Thursday, January 21, 2010
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Numero Uno- H'bad
We left for Hyderabad on 3rd night(Friday) by Charminar Express.
I don’t know if you are aware about this new system in our trains. There is a middle birth in the side too. Yes. Very sad, I know.
However, this sparked off some protests and by the first of march, this was supposed to be non-existent. But all the passengers sat in this fashion. The whole train was a mess. Half the people said it was there, the rest half were refusing to budge from their places. Finally when the TTC came, he changed all our seats- without a side middle. It was one big confusion. By the end of all this, it was about 7. Our bay had a woman with two kids- one a baby and another a 6 year old boy, and her dad. My god! They were such a pain! Really, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this. I mean, imagine waking up a kid who is asleep and thrusting watermelon down his throat!
Anyway, the rest of the night was uneventful, thankfully. We had dinner and went to sleep. Surprisingly I slept pretty well, given the fact that I don’t usually sleep in the train.
We got off at Secunderabad station next morning. We took an auto to the hotel. What was very nice was, the auto driver actually refused to take us, but all the other fellows insisted that he could not refuse and had to take us. I was impressed, considering namma Chennai autokaarans! :D
Our hotel was supposed to be Belson’s Taj Mahal. The auto guy dropped us at Taj Tristar and went off. So we had to walk upto our hotel, which thankfull was on the same road.
The hotel and all was okay, except there would be power cut for 3 hours in the morn and 3 hours in the evening. However, we had the generator.
The first day itself we decided to go sightseeing. So we hired a car; a non ac car, since we didn’t expect it to be too hot. But how wrong we were!
Our first stop was at Salarjung Museum. It’s the largest museum that has one man’s collection of antiques. However, we got a little bored and tired by the end of the running in and out of the rooms.
One attraction at the museum was a singing clock. Like the cuckoo, a man comes out at every hour and rings a bell. As in, he strikes a mini bell with a stick. It’s a cute thing, several hundred years old. We caught the 12 ‘o’ clock strike just in time.
We had some lunch at the museum canteen itself. One man dropped his full dosa, chutney, sambar and all on the ground over there. Hee hee.
Then we went to Charminar. We climber upto the first floor. I believe, this monument was closed to the public because five sisters committed suicide from the top floor about 16 years ago. Now they keep only the first floor open.
One can see the High Court, Osmania University, Mecca Masjid, Laad Bazaar and various other places from the Charminar. Something bout this ancient building charmed me.
Next we went to Chowmahalla Palace. This Nizam’s palace was a sprawling palaceof several acres, having many mini palaces within it. This was a little exhausting and boring.
Our next destination was the Golconda Fort. We managed to climb until the top of the fort. The view was magnificient! This is the place where when you clap at the entrance, people can hear at the top of the fort. I was amazed. I had only heard about this.
We came back down for the sound and light show. It was only a quarter past six, and the show was only at seven, but we decided to wait. We wanted to catch the show from the first row. Then something frustrating happened. A group of people came in at a quarter to seven and happily put chairs in front and sat. My mom got so angry, (those of yo know her, should know) and she became her sarcastic self to those people. Evidently, they were some VIPs. This is when I really think our country has not progressed. What was worse was that no one else protested. Truly frustrating.
The sound and light show was really good. With Amitabh Bacchhan’s voice over and nice lightings, the show was good except for the two times when the current went off. The whole thing was about the history of Hyderabad and Golconda. You could check it up on the net, I don’t want to be a history writer.
We came back to the hotel, tired and weary. I don’t even remember what dinner we had. When we came back to the room, the AC was not working! But we didn’t realise.
We were so tired that we slept off anyway.
I don’t know if you are aware about this new system in our trains. There is a middle birth in the side too. Yes. Very sad, I know.
However, this sparked off some protests and by the first of march, this was supposed to be non-existent. But all the passengers sat in this fashion. The whole train was a mess. Half the people said it was there, the rest half were refusing to budge from their places. Finally when the TTC came, he changed all our seats- without a side middle. It was one big confusion. By the end of all this, it was about 7. Our bay had a woman with two kids- one a baby and another a 6 year old boy, and her dad. My god! They were such a pain! Really, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this. I mean, imagine waking up a kid who is asleep and thrusting watermelon down his throat!
