so, here he is, a specimen of modern day fad, a victim of lifestyle, doin that thing he does Or rather doin that thing
everybody does. Dressing up in clothes that do not suit let alone
fit, throwing up an attitude that a five year old would identify
as faked, twisting the tongue, probly the only movable muscle in his body, to try and pronounce the simplest of english words to sound "english",failing of course, Misearably. How long has it been since people have stopped living as themselves n started living to lifestyle or whatever??
It's pretty common these days to see people picking up everyday statements to brighten up their personal profiles. But at what point is it going to occur to them that everything thats there need not be taken home. May be this would be a good one to start with, everybody's pocket pet. A gazillion people own mobile devices that can take pictures apparently, play recorded music, off late record videos and a whole lot of other not so important crap.Now, im not against "capturing cherishable moments", supposedly, but hello!!, once all those clicking and saving happens , in most cases,I see what appears to be a picture, with blips of light here and there, looks more like the negatives of yesteryear. When finally you gather for a nice evening or chill-out session , out comes Mr.i-can-take-pics. Somehow when one dude comes out theres like this mating call and bam!! before you know everybody's out. I don't understand what kinda fun this is supposed to be although I should confess, after a loooooot of resentment, guess what, i joined the club. Because beyond a point people stop paying attention to you because they are busy taking pictures and posing for one at the same time.
next stop. FASHION. Somehow this has to be updated four times a year or probly more for some. The truth is chennai's summers hit 40+ and takes up like 4/5 ths of a year ,Ms.winter however visits jus for the heck of it. well except for last year. But the big names all have spring and autumn collections. for what???. doesn't it sound weird that when you dont have the season what ya gonna do with the closthes for it. If they dont have anything to do with the season in chennai why don't they name their stuff something like "the kathiri collection" for summer wear, or the "pot hole wardrobe" for stain free winter denims??..wont they be remotely appropriate??. Also, Why dont people stick to clothes that actually suit them. Everybodys wearing pants that cling on to the latter half of their butts. For Some it really looks cool. But its hilarious in most cases. Women have lost it too. Its true you wear what you like and to hell with everybody else. But it takes taste and sense to know whats good on you and whats not.After all aren't you selling yourself. You do wanna be an attractive package dont you. Unnecessary flamboyance for coffee shops and movies. Oh My God. Since when did attractive start to mean make-up for walking your dog. Do you realise thats its his "shit" time and you might be stealing his thunder.
And these are just a few obvious things. Its sad people dont appreciate their self anymore. Everything has to be done for everybody's sake. Its actually frowned upon to admit my favourite eatout is a small platform shop in a not so known corner of the city. Somehow your not so "happening" if you not doin the "in thing".Its been long since I stopped caring. But it certainly doesnt feel good with the air of artificiality all around. Phew!!!!!
THIS IS A LIFT FROM CASSIUS'S BLOG.
Please encourage this good blogger by commenting on it. I'm a bit busy with life and work and both at times, so I thought I would rather post something I would have liked to write, sensible, humorous and from a person who is a friend for many lives! 'cASSisus', may the ass in your name be not filtered in a highly spam secure website! A small blessing from ur comsky(comp sci) geeky friend!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Introducing Sam Anderson!
I beg of you to watch the video. Please.
Review: Actor Sam Anderson and Miss No-Name have together produced, easily the most mind boggling video ever in the history of mankind. A trillion thanks to my friend Ifthikar Ali Talha to have found this. Sam Anderson- undoubtedly a look alike of Thomas A. Anderson aka Neo in the 1999 blockbuster The Matrix- has panache and charisma equivalent to that of Keanu Reeves. The song takes you into a trance state. I was making Jim Carrey's, Me Myself & Irene mpd transition face, only this time without me realizing it. Trinity besides him, if not for the leather suit and a police sunglass, matched Carrie-Anne Moss. Carrie-Anne Moss, though stylish wasn't as cute as this dame. She has perfect features(pause at 2:40 and see it yourself). Shankar has allegedly complained to Sony Pictures for not letting him replace Aishwarya Rai with Miss No-Name in the upcoming Rajini flick Robot or rather iyandhira(tamizh for robot). She has done homework with her looks, she even has tan on her biceps!
