tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186403582024-03-08T02:32:50.724+08:00Quirky QuillQuirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-27081661310945139952015-12-10T20:06:00.001+08:002015-12-10T20:06:13.708+08:00We have moved!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Folks,<br />
<br />
Musings have a new home.<br />
Please visit www.quirkyquill.com.<br />
<br />
* end of broadcast*<br />
<br />
-QQ<br />
<a href="http://www.quirkyquill.com/">www.quirkyquill.com</a></div>
Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-77417420736135722142012-11-26T19:10:00.003+08:002012-11-26T19:10:30.246+08:00Leave the "break" out- Maternity leave (1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When my mother said 'wait till you become a mother yourself' with a smirk, I, in true daughter fashion, returned the smirk with a pooh-pooh and a shrug. Of course, I see the immense sense in that statement only after I became a mother myself. Still not a fan of the smirk though.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm a fairly new mom- having embarked on this journey 6 months back but even in this short span, the changes I see in myself and the life I lead, are honestly, shocking. Recounting my top 5.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. <strong>Fast and furious</strong>- Though a type A personality who spoke, walked and typed fast, when it came to matters more mundane, I set a more leisurely pace for myself. Put on a nice playlist and then shower to soulful music. Enjoy every morsel while watching TV. Stay curled up in bed with a book. Taking 20 minutes to decide what earrings to wear with that dress. Hah. If the me of 2011 could only see the me of late 2012. My teeny tiny employer only takes so many naps in a day, so every break needs to be gainfully employed between must-dos (shower, loo, eat, pump milk) and can-also-do's (read newspaper, send messages, return calls) and since the break could last anywhere between 30 mins to an hour, clearly the must-do's have to be prioritized. So if someone asks me if I enjoyed the slow pace of life during the maternity leave, I would like them to be assured of the breakneck speed with which I operate, while I mentally break their neck.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2. <strong>Social circle or lack thereof</strong>- Parties with loud music are a thing of the past. My wine cabinet stands forlorn and neglected. It's been a while since I had long conversations with friends. Yes, I do continue to spend time on FB and whatsapp but real conversations with friends and family have been put on hold. Calls get returned every now and then but it is just really hard to synchronise my life with folks who are working because they feel they might be disturbing the baby and I feel their work needs to be disturbed anyway. So much so, my own mother has hung up on me a couple of times because I was describing her grandson's antics while a patient was being just that on her examination table. However, this change is not all bad. When you have limited time and mindspace, you tend to prioritize and you separate the chaff from the grain, the acquaintances from the friends from the really close friends who you can trust with your baby's diaper. Some people just fall off the radar. And from where I stand (from the head of my baby's crib, in case you are wondering), that's for good reason. <br />
<br />
To be continued...</div>
</div>
Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-50940615734633412762012-09-01T18:06:00.001+08:002012-09-01T18:06:13.725+08:00And so it begins. Again.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I had taken a break from blogging since about 18 months or so. There were too many things happening- travel, work, being pregnant etc. and then again, posting updates on FB was so much easier. I should thank Y (yashodharalal.com) for getting me to visit my own blog after several months, if only to rehash something as a contest entry.<br />
And since I came knock knock knockin' on my own door, only appropriate that I answer in a fitting manner. Time to unleash the little bit of creativity lurking somewhere beneath that thick skull.<br />
Time it is to revive the blog.<br />
If you, dear reader, are still around- time to say hello! </div>
Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-29323553209860046022012-08-25T09:35:00.002+08:002012-08-25T09:59:54.871+08:00The 'Just married please excuse' contest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is from 2008- a mere 3 months after we had been married :) four years and a baby later, it still seems funny enough to repost for Y'sbook contest and a healthy dash of nostalgia.<br />
(http://www.yashodharalal.com/2012/08/the-just-married-please-excuse-contest.html)<br />
<div>
<br />
It's supposed to be a well known and widely acknowledged fact that a boy needs only two belts- brown and black. Since I was on an expedition to another galaxy when they made one and all aware of the above fact, I merrily bought M 3 belts on his birthday. You know, I thought variety would be nice. Also, I have a technical flaw-can't really buy ONE of anything. As far as I can remember, clothes and accessories have always been bought by me in 2's and 3's.
If I thought the ridicule and laughs that followed the unveiling of the gifts was the worst that could happen, I was wrong. You see, M also has a technical flaw- he's a boy. And by definition, that means ridding self of all accessories-wallet, watch, company id, coins, handkerchief- at no fixed spot, each time one comes back home. The dining table, the centre table, the desk, the kitchen counter, the ironing board, the bar counter, the side crockery cabinet, my dressing table, the printer- all have been blessed at some point or the other with his highness' mess.
Now the wallet, company id, watch etc are all essentials and leave with the bearer the next morning- all except the belt because thanks to the generous wife, he proudly owns FIVE of them- 5 belts to strew around the house, as he pleases. So the belts sit pretty in their corners- only to be discovered during the weekly dusting mission. To twist a line from Asian Paints: Har ghar ka kona kuch kehta hai. Ki is konay mein har week ek naya belt rehta hai.
Now I know why boys only need 2 belts. I also know what self inflicted pain means.
******************************************************<br />
In his mind, M equates the bed to an open cupboard, with the result, that the actual cupboard yearns to be populated with clothes, socks or even belts, while the bed in the guest room resembles a clothes' village after a typhoon. The disarray does not attract M's attention but puts me in distress mode.
So I neatly fold all his clothes and restore the bed to some degree of order only to have M tell me in an excited voice " You know our house has magic elves. They fold clothes!" M also refers to the part time maid as our weekly fairy godmother. Sigh.
Do you know of a fairy tale character who spanks kids who mess up their rooms? M needs to be introduced to that character. Before I become the wicked witch of the north/west.
***************************************************
We've watched quite a few Hindi movies heavy on Urdu/Punjabi words in the recent past (Khuda Kay Liye, A Wednesday, Singh is King)- enough to have taught M the use of words & phrases such as " fakr hai", "mehfooz", "mehsoos", "ijaazat", "bhootni ke", "kamaal hai", which he uses in the most unlikely situations- e..g instead of how are you, he asks me "sab khairiyat?" on chat! Sounds ever more hilarious in person- the lovely Tam accent accentuates the fun :)
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We watch animal planet quite regularly and he keeps asking me for animals' names in Hindi. And since, I havent yet mastered the art of shoving my foot in my mouth, I tell him.
