenly I was indulged with choice! Usually all the kids were accommodated in one room, and we would stay up all night, talking and playing until we were so tired that we fell asleep clueless about how or where we were sleeping.

All this was new and exciting to my visiting cousins, but to me, it was an everyday affair! The excitement for me was in that both entertainment and accommodation were getting resolved at the same time!

During summers, a lot of us would sleep in the "triangle room", which was the main living room that opened to an indoor courtyard! All the bedrooms had air-coolers, but we were still too young to enjoy the privilege... so "triangle" was where we slept. Hyderabad winters are quite hot. In the month of May and June, the temperature rises up to 44 degrees. But, the nights would occasionally get breezy, and it would sometimes rain in the courtyard and the room would smell of earth. This was my most favorite part.

Then one day, my uncle and aunt who were in the room next to my parents' room moved to their own apartment! I then jumped at this opportunity and bawled to my mom that I wanted a bedroom like every other normal kid in the world. I finally thought I was old enough to demand it! (I was about 13 or 14)

She thought it was a fair demand, and was quite surprised that I didn't express this desire earlier... dad on the other hand thought it was "highly unnecessary". Bedrooms were considered something of an extravagance and he didn't want to spoil us with it. But, finally, mom petitioned for the room to my grandparents who halfheartedly agreed, and it was the greatest day of my life!

I have to clarify here, that in a joint family like ours, we constantly had guests coming and going, who would sometimes stay for weeks or months with or without notice. And it was therefore necessary that we always had furnished and unoccupied bedrooms to accommodate them whenever they wanted to stay over. Bedrooms therefore were a luxury! I can appreciate that better today than I did as a teenage kid craving my own space.

But I finally got my bedroom and was to share it with my two brothers who were as thrilled about it as I was. My younger brother especially was ecstatic. I still remember that sweet toothy smile he had plastered on his face for days. We first ran to Synthesis library next door and picked up two posters - a huge one of Shahrukh Khan, another small one of Aamir Khan, and some stuff toys. My younger brother also bought some stickers of Yokozuna, Hulk Hogan, Undertaker and a few race cars. We then went with mom to the fabrics store to pick curtains and bedsheets. We got flashy mickey mouse curtains for the doors and windows, and I picked a bedsheet with lots of cartoon characters for my bed. My younger brother picked a batman bedsheet for his bed. By the time we came home, there were three old, rickety cots, each of a different dimension arranged in a row in the bedroom. On them there were three really dusty mattresses, each of a different thickness! With the help of the servant, we got off as much dust as we could and got on with decorating the room. Our decoration sense was less governed by aesthetic and more by the stereotypes of what we dreamed "kids bedrooms" were like. So we tried to incorporate as many of the cliched styles as we possibly could! Who knows how long this bedroom extravaganza would last!

My older brother eventually moved to his own bedroom. In fact, it was an outhouse bachelor-pad with two rooms, a courtyard and a terrace, a separate entrance from everyone else, and also a makeshift-study in a small area behind the staircase that could fit his study table and a book shelf. I think he was the only person in the house to whom it occurred that the empty rooms could actually be occupied! To everyone else, it seemed like sacrilege to break this tradition of letting the empty rooms remain empty! Why did I have to wait for my uncle and aunt to leave to claim my space?

Still, now I was lucky that my bedroom was the biggest one in the house! It was also next to two huge verandahs on two sides of the room. One verandah was right above the "triangle" room downstairs where we slept in summer. It was used by the kids to play and the dhobis (washermen) to dry clothes, and another verandah was the same size as my room, which was used by the kids to play and the dhobis to iron everyone's clothes! So the kids and the dhobis had to constantly pass through my room to go from one verandah to another. There was a third door on the third wall of the room that led to the bathroom, where the dhobi washed the clothes! Privacy was an alien concept. There were dhobis, plumbers, mechanics, maid servants walking in and out of my room from every door and every verandah all the time. The fourth wall had a door that connected my room to my parent's room. This was the only one that was locked all the time, and I insisted on keeping it locked because I wanted....... you won't believe the word...... privacy! Right outside my room, two feet from this locked door, was another door into my parents room.... always wide open. So really, the locked door inside my room was only a symbolic gesture that I wanted them to keep out! (the symbolic gesture never worked, but this was a time in my life when I was brimming with optimism. Didn't I earn bedroom rights?)

I didn't know the word privacy until I moved to the US. Life here is unbelievably private and I love every bit of it! With mom's help, I planted a few flowering plants and maintained a little garden in the second verandah. My uncle also gave me a passion fruit tree that I tried to grow rather unsuccessfully. Part of the problem was that I had to battle with the monkeys that visited that verandah every evening and broke my pots! Monkeys also frequently entered my room and messed with things. Would you believe me if I said, "the monkey ate my homework" was a valid excuse in my case? To add to this, at one point mom also bred some rabbits in that verandah for her school. They were white rabbits with bright red eyes and looked adorable. But, rabbits are also smelly and multiply very quickly. It became a nuisance having them around. But, I couldn't complain.

Over the years, our bedroom acquired a small tape recorder, a 17" color TV, a large aquarium with over 15 fishes (my younger brother was crazy about fishes)... a huge wooden study table (dad's gift to me), a huge ugly book shelf with pick decolam, an old dressing table, four wooden and steel almirahs (that I hated but had to live with... although until I had a bedroom I had no closet for my clothes and had to make do with a shelf in my dad's closet...so it was a privilege that I could have appreciated, but didn't!) Life was blissful!

Eventually the novelty of having my own bedroom wore off. I also missed my nomadic adventures. Then one day, my aunt had a really bad accident. And being the workaholic that she is, she needed help with typing her reports into a word document on the computer every night! At that time, I was also addicted to the internet and thought it was a perfect arrangement that I could use the computer for my pleasure, help her out with her work, and sleep in the bedroom next to her. I did this for over a year, and found myself becoming more and more interested in her work. My aunt is a huge influence in my life, and in some ways more so than I let on. It was the last room I was to sleep in before I moved out of the house! (Incidentally, the room was called "question mark room" because of its unique shape... and it really settled the question of where I slept in that house)

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My brother read this post and said "We were like atoms...we rested where we landed and bounced off to some new place the next day". :) His stories of sleeping on loveseats and other nooks and corners of the house are in some ways even more dramatic than mine. But, as he read my post, he had a good laugh because it reminded him of my sleepwalking stories! I was a riot.