Lets not forget the music. If only Yanni can understand such profound music. Female vocalists supposedly sings in frequency beyond 20K Hz, which has led to dolphins swimming mad in the pacific ocean. Dance is well, contemporary. It transcends cultures; swing, cha cha, tango and aerobics dominate in duets, while a subtle touch of facial gimmicks and body turns dominates the solo. A new school of dance indeed.
Highlight: Sam's close up shot and a smile (1:11, how apt? its the nelson!) which some critics say divine and babylike while others say surreal. South Indian villages have printed out color copies of this still and use it to drive away evil forces.
Best Moves:
Duet - Tree breaking hand swing with camera man using first of its kind, mirror technique.
Solo - Miss No-Name has done side-moonwalk to perfection (Michael Jackson withdrew his patent for moonwalk on seeing this) , following it up with few hot gestures and ending it with a blushy, cute and a cho-chweet move(2:04 to 2:18).
Best Costume: Red Van Heusen Shirt and a black low hip Gucci Khaki, white Puma running shoes to add icing to the cake.
Sincere thanks to:
DMK party for the costumes, L'oreal for her dry brown cute pony, Malar Hospital Heart Foundation for providing the director an artifical heart through out the shoot (apparantly he left his original heart in his bedroom where he conceptualized this magnum opus) and last but not the least Turakhia to provide 50% off on power lenses and glasses for all the viewers.
Why God why? This not only emphasizes the downside of cheap camcorders, without which they couldn't have created this but also underlines the need for high precision surveillance satellites hovering over Bihar(for its Bhojpuri videos) and Tamil Nadu, to detect such shootings and nuke'em immediately. He has surpassed Jithan Ramesh, JK Ritesh, Agtor Udaya, Pravin Kanth, Vijay's Cousin Vikranth, Jai Akaash, Perarasu, TR with ease and has reached unseen popularity.
P.S I lost my sleep over this video. I became mentally disturbed, esp on seeing the tag "hip hop" for this video on youtube. I thought I would rather spend the night making a blog post out of it. I'm not jobless, trust me!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Midas Touch
I just couldn't resist.
Look at this for a shot. Brett Lee bowled a pacy bouncer into Sachin's body, Sachin sways back to avoid it and in the final moment of the ball passing decided to push it over the slip cordon, off the meat of the bat. This is why Lara is just a wee bit below Sachin in my books, Lara never adapted, was never consistent, nonetheless a genius by his own standards. Sachin is sheer Ghee!nius! Blissful.
P.s: 3rd Test, Perth, Jan 16th 1st day, Sachin was unfortunately given out on 71 which looked too high on the replay. India were 296/6 with Dhoni and Pathan at the crease at stumps.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Bloody Shit
One song I have been hearing a lot these days is this.
Its the background score in the movie Guru, when Madhavan lip locks vidya balan. Just one of those very romantic scenes, which are very rare these days, that makes a lasting impression. Maniratnam is indeed the best in India. This piece of info is neither bloody nor shitty. Just a random thing.
Ok this post is about a exotic rare (read as, not to be found any where in the sacred WWW, my way of showing the middle finger to google) recipe.
Its called Puzhi-Illa curry(sans-tamarind curry), a misnomer, its actually a kozhambu(sans-tamarind soup/gravy). I think it has its origins somewhere from Tirunelveli district, mostly from(guessing) Ambasamudram, a small village in the Tirunelveli district, in the southern part of Tamil Nadu, India. I learned this dish from my mom of-course, but it has my improvisations. You won't get these even in any of the south Indian restaurants. Quite possible to find in the messes of Tirunelveli (Just a guess).
Disclaimer: I'm an amateurish cook, albeit passionate one. The recipe is normally spicy, spicy by Indian standards. The final product that comes out is totally yours and I take neither credit nor liability for the same. I'm just a way to get there(author smiles divinely!).
