It's out!

I've been selected in Infosys and Wipro! I'm pretty happy about it but now I'm also confused and I need help on deciding which one I should go for. I've been asking around a bit and I've got a lot of feedback from people.I would love it if any of you reading this would like to share your opinions with me. Thank you! :)

Waiting for my results!

The waiting is the worst part. I've finished with the HR round in two companies and I'm waiting with my fingers crossed for the results! :)

Democracy vs. Democratic countries?

There is a global outcry against the arrest and detainment of Julian Assange, the Editor-in-Chief of WikiLeaks, in a London-based prison on the charges of sexual assault.

This can only be described as an attempt to silence Assange, as his attorney Bjorn Hurtig, who is representing Assange in Sweden says that both women have hidden agendas and he has information which can prove Assange's innocence if only he is allowed to reveal it.



He states that, "If I could tell the British courts, I suspect it would make extradition a moot point. But at the moment I'm bound by the rules of the Swedish legal system, which say that the information can only be used as evidence in this country. For me to do otherwise would lead to me being disbarred."

A week after the release of CableGate, a large amount of classified information, the tide of government disapproval and wrath has turned on Assange. In his article 'Don't shoot messenger for revealing uncomfortable truths' in The Australian, Assange says,

"I have been accused of treason, even though I am an Australian, not a US, citizen. There have been dozens of serious calls in the US for me to be "taken out" by US special forces. Sarah Palin says I should be "hunted down like Osama bin Laden", a Republican bill sits before the US Senate seeking to have me declared a "transnational threat" and disposed of accordingly. An adviser to the Canadian Prime Minister's office has called on national television for me to be assassinated."


It is shocking how supposedly democratic countries like the United States and France seem to be just as oppressive of the Freedom of Speech and the Freedom of Press as China and its counterparts when they themselves are targeted. Australia has also decided to join the ranks of these nations, if only by mere inaction and sycophantic reaction to allegations against WikiLeaks.

Assange has countered all the accusations against him by pointing out that the information he has disclosed has not harmed anyone and no sensitive intelligence methods has been disclosed. The only people it has hit are people with something to hide from the public, which apparently includes the Pope.
Several military organizations and other intelligence operations have confirmed that WikiLeaks has not released information which might endanger troops' lives nor put national security in jeopardy.

This, however, did not diminish pressure against major Internet hosting and financial service providers like Amazon, Paypal and MasterCard which promptly booted WikiLeaks off their servers or blocked its accounts. Even the Library of Congress has blocked WikiLeaks on insubstantial counts.


The good thing is that people are not keeping silent over this rampant disregard of their rights. Several big shots as well as bloggers from all over the world are protesting and making a difference.
'Hacktivists'(Operation:Payback) attacked MasterCard, Visa and Paypal with DDOS(Distributed Denial of Service) and brought them down. A similar attack on Amazon was not successful.



Several voices including Reporters Without Borders, Republican Congressman Ron Paul, Noam Chomsky and Venezuela's President Hugo Chavez are openly supporting WikiLeaks.

"In a free society, we are supposed to know the truth. In a society where truth becomes treason, we are in big trouble," Ron Paul wrote on Twitter.


Reporters Without Borders says it can only condemn this determination to hound Assange and reiterates its conviction that WikiLeaks has a right under the U.S. Constitution’s First Amendment to publish these documents and is even playing a useful role by making them available to journalists and the greater public.


We should understand ... that one of the major reasons for government secrecy is to protect the government from its own population. What that reveals is the profound hatred for democracy on the part of our political leadership and the Israeli political leadership. — Noam Chomsky


And yet, has any government so far changed its stance on the matter based on the voice of the people?
Has Julian Assange been promised a fair trial?
Is the Internet the unbiased medium we think it is?

These are the questions on our minds as we witness one of the most scandalous attempts to cover up damaging information from the public by so-called democratic nations.

Can I have my pot of gold now?

I've finally finished my seventh semester exams and I'm feeling pretty good about it. Digital Signal Processing was a nightmare and Information Security was a mystery, but I'm done with it! I don't have to worry about flunking anything till my results come out.

I marked this event with a hugely surprising sleep-over at Remy's. Pizzas, fancy pink soda water which tasted odd, omelettes at midnight and not watching Love and other drugs. And surprises. It was great.
I have a lot to do for the next week but I've given myself an off for this weekend. I need to get back into shape, I need to do some work for my project and placements and I need to start writing again.

The placements this year are supposed to be a lot more promising than last year's. A lot of colleges have already started with campus placements and it looks optimistic. Though the pay package hasn't increased much (the current average is around 3.1-3.5L)there are more jobs. My college hasn't exactly been a rainbow,(more like a prison keeping you from enjoying a rainy day) but can I please have my pot of gold now?

Design your own shoes!

I found this site one day by pure accident when I was randomly browsing through blogs. It's a lot of fun. Try it out girls. :)

http://www.upperstreet.com/

Internet Programming

I actually spent days studying for my Internet Programming exam. You might not see the significance of this unless you've known me personally for years. The studious front is only a front. I've perfected last minute cramming through diligent practice. This augurs well for the actual writing of the exam, right?

The first problem comes up even before I start for college.
How do I carry the textbooks? We have a couple of hours before the exam starts in which we usually cram like crazy. Did I mention that I had three textbooks, each of which could have easily destroyed my poor, much abused college backpack?

To top it off, I had just changed bus routes. So I went to the bus stop 15 minutes earlier so I wouldn't miss the bus and stood there looking like a dork with my bulging backpack + a GRT Thanga Maligai plastic bag which threatened to split at any moment.

The college bus rolled to a stop about 15 minutes later. People eyed the plastic bag with misgiving and disapproval. The classmate I sat next to peeped at the contents and exhaled, "All foreign authors?" like I had just conquered Everest.
I told her I had been too lazy to go and buy a local author like every other sane person seemed to have done. I don't think she believed me though.

The morning was fresh and foggy. I watched people walk their dogs and a weak sun rise over the Koovam. Yep, good day.
I opened my DHTML textbook and started reading. After half an hour, I was still on line two. Giving up on the impossible, I tried sleeping till I got to college. This was again misinterpreted as a sign of having mugged every word in the book.

By the time I finished breakfast and settled down to cram, I was heartily sick I had bought all my books to college. The cramming went well because there was relatively less to cram than usual.

I briefly considered dumping all my textbooks somewhere after I was done but it didn't last. I've never yet unceremoniously dumped a book. Somehow it seems criminal.

I won't elaborate on the actual exam. Suffice to say that I knew most of everything they asked and still messed up.

Do you know how annoying it is when you know all the answers and still write the wrong ones because of a technicality or because you thought the people who set the question paper were wrong?

I even lugged all the monster books back home despite my grief and despair.

My 100th post

I know that this blog has been far from entertaining for quite sometime now and this is my 100th post. Since I'm on a weird high of nervous energy, an inability to sleep and pure pissed-offness right now, I think I can convert this into a suitably inappropriate post.

