Of this and that...

Its been quite some time since I blogged. And I finally found something that has been disturbing me for quite some time...the idea of a world thats too overwhelming for itself! Sample this little video from youtube and you will know what I am talking about. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpEnFwiqdx8 More data, more information, more people, more jobs, more money, more technology, more advanced, more, more, more...the list of 'more' is endless. More is created, more is wanted, more is desired, more is appreciated. To flip the coin, we also have more problems, more pollution, more diseases, more depression. Dont get me wrong. I am not against technology, I am not against advancement, I am definitely not against the idea of science. I dont think yesterday was so much better and we were far happier when we had less gadgets and a slower pace of life. Change is good, I love to see the morning sun rise and dispel darkness as much as I love darkness envelop me at night with the sparkle

Unironed clothes. Unshaven. A wicker basket by my side with a steel carrier – food prepared by her, the last I will get to taste for a very long time. Thick glasses encased in black frames. Eyes that betrayed everything. She stood on the other side. Her yellow cotton saree, crumpled, a red and green check blouse, big round bindi on her forehead, a smile that displayed tooth uncared for, worn-out chappals betraying cracked soles. Sitting there on the floor of that airport, separated from her only by a railing, I sat writing addresses and phone numbers on a million strips of paper. She is illiterate and cannot speak any English. She is all smiles, in her own charming way, but little does she see the worries plaguing my mind. She can say Hustan, I wish it were enough. I insert the strips into every piece of her luggage, hoping they all reach the right place. I hand one to her and ask her to keep. She impishly puts it into the purse tucked into her person. And then comes the dreaded announ

May 1, Tuesday was a holiday. I took Monday off making it a long 4-day weekend. The whole family packed up and we drove down to Kodaikanal or Kodai as it is fondly known. The plan was to start early (hahha) Saturday morning, and drive down to Kodai by the evening. We did start early (well its relative!) around 7. And drove ahead full speed. The most important aspect was of course the food - K2 very responsibly stocked up the car with food of all kinds, some sweet, some savory, something to drink too. With very many stops en route eating, drinking, reading and sleeping, we made our way to the Palani hills. As we were driving by at top speed, I noticed men, clad in nothing more than yellow veshtis, clutching yellow cloth bags, walking barefoot alongside us. Curiosity led to enquiry, they were devotees of Lord Muruga, who had vowed to walk barefoot from their homes to Palani, Muruga's most sacred earthly residence, their dark faces calm and serene, full of purpose, unmindful of t

There is definitely a lot to write about the sights and sounds of Lucknow, the town traditionally known for its cultured Nawabs, mouth-watering kebabs, exquisite chikan and of course the warm hospitality. But I am a little disappointed. I was hoping my camera would share some of my burden in capturing the decadent splendor and a serene, sleepy city vibrating with life in pockets like Aminabad. But unfortunately, the first day here, I left my camera behind in my hotel room and day 2 was just too hectic for me to be able to even wield it on unsuspecting people and sights. So here I am, at 6 am on a Tuesday morning with exactly 10 people in the Amausi airport, struggling to keep my eyes open and waiting for the Sahara staff to arrive – I don’t know if this is a first but I was the first person into the airport. I was here at 5.30 am, exactly 2 hours before the flight time and was welcomed by 3 very amused police officers at the entrance. They wanted to know what time my flight was and I s

10 pm in the night. I have successfully managed to wiggle out of office and also let thoughts about work wiggle out of me...I reach for that slim book I had so neatly covered in newspaper, a strip of white paper which is the label tells me the book calls itself "A Writers Nightmare". I wonder what it means. I open it and start reading. Its full of 1 or 2 page write-ups on everything under the sun - marriages, school, mathematics, the scouts, the traffic situation, the writer's ego and even umbrellas (yes you read that right - there is actually an essay on umbrellas and a very interesting one at that explaining how we should all have 3 umbrellas - one for us, one for lending and one back-up in case anything happens to the other two!). I read each and every word with relish. I think about how unassuming the author is. And how humble. He actually says he started writing columns in The Hindu because he wanted to have a regular income - his first 3 novels bringing him fame bu

She is you, me and everyone else. She is every teenager brought up in every family. She is insecure, curious, confused, self-righteous, takes herself too seriously, yearns for acceptance, hates everyone one day and loves them the next, is angry before she understands why someone is different from her, she is every single girl. But she is amazing. She is amazing because she speaks about her dreams. She speaks about them to her dearest friend, Kitty. She loves to talk to Kitty, about herself, her every dream and emotion, her thoughts and feelings, her love and life, her hatred and pity. She finds in her diary her only true confidant, self-reflecting and self-indulging at times. She is amazing because she endured everything that came her way with the innocence of a child and the maturity of an adult, in all senses a teenager. My heart goes out to her and her honesty to her diary, when many of us shudder to be honest to our own selves. I salute her because she found the courage to write do