I like my food to be spicy. To be succinct, I like it when I feel the need to drink more water, but the dish is so good I do not want to drink and fill my stomach. Absolutely horrendous for your bowels and your skin and to your health in general but who cares if the taste is worth it.
Ingredients:
Whole Black pepper(3 to 4 tsp)
Whole cumin seeds (as much as peppers)
Red Chillies (4 to 6 bulb shaped ones / 6 to 8 long red chillies)
Unsweetened shredded coconut (8 tsps may be)
Ghee to saute. (no butter wont do good!)
Some oil to saute.
mustard and cumin for sauting (pinchfull)
onions 1 (large sized)
tomatoes 2 (medium sized)
Green Chillies (3 small)
vegetable of your choice (I would recommend capsicum or brinjal [1 no.])
Turmeric powder for taste.
Garlic paste (1tsp/ 3 garlic slices)
coriander powder for taste (optional)
Moong dal (1 cup)
SALT TO TASTE.
Method:
Boil the moongdal in a pressure cooker with enough water so much so that its a thick syrup when beaten. While that cooks.....
Take a pan, add ghee, let it melt and then add the pepper and cumin seeds(3 to 4 tsps each or may be 5). Follow it with red chillies. When these become sauted, add the shredded coconut. Bend down and smell the pan, you should smell ghee and coconut oil. If you don't, then add the corresponding ingredient until your nose discerns both the flavors distinctly. Do not over saute!. Let it cool when its done.
While its cooling, cut the onions, tomatoes and the elective vegetable. All diced. Slit the green chillies.
Grind the sauted spices in a mixer. Add water like you add a solvent using a burette, slowly and only when needed. Grind it neither too course nor too fine(too fine as in flours). Adding too much water will make it a fine paste and that is not what we want. I like to stop when it resembles a sand and water mix.
Now to saute the cut vegetables. Add mustard to the hot cooking oil, wait for it to splatter, then the cumin seeds. Follow it up with green chillies. Add the garlic paste or the mashed garlic slices. Then saute the onions. Once the onions turn sorta transparent (if its red onion) or golden brown(if its a white onion), add the tomatoes and the elective vegetable. Then add the coriander powder(2 tsps). My mom wont add this. Nor she would add the garlic. Cover the pan and let it cook it simmer. Mix occasionally. Cook until the raw smell of the ingredients goes away.
By this time, the moong dal would have been done. Open it, beat it and transfer it to an cooking bowl. Add the possibly half cooked vegetables to the dal. Add the ground paste. Mix well and let it cook, until the elective vegetable is well cooked. ADD SALT TO TASTE. Add water if you feel its too thick or let it boil if you feel its too watery. Its usually much thicker than the standard Sambhar. It looks a dark brown thick grainy liquid. Edible though.
This serves 3 to 4. Depends on the spice consumption capability of the devourers.
This is best served with boiled rice and a curry/side dish with a tinge of tamarind in it. I add tamarind water to the curry when I make it along with this exotic dish.
I prefer brinjal curry with this. Unbeatable combo! Have fun eating it.
Follow it up with a serving of curd rice or lassi (chaas). You will need it, lemme tell you that.
This is neither bloody nor shitty. But the thing that comes out next day morning sure is both!
Hence my title. Tada.
P.s I make it spicy, you can play around with the green chillies, pepper and red chillies. I want you all to enjoy this and not consult a gastro-blah-blah-ist. So please try it and lemme know how it turned up. If you feel, the title is not so apt, yay, that was my intention, hide it from google! May the most patient food lover searching for the most rarest exotic south Indian dish ever, get to read this. Of-course you are a lil more privileged!
Its the background score in the movie Guru, when Madhavan lip locks vidya balan. Just one of those very romantic scenes, which are very rare these days, that makes a lasting impression. Maniratnam is indeed the best in India. This piece of info is neither bloody nor shitty. Just a random thing.
