Visa woes

With the impending wedding to the France-settled groom, the only thing remaining was to get the visa... Sure I have an admission letter.. a grant.. all the funds... the insurance and every conceivable thing on earth. So you would think getting the visa would be a piece of cake, right? Wrong. Its a whole week since I actively started the visa formalities and 20 days since I first did. And finally just yesterday I collected my passport with the visa splashed across its pages. My experience with Alliance Francais forced me to rechristen it as Alachal Francais... I have been there up and down a trillion times.. ok 4 times to be precise and spent no less than 6 hours each visit. Mr S there turned out to be real helpful but even then the stupid online form/system left a lot to be desired. It was forever before I could get the No Objection Certificate - something I believed trivial/unnecessary before I realized that the time I was investing at AF was essentially the time I would be saving at the consulate. And so Pa and I finally set off on Tuesday to Pondicherry where the consulate was situated. Having been told by many sources that the lines start forming at wee hours of the morning, we left the night before and got to a hotel in the hopes of finding ourselves at the start of the line early next morning.

5:00 AM - We were at the locked doors of the consulate, the first ones at the helm of the non-existant line only to be informed by the guard that no person in their right mind was going to come before 7:45AM to the consulate doors that opened at 8:00AM.

7:00 AM- The guard was right.. There wasn't an ee-kaka (housefly/crow) around.. It was the perfect situation to feed the rumbling stomach at Adyar Anand Bhavan.. And off we went.. A sumptuous breakfast later... there were still no people.

8:00 AM- There were 4 of us - the same 4 who made multiple trips to AF.. The consulate doors opened. I was first in and first out - all under 1 minute.. And the result? Visa approved. But pick up the passport the next day.

Nonsense. Multiple Pondy trips and a couple of sleepless nights later, I have my passport with the visa stamped.

A week to go. I am unlikely to blog until afterward.

The Manchurian Ravings

Yes.. I finally did it.. My maiden attempt - awesome yummy gobi manchurian.. It took 2 hours and it was all gone in 5 minutes. But it was worth every minute of the effort. And finally now that I can make it, the craving is gone.

Closing in...

The countdown began 10 months ago and now there's just 15 days to go... Good Lord! The rush has only just begun.....

Oru kozhaviyin diary

For those who don't know - a kozhavi is a honeybee.

Our house has always been the honeybee hub. Ever since I was little I remember the tiny kozhavis swarming the restroom in the chinna (little) room of our house. They used to bustle right up near the tiny window and build elaborate mansions which they would breed in and eventually abandon. Invariably we had the watchman clear the houses (hives) once the 'season' was over. Finally we netted up the window to prevent further incidents. But the kozhavis weren't to be fooled. They soon shifted base to the main window frame of the chinna room. I have always marveled at how hardworking the kozhavis were... They relentlessly brought in what I assume is mud and used some sticky body fluid to build their hives. (I have never seen any honey in the hive... it seemed just like a house for the bees to flock to every night). The structures got more elaborate and complicated as days passed. And soon we realized that not removing the hives earlier caused them to leave imprint patterns on the window or any other location which enabled them to find their way back again the next season.

The reason I remembered the kozhavis was that this time yet again they'd started building one at the same spot. My parents told me tales of how a large and very bustling colony had been constructed a few months ago. And due to an impending birth in the family, no one wanted to destroy the hive in case it rendered bad luck. This reminds me of a time when a bat found its way into the chinna room and lodged itself on the cupboard door. The poor thing had to be rescued from there and screeched in pain/terror till the watchman carefully set it free. And that incident of the other night when my bro was almost paralyzed with fear from the appearance of some animal which I have been fortunate not to sight. It seemed it was as large as a rat but looked like an insect and the watchmen claimed its nomenclature as a thundil on description. I can with no shame say that I would perhaps have fainted on such a sighting. Or the time a rat found its way in the house and we had no idea in which room it was - till we baited it by placing fruits in every room of the house and isolating it. It was the chinna room yet again. Back to the kozhavi - We had the housemaid dislodge the hive yesterday morning when the worker bees had all gone out. And we shut the window. Just when we thought we were done with them kozhavis, we saw one come in through the hall window desperately searching for its house perhaps. It is as my dad says - its the humans that need to be feared the most.

PS: We don't live in a jungle and our chinna room isn't filthy... But for some vague, weird reason its attracted almost all of the pests.