I'm now going to write about a very close friend of mine, safe in the knowledge that if I ask her to visit my blog often enough she won't come anywhere near it for the next hundred years or so. I'm going to write about my childhood idiocy. And I'm going to write about men.

Okay, this very close friend of mine has not been very close for sometime now because of certain other commitments. In the beginning, though we were all apprehensive, we tried to be supportive and failed miserably.

Then she had to go away, and we were a little better at being supportive because we were going to miss the old girl and her inappropriate jokes. We weren't exactly overjoyed when she told us brightly that she didn't miss us at all and naturally, we were even more pissed off when she came back and started becoming this complete idiot who couldn't spare a minute of her busy schedule for her old mates and the inappropriate jokes.

Now, here's the crux of the matter. What do you do when one of your best friends believes that she's found peace, emotional crack and the freaking meaning of life all rolled into one highly dubious and phony package?

I'm floored. In the old days, I would have beaned her with a pencil box or something. Now, my other friends and I discuss it in detail behind her back because we're even more scared that we'll push her deeper into this weird phase she's going through and end up hurting her more. If we don't kill her first.



Anyway, enough about my more than usually crazy friend. Let's look at crazy me for a while. I've had my share of emotional highs and lows and it is a mark of how emotionally crazy I am right now that I'm wiling to commemorate my 100th post with something personal.

When I was only so high and looked cute and so on and so forth, I was very fond of pets. Okay, not pets in general. I'm sure I would have hated lizards and rats and iguanas or something. I loved cats and dogs. Generally, they were all quite chummy with me too. At one point, I had a dog and around six cats at home.

I had a habit of picking up homeless puppies and keeping saucers of milk out for random cats which drove my mother mad. In fact, it drove her mad enough to donate them to our friends, Blue Cross and sometimes, she even had 'relocation programs' for the cats. And I cried my eyes out every time my puppies had to go live somewhere else because I wasn't helping enough with cleaning up the puppy poop.

When I look back at all that, I sure as hell don't want a pet right now. Investing emotionally in something and then crying your heart out when the pet runs off, or gets lost or dies...it's too messy for me. I sometimes think it would be nice to have a cat curled up near me or a dog hogging all the sofa space but then, there's always the eternal question. What about the poop?



Now, coming to that part of this post about men. I've completely run out of steam but I'll tell you something...
Men are from Mars.

Ignore this

I have a sudden feeling of being all alone. It's mostly because everyone who was at the exact same spot I'm in now last year, isn't here this year. And it's not the same. This isn't exactly the time for me to be feeling all touchy feely but I just wanted to tell someone. Since I can't talk to anyone right now and a laptop was lying around, you're it.

Twenty great books you shouldn’t miss out on

I’ve been meaning to write this post for quite some time and I’ve finally gotten around to doing it. I’m a self proclaimed bibliophile and a lot of people will, with considerable disgust, attest that I’m happiest when I’m curled up with a good book. Here’s a list of my personal favourites. If you love books, you simply cannot miss out on these. :)

1.To Kill a Mockingbird - by Harper Lee
2.The Catcher in the Rye – by J.D. Salinger
3.The Fountainhead – by Ayn Rand
4.The Harry Potter series – by J.K. Rowling
5.The Hitchhiker’s series – by Douglas Adams
6.The Grand Sophy – by Georgette Heyer
7.The Jeeves omnibus – by P.G. Wodehouse
8.Pride and Prejudice – by Jane Austen
9.Three Men in a Boat – by Jerome K. Jerome
10.The Lord of the Rings – by J.R.R. Tolkien
11.Of Human Bondage - by Somerset Maugham
12.Mr. God, this is Anna – by Fynn
13.The Little Prince – by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
14.Oh! The places you’ll go – by Dr.Seuss
15.Sense and Sensibility – by Jane Austen
16.1984 – by George Orwell
17.Where the Sidewalk Ends – by Shel Silverstein
18.The Godfather – by Mario Puzo
19.Little Women – by Louisa May Alcott
20.Anna Karenina - by Leo Tolstoy

I'll be back with more.

Check out Chennai Gourmand!

Hey guys, I'm now co-authoring a blog called Chennai Gourmand with The Researcher.
We all know how terrific I am in the kitchen(refer How to Set the Kitchen on Fire), so not only will this have great Indian recipes for the well-versed(The Researcher is good with that), but also recipes which even I can manage without bungling up. I'm hoping this will help out everyone like moi who really have no clue how to cook but would like to.
So we'd love it if you check it out and let us know what you think. Thanks!
(P.S: You can also find it on my blog list on the right panel.)

A Thousand Suns

I don't like the new Linkin Park album and I can't understand what they're trying to do. Change isn't bad. I loved Minutes to Midnight but the songs in A Thousand Suns don't sound like Linkin Park at all. A pity.

On the bright side, I discovered a few LPU(Linkin Park Underground) tracks today and they were awesome! Mind you, they were just demo tracks which aren't on the main albums. They were way better than anything on the new album. I really hope that they go back to the way they used to make music.

U.K.G project

You don't really hear anything good about schools these days. They're either demanding, expensive and inhumane or they're undisciplined, mismanaged and there's 'no proper teaching'.

Of course, what you hear also depends on the kind of parent you're listening to and some of them are pretty neurotic. My niece studies in S.B.O.A CBSE school and my sister has so far neither complained about inhumanity or declining intelligence in her daughter.

However, I have noticed a disturbing trend.
The homework is fine, the activities are good but the projects they send home are not for the kids, they're for the parents. In the past couple of months, my sister has made slides on etiquette, the food pyramid, kitchen utilities, charts on wildlife and she's currently working on a project about airports.
These kids can't even spell the word airport yet. And all this is on display for other parents to come and see, even though the kids themselves only have a vague idea about what the heck is going on.

Okay, my questions are:

1. Isn't the teacher supposed to prepare charts and other teaching aids?
Most teachers try and get all the work they can out of hapless parents.

2. Why don't they give kids projects which they can do themselves?
So you want a project on airports? Ask each kid to draw a picture of a plane and tell the class a few lines about what they know or feel about airports.
I don't think they should tell the kid's mother to prepare a power point presentation, take printouts,prepare charts or models just to display it to other parents.

My niece is pretty excited to go to school anyway, so it's not all bad. She comes home every evening and demands a status report of any project her teacher's told my sister to do. It's kind of funny, really.

And the curtains go up....

The end of college as I've known it is near.
Finally!
Most people still think it's weird that I'm not the least bit nostalgic about college life. Most people are not me. I am going to miss a couple of people, there are some good memories, but not much else.

Now, coming back to the important stuff, what's up next? I have a lot of studying to do, a lot of preparing for placements and the project and since I'll only have to go to college for a couple of days a week, a lot of time to myself. Learning to drive is on the list. So is sleeping in. For almost four years, my weekdays have usually started at 5 a.m. No more. Well, at least till I get a job. I'm even thinking about learning to cook. (We all know how that's going to go. I'm hoping nothing burns down.)

The future is uncertain. It's like being in a theater with no idea what you're going to experience before the curtains are up. And for a change you're behind the curtains.

