Brave

All princess need not have that flowing straight hair or the graceful walk or the Charming prince and Disney has showed us precisely that in its latest animated movie, Brave. 

Growing up, there was never a Disney princess I wanted to be like. Disney simply did not care to make a Princess with Wild unruly hair, a huge appetite and an innate stubbornness to do things her way, maybe Ariel was a bit like that, but Merida anyway is an antithesis of most princesses. Today while watching the movie I wished I was 10 years younger, but anyway at last I found my favorite Disney princess. As they say, it's better late than never.

Which other princess would ask a wish to 'change her mother', and ends up changing her mother into a bear, for all those who know me, it's something they all know I am very capable of doing. That is another very important aspect of the movie, it's not everyday that you get an animated movie that explores a mother daughter bond like this one does. 

The humour in the movie will well spaced and very nicely inserted. The Scottish Kilt joke is given a new 'look' in this latest Pixar flick. 

Unlike all the other Disney movies, there is no stalemate prince charming in this one. So much so that the Princess vies with the other suitors for her own hand, yes, she is just as wild an unruly as her curly red locks! The music and the accent in the movie were very original, refreshing and pleasant. A must watch if you like animated movies.

 I take Merida's words very seriously,

"If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?"

Maybe a good thing before I head off to Jodhpur to begin my final year of college!

D.E.L.H.I

I vaguely remember the first time I ever set foot in Delhi. We were on our way to Nainital and had to take a car from Delhi to Nainital. It was mid-June, and from the minute I set foot in Delhi, I hated it. It has rained the previous night and it was humid and sticky. The journey from the Airport to the Bank of India Guest House in Karol Bagh was, well, hot and sweaty. I swore I'd never come back to this place, and I remember my Old man just laughed.

Many years later, well not that many also (exaggeration is a writer's prerogative), I found myself back in Delhi. And again. And again. And another time.

Delhi to me is an enigma, the place is brilliant. The people, well, I am not a big Fan, really. I like the metro makes my life easier. Well only yesterday we crossed two states to go visit Bharatendu and experience "Zindagi ki Maze". Yes, by Metro only.

It is as called by many people the food lover's paradise. There is all kinds of food here, maybe that's what happens when many different people from many different countries come and settle in one place. I have been lucky enough to have eaten most of the delicacies Delhi has to offer, whether its Paranthewali Galli, or Big Chill or Nizams or the Myriad number of places that there are.

One thing I have noticed is Delhi people love dressing up, going out and EATING! True that. Dressing up on Saturdays to go to a Mall seems to be the 'in-thing' here. Well, that's another thing I've done this time scouted almost all the Malls that there are in Delhi/Gurgaon. I have also seen the stereotypical Punjabi Aunty, who is actually pretty sweet.

I think Delhi is beginning to grow on me now, the metro rides, the old book shopping in Daryaganj, the absolutely FANTASTIC winters, and the amount of Culture and INDIA HABITAT CENTER will surely overshadow my bad experiences here, and also the HOT summers. I will cherish forever the times I spent here with my friends, and I guess one day I ll eventually not mind living here, and maybe fall in love with this place.

Incomplete

Something's missing
I can sense it everyday,
in every passing minute
and in every painful second.

The feeling erupts
like a wave of nausea
like yellow bile
from the insides of my being

I try to ignore it
I want to move on
and leave it all behind
in the past where it belongs

Sometimes I wonder
through vacant nights
and sunny mornings,
If I move on,am I leaving
a part of me behind?

To Be or Not to Be : The Problem of Making a Choice

Sometimes in our world we face what I'd like to call a problem of making a  choice. Maybe life has always been throwing stuff at us, and till a certain point we are able to choose what we want, but that does not always happen. When we can't choose what we want that's when we know that we are in an abyss as deep as the Mariana Trench. Yep, we find ourselves staring at the seabed, just confused. And everything around us seems to be working just fine, and people around us seem to be managing their lives just fine.

We have always been choosing, from the time we were babies. What food to like, what dress to wear, what people to hang out with, what movies to watch and what books to read. As we grow older, the choices get harder, and with each choice we make we have the ability to influence not only us, but also others around us. It's not always choosing between a good thing and a bad thing, its about deciding what we want and why we want what we want.
As they say, life is a bitch, often we want things that we know are bad for us, but then again, as I just said earlier, life is a bitch. It's like every choice we ever made helped in making us who we are today, right now, at this very moment. Easiest choices are those that generally hardly have any impact on our personality, but I think it's the harder ones that contribute to making us who we are.

