Adventure Island

Loved the Flip Out ride at Adventure Island- being turned upside down really gets your adrenalin flowing:) Also liked Side winder, bumping bars, jhoola, splash down.

Vitruvian woman

Josh spots.

Top management...

...draws Venn diagrams.

Art of Negotiation

Learning while earning.

I love shopping

When it rains good things, it pours. Am beating inflation by shopping at USI sales.

Dr. Jones Dr. Jones, calling Dr. Jones...

This Indiana Jones was a shadow of the earlier ones- but I got nostalgic remembering how mom n I caught the festival in Cal.

Skills summary

College

How to analyse

Never give up.

Bschool

MS Office operation

Googling skills

Work

Never give up.

Data management

Those who can, do. Those who cannot, consult.

P/review

Noone should get married before they are 40. Thus spoke a playboy I met on a plane, thus confirmed Sex and the City. Witty, touching, with gorgeous men, this is a must watch.

Dessert

Treating my cousin at Mystic ball, I sampled lingo as well. Rigged is the female equivalent of ra**ed. Can't we do better?

Shopping

We hunted in pindrop silence, our eyes scanning our prey. The only other time I remember such silence happening is when we eat.

Unfortunately, SN does not allow us to try on our loot. Of my 9 purchases, I only liked one.

But I had such fun:)

Ed!

I've always felt education is the single biggest enabler anyone can have. Broadening it's scope is essential. Kids are bright, even when they are called slow or don't do well in class. It's often confidence or an inappropriate teaching method which is at the heart of the problem.

I love teaching because the results are so immediate- it's like producing brands, watching them grow and become independent. I'm usually learning hindi as a byproduct:)

Game khel raha hai

The May issue of HBR had an article on leadership's online labs. It's true, I've learnt a lot from games and do feel that simulations can motivate people to visualise themselves in roles involving greater responsibility.

How open companies would be to using games on a larger scale than they do, is the question.

In Defense of English Honours

Support came from an entirely unexpected quarter- the Times of India. In yesterday's main section- not even Education Times- I saw a headline designed to gladden my heart- English (H) the most sought after course.

What delighted me was that the article was substantially correct- namely, the course develops your analytical skills, you end up studying history, sociology, anthropoly, economics along with good writing.

It's heartening that people have now begun to recognise that.

Not that I took it for these reasons- I just loved literature, then discovered most of my class had taken it for the same reason. We were in collective anguish in third year when the party came to an end.

Studying about minorities and being in one- that too, a minority of one- in bschool were two entirely different things. Sometimes I too would think that my major in College was a waste from a vocational point of view.

Liberal arts- whether history, philosophy, economics- to a lesser extent did help us become more articulate.

Passion is by it's very nature, inexplicable. I had difficulty understanding how someone could take up history or philosophy. I guess therefore on some level I understood why my bschool batchmates looked at me as if I had horns.

But at the end of the day, passion makes it all worthwhile.

As Langston Hughes said, What happens to a dream that dies?

We must resuscitate them.

Or be dead men and women walking.

Goan Sunset

Sun streaked sand

Liquid gold drops of sun

Drip down the throat rills of sands

Sun butter spreads on

Octaves of waves.

It's been a while

Enjoyed reading friends' blogs so much I got in the blogging mood.

Watched an Italian play, Yerma- the music was very dancey. The freedom of the whirling washerwomen seemed in stark contrast to the daily life of women in reality. The uninhibited laughter may only be possible on stage. Otherwise, Yerma's feeling that she is filled with poison and bewailing the lack of a child got on her husband's nerves as well as ours.

Khamosh! Adalat Jaari Hai had us rolling in our seats. The indifference of the men to the pain of the woman again showed that this was a Vijay Tendulkar play.

Also went on a walk to the Hauz Khas monuments. Now whenever I pass them, my neighbours seem different, with stories and histories.

Ludhiana English, where I was called the Nupur, Tashan style, left me speechless.

Am thoroughly enjoying my new role: Planning- and touchwood, doing well in it too. It's fun to strategise, problem solve for clients, identify differentiators. It's blissful to finally be in advertising, notwithstanding the ungodly hours. Considering 80% of our waking time is spent at work, it makes sense to do something you enjoy. It's been a while since I worked hard and juggled multiple variables simultaneously.