Anyway, the rest of the night was uneventful, thankfully. We had dinner and went to sleep. Surprisingly I slept pretty well, given the fact that I don’t usually sleep in the train.
We got off at Secunderabad station next morning. We took an auto to the hotel. What was very nice was, the auto driver actually refused to take us, but all the other fellows insisted that he could not refuse and had to take us. I was impressed, considering namma Chennai autokaarans! :D
Our hotel was supposed to be Belson’s Taj Mahal. The auto guy dropped us at Taj Tristar and went off. So we had to walk upto our hotel, which thankfull was on the same road.
The hotel and all was okay, except there would be power cut for 3 hours in the morn and 3 hours in the evening. However, we had the generator.
The first day itself we decided to go sightseeing. So we hired a car; a non ac car, since we didn’t expect it to be too hot. But how wrong we were!
Our first stop was at Salarjung Museum. It’s the largest museum that has one man’s collection of antiques. However, we got a little bored and tired by the end of the running in and out of the rooms.
One attraction at the museum was a singing clock. Like the cuckoo, a man comes out at every hour and rings a bell. As in, he strikes a mini bell with a stick. It’s a cute thing, several hundred years old. We caught the 12 ‘o’ clock strike just in time.
We had some lunch at the museum canteen itself. One man dropped his full dosa, chutney, sambar and all on the ground over there. Hee hee.
Then we went to Charminar. We climber upto the first floor. I believe, this monument was closed to the public because five sisters committed suicide from the top floor about 16 years ago. Now they keep only the first floor open.
One can see the High Court, Osmania University, Mecca Masjid, Laad Bazaar and various other places from the Charminar. Something bout this ancient building charmed me.
Next we went to Chowmahalla Palace. This Nizam’s palace was a sprawling palaceof several acres, having many mini palaces within it. This was a little exhausting and boring.
Our next destination was the Golconda Fort. We managed to climb until the top of the fort. The view was magnificient! This is the place where when you clap at the entrance, people can hear at the top of the fort. I was amazed. I had only heard about this.
We came back down for the sound and light show. It was only a quarter past six, and the show was only at seven, but we decided to wait. We wanted to catch the show from the first row. Then something frustrating happened. A group of people came in at a quarter to seven and happily put chairs in front and sat. My mom got so angry, (those of yo know her, should know) and she became her sarcastic self to those people. Evidently, they were some VIPs. This is when I really think our country has not progressed. What was worse was that no one else protested. Truly frustrating.
The sound and light show was really good. With Amitabh Bacchhan’s voice over and nice lightings, the show was good except for the two times when the current went off. The whole thing was about the history of Hyderabad and Golconda. You could check it up on the net, I don’t want to be a history writer.
We came back to the hotel, tired and weary. I don’t even remember what dinner we had. When we came back to the room, the AC was not working! But we didn’t realise.
We were so tired that we slept off anyway.
Friday, March 27, 2009
WIsh with a hole!
Its been a season of birthdays lately. Lots of people I know have grown a year older.
I’m this whiz at remembering birthdays. I rarely forget them, especially if the person matters to me. I dutifully call them as soon as I get up and wish them; sing a happy birthday sometimes. And If it’s a “mattering” person I buy them a gift. That’s quite a process, you know. My mom keeps saying the gift should be what the person likes, it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I disagree. Strongly. I always look out for gifts that:
The person would like
I like
Fits my budget
Is not repetitive
Most often are unique.
Imagine giving your friend something you don’t like. Everytime I’d see it and go “Ewww”. And then realise that I’ve given that to her/him myself. And I generally make it a point to give something handmade too.
I’ve been thinking about this whole thing. I call up someone, wish them, get a “thank you” and have a put-on conversation about what the person is going to do, what he/she got as gifts…etc, etc… It all feels hollow.
Because, honestly…when I say “Happy Birthday”, I wonder if I really mean it. Do I really hope with my heart that the person has a happy day? Most often, its frustrating to find, I don’t.