Ok this post is about a exotic rare (read as, not to be found any where in the sacred WWW, my way of showing the middle finger to google) recipe.
Its called Puzhi-Illa curry(sans-tamarind curry), a misnomer, its actually a kozhambu(sans-tamarind soup/gravy). I think it has its origins somewhere from Tirunelveli district, mostly from(guessing) Ambasamudram, a small village in the Tirunelveli district, in the southern part of Tamil Nadu, India. I learned this dish from my mom of-course, but it has my improvisations. You won't get these even in any of the south Indian restaurants. Quite possible to find in the messes of Tirunelveli (Just a guess).
Disclaimer: I'm an amateurish cook, albeit passionate one. The recipe is normally spicy, spicy by Indian standards. The final product that comes out is totally yours and I take neither credit nor liability for the same. I'm just a way to get there(author smiles divinely!).
I like my food to be spicy. To be succinct, I like it when I feel the need to drink more water, but the dish is so good I do not want to drink and fill my stomach. Absolutely horrendous for your bowels and your skin and to your health in general but who cares if the taste is worth it.
Ingredients:
Whole Black pepper(3 to 4 tsp)
Whole cumin seeds (as much as peppers)
Red Chillies (4 to 6 bulb shaped ones / 6 to 8 long red chillies)
Unsweetened shredded coconut (8 tsps may be)
Ghee to saute. (no butter wont do good!)
Some oil to saute.
mustard and cumin for sauting (pinchfull)
onions 1 (large sized)
tomatoes 2 (medium sized)
Green Chillies (3 small)
vegetable of your choice (I would recommend capsicum or brinjal [1 no.])
Turmeric powder for taste.
Garlic paste (1tsp/ 3 garlic slices)
coriander powder for taste (optional)
Moong dal (1 cup)
SALT TO TASTE.
Method:
Boil the moongdal in a pressure cooker with enough water so much so that its a thick syrup when beaten. While that cooks.....
Take a pan, add ghee, let it melt and then add the pepper and cumin seeds(3 to 4 tsps each or may be 5). Follow it with red chillies. When these become sauted, add the shredded coconut. Bend down and smell the pan, you should smell ghee and coconut oil. If you don't, then add the corresponding ingredient until your nose discerns both the flavors distinctly. Do not over saute!. Let it cool when its done.
While its cooling, cut the onions, tomatoes and the elective vegetable. All diced. Slit the green chillies.
Grind the sauted spices in a mixer. Add water like you add a solvent using a burette, slowly and only when needed. Grind it neither too course nor too fine(too fine as in flours). Adding too much water will make it a fine paste and that is not what we want. I like to stop when it resembles a sand and water mix.
Now to saute the cut vegetables. Add mustard to the hot cooking oil, wait for it to splatter, then the cumin seeds. Follow it up with green chillies. Add the garlic paste or the mashed garlic slices. Then saute the onions. Once the onions turn sorta transparent (if its red onion) or golden brown(if its a white onion), add the tomatoes and the elective vegetable. Then add the coriander powder(2 tsps). My mom wont add this. Nor she would add the garlic. Cover the pan and let it cook it simmer. Mix occasionally. Cook until the raw smell of the ingredients goes away.
By this time, the moong dal would have been done. Open it, beat it and transfer it to an cooking bowl. Add the possibly half cooked vegetables to the dal. Add the ground paste. Mix well and let it cook, until the elective vegetable is well cooked. ADD SALT TO TASTE. Add water if you feel its too thick or let it boil if you feel its too watery. Its usually much thicker than the standard Sambhar. It looks a dark brown thick grainy liquid. Edible though.
This serves 3 to 4. Depends on the spice consumption capability of the devourers.
This is best served with boiled rice and a curry/side dish with a tinge of tamarind in it. I add tamarind water to the curry when I make it along with this exotic dish.
I prefer brinjal curry with this. Unbeatable combo! Have fun eating it.
Follow it up with a serving of curd rice or lassi (chaas). You will need it, lemme tell you that.
This is neither bloody nor shitty. But the thing that comes out next day morning sure is both!