Chennai Chutzpah

Chennai has changed. I have said that each time in every post since I came to India. While many of the changes are the modernizations, this time I am out to crib. I can barely recognize the Chennai roads anymore and it has more to do with the traffic scene out there than the detours.

I accompanied my SIL-to-be yesterday to Ranganathan Theru.. (For the unfamiliar many, its this winding street in TNagar buzzling with trillion stores and million times as many people). She wanted to buy some jewelry at Saravana Stores (This is one of those multistoreyed stores that sell everything from a 50 paise to over 50 lakhs.. from clothes to jewelry to toys to furniture). We snaked our way into the street vaguely keeping sight of one another and tight hold on our purses and wound up at the door of the store. It took us 5 minutes to get to the entrance.. Once there we were informed rather rudely by one of the security fellows that we couldn't carry her sari upstairs to match it.. but instead we had to leave it underground, where there were many large puddles of dirty water from recent rains, I might add. We used my cell phone camera to capture a handy picture of the sari in case we needed to match it.. That done, we decided it was better to climb the 5 floors rather than wait for the overcrowded elevators. Once upstairs we were in for another surprise. They wanted to seal our handbags in large plastic bags lest we steal anything. I was exasperated with the security measures (I secretly don't blame them but wish they had something more fool-proof that didn't inconvenience the customers as much). Once in, there were sooo many people that I could barely feel any airconditioning (wonder if there was any), the salespeople were overworked and could barely tend to us... Everything took frustratingly long. And yet there were all these people there.. buying, screaming, billing, brushing across and what not. Either people have too much time or too much money or both. On restrospect the crowds were thronging because of Pongal perhaps. But still it was more than I could bear. I was getting rapidly claustrophobic and I thought I would pass out by the time we billed the small jimiki (jhumka) I bought there. And the worst part of it all was that we didnt find anything for my poor SIL. :(

I experienced Part II of the madness today when we went to Mylapore for yet another bout of shopping. The shopping part went on reasonably well and we went to the Saravana Bhavan nearby for a refreshing meal afterward. The trouble began here. Though the restaurant boasts an underground parking, of course on a Sunday evening, it was full. Appa and I parked at the far end of the street and took a hunger evoking walk to the restaurant. And once done, the fact that there was a Thiruvizha (a large fair) in the locality dawned on us. And that didn't help traffic at all. Add to that the cows and bulls that meander the streets lovingly making it their own. Oh and of course the humongous college buses which can dwarf any street when present on South Mada street prety much take all the place that there is. It took me and Appa about 40 minutes to drive the block around Kapaleeswarar Temple. When finally the roads cleared, I didn't know what hit me. Who ever thought things could get his crazy in Chennai? Chennai.. which was the most tranquil of the metros has transformed into something more sinister. Why can't all the roads become like the IT Highway (this road is right behind my house and has been paved into the highest quality road where the traffic flows away like butter) ? Hmph.

Separated

Anyone who knows me knows just how attached I am to my camera. But its been about a month now. And I haven't touched it. Believe it? Ever since I landed in Madras, I have stored the S2 IS in pa's cupboard locker. This for someone who took 1.2 gigs of pictures in her last India trip. And so it hasn't recorded many historic moments - maybe the first n last time I met M's A.. for now atleast... The Kadalais once more together... My last few single days at home... going out with the family, etc. I last used it amply at P's wedding. I realize how it has extended to being my third arm only when everyone around stops bringing their camera's around claiming J will have it.. only to be disappointed more than once. Now I kind of miss it. Its probably time to whip it out and use it the most I can.. now that S is arriving in a week.