Mangalorean cuisine is delectable, though the name of the mushroom dish escapes me. A Shetty I know called herself mangy:)

Spencer's is done up so well- I love the carts with cars.

Play

Watched Feisal Alkazi's After Dark. Original humour is tough to do, but he does a good job. I'm not a fan of different stories running simultaneously. When they connected though, I felt a little better.

Beachcombing

Bangalore bus rides

Goa pool sides

Beer feni waves wallop

Spring rolls scallop

Paragliding jetskiing

Banana riding upturning

Sunset squelched sand

Deaf to work demands

Blissful dissipation

Divine recreation.

Shacks

Goa's good.

Atonement

Mr. Monosyllable

Sorry I'm so voluble.

Contemporary Poets

I also like Wislawa Szymborska's work. Wish my ouvre was not so limited.

Plays Pleasant

Watched Habib Tanvir's Agra Bazar and Ponga Pandit. Enjoyed the sitcom, slapstick, song and dance; specially as the former was in open air.

Time after time

Listened to a couple of choirs yesterday. One sang Hava Nagila...we had sung that fifteen years ago.

Am now officially feeling older:)

Energy

Hell and Illuminations, which showcased Rimbaud's poetry in dramatic form, opened with masked dancers. His poetry is very Romantic, his images sweeping and he also gave voice to Ophelia. We travelled all over seas with him, as he swept us along. He "has inherited from his ancestors, the Gauls, lust, magnificent lust. Sloth too."

The Indian dance movements which seemed to be interludes came across as forced, however.

डर के आगे जीत है

I was told once that when you point a finger at someone, three point back at you.

They’re called Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.

You can create, maintain or destroy your status quo.

Ebrahim Alkazi: Life & Times

Ebrahim Alkazi, the Father of Theatre in India, received a Lifetime Achievement award from the Delhi Government. He took us through his life's work- using photographs on a projector.

A perfectionist, the scale on which he envisions and executes performances is consistently immense.

Among some of the anecdotes he shared, were Nehru's bodyguards rushing to protect him when actors were doing a "मारों पकडके मारो " scene from Dharamveer Bharti's Andha Yug at Ferozeshah Kotla. Nehru warned him that there were snakes at old monuments, something he discovered to be true at Purana Kila.

The photographs of the performance of Karnad's Tughlaq at Lal Kila were imposing. The fort came alive with the men who were attired in the outfits of the age. The steps were carpeted. They belonged to the fort, owned it, seemed to have lived there forever.

On another occasion the guilottine on stage collapsed. The hysterical actors had to be hospitalised.

Choreography of the women in Troy was also stunning. They circled the protagonist, echoing her grief.

The stage for King Lear in Sahitya Akademi was a bare room. The corrugated iron sheets used were deliberately rusted. Alkazi's attention to detail came through in all his productions.

A particular tree in the Akademi area attracted him with it's "character" and he staged several open air productions there. One of them was Premchand's Godaan. He built from a photograph of a villager sipping from a लोटा - he wanted to show the spirit of survival as embodied by his sinewy arm.

In Mumbai, he asked the landlord of a building that he liked for permission to do theatre on the terrace. Several water tanks were removed, Mumbaikars trudged six floors up to see his productions. As the stepped seats where the audience sat were directly above the dressing room, all comments on the productions could be heard.

For a production of Tennessee William's Suddenly, Last Summer- a "vicious, terrible play" Alkazi got skulls of animals butchered by his cook and perched them on the terrace stage for the desired atmosphere.

A man with a cult following, it is a pity he has not done any productions for the last twenty years, preferring to paint.

A recluse now, it was a treat to hear his adda on theatre and how he had shaped it.

Kudos to Ms. Shiela Dixit for this idea of hers, or else we may never have had this opportunity to learn about this horse from his mouth.

Male got me

Every man
Should read Anne
Of Green Gables
Guys watch cable.

Pi

I liked Life of Pi. A fantastical tale, I felt the narrator's terror. I admired his courage, as he fought his fear. It took me to another world. Vernon God Little is not as absorbing.

