Thursday, April 27, 2006
Reserve a stretcher for Mr Singh, please!
am glad that there were disturbances in Delhi. Just the other day, I was musing to a friend that, this time around, it was only the newspapers and TV channels who were going hammers and tongs at the reservation issue. The general public, the student community, industry were all aghast at the news, but still didn't come out in the open with their resentment. It was as if, the failure to fight Mandal the first time around, had resulted in lethargy now - a feeling that whatever we do, nothing is ever going to come out of it.
And then, this happens...
Was it police brutality or were the students overstepping their boundaries? I don't care even if the students did go an extra mile. This is a vital issue. Vital for everyone, and anyone who doesn't see it is blind. Vote politics is evil. And this is as horrible and as prime an example of vote politics as it can get.
We are the future of the country, they tell us. Bastards. And then they try to remove our future away from us. Succeed? How are we to succeed if in the end, this is how they tie up our hands and feet and gag us? No, not 'gag' at any rate - not any more.
I wish someone would push Arjun Singh down a flight of stairs or something. And then get a quota doctor to treat him, a quota lawyer to fight his case, a quota MBA to manage his fund accounts for him to pay for his injuries and his court case.
It would screw him good.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Love - II
His name is Karma
Friday, April 21, 2006
Every now and then, I feel like coming back to this space and talking utter nonsense.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack jump over the candlestick
Trash. Now why on earth would any body called Jack, however sprightly and nimble he may be, want to jump over a candlestick? And even if he does, what's the great shakes in that?! I mean, it's not a giant candlestick or anything, right?
There's that theory that all these nonsensical rhymes-shymes (sigh, been missing Delhi like crazy lately) are based on some serious, and at times, even gruesome, issues/events. Like that silly old playground chant -
Ringa Ringa Roses
Pocketful of poses
A hush-a, a hush-oo,
We all fall down
- which is supposed to refer to small pox epidemics in Europe ages ago. Woof! Never thought about all that when you were happily whirling around in Montessori, hush-a-ing and hush-oo-ing now, were you?
How does your garden grow?
- Something about tinkerbells there.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Rang De Narmada
Sometimes, I think the media is biased, and then I think otherwise. The other day, Aamir Khan decided to renew his ties with Rang de Basanti, and sat in a dharna to campaign for the rehabilitation of those displaced due to the Narmada dam. Eyebrows were raised: another film maker politicking? TV and newspapers went overboard: on Sunday, four huge OB vans were parked in front of his residence at Pali Hill for a soundbyte on how he thinks, the people who disrupted screenings of RdB in Gujarat as a retaliation are "lumpen thugs".
But if you thought that the media was all soft and only wanted to show Aamir as the chocolate boy hero who's fighting for a good cause, think again. The very next day, after Aamir's dharna, while pictures of him sitting grimly near Parliament adorned the front pages, there were full length advertorials from notable industrialists and Gujarat politicians, supporting the Narmada project. The Ambani brothers, Birla, Mahindra, Essar, the who-have-you's opf business, with the leaders in Gandhi caps, sharing space despite the Congress-BJP divide. Much lambasting the Maharashtra CM for wanting the dam work to be halted.
Comical, at some levels, actually.
And then there was Ms High-and-Mighty Goddess-of-No-Things, Arundhati Roy, who proclaims that chocolate boy heroes who are brand ambassadors for Coca Cola Inc should not give dharnas for displaced victims, and this spot should be reserved only for unromantic intellectual authors.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Friday night and I'm booooooooooooooooooored.
So blooody booooooooooooooooooooooooooored.
Did I say how boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooored I am?
O, I did.
Been on the computer all evening, after having run home from work. Good news: my internet connection is free for 3 whole months, and I can use it from absolutely anywhere in the country! Cuz it's a data card, and will work anywhere with Tata Indicomm connection.
The bad news: I can see I have a lot of temptation to put behind me, if I am to study hard for the GRE. *gulp*
Must keep on telling myself that there's Rs 25,000 at stake here. Ouch. OUCH.
Off to dinner now with brother darling.
But, no, I'm still boooooooooooooooooooooooooored.
Now, I'm hunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggrrryyy too!
(Gosh, I sound like Desparado now! *shivers in horror*)
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Infosys is a psycho.
They ALWAYS release results on a holiday.
Which means, I ALWAYS end up working on a day when I could be...
seeing a movie
eating a lazy lunch
chatting up old friends
studying a bit (sorely needed!)
going for a drink (Love calls me bevda)
going to bed, content
Nandan Nilekani, a pox on you!
Monday, April 10, 2006
Things break down for the silliest of reasons at times. Sometimes, for no reason at all.
My flatmate would agree, if she heard me. She'd think I was talking about her computer or her internet connection. ;-)
It's also true for relationships, however.
I called up Love today, and asked whether it was true: the answer I got comforted me, warmed me, and made me realise (for the umpteenth time!) that I'm in love with a beautiful person.
By the way, I should get my own internet connection within the week. ;-) Got a Tata Indicomm data card free with my laptop (yes, I finally bought it!) and it should be installed by Friday. Free Of Cost. I love those three little words.
Love would kill me if I said this aloud. ;-)
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Go(a) Forth and Multiply...
Himesh Reshammiya is the God of Goa. From the bus which carried us into Goa, to the numerous pubs/beach shacks/lounge bars we frequented, he was crooning in his nasal voice about aashiqs and aashiqees, that made us grin. A touch of Bombay in idyllic, easy Goa.