The Manchurian cravings

When you have lived out of the country for more than 3 years, certain things start to matter more. Food.. time with parents and friends.. food.. you know what I'm getting at. When I arrived in Chennai, I found it incredibly hard to balance two core desires - the desire to remain the weight I was when I landed (if not lose more) and the desire to eat everything I craved. Evidently the second option won because my dad's been telling me that I have gained weight (I am yet to figure out whether thats just to panic me or if its true - the house doesn't own a weighing machine). I have curtailed most of my desires to eat out a whole lot.. and have been eating supervised (by me) home-cooked food with less oil, frying blah blue.. When you are a bride-to-be, such things start to matter much more than you thought possible. But as we friends made dinner plans a couple of weeks ago, the craving to eat Indian Chinese not only didn't fade away but became sooo much that I found myself telling M that I wanted Chinese and she had to suggest some place to go to. As she ticked off authentic Chinese places, I realized that I hadn't made it very clear that I craved indian-chinese particulary the gobi manchurian... that too roadside. I hastily corrected my cuisine choice illiciting a few laughs from her in the process. As we put our plans to action the next day, we couldn;t make to the place we wanted to. And improvising led us to a new 3-star place near my house.. somewhere I was certain it would be possible to get the coveted dish. But it wasn't to be. And I was left with its paler cousin, the gobi 65 - not half as good. And so it dragged. It seemed I was jinxed.. most places we went to didnt end up serving it. And the craving escalated to what I assume will be a pregnancy potency. And it required exclusive action. And so my dad schemed with me and we decided it was never going to happen by itself and we had to make exclusive plans and we stopped at the Besant Nagar fast food, a roadside delicatessan (the highest level word for a potti kadai) which served elaborate junk. And they took 35 minutes to make my dish... and my patience wore thin. It was worth every millisecond though when I sank my teeth in for that first bite. It was out of this world.

I have had 2 more plates of gobi manchurian since (without sharing) and have enjoyed every bite of it.. I hope I haven't packed as many pounds along the way.. What remains yet to-be-eaten are Murugan Idly's dishes, Eden's Continental and American Chopsuey... Ah.. I guess I'll leave somethings for me n the groom to dine out. :)

Happy New Year

2008. This is undoubtedly going to be one of the most memorable years in my life. And it begins tomorrow. There's been a lot to cheer about 2007- the most memorable being that my nephew was born.. That apart also, 2007 was a predominantly pleasing year.. The defense.. the graduation.. the multiple jobs... the new places, new friends and what not. Of course I wish many things were different. I wish I hadn't lived such a nomadic life. But I found new places, made new friends, made more contacts and gained priceless experience and everything has a positive spin to it. I am not going to complain. For now, its soo good to be home with the family to celebrate yet another new year with the conventional celebrations. The cake.. the TV.. the family.. the 12'o clock wishes and maybe a latenight drive around the city. Exactly as it has always been and probably will be.

Happy New Year 2008!

The French Window

Well finally I am sort of done with collecting the trousseau (this word was reintroduced to me by M - the no. of times she's used it at me!). The trousseau - those price piece of clothes that belong just in my wardrobe and were undeniably created just for me. Ok ok.. enough bragging, I know. But my point is not even the saris, themselves. But moreso, the blouses. It looks like the man (or woman in my case) in the wedding is not the groom but the tailor who makes the seemingly boring 80 cm bits of cloth into fashion statements... something that offsets the traditional drapes of the sari with a sense of style(ing) and indeed is a big headache for all brides-to-be for the blouses can make or entirely break the "look".

After ample research, a few trial blouses and a lot of cribbing later, I did zone in upon a tailor suggested by my SIL-to-be.. And I went over with a bagfull of pattu (zari) blouses. As this is strictly traditional wear, I thought I had to make the blouses reasonably fashionable to make the attire chic, young and trendy. I pored over the many books that the tailor showed me for the back designs which is indeed the only place you'd dare to experiment. And I thought I was being very thoughful in choosing the designs pertinent to the occasion.. like a pooja demanded a simple, traditional, prim n proper blouse... while the nalangu was the ideal time to experiment with the jennal(window), kadhavu (door) so-to-speak of back designs for the blouses. And then I spotted the perfect one... the french window. I suspect there's no need to explain any further.

Having confidently pointed out what designs I wanted for what blouses, 10 days later now, I am a bit wary of what the end result is going to be. Nights have turned into nightmares where the french window is a bit too wide and the knots a bit too many.. Add to that the tension that I should remain the size I was when I last gave the blouses for stitching (it may seem like a weird concern.. For anyone who thinks so, please come home and savor the food that my house serves doused in ghee, accompanied with sweets , et al.) In retrospect I fear that I may have experimented a wee bit too much and blah blah.. Okay, I realize I am hyperventilating.

For now, Happy New Year.