Howler

"दीदी, क्या rebel का मतलब उसने फिर से bell बजाया?"

!

Obfuscations

Claudio Magris's reading on love's grammar- love has no tenses, but many moods.

Moods and clauses are not my strong point, I generally skip them when teaching.

Jibber Jabber

Utilised my holiday to write for 4 hours (felt quite proud of myself, don't know how much of it is any good). Also did my summer-winter wardrobe shift, which I had been dreading. When I reached late for gym, my coach said that he thought I would be keeping the Shivratri fast. yeah right:). Attended the Almost Island Udayan Vajeyi & Bei Dao reading at IIC. Udayan's poetry revolved around family and had a strong astronomical flavour- the Hindi original had a punch the English translation lacked.
Bei Dao's poetry was reflective, perhaps reflecting Chinese culture. I liked his images-like, the two brother hands of the clock made an acute angle.
Rushed home to watch Desperate Housewives, only to realise it's not a Sunday.

Useful Poem by Borges

You Learn
After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning

And company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts

And presents aren't promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn...

That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth...
And you learn and learn...
With every good-bye you learn.

Roundup

Confrontational talking helped

"Lunch's on me," she yelped.

Ackack

Jodha Akbarally's wrestled their way
Leads pumped full of lead Mandalay.

A pic

Bought Cilappatikaram yesterday- it has some lyrical descriptions- brows like Cupid's bow.

Tipping Point

I thought it dealt with epistemological breaks, a la Foucault, but I was pleased to discover it was more hands on. it cited an idea I had had, am waiting for more to emerge, as did post Why we buy.
Think Amrita Pritam is more palatable in the original.
Tumhari mein haari
Puttar?

Biblio

Bought Borges, Semler and Amrita Pritam at the World Book Fair. visited three halls. I liked the setup. Will return next week.

I write nothings about the same
Only because I know you came.

Mahon, Masc.

Derek Mahon’s rightfully one of the top 10 writers of today. The minute I saw him, I knew that he was someone special. Photographs are distant.
His poetry, specially the fresh ones he read from Goa, made me feel good inside- after a very long time.
As a translator too, he captures the flavour of the original very accurately.
An Irish poem on a game of cards played between a man and a woman with brows “like two strokes of a pen”, the skull shaped coconuts of Goa, the ceiling fan that went “round and round” brought freshness back to age old subjects.
I like the way he rhymes with sense, his poems are deceptively simple but pack a lot of thoughts and ideas.
I’m looking forward to his return, perhaps at the Jaipur Literary Festival, which may be where the Irish Literary Festival goes next.
“Never a day without a line.”

Love dovetailed crow blows
Night bowtied, daggered days wane
Still bleeds weeds kama gardens
Tears on drip trip trickle steam
Chug hug lunge to the loam
That you feed, house louse.

Space, the final frontier surrounds me
I warm in the air you breathe out, see
Blanks confront this shooter from the hip
My gaps fill with sonnet lumiere trips
As tastes ash, pink stinks, press flesheaters.

As this sun spreads red across an inked sky
Sets, defeated, that this time too, met not yours
Hides from my wrath, the night consoles
With mere manmares to snare my soul.

As I watch her flail my soul
I stop myself from running to
Catch her before she falls
She is outside me and the world’s now.

As we trail knowledge from opposite bends
I wonder whether Columbus’s world is round.

We share a sun, not sunny signs
The moon shows us her same side
Stars lit up equal hemispheres
Can I hopscotch on them to there?

As my soul unwraps itself daily
For thee to see what I be
I strip, unpeel to reach the core
When I know you are the shore.

As I fill my joint days
With aphim that is not you
I highjump over curdled hurdles
Only to fall in night’s moonsweats.

Whether I pause the world
Or myself
I see the same.
Whirlpool eyes that sucked me in
Where I circle, learning to swim.
Warring with oneself
Defeats the purposeful.

My thoughts tiptoe around you
Scared to breathe you in life
When they clatter, mind loses matter.

A day in the life of a tiger

is worth a thousand as a sheep.