It’s just a hollow utterance of words.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I do really mean it. And then I feel good. And selfless.
I’m working on it. Honestly. So next time its your birthday, and I wish you..be rested and assured, I’m saying it with all my heart!!
I’m this whiz at remembering birthdays. I rarely forget them, especially if the person matters to me. I dutifully call them as soon as I get up and wish them; sing a happy birthday sometimes. And If it’s a “mattering” person I buy them a gift. That’s quite a process, you know. My mom keeps saying the gift should be what the person likes, it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I disagree. Strongly. I always look out for gifts that:
The person would like
I like
Fits my budget
Is not repetitive
Most often are unique.
Imagine giving your friend something you don’t like. Everytime I’d see it and go “Ewww”. And then realise that I’ve given that to her/him myself. And I generally make it a point to give something handmade too.
I’ve been thinking about this whole thing. I call up someone, wish them, get a “thank you” and have a put-on conversation about what the person is going to do, what he/she got as gifts…etc, etc… It all feels hollow.
Because, honestly…when I say “Happy Birthday”, I wonder if I really mean it. Do I really hope with my heart that the person has a happy day? Most often, its frustrating to find, I don’t.
It’s just a hollow utterance of words.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I do really mean it. And then I feel good. And selfless.
I’m working on it. Honestly. So next time its your birthday, and I wish you..be rested and assured, I’m saying it with all my heart!!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Who said there is a BFF?
People say that friends are family you choose. People also say that there is always one person in a family who always gives, and the others are so used to this, that they never learn to do so.
Maybe I’m too sensitive. Maybe I over react to situations.
I’ve always wanted this particular best friend. I have this image I’ve created of him/her in my mind with vivid details, right from the person’s dress sense to his/ her voice. I sometimes even try to imagine how that person would react to certain situations.
Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Lots of people say that there is no ideal best friend.
I don’t believe that.
So whom am I kidding when I call someone who doesn’t fit into my mould my best friend? Worse still, I’ve put three people into that category. Three people who probably have a zero-point-five percent of the qualities, each.
No doubt, they’re great people. They’ve been there for me almost whenever I needed them. But I never got what I expected.
Then again, I shouldn’t expect anything out of friendship.
Honestly, is that possible? Can you carry on a relationship(s) without expectations?
I’ve always been the kind of friend I wanted to them three. I’ve always tried to understand them, make them my family, but it was never reciprocated.
Each time this happened, I only felt more and more miserable.
Perhaps this was because it was a quadrilateral relationship(!). Maybe I felt threatened and insecure by the others. I was always closer to one of them, I still am;- but she is the kind who does the right thing. She balances her relations with all equally. It is no wonder that I feel emotionally drained then. I’m getting much much lesser than I give.
I’ve learned to stop fantasising now. I just accept the friends I have. My ideal best friend is wiped off my mind.
My mind feels clean now. And I, much stronger. To bounce back and be the life in my group of friends. To be the butt of jokes and be the clown. And to be easily bugged, but the one you can surely count on.
Maybe I’m too sensitive. Maybe I over react to situations.
I’ve always wanted this particular best friend. I have this image I’ve created of him/her in my mind with vivid details, right from the person’s dress sense to his/ her voice. I sometimes even try to imagine how that person would react to certain situations.
Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Lots of people say that there is no ideal best friend.
I don’t believe that.
So whom am I kidding when I call someone who doesn’t fit into my mould my best friend? Worse still, I’ve put three people into that category. Three people who probably have a zero-point-five percent of the qualities, each.
No doubt, they’re great people. They’ve been there for me almost whenever I needed them. But I never got what I expected.
Then again, I shouldn’t expect anything out of friendship.
Honestly, is that possible? Can you carry on a relationship(s) without expectations?
I’ve always been the kind of friend I wanted to them three. I’ve always tried to understand them, make them my family, but it was never reciprocated.
Each time this happened, I only felt more and more miserable.
Perhaps this was because it was a quadrilateral relationship(!). Maybe I felt threatened and insecure by the others. I was always closer to one of them, I still am;- but she is the kind who does the right thing. She balances her relations with all equally. It is no wonder that I feel emotionally drained then. I’m getting much much lesser than I give.