Hence my title. Tada.
P.s I make it spicy, you can play around with the green chillies, pepper and red chillies. I want you all to enjoy this and not consult a gastro-blah-blah-ist. So please try it and lemme know how it turned up. If you feel, the title is not so apt, yay, that was my intention, hide it from google! May the most patient food lover searching for the most rarest exotic south Indian dish ever, get to read this. Of-course you are a lil more privileged!
Friday, January 04, 2008
True Love
What is he? Is that a bat or a chisel that Michelangelo held? Is his mind as strong as that of Gandhiji's? Is it a straight drive or a stroke of a painter wielding his brush making his magnum opus? Is he the greatest sporting hero ever one could see in a life time? Am I the one of the gifted people to have seen him all my life, covering all his career? Does he hold the happiness of millions of hearts world over? Is he a genius ? Is he a legend? Is he human?
YES.
To watch his 38th century live on the internet over a poor connection, swearing comcast, more like a screen saver than a video, I bow in submission to this one guy alone for what he has done for the past 19 years.
The numerous goosebumps, the saliva swallowing moments when the heart skips a beat or 2, the euphoria which makes the eyes a little wet, I owe a lot of great moments of my life to this one man. The banner in SCG said "Commit your crimes now, because even the Lord his watching when Sachin's playing" and another one said "SCG : Sachin Cricket Ground" rather than Sydney Cricket ground.
I have never fallen love with someone, so I never understand the magnitude when I hear poets go gaga about their love on how they have gone 'speechless', 'lost in trance', 'short of words'. If I'm right, that is the exact feeling on my mind.
I'm just waiting for the article from Nirmal Shekar, sports editor for The Hindu, who worships Sachin. I remember his words, when the whole world was unjustly -a cliche, stereotypical homosapien trait of being cynical, Freud would call it mob mentality- asking him to retire, he explains the 'Potterisation' of this little maestro in this poetic article. If only you lowly souls can understand and feel the essence of his words. When I said I was gifted it entails/includes my ability to read Shekar's mind when I read that article. Yeah I'm bragging alright, but who cares, if only you could understand the euphoria that this genius little man brings to my life.
I potterise him. I have fantasized him to play innings he himself wouldn't have fantasized and that's were he transcends the boundary of being a 6 sensed human and becomes a God. The potential to remotely evoke extreme thoughts in the minds of people is what fuels him past that boundary. Every time I finish my excursion in to those fantasy lands and get my foot firmly planted on the ground, my scientific mind spits some rationale in to my imaginative mind, screams that this 5' 6" desi with few extra pounds is 'Yet another hydrocarbon' and not a God(whoever that is), that's when I truely understand his ingenuity. He is just a human. That's why he is a genius. If he were god, I would be booing him for his unfair potential. No, he is just another simple human being. His success is a symbol of love like the Taj mahal, for me it is bigger and beautiful than the 'Mughalian' monument. He is just another guy who loved playing cricket. If you think the poetic, legendary/cult movie Forrest Gump was an exaggeration of emotions and story telling in general, you are wrong. I was wrong. There are people who do things like him. Like the old man who weaved those baskets for 8 years straight, like the old man with a self woven dhoti drove an empire away, empire where the sun never set, like the normal human, who became the 'chosen one' because he loved trinity, like the guy who ran for 3 years and 6 months straight for no reason and who loved Jenny 'unconditionally'. This 'Yet another hydrocarbon' who became the chosen one because he truly loves cricket more than anyone else. Period.
YES.
To watch his 38th century live on the internet over a poor connection, swearing comcast, more like a screen saver than a video, I bow in submission to this one guy alone for what he has done for the past 19 years.
The numerous goosebumps, the saliva swallowing moments when the heart skips a beat or 2, the euphoria which makes the eyes a little wet, I owe a lot of great moments of my life to this one man. The banner in SCG said "Commit your crimes now, because even the Lord his watching when Sachin's playing" and another one said "SCG : Sachin Cricket Ground" rather than Sydney Cricket ground.