Bad choices. All of us have made some at some point or the other. But it's the good choices that we made that we ought to be proud of. Imagine if Sachin chose to become a Doctor, or JK Rowling decided not to write and look for a stereotype job. As we grow older the choices we need to make become more and more complex. As I said in my earlier post, growing up comes with added responsibilities.

The choices we make have to made keeping in mind not only us, but also the ones we love. Our choices may sometimes hurt the ones we love the most, but that does not mean that the choice we made becomes a bad choice.I guess sometimes in life, we have to do, what we think is the best for us. There is a whole wide world around us, it's upto us to choose if we want to go out there and make something of ourselves.

So if you make a choice today, think it through before you actually make it. You should not regret the choice you make today, when you are 80, with 9 teeth and a bald head. Why am I being all philosophical? Well I am 21, and I am almost in my final year of Law School. The choices that I will be making in the next 6 months will probably have the power to shape the next 40 years of my life. Am I scared? yes, I am petrified, but then again there is also that feeling of intense excitement which makes my back tingle, my heart skip a beat and makes me say, Life, BRING IT ON!

I promise I ll be more regular in updating my blog! Cya next time people. If this sounded like some psycho-babble nonsense, I promise my next post is going to be a funny one. :-)

Waking Up

What is the best feeling in the world? I think it is knowing that you are completely free, free from doubts, free to do anything you like, free from telling you what to do, and most of all, being independent. Everything we do from the time we are very little prepares us for that one final moment when we spread our wings and take off. We all are like little Birds, just waiting for that one day to take off and see the view from top.I guess the world does look more beautiful when you look at it with being accountable to no one.

Ok.Scratch that. My head was still waking up when I wrote that melancholy crap. This semester is definitely different from most of the other semesters. I think it's more fulfilling. I have been able to do a lot more than I have been doing in the last 7 semesters. Maybe that's what they meant by 'Do what you love and love what you do.' Boredom is something I haven't been felt in a while, neither am I feeling tired, would I want to live my life like this? I actually would not mind.

My love for books throughout my life has just prepared me for this I guess. I am not sure there are a lot of people who's hearts would bleed when they read a badly written book. Mine does. Books are a medium of spreading joy, just as much music is. They helped a little girl spend all the 'extra' enthusiasm she had wrapped up inside her. I want all little girls across the world to feel what I grew up feeling. Yeah yeah, I know, this is the Digital Age, and all that jazz but then again, isn't it better to read a real book than stare at a laptop or even a kindle? I like the sweet smell of new books just much I like the smell of old Red Wine.

You can call me old fashioned but as a very good friend of mine said, 'A piano is not old fashioned, it's classic.', even though he said it in the context of Classical music, I think it applies here as well. Talking about music, I have finally learnt how to play something on my guitar, yes, the same one that I got as a birthday present. Now it's about time to introduce to you Aphune Kezo (a.k.a Appy), she is a friend, and brilliant singer and most of all my awesome guitar teacher, and singing buddy. More on that in another post. Right now it's time to run to class, Ciao.

So we're Grown ups now, is it?

When I woke up on the first day of this year, the one thought that ran through my mind, was WHERE'S THE MAID? THE APARTMENT IS IN SHAMBLES! It's funny how quickly time seems to pass, isn't it? Just a few years ago, my biggest worry in life was, well I don't know probably, what if I am unable to learn the new song that my music teacher teaches me, sigh. Now, almost everything in my life is a cause for worry.

It seems as if time has just passed by, and I am still playing catch up. The other day I was talking to my friends when suddenly one of them says, 'Kids these days....'. WAIT. STOP. WHAT ARE WE? Grown ups? As Meredith Grey very famously says "When did that happen?". Yes, when did that actually happen? Where was I when it happened?

I am a grown girl, I was told by my lawyer, that its high time I sat with him and learnt about the family affairs. WAIT, WHAAT? I am still in college, and what AFFAIRS does my FAMILY have? Its like everything around me has calmly accepted my progression into GROWN UP-hood, except me. To everyone around me, I am a grown up, to me, I just  got old. Maybe its like what Inayat said, Growing up and growing old are two completely different things. I felt like I was catapulted into a completely new and unfamiliar world filled with a strange new feeling called Responsibility, and another one that follows slowly, Accountability.