Chinese proverb.

Open Baithak Biradari featuring Bob Holman

Bob's hyperactivity reminded me of Robin Williams, whom I like only in films. The Challenge was an innovative way to combine the regulars with the new- Bob would respond to each poet with one of his own. I enjoyed Badshah's poem on the tiger- how it returns to the sunset and curses us with an Ice Age.
Taught exchange rate in hindi-hope my student passes her boards. Some of what I teach is guesswork. Terrific strain on the brain.
Finally finished Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man- which I had bought at the last book fair. It had it's moments but I found it tough to read it for more than an hour at a time- which is unusual for me.
New coach at the gym is making me work out with a vengeance- feels good.
was also fun to meet a woman writer- Claire Kilroy with two others at the Irish Literary festival. Over red wine, I asked her whether she connected with women wroters differently. She agreed. Men write women incorrectly often, because they look at them differently.
I liked the reading of the children's book The Boy in the Striped Pajamas best. Think my attention span has not progressed much:) Another listener shared my sentiments, finding it the most readable. The Information Overload Age has had many side effects.
What struck me was that they write so much- 8 hours a day.
None of them read from what they had written on Ireland. The world writer now seems to be a reality.

The Hungry Spirit by Charles Handy

I had picked it up at the Walden sale but then ended up giving it away before I had time to read it. I read the first page online.
Coincidentally, it talks of how "In Africa, they say there are two hungers. The lesser and the greater. The lesser refers to food and sleep. The greater to the question Why?"
Titillation, often seen in art today, caters to the former. It was well treated by a Ruchika production I saw a couple of years ago, which I described and a team member agreed to, as being like a souffle. A frank discussion of family's different ways of coming to terms with their varying sexualities, it was funny without being heavy breathing.
Just laughed nonstop for a while, watching a friend chase two others around the lawn.:)
Look for the bear necessities
Mother Nature's recipes
Forget about your worries and your cares
The bare necessities of life will come to you.
Jungle Book.
Don't like the story I wrote any more much. But I had supreme fun writing it.

Penultimate weekend @ Theatre Utsav

Past is Stimulation was wistful, with a gauzy green backdrop, similar to the outfits the women wore. A scene involving partial nudity evoked gasps of shock from the audience.

I liked Nati Binodini. The humour, the action which resulted from having multiple actors play the lead, ensured the subject was deftly treated.

Charandas was as usual delighful. The lead was impressive, as was the music, dance and other actors.

Burqavaganza was awful. Pakistan artistes used the burqa to make digs at everything and everyone, but the humour was gross.

Stay yet Awhile was yet another docu-drama which had Gandhi and Tagore.

Am taking a break from the festival for a couple of days.

Tokenism

Hiring women is only the first step. If no man likes to take orders from a woman, think of her. She has to take orders from men all the time.

Sugar daddies help. But when they withdraw support, it's back to square one.

CEO support helps too. But when they withdraw, one is once more alone.

New broom swept clean all the men I disliked. They shared a lack of commitment.

The one I did like, for his sheer engrossment in his work, is a blue eyed boy now.

Glass barriers are ones we constantly bump into, for no man really thinks a woman is more intelligent than him, can do his work better than him, or will eventually rule him.

New broom was manufactured in the same factory, so is also suave, polished, stiff upper lip.

Boring.

If wax dummies were any good, mannequins would make us move.

Breaks only underscore that nothing's changed.

Am sure that still, when Any Questions? time comes, no one opens their mouth.

Fancy flights

There is something about the womb of an airplane, the tribal attendants, the atmosphere which lets us enjoy soaring, staring as sun yolks trickle through blues.

Psyche derelict

I remember explaining Peter Pan's psychedelic pickup to my friends. Thankfully, Junior is not a fan of "pretty pictures."

Consumer citizen activism

Electronic goods crimes are on the rise.

As service declines, branding spends rise, consumers are brands.

They are striking back at the hands which fed them phones which do not work, shares that are not given in time, policies which are sold by omission.

Power is corrupting them absolutely.

They are organising themselves on an impromptu basis, taking advantage of the very loopholes used to exploit them- a sluggish executive.