He's using baby magarmachch (crocodile) , baby gilahari (squirrel) and lakkadbagghi (hyena)as terms of endearment for me.
I quite like gilahari, though.
Posted by Quirky Quill at 11:38 AM
Labels: life has a sense of humour, pyaar ke side effects</div>
</div>
Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-42134317419414467432011-02-20T19:32:00.000+08:002011-02-20T19:32:01.348+08:00Tell me once more<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i></i><br />
<i><br />
I have heard those stories so many times.<br />
Of how I learnt to walk or the things I hated to eat.<br />
The tales of my childhood that no camera can repeat.<br />
I recreate them in my head as you narrate the memories in words.<br />
But go ahead Aai, tell me once more.<br />
<br />
Tell me of the time I was less than one.<br />
Of my unsure steps and my wobbly gait<br />
that paused after a fall, just as the fun had begun.<br />
Of how instead of latching on to any available support,<br />
I held out my index finger for some adult to hold.<br />
<br />
Tell me of the time when I was only two.<br />
The poems that you helped me learn<br />
and the book that had pictures too.<br />
Of how I made people believe that I could already read<br />
When I was really reciting from memory and using the pictures as cue.<br />
<br />
Tell me again of the time I lied to you<br />
It was sunday afternoon and the time for my TV show<br />
you let me watch when I told you the homework was done<br />
A blank notebook earned me my first ever slap<br />
Harsh as it was, I learnt my lesson<br />
<br />
Tell me of how I was a chatterbox, a contrast to your first born.<br />
Of the clips and bows and ribbons and bands, I insited you put on me<br />
Of how I'd choose a dress myself but never ever wear it again.<br />
And the pre-exam wake up calls with coffee and breakfast at three.<br />
<br />
Tell me also of the times when I behaved badly with you<br />
Of the countless arguments and fights and the midnight curfew<br />
Tell me you forgive me for the times I slammed the door<br />
Of how I would have still had buck teeth were it not for you.<br />
<br />
Go ahead, tell me once more Aai,<br />
Tell me so I realize that you've shaped what I've come to be.<br />
So each time I look at the mirror, I find a bit of you in me.<br />
Tell me once more, so I can see myself from the lens that you saw me through.<br />
So i know that no matter what my age, I'm nothing but a part of you.<br />
<div><br />
</div></i><br />
(Aai means Mother in Marathi and this is also, how I address my mother)<br />
<i><br />
</i></div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-35488407615290538232010-11-01T22:57:00.000+08:002010-11-01T22:57:10.403+08:00Hay- Man (Hey Ram!)One lazy afternoon, M made an unusually dumb suggestion.<br />
To which, in my characteristic Dalhi finesse, I replied" Dimaag mein bhoosa bhara hai kya?"<br />
M being M did not let ignorance come in the way and answered back first " Poore shareer mein bhoosa bhara hai" and since that made me giggle uncontrollably, he realized that he didn't quite know what he had said.<br />
The giggles went on and so did the persistent pestering on what "bhoosa" was. But that just brought on more giggles. Since persistence is his middle name, he thinks reframing the question might do the trick. <br />
So, he starts singing!<br />
<b> "Yeh bhoosa bhoosa kya hai, yeh bhoosa bhoosa?" </b><br />
<i>(Remember Saudagar?- badly made up Archana Pooran Singh and company crooning "yeh ILU ILU kya hai") </i>Now imagine M singing that, with the front and back head nod.<br />
The bad Hindi movie reference was endearing and won him not just the answer, but also a nickname.<br />
He is now known as Bhoosa Ram.Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-29301941827218630202010-10-16T21:03:00.000+08:002010-10-16T21:03:52.210+08:00Just like that (or what I have been upto)<div style="text-align: justify;">Though I started blogging almost 5 years back (yes-the number of posts belies the age), it still surprises me to get questions or any remarks about my blog. You mean you actually spend time reading what I have to say? And it's not humility or anything nor is it ignorance a reason (note the tracker at the bottom?). I think it's more to do with the comments coming from folks who I didn't think visit this space or even if they do, care much about it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, it is mildly inspiring and encouraging enough to pick up the lost thread and weave a pattern or two.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since I've spent about 3 months away from the blog, it might be good to record what's kept me away:</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- <i>Running</i>: Though by no means a good runner- I am starting to stretch myself (not literally, duh!). I recently finished my longest run ever- 30km- finishing it in 3h46m also renewed my confidence in being able to complete the 42km in half-decent time. I have only 7 more weeks to go, so there will be a lot more training to do in the coming days.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- <i>Work</i>: A change of assignment has meant learning new things and working with new people. The novelty factor hasn't worn off yet, though minor teething troubles surface every now and then. As does the perennial existential question of what I need to be doing ultimately and in the 'long run'. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">- <i>Short breaks:</i> Thanks to work and sundry, got to spend weekends in Melbourne and Manila and am glad to report I spent them well-on reunions with friends and fashion respectively. Also, managed a very relaxing and agenda-free trip to Bali with M (if ever you need names of good veg restaurants, mail- discovered quite a few in Ubud). We stayed in the middle of a rice field and it was a glorious change to have no internet or TV in the room- lush green fields and the sound of a rooster crowing. I'm sure I'd get tired of it after a while, but for 2 days, it seemed perfect. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">-<i> Reading</i>: Thanks to Bali, I managed to finish a book in 3 days (Code of the Wooster, PG Wodehouse). Rediscovering PG was such a joy- such wit and so many laugh-out-aloud moments. I did get M to consider PG but he continues to absorb his daily dose of humor very easily from Dilbert. Sigh. Among other books that I read- Man & Boy (Tony Parsons)- a touching yet funny and well-written tale of a hot-shot TV exec who has it all. loses most of it and gains more in the process- very nice description of a father-son-father relationship; Jia (J. Kim)- novel based in N. Korea- this is an easy read and frankly, I devoured the book out of curiosity that the country generates. Reminded me a bit of Oshin, the Japanese TV series that aired on DD, almost 15-20 yrs back (gosh, I'm such a dinosaur!!)</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Travel Planning: November and December promise to be travel filled months and being an independent traveller means spending hours and hours on research and itineraries. More on those after the trips are done. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Salsa and Pilates: Joined classes for both about a month back. What's more, even M's joined salsa with me. Good fun :) And Pilates is helping me strengthen my core, which will, I hope, have a positive impact on running as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Cooking experiments: Made Risotto, Thai Green curry and Mapo-Tofu from scratch, and beamed after the results turned out so well. Did want to give baking a shot, but decided against it. Gaining weight before a marathon doesn't seem like good strategy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Next few months promise to be fun- with one good friend (& awesome shopping partner) shifting to Singapore, MIL's visit, Diwali with family, niece's wedding (now I sound even older than a dino), some work trips, the marathon and then finally the December vacation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Life's good and about to get better :)</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-34137520136825193392010-07-24T13:05:00.000+08:002010-07-24T13:05:08.066+08:00Need real time Spell & EQ check<div style="text-align: justify;">This is not a post. It's many rants rolled into one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I understand that time and space are real constraints in this twitter & FB dominated world. But must we abandon all that we learnt before we turned 10? It's WHEN, not wen. It's THAT, not dat. It's not kool to say just that.