A taste of Georgette Heyer

It's about time one of my favourite writers got her own post.
Georgette Heyer was one of the most prolific writers of her time. Her novels are mostly based in England's Regency era (generally between 1790 and 1820) and she's also written detective and historical fiction.

The first Georgette Heyer that I read was Sprig Muslin. I found it in an old wooden cupboard at home and it was almost falling apart.
I was hooked after two pages.
Luckily, the library I used to go to had almost all of her regency romance novels. I quickly devoured These Old Shades, laughed all through Frederica and decided Grand Sophy was my favourite. And she's written loads more. They don't call her prolific for nothing.


One of my friends (KD) and I were avid Georgettte Heyer fans through most of high school and through all of college and we still think that she's one of the best authors we've ever read. I was totally crushed when the library that I went to closed down and the owner sold all the books to a home delivery library service.

Georgette Heyer (1902-1974) wrote her first book, The Black Moth when she was in her teens, for her convalescing brother. Apparently, her father was very impressed and published it for her while she was still in her teens.

The depth of detail in her books will indicate the kind of knowledge she had about the Regency period. More than just that, it's her humour, wit and her wonderful gift of bringing characters to life. It's incredibly funny, very witty and extremely vivid. You can almost see it happening.

Another thing about Heyer is that her books are romantic but not too much. There's a strong vein of common sense running through all her plots, however flamboyant those plots may be. There are none of those passionate scenes, stereotypes and the provocative covers of your average romance novels. She has style and she didn't need to descend to that (considering that it wasn't exactly de rigeur back then) to sell her books.

I've gone to every second hand shop in Moore market, asking for something by Heyer and no one's heard of it. The original books at Landmark and Crossword cost quite a bit (around Rs.300 and it is expensive because I can't be satisfied with just one).
Thank God for my E-reader. I must have read most of her regency novels around fifty times already.

P.S: She shares something with another one of my favourite writers, J.D.Salinger. Neither of them have ever given an interview with the Press and they're both very private people despite being famous for their work. That's very classy when most people these days with a fraction of their talent and style hanker after fame and publicity.

Homosexuality - myths and popular opinions

I've been taught the story of Sodom and Gomorrah even before I could understand what it was all about. As I grew up, the popular sentiment was always against homosexuality. The Bible definitely says, in no uncertain terms, that homosexuality is a sin (both in the old and new testaments) and that it will be severely punished.

It seemed a little harsh, but then I wasn't really bothered about the whole issue when I was a kid. Now that more and more people are coming out of the closet regarding their sexuality and homosexuality is a legal, social and moral issue in our own country, it is impossible for me (or anyone else, for that matter) to ignore the issue.

1) Some of the first results I got when I ran a Google search on this issue screamed in bold letters about how God is against it. I believe that any issue which spans human history, different cultures, countries and religions should not just be judged based on the sentiments of a single religion.

To be honest though, most religions do not support homosexuality while some (like Buddhism) are entirely silent on the matter, only speaking against sexuality outside marriage. I'm not going to look at it from a religious point of view here. In my opinion, whatever your religious sentiments may be, don't force it on other people. However, keep in mind that homosexuality between consenting adults does not breach any human values. Our society is tolerant of far worse.

2) There is a common cry that 'it is not natural'. I want you to do something: Run a Wikipedia search on homosexuality in animals. You'd be surprised. Almost every species shows signs of homosexuality.
However, there is an argument saying that animals may have homosexual relations to maintain bonds in the pack or to show dominance. Also, there are definite cases of cannibalism and murder in the animal kingdom. The basic argument here is that natural does not make it moral or right.

3) Some say that it is biological and therefore, not a personal choice. There might be something in this. Research has shown that genes may play a vital role in how sexuality develops in humans. Hormones may have nothing to do with it at all. This is not conclusive evidence, however.

A med friend of mine says that in her opinion, it is entirely dependent on the environment and is triggered by experience rather than by genes or naturally by your own body. On the other hand, eunuchs and hermaphrodites are born that way and are still ostracized by society (but surprisingly, not by many religions). In any case, I doubt it will make a big difference.

4) The productive society and family unit argument is by far the most tricky. It cannot be said that homosexual people do not contribute to society in any way, because bearing children is not the most important contribution they can make. At least, not in a society where over-population is prevalent as is the case today.

When it comes to the family unit, you have a host of other factors like acceptance and societal norms to take into consideration and it may not matter in an ideal world but in reality, it is not an environment you should bring up a child in. In my opinion, this is also true of divorces and broken, abusive homes.

5) As for the government refusing to provide equal rights to these people and making it a moral and social issue, I have little patience with that. You cannot call yourself a democracy if you deny equal rights to a person who does nothing to violate another person's rights or the nation's welfare and security.

6) It is said that they contribute heavily to the spread of various sexual diseases. So do straight people. There are millions of heterosexual people with AIDS all over the world. Homosexuality doesn't equate to promiscuity. If you say that it is outside the institution of marriage, who denied them that right in the first place?


I'm not for or against the homosexual issue. While it is not my personal preference, I can't speak for other people. All I'm saying is that the extent and magnitude of the outcry and the kind of treatment meted out to these people is just not fair. The Bible, for instance, says that a disobedient child must be stoned to death and takes an equally strict view about adulterers, prostitutes and divorce. Why do we feel that those things are not as much of a threat to society as homosexuality?

Do you think you can teach?

Today was a particularly harrowing day. I don't want to go into the details, but it was mostly because of a certain professor. Sometimes, it's really hard keeping my temper in check but then, losing it would be like stooping to her level and it isn't exactly wise to retaliate when there's only six months of imprisonment left.

Anyway, this gave me some food for thought. I've always been taught to respect my elders, especially my teachers. There's a famous Sanskrit phrase which says, 'matha, pitha, guru, deivam'. It basically states the hierarchy of reverence or respect. First your mother, then your father, after whom comes your teacher and only then does God come into the picture. The problem is, I've also been taught that respect is earned, not given.

I personally feel that the teaching profession is nothing to be scoffed at. It requires a lot of knowledge, a lot of attitude and a phenomenal amount of patience; something that I might never achieve. What bothers me is that people no longer enter this profession to teach. In most people's eyes, it's an easy nine-to-five job which pays. There are a few dedicated teachers and professors out there and I've had the good fortune to study under some of them but sadly, their numbers are very, very small. I speak from experience when I say that a teacher can make or break your interest in a subject, and even in life.



For example, my computer science teacher in the eleventh grade was amazing. She knew her stuff, she loved what she taught and she would not tolerate undone homework. I've stood outside her class a few times for forgetting to read through what she had taught us the previous day, but I was drawn to her energy, her humour, her totally fun 'find the output' quizzes for which we would gladly stay back after school...I'm not exaggerating when I say that she was the reason I decided to take computer science in college.
I can still remember sitting in her class and furiously working out the logic of programs with tricky loops and other programming constructs just to yell out the answer before anyone else. I can also remember her beaming at me as she handed out corrected test papers and told me that I'd done well but I could do better.