It's a little unfair, people who readily helped you just a few months ago, will now expect you to be able to do everything and anything without the tiniest of help. Instead of worrying about what movie is on TV, you think about how much money there is in your account, and other connected things. It's like what one of those forwards say, when you are young you wish you'd grow up, but when you actually do, you miss the time spent munching  chocolates. Vicious cycle, I guess.

Things change so much from the time you are kid to the time your grown up, you generally tend to feel a bit let down. Like for instance, growing up, I always wanted to be able to pay with cards, now that I actually do, it really isn't such a big deal. I expected to have an adrenaline rush, the first time I signed on a card slip, nope it's like signing anywhere else.

Since I did reach the place I reached, I guess it's time for me to make peace with the strange new world around me. But then again, "We grew up? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?"

Lessons learnt in a Luckless Delhi Day

In life there are some good days, some very good days, and then there are bad days, and obviously there are very bad days. Yesterday was one of the worst that I have seen. Yes, it was those days you see in movies where everything turns out wrong. Though in the movies it always ends with everyone smiling, yesterday was just a bad day.

I reached office at 1045, a good 15 minutes late, only to realise that my pretty red wallet was missing from my bag. It took me a minute to digest the fact that my wallet was indeed stolen. So there I learnt my first lesson of the day: NEVER TRAVEL IN A JAM PACKED METRO.

Then I called up home to get my card blocked, and my Grand dad told me that some cash had been already withdrawn from the card. Sigh. Call it a twist of fate, or whatever you'd like to call it, I had given my other ATM card to Thara. Phew! Now I have some money in Delhi.

Second Lesson of the Day: NEVER EVER CARRY ALL YOUR CARDS WITH YOU.

My friends at work had various theories as to how the money could have been withdrawn, ranging from Romilla's 200 rupee machine which can find out ATM Card Pins, to Thara asking who else knew the Pin and finding out he was the only one. Look at the irony of that.A few minutes after that Tribikram makes his point again : ALL METROS ARE BAD. Trust me, he has his share of Delhi Metros. Actually for more on that you should talk to Bharatendu.

Third Lesson of the Day : NEVER BE ALONE AFTER LOSING YOUR WALLET, BE AROUND FRIENDS LIKE MINE, WHO WILL GIVE YOU AMAZING AND MINDBLOWING INSIGHTS INTO HOW THE CRIME WOULD HAVE BEEN COMMITTED .

Later in the day, Thara and I decide to watch Puss-In-Boots, and Bharatendu as usual ditched us. We google the timings and the places, and find out that it's playing in Big Cinemas in CP. We while away an hour in the Mall next to our Office after work, and finally reach CP. After walking all the way to D Block what do we see? We see that the only two movies playing in Big Cinemas are Desi Boys and Dirty Picture. Just my Luck, ain't it?

Fourth Lesson of the Day: ALWAYS CALL UP THE THEATRE TO FIND OUT IF THE MOVIE YOU WANT IS SHOWING. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO CALL UP, DOUBLE CHECK ON ANOTHER WEBSITE.

So heads hung in dissapointment, shoulders down we made our way to the Metro Station and finally reached Patel Chowk. We got off, and Thara bought socks! Yes, socks at an amazingly cheap price.

Amazing Discovery of the Day : YOU NEED NOT ALWAYS SPEND A FORTUNE FOR GOOD SOCKS!

So, he went his way and I went mine. I was walking the same route I take everyday. I almost reached YWCA, when I realised some guy was walking behind me. I quickened my pace, and two minutes later, he started mouthing obscenities. I walked even faster and so did he, and I could make out he was drunk. He was reeking of Whiskey. My heart started pounding in a way it never did. All that I had read about Delhi not being safe for women started running through my head. I started looking for autos and there were none to be found. There were hardly any people on the road as well. The guy was still following me, and he kept asking me to wait and talk to him.

Then, I reached the Bus Stop, and this lady from my Hostel was there. It just took her a minute to realise what was happening and she started yelling at that man.PHEW! These two random men at the BusStop started beating up that man, and I was horrified, I mean I did not want him beaten up also. I walked back to the hostel with that Lady, my saviour.

My last lesson of the day : I really don't know. What happened to me there, could have happened to anyone anywhere. I should just be a little careful, and if he did anything start screaming as Bharatendu was telling me today. Maybe I should buy that Pepper Spray, that Aditi advocates. It's just the feeling of absolute helpnessness of that moment, of those terrible two minutes, that seemed to last an eternity that shook me.