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm fine with abbreviations but deliberate misspelling and omission of 1 measly letter- how is that going to earn you any more time or a whole lot more space? Last I checked, expression didn't get inhibited by adding an extra letter! Fine, text messages or twitter are very character dependent and you want to economize. But surely you can do that by framing your sentence properly? Or does that take too much time too? What really gets my goat, is when people start operating in this mode on mails, posts and even official mail. *shudder*</div><div style="text-align: justify;">__________________________________________________________________________________</div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I'm on the topic of rants, let me also make it clear to all and sundry, that I'm in no hurry to reproduce. Just because I have a 1 month old niece (who I love talking about) does not imply that I need one of my own. I wonder what's a good response to "now's your turn"...... My mind usually goes to "Sure, could you show me your bedroom...M and I won't waste another minute" or " This is not a GAME for me to do my turn" but usually those signals meant for my vocal cords get intercepted and waylaid to my frowning muscles. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though I usually ignore them, I think these persistent suggestions have started to affect me. I'm starting to hold back on playing with a kid or exclaiming who cute she is , because I know there's bound to be someone watching and then pronouncing that I'm ready. Of course, the only thing holding me back was that certification. Can hold a baby for 2 mins without dropping him. Yes, that shows readiness for a lifetime of responsibility along with proclivity to procreate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, I do eventually want to experience motherhood but I'm not about to discuss something so private with a bunch of people who fall in the "smile and dismiss" category. We'll have a baby as per our plans and it's usually not something that stays hidden for long. I apologize for the lack of broadcast of those plans. My super genius unborn baby will save the planet but not just yet. Please do be patient.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There. That felt good :) </div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-4854237525509674692010-06-12T14:43:00.000+08:002010-06-12T14:43:06.885+08:00In that frame of mind....when I feel like playing this song over and over again....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/CPEsckkYXjw/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CPEsckkYXjw&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CPEsckkYXjw&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div><br />
What's your song today?Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-91668717628621495552010-05-11T23:37:00.003+08:002010-05-11T23:46:54.983+08:00If...Thanks Chandni for the Inspiration!<div>The Bamboo tree might have flowered in the time that it took me to come back to this space and write! But now that I have, here goes:</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(65, 65, 65); line-height: 19px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">f I were a month, I’d be April (but naturally)</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a day of the week, I’d be Wednesday </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a time of day, I’d be 12 noon. (lunch time!)</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a season, I’d be spring.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a planet, I’d be Earth.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a sea animal, I’d be a whale.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a direction, I’d be West.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a revolving chair.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a liquid, I’d be Wine.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a tree, I’d be an Ashok tree</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a tool, I’d be a hammer (so I can nail it guahaha)</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were an element, I’d be Helium (and help balloons go UP)</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a gemstone, I’d be diamond.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a saxophone.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a color, i’d be Blue.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were an emotion, I’d be Happiness.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a fruit, I’d be a Lychee</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a sound, I’d be the sound of windchimes.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a car, I’d be a Mini cooper.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were food, I’d be kadhi-chawal.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a taste, I’d be spicy.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a scent, I’d be gardenia</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be peep toe sandals.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 18px; padding-left: 0px; ">If I were a bird, I’d be a cuckoo</p></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(65, 65, 65); line-height: 19px; ">And last but not the least, if I were you, I’d take it up too!</span> :) (This one's for Anu, Sheen and Goofy Mumma)</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-9515962529742424582010-03-29T21:42:00.002+08:002010-03-29T22:05:26.787+08:00Lessons in Urdu<div style="text-align: justify;">M and I attended the Midival punditz concert a few weeks back. We also got one of the cds as a gift from a generous friend.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the tracks that was playing in the car as we were driving back home, was based on Ghalib's poetry- " har ek baat pe kehte ho..ki tu kya hai. Tumhi kaho ke yeh andaz-e-guftagoo kya hai". <i>(stay with me- this is relevant to the rest of the story)</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Needless to say, for someone who's gradually becoming familiar with Hindi, this had the same effect a heavy metal song might have on Mayawati- zero comprehension but immense wonderment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" So, what does gufta-gu mean"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" It's a nice way of saying conversation-but you don't really use it colloquially"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" So would it be right to say- 'mere ghar aa ja. gufta-gu karenge?'"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" hahahahahah. no. that just sounds like a proposition"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" but is it not like 'vaartalaap?'"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" yes. it is the urdu equivalent of vaartalaap- but you don't use it in everyday language unless you are reading the news.....at home!"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" so how would you use it?"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>" umm, if I were to compose a poem and say 'aa baith mere ru-ba-ru. gufta-gu karenge" (yes- this was at my poetic best)</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"......"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"why don't you call up S and tell her that hum uske ghar gufta-gu ka pradarshan karne aa rahe hain"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"???!!!! silly- pradarshan means display!"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"what does the song mean anyway- each time you ask me, who are you?"