She had to go to Dubai in the middle of the school year and we had a long string of substitutes till we finished our twelfth grade,each one of them worse than the last. I still loved the subject and we even went back to her house after she came back for a few lessons, even though she wasn't our teacher anymore.

Then I got into college. I don't mean to say that my interest was completely destroyed after a few days, but gradually it did go down to a considerable extent. A lot of people have told me that interest will survive bad teachers but mine didn't. I still study, I still pass my exams with good grades but I envy what I had when I was sixteen. I've had maybe two good professors in my entire college life. That is what's still keeping the embers alive.

It's not always possible to have teachers who will inspire you to be better at something and look forward to classes. In fact, it's pretty rare. All I'm saying is that if you want to be a teacher, please don't try to do it just for the money and please don't be an ignorant, sadistic, vindictive, self righteous moron. You're influencing a lot of lives and that's a heavy responsibility to shoulder.

Why I love maintaining a journal

I was flipping through my old journal entries today. I'm one lucky kid, you know. I have everything people spend a lifetime searching for. If you can, I would suggest to everyone reading this that you maintain a journal. There are so many memories which are going to be lost or forgotten if you don't have something to remind you of them.

You will not realize the importance of this until you find yourself soul-searching. You might not think a journal has an objective view of things, but when you grow as a person and look back at what you wrote years ago, it is more objective than you can imagine.
It can give you an insight into your own values and ideas. It can show you all the things you have when you think you have nothing. If you have ghosts of your past like childhood abuse,a dysfunctional family or even just a teenage feud with a friend, a journal is perfect for introspection and coping with things in the past.



I really don't have the discipline to write in my journal everyday. So if you have the same problem, take heart. I personally think that writing in a journal everyday just for the sake of writing makes things a little mundane unless you're dedicated to it. I prefer writing in it only when I feel that something needs to be put down on paper. It also helps me vent and express emotions that I can't show. It's a safe outlet where I can say things without hurting anyone else or being judged.

To be frank, I'm a hopeless romantic. It tempers my pessimism. I like to dream big, but I'm cautious when it comes to real life situations. It's one of my best strengths while it is also a pretty big weakness. When I'm unsure of how I should act in certain situations, I sometimes flip through the journals I wrote when I was a teenager. You won't believe how much that helps.
It puts things in perspective; it makes me laugh. And I'm always up for a good laugh.

Cold, Fever and Exams

I've got a three day weekend, thanks to Ramzan. I also have this bad cold and a bit of a fever so all my plans of...well, anything have to be put on hold till I get better. I think I am getting better, so here's to hoping that I won't have to spend the entire weekend at home with nothing to do.
There has been a sudden spate of fevers and colds in college and at home. Being sick is not fun but thankfully it's on the wane. Almost everyone I know is recovering from either a fever, a cold or both.

My internals start on Monday and as usual, there's going to be a lot of last minute studying going on. Most of the professors have despaired of the hope that we'll get decent marks and have passed on important questions for us to concentrate on. While this is going to help in the short term, I think we're in for a lot of work right before the semesters begin. As usual.

By the way, the thermometer on top is for measuring atmospheric temperature and not body temperature. Nonetheless, it looks pretty cool, doesn't it?

I don't give a damn

This is the title of a song by Avril Lavigne.

This is highly therapeutic if you just had one of those days when you wished you could say these words out loud to all the things and people who did their best to give you a splitting headache on a Monday.
Repeat after me. I do not give a damn. You can also download this song and sing along, with the added bonus that some of those people who did annoy you might be forced to listen to it and get one of those headaches themselves. Of course, the rest of the song is about some annoying guy who bugs her but it's the principle of the whole thing.

By the way, I have decided to give healthy eating a try because:

a) I've never tried eating healthy before, thanks to a decent metabolism rate and a dislike of forcing myself to lay off chips just to fit into those clothes Kareena Kapoor flaunts in the Vaio ad. I'm not saying it would be horrendous if I did fit into them by some miracle, but Size Zero vs. Cream and Onion Lays? Pass the chutney dip, please. So let's give a slightly smaller dress size a sporting chance here. It's only fair.

b)I've been living off bread and butter, noodles and other things which I'm growing slightly tired of. I never thought I'd say this but vegetables actually sound good right now.

c) My mother is not around to bug me to eat healthy. Reverse psychology, I guess.


I've also flicked KD's copy of Julius Caesar. This is the first time in weeks I've felt an inclination to read. I take it as a good thing. Last weekend was hands down amazing. I love the people I love. And they must be pretty darn much into me as well, if a lack of criticism about late birthday wishes, disliking glee and falling asleep in the middle of Godfather, Part1 is a sign.

Okay, I've got to go shopping for some of those healthy stuff right now.
(I think I'll sneak in a pastry or two for taking the initiative. It's not good to overdo it, after all.)

Ten Reasons Why Indian Weddings are Not Fun

1. You have to meet every single member of the family, including the aunts who pinch your cheek and make vague
insinuations that you’re next on the hit list. Generally, this is followed by raucous laughter from everyone within
earshot. I don’t understand. Why is this supposed to be funny??


2. The huge crowd, most of whom you don’t know even if it’s a wedding in your own family.


3. The fact that you have to be ‘appropriately’ dressed in clothes that will guarantee death by dehydration and heat if
the hall isn’t air conditioned. In fact, even if it is, the human throng there usually nullifies all effects.


4. The point of a long ceremony followed by an even longer reception escapes me.


5. The lakhs of rupees spent on it could actually fund their kids' college education in the future if anyone cared to think
about it.


6. You hardly get to talk to the couple if you’re close to them and you can’t get away soon enough if you’re not.


7. Highly non Eco-friendly. Have you seen the amount of wastage at these things?


8. If the number of relatives cross a certain critical limit, gossip and/about scandals is inevitable.


9. The loud, unbearably terrible songs they blast on the speakers.


10. It’s just so…lame.

On Nothing in Particular

I now live with two little tykes. The word 'No' takes on a new tone of urgency these days. If you've ever been around kids for more than an hour, you'll know what I mean.They're like cute, adorable little bombs which can go off any minute if you don't pay them enough attention/ they don't like what's on TV/ they're hungry/ you don't let them use your cellphone, sharp objects or just about any inappropriate, dangerous thing that they want at the time.

There are moments though, when you can't believe how incredible they are. Most of these moments happen when they're asleep or they've just woken up and they're too disoriented to do any damage.

Chennai's gearing up for a marathon this weekend.I've always wanted to run in a marathon despite the fact that I can't even walk a kilometer without collapsing with a stitch in my side. In fact there are times when I wish that I was better at the whole sports thing, but then I think of running in the hot Chennai sun and being gawked at by the myriad population of the city, and I decide that I'll watch it on TV instead.

My latest cooking disasters include a brownie which bore a closer resemblance to a rock and projectiles spraying the kitchen from a mixer when I turned it on without realising that the lid was loose.