Price Check

Chennai has changed. Since I left for the US the first time and even since I came back once. The prices have skyrocketed. And even for a 'US return' like me it's shocking. I am still not at the opposite conversion stage where I can go - Movie Tickets Rs 120 - aww thats cheap, just $3. And I probably will never be. Where movie tickets were Rs 50 for balcony tickets to a stage in a mere 3 years where Rs 120 is considered cheap... Where CCDs (Cafe Coffee Days for the unfamiliar few) peddle measly portioned coffees for a cool 50 bucks (I was tempted to ask if they put gold filings in their coffee mix) Chennai (and I bet all the metros) has changed. Its going to take me a while to digest that a tiffin for 4 at Saravana Bhavan will cost Rs 400 - enough for a sumptuous meal for 5-6, 3 years ago. Chennai has become all savvy... with new new hep shopping malls sprouting all over the place. The mood is young and the theme shows. I think the days when Chennai was famous for the oorghas and madisaars is slowly becoming extinct. The new generation is in and everything's changing. I haven't decided if I am particularly taking to this change. Time will tell.

Roach Rundown

I patted down the final 1-rupee stamp of the day on the invitation envelope. I marveled at the work me n my dad had done. Mom asked me to count them up. 76 invites. 1 hour. Not bad at all. My granny handed me the mug of my nightly milk which is a kind of a habit here in India. I stacked all the envelopes to my right and then proceeded to sip my milk. My dad was sitting right opposite me and suddenly I caught the movement and the fear that ensued in his eye. In an instant, I'd jumped up, spilt half the milk - half on the ground and half on the stack of envelopes and fled away to the bedroom and banged the door shut. That movement could only be caused by the flutter of what we called a muchad - the baleful, disgusting flying cockroach. People who know me enough know that I am absolutely terrified of cockroaches of most varieties when they are big and the fear multiplies when they can fly. I stayed in with my ears trained on what was going on outside. My dad who is as petrified as I am had fled some place with a view where he could guide my patti - the only heroine in the story - capable of catching the monster. I heard the shouts of "anga paarungo.. on the curtain.. on the kitchen door, ulla", etc. before I heard the clang of vessels from the kitchen. It was inside there now. A few minutes later I heard Patti's triumphant knock on the bedroom door to announce to me that yet again she had won.

I walked out and surveyed the damage that I had wreaked during my escape from the roach. 5-6 addressed invites completely ruined, 3-4 that required drying and 5 unaddressed new ones completely ruined. Of course they say, don't count your chickens before the eggs hatch.

The Lost Memories

Soon after I got home, I set about doing what I didn't have time to do my last trip - Cleaning out my old shelves. My parents who give away my clothes no sooner than I have departed the country have preserved shelves and shelves of my old stuff for posterity. As I sifted through the bottom shelf of my mom's cupboard (which belongs to me), it struck me like she'd preserved reminders of a lost child. Especially below stacks and stacks of neatly piled saris. None of the things I found on that shelf resembled anything I would own now. Colorful, new and unopened love-in-tokyos (for the unfamiliar few, its the old-fashioned hair clips), multicolored pearl necklaces, unused makeup kits (the fancy multi-storeyed drawer type goods with the eye shadows on one segment, the blushes on the other, etc.), plastic bangles, inexpensive stringy handbags, plastic watches, my vanity cases filled with loopy earrings, pearl chains, bizarre pendants, and a purse brimming with notes that we'd passed to one another through Engineering at HCE amongst other insignificant trinkets. My eyes wandered to the other half of the room - my open suitcase strewn with stuff I carried with me this time. Makeup from Dior, perfume from Guerlain, a couple of FastTrack watches, a Liz Clairborne handbag amongst a mixture of western and Indian clothes... all this for a girl who's certainly not brand conscious (anyone will vouch for that). The message between the two extremes was an easy one to read. The girl had grown up.

Crass or is it just me?