It is no big secret that Math and I are as far removed from each other as night is from day! But today, I was looking at my tripod lamp and wondering if I remember anything at all from my trigonometry class in high school. You can imagine my utter delight when I remembered:

Law of Sine

a / sin A = b / sin B = c / sin C

Law of Cosine

c2 = a2 + b2 – 2ab Cos C

Law of Tangents

(a – b) / (a + b) = tan [1/2 (A – B) ] / tan [1/2 (A + B) ]

I can't wait for Tapi and Anand to see this post! (Do you think they will be impressed?)

Did you know that the Anagram for Relationships is "Phoniest Liars"? And we wonder why relationships are so troubling! :)

First a disclaimer: Seeing as most astute people in the world give relationship advice only if they can rake in profit (self-help books?), you will have to credit me for being less opportunistic! I am not trading my relationship-wisdom for your "rainy day" money! I am giving it away for free. Also, there's a chance you might think I am being very boastful, but don't judge me too badly for it. Afterall, boastfulness may be a disreputable virtue, but it is not the antithesis of truthfulness. So I request you to focus on the truthfulness of this post, while I focus on the boastfulness (and being disreputable!). :)

I was telling a friend that had I not been married to Tapi, I would have been disqualified from all matrimonial websites by the uncles and aunties of the world! (also, as someone rightly pointed out, even being married to Tapi disqualifies me from matrimonial websites). They would have written me off as a disaster and ostracized me for maligning their morally pure online space!

Every marriageable man and woman listed on these matrimonial sites are an epitome of beauty, comeliness and perfect-morality! They seem to have no flaws!

I on the other hand am short-ish, dark (in matrimonial terms: "not entirely white-ish and somewhat wheatish" complexioned) (!), chubby-ish, not much to look at, casteless (with no tradition of arranged marriages in three generations on both sides of my family... except rarely and that too disastrously...), in an unconventional line of work (also currently without job!), easily attracted to men (the more the merrier), need constant entertainment (whether with spouse or otherwise), borderline alcoholic (to brahmin standards), not religious (except second-handedly... erm.. i mean, i maintain some high-level curiosity), don't cook (note: i didn't say can't cook), prone to hiding my favorite food, love to hate family, don't (yet) care about having kids, and in the rare occasion that I do have some unquestionable values they are unconventional and one doesn't know what to make of them... I am opinionated, judgmental and argumentative.

But, somehow, seeing as I have been in a long term relationship for over 10 years with one very admirable man, I can take credit for excelling at this committment-thing like nobody's business! (TAKE THAT you judgmental uncles and aunties! Slap!) :) I can challenge most people that my marital life is more honest, peaceful and exciting than theirs! Tapi and I quite enjoy our questionable lives together (although his life is much less questionable than mine) and are madly in love with each other! I can't remember the last time we had a fight. I get jittery if I don't hear from him for two hours when he's at work. I rarely take a vacation without him, and when I do, I drive people nuts with my sulking and whining until we are back in our intertwined hug like Richandamy in Zits. My family thinks this obsession we have for each other is borderline unhealthy... and we might come to regret it one day, since we make no time for social life. But so far, so good! (Social life doesn't seem to miss us either!)

Here is what I think about most 'rocky' marriages (please forgive my generalizations. Today I am celebrating Blanket Statements Day.... which happens to coincide with Prabha is the Greatest and the Best Day)

I think it is very petty why most people get married or divorced! And this I think is true not just for arranged marriages. It maybe true for every kind of relationship that ends up in a marriage. When you get into a relationship it is because of a long laundry-list of qualities you like about a person, and when you get out of a relationship it is with a long laundry-list of complaints about the person... Finding a spouse seems to be no different from finding a roommate or buying a hair product! Then there are these "surprises about" and "disappointments with" each other that keep us amused or frazzled. Everyday is like an episode out of a soap opera. You feel like you have to have a say is what this other person IS... you comment on their values and choices as if you have earned your right to do so. (I so despise the nagging-variety couples... especially when they nag the hell out of each other in public and think it is funny, or acceptable! It is disrespectful beyond words... not just to each other, but to everyone they put it through)

I constantly keep hearing words like compatibility, adjustment, compromises, sacrifices, expectations and rights when people define marriages. In fact, these words seem more synonymous with marriages nowadays than they were a generation ago! (Am I wrong?) Is this all people think marriages are about? (Come to think of it, my single friends impart this wisdom about "adjustments" more than my married friends do!... ok... some of my newly married friends do as well...This I think is ironic. How can people (want to) get into a relationship feeling THIS pessimistic about it? If it makes them feel better, I'll say, I don't find happily married people using these words to describe their relationships! Also the "not-married-but-madly-in-love"-varieties can't be bothered about defining their relationships... which is lovely and refreshing to see! They look so smitten and adorable.)

In fact, getting married is not "life changing" at all... sorry to disappoint. It is really nothing! While change has been the constant in my life, change because of marriage remains an elusive concept! (Likewise, Tapi may be losing hair, but I have little to do with it! I can only take credit for his good looks.... they say when two people live together for a long time, they start resembling each other ... If you don't agree with me, wait till I lose hair!)

If physical attributes or a person's interests or character are the only things that attract us to them... then seeing as these are not permanent attributes, and that we could also be wrong in our judgment of them, it makes more sense to get into such a relationship in a non-commited way than in a committed way! If you suddenly find yourself less attracted to a person... isn't it more convenient to get out of that relationship without having to make rounds to the court than otherwise? There has to me more to a marriage than physical and intellectual attraction! There has to be that whatchamacallit that will never cease to exist! There has to be that whatchamacallit that continues to exist even after the novelty of the physical and intellectual attraction wears off. And that whatchamacallit can't be something you can define in words!

I am also quite certain that it is near impossible to adjust, compromise and cater to the expectations of a person in the long-term... At some point it is bound to boomerang and all hell will break loose.

Committed relationships are more about being and letting be. It is about two people ungrudgingly letting each other make selfish choices and taking pleasure in seeing them feel blissful and contended. It is the most deferential and considerate thing you can do for your loved ones (also applicable to other family members and friends!) :) I think it helps to focus less on what we like about our loved ones and more on that we love them!