I have never fallen love with someone, so I never understand the magnitude when I hear poets go gaga about their love on how they have gone 'speechless', 'lost in trance', 'short of words'. If I'm right, that is the exact feeling on my mind.
I'm just waiting for the article from Nirmal Shekar, sports editor for The Hindu, who worships Sachin. I remember his words, when the whole world was unjustly -a cliche, stereotypical homosapien trait of being cynical, Freud would call it mob mentality- asking him to retire, he explains the 'Potterisation' of this little maestro in this poetic article. If only you lowly souls can understand and feel the essence of his words. When I said I was gifted it entails/includes my ability to read Shekar's mind when I read that article. Yeah I'm bragging alright, but who cares, if only you could understand the euphoria that this genius little man brings to my life.
I potterise him. I have fantasized him to play innings he himself wouldn't have fantasized and that's were he transcends the boundary of being a 6 sensed human and becomes a God. The potential to remotely evoke extreme thoughts in the minds of people is what fuels him past that boundary. Every time I finish my excursion in to those fantasy lands and get my foot firmly planted on the ground, my scientific mind spits some rationale in to my imaginative mind, screams that this 5' 6" desi with few extra pounds is 'Yet another hydrocarbon' and not a God(whoever that is), that's when I truely understand his ingenuity. He is just a human. That's why he is a genius. If he were god, I would be booing him for his unfair potential. No, he is just another simple human being. His success is a symbol of love like the Taj mahal, for me it is bigger and beautiful than the 'Mughalian' monument. He is just another guy who loved playing cricket. If you think the poetic, legendary/cult movie Forrest Gump was an exaggeration of emotions and story telling in general, you are wrong. I was wrong. There are people who do things like him. Like the old man who weaved those baskets for 8 years straight, like the old man with a self woven dhoti drove an empire away, empire where the sun never set, like the normal human, who became the 'chosen one' because he loved trinity, like the guy who ran for 3 years and 6 months straight for no reason and who loved Jenny 'unconditionally'. This 'Yet another hydrocarbon' who became the chosen one because he truly loves cricket more than anyone else. Period.
Friday, December 21, 2007
The Dimple Episode
Lets go back to 1995, Aprilish time. Just when the school starts usually. This was my 5th std. There I was a newbie to school and excited as I was seeing a lot more kids than I was usually used to. My 4th std was in a school where I was the only one in the class. (Read it twice, thrice, yes its true , more on that on a different post). The one before that was in a villagish town called Thiruvallur, scarcely populated and schools were pretty small with 15 at max in a class and if I remember correctly they din't have walls separating the rooms, and to digress, I remember Radha's small pox vaccination on her shoulder and I cried out "miss, Radha has a poochi (insect) on her shoulder miss". So yeah, my excitement on seeing lots of children of my age group, was justified.
I was very shy back then. I will only ask for a leak if its truly a bladder burst situation. And on that particular day, If I had to wait for another minute, I would have died of internal urinage(a la haemorrhage).
I popped up my hand, with my little finger pointing skywards and the 'miss' said, "go quickly". I will have to appreciate her observational skills, urgency was apparantly apparant on my face and the body language. I was literally stamping my feet in tandem, 'march past'ing in my place.
And yeah, I ran like Forrest gump. That was the first or second day, and the first time I'm using that particular toilet. Because of the urgency and the less intuitive, bad interface, I was walking down uncharted territories, namely Girls Toilet. Doors where shut as I was walking by each one of them. All the while stamping legs. 3rd door was ajar. I slightly pushed it open, following which was easily one of the most embarrassing situations in my life. I see my classmate Dimple, pulling her pants up(first few days, we were allowed to wear color dress and she wore a barbie doll jeans that day), and thankfully her panties in place. Then I make the eye contact, she had this 'i-shit-on-my-undies' look, I was having the 'breathe-breathe-push -push-i'm pregnant' look with my hands in my crotch (just in case). I ran out, found the boys toilet, pissed off. Pissed off. The relief briefly overtook the feeling of embarrassment. I walked out, knees trembling, looking forward to a possible 'shortest dismissal(chucked out of school for premature promiscuous behavior)' in the history of Indian schooling. And she was standing, lean and tall(easily taller than me by 3 to 4 inches) and cute and angry all at once.