I also need to start learning and not just study. There's a distinctive difference between the two and I think I'm a little hopeless with the former.This is a big deal now because if I don't learn anything, I don't get a job. That is not even an option right now, so I should buckle down and get started...
Things would be so much better if I had some inspiration right about now.

Ah, well...it's been fun. Or not.

I saw a photo taken on a college trip by one of my friends recently. Simple snap, really. Five guys sitting on a grassy shore with their arms around each other's shoulders, their backs to the camera and a stunningly beautiful lake and a gorgeous array of hills in front of them. Even if you take away that gorgeous backdrop you would still know that these guys were having the time of their lives. That one photo had more soul than most of my experiences in college put together.

I read somewhere that our happiness depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances. I've accepted that and I do have a lot of fun with the people I've met in the last three years. In fact, some of them are the most awesome people I know. There have been some good experiences, some bad ones and a lot of things which could have turned out better or worse than they actually did.

All I know is that I'm not looking back once I'm done with college. The basic idea is to get placed, get my degree and get out. While I'll never forget the past three years of my life (again, some absolutely fantastic things have happened. I wouldn't trade those in for the world), I will also never miss my college.
As Arnie puts it, it's hasta la vista, baby.

How to set the kitchen on fire (Work in progress)

I wouldn’t call myself hopelessly clumsy. I was reasonably good at chemistry and didn’t really blow up anything in the lab when I was in school despite being in close proximity with a number of chemicals and teachers who could blow up. I even have a memory which is good enough to remember instructions. So why does every cooking experiment I embark on end in near disaster?


Case 1: Custard.

How easy is this? I mean, all you have to do is boil milk with sugar, cool it, mix it with custard powder, boil it again, cool it again and put it in the fridge; fairly simple as far as recipes for dessert go. It’s even simpler with ready made ice cream mixes.

Everything was fine till I mixed in the custard powder. I forgot this one vital little thing: stir. Burnt custard is not really all that appetizing.And it smells weird.



Case 2: Cutlets

Everything was going great. Mom was right there to help (read: give instructions, lament about how hopeless I am at this, pity my future husband, et cetera , et cetera) and I was totally hyped about mashing the potatoes and mixing in the egg and stuff, feeling like one of those celebrity chefs on TV.

The moment of glory arrived when the potato patties were finally ready to be fried. The oil temperature was just right, the kitchen temperature was sweltering and I carefully dropped the first cutlet into the oil.

Success.

Or not. I watched with all the disappointment of a scientist on the edge of breakthrough who, instead of a super human ends up with a mutant creature from hell bent on destroying the lab, as the patty disintegrated into the oil and emitted copious amounts of smoke.

‘Too little egg,’ my mother observed dispassionately.
I fished out the remains with a ladle and gave up cooking for a while.



Case 3: Soup (date: today)

I am a big fan of instant soups (and noodles and pasta…in fact anything instant is right up my alley). I have done this many times over the years and though other people might be paranoid about tasting it, I have been perfectly satisfied with my hot and sour/sweet corn/chicken/ veggie soup. Today was a little different. No instant soup packet.

Do I give up? No. Great people who are hungry do not give up. They persevere. They go online and find a simple recipe for the only thing they can find at home.
However, they might not leave oil in a pan to heat up on a high flame for too long.

By the way, don’t do this.
After putting out the flame (Dad helped. Science lesson: Put a cloth over it. If the cloth doesn’t catch fire, the fire will be put out because the oxygen supply is cut off. If the cloth catches fire, you’re in trouble) and exiting kitchen for the exhaust fan to do its job, I continue on my quest and look up soup thickeners.

Corn starch: don’t have it.
Vegetable puree: too lazy.
Roux: flour mixed with butter. Hmm...

Ten minutes later I sit at the computer proudly, with one bowl of bonafide onion soup thickened with roux. I wait for it to cool as I type out my entry on how to set the kitchen on fire. I finally taste my culinary masterpiece.

Too much salt.

Fashion on the Streets...

Every girl I've ever known, down to the most studious bookworm, always craves fashion and style. Most of them might not show it but the desire to look good is natural and there are few people who are completely indifferent to the way they look.

I'm not saying that looks are everything, but it is something we are all intrinsically attracted to. Like many girls, I went through the heady phase of imagining that my future lay in fashion designing. It pretty much went down the drain after my folks told me fashion designing was not a 'decent' field because of all the bikinis and bare midriffs. And yet, I drew faceless girls with long legs wearing my teenage idea of fashion. I still have those old notepads with the pencil-drawn figures. They are by no means amazing and sometimes only vaguely resemble actual human figures but they still make me smile nostalgically when I happen to glance at them sometime. I love good clothes, whether or not I’m the one who’s wearing them.

Recently I came across a blog by Scott Schuman, a blogger who walks the streets with his camera and takes pictures of interestingly dressed people whom he comes across. I am completely captivated with the idea of fashion on the streets and not merely on ramps and red carpets. I adore from his blog, The Sartorialist.

Plans

I met up with my friends today. It’s been a while since most of us have been free at the same time. While we sat eating chat, lasagna, sandwiches and cheese balls in Sree Mithai, I was surprised at how everyone seemed to be seriously choosing and sticking to their specific paths in life.

Kay’s already working in a bank; KD and Remy are still in college but were discussing how they could implement a system for treating accident trauma cases as soon as possible. Princess is going to do her M.Sc in Clinical Psychology. I just sat and ate my chili cheese sandwich and quizzed everyone on the meanings of words in KD’s GRE word list. No one might ever use words like obloquy and hirsute these days but damn, it’s fun. I would do GRE just to get to that word list but higher education is definitely not on my agenda right now.


Anyway, it’s a little difficult to join in conversations like the ones my friends were into today when you know exactly how clueless you are. It’s all very well to say most interesting people are clueless but I realize that I can’t be clueless for long. At least I now have some clue about what I don’t want to do.


I went down to KD’s place a little later and we sang along to Rihanna and Breaking Benjamin. Some things never change. It’s reassuring to know that we can still go crazy and do embarrassing things like karaoke and getting high on Pepsi no matter how much things change.

Taking optimism nowhere

I want to study, I’ve taken all my books out and I totally understand the importance of opening them and actually reading them. So why haven’t I done it yet? It seems to be a rather simple thing to do at around 3 p.m in the afternoon. However, a couple of hours later when confronted with the actual books themselves, the feeling loses steam and somehow, I inexplicably end up making instant soup and reading Douglas Adams.

Talking about Douglas Adams, is the dude extremely awesome or what?
I mean, this is the man who boldly declares, ‘Let's think the unthinkable, let's do the undoable. Let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all’ and writes about Bistromatics, the Pan-galactic gargle blaster and Marvin, the paranoid android not to mention Milliways, the restaurant at the end of the universe. What is C and aptitude compared to humour about the vast, fictional reaches of the universe? Sadly, no one gets this.

Wide Open Spaces

I’m having an attack of claustrophobia. More than my physical world, it’s the feeling of something closing in on me from the inside. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt this but it gives you a craving for walking down long roads alone in the rain. Anyway, it’s too bad all the roads I can take right now are packed with rush hour traffic, every hour. Maybe I just want to see a wide stretch of nothingness, open spaces as far as the eye can see. I can imagine it...a gray sky, a stiff breeze, the play of light, a place to watch the trees move from and maybe even someone to watch it all with.