Moreover, divorce is the worst thing that can happen to good people (when I say good people, I mean those who otherwise don't deserve to go through that kind of hurt)! It is disrespectful, condescending and speaks very little about your own morality! ... how can you marry someone and then not find anything nice about them to like, to the extent that you don't want to see them for the rest of your life! If divorce makes you happier, you have to question your motive for marrying this person in the first place. Like I said, this is more understandable in a non-commited relationship than in a committed relationship (I'll even say, the break up in a non-committed relationship is less disrespectful even)... And why must we like or not like people that badly, especially if we don't find them morally reprehensible?

I don't know if I have this relationship thing figured out. So this is just a thought that I am going to consider... and I am going to consider this for my other relationships as well. The world is so full of attractive people. I think we ought to work on creating meaningful, committed and non-committed ties of many different kinds with everyone... :) (Ok. Stalkers. Keep out!)

(By the way my blanket statements don't apply to unequal relationships dictated by chauvinism, or the kind of arranged marriages where two people are forced to come together whether they want to or not. In these, the rabbit warren is more convoluted and confusing. I won't know how to find my way from one burrow to another. I am safe for having not entered it!)

Final disclaimer: This post is full of generalizations. As I read it I can see some erroneous statements. But, in my defense, I also scattered disclaimers all through the post, and also couldn't have explained myself anymore, seeing as it is already so long!

Art and I are as apart from each other as the Everest's summit is from its base. But, as long as we are on the same mountain, there is the hope that I can climb to the top of it at some point, or at least look up and appreciate the daunting wonder that is the Everest (art)! :) But, lately I have been looking up and seeing a summit polluted with cruddy, mannerless men. It is upsetting beyond the boundaries of what is reasonable!

Let me share some perplexing news stories that I came across over the last few days.

In Maria Abramovic's "otherwise" celebrated exhibition in MoMA, her eight new performers who were standing on display were poked, prodded and groped by visitors until they had to be thrown out of the museum. What is such a disreputable lot (and I speak of the visitors, not the art-people) doing in an art museum anyway? I wonder if this is all we have to write about the "21st century art-loving neanderthals" in our history textbooks of the future: Will this be described as the era where the art-viewing experience of adults involved "touch-and-feel", as did their book-reading experience as kids? (On a slightly-unrelated side note: I love the children's touch-and-feel books. I find them fascinating even now. My first one as a kid was a book called the "Egg in a Hole". In it, Henny runs around the farm looking for her lost egg and meets lots of farm animals on the way. It was the book I read almost everyday for a whole year. Back then, I used to think of it as a work of art, although today there are tons of other sophisticated touch-and-feel books that are far more engaging and innovative. Which brings me to my point: Is there an expiry date on art? Do some kinds of art cease to be considered art once they have been improved on?)

In another news, The Bloomberg administration wants to shrink the art space in New York, because there are way too many art vendors crowding parks and streets, and making it difficult for pedestrians to walk, especially on the sidewalks! I can see why this poses problems from a pure logistics point of view. But, shouldn't we be looking for alternative avenues for these artists to express themselves and sell their works? There is no talk of requital... only wreck-quital! What does it say about us that we are struggling to find space for artists to make a living in the open? It raises a lot of existential questions that I don't even know how to begin to ask!

There is also news that NYPD is peeved with the complaints it is receiving from people about statues on top of buildings that look like real people who are about to jump down! This, I think is a valid concern! As it is, tall buildings apart from mountain cliffs and monuments attract a lot of self-destructive people. (Disclaimer: I am only being sarcastic... don't mean to me insensitive) But, in anycase, I also have to wonder what the public can do if a person is about to jump down from a building. The thought alone scares the living daylights out of me. Should these First Aid manuals also teach us how to respond to suicidal situations? What I am really surprised about is that the police haven't received any calls from people worried that the statues (easily weighing more than 100 humans) might fall on their heads! To me, that seems more probable. What is even more interesting is that London had a similar statue-project going on all over their city three years ago and it didn't attract the paranoia that threatens to overwhelm the NYPD now.

Then there was Robert Ebert's declaration that video games can never be art. Even though I disagree with him, I am not eager to defend video games either. I think the discussion itself is rather silly... and like someone else said, the counter argument is turning out to be like a 26-year-old trying to convince his parents that he's a grown-up. But, I am disappointed that someone the likes of Ebert would get into petty two-dimensional (no pun intended) arguments about art! As much as I enjoy his film reviews and think highly of his style of critiquing, he isn't really an authority on art!

Ok. This next piece of news is not entirely bad. In fact, it may be good in some ways. Museums around the world are raiding their own closets to find artwork to display, so that they can cut down on their costly "art exhibition" budgets during this challenging economic time! The Metropolitan Museum of Art pulled out some rare Picassos from their vault. The fact that museums display less than 10% of the artwork in their collection at any given time is alone something to think about.... then the fact that they are hoarding art by artists the likes of Picasso for a rare "economic apocalypse" is beyond anything I had imagined.

There is another intriguing article about street photography becoming "a contested sphere in which all our collective anxieties converge: terrorism , paedophilia, intrusion, surveillance". I remember a discussion I had very recently with someone about the "right to privacy" on the streets. People-watching is for the most part an accepted hobby. We like haunting places where there are lots of people; we enjoy concertedly observing everyone as they go about their lives, while at the same time being aware that we too are being observed just as much. I won't say we are all entirely oblivious to our roles in this experience as "watchers and watchees". It is hardly the uninvolved, second-hand pleasure that we pretend it to be. We dress well and present ourselves as befits the place and the occasion and we conduct ourselves with some consideration for where we are. Point is, we all know that "observing" and "being observed" are part of the deal (even if openly gawking at people is considered disrespectful... Indians notwithstanding)... but there is still the illusion of placidly going about our lives as if the world around us exists only superficially (as "ambience"), and the only thing we care about is that thing we came to that place for (shopping at the mall, enjoying a concert, eating at a restaurant etc). But, the minute you pull out your camera and take a picture of these very same people you have been gawking at, you are invading their privacy! It is to say, you can take pleasure in their presence all you want (openly or clandestinely), but can't capture a fraction of a second of their lives that represents the slightest of everything you have entertained yourself with of them! The ethics of people-watching are grey while pretending to be black and white! I find that objectionable! I also find it thought-provoking how this is the rare case where sly covert operations are considered more respectable than direct, honest-to-goodness appreciation.