So does yesterday make me hate Delhi?

I dont think so. Yesterday could have happened to me anywhere. I dont claim to love Delhi, but Delhi does help me learn a lot about myself, and a lot about the world. Delhi brings out another side of me. It yesterday was soo bad, today was really nice. I could sit in Max Mueller Bhawan Canteen and talk about yesterday, only shows how beautiful Delhi is. It can help you wipe away all your yesterday's tears. For the foodies out there check out Cafe Goethe in the Max Mueller Bhavan on Kasturba Gandhi Road, great Chicken Dum Biryani. I really liked it, and the best part a meal for two will cost about 150 bucks!

I still love the Metro. I am still game to going all the way to drop Saumya off in Gurgaon just for fun. I love the fact that while walking to the Metro Station in the mornings I get to hear lotsa things from how to run for President to how to cook Achari Ghosh. I love the fact that  I walk past buildings where important decisions are taken everyday.

Would I be ok with living in Delhi? I am not so sure. That will take me sometime. I dont think I can ever get myself to say, " I am from Hyderabad, but I work in Delhi."

So, in hindsight what was the most precious thing I lost yesterday, I lost the opportunity to look at my favorite photo of my mum on her Birthday. So here's a little request to the girl who stole my wallet :

If you do have my wallet, please return the pictures that are there in it. They mean a lot to me.

You can use my other Metro Card, it has some 70 bucks in it.

(This post is dedicated my Mom. Happy Birthday Mummy, wherever you are. I miss you.) 

Blessings are Counted!

"Count your Blessings" she said calmy. I stared at her blankly and almost cheekily said, "Really?".

A month or so later, when I went to the Missionaries of Charity in Jodhpur, I realised how right Ammamma was. So one very sunny afternoon, Gargi, me and Saumya went to this Home for Mentally Challenged Girls on the outskirts of Jodhpur as a part of our India Redefined program. We collected almost an auto full of clothes, and other necessities from our college to give the children there.

The Sister who we met was kind and humble, and showed us the entire place. She knew each child personally, she knew their problems, their history, their eating habits, and also their tantrums. The children were very happy to see us, shouting and screaming with joy, shaking our hands, and this one girl even hugged Gargi. Each of the girls there had her own story, her own sorrows, and her own world. Most of all they seemed happy to be there. The trip finished off with us taking pictures with the girls, and yes, even our photo hating Gargi smiled nicely.

While we were on our way back in the auto I could not help but think of Ammamma's words. I felt privileged and loved, and the whole excercise made me realize how lucky I was. Thanks Sukku, and Thank You India Redefined.

Some posts do not need a title.

Music is powerful. Music unites us; maybe all countries should just have a MINISTRY of MUSIC. Yeah, this is my theory, pass a law saying that every citizen must know how to sing or play a musical instrument. Those who do not shall be prosecuted. I for one believe there is music inside everyone. So moving on, people who can appreciate (for the lack of a better word) are happy people, and happy people fight no wars, and that, ladies and gents, is how you achieve, WORLD PEACE.


All this thought process came into force after my amazing one day at the Rajasthan International Folk Festival. Another music festival which reinforced my long standing belief, which has been proven again and again, “The purest music comes from the most untouched lands.”

How many of us have heard of Reunion Islands? Yet on Friday night a crowd consisting of people from the US, the UK, Europe, Africa and Asia ( I am pretty sure there were a couple of Aussies around) sang along, whistled to (well, we tried) danced to the beats of a man from this very island, off the coast of Madagascar. Davy Sicard and his band rocked the crowd! What soulful music, what amazing stage presence; he managed to convey the pain and anguish of colonialism in the music of the sea.

In most places, most art forms are passed on from generation to generation. It’s not everyday that you see three generations of a family on stage performing. Shakar Khan Manganiyar was on stage performing with his sons and grandsons, all playing this instrument to me looked like a combination of the Veena, the Banjo and the Violin, called the Kamaycha. His profound exploration of ragas in his alaap just reflected his expertise and also his years of experience, and his deep knowledge.