I came to India via Bahrain. And the Gulf is as most people know a big big Desi hub... much bigger than the US can ever be.. maybe coz of the magnitudes of the countries involved. My dad used to work in the Gulf till about 10 years ago.. I have lived in the Gulf, liked the stay there and even considered a part lost when I had to abruptly return during the Gulf War. Yet today when I came, I was rudely aware of the sheer crassness of the people there. I couldn't find a better word here to describe my feeling even if I wanted to. Seeing the ocean of Indian people around me in the Bahrain-Chennai flight made a twinge... sad. Was it that the US had changed me and my perceptions forever? Or was it that when I lived in and liked the Gulf, I was a little kid and barely knew what I liked. What did I like? Staying as a family there and going out shopping with dad? Buying toys? Watching movies? Pretty basic. But what I saw today awakened to me that I had changed. My expectations, perceptions and feeling towards things had changed. When I saw this ocean of crude Desis, bringing in 5-6 duty-free bags of goods each (where you are allowed 2 at most), drinking to heart's content just coz in-flight drinks are free, pulling the air hostess' arm to get her attention, shoving in 5 passports and the corresponding immigration forms to fill while I have my eyes closed and was attempting to sleep just coz they don't know English, throwing up from excessive drinking, not flushing the toilets- I visually cringed. The Gulf Air airbus was just that - a bus in the air. Filled to capacity, people spraying obviously cheap perfume before disembarking (which engulfs you in unpleasant scent as well) and the icing to the cake - this guy who thought that the front of the plane was my face. He was sitting in front of me (or was supposed to be), but was angled perpendicular - feet on the aisle - directly staring at me... and whenever I caught him, would pretend to look past me down the aisle. Though not the variety at all, I had had enough and complained to the flight attendant. Am I too Americani-ized or is this a bit much for anyone?

On an entirely different note, home sweet home. :)

The Great Indian Educational Reprieve

Note: This is a long one

I am an Engineer. Why? I have no actual idea. I took Engineering because I didn't get into Medicine and because my brother did it. Both reasons pretty lousy if you ask me. Why did I take Electronics? Brother dear of course... Why did he do Engineering? Actually, I'll ask him when I meet him tomorrow. But I think I've conveyed my point. From what I have discussed with friends, I have discovered that very few, if any, had any idea what they were getting into with engineering (or anything else for that matter)... everyone thought all you needed was to be fundamentally sound in Mathematics and Physics - both key components, but not the main ones. The important questions that needed to have been answered back then -

1. Was there passion? - Probably not back then.. We had no idea what we were going to be doing..
2. Motivation? - Would good money and a nice-sounding degree qualify?

That is the fundamental problem with the Indian educational system (please discount IIT and BITS - they're the only worthwhile undergraduate institutions for technical study in India). As I was discussing with GH just now, the high school education in India rocks.. when compared to most other countries... We beat China sheerly because most of our schools are English medium.. We beat all other countries hands down because we really don't need a calculator to do 5+4x9-7/6 (yeah it takes a few seconds.. but we're never completely lost) amongst other things.

The problems

1. Learning by the rote: I wonder why we need to know the derivation of E = mc2 when we can just as easily find it on the Internet or something - you may say that the Internet didn't exist back then, blah blah - but when technology has evolved, the educational system needs to have coped alongside for the most effective development. When I came here and was introduced to the concept of the "cheat sheet", I was initially flabbergasted. But the more I read into it, the more it made sense. Its the Sherlock Holmes logic. Why crowd your brain with information you can find in our case, a search query away?

2. Progressive Evaluation: While the high school I was in was known for its continuous evaluation which ensured most of my fundamentals were right (though I cursed it back then). Back in Engineering, I don't remember "learning" anything. It was 4 years of carefree fun, a few days of cramming before the semester exams, practically no homework, easygoing labs and just one final year project which many people ended up "buying". I wrote a post about our exams back then. While that was in light vein, on a serious note, it left us a little unprepared for a competitive educational system like that in the US. When I came here, I was amazed by the range of knowledge and practical experience that the senior students (our high school equivalents) had accumulated over a range of topics. Though I coped great with grad school, I couldn't help but feel cheated with the undergraduate system that left me quite unprepared for the future. This is not how it works in the BITS and the IITs and thats exactly how the rest of the colleges in India need to implement.

3. Autonomous Universities: Each University here in the US is just the equivalent of each of our colleges back in India which is affiliated to a University. But the system here is so sound that they have complete autonomy in all their distinction and no matter where you study it is deemed prestigious. While it is going to take a while in India for that to happen, I see no change with those restricted few colleges that have gained autonomous privileges (eg. whats different in Sathaybama from when they became autonomous to when they remained affiliated? - Nothing). The system slowly but surely has to change.