Although this post is about bad or borderline-questionable news regarding art, I can't help but share some good news. The New South Wales Government announced recently that people charged with child pornography offenses will no longer be able to claim the "artistic merit defense". Previously, this was a grey area, and criminal law had to consult art experts to clarify if some artwork portraying children should be considered art or child abuse (that it should be either-or is debatable, but I am happy this issue is being addressed). Having said that, I think about old mythological paintings and sculptures of nude children and wonder if they will be held to the same standard and be banned as well! (Fair to ask?)

Have you ever wondered why only a few art collectors in the world end up with lots of really good artwork? Of course, the obvious reason is they have the means to pay for them, but beyond that, how do they get to those pieces before other people who can afford them do? In the art market, oftentimes art pieces get sold only to a select group of buyers even though there might be people willing to pay more for them! This exclusivity of the art world, the unspoken rules of trade, the competitive nature of bidding (even in these hard economic times), and the ethical questions it raises is something to think about. The art world can be really murky... especially since we all think of art with a certain purity of emotion! But, which world that sells products worth millions of dollars is not murky?

Since ACs and I don't get along, Mom wanted a portable fan -- the standard oscillating pedestal kind with circular blades enclosed behind a steel grill. I can't bear the thought of that "homely" fan sitting in my living room. I can deal with a small, quiet, aesthetically pleasing tower fan maybe. -- like this one or this one. But, the monstrous, space-hogging ugliness she wants I just can't do!

To my utter delight, the tower fans have better reviews than the standard pedestal fans. They come with multiple speed settings, a remote control, dust/pollen filter, and an automatic shut-off feature. More than anything, they are lightweight, and less prominent!

Of course, I show this work of art to mom for approval and she views it with apprehension. What she wants is a fan that will blow air like a wind tunnel. She is used to having the ceiling fan on full blast even in winter, and is addicted to that breezy feeling with the air circulating all the time. For that purpose, the pedestal fan is a tested and proven contraption that has serviced mankind for generations! I call it the "thatha fan" (not that my granddad ever used it! It also occurs to me that our house never had one in all the years that I have lived there... but thatha fan it is, because it is time-honored)

Anyway, the phone conversation with mom was getting frustrating. For one thing, I wanted her to see beyond my predilection for aesthetic over comfort. I wanted her to acknowledge that the tower fan was more practical and sensible from every point of view. Just take the fact that we will use it for 10 days in a year when mom is here and won't know where to store it after she leaves. No matter what I said, and how I said it, she insisted that all I care about is the aesthetic! I lamented that reasoning with her was no different from reasoning with a blind man about color or a deaf man about sound! "I don't care about color or sound, give me breeze", she said!

Then, I wanted her to see that bigger is not always better and "small and sleek" does not mean "less powerful". I went on an analogy rampage: Gramophone vs. ipod, Air Cooler vs. Air Conditioner, Tube TV vs. Flatscreen, Grandfather clock vs. small digital clock... Much to my annoyance, my analogies had the opposite effect on her. Mom went off on a nostalgic excursion. I don't blame her. I could see myself buying into her nostalgia and craving the Gramophone, the Air Cooler, the Tube TV, and the Grandfather clock as well. :) But Screw nostalgia. I was not going to give in so easily!

Much to my disadvantage (and hers, I insist), Mom is stuck in her old world of tubelights and tape recorders and continues to adamantly disregard the awesomeness that is the 21st century... :)

So I finally screamed:

"Mom. Tower fan is all you are getting, period. It comes with three settings... Setting 1: Balmy October Night in Hyderabad; Setting 2: Blustery Evening in Besant Nagar Beach; Setting 3: Netherlands Wind Turbine. Setting 1: Underwear; Setting 2: Shorts; Setting 3. Sweatpants!"

"Fine. Wind Turbine Explosion in Sweatpants sounds good", she said.

Why do I feel like she won?

In the mean time, Tapi had a fun time representing our argument in paint!

(That's my cousin's name and this is his list)

Another One Bites The Dust – Queen
Woman From Tokyo – Deep Purple
Hurricane Drunk – Florence + The Machine
Dog Days Are Over – Florence + The Machine
Rang De Basanti – Rang De Basanti
Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) – Arcade Fire
All Along the Watchtower – Bear McCreary
Hey There Delilah – Plain White T's
New Year's Resolution – The Limousines
Pure Imagination – The Hit Crew
We Looked Like Giants – Death Cab for Cutie
My Brain Is Hanging Upside Down (Bonzo Goes to Bitburg) – The Ramones
When She Loved Me – Jordan Pruitt
With or Without You – The Joshua Tree
Paradise City – Guns N' Roses
Fields of Athenry – Dropkick Murphys
Young Lust – Pink Floyd
City Of Blinding Lights – U2

(From now on I am including descriptions of these pictures: Among the gifts I get abundantly, coffee mugs are the hardest to get rid off. One because they have profound messages on them or¸ words of endearment... Two, I consume a lot of hot drinks! But, I find that the more mugs I have out, the more they fill up the sink and and the more dishes I have to wash. :) So this art marks the end of some of my favorite coffee mugs. The one with the big leaves was the hardest to get rid of.)

Sometimes I wish I could just scroll down to the next page of the news story I am reading by blinking my eye, rather than using my hand to click a button. :)

The picture below, I am told is my Expression of the Year! It is not my most flattering picture but it has "internet addict" written all over it. I know I look like I am reading something that's giving me a headache, but I am actually enjoying a write-up on Francis Bacon's art.



Last year, I transitioned to using the net more to consume entertainment than to make social conversation... which means I don't quite need both hands on the keyboard! Perhaps, we all made that transition. Are you not consuming more news now than you did before?

But what has all this information overload done for us?

Last year's news stories should be relatively easy to sort out. Before I started this post, I quickly did a rundown of the US news I followed, and found an infographic that agreed with me. I am sure there are better lists out there, but this highly general graphic uses terms like "Obama Administration" to speak of everything from stimulus spending to healthcare reform to Obama's family getting a dog or him winning the peace prize :) So it is unlikely that it does not include anything of importance... and is perfect for superficial musing.