Music transcends languages; it makes you one with complete strangers. How else can you explain two brothers from Egypt (Joseph Tawadros on Oud and his brother James on Egyptian percussion), and two Kazak (Slava Grigoryan and his brother Leonard) brothers coming together in Australia as a band with a classical guitar, an electric guitar, and two very Egyptian instruments. Their compositions were supremely creative, and very catchy. Also impressive in this segment was Joseph Tawadros’s slapstick comedy, we realised he is just as much of a joker offstage when we met him later in the Mehrangarh lift.

Their jugalbandi with the Kamaycha playing Manganiyars of Rajasthan showed how beautiful and captivating Fusion music can be, if both the forms of music are blended effectively, yet ensuring that their original character remains true. (No, Dave, not like the time when we butchered Mahaganapathim, and the only person who liked it was Lin. Had my Grandma heard it, she would have chased us through the streets of Hyderabad with a Veena in her hand. True). Whether it was Davy Sicard inviting the Manganiyars onto the stage to perform with him, or Jason Singh’s beatboxing with Raies Khan’s Morchang, late in the night, fusion is all about both the artists understanding and respecting each other and their music.

The night ended with us dancing to Rajasthani Folk Group Dharohar’s performance featuring Jason Singh, listening to Jumma ‘Jogi’s poetry and vocals, and then again dancing away till the early morning to DJ Maga Bo who played beats from all parts of the world.

The next morning, having spent the night dancing at the fort, saw us at sunrise in Jaswant Thada, a little way away from the main fort, where we listened in rapt attention and wonder to Pt. Hariharsharan Bhatt on sitar (from Jaipur, Rajasthan) and Pt. Brijbhushan Bhatt on violin (from Alwar, Rajasthan). When Pt.Hariharan closed the morning’s show with my favorite Bhajan, Vaishnavo Janato, I did not feel leaving. It was a night well spent.

Music will not fill that void in your heart, that is something you have to do for yourself. Music only gives you the strength to try to fill it. It will always be there for you, it is beautiful and sacred. It will help you to try and help yourself to pull yourself out of any shit life has a habit of throwing at you. It will help you appreciate the value of the things or people that you have, and not those that you lost. Most of all, it helps you move on.

I guess I’ll close this post with the following:

“Some people believe in God, I believe in Music,

Some people pray, I turn up the Radio.”



(In the memory of the fine man who taught me how to enjoy all the good things in life, and made me what I am today. And also was one hell of a friend, mentor, and father. R.I.P. Daddy. You have no idea how much I love and miss you. Thank you, for everything.)

Happy Independence Day

“Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.” Ok. Stop. Now.

This is not your typical Independence Day article about India Shining and how it’s become the IT hub, and the entire world is coming to India and all that jazz. No. It’s not. If you want any of that, my blog is not the place to be. You can leave right now. Go! Go read some very pro-Government newspaper which talks about India. So yeah, Go!

If you are reading this, then I am assuming that you came here to read a 20 almost 21 year old’s view of India. As someone who grew up in the Globalization, Privatization and Liberalization era, I can safely say I have seen India change, and my, what a change it was. But, is it what we really need?

I am sure you remember my earlier post about Prof.Smith saying India’s a country of contrasts. After 21 years of living here, I can say its true. It’s been 64 years from the day of the above mentioned great speech, and even now when I order food from DMD, or go to eat in Cool Palace it’s a little boy, I am sure who is very much under the age of 14 comes to deliver food or serve me food. Irony, ain’t it? Considering that I live in a Law School “A premier educational Institution”.

When my car stops at a Traffic signal there’s little boy painted silver like a Gandhi Statue comes begging. Yes, dressed like that same Father of Our Nation, who went around fasting so that the British give us Freedom. Irony, again.

What exactly does the phrase ‘developing nation’, mean? How long has India been developing? What is developing? Is having maids to clean your house and paying them a pittance development? Is abusing your driver development? I dunno.

Child Marriage was abolished before independence, but a recent article I read in the National Geographic tells me the story of a little girl who was married off in Rajasthan. Yep, in Osiyan town, two hours from where I live, two hours from the Premier Educational Institute which is training lawyers to be the protectors of Human Rights!

My college like other institutions of its ilk had a little ceremony to commemorate the occasion today, what are the three top reasons for people attending the function:

1.      

My Friends singing.

2.       I ll get free food.

3.  I might win Best Dressed.

Yep. True Story. I am not saying that there weren’t people who actually went out of patriotic feeling, but this was the general observation.