Organisations still look at the low cost of angering consumers as inferior to trapping ignorant ones.

As the information asymetry sets itself right, will organisations reform?

Doubtful.

They still think youth will be disillusioned.

They do not realise that as youth gets the results it wants, by acting, it will see less and less reason to behave.

If organisations are run by the cognitively old, who want to cater to the young, using young media, icons, imagery-how will it's consumers be satisfied?

न किया तुने यह क्या किया?

Connecting people.

We call this

humane तेच्नोलोग

जी

That's not my compartment

Doesn't work. It's still your train of thoughts.

Having tried compartmentalisation, I can say it did not work then. The first six months of bschool, I ignored my grad identity, my College friends, my passions.

I got burnt out.

Integration too did not work. It led to heartbreak, recalling the inertia which had propelled me elsewhere, nostalgia.

A new identity, belonging to a new community, creating new events, newsletters, friends.

Now that helped. And is repeatedly working.

As I view another burnt out case reviving himself, clamped down memories, relationships I hope and pray for peace.

Nom de plume's dropped as the peacock unfurls.

कसम शायरी कि

और शायर कि भी।

From The Birthday Letters

from The Rag Rug

Somebody had made one. You admired it.

So you began to make your rag rug.

You needed to do it. Played on by lightnings

You needed an earth. Maybe. Or needed

To pull something out of yourself-

Some tapeworm of the psyche. I was simply

Happy to watch your scissors being fearless...

Whenever you worked at your carpet I felt happy.

Then I could read Conrad's novels to you.

I could cradle your freed mind in my voice,

Chapter by chapter, sentence by sentence,

Word by word: "Heart of Darkness,"...

I dreamed of our house

Before we ever found it. A great snake

Lifted its head from a well in the middle of the house

Exactly where the well is, beneath its slab,

In the middle of the house.

A golden serpent, thick as a child's body,

Eased from the opened well. And poured out

Through the back door, a length that seemed unending-...

Antigone by Motley

Naseeruddin Shah as King Creon and Ratna Pathak Shah as Antigone, Benjamin Gilani and others drew in audiences as they performed Jean Anouilih's version of the classic.
Clever in parts, static in others, the acting kept the play together.

Phedre in India, Phedre in Hindi

Saw a packed house at Bahumukh. People were sitting on stage too. The diya lit stage, live tabla etc, Indian dances and transgressive plot kept the audience riveted.
The queen falls in love with her husband's son.
A French woman read in her language while subtitles flashed above the stage. The internal dilemma thus came through very well.

Copeius note

Being Boring
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If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.
There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion-I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last,
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.
I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.
-- Wendy Cope

Aurangzeb

saw some impassioned acting. The cold in my head had taken me over, though.

Bamboo Blues

Pina Bausch's performance, Siri Fort: The yearning dance mirrored the plaintive music, the billowing stage. The sheer freedom, violence, trust between the dancers took stage turn by turn.

1st Weekend@ Theatre Utsav

Saturday saw Delirium by a Swiss group and Njinski, the God by a Polish troupe.

I liked the set, lighting, music and slapstick in Delirium. The story was more tell than show.

Njinski, the God too had a slick set, with competent dancing, lights and music. The constant homoerotic references took over the storyline.

Sunday saw an Afghani production of Caucasian Chalkcircle. It had a beautiful scene, where one of the women walks up a ladder with her babe held high, and men trailing sating on the rungs of the ladder as she climbs to its top. It reminded us strongly of Mary and Jesus, as a child in the audience pointed that out to his mother.

Dear Bapu by Mohan Maharishi had a trio standing around and reading. Very historical, the play showed shots from Gandhi's life as he spoke with Nehru. English with a smattering of Hindi, the play was more a documentary.

Butterflies are free, from China saw decent acting, a witty script and fast paced action. Although more like a film, which it has been adapted in, it still engaged the audience. Highlights were when the heroine reveals her wig and false eyelashes, surprising the hero and us.

Max Mueller showed a documentary on Pina Bausch, whose dance drama Bamboo Blues, inspired by Kolkata; (where she spent weeks recently) is on view today.

