Speed sales

Fighting with plump aunties for salwar kurtas that will make me look like a Christmas tree, as early as 10 AM, left me drained. The exhilaration of getting bargains was cancelled out when I discovered that my credit card would not work- cash please! So I went to withdraw money.

Last time I got suits from here, they were useful. People keep getting married unexpectedly, so at least this way I won't have to scramble for suitable outfits. Sale shopping is best done in twos- so that one can hold the fort while the other scouts around/tries the outfit/finds a mirror which has some face space.

Had to keep taking rounds, as discarded stock was put back on the racks. A useful filter is to dog someone whose taste you like, so that you can pick up the ones that don't fit her/she doesn't like on second thought.

Speed dating must be similar. Instant decisions have to be made, before the kurta in question weighs your arm down. In both cases:)

The Death of Blogging, the Birth of Twitter

Read an article today in the New York Times on how blogs are dying. The younger generation prefers Twitter. Although Twitter's great for sharing links and thoughts, it's not as satisfying as a good long blog post I can get my teeth into.
Twitter's a Hi! and a blog's a how are you? the one that friends can take half an hour to answer. If Twitter's 20-20, a blog's a Test match.
A blog tells you more about a person, the way she thinks, speaks, and writes. In a tweet, I'm always conscious of the fact that I have only 140 characters. Reminds me of the STD calls earlier.
A blog can be thought similar to a magazine, while a tweet is akin to a newspaper. Although Twitter may be more social, a larger ego boost, what will you tweet about? That's where a blog can come in.
Although I still believe brevity is the soul of wit, short blog posts seem like a good compromise between a tweet and a post which is closer to article length.

V- Day

Valentine's Day. A day we singles regard with dread. The very air seems sickly sweet, mocking us as we breathe in.
I remember the hicks who used to invade K-nags when we were in College. I warned my brother to be careful (he's in Delhi for Valentine's).
This year, a friend got a rose on Rose Day. Airtel informs me that today is Propose Day. The run up to V-day is gaining mileage this year, the supporting cast getting airplay as V-day fatigue sets in.
We used to go out in a group on V-day, in College. I like the Ebay ad---self-love, self-indulgence, so what if no one sends you gifts.
I don't think love really needs a day. It's on our minds 365*24*7 :)

So simple...

Sounds right...will try. Weight loss focus hasn't worked so far, focusing on health may!

this seems doable...

Next time, I'm fighting myself...will just eat :-)

So true...from Holy Kaw!

Data which proves what we've known...TMI

Is my favorite acronym now- Too much Information! So what if a tweet is 140 characters, have you tried adding the tweets you read in a day?

Facebook and Eliot

To prepare a face to meet the faces we meet...

Tweet tweet, i know you have another woman...

On the perils that twits face...

To women over 30

I take it back. I liked Turning 30! It was eerily similar to my life so far. Loved the bai...she reminded me of Malti di. OMO...I miss you. She does cry a lot in the movie, something which is tough to understand for someone who hasn't gone through that level of heartbreak. Saw a woman protagonist I could identify with after a long time.
It's a more important issue for singletons still, I think. If you are well set on the career ladder, totting kids, or happily married, this milestone isn't so scary.
What if you're alone, stuck in a job you dislike, unhappily unmarried? It's all in the head. We all know people who are unhappyily married, who whine even if they are well set.
We should be more than what we do, or who loves or doesn't love us. Rather than living in a vaccum, waiting to be filled by a job or a significant other, we should fill it ourselves, bit by bit, minute by minute. And before we know it, it will become a habit.
I know some wonderful thirty plus women who are single. Some say men feel threatened by their success. Others are vertically or horizontally different. Still another is the stereotypical man hater.
How have they coped? Some are single in the city, others live in parents. Still others live in the same city as their parents, but separately.
They're all great fun to be with. More so than many married women i know, who can only talk about their children, maids, and houses.
We do maid talk too, and house talk. Some of us are close to nieces, nephews, and strange kids.
While I'm on the subject, I know some fantastic 40 year olds, people in their fifties, sixties, and twenties.
What do they all have in common?
Cognitively, they're as fresh as children.
When I was twenty, thirty seemed a long way away. I promised myself I would write a novel by then. So far, i have a few short stories. I'm already planning goals for the next decade.
40's the new 30.
The twenties are for dreaming. I think the thirties are for rediscovering those hopes, and working towards making them come true.
We've learnt to be more self reliant, but also realise we need people. Occasionally.
Even physically, age reflects what you think.
yours,
29+