For instance, I was thinking about what a similar graphic on India-specific news stories of 2009 would include: The Indian general elections, the telangana issue, YSR's death, Satyam scam, followed by Tech Mahindra's acquisition of Satyam, the Liberhan report leak, dispute between the Ambani brothers over the pricing of natural gas, the Yeddy-Reddy(brothers) battle in Karnataka and allegations of illegal mining, India's inflation dipping below zero, the the rape charge against Shiney Ahuja, the sex scandal involving ND Tiwari, the land-grabbing allegation on PD Dinakaran, public criticism of Mayawati's statue mania, Pankaj Advani winning the World Billiard's Championship... there is also news related to terrorism... the maoism insurgency...!

Then there are other world news stories whose omission from the infographic is perplexing: The copenhagen summit, the debt crisis in dubai, the ethnic conflict in Xinjiang between the muslims and Hans, the costly (not just deadly) Nigerian oil war, the beginning of LTTE's end (Prabhakaran's death), the beginning of Pakistan's onslaught against the Taliban, the Mexican govt's war against the drug cartels, the Iranian ethnic unrest, Buffett's deal with Goldman Sachs (and other interesting business deals or "no-deals" as would apply), GM and Chrysler filing for bankruptcy, Roger Federer's French open/Wimbledon win, Michael Jackson's death, Edward Kennedy's death, Ford Hood shootings, the development of the AIDS vaccine, the lifting of the ban on stem-cell research, finding water on the moon, the discovery of solar systems much like our own, the discovery of Ardi - the 4.4 million year old skeleton, the decoding of the human genome, scientists levitating a mouse, the launch of Windows 7, the launch of Nook, Steve Jobs' much anticipated comeback, Oracle's acquisition of Sun Microsystems, and MySpace losing its popularity...

I wonder if all of this news is connected somehow. Can we make sense of all of the global events using one blanket statement.... like 2009 is the Year of Crises ...

Is 2010 turning out to be the Year of Resolutions or Re-solutions?

Perhaps what is more important to address is what we gain from following news the way we do! At the expense of sounding preachy and putting people off with my blanket statement of immense wisdom :P, the one thing I gained from the elections in the US and India last year is an appreciation for liberal democratic ideals. When you see the way these elections have amassed support from millions of people, (in some ways more dramatically than in the previous years), you can't help but wonder how or where you fit into this participative process (and if you do at all!). Likewise, I am also suddenly experiencing a lack of democratic freedom! Last year, it was annoying having to follow the elections both in the US and in India and not be able to vote or take part in the process beyond a point! I suppose it is true that we learn the value of what we had only after we've lost it!
On the plus side, because I can't vote anywhere, I feel like I might as well observe and react to every democratic process world over... like the looming UK general election, which is so entertaining!

I wonder too, if I will learn the value of this information overload only when I suddenly experience the lack of information... which immediately makes me think about internet censorship in China and how the country challenges our way of thinking about freedom... progress... technology... education... among other things!

When I began this post, I didn't really want it to become a full-blown summary of the biggest news stories in 2009. I was merely trying to list out some big stories so that I can make sense of what I've been reading. I also wanted to see how news from the previous year spills into the new year, and if in fact they are as relevant today as they were before... or if we have moved on! But it ended up being expository! Pardon my idiocy :)

(While cleaning my study, I found some old gift wrap papers that I didn't have the heart to throw out. I figured if I created a collage of them, then the guilt of getting rid of them would be less painful. So that's exactly what I did! I took their pictures and layered them into this labyrinth design. If you look closely, you will see 7 papers.... for some reason the collage turned out looking very Indian, even though some of the papers had comic figures, or some very English flower designs.)

W8Y4NZGCQE3T

I love giving out health reports on my blog. (Easier than talking to mom about them on the phone). Also, I have been told my health reports are fairly entertaining... so here goes.

Today I have an appointment with the doctor about the cough I've had for over a month now. For the most part, I feel fine during the day (I cough less), but my nights are punctuated with the singing of birds and crickets in my throat (cough cough cough)... at some point in the night, I begin to croak like a frog and it becomes unbearable. At this point, Tapi (who otherwise sleeps enviably well through my bird songs) wakes up and sits there staring at me 'in concern n all'. We then walk to the living room; he makes me tea; and I cough and read a book while he waits for my throat/lungs to settle! (which it invariably does even before I get to drinking tea). Then I get carried away by the book I am reading... and while I still cough intermittently, I could care less that I am coughing (much like during the day)!

So I figured, it may not be a morning-night thing after all. It is a vertical-horizontal thing. But, then again sometimes I am horizontal and I don't cough. It is a mystery to me how it appears and disappears the way it does. It is not quite clear to me if I cough more when I am outdoors, or running! Although I do cough sometimes and have thrown up once while/after running! It is all very puzzling to me.

Lately, I cough every time I change position. Like when I go from sitting to standing, from standing to walking... when I toss and turn in my sleep, when I open the window, when I close the window. It is as if every action I take is auspiciously marked with the echo of my throat.

Last month, I had deadly headaches all through the day, my jaw would vibrate every time I closed my mouth (It also locks up), and I would feel unbearable pain in my ears with a ringing sound, followed by my nose feeling pressure and I thought I showed all the classic symptoms of some rare unidentifiable disease. Strangely enough, if I think it is some rare and unidentifiable disease, I avoid going to the doctor lest he think this is all sham and too unreal... and wolf down sudafeds and the like until the symptoms vanish! Eventually everything else subsided except this stupid unrelenting cough.

Now when I go to the doctor, I won't have the drama of last month. I don't cough as much during the day and can't recreate my night scenario. So I am going to look incredibly stupid to him! Perhaps it will help if I tell him that Tapi thinks I am allergic to him, cos the cough only happens at night!

Do you think my doctor should read my post? I am tempted to give him a list of possibilities I dug up from the net. TMJ Disorder (lock jaw n all), Cough-Variant Asthma (which I was diagnosed with last year), Sinusitis (possible?), Spring Allergy (pollen in the air n all)... I wonder what my favorite doctor cousin Sveta thinks. I'm going to forward this post to her.

---

Back from the doctor. Asthma it is. Hail WebMD, FamilyDoctor and Google :)

I was thinking of how sometimes we think of some books as changing our lives and still somehow after a few years we forget what it is in them that really influenced us!