I’ve learned to stop fantasising now. I just accept the friends I have. My ideal best friend is wiped off my mind.
My mind feels clean now. And I, much stronger. To bounce back and be the life in my group of friends. To be the butt of jokes and be the clown. And to be easily bugged, but the one you can surely count on.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
To celebrate or not, that is the question!
We were all born one day on this earth. Yes, I know that’s an absolutely vague thing to say. But here’s more. It becomes a choice, beyond a point, that one makes whether or not to celebrate this existence. One could be very philosophical and mature and decide not to. After all, what’s to celebrate in growing a year older? Or, on the other hand you could splurge;- buy an expensive gift, eat out at a five star and treat your friends at a hep café. The other choices- dinner with family, call friends over, slumber parties, visits to orphanages, blah, blah and more blah. I mean, I’m not ridiculing any of these.
I ridicule other people.
Who say they don’t want to celebrate their birthday at all. Or worse still, have a show-off birthday party.
For example, if you are vegetarian, stick to your principles. Why serve non-vegetarian at your birthday bash? Its your birthday, so what if your friend are not vegetarians? They aren’t going to die of starvation or anything that one day.
The other kinds. The ones who say they don’t want to celebrate their birthday. Even their fifteenth. This could be because of three reasons. One, the person is too miserly to spend money for their own birthday. Two, the person is of such high maturity level that he/she should be considered an elevated soul (At fifteen!). Three, some grief has befallen the person.
I love to celebrate my birthday. Its bang in the middle of the exam season(I cant help that, can I?). It’s a special day for me. It makes me feel special in this huge world, where fame, money and power seem to be the only things that could get things to go your way.
But, at the end of the day, it’s a personal choice. I can do nothing about people who think differently.
I ridicule other people.
Who say they don’t want to celebrate their birthday at all. Or worse still, have a show-off birthday party.
For example, if you are vegetarian, stick to your principles. Why serve non-vegetarian at your birthday bash? Its your birthday, so what if your friend are not vegetarians? They aren’t going to die of starvation or anything that one day.
The other kinds. The ones who say they don’t want to celebrate their birthday. Even their fifteenth. This could be because of three reasons. One, the person is too miserly to spend money for their own birthday. Two, the person is of such high maturity level that he/she should be considered an elevated soul (At fifteen!). Three, some grief has befallen the person.
I love to celebrate my birthday. Its bang in the middle of the exam season(I cant help that, can I?). It’s a special day for me. It makes me feel special in this huge world, where fame, money and power seem to be the only things that could get things to go your way.
But, at the end of the day, it’s a personal choice. I can do nothing about people who think differently.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Colonial Hangover
Watch Taare Zameen Par. If you already have, watch it another time; because only when you watch a movie the second time, do you really realise what has gone into it. (The first time we are too busy following the story line, to notice detail) Its tagline says 'Every child is special'. Indeed, every one is special.
Its ridiculous how we judge people. Even more ridiculous when we judge the person by his or her car, or clothes, or even grades! Most ridiculous when we label them as “abnormal”.
While Taare leaves you with a wet hanky and puffy eyes, it somehow urges you to do something. But what do I do? I couldn’t possibly adopt a kid.
All I can think of doing is just telling people about it. You don’t like it when people stare at you, do you? Well, then, what makes you think that special children are any different? They are special, allright, doesn’t mean you treat them like crap.
They have an equal right to live in this world. Even if you cant help them don’t harm them atleast.
TZP screamed this message out loud. And it got recognized in India for its marvellous direction(debut), songs and actors.
And then came along Slumdog Millionaire. Raising controversies about its title and showing India in so called “bad light” only gave it more publicity, and soon the film which could not even sell its rights had turned hero.
It was undoubtedly a good movie. I just couldn’t think why people were making such a big to-do about the whole thing. On one side people criticised it, unwilling to accept that it was the truth. What seemed to be hurting them was the fact that it was taken by a western crew and cast. On the other side, people raved about the movie and its actors, and soon it became a favourite among award functions.