Dimple: I will complain to class teacher *knodding her head to mean 'u r dead baby'*
me: hey sorry, I thot it was boys toilet.
Dimple: ...
me: I'm new to school.
Dimple: what did you see?
me: just the jetty(panties)
Dimple: Promise? *lends her right hand*
me: promise.
Dimple: *wash your hands moron!!* ok. *smiles*
We walked back in silence to class, and we tacitly agreed not to tell this to anyone. The agreement was intact, until this post.
I was very shy back then. I will only ask for a leak if its truly a bladder burst situation. And on that particular day, If I had to wait for another minute, I would have died of internal urinage(a la haemorrhage).
I popped up my hand, with my little finger pointing skywards and the 'miss' said, "go quickly". I will have to appreciate her observational skills, urgency was apparantly apparant on my face and the body language. I was literally stamping my feet in tandem, 'march past'ing in my place.
And yeah, I ran like Forrest gump. That was the first or second day, and the first time I'm using that particular toilet. Because of the urgency and the less intuitive, bad interface, I was walking down uncharted territories, namely Girls Toilet. Doors where shut as I was walking by each one of them. All the while stamping legs. 3rd door was ajar. I slightly pushed it open, following which was easily one of the most embarrassing situations in my life. I see my classmate Dimple, pulling her pants up(first few days, we were allowed to wear color dress and she wore a barbie doll jeans that day), and thankfully her panties in place. Then I make the eye contact, she had this 'i-shit-on-my-undies' look, I was having the 'breathe-breathe-push -push-i'm pregnant' look with my hands in my crotch (just in case). I ran out, found the boys toilet, pissed off. Pissed off. The relief briefly overtook the feeling of embarrassment. I walked out, knees trembling, looking forward to a possible 'shortest dismissal(chucked out of school for premature promiscuous behavior)' in the history of Indian schooling. And she was standing, lean and tall(easily taller than me by 3 to 4 inches) and cute and angry all at once.
Dimple: I will complain to class teacher *knodding her head to mean 'u r dead baby'*
me: hey sorry, I thot it was boys toilet.
Dimple: ...
me: I'm new to school.
Dimple: what did you see?
me: just the jetty(panties)
Dimple: Promise? *lends her right hand*
me: promise.
Dimple: *wash your hands moron!!* ok. *smiles*
We walked back in silence to class, and we tacitly agreed not to tell this to anyone. The agreement was intact, until this post.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The God of small things
Arundhati Roy - The God of small things
This is like a politician making a true promise to the people. That's how rare is the occasion of me writing a review on a novel. For starters the book is easily the best novel I had read so far. That brings the next question, how many have I read and what are they ? Its countable using fingers and mostly recommended by bibliophiles who recommend them, authentic in person review and not forcible coaxing. This was amn exception though, I picked it up at landmark as I was happily jay walking with my friend during summer 06 in Chennai. You should also know my reading traits. I have read the first 2 chapters at least 15 times, before completing the book. I took 1.5 years to finish the book since it was bought. I like to savor every bit of what's been said. If I ever so feel uncomfortable in while reading, due to the gap between the reading sessions, I start from the beginning. This one unfortunately had many such breaks. Okay, lets get to the book.
The book is about 2 children, Siamese twins, to be precise. Rahel (a she) and Estha (a he) are the characters, who are absolutely adorable in every way, especially their childhood. Arundhati Roy is indeed the GOD of small things. The attention to detail is mind boggling. Not like green door, yellow wall kinda stuff, but in a beautiful way. These are things I like in a book: How succinctly an emotion is presented? The language used, I like it when it defines its own language and keeps it that way through out the book. The book by all means has its own language, quite remarkably different from anything I have read and to say that I have fallen in love with it is an huge understatement. The screenplay is different, in the sense that, in a semi-random way, the story moves back and forth in time. The story telling, which in my view, includes the language, the depiction of emotions, depiction of scenes and the screen play, easily gets it a 6/5.