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"no no. It's more of a probe into what you are...think of it as 'tu cheez kya hai' types"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"simple-main cheez badi hoon mast mast"</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> *give up+ apology to Ghalib*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Heavy metal might not be a bad idea. The mayhem does not conceal very many words. </div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-36190634136327242982010-03-20T14:00:00.000+08:002010-03-20T14:01:39.989+08:00Life Is<p class="MsoNormal">A riot of colors</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Poetry in black and white</p> <p class="MsoNormal">An evening spent in the company of laughter</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A day dissolving tears in fire</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The breeze that caresses your face</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The footprint that melts after meeting the wave</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The dew drops of hope that glisten in the sun</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moments consumed by the gluttony of thoughts </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Crumbling under the pressure of convention</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Getting resurrected by the levity of ambition</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The mind wandering and searching for the truth</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The heart stumbling on common desires</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Experiences that clasp and mold</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Events dispersed and tales untold.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life is.</p>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-86766350104377573562010-01-16T22:28:00.002+08:002010-01-16T22:32:17.597+08:00Nana Munha Rahi Hoon<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Remember Swades?-the scene when SRK spots the lil’ fella selling water in a ‘kulhad’. You might have felt your eyes moisten a bit or maybe even a lump forming in your throat. Or maybe not.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Remember Taare Zameen Par? the scene when Aamir watches dolefully at “chhotu” cleaning the tables at a highway dhaba. You might have recalled a similar instance from your life when you shook your head condemning child labour but felt too small to cause a change. Or maybe not.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Remember Slumdog Millionaire? the scene when Jamal and Latika are made to beg. You might have felt angry at the foreigners making the film too real for comfort or maybe you stayed indifferent. Or maybe not.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">How about the Rs. 700 you might have spent on watching any of these movies at a multiplex? What if the same amount were to make a very real and very meaningful impact to a child’s life? What if all it took was 2 minutes to bring a child closer to 1 year of education?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Would you still hesitate in taking action? If you are proud to call yourself an Indian, maybe not.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">WHAT IS THIS ABOUT</span>?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">School Equals Lunch feed 6,00,000 underprivileged children one hot meal every day. This meal is served at the municipal school they study in, and is very often the only way to convince their parents to send their kids to school.<br /><br />One hot meal. For which the parent sacrifices sending the child to wash your car or sell flowers at the signal. One hot meal. Which is probably the only nutritious meal the child has in a day.<br />One hot meal. That brings a child to school every day.<br />And all it takes is Rs 700 for a whole school year.<br />So here’s what we’re hoping for. If we can get thousand people to donate Rs. 700 in the next ten days, then thousand more kids can go to school this year.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">HERE’s HOW YOU CAN DONATE:</span><br />1. TO DONATE, YOU COULD USE THE INTERNET PAYMENT GATEWAY AT WWW.MIDDAYMEAL.COM<br />2. OR CALL 022 40366866. THEY'LL GUIDE YOU THROUGH THE PAYMENT OPTIONS.<br />3. DRAW CHEQUE IN FAVOUR OF 'ISKCON FOOD RELIEF FOUNDATION' AND MAIL IT TO NANHA MUNNA RAHI HOON, ISKCON FOOD RELIEF FOUNDATION, 19 JAYWANT INDUSTRIAL PREMISES, 63 TARDEO ROAD, MUMBAI 400 034. OR CALL SEEMA AT 982084245 TO HAVE IT PICKED UP, IF YOU ARE IN MUMBAI</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">MORE ABOUT SCHOOL EQUALS LUNCH:</span><br />We are School Equals Lunch. We’re passionate about feeding children. You are more than welcome to visit our kitchens or call Seema at 9820842453 to know more, or even visit our website (www.middaymeal.com). We’d love to show you how much thought and effort goes into cooking that one meal. Whether it’s a different Khichdi for every weekday or the steam cooking kitchen we‘ve introduced, we’d love to share our passion with you.</span></span></p>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-78408146660468244352009-12-17T23:50:00.003+08:002009-12-17T23:54:50.212+08:00Worth Repeating<p>This dates back to beginning of 2008 and since this blog has seen many new readers since then, the following seems worth repeating. </p><p><a href="http://quirkyquill.blogspot.com/2008/01/happiness-knockin.html">http://quirkyquill.blogspot.com/2008/01/happiness-knockin.html</a></p><p>Season's Greetings. Spread the cheer :)</p>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-30777096324675835262009-12-05T13:04:00.003+08:002009-12-05T13:33:20.680+08:00Weekend Realizations<div style="text-align: justify;">- I'm very greedy and ambitious. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">What else would explain a 30 before 30 list that is in reality, a 60 before 30 list? Each point on that list can neatly be broken down into two or even 3 individual to-do's. But no, life isn't complete without a goal that stretches or nearly breaks my back. Examples: <i>Do 21km+ 42 km marathon runs</i>. Or what has really got me up in arms- <i>Read 50 good books!</i> And I have been reading, trust you me. But here the clever qualifier of "Good" has meant that I have unwittingly brought in the quality of writing into the picture. Sigh. Now that I have picked up a good book (A suitable boy)...it alone weighs as much as 5 decent sized books. Phew. I''m a tough taskmaster.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Going for desi movies is a motivational class.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There is this program on one of those lifestyle channels- who'll age faster. Based on your diet, exercise and other lifestyle choices, a team of experts projects just how badly you'll age. Each time I go to the theatre that plays desi movies, I feel I'm in that program- Will that be me in 5/10/20 years?- the auntie who looks equally comfortable with her Benz and her love handles? The one who hopes her expensive accessories will make others ignore her sad fitness levels? The one who looks like a pear and can wear nothing but kurtis? The one whose life is enormously comfortable but nondescript nonetheless? Nothing motivates better than fear and nothing cures fear better than action. So if i'm running harder on a sunday after a saturday movie, you know what has spurred the action.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">-I'm 28 and without a baby and I don't feel the void.