Was so much fun zooming down the highways, from Baga Beach where we stayed, to Panjim and Old Goa, to Calengute and Candolim beaches, to Anjuna Beach and the Saturday Night Bazaar at Arpora, to Fort Aguado and Sim-something Beach. I'm not making much sense here - it was liberating to zoom on the bike with my shirt open - like the t-shirt stall owner commented, when Desparado picked out a sleeveless T that is meant for women elsewhere in the country - 'Goa pe sab chalta hain!' (Everything goes in Goa!) I grew self conscious the moment we boarded the bus back to Bombay, buttoning my shirt back on.
I still haven't recovered from the Goa hangover, and neither has Desparado. Plans are afoot to visit the beach shack on Juhu this Friday, to recreate some of that feel and freedom. I shared candle-lit dinners with Desparado, and that's why it seemed so strange - we laughed and told each other, "No offence, I'm having a great time, but I wish I was in this dinner with someone else!" *grin*
I can't help not talk about the itinerary, however boring it might be for people who haven't been to Goa, or however much it may tease those who have... But even while I think of listing it down, day by day, hour by hour, all of it merges into one single mass, and it's quite impossible to tell them apart. Maybe that's how good memories go. *beatific grin*
The theme of this trip was so obviously food. Food. Food means pork vindaloo at Britto's on Baga Beach, teamed up with saana, this Goan sweet idli thing which was simply yummy, and loads of beer and port wine. Food means beef chilly fry at night, at Souza Lobo's on Calengute Beach, candles and one-man band playing Goan music and all, and a slice of yummy yummy bibinca. Souza Lobo's again the day we left, with sizzling bibinca teamed with vanilla ice cream, and no wonder I'm gaining weight. (All the freebie lunches at the Hilton and Taj ahead will add to the calories!) And Food means watching the ocean play below you at Sea Pebble, in Dona Paula, on the outskirts of Panjim, eating papads stuffed with prawn, whole tandoori baby kingfish, and prawn curry-rice. And then, there was also the fish thaali at the Ritz in Panjim, with fried fish and MORE prawns and clams. ;-) It's a wonder I didnt sprout tentacles anywhere. The waiters were carrying around these trays of squids and pomfret and shrimps, and Desparado and I kept staring at them.
Goans love colours. All those gorgeous houses on top of hills, bang opposite the oceanfront, in bright dual shades of red and white, burnt ochre and white, blues and white... etc etc... Yummy to see. There was Venite in Campal, in Panjim, grilled balconies with tables where couples were eating food. The Campal area is gorgeous... lined with old fashioned lightposts and shady trees, an old-world Marine Drive, but before you completely believe that, you see the Caravela, India's only floating (and otherwise) casino. The approach to Panjim is amazing - the bridge is huge and yawns over the waterways, and if you're coming at night, the lit-up ramparts of the Panjim coast, with the pleasure barges crisscrossing below, is amazing. Amazing to see all that when you're speeding across on a bike.
Anjuna Beach is also amazing, if for different reasons. Desparado's eyes popped open as all the hot babes kept peeling off their tops to wade into the ocean or just sun bathe. Loads of idiot men came around purposely to watch free boobies, but who can blame them, really?! It's not as if the gals were feeling very self conscious. But I guess, it's really all about how everything 'goes' in Goa. It's almost like another country - a place where you can simply let... be! And no one bothers or gives a fuck.
Wrong note to end the paragraph when I'm going to start talking about a Church.
*makes the sign of the cross hurriedly*
The Basilica of Bom Jesus in Old Goa, and that's where the mortal remains of St Francis Xavier are interred. 15 years of Xaviers' and all, so I was pretty enthusiastic to go see it. It's pretty amazing. Lovely gold vaults, and arches. Desparado and I went mad taking snaps, and Desparado tried climbing a pulpit for a pic, but was shooed away by a priest. We got the snap, neverthelss!
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Go(a)n with the Wind
So, I hopped on the bus and came away. To Goa. Sudden decision and a need for a break. So far, it's been good. All hot sun and walks down alleyways, good looking firangs and desis flexing bare skin and muscles under the hot sun. Cheap beer by the beach, and excellent pork vindaloo. Sweet sana and irish coffee cream mousse cake. Aaa, the good life.
I must stop sounding like a catalogue now, however tempted I may be.
Am not one of those who talk on the blog about where they've gone or what they've eaten - well, actually, I used to, but not anymore - so it all seems very silly now. Am not one of those beautifully feathered beings, either, though I'm wearing white capris on the beach now, and red ankle length socks. ;-) My travel partner giggled in disbelief when he saw the socks, and so did my brother, but I don't give a fig. I love them.
More about Goa. Things I want to do here, before my three days are up:
1. Flirt with a cute foreigner. Nothing more than that, mind you, cuz I still have my love in mind. (lol, my love will always be in my mind!)
2. Eat bibinca.
3. Party mad. (Though it's hard for stags with a limited wallet supply here.)
4. Read a book, listen to music under an open umbrella on the beach - that should happen in precisely 30 minutes.
5. Buy Goan port wine, prawn pickles.
6. Buy junk jewellery, crap shirts/kurtas
7. Learn to ride a goddamn motorbike. (We rented a Kinetic here.)
8. Flirt with a cute foreigner.