4. The Teachers: Yes - Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam.. But you need to be able to respect the Guru. And there are exceptions to every generalization. We have seen our share of mentors back in India as well.. there have been some phenomenal motivators. But for every single one of them, we have 100 others who finish their education at one college and start teaching the next semester at the same college, with just a graduate degree. This could never ever happen in the US. Every professor has to have a PhD for a reputed institution. He/She has to bring in some grants/money and conduct research or lead academic discussions. They have a range of students from post docs to undergraduates working for them, expanding their ideas and their research. Its a whole pool. The kind of respect that you gain when you work under a professor, your advisor/mentor borders on reverence here.. something which I haven't been able to feel back in India. I will comment about the educational system in the Europe shortly.

5.The jobs: Every person who has an Engineering degree seems directly to be entitled to employment in the software industry. And frankly no one cares whether the degree is in Mechanical or Civil engineering. The pay is good and thats all that seems to matter. Pretty sad if you ask me. That goes back to there being no direction or passion in the study that one has entailed. The 4 year education was a stop over to making the money. I can actually understand that in some families where the whole family has made many sacrifices to educate the one stellar student in the hopes that the job he/she gets at the end of the education will uplift the financial situation of the entire family. Whats sad is that the availability of specific jobs as per fields of specialization pale in comparison with the abundant high-paying software jobs. Yes, the quality of living has improved for the recent generation in India and all is owed to these software giants.. but it is still unsettling.

And those are just some fundamental problems. The more I think about it, the more that there is. Personally, I am not surprised about the Brain Drain in the intial stages, i.e. say after a Bachelors degree, simply because the post graduate study in India leaves a lot to be desired for in terms of recognition and reward. But I take heart in that I see many people returning. After that initial stay abroad, after that first job after the education. It is happening slowly, but in larger numbers. And this I am proud of. I started this post so long ago that I can't remember what I wanted to conclude from it... But I suppose this is the bottomline. The educational minister of India and every teacher who cares needs to evaluate this system for what it is and make the necessary reforms to improve it.. to introduce the world class quality that is desired of it.. to make it a force to reckon with. After all, they don't say India is the next big super power for nothing, do they?

Om Shanti Om

Note: Spoilers ahead.

All I knew when we were going to go see OSO was that it was something to do with the 70s, that Deepika Padukone was supposed to be very very goodlooking and SRK had a new six-pack. All of these ideas were garnered through promos of the songs in SS's house. That was before SS was kind enough to tell me that the story involved reincarnation. Not that I expected anything from the movie, but when I heard the theme, I completely threw away every iota of expectation and logic in my head.

We underestimated the popularity of a SRK/Farah Khan/Bollywood movie and arrived fashionably late at 7:03 pm for a 7:00 show. Not bad, we told ourselves. That was before we stepped into the tiny theatre. It was packed and the noisy desi crowd was laughing, crunching popcorn and talking over the promos of many more movies to come. We waded our way all the way to the front, some 7 rows from the screen and looked up at the massive screen. At first, it took some getting used to... By the time my eyes scanned the length from the left of the screen to the right, the scene had changed. It was funny really. Us girls had subconsciously decided to throw the brains away and have a blast.

And a blast, we did have... The first half was amazingly funny and after Main Hoon Na and now Om Shanti Om, I can safely say that I like Farah Khan's style in direction. She is not afraid to make SRK look stupid and dress him up in red leather, in his skin or even the ridiculous wigs in the movie. And everything is soo obviously melodramatic and overexaggerated that the audience is left in peals of laughter. There is absolutely no logic as suspected and the spoofs of Manoj Kumar, Dharmendra, etc were also very entertaining. While SRK plays the comic relief with his sidekick, Iqbal fame - Shreyas Talpade, Deepika Padukone impresses with her elegant 70s do. She looks very refreshing and as the movie progressed, my opinion of her from "Ok what's so great about her" changed to "Wow.. she is very goodlooking". And not just that. She can act too! My favorite sequence in the first half is when SRK spoofs I am assuming Rajnikant in a flying-shooting-tiger fighting sequence with his funny "Enna rascala" and "Mind it.. Never mind it and Find it". It was hilarious and I was roaring so much that I had tears from laughing. Haha.