Is it with books the same as it is with advice? Do we read books that are in line with our pre-existing beliefs while pretending to be influenced by them, just as we seek advice from those who we already know will validate our decision? Or do we really learn from what we read and become more enlightened?

For instance, I was trying to recall what I read in Albert Camus' Myth of Sisyphus eight years ago. It was the book I most talked about when I read it, and recommended it to everyone I met. I thought I had my whole life figured out as a result of it! Now, when I think back to what I liked about the book, I can barely outline Camus' philosophy on absurdity beyond the obvious themes that he touched upon. For the sake of this post, I'll be honest to my recollection of what he said. Be forewarned that this may not be what he said after all! (which is the point of this post) :)

He talks about the absurdity of human reasoning. We know that our life will eventually come to an end, and with each passing day, we are getting closer and closer to our inevitable death. But, we look forward to tomorrow (and our future) with a feeling of expectation and desire, and go on living our lives in denial, as if there is no death in the end. But, what will happen to us if we question the absurdity of human life? Why must we struggle to make a living, create societal norms, follow moral and ethical rules, go through pain and suffering, or even save for tomorrow, if it is all to end in our demise anyway? When a person attempts to find meaning in life and questions the merit of all these absurd pursuits, he either places his hope on a greater power (god) or concludes that there is no meaning to life.

To those who attempt to explain away this absurdity using the notion of God, Camus says it is a futile exercise that only encourages this denial of death even further and does not do anything to explain the absurdity. To those who accept the meaninglessness of life there is a chance that they may contemplate ending this absurdity by way of suicide. Camus explains that given that the absurdity we feel exists because of our own desire for a meaningful life and that it is inherently human to be absurd, it makes more sense to reject this desire for a meaningful life than commit suicide. (We can't all kill ourselves!)

Meaning, if we fight this feeling of false hope we have for a better tomorrow (even if it is an eternal fight), then we can unburden ourselves of wanting to live a meaningful life (because there is no such thing), free ourselves of moral and ethical norms of society (because there is no need for them) and take pleasure in the irrationality of our pursuits (because that is all there is to do)! The only things worth considering is living longest and happiest and indulging in rich and varied experiences.

In one greek myth, King Sisyphus was punished by the gods with the physically and mentally excruciating task of repeatedly rolling a huge boulder up the mountain only to watch it fall down again. Camus surmises that if Sisyphus were to have a shot at happiness, his best bet is to accept that there is nothing more to his life than this absurd pursuit... and that is the only way he can be free is to take pleasure in it!

Now, going back to my point about whether books really change the way we think, I can't help but wonder if this book really inspired me to pursue rich and varied experiences or accept the absurdity of my life. It certainly hasn't freed me of ethical and moral dilemmas. So what then has it bought me? Is it just another absurd pursuit that is best not analyzed? Should I just accept that there is nothing to gain from reading books? Is it futile to look to them to make my life meaningful? Or should I actually take Camus' advice and seek it only because it is one of those absurd pursuits that indulges me with (the possibility of) rich and varied experiences?

I suddenly see how Camus' book taught me something... and I think it may be the opposite of what he meant to teach me (because I find that I am influenced by his book)... or maybe not!... perhaps I best not analyze it. But, isn't that what Camus said? Am I agreeing with him?

What does Camus have to say about paradoxes?

You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go – Madeleine Peyroux
I Can't Say No – Jessica Molaskey
The Look Of Love – Diana Krall
My Baby Just Cares for Me – Nina Simone
My One and Only Thrill – Melody Gardot
The Nearness Of You – Norah Jones
My Love – Alyssa Graham
More – Pamela Luss
You Are My Sunshine – Sara Gazarek
I Wish You Love – Jane Monheit
Blame My Absent-Minded Heart – Kelli O'Hara
That's All – Nicole Henry
C'est si bon – Emilie-Claire Barlow

Ok. I don't know Swami Nithyananda beyond the sex scandal that erupted recently, but I can see why people are drawn to him. His videos were quite intriguing. He has a magnetic quality about him. I'll go ahead and confess that I also thought some of what he says is compelling, even if not sagacious (while most of it is repetitive and elementary). While his discourses on rumors and scandals are clearly inspired by his own current predicament, he doesn't really defend his acts or seem to want to justify them in anyway. In fact, he calls to mind the fact that we (humans, devotees, and others... not god-men!) enjoy reacting to perceived outrages... we rake up muck about people, participate in scandals, present them dramatically and savor all the gossip as much as possible to satisfy our own subconscious desire to feel the emotion of horror and disgust. It is as if to say this whole sex affair is less about him and more about us.

Here's one video.



I watched this video exactly for the reason he mentioned... for vicarious pleasure! But, while I don't agree with his act, here is why I agree with his take on scandals - Sun News!

(This post has been renamed on Anand's suggestion.)

My grandmom's sister had her clinic at home. It was this two-room outhouse with the bare minimum - a bed, medical supplies, some miscellaneous equipment ... like I said, the bare minimum. I don't really know how much she used the clinic. She worked in the hospital for the most part, but I presume she had a lot of patients visiting her at home as well.

The things that fascinated me most in her clinic were the stethoscope, the BP monitor, the weighing scale, and the old-style typewriter. Every time I visited her place, I would check my weight, feel my heartbeat (unsuccessfully), and then type out a complicated diagnosis for myself (mostly about not finding my heartbeat). I used to think the prescriptions doctors gave out were rather cold and impersonal. If a person needs poetic assurance about their life, it makes most sense to give it to them when they are ill and scared, than at any other time and by any other person who is not a doctor. I had all kinds of ideas on what kind of poetic assurance would make me feel better. For the most part, because my family is full of doctors, I didn't need to assure myself of getting better. My prescriptions came with the warmest hugs and I knew I would get well soon.

It's nice to have doctors at home, except when you want to be pampered (beyond the warm hug that is). I remember my friends' parents making them the nicest comfort food and indulging them with every attention (short of singing them a lullaby) throughout the period of their sickness (usually mild fever). It was as if their expressions of tenderness would nurse their kids back to health more than the doctors ever could. My family on the other hand, refrained from the melodrama but surrounded me with more doctors than I needed (including medical intern cousins showing off their knowledge and discussing the prognosis in unnecessary, complicated detail). Moreover, what was especially irksome was being used as a guinea pig for all the "sample" medicines that came their way. At my uncle's place where I lived for two years, I wished sometimes when I had a fever that he would give me a crocin (by mistake), instead of some nonproprieteric paracetamol tablet he wanted to try on me. Sometimes, these medicines came in boxes that didn't even have proper labels on them, which was scary. If my uncle and aunt (who too is a doctor) weren't related to me, I'd be sure as eggs is eggs that they were hellbent on dispatching me once and for all.