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm genuinely happy in the here and now, being with M, doing the stuff that brings immense joy and fulfillment. The clock's ticking but is that reason enough? There is just so much to do (refer to point 1 above) and no tearing hurry to become a selfless and evolved person (which I have heard other people become as parents- no clear evidence but yes, a lot of hearsay). </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">- The world of fitness is also a world full of expenses</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Being lazy and fat doesn't involve half as much expenditure as your bid to remain fit. Strangly enough, what is unhealthy costs much lesser than what your body genuinely needs. case in point-Mac fries vs 99.9% fat free yoghurt. And it's not just food.No matter how you decide to keep yourself fit you can't escape the fact that Fitness equipment (weights, mats, gym machines, hydration packs, fuel belts), fitness wear (shoes, dri-fit socks, compression shorts), fitness food (energy bars, gels, protein shakes) and motivation (group classes, trainers etc.) are going to make lighter, definitely, your wallet and possibly, you. But then point 2 stares you in the face, you pay through your nose and your determination to chart a course through the fitness terrain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-65778210601117935462009-10-31T15:52:00.007+08:002009-10-31T17:04:30.441+08:00Saying thank you to differencesShe's devoured 3 books in the last 3 weeks.<div>He thinks Book Cricket and the score he can keep.</div><div>On a trip, he knows not which city is next.</div><div>She could recite the itinerary in her sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her brain cells refuse to store any technical details,</div><div>For him, that's nourishment for the soul.</div><div>Everything should be out there, mess-his divine right.</div><div>She throws away even important documents, in a bid to keep them out of sight.</div><div><br /></div><div>A crisis has him unstirred- his nerves made of steel,</div><div>She's pacing here and there-as stressed as she can feel.</div><div>But the situation is quite different if he doesn't see her by the appointed hour</div><div>Now he's pacing here and there-the paranoid side revealed.</div><div><br /></div><div>He talks of buying a house, she's already planning next year's travel.</div><div>He's looking at the big rocks while she's playing with pebbles and gravel.</div><div>Her music fits his definition of the dying or for the dead.</div><div>While his loud techno beats are met with her frowning dread.</div><div><br /></div><div>His fitness discipline is famous, her laziness less well known.</div><div>She loves to move and shake- to crazy jumping, he's prone.</div><div>He'd rather watch action and horror and finds her revulsion to those strange.</div><div>She eats her meals with Hindi soaps-enough to drive him insane.</div><div><br /></div><div>They think unlike each other, their ways are so far apart.</div><div>They must thank the forces which made the tale start.</div><div>For were it not for the vast differences and the contrast so bright,</div><div>The story would be quite boring, with little exasperation or delight.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-58726136360200026672009-08-18T20:15:00.004+08:002009-08-18T22:30:47.140+08:00News can be fun<div align="justify">I'm a news hound and read at least 2 newspapers each day. (International Herald Tribune and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">TOI</span>/Mint- I have a habit of volunteering information-didn't you notice- I have a blog!). News websites such as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ndtv</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rediff</span> are also toured but infrequently because I like to sink my teeth into in-depth reports instead of sniffing at breaking news snippets. </div><div align="justify">However, I largely make do with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">epapers</span>. For I stay in a city where the regular newspaper less than delights and carries about 1 page of news worth reading. For I yearn for real news vs "window pane breaks and injures 2" and there are only so many sales, slimming & bust enhancement ads that my senses can bear. But yet, being a news hound, I can't really stop myself from the cursory glance at the free newspaper and if nothing else, then satisfying myself with the easy Sudoku it carries each day.</div><div align="justify">But today happened to be the day that I picked up the free newspaper and actually found 3 things which did not aim at being funny but were.</div><div align="justify"><strong>#1 Mistaken identity lands IT professional in trouble</strong></div><div align="justify">Consider a young Indian IT professional who's roaming around one of the shady streets at 6.53 am. It is way past/too early for the time any good girls would be out on the street. So when he sees a lady walking down this street at such unholy hour, he naturally assumes that she is peddling certain services and since of this, he is certain- he proceeds to grab her and then to kiss her!! He is then chased and caught by her colleagues when they hear her shouts for help. Though he apologized and was appropriately fined- what got me was his plea that he was soon to be married to a girl in India and that they were to set up a software company. </div><div align="justify">Several questions come to mind- What time zone was he operating in? Has he heard of the word "propriety" or of the word "relevance"? What good is that last statement going to do? Or was he just trying to balance the scale and hoping that entrepreneurial instinct would kinda overshadow his abundant stupidity? </div><div align="justify">Actually, I'm plain surprised that the fiancee is okay to proceed with plans in spite of his morning misadventure.</div><div align="justify"><strong>#2 Gastrosexual is the new metrosexual</strong></div><div align="justify">This is from Britain-apparently, British men are spending close to 30 mins a day cooking and have ostensibly been inspired by celebrity chefs such as Jamie Olivier and Gordon Ramsay. </div><div align="justify">I am sure they have failed to record the 1 additional hour women are spending in kitchens cleaning up after the 30 minute typhoon has wrecked havoc in the kitchen. But interesting huh? Good looking and witty chefs have the potential to lure husbands into the kitchen. Now who's up for making over Sanjeev Kapoor?? :)</div><div align="justify">#3 <strong>Advertisement for Bottom Slim</strong> (which prominently displays the before and after cellulite versions)</div><div align="justify"><em>"My mom, my grandmother, my aunts all have bad cellulite. I did not escape this tendency too!I wear jeans and pants during hot days to work to hide my ugly thighs. My problem areas were so severe that I honestly thought nothing could help. But after 6 Professional treatments at Bottom Slim, things have certainly changed. I wore shorts to work yesterday, and it felt so good and amazing!"- Ms. Tan, 32 yrs old, Accountant</em></div><div align="justify">Gulp- I can not imagine why an accountant who's past 30 would want to wear shorts to work!! I'm sure her colleagues echo the " feeling good and amazing" sentiments.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-47862203527338475332009-08-02T01:32:00.005+08:002009-08-02T01:56:16.390+08:00FB-the laughter tonic<div align="justify">Funny that I should be getting this after extolling the virtues of FB just a couple of days back.</div><div align="justify">Message one from random person- <em>" Hi. Plz add me to your friends list"</em></div><div align="justify">My reply- <em>" Eh? Who the hell are you?" </em>(only people who are daft would mistake this for curiosity)</div><div align="justify">Second message from random person who turned out to be daft as well- " <em>Hi. Im businessman from gujarat. I am in civil line and doing laiozan work-i know some of good constracion company in mumbai.what about you what are you doing and you are from which place.from your face i come to understand that you are very sober woman and you are very soft neture and it is good for you. futher if anything pls mail me or contact me on <number>- Random person</em>"</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Sober and good natured. <em>(I have tears in my eyes)</em></div><div align="justify">No person in their right mind has ever called me that and if all goes well, never will. I'm wondering whether to edit the previous post and also put down FB as a laughter tonic? There is also the question of an appropriate response - since "who the hell are you" has resulted in a generous and irrelevant description of self and "Eff off" might not be understood, I'm in favor of ditching my usual sarcastic style for a more direct and blunt"Not interested. Buzz off" approach.