IHC saw a duo from UK read from Shaw's plays on Friday. Very lively, Shaw seems relevant still. The lady was indignant over his being ignored by UK theatre troupes. Even in his 70s, he wove a spell on a woman 1/3rd his age.

The only perfect love affair is on paper.

Ratan Thiyam's Prologue: NSD Inauguration Theatre Utsav

The Golden Jubilee of the National School of Drama saw Shiela Dixit and Ebrahim Alkazi on one stage. Alkazi's 30 years in theatre, 16 of which were spent teaching at the NSD, were recalled by his students and himself.

He announced 2 Rs. 5 lakh prizes from the Mrs. Roshan Alkazi foundation, for MK Raina and Hema Singh.

Alkazi spoke of how NSD needs to modify the course to include film, even if it means lengthening the course duration, as theatre all over the world, is not a paying profession by itself.

Ratan Thiyam's Prologue was stylistically flawless. The synchronisation of the dancers and the musicians was perfect. The stage, the costumes, the acting all ensured that the audience was involved despite the performance being in Manipuri.

Subtitles would perhaps have added to our understanding of the story.

As the three week theatre fest kicks off, with international productions as well as indigenous ones, it is interesting to note that the house full ones are Indian. Also, the 10 rs. tickets are most in demand.

Delhi's love for theatre is likely to be satisfied this month.

As was mentioned last evening, NSD has taught its students to fight.

The good fight.

It's raw now

Down the millenniums, wars have been waged for women.
Christ loved a sex worker- Mary Magdalene. His mother was Virgin Mary- an Oedipus Complex?
Why do we war?
We do not war for money. We are paid to exist. We advance when we pay others to wage war. The cycle continues.
We war for gain. Food and drink are needs we are equipped to satisfy.

Khan

SRK Chacha
Munnu tamasha.

As far as Art of War in my life goes, a la Steve Jobs, I can connect the dots post events. Last year, it was very relevant. Now, it is part of me. Everyone knows my workstyle. The element of surprise, key to victory is gone.
Keeping a low profile helps to hit the ground running. Spies too are useful, changing frequently.
General is new now- young blood, as befits the army he governs.
I will evolve as my role evolves- then new strategies will necessarily result, to adapt my environment to myself.
Working while waiting. Am back in the learning stage, so expect the curve to rise in a half year to a peak.

Art of War

Is one tome I return to whenever I am feeling particularly murderous. I like the way it is written- it leaves no room for argument. Diktats are listed without explanation. Having tried some of them out, I can vouch that it works- although I did not know I was applying these principles when I was:)

Some others are intriguing- cannot figure out how to apply them. Also, I do not know how to exactly use these principles for the projects I have in mind.

He advises an army to burn its bridges- so that there is no looking back. That's one I agree with- but although I found it easy to apply on the professional front, on the personal front it is taking me more time. I imagine, as usual, that for most other people- the reverse holds:)

Musing

It is comforting to learn that others have felt and acted the way I have.

Would love to scratch certain people's eyes out-but as I felt what they must have felt I guess there must be people who would love to do the same to me.

Does truth always win?

Perhaps, when we are dead and Maud Gonne.

मंच

नही.

Altos

Chappal

Round not

Mulberry bushy

Mincey wincey spiderwomen.

Desi maals

Goras listen to desis in the new world order.

Process orientation is apex, out of the box thinking not so.

As we move backwards, hopefully we will see you fly.

Dali's Univercity

Time after time.
Ticks on...

Lihaafed

Bought one at the Islamic exhibition- overpriced but smart- hope it's warm enough.
Basked in the sun and gossiped with an old timer on her terrace.
Got an even haircut and pedicure, so am having a good hair day.
About time too.

Peeping Toms

Dicks and Harrys
Up yours.

Shankaracharya

Vivekachudamani is full of gyan that I liked- perhaps because I have not come across this brand earlier.

How to tame the flesh, free the spirit.

I liked it.

King Harshavardhana the Great

Others being ashok and akbar

But as your name suggests

Maskra you are the leader

Elder sisters may be part mothers

younger brothers sometimes bigger

have wisdom beyond their years.