I know, I know. It sounds like a badly written opening to a romantic tragedy. I’m not good with angst. So yeah, open spaces. If it doesn’t make me even more lachrymose, it might be a good idea.

Back to reality

I’m back! My semester holidays were mostly spent in a holiday trip to Malaysia, Singapore, Delhi and Varanasi. It was good. I saw a lot of new places, met a few really awesome people, got tired of planes, loved the city lights at night and the long drives during the day, lived out of a suitcase and missed home like crazy. Whatever said and done, there’s no place like your own hopelessly messy room.

I’ve started college again and it is as horrible as it has always been. My ex-HOD now takes class for me and I’m going crazy. A couple of my other staff are equally rage-inducing. Also, Chennai is scorching hot! It’s really bad and if there’s a power cut, we’re doomed for the rest of the day. Even a few hours without any air conditioning is intolerable.

Oh, and I blew up my computer. Again. There was smoke coming out of the CPU and everything. I have no clue why or how it happened. I attract computer trouble like a saree shop attracts my mom. I’m resigned to it, sadly. However, this does seem like a bad omen. Maybe I’m in the wrong professional line. I don’t think people will like me blowing up systems when I’m a software engineer.

Exams suck

This is not an original statement. I’ll bet this phrase has been around as long as the concept of exams itself. There were probably cave kids whose parents wanted them to learn to draw pictures on the cave walls in the belief that it bettered their lives in a completely useless way. All the non-artistically inclined kids probably expressed the same sentiment by a series of extremely rude hand gestures.
And the awful truth of this short and pithy sentence hits you like a brick wall only when you have something else you really, really, really want to do.
Yes, I have something else I really, really, really want to do.

I’ve finished my Data warehousing and mining exam and I’m also done with Artificial Intelligence. What have I learnt? Reading most of the textbook and trying to remember it all in a day will give you a headache. Don’t try this at home. I’m a professional.


I’m just going to go whip up some hot and sour instant soup and settle down with my e-reader. Georgette Heyer, Wodehouse or Douglas Adams...I really can’t decide.

When’s my next exam? Sorry, no comprendo.

Of things that are unlooked for and found/The farce called IPL

I intended this entry to be fun and frisky with humourous accounts of my attempts at cutlet-making, waiting in a hotel lobby for an hour for a table and other similar study holiday exploits. So you’ll have to forgive me for being a little non-frisky and telling you that I also spent some of the best moments of my life in an obscure little ice cream parlour, French loaf, Flower Drum and sneaking into schools.
Things are never going to be boring. I’ve discovered that not everything happens the way you think it will and sometimes, the way it works out is much better than the way you expected it to.


I’ve also spent a lot of my study time catching up on the nation’s doings in the newspapers. I am sick of seeing Sashi Tharoor, Lalit Modi and Sunanda Pushkar on the front page everyday. I mean really, do we have no better news to cover than IPL scandals and scams anymore?
I was surprised when the more important news of Sashi Tharoor stepping down as Minister for External affairs was not given as much space in the front page as details of the 70-crore ‘sweat equity’ and Tharoor’s alleged relationship with Pushkar.
IPL sucks. I don’t have anything against cricket as a sport but as a commercial money-maker and as an entity which holds the power to sway the politics of a nation through not very commendable means, I feel that the basic principles of sport itself have been tarnished.

Study Holidays - Part One

My semester practical exams are over! It wasn’t smooth sailing all through but it's over and that, my friends, is the important thing. The study holidays have begun and I use the word ‘study’ loosely. I’ve already spent three days doing things completely unrelated to academia and I’ve never felt better. The fun ends here though. Unless I at least take out my books by tomorrow, I fear I will be murdered in cold blood by my parents who have this strange idea that I should actually study in the study hols.

The last three days however, have been a blast. It’s great when your friends know how to cook good food, celebrate birthdays or are just amazing people to hang out with. I made a huge list of things to do in my study holidays. It is not humanly possible to do all these things when death by basilisk stares is held over your head, but I intend to try anyway. Keep watching this space for more on Crazy Study Holiday Exploits and How I Placate My Mother. To be continued...

Another Twentieth

It’s Kay’s birthday today. Most of the gang are officially twenty now and the charm is kind of wearing off. Of course, it was a lot of fun and I was bowled over by Kay’s awesome nachos. Not to mention the rest of that fabulous meal. And the cake. And the ice cream and jelly. God, sometimes food just makes your day.


The rest of the day was spent mostly in social satire involving pop stars who have barely entered their teens, kidding the birthday girl and taking loads of pictures. Oh and sticking heart stickers on our phones. Don’t even ask.



Weirdly, there was none of the usual madness which accompanies birthdays. Maybe we’ve just celebrated too many birthdays this month. Yeah, that must be it. I’m suffering from birthday burn-outis: a rare medical condition which lowers your adrenaline levels on birthdays and makes you write angst-ridden blog entries.


Speaking of medical conditions, yesterday I either had a sympathetic reaction which made all my blood flow to my feet or an anaphylactic reaction to a vaccine. In simple terms, I blacked out for a few moments. Anyway, it wasn’t a lot of fun when it happened but it sure was funny to everyone else after I got over it. I would like to impart a piece of wisdom here: Life generally plots against you when it comes to any funny business. You so rarely derive the same pleasure from other people’s sympathetic and anaphylactic reactions than the joy they seem derive from yours.
Sad.

Farewell 2010

First things first. The awards were rigged. All you heads of departments, shame on you!

Apart from the disgraceful favouritism rampant in the farce called Farewell Awards, I think it went pretty well. From the minute I got into the bus in the morning and till the moment I got out, I was pretty entertained. It started out with the cake cutting, the fake snow, the impromptu scream sessions and the jokes about leaving jail.
All the girls from each department wore matching saris and naturally had to take like, a million pictures of themselves in the mess hall, in front of the department, the bathroom, the auditorium...it’s a girl thing. The more formal and uncomfortable something is, the more pictures you need to take to commemorate it.

The guys were in really high spirits as well if the spontaneous fist fights and dancing were any indication of how happy they were to be leaving the place. And wearing traditional Tamil clothes didn’t stop them from throwing people in the air or mock beating up guys who won all the awards. It was fun to watch. One minute all of them have their arms around each others' shoulders and the next, after the winner is announced there is a collective gasp of ‘Machan! Neeya?!’ and the poor guy gets beat up by the entire department. Very entertaining stuff.


Some of the programs were really funny, I’ll give them that. It really did feel like a Farewell and in my college, that’s saying something. I’m just waiting for my own and wondering if I should turn up wearing a leather jacket and torn jeans when everyone else is in a pink sari. The idea is very appealing.