The story takes place in Ayemenem, a village near Kottayam. Revolves around one incident that changes the lives of the 2 children. The book has its moments, plain embarrassing at places, some would call it gross but I wouldn't. The story as a whole is tragic and to shoot a small surprise it would easily qualify under 'humorous' genre. There are places where its very touching, vicarious emotions (I almost teared up in few places, if not for the masculine shell) and more so frequently funny. Funny as in a wide grin and not as in ROTFL.
The book describes in detail the characters in a way that's very realistic and conceivable. Kochu Maria, Baby Kochamma, Velutha, Ammu, Pillai to name a few. The book touches every aspect of Kerela, from communism to climate to the accented language.
It got the booker prize in 1997, reason behind which becomes obvious at 1/4th of the book. When I reached the end, its a mix of the disappointment of the book being completely read, the nostalgia I felt, the satisfaction of being able to feel and empathize with the characters and their emotions.
If you like this book like I do, then we should make really good friends.
Verdict:
If you read, not to get to the end of the book, but to cherish the reading, you will most probably love it. Arundhati Roy is the real God of small things. If you get to read this book and love it, you will become a Deity.
This is like a politician making a true promise to the people. That's how rare is the occasion of me writing a review on a novel. For starters the book is easily the best novel I had read so far. That brings the next question, how many have I read and what are they ? Its countable using fingers and mostly recommended by bibliophiles who recommend them, authentic in person review and not forcible coaxing. This was amn exception though, I picked it up at landmark as I was happily jay walking with my friend during summer 06 in Chennai. You should also know my reading traits. I have read the first 2 chapters at least 15 times, before completing the book. I took 1.5 years to finish the book since it was bought. I like to savor every bit of what's been said. If I ever so feel uncomfortable in while reading, due to the gap between the reading sessions, I start from the beginning. This one unfortunately had many such breaks. Okay, lets get to the book.
The book is about 2 children, Siamese twins, to be precise. Rahel (a she) and Estha (a he) are the characters, who are absolutely adorable in every way, especially their childhood. Arundhati Roy is indeed the GOD of small things. The attention to detail is mind boggling. Not like green door, yellow wall kinda stuff, but in a beautiful way. These are things I like in a book: How succinctly an emotion is presented? The language used, I like it when it defines its own language and keeps it that way through out the book. The book by all means has its own language, quite remarkably different from anything I have read and to say that I have fallen in love with it is an huge understatement. The screenplay is different, in the sense that, in a semi-random way, the story moves back and forth in time. The story telling, which in my view, includes the language, the depiction of emotions, depiction of scenes and the screen play, easily gets it a 6/5.
The story takes place in Ayemenem, a village near Kottayam. Revolves around one incident that changes the lives of the 2 children. The book has its moments, plain embarrassing at places, some would call it gross but I wouldn't. The story as a whole is tragic and to shoot a small surprise it would easily qualify under 'humorous' genre. There are places where its very touching, vicarious emotions (I almost teared up in few places, if not for the masculine shell) and more so frequently funny. Funny as in a wide grin and not as in ROTFL.
The book describes in detail the characters in a way that's very realistic and conceivable. Kochu Maria, Baby Kochamma, Velutha, Ammu, Pillai to name a few. The book touches every aspect of Kerela, from communism to climate to the accented language.
It got the booker prize in 1997, reason behind which becomes obvious at 1/4th of the book. When I reached the end, its a mix of the disappointment of the book being completely read, the nostalgia I felt, the satisfaction of being able to feel and empathize with the characters and their emotions.
If you like this book like I do, then we should make really good friends.
Verdict:
If you read, not to get to the end of the book, but to cherish the reading, you will most probably love it. Arundhati Roy is the real God of small things. If you get to read this book and love it, you will become a Deity.
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