Quick to spot fakes, questions age

Jealous sometimes but always a rock

one leans against, confesses to

thank you for the birthday gift

Stories provide succour once more

As this storyteller needs mind fodder

Balam's ass assuming silent is not golden

Merely fool's gold.

Dickinson's

Heart, we will forget him!

You an I, tonight!

You may forget the warmth he gave,I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you're lagging.

I may remember him!

Routing

Servers such as artists

Thespians, painters, scripters

Are our escapes.

Do we translate them in

Pastoral leaders?

Poker

Makes one stronger and the other too.

BBluffing in teen patti

Is advisable when you have 5 aces.

Knowing thy enemy is useful too.

Flashmen

The first bully I met was at work. I did not take kindly to him. I became one in turn, looking at him; and was penalised accordingly.

The second bully I met was also at work. I did not suffer him gladly either. Telltales are even worse in my book.

Repeated bullying led to the same apathy my friend experienced.

Peer bullying, bullying by minions was also not tolerated.

While I do bully still, and am bullied, I still know it is an inferior people management tool. It decreases productivity, adds to resentment and harps on memories.

A hunger for books by Doris Lessing

Her Nobel prize acceptance speach dealt with how the children of Africa have no book of their own.
As the Internet revolutionises communication, imagination has new tools- for good or bad.
As corporates march on to rural heartlands, their goal are still very different from their consumers' hopes.
The risk averseness which habitutates elephants extends across organisms- whether it be front, middle or top end.
Risque is so much easier to compehend.
Once playing safe becomes a habit, it percolates across layers- top and bottom.
As kicked upstairs, downstairs and in our ladies' chambers, no one cares.
For business for everybody is business for nobody.
And we are perfectionists.

Horseriding

Chinese whispers

Whimsy calls stirs

Pumping pumpkins

Pink's primary colours

of our loves.

taller now, wiser

Princess, queen

of our hearts

bubee's arts.

BarCamp 3 Delhi

Was very enlightening.

Although the room I attended had very gassy presentations on how to blog in the morning( Digital Inspration was only semigaseous), matters improved post lunch.

Prashant's analysis of the blog scenario in India & outside was incisive.

The design presentations on mobile websites were also well done.

The yahoo mashup and google options as used were also innovative.

felt eerie to see an ithink developer speak of something I had added barely a week ago on fb.

Web marketing for the underprivileged as a job option to BPOs was also an early birder.

Shopping in waves rounded off gyan sessions for yours, truly.

I still think the thrill of bargaining in open air beats cold soulless malls hollow.

People seem to agree- I only saw footfalls in discount stores and the food courts.

Bru stall saw me shell out Rs. 80 for coffee I doubt I will make, only because I will get the corresponding amount off on the next PVR flick I watch.

Bluetooth, quizzes and samples saw me put my money where my mouth was.

College plays @ Old World Theatre Fest

As the name suggests, much of what was on view was old hat.

i was not impressed by Village Wooing, Pygmalion Likely. Although the acting was good, it was set in another era and space.

effie's burning was much better. The acting did justice to Valerie Windsor's script.

However, I feel that if it had been done in Hindi it would have been outstanding.

Much like Dattani's Final Solutions when performed by Asmita was so much more charged.

College Reunion

ld was gold and is becoming elektrum.

The 50s saw Mrs. Rajpal onstage.

the 60s were represented by mr. Baker et al.

The 70s too had their stalwarts. Overseas birds flew in to speak of the ones abroad.

Joy Michael was one of the Old Girls.

Stephanian couples, those who met in College and without were also awarded.

the oldest Stephanian- 1933 spoke of when Intermediate students were at Kashmere Gate, still opposite Hindu.

90s were there of course, and so were we-the Millennium Batch.

As we saluted SIR aka Stephanians in rajasthan, as Ruchi put it, when we step in College, we feel as if we are coming home.

Memorabilia was available, but what we made were memories.

Juniors elaborated on scandals eternal, no buns intended.

Gjams were incomparable.

The Stephanian centenary edition clued us in on how the more we change, the more College remains the same.

Ad nauseam, adding to dei glorius alums.