By the end of the first half, tragedy of unrequited love on either side and the heinous plans of the appreciable villainous producer played by Arjun Rampal have surfaced. And the intermission comes in when both lead characters die. And then comes the story of the reincarnation, past memories and what not. Completely unbelievable, unexpressibly tacky and way corny, the second half seems to drag a bit with a bhooth sentiment woven in the fabric. But the drag is lulled a bit by the appearance of the "star song" where all of Bollywood makes an appearance. I also especially liked the teeny cameos by Akshay and Abhishek. Conspicuous in her absence was Aishwarya. Frankly though, I have tired of seeing Rani/Kajol/Preity make an appearance in all these songs. As for SRK's six-pack, I must say that the man looks fabulous neck-down for his age. His face gives him away. The lack of proportionate arm muscle makes his body look too taut on his frame and not as natural as it is on say, Hrithik (sigh).

All in all, the movie is a complete entertainer, completely predictable, totally laughable and a sure watch if you don't have much to do. Its a certain time-pass and from what I have seen of some recent movies, (LCMD or Darling for example), a sure sound choice. I particularly liked SRK's goofiness (It was such a relief not to see him weep because of some idiotic ultrasentimental love story), the date song sequence and both the Om Shanti Om songs... Music's catchy if not phenomenal. To bolo Ommm Shanti Ommmmm.

Birthday Blues?

Note: To everyone, who called, mailed, sent ecards, scrapped, thank you very very much. You made the day that much extra-special. :)

My Birthday. Its over. And surprisingly, this time I didn't have that rush, that unbridled excitement that I used to have when I turned 16 or 18 or even 21. I guess thats what happens when you turn mid-twenty something (you didn't think I was going to reveal the numbers, did you?) I had a fantastically normal day, except for the cell phone jingling every few minutes all morning. It began with a super chocolate cake that SM had baked at night, lunch with a sweet colleague in the morning, and ended with the San Diego jing-bang for dinner, dessert and gang talk. Simple and sweet. None of the cake-on-your-face-and-hair business. Sort of the perfect end to the perfect stay at San Diego.

Help!!!

I am in desparate need of help.. I am leaving this country. And as I pack, I realize that I have accumulated more stuff than I could've possibly imagined! I am making my bro bring one of my suitcases and even then, I am left with at least 3 suitcasefuls of luggage... Thats coz I am lugging humungous books and I cannot leave them behind. And I came with 3 in place of 2 s most people did.. And though I threw away as many clothes as I possibly could, I am still left with sooo many things. Crap! One excess baggage costs $110. There has got to be a better way to this... Is there some form of international freight shipping that I am missing out on? I don't know. But if someone does, please please leave me a comment. On the other hand, if one of you friends of mine is coming to India soon and has space for some stuff, lemme know as well... I will happily give you something to carry. I appreciate any form of assistance. :) Thank you.

Happy Diwali!

First up, here's wishing all of you and your families a very Happy and Safe Diwali!!


I gave it a lot of thought, but my sentiments remain unchanged from last year. Read my Diwali post here. Have a fabulous Diwali and a colorful year ahead. I know I will ;)

The USA Memoirs

Note: Another one of those USA Nostalgia posts...

The Miss list

1. Cincinnati - Its the place I've spent most of my USA life.. over 2/3rds of it anyways.. It holds my fondest memories. So it comes down to the mile radius that I existed in... with no car, with 4 of us crammed into a single-bedroom apartment hauling groceries to our basement apartment, the walk in the snow to school, the many many seminar rooms and classrooms that I have been couped up in writing my thesis, the Mainstreet Mart which was my personal Felix Felicis provider of Chai Tea, importantly my last 6 months in Cincinnati ever since S got his Solara and became the 5th roommate almost literally.. Even as he moved away from campus, he moved closer to us and we saw the real Cincinnati through the Solara that he had... The umpteen restaurants, the late Friday nights as we flopped with all of our laptops, did all our theses work and ran a parallel vein of conversations well into the night with the TV blaring some nonsense.. the evening chais at the Morgens verandahs, the latenight Clue with the roomies... crazy, unprecendented, irrepeatable fun.

2. San Diego - Just when I thought I had had the most of living a student life back in Cinci and had left my days back there, I moved in with SM and literally right in the middle of her friend's circle. And work life couldn't have been more fun... As a new gang that got together with multitude connections interwoven around us, it seemed like we couldn't get enough of each other. We meet almost every night.. for a movie... for dinner.. for dessert...for gym... for meeting. We're all professionals and we're all a wee bit crazy in the evenings when we get together. Be it cycling, be it just eating out, this gang has ensured that my last few days in the US are truly memorable. Thanks SM.