64 years on, buildings have become taller, the rich have become richer, politicians have become more corrupt, the poor have become poorer, there’s McDonalds and KFC now to prove that we are becoming like the West, obesity is on the rise, reading and writing are almost on the verge of being things from the past, we have phones to call our friends in New York/Sydney/London, but we don’t have the time to talk to our own neighbors, we are consuming more alcohol, so I guess we are ‘developing’. I hate to say it still, this is soo ironic. I am not too sure that this is the India that Nehru imagined when he was making the above speech.

India man, its not full of contrasts, as much as it is full of ironic semblances of its glorious past.

I wrote about what I see through my 21 year old eye. Not the truth, just what I feel.

Happy Independence Day.

Die Pigeon, DIE!

Sometime a ago I had written a post about lizards being the most annoying pests in NLU, well, I was wrong. Until then I did not have the chance to come across, or rather be affected by the presence of another pest in the campus, well I realised I had met my nemesis here, no it was not moots, not public speaking, not drafting memos, but Pigeons! Yes, those disgusting, ugly looking two legged birds with red legs and red eyes, who the hell has red eyes, anyway?

I have heard of a boy who actually bought an air gun to try and shoot the pigeons away! And my ever shining beacon of hope, who actively encourages me in my every pursuit (does not!) , told me that the pigeons have a tendency to find a way through the mesh, and end up dying in the balcony! Yes, trust him to talk like that, and I did not pay much heed to that warning, when I should have.

The pigeons took a while to figure out the existence of my hostel. By the time they did that, I had to be one of the unlucky ones who did not have the presence of mind to get a mesh put in the balcony, and as a result spent an entire semester with a pigeon colony in my balcony. At any given time there were atleast seven to eight pigeons perched on my balcony grill, every single day. I gave my VI semester finals listening to pigeons cooing, and watching this big fat monster incubating mom pigeon sitting on my cooler, which I could not switch on courtesy the Pigeon Colony.

There were times when I used to feel that the mom pigeon was watching me with angry eyes, when I was loitering about my room instead of studying! True Story! They are everywhere in the corridors, in the bathrooms, sometimes according to a few girls, staring creepily at them. Ew. They reproduce at an unbelievable rate, and there are eggs every few days in every other balcony!

And so, the minute I got back to Jodhpur this semester, I called a carpenter and got a mesh put in my balcony. All seemed fine for the first few days, and despite several heroic attempts no pigeon was able to get into my balcony. Fort Knoxx was secured, or so I thought. One morning I woke to hear wings flapping in my balcony, I looked in only to see a Pigeon flying around in my Balcony! Fort Knoxx breached! I ran to SN Halls at 6 am to find a bhaiyya, who valiantly went in and threw the pigeon out, and sadly he did not put the mesh properly in place!

I did not notice that, a few more days later, paid dearly for it ( literally!). I was returning from class oneday to see a flock of pigeons in my BALCONY! Yes! There were 4 pigeons in my balcony, or so I thought! I met Vinnie on the way who offered to go into my blacony and try to shoo the pigeons away! Well she came up and went in bravely to my balcony and whoosh! six pigeons flew up! and Vinnie ran out!

I panicked, and called SN halls to send a bhaiyya, and Vinnie and I waited half and hour for the "Pigeon Warrior" to turn up and save KungFu in my balcony. So after an hour and a half of trauma, my balcony was safe! And I called up the Carpenter and yelled my lungs out at him, and paid another one to finally put the mesh in place and fasten it in place. And so now, my balcony is safe. Atleast for the time being.

I believe in Music

It's a sunny day in Jodhpur, and I have just returned from class, and switched on my laptop, and decided to listen to some music. I opened Media player and Last Kiss by Pearljam started playing and it made me realise what a great thing music is. Music is something that has always been a big part of my life, whether its my love for singing or having a minor musical celebrity at home, or my wonderful and very radical Carnatic Music teach who encouraged us to listen to and appreciate the beauty in all kinds of music.

As I finish writing the above paragraph, my Media player who seems to always be insync with my head, starts playing a beautiful renderation of 'Seethapathe' by 'Nookala'. Khamas is a wonderful ragam and has a soothing effect. Nookala's amazing exploration of the ragam in the alapana has never failed to enthral me and he is one person who I know I respect. You can almost hear him becoming one with the music that he is producing. Maybe that was what they call divinity.  