I agree with neither of the opinions. It showed pretty much the true face of Indian slums, although, at the end of the day, the movie was about love over money. Not the slum.
Nor is the movie worthy of all this praise. On a scale of ten, I would probably rate it a seven.
There are several other movies made in much better taste and, telling more meaningful tales. Like TZP.
All this, when Slumdog isnt even an Indian movie. If there is anything to rejoice about, its Rahman's awards. Or Resul Pookutty's. Why are we trying to take a stake in Danny Boyle's Or Dev Patel's awards? This is exactly what happened with Kalpana Chawla and Sunita Williams. We have to learn to let go. A country is not indebted to its people. The people are indebted to their country.
At the end of this all, I wonder if India has a colonial hangover.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Madurai Somu or T. M Krishna??
How would you like it if I tld you the shirt you are wearing completely sucks even if I know that its one of your favourites??Or that the bag you are carrying is the worst I've ever seen? Unless you are absolutely used to insensitive about comments like these or you dont care about people who comment, you are sure to feel hurt, even if it is the truth. There are some things you are entitled to, whether its good or bad, nice or not.
Your opinions may not matter to others, it matters to you. So when an acquaintance remarked that she "hated" old-time carnatic singers, I was startled by the strong opinion she had expressed as though she knew them personally. Her reason for this was that they didnt have much of a voice. I didn't want to dispute it; my problem was not with her opinion but the way she had expressed herself. And what irritated me more was her wondering aloud how other people bared to listen to them. Now, it was too much.
Music is divine. Be it Hard Rock or Hindustani classical, music is powerful. And one is entitled to like or dislike a particular genre of music. But this definitely does not mean they have the power to decide what other people listen. I remember my cousin's music teacher asking her not to listen to the new generation of carnatic musicians because they are all very "money-minded". What kind of a teacher is she? To be a good singer, shouldnt one be exposed to both good and bad music? SHouldnt one know how not to sing in addition to knowing how to?
Every genre and period of music has its own speciality. What I'm saying is, listen to what you like, let others also. And its okay to listen to something you dont like sometimes. Don't we do a lot of things we dont "like" to in life?
There is a somewhat similar situation with fashion and dress sense. I really dont understand how one can make a "fashion mistake". Fashion is something that each individual develops over the years, reflecting their personality. I strongly believe that man maketh the clothes. So unless one is dressed in a manner that is offensive or against a code, isn't it rude to stare at them like they are aliens or something? Or to write article in magazines that critise actresses for having repeated the same outfit the same time in a year?
All this makes me wonder how pseudo the world we live in is. ANd its frustrating.
Your opinions may not matter to others, it matters to you. So when an acquaintance remarked that she "hated" old-time carnatic singers, I was startled by the strong opinion she had expressed as though she knew them personally. Her reason for this was that they didnt have much of a voice. I didn't want to dispute it; my problem was not with her opinion but the way she had expressed herself. And what irritated me more was her wondering aloud how other people bared to listen to them. Now, it was too much.
Music is divine. Be it Hard Rock or Hindustani classical, music is powerful. And one is entitled to like or dislike a particular genre of music. But this definitely does not mean they have the power to decide what other people listen. I remember my cousin's music teacher asking her not to listen to the new generation of carnatic musicians because they are all very "money-minded". What kind of a teacher is she? To be a good singer, shouldnt one be exposed to both good and bad music? SHouldnt one know how not to sing in addition to knowing how to?
Every genre and period of music has its own speciality. What I'm saying is, listen to what you like, let others also. And its okay to listen to something you dont like sometimes. Don't we do a lot of things we dont "like" to in life?
There is a somewhat similar situation with fashion and dress sense. I really dont understand how one can make a "fashion mistake". Fashion is something that each individual develops over the years, reflecting their personality. I strongly believe that man maketh the clothes. So unless one is dressed in a manner that is offensive or against a code, isn't it rude to stare at them like they are aliens or something? Or to write article in magazines that critise actresses for having repeated the same outfit the same time in a year?
All this makes me wonder how pseudo the world we live in is. ANd its frustrating.
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