Wish I could fish

Do you know how it is when you see dark clouds on the horizon moving threateningly closer every moment and you’re lying comfortably in a small boat, ignoring the sense of impending doom in favour of lazing around with a good book and a fishing rod? No? It’s a little similar to what I’m doing right now. Substitute the clouds of disaster with semester exams and the fishing rod and novel with birthday parties, movies, lunches and well, novels and there’s your analogy.

Everyone’s really feeling the pressure of the model exams, the semester exams, the constant, nagging fear of not getting placed or not making it through GRE/GATE/MAT/TANCET and God knows what else these people are writing these days. Also, there’s a new directive from Anna University that all practical papers will be set by said University and not by the respective colleges. Oh joy. Now I can look forward to doing that lousily as well.

And as if this isn’t enough, college day got cancelled. Not that I’ve ever really enjoyed college day, but it’s the principle of the thing. It’s yet another Machiavellian plot to oppress our souls and break our spirits. To all the Nicolo Machiavellis of the college management (no offence to the actual Nicolo Machiavelli whom I’ve heard was a very quiet, nice man with somewhat ruthless ideas when it came to winning at checkers and the like), I thumb my nose at you! With panache! If there was an appropriate nose-thumbing smiley, I would have included it here as well to express the sentiment better. That’s how supremely unconcerned I am with your plots to make us sit in class all day and dream of scaling the college compound walls in a desperate bid for freedom. So there.

Right, I think I’ll get back to my novel and wait for the fish to bite.

The pointlessness of it all

Have you ever felt completely content with life at the end of a long day? When you enjoy your work and you feel like you’re not just another person because you’re proud of the way you can do something in a way no one else can, it does you more good than a vacation ever will.

Why does the world want us to stop thinking when all the progress the world has seen depends on men using their minds? Why does the world want to condition us to expect a safety net? Why is it so wrong to make mistakes and so right to compromise on life? Why do people smile cynically when you speak of moral rectitude?

Why are men and women who do menial jobs chosen more carefully than the men and women shaping young minds? Why is it that, when these minds scream out in frustration and rebellion, men only seek to suppress it and succeed nine times out of ten?

All I ask for is the strength to not bother about offending the world or anyone in it in the pursuit of what I want.

Playing hookie

I found this great site called Urban Dictionary. It defines hookie as:

A day in which liberty is taken upon oneself to exclude themselves from school or work obligations while, most likely, pretending to be sick or having a death in the family. Usually this time is spent with a significant other (i.e. hookie for nookie), a sports activity (i.e. golf or playstation), or just plain sitting on one's ass all day editing & writing definitions for modern slang words over the Internet. Commonly referred to as "playing hookie".

Guess what? Guilty! Okay, I am actually sick with a bad cough and everything. And I'm in dire need of inspiration after days of a sudden obsession with doing nothing useful whatsoever.

Believe me when I say I do not play hookie all the time. In fact, this is the first day I'm bunking this semester. Which should tell you what a complete nerd I am.
I was thinking (which is not a good sign generally, but sometimes I surprise myself) and the only phrase which kept popping into my head was, 'Dude, you need a break.'
So I decided to bunk college and instantly felt better than I had in a long time. It's like Prozac or something, I swear.

And here I am. I just caught a champagne supernova sunrise. You know, like the ones you always see in calenders with a huge beam of sunlight bursting out of a bunch of clouds and making interesting patterns in the sky, then you realise it's a Monday and you feel like ripping the calender. Only it's not and I feel like humming and being annoyingly cheerful.

Taking time off once in a while is great. I'm actually thinking about taking out my textbooks and ignoring them, that's how charged up I am. I love it!

The best parts of a newspaper

My mother has this habit of pointing out articles in the newspaper which will help me survive life, like articles about the evils of networking sites, higher education which I’ll never pursue, divorce, crime, health, crime, tips to pass exams, crime, how to increase my IQ, crime…you get the point.

I actually found a newspaper supplement on how to beat stress during exams on my table a couple of days back. Firstly, I am in college. It’s not the exams which stress me out, it’s everything else. Secondly, mom! You don’t leave stuff like that on my table where anyone can see it! Thank you!

So I dutifully read all the tips for a perfectly boring life because it means a lot to her. She’s a good mom, you know. Protect your daughter from cyber stalkers and feed her healthy stuff even if she refuses to eat it, tell her to clean her room, glare formidably when she acts like a stubborn ass and all that. So the ritual leaving of newspapers on my bed, my table and anywhere where it’s likely to intrude on my line of sight is her way of saying ‘I care’.
Or is it, ‘You better have the sense to not get into a load of trouble’?
Oh wait, it could even be, ‘Obey your mom. The Bible says the consequences will be messy if you’re not going to read that article about education in the US even if we’re never going to send you there.’

I know why she does this. It’s because she has no faith that I would voluntarily read any of this. And she doesn’t think the comic strips or the TV schedule are newsworthy materials. I disagree with her. I think they’re the best parts of a newspaper. She has her own guilty secrets though. She likes celebrity gossip, especially when there’s divorce involved because she can then point it out to me as a life lesson on the evils of…well, divorce.

So my mom and I have this awesome mother-daughter thing going on, as you can see. She just walked out of the room because I refused to let her read this. Ah, motherly love. Nothing like it.

Soft skills and a slow week.

It’s been a long week. Seriously, it feels like the week’s dragged on forever. Boy, am I glad tomorrow’s a Friday. And to make our days longer, we have placement training classes after college hours.
This isn’t as bad as you’d expect it to be. We just sit around and figure out a few aptitude questions except when people come and talk to us about soft skills. Now, this is hilarious.

They always start off with how important communication is. Then they ask us to define communication. You have to remember that there is no right answer to this question. So even the best answer you can think of will earn a ‘Good answer, but what I was looking for was...’ Usually what they are looking for is to look like they know what they’re talking about.



The last person who talked to us actually told us that efficiency is perception-based. As in, you don’t have to do much work. You just have to look like you do it, suck up to the boss and make sure you’re in his good books. Enlightening.

The body language talk is just as bad. I understand that we shouldn’t disgust the interviewer by wearing neon pink to the interview or slouch in our chairs in the hopes that we’ll disappear under the table, but to actually suggest that a little flirting will not go amiss is a little too much. What if my interviewer is a misogynist? Or a woman. Or a half-way decent human being? Didn’t think of that, did you Mr. Girls-have-an-advantage?

The other part of it is the group discussion or GD which apparently assesses how we work in a group. It’s better than the other two, because in this one we get to talk while they have to listen. These people however, have no concept of having a discussion about something which is interesting.

By the way, why is ‘love marriage vs.arranged marriage’ still such a popular topic in group discussions? I swear. There are like, a million other topics to choose from but no…they have to pick lousy stuff like this.
And it’s a big thing, mind you because my college is supposed to be strict and all. So the ‘love’ word is a big form of rebellion apparently. Only it falls totally flat because no one has anything of interest to say about it anyway.

The next one is ‘professionalism vs. family life’. Oh and ‘Do working women make bad mothers.’ Is this really the kind of stuff they’re going to ask us to discuss in an interview? Somehow, I’m very skeptical.