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I need to share the story with M now- I hope he laughs harder than the time someone on orkut called me a genius person! :)</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-32979655491088696412009-07-29T23:13:00.006+08:002009-07-29T23:44:25.705+08:00You know you have landed in Delhi when...<ul><li><div align="justify">The last disciplined and synchronized activity you see will be the seat belts coming off before the airplane has made a complete halt and mobile phones buzzing to life before the aircraft doors have been opened.</div></li><li><div align="justify">The sullen guy at the "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-paid taxi" counter repeatedly mispronounces your name the way only a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Haryanvi</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">jat</span> can. </div></li><li><div align="justify">You see taxi drivers soliciting the "long distance <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">sawaari</span>" from the 20 odd passengers whose trolleys are bumper to bumper, lest someone cut the precious queue.</div></li><li><div align="justify">When you hear more abuses laced sentences in 10 mins than you heard in the last 10 days. (this is the part when the glamour from "kabhi pyaar mein gaali deta hai" from Delhi-6 comes undone)</div></li><li><div align="justify">You have every reason to believe the taxi driver when he narrates the grand conspiracy theory which implicates the guards who allocate taxis to passengers, the cops who book those who won't pay the guards and the drivers who pay the guards to get the more lucrative passengers.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You can't quite decide on what is causing you greater trauma- the sound of 100 horns trying to beat each other at the game of cacophony or the sight of seemingly every other man who thinks that scratching self in public is as natural as breathing.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You marvel in disbelief at how wide the roads are compared to the excuses Mumbai commutes on.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You hear the punjabi on the streets, in the neighbourhood and on the radio station and realize how much you missed it.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You see fat aunties typified by dripping diamonds and still haggling with the kabaadi for 5 bucks.</div></li><li><div align="justify">Talking to old friends and discussing old favorites such as PVR, Big Chill and Flavors is about the only important and urgent thing in the world.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You are home and wonder why you left. </div></li><li><div align="justify">You read about water shortages, electricity problems, 20 rapes, some dozen robberies, water logged roads, cracks in bridges- all in the same day.</div></li><li><div align="justify">You wonder when you'll ever truly return.</div></li></ul>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-91095303004516349322009-07-22T19:56:00.003+08:002009-07-22T20:43:58.833+08:00If you hate FB, this one's just for you!<div align="justify">In the last few days, I've heard too many rants against Facebook-on how it is completely stupid and how people are wasting time updating status messages and playing dumb games etc. </div><div align="justify">Truth be told, I'm a regular and frequent Facebook user- the kind who update their status prob once a day and are thankful to FB for reminding them of friends' birthdays, the kind who don't take stupid quizzes and who ignore all application requests, the kind who like the fact that FB has brought distant friends back in touch and their life's experiences closer through photographs. </div><div align="justify">The following is dedicated to the Facebook haters and their myriad reasons.</div><div align="justify">If you dislike the concept of social networking and people spending time as per their choice, well, you might be better off taking up another cause instead of getting millions of people to change their minds.</div><div align="justify">If you can't stand others updating their status message, please get a little savvy and open your eyes to a feature called "Hide"- hide that user or your entire friend list. If you don't really want to know what a friend is upto or are irritated by all the fun he/she is having- well, maybe that person does not really belong in your friend account. Also, if you continue to read the status updates and yet keep complaining, you are either hypocritical or just plain lazy.</div><div align="justify">If you are concerned about lack of privacy, please use the security settings and allow access to your profile, info and pics only to individuals you trust enough or don't put them up in the first place.</div><div align="justify">If someone is stalking you, block them and report abuse.</div><div align="justify">If you don't like the idea of the whole world reading your message to a friend, don't leave a wall post-send them a private message instead.</div><div align="justify">If you think your kids are going crazy over FB, well, monitor, screen, filter- in the same way that you do for other internet sites, mobile phones etc. A good measure of judgment, advice and trust should work, right? And in any case, no matter what you do, the next generation will find ways of beating your system. Getting yourself familiar with new means of communication will only help you assess benefits or damage better.</div><div align="justify">If you think FB is making mails and calls obsolete, you might find your thoughts resonating with those who said the TV would make print obsolete- different methods of communication can co-exist, especially if they serve different purposes! </div><div align="justify">If you can't bear FB, close the account and bid adieu- there are millions of users and one less is not going to hurt anyone. Least of all, you. If you are on the site, you are choosing to click-unless, someone is holding a gun to your head and insist that you get socially connected. If they are, you should consider getting help.</div><div align="justify">Facebook is not perfect- there are way too many weirdos sending you friendship requests. Traditionally strong lines between work and fun, business and pleasure, family and friends are getting blurred. Tweens and teens are getting seriously affected by the site which make them measure self worth in terms of their friends lists and number of wall posts. People are getting obsessed with doing things just so they can report on them through their status updates. And yes, it's surprisingly easy to take the cleverly constructed mirage of a good life for reality. </div><div align="justify">But then guess how real life is turning out? Our communities, our groups and our social networking sites are only a reflection of how society is evolving. You can either sit in the corner and sulk because no one told you the world is changing or you could be out there, recognizing teh change and and trying to adapting to it. The choice between denial and participation will always be yours.</div><div align="justify">In short, if you don't like facebook or the other social networking sites- stop whining, stay away and let others FB in peace. While on your way out, please collect the winner's goody bag-it contains a typewriter, a gramophone and a VCR. The committe had recommended a laptop, an Ipod and a blu ray player, but then we thought obsolete might suit you better.</div><div align="justify">ps- If you hate Orkut, I don't blame you. The site sucks :P The ratio of losers: decent junta on that site crossed the permissible limit roughly 1.5 years back.