I know my share of musicians, and the ones who I respect the most are the ones who have the ability and the passion to create music of their own. I have seen Ammamma going into those phases where she's making music, it's a beautiful thing to watch her sit with her  regal Bobbili Veena and spend hours composing new songs, and I felt honoured to perform her songs in my recent concerts. She is one of the few composers of the present day who makes secular music, yes very rare in Carnatic. I only hope that one day I'll be even half as good.

And then the player switches to Colorblind by Darius, which is one of my favorite songs. I think the song has a great lyrical value, and the music is really good. Yes, thats one debate I have with my teacher always, who feels that lyrics are not as important to a song as the music itself. I have always and will always disagree ( maybe that's the writer in me acting up) I think both the lyrics and the music are equally important. Whats the point of having miraculous music if the lyrics don't manage to convey the message.But that's what I think.

I think music is, apart from food, the way into a persons heart. Music touches you where words cannot possibly go. It made me a lot of friends, I love all the times I spend singing with my friends, Karaoke or otherwise :). 

Po achieved inner peace with Kung Fu. I think I know how I'll achieve mine. I think it's the feeling you get when after practising a song for hours, that one time you sing it, after singing it a million times, that you know its perfect. You know that one time, you have that song in your heart, and you and that song have become one. I think that moment ( which is hard to come by for me) is when you are at peace with yourself. 

Music has helped me deal with some of the most troublesome times in my life, I dunno what I would have done otherwise. I think my feeling about music can be summed up into these following few lines which are a part of the 'theme' of 30 Seconds to Mars:

                        

                        Some People believe in god

                        I believe in Music

                        Some people pray

                        I turn up the radio!

And my media player appropriately starts to play Sultans of Swing, one of my dads favorite songs :) Yes, I miss him.

Peace.

The truth about being Gay

Jobless is what jobless do. In my supremely jobless stint in Delhi, I met an equally jobless co-intern who watches dramas and soap operas and also listens to pop music from the far east. Thanks to that very nice person, I started watching a Taiwanese Serial and a Japanese series. But no, that is not what this post is about. This post about about how two girls when left to talk on Gtalk can come up with amazing and often mind boggling ideas.


Today is my last day in Delhi, and I was online talking to Aditi and also watching a Japanese Serial. We were randomly talking about how sucky our lives are at the moment, and I was dreaming about the moment my grandparents are due to arrive in Delhi tomorrow morning, and how my life will significantly improve one they are here. Well anyway in the middle of all this, in the serial, there is a guy sitting in a plush chair,wearing a silk Robe, and there are four people tending to his four limbs giving him a Mani-Pede (for those who don't know its Manicure and a Pedicure). OMG!


I quickly convey this to Aditi, along with this I also tell her my other conclusion (which shall not be written here), and there's a little talk about the serial and the guys in it. Then Aditi comes up with an amazing query. 


How is it that Gay men are supposed to be feminine well lesbians are not supposed to be, well, manly?


Come to think of it, maybe the media is to blame for it, like it is to be blamed for the rest of the stereotyping, you generally know a gay man when you see one. Whether it's Cam and Mitch in Modern Family or that adorable Lloyd from Entourage, they are all well, girly. I am not saying there are no exceptions like that football player in 90210 who Ted falls for, or for that matter even Teddy. But then when you see a serial like the L-Word you don't actually see those woman and say, oh they are lesbians! nope!!


So what is my point?


Well my point is that even a gay guy looks for the same characteristics in his partner, that a straight man would look for in a woman. Think about it, all the effort and money spent on expensive suits and colourful and bright clothes. While the converse is hardly true for lesbians. Most lesbians dress and talk like straight women.The thing is girls are able to retain their girlyness even wen they are into other girls but men have to inherently assume the characteristics of the opposiite sex even to attract their own sex that means, well sadly, ALL MEN ARE INHERENTLY STRAIGHT!


So that means when Gays or even straight men fall for a person it's generally a person with female characteristics! But when a straight woman likes a guy she likes him for his inherent masculineness, but when a lesbian woman likes a woman she likes her 'cause of her feminineness. Well, that makes all women essentially Bisexual. 


So next time you see a Gay person, think, is he really gay?


P.S. Thanks Aditi for a jobless morning.


DISCLAIMER : THIS POST WAS NOT MEANT TO HURT THE FEELINGS OF ANY LGBT PERSON AND THE AUTHOR DEEPLY RESPECTS YOUR CHOICE, AND DOES NOT MEAN TO OFFEND YOU IN ANYWAY.