But some of these guys are good. For example, we had one dude come in today and talk to us about soft skills and he was pretty decent. He summed up his presentation with these seven points:

1. Find your passion
2. Dare to be different
3. Practice/ work towards it at every opportunity
4. If you feel like quitting – Don’t!
5. Never give excuses
6. Have fun – everyday
7. Be humble, be kind, be strong

I say, Amen.
This week wasn’t a complete waste of time, after all.

Domestic violence and fighting back

It's an ugly truth that countless women in India live with everyday. It struck too close to home this time and I decided that I should write about it.

As many as 70 per cent of married women in India between the ages of 15 and 49 are victims of beating, rape or coerced sex, according to the United Nation Population Fund report. Here's a link about Indian laws against domestic violence:

http://www.indiatogether.org/manushi/issue137/laws.htm

The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 can also be used against female members of a family, according to the Madras High Court Bench in Madurai. Also note that the complaint can be filed by someone other than the victim, like a relative.

It is sad that we still live in a society which makes these laws necessary. While some women come out with their stories and seek justice and a better life, many still believe in staying in a sinking marriage and suffer in silence, a state of affairs which must change.

While the reasons why you can't get out of a marriage may seem too huge to overcome, especially in India, it is nothing compared to the danger you're putting yourself in. If you think that your health, physical or mental, is being compromised in any way, get out. Fast. And don't even consider ending your life for what someone else has done to you. Suicide is the worst possible thing you can do in this situation. It solves nothing.

Know that it is neither shameful nor a mistake to walk out of a relationship in which you are being mistreated or abused, whether you are a man or a woman and remember the three A's that you should never put up with in any relationship:
Abuse,
Alcohol &
Addiction.






This graph shows the percentage of married women facing abuse in different states in India. As you can see, Tamil Nadu is somewhere near the top.

To change this, not only do we have to speak up and actively fight against it, but if you are a parent it is your duty to bring up your child with values of respect, equality and non-violence. Men and women are not born abusive. It is what they become. Make sure that your child will not grow up to be one.


I end this entry with a few helplines for women who are abused.

1.Snehdi
4, Ranganathan Street, T Nagar, Chennai (044) 2446293

2.The Banyan
6th Main Rd., Mogappair Eri Scheme, Chennai - 600 058 (044) 26530504 / 26530105

3.Women help Line - 1091

4.Child Line - 1098

5.Joint Action Council for Women - Chennai12, Rosary church road,
Mylapore, Chennai-600004
Phone no.: 91-44-24943827, 044-24990262

What's new? I say, what's not?

January's here, characteristically bringing the fog rolling in early in the mornings. It's really something to look out of the window of the bus and see nothing but a cloud of unyielding white all around you.

I've started reading The Fountainhead. To call it a good book is an understatement. It makes you look at yourself in a mirror, stripping you to nothing but what you do. It tells you that men aren't selfish but selfless because most of them have no sense of self.
It's also got the strangest antagonist I've come across: an intellectual, megalomaniac 'humanitarian' who cruelly destroys this sense of self by talking of selflessness and charity, by obliterating the truly good by glorifying the mediocre and the bad.

On a lighter note, I went to Blur, a gaming arcade in Sathyam today. It was awesome. It has three floors, each dedicated to different categories of gaming. The fourth floor is for the experienced gamers with definite gaming preferences, the fifth for wii lovers and the sixth is a typical arcade. I'm pretty much uninitiated in the joys of gaming, but from all the fun I had today, I can tell you it rocks.


Oh and by the way, say 'Happy birthday' to the Princess everyone! It was a little sad that the only part we played in her birthday was a conference call at midnight but I'm glad we had that at least. And it wasn't as if she was pining away for us, if the words 'blackjack' and 'poker' were anything to go by. Hey M, go easy on the gambling alright? Take pity on the poor souls whose fortunes you ruin.


I have a lot of movies to watch, plenty of books to read, a fun family, some extremely awesome friends, college work which might not actually bore me to death, MS-Word and good music. What more can I want? Or need.

Weird and wonderful

It’s been a strange week. I should be tired but I’m not. I should be scared but that hasn’t happened yet either. It’s a little out of character for me to be so optimistic. I wake up every morning, afraid that it will pass. I think back on when I didn’t feel this way and I don’t want to go back there. I’ve actually taken a couple of resolutions and surprisingly, I’m sticking to them.

Like I said, it’s been a strange week.

A New Year and a birthday later…

What beats lying under the stars on a full moon night, with people you enjoy being with, and talking about anything which comes to mind? Not a lot, really.

New Year started out with church. The sermon hasn’t changed so I can’t, in all honesty, say that I paid a lot of attention to it. The streets were quite busy at two in the morning which isn’t very surprising on New Year, I guess.

The real party started at around eight that night. And man, did we party.

It started out with a pizza and pasta dinner at Remy’s place, progressed to some fooling around with the camera and then we had a moonlit conversation about the kind of things which come out only when you're lying under the stars with your best friends.




At around 11:45, KD’s mom and dad took us out to Movenpick, an ice cream parlour in Nungambakkam, where KD’s dad managed to get us in before they closed and got us a cozy little room which was supposed to be the library. It even had a sign which declared in bold letters, ‘Sorry, section closed’. That was a hoot. So, we had ice cream and cut the cake at midnight. Twenty, at last.

We were pretty much high on the way to KD’s place. It was mostly spent in enlightening KD’s dad about Mocha (No uncle, we don’t think the place where you interviewed that guy was Mocha. We think you’d remember Mocha) and discussing what went wrong with a certain affair of the heart involving P. After we reached her place, KD’s elder bro accused us of making more noise than their two dogs and waking him up. He very nicely excluded me from the general accusation because it was my birthday, though. It warms my heart, N. Thank you.

‘Wake up, Sid’ is a really good movie, by the way. I couldn’t help liking it. Not your typical love story. It’s a story of growing up and change, which was very appropriate to the situation. That basically went on till 3 in the morning and then I crashed. My friends watched ‘What women want’ till five and still managed to get up at eight a.m. You know it’s the real thing when they do stuff like that for you.

At noon, we went to watch ‘3 idiots’. It was a funny movie. Clichéd, yes, but funny as hell in the parts where they weren’t crying or being philosophical. Actually, I thought it was funny when they cried too but that’s just me, I guess.

After the movie, we went to P’s place and then headed out to the beach where we ate a little of most of the things you can eat on the beach and talked about Charms’ and Kay’s trip to Punjab and Jaipur, lucky dogs.

Finally, I got back home and put away all the spoils of the day. I tell you, I cleaned up this time. Truly awesome gifts. I just want to say, you guys know me too well.

So that’s the story.
Frankly, this has been one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had because of every one of you who spent it with me and the effort you put in to make it as amazing as you could for me. And it was amazing, hands down.

And apart from my friends, my family totally rocks as well. How many people have an understanding family who doesn’t complain when you go out to spend your birthday with your friends, wearing a Linkin Park t-shirt and promising vaguely to be back ‘sometime the next day’? Thanks, mom.