3. Few good friends - Some of my most cherished friendships were grounded here. You guys know who you are. I am glad I found you guys here.. Life really wouldn't have been the same without all those bitching sessions, nightouts and the solid support system that you guys formed around me. This also includes my handful of friends from India who are here as well.. Together, this network was my backbone in the US. And I want each one of you at the wedding. :)

4. The seasons - I have been spoiled by the East Coast.. I have seen 4 distinct seasons each year. And it's been brilliant. I have thoroughly enjoyed the brilliant colors of Fall, the flakes of snow in Winter, the sticky Summers and pleasantly rainy Springs. Fabulous!

5. The cuisines - Well, it all has to come down to food, doesn't it? Hailing from the country of spices, most of us Indians find it unsettling here in the US where steak and red meat rule, especially if you are vegetarian like me. But the varied cuisine is something I could've experienced just here... maybe to hunt for something veggie in any cuisine, maybe out of sheer interest. I have now developed for a whole bunch of cuisines, Italian, Mediterranean, Greek, Mexican, you name it. Technically the land I am headed to is very likely to have just as many cuisines, but this is where I fell in love with food. Before the US, I was never really hungry. My Patti took care of that.. feeding me at periodic intervals, hungry or not.

6. The malls - Yes, I have been in the Gulf. And I have seen the vast vast malls or soukhs as they are called out there. So yes I wasn't daunted by the huge Walmarts and Targets here the way some others have. But in the Gulf, Appa bought us everything we ever wanted. Out here, I had my money, my needs and my discretion to buy stuff. And I enjoyed it. I splurged sometimes, scrimped some others and had a blast overall..

7. The deals - Money rules... when you save it. Before the US I have probably not realized the value of electronics or the importance perhaps. Here I have been spoiled by the deals.. by the variety of things and the greed of requiring things... I have bought my famed camera, umpteen memory supplements, and the thirst hasn't been half-quenched. But then, it never will.

Three years of my life... A lifetime of memories. Fully worth it.

Bye Bye USA

Note: These set of blogs are going to be doused in nostalgia, sprinkled with inconsistency and sprayed with fond memories. This is a part of my USA memoirs.

As I near the end of my stay in the US, with less than a month away, what am I feeling?

Its one of those complex questions and merely by not thinking about it, I have successfully avoided answering it. But its a big question and its been creeping in a little by little as the days come to an end. And living each day for it's merit is slowly drawing to a close. As I was consolidating my stuff and trying to pack everything, it hit me. This is it. I don't know when I am ever coming back again. If I am ever coming back again. As a professional? As a tourist? As a dependent? Ever? No clue. And that riles me. When we all left India to pursue our dreams in this Land of Opportunity, we were never really leaving India. We would always go back. Our roots were there and every vacation began with the Indian dream. But this is entirely different. What does it mean to leave a country where your personal identity was established? Where you first figured what being independent was? First lived away from home, paid your own bills, made ends meet, tried your hand at cooking, woke up to an alarm? Maybe all of this means nothing to someone who has had the "hostel" experience back home too. But for me it was all a first. And most of it was exhilarating. I was completely free to do as I liked. I could come and go as I pleased to wherever with whoever and I was free to choose my activities and everything about my life. Having been raised by very liberal parents, I have little reason to complain. But that was still different. We had to tell Amma we would be late coming home. And late still meant before 11:30 at night. Even as I leave the country to fall into stride with my matrimonial plans, with my future academic plans, my life is yet again entwined with at least one more individual's if not more. My decisions will now impact more than just me. I have grown up. And I have grown past the famed single phase as well. Did I make the most of it while it lasted? Looking back, I think I did. I made some of my closest associations with people over here... Gained a few precious friends, made many business contacts, saw many famed places out here (I haven't seen the Grand Canyon - it's going to have to wait for later), etc. etc. Its a mixed emotion. Maybe coz what I have to look forward to is soo exciting, I tend to believe I won't miss the US much (I bet I will miss the "deals" mainly on electronics - but what are friends for?)

Are they any regrets? Honestly - No. I have realized a place is only as good as what you make of it. With the right company, even a place like Ames seemed fun. I have been fortunate to find joy in the loneliest quarters. I will miss being a cell-phone call away from many many dear friends... But I am sure we'll all find a way to communicate just as well all the same. For now, I look forward to what has got to be the best chapter(s) in my life.