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-64763646383887829592009-07-13T21:32:00.006+08:002009-07-13T22:17:55.098+08:00The Leap<div align="justify">So there's this list that I made at the start of the year- stuff to do before I turn 30. </div><div align="justify">I made the list in January and the opportunity for that first tick came in... January! After which there was a lull- at least with respect to the list. And then I lost the list-sure I retained about 40% of the items in my head but a list pruned down by half aint good enough and I couldn't just make a new list. So I searched high and low and then gave up and then almost as always, the list turned up when I was looking for a completely different thing. So the resurfacing of the list is going to be marked by a record of that first tick on the blog and by active efforts in accomplishing the other 29 things on that list. </div><div align="justify">The list is not known to anyone but myself and this is by design. Most of the items are in my control. There are some that relate to others- family and friends. Some of it is plain outrageous stuff which does lead me to question my state of mind when writing that list, 6 months back. But well, the ink is spilt on the paper and it is nothing but my mortal duty to obey the letter. It promises to be fun :)</div><div align="justify">Oh yes and here is proof of accomplishment of my first task- The Bungee Jump!!!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357945760986661650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ENKPJQI73sz0vKawN1h7n3dTmTilM3HsPAyJpugg6eh5CEALe-I267fZIpNerFK9Amr-h1qB0HLGFr2J4imTuF3I5PvNJWJ-e1S3BccohUGcv-yra9M4ALt5RrbUeisAlSm3AA/s200/SK-leap+of+faith.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Kawarau Bridge, New Zealand</span></em></strong></div><div align="justify">There are those who hesitate; those who look to the familiar face in the crowd for support; those who succeed a person who broke down and gave up; those who follow a person who swoops down like an eagle; those who scream their lungs out and then there are others who do all of the above. But it does not matter because once you have fought every cell of your body which is telling you not to jump, braved a height of 43m and just walked off the ledge after saying " Dammit. I can do this"..... you'll still be mighty hilarious to the crowds who take pleasure in hearing you scream "Help me" after the jump's done and as you are about to be brought down into the boat. That the crowds who witnessed the moment of truth include the husband, who made for an elegant jumper (in the words of the AJ Hackett folks) and who by the way, also recorded all of this on video, do not help the respectful cause of bragging rights. </div><div align="justify">What was funnier thought was the family reaction:</div><div align="justify"><em>My mom: "You shouldn't do insane stuff like this."</em></div><div align="justify"><em>My brother: "Did your contacts not fall out?" (yes- that is the first thing he asked me)</em></div><div align="justify"><em>My brother again: " Be careful"</em> <em>( this is <u>after</u> I've done the bungee yeah?)</em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Would I do it again? The adrenaline rush is completely worth it and I have a very persuasive adventure buff for a spouse-but at my core, I'm a scaredy cat who can be described as risk averse. So the short answer is, I don't know. The fact that I'm willing to consider doing another bungee, in itself marks a significant improvement over the "me" of past. </div><div align="justify">Here's to 29 more such life improving measures.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-42858516289237598542009-07-06T19:42:00.003+08:002009-07-06T20:05:31.601+08:00Happiness is...<div align="justify">.....staring out of the window watching little drops of rain bring out the true green of the leaves.</div><div align="justify">.....reading his mind and being halfway through the preparations for pakoras and tea and meeting the request with a triumphant and knowing smile.</div><div align="justify">....treating the senses to the sputter of the batter in the fiery oil, to the ascending aroma of the spices and to the tone less high pitch mix of shrieks and mercilessly wronged lyrics of a popular song.</div><div align="justify">....the division of duties between the two which sounds better as a concept than in practice.</div><div align="justify">....ending up with dark-as-devil tea because the chemical engineer ran out of milk but yet decided to throw in half the tea container into the brew.</div><div align="justify">....presenting the pretty plate of fattening fritters complete with ketchup and serviettes</div><div align="justify">....playing Scrabble with the left hand coz the right one's too busy supplying mouth with pakoras.</div><div align="justify">....whipping the self proclaimed champion's ass so badly that he scrambles the board at the end so you can't take score.</div><div align="justify">I'm a superhero and my secret power is winning at Scrabble while eating pakoras when its raining outside. </div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-34947715213027011962009-07-04T14:20:00.002+08:002009-07-04T14:29:35.970+08:00Pappu pass huaThis news release is accompanied by much joy and pride, as also the realization that mugging up for exams is my core competence. I've passed the basic theory test- the first step in getting myself a Singapore driving license. That the test was completed in 12 mins and that it followed only 2-3 days of random prep are facts that I put here only because today they seem brag worthy.<br />I will shatter this illusion of genius that 1% of people reading this might be veering towards, by producing one question from the test that cracked me up:<br /><em>On approaching a zebra crossing, you would:</em><br /><em>a) speed up before any pedestrians appear</em><br /><em>b) Slow down and check for any pedestrians</em><br /><em>c) slow down and let the zebra cross</em><br /><br />The other questions were tougher. Ok? :P Wipe off that grin now :)Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-10556304516827805312009-07-01T20:20:00.003+08:002009-07-01T21:11:18.985+08:00Jaws like that<div align="justify">It began as a mild discomfort near my right ear and jaw-something that I could dismiss and yet get on with life and sundry socializing. However by Sunday night, it had outgrown its discomfort status and assumed the bigger role of minor pain- at least one that ensured that I couldn't sleep on my right side. </div><div align="justify">By Monday morning, it seemed like a small mutiny by my facial bones, nerves and muscles that led to a sorry swelling around the joint which further gave way to immense pain as I struggled to chew breakfast.</div><div align="justify">The situation was dire enough to warrant a call to the beloved hospital whose sole redeeming factor is the proximity to office (it's just across the road). </div><div align="justify">Frantic me: "Could I get an appointment with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ENT</span> specialist?"</div><div align="justify">Dorky girl: " Wait <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">aa</span>". " Let me check for you"</div><div align="justify">FM: .......</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">DG</span>: " But let me check with you first....what is wrong with you?</div><div align="justify">FM: *a variety of things could fit in as appropriate answers* " You mean why I need an appointment?" I went ahead and described the pain etc.</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">DG</span>: "So what is your diagnosis?"</div><div align="justify">FM: ???!!!! * at this point <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">DG</span> became Exasperating Girl. If I knew how to diagnose, I'd attached a Dr in front of my name and not waste my time on the call, yeah?* " I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">don't</span> know why or what has caused this but I am interested in curing this and which is why I need the appointment"</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">EG</span>: " <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ok</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">aaaa</span>. Let me check for you"</div><div align="justify">FM: ........*are they measured on how many times they repeat this phrase during the day?"</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">EG</span>:" There is no appointment for today. Tomorrow can?"</div><div align="justify">FM: No- there's too much pain- I need to see a doc today- what do you suggest?</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">EG</span>: " Then you can go to the A&E department"</div><div align="justify">FM: "What's A&E?"