I don't quite remember having to go to a non-family doctor for medical treatment... except for my dentists, who too were either family friends or my cousins' bosses. I've had quite a few dentists who've treated me over the years and they've all ended in disaster. I have a fairly normal oral hygiene and am part of the statistical majority, which means I have more fillings than I have teeth. But, the reason it was disastrous had nothing to do with my oral hygiene. Every time, I warmed up to a dentist, he either got transferred, had to retire after a serious medical condition, or died of natural causes or accidents. There was one young dentist (my uncle's close friend) who lived next door. He stayed with me for the longest period, which is three years... until I moved out of the city! Now, I refrain from going to a dentist unless absolutely necessary... which is to say when my life and well-being is more important to me than theirs! Still, I couldn't be entirely wrong if I said dental treatments were bad both for me teeth and my dentists? My teeth are still rotten, terrible!

Have you ever noticed how sometimes you feel sick as a dog, until you drive to the doctor? ... and then all of a sudden the symptoms vanish and you feel like a goofball wasting their time? I hate when that happens. It doesn't help that my mom's side of the family is full of hypochondriacs (very unlike my dad's side). I have an uncle who drinks only bottled water even when he is at home for fear of getting sick from some incurable water disease! He was a police officer having nothing to do with the medical field, but his study has medical books of every description. He even authored a few books on health and medicine (I don't know how popular they are... but that's besides the point).

My brother and I inherited some of this hypochondria from my mom's side. I wake myself up in the night at least a few times just to make sure that I am not dead. Interestingly enough, I tolerate a lot of pain and avoid having to go to the doctor if the injury doesn't have to do with my respiratory system. For instance, I didn't go to the eye doctor for over a year until it became dangerous to drive without a new pair of glasses! (My myopia increased from -3.5 to -5 during this time) On the other hand, the minute my nose gets blocked, I rush to the doctor to make sure my lungs are getting enough oxygen. Last night, I was hyperventilating because my nose got cleared and I could breathe more easily than I ever have! This should have been good news, but I thought my lungs may not be able to handle the extra air supply all of a sudden.

My hypochondria isn't always logical or consistent. For instance I enjoy some kinds of outdoor activities that one would think would trigger my asthmatic symptoms! But, every time Tapi gets really ill, I start hyperventilating out of fear that should something happen to me that is life threatening, he might not be able to drive me to the doctor. Then the fear manifests itself with physical symptoms like the chest getting tighter, the heart beating faster, my breathing getting weird and before you know it, I have a full blown panic attack for a few minutes until I reason it out to myself or Tapi assures me that he can drive me to the doctor! Even now, when he gives me a tablet, I check the expiry date, the dosage, and make sure he opens the pill in front of me (or I open it) for fear that he may be (unknowingly) poisoning me! (I hope my mother-in-law isn't reading this!)

Did you know that doctors google their patients all the time? I wonder what my doctor(s) here, at home and everywhere think of my post!

There's about a 1000 calories in the veggie burrito I eat almost everyday. The good news is it has all the dietary fiber I need. The bad news is everything else that is not dietary fiber! :)

(Please be forewarned. This post is full of incongruous tangents, as happens a lot when I am ranting)

One of the things I do often is make a list of all the feelings I bought myself in a day and think about whether they were worth my time or not, and if they should have even been allowed.

I think we all do this subconsciously. Our tweets and facebook statuses are evidence of this. Some of us steer clear from publicizing our feelings, but that is because we like to keep them to ourselves without feeding people’s curiosity or eagerness to judge us.

But, our whole life can be summed up as an activity of collecting feelings. Some of us choose to collect a wide assortment of them, and some of us stick to collecting a lot of the same few feelings we think pleasurable.

But, if you consciously list out the feelings you bought yourself, you will start to see patterns in your attitudes. I do this mainly to keep myself entertained when I am occupied in some mundane activity. It’s nice to let your mind go off on tangents and think about random things with the tap running in the background when you are doing the dishes. :)

But I encourage you to try it. Here are some starters.

Who did you meet today and what kind of social conversation did you make? What do you like most about that fragrant, all-natural organic handmade soap you bought at the specialty store? What do you think of abstract art? What was the last movie you watched that you found so offensive that you thought it shouldn’t have been made? What kind of advertisements appeal to you?

The thought that’s currently occupying my mind is on the subject of creativity. I have been wiki-hopping and picking up all kinds of thoughts about this seemingly uncomplicated word.

What I set out to do was understand the value of creativity, mostly related to my work. Sometimes I am vexed by the limitations I need to conform to when I am thinking of ideas for my projects (because they make no business sense!). Then, I take a little break to encourage bitter thoughts about how my brilliance and creativity are being thwarted by these imbecilic notions of what makes sense and what does not! Why can’t people just accept that “I am talent” and shower me with praise (and money)

Mainly, how is a person to engage in the activity of being creative (or innovative) if people are constantly drawing perimeters around what is creative and what is not, what should be allowed and what should not?

As I was moping about all of this, my mind wandered slightly off-topic (although, if I want to, I can connect the dots and make them seem related). I was thinking about art. What if the role of art was not to entertain or make a compelling point, but to simply be art! By this, I don’t mean creating anti-art or anti-anti-art, but embracing the idea that art is whatever is presented as art.

The minute you define art even as one that rejects all prior definitions of art, you are creating a new definition, which too should be rejected by that same logic. But, what if we stopped defining art and started embracing everything more open-mindedly. By this I don’t mean we should accept everything we don’t find beautiful as beautiful, but that we could accept that everything need not be beautiful or compelling! Can we not collect more feelings from art than just the small set that we have assigned to it? Can we also not assess one art as being better than another because it possesses more layers of meaning?