Maya, the Screen

Turning 30! is to be avoided. Wish the same was possible with actually turning thirty. A thought- mental age differs from physical age, like kairos differs from chronos. There is good kairos and bad kairos- by which I mean, events which give us pleasure and events which sadden. The latter is better from a growing point of view, but not one we submit to willingly.
Reading The Penguin Edition of The Upanishads, specifically the introduction. Got interested after listening to Parthasarthy speak on the Isha Upanishad. Prefer these to self help books, which nag. The Upanishads merely glory in the joy of God, wanting you to experience the same. Treating others as if we were all one, what a simple way to do good! More as I continue on the journey.
We live as we dream. Alone. Conrad.
Inner life must be lived alone, like we die alone. From the afore mentioned introduction.
Poetry and religion are even more similar than psychology and religion. So even more interesting to me! Reading a book I felt like marking after a long time.
Both must be felt, and are tough to describe. Another line I liked from the introduction- poets make the abstract concrete. So do the Upanishads.
It's a pity religious questions make it tough for them to be taught in school. With a science driven world, we just haven't kept up. We can't declare ourselves obsolete. Technology will just have to wait while we understand ourselves.

Happiness is a sum of many things. One of them is being needed. You can be needed if you work at something you're good at. I have a dream. A dream with deadlines is a goal. Resilience gives you faith that you can achieve your goal. Here's hoping, knowing that yes, I can. Affirmations help too.

The polo final was an unforgettable experience. Barefoot, turbanned Manipuris in red and green put up an exhibition match. Then Black Gold played the White Knights. Dashing horses, Sandy Cash ( who we later discovered went by the more prosaic name Sandeep Kashyap) and the other players shouting with raised mallets made it exciting. The thud of the horses' hooves, the thud of our hearts as we tried to spot where the ball went, kept us jumping in our seats.

Upping the stakes

Airtel sent me an SMS today saying that I have been subscribed to a Baba Ramdev pack and I should call this number to unsubscribe. Spam is one thing. Spam that needs you to take action another. I hope this doesn't become a trend.
After calling the number, the voice asked me whether I was sure I wanted to unsubscribe. Cheeky !@#$%.

sivamani

Went for a performance by Sivamani. He made it interactive by playing on a suitcase and a water camper. Pulsating beats, which resonated with heartbeats.

Metros in metros

Just took the metro. Crowded even in the middle of the day, the Calcutta metro needs a makeover. I realised it was unsafe after I got on. Survived the brief ride without incident. Ladies only compartments like in the Delhi metro would help. The windows were half down too.

Mirchians

Mirch was watchable. A hazard of short stories is that they are episodic, specially when they are one after the other. Identification with a character for a sustained period of time becomes difficult. The stories from Panchatantra and Decameron were folk tale like in nature. Would be tough to incorporate the superstitious attitudes the twists in them hinged on, in modern stories. Unless, of course, magic realism was used. The third story's denouement seemed a little weak logically. I liked the last story's comic elements which Boman Irani personified. Women viewers would naturally like the agency taken by the protagonists in all the stories. They all revolved around verbal dexterity rather than brute strength, thereby confirming another stereotype. Still, even considered as tales by themselves, they were fun. That's what going to the movies is about at the end of the day.

Gair Zaroori Log was a gair zaroori play.
Yaar Bana Buddy was painful. The actors went on ad nauseam about a Rs. 1 crore ghada. The title tune was tacky TV serialish. Very against the tone of other plays in Nandikar's annual festival lineup.

never knew Ecuador was so rich in birds