</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">EG</span>: "Accidents and Emergencies department"</div><div align="justify">FM: "Are you sure? Isn't that for more serious cases?"</div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">EG</span>: "It's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ok</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">lah</span>. It's 24 hours. You'll get to see a doctor."</div><div align="justify">FM: "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Ok</span> then. Thanks." *for nothing?*</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">So that was how I landed up at the emergency department of this hospital. Now, unless you've been on a space mission or something, you would know that this is possibly the worst time to visit a hospital- especially if you sneeze every now and then and have also been overseas in the past 7 days. The swine flu precautions meant that at least 4 different people checked on my travel history, my temperature, my flight number, my address, my contact number and every other piece of information that I could reveal through my miserable jaw. I almost got sent to the communicable diseases centre <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">coz</span> of a mild sneeze- it was only after I assured the nurse that this was just a silly dust allergy that she finally asked me to go wait inside for someone to attend to me.</div><div align="justify">And so I waited, feeling rather guilty- there were old folks on wheelchairs, some people on stretchers, but for most part, the place was rather empty- sure, there were others who seemed quite all right but by sheer glance condemned me for infringing my undeserving ass on what was rightfully, an emergency chair. To prove that I belonged, I started wincing a bit and also made intermittent gestures to support my jaw. Truth be told, it was paining but since there was no obvious external injury- I felt quite unqualified to be sitting there. Thankfully, the nurse yelled out a nice distortion of my name and I proceeded to volunteer more information while my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">BP</span> was checked. The funniest question was " What is the degree of your pain"- it was a 10 smiley scale which went from a sheepish zero for "None" to a wailing 10 for "Intense". I debated and judged my pain at a Mild 4.</div><div align="justify">I think that was a bad move- I had to wait another 30 minutes to see the doc, who spent all of 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">mins</span> looking at my ears and referring me to an X-ray. Now the X-ray guy was obviously in need of some entertainment in life and since radiology is not exactly E!, he decided to amuse himself with specimens such as moi. Out of the 8 x-rays that he took, the last 4 deserve special mention. I had to lie down with one arm straight ahead, the other by my side,with my head looking up and my knee folded: all this for my jaw??- I really think they supply some of this footage to candid camera! In any case, after the 70 min wait, even I was in need of some entertainment- so I obliged.</div><div align="justify">Anyhow, 20 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">mins</span> after the X-ray, the doc summoned me only to tell me that since he was no expert at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">ENT</span> matters, he would prescribe some painkillers and try to get me an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">ENT</span> appointment for the next day! </div><div align="justify">After a morning of pain and silly encounters, the prospect of sound sleep induced by painkillers can fill your mind with such joy! However, after 11 hours of sleep you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">don't</span> really feel much except heavy disorientation. Sure the pain's gone but so is any sense of time or purpose.</div><div align="justify">I'm no closer to finding out how this silly pain started in the first place- I've been assured by a competent doctor (my mom) that this will go away in 2-3 days and that I should stop worrying.</div><div align="justify">The worst part is the impact this has had on the only happy constant of life- food- regular crunchy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">munchy</span> food has become a bit of challenge- I've been asked to have only soft food- soup, porridge, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">khichdi</span>, the likes. And so I veer between <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">cerelac</span> and mashed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">khichdi</span> and my brain switches between infant and geriatric modes.</div><div align="justify">The one silver lining in sight is some unintentional weight loss that may occur as a result of this soft diet. Till then, it will be all bark, no bite. For the biatch in me, no respite. Jawly good, I say.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18640358.post-79623726964987479392009-06-26T11:14:00.004+08:002009-06-26T11:55:28.266+08:00On my playlist<div align="justify">You can think of this as the filler post when I feel compelled to write but when words do not oblige. So I make do with my most material friend and report on what it plays for me. My top 5 for today:</div><div align="justify">1. <u>Poker face by Lady Ga-ga</u>: It is an addictive song that enters your mind and refused to be uprooted. My only regret is having watched the video: someone get that girl a stylist who makes her look good or a video director who shoots a better video.</div><div align="justify">2. <u>Rehna Tu from Delhi-6</u>: The lyrics are a killer and each time I hear this song, I catch myself wondering how a song dedicated to a city can feel like the most appropriate dedication to M. "Kabhi neem neem" from Yuva comes close though it gets a bit coy at times.</div><div align="justify">3. <u>Maula by Atif Aslam</u>: This is one of my favorite running tracks-gives a whole new meaning to getting to the destination. Something on the lines of U2's "still havent found what I'm looking for". Especially true when the restlessness at not having figured out purpose and lifemap, has not ceased. Credit to Panda for the introduction to the song.</div><div align="justify">4.<u>Boom Boom Pow by Black Eyed Peas</u>: The lyrics are silly but then this is one of the kickass songs that packs in such a punch that you can't help listening to it-the bass creates the same impact as a 'dhol' on your heartbeat.</div><div align="justify">5. <u>Paper Planes by M.I.A</u>- This is my favorite song on the album. Delivers the right level of angst and recklessness that a life on the street will witness. The dark undertone makes it delectable.</div><div align="justify">************************************************************************************</div><div align="justify">On a side note- has anyone watched this ridiculously bizarre piece of advertising for Amul Macho or some such chaddi-baniyan brand- it starts with how men are bowing down to women in every situation that was traditionally male dominated (e.g. karvachauth moon viewing, the arranged marriage tea tray scenario, eve teasing in bus, bike ride with brake for sufficient contact...you get the picture, yeah?) and then the pleas of the "abla Indian male" are finally heard and he gets a boon in the form of a banian- that too in a temple no less. Instructions from higher powers are to "stop this nonsense and become macho". The guy dons the banian and takes bold steps towards a gang of girls who are appropriately scantily clad. (Of course, the sheher ki ladki wears a hot red dress to a temple at night, didn't you know?). The swagger inducing banian also enables the guy to make lewd gestures and cause the gang of girls to shriek. Having put them in their place (beside the guy, with apsara like servile gestures), the guy faces the camera and the Voice over tells us " Yeh toh bada TOING hai". </div><div align="justify">WTF?</div><div align="justify">Kill me now.</div>Quirky Quillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01108815045067725917noreply@blogger.com2