This brings me to another of my peeves. How do we decide which cause is worthy of prioritizing over another? I keep looking at how cause marketing is evolving and making remarkable things happen. We are suddenly more aware and more pumped up about creating change than even before. I find that I am on both sides of this equation (I am the “marketer” and the “marketee”), but I especially enjoy looking at what kind of feelings businesses and nonprofits are tapping into (beyond our feelings of empathy and compassion that is) to make us respond to their satisfaction.

For instance, I was thinking about the environment, and how one of our justifications for saving the planet seems to be that it is beautiful and therefore worth saving. I am constantly watching wildlife documentaries and wondrously admiring these animals, as if the only reason they need to be saved is because they inspire wonder or awe! What if they were not so beautiful and do not inspire wonder or awe? Shouldn’t we still save them?

What if we are to prevent the extinction of tribal communities, not because we think they have a rich cultural heritage and are full of ancient wisdom, but because they deserve to live on this planet as much as we do regardless of whether we can appreciate them or not!

How about we let people, nature and things be, simply because they deserve to be and not because they appeal to our sense of gratification and our estimation of what is worthy of keeping!

You can see how my mind keeps wandering aimlessly. Now that I have ranted and gone off on tangents, I have lost the initial anger I felt a few minutes ago towards my work. Now I can go back to it in peace and conform to the limitations imposed on me without feeling so bitter :)

Is it already that time of the year when magnolia's perfume the air? 

Tapi and I went on a long enjoyable walk last night. The walks at night are usually less conversational. It is then that the hustling noises of everyday life are muffled by a symphony of sounds orchestrated by the wind into an elaborate musical composition. The rustling of trees, the songs of crickets are never so obvious in daylight. I used to think the chirping of crickets and katydids came from the stars twinkling at night because they always seemed to happen at the same time. Only, occasionally a frog would croak and break that illusion. I would then pretend that the croaking sound was the stars clearing their throats before the next performance. 

The only time Tapi and I talked was when he found me looking at people's houses through their windows. I said it was unfair that people can look out their window into where we were, but it was impolite for us to look in through that same window to where they were. He said it is because they bought themselves that privilege! We then went back to our quiet walk until a little after midnight.  

Yesterday was the first day that I noticed that the sun refused to set. It was nice and warm outside, and the slight chill in the breeze felt more suggestive of winter's departure. The magnolias have already begun trumpeting the beginning of spring. I can see daffodils starting to flower. The weeping willows have budded their downy sprigs. Soon, they will dance gently to welcome the cherry blossoms. Then the cherry blossoms will have woken up the city and festivities will enliven the season. There will be walks to suit every ability, stories to appeal to every taste, parades and shows to entertain every age, food fests to tickle every palate... 

This is also the time of the year when everyone is more environmentally aware. This is when people realize that the green that is growing abundantly around them is exquisite. And then, they notice the bright sunshine, the beautiful rivers, the stars in the sky, and want to proclaim that all of this is truly worth saving. That's how the commemorative Days and Weeks set in motion. Last year, we cleaned the river, planted trees, built sustainable houses, and celebrated with thousands of like-minded environment lovers while walking the walk(s) and talked the talk(s) :)  

I am going to follow the motto of creating a list for the sake of celebrating the list and catalog all the upcoming environmental Days and Weeks. 
 
March 18th was the National Biodiesel day, which went uncelebrated. I briefly contemplated wishing Rudolph Diesel a Happy Birthday on twitter. But, I realized it would be better spent reading about vegetable oil-based fuel than just benightedly wishing him. In a 1912 speech, Diesel said “the use of vegetable oils for engine fuels may seem insignificant today, but such oils may become, in the course of time, as important as petroleum and the coal tar products of the present time.” I thought about what it meant that he made this statement almost 100 years ago. I wondered if we are in the kind of dystopian future that he prophesied. But then, I read about the Vegetable oil economy and couldn't help marveling at how far we have come since Diesel's comment. Our present and future isn't all that dystopian. We are making good progress and I am very hopeful :) 

March 22nd is the World Day for Water.  Last year the ICRC called on governments to address the need to improve the quality of water especially in conflict zones. During the time of war, water supply and purification systems are destroyed, reserves become dangerous to access, or become dangerously displaced! I find that in 2010, we are still continuing to address the quality of water. I am all for a reinforcement of commitment. :)
 
March 27th the world will go dark for an hour on Earth Hour. I remember the Ayn Rand Institute saying it is ludicrous to turn off the lights for a measly 60 minutes. "Try spending a month shivering in the dark without heating, electricity, refrigeration; without power plants or generators; without any of the labor-saving, time-saving, and therefore life-saving products that industrial energy makes possible." I sure hope our world doesn't have to suffer that fate! And as a symbolic gesture to demonstrate my hope, we will turn off the lights this year as well (for the third consecutive time).

Between April 17-24th, which is the week of the new moon, the lights will go out again. It is the National Dark-Sky week, where we celebrate the night sky without light pollution. "The night sky is a gift of such tremendous beauty that should not be hidden under a blanket of wasted light. It should be visible so that future generations do not lose touch with the wonder of our universe." I wonder if there is a nice place we can go to to look at the skies. I also wonder what it means that we have to drive several miles to get to where I can appreciate the wonder of our universe!

There are at least 32 countries celebrating Arbor Day in April. India is not in the list. Our Arbor day (Van Mahotsav) is celebrated in July. The only time I remember planting trees on Van Mahotsav is as a guide or girl scout in school. I highly doubt that those trees survived beyond a few days, but it is the thought that counts, isn't it? In the US, the National Arbor Day is celebrated on the last Friday of April (April 30th). It is the day when people are encouraged to plant and care for trees.  

May 3rd is the International Migratory day. This is not the day when birds migrate (tee hee) :) It is to celebrate the migration of birds between their summer and winter homes. Seeing as I am bird crazy in my own little way, I decided to add this to my list of spectacular things to celebrate. 

A day before I leave for India, is the International Day for Biological Diversity. I think it's wonderful that I get to go on my vacation with thoughts about the rich variety of life on Earth.    

In my home country the UN and I will celebrate World Environment Day (June 5th) and World Day to Combat Desertification and Drought (June 17). I finally help alleviate population in India, by leaving the country on World Population Day (July 11th)! 

Am I ready for spring yet? Today, I am off on my first trail which promises the regions best wildflower displays. I am looking forward to it. Snorty and I also get to learn about clouds. :)