tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-196544832024-03-07T10:22:25.207-08:00My Space<br>
<b><i>Appearances are deceptive......</i></b>
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<br>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.comBlogger277125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-37375537798309761952021-03-19T18:49:00.004-07:002021-03-19T18:50:56.373-07:00To be grounded<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">When I was a child, I had a pretty active imagination. I read a lot. "Played" with those characters in my head and when I had unstructured play time. And best of all, I was never lonely.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">As I grew up, this ability manifested in different ways. Being the ambivert, I could get lost into the depths of a book, the pages creating a screenplay of sorts in my mind. Professionally, I could think of different solutions to a single problem (key word is think, not execute). But (now, why is there a 'but'), the downside was that I had to struggle to concentrate on one single train of thought so as to actually take any action. Now this, my friends, was a problem. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Why?</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">This didn't happen all the time. Just during those instances where I applied my mind AND there was an urgency to churn out results as fast as possible. My feelings were all over the map with a bit of anxiety, a bit of stress, some exhilaration and last but not the least, nail-biting tension all thrown into the mix, each one trying to gain the upper hand. Day/night, with/without company, working/at home, I could be miles away, my mind spinning in a million directions (yes, it's an exaggeration but you get the idea, don't you) dissecting the problem at hand and reaching for a solution.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Some might say it's an indication of a brilliant mind. (I admit I a.m. ;)) But, too much of anything is never a good thing. And in this case, it resulted in sleepless nights and constant fretting. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">About the future. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Until I joined a class of Organizational Behavior(OB) and my life changed for the better. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">How?</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Let me explain.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Our professor was a great orator and had an engaging personality (which OB professor doesn't?). He always had excellent relevant feedback after grading our papers/speeches. He used to pair us up such that each member of our team complimented the other in terms of strengths and weaknesses. And that's how I met ChessPlayer (not his real name, of course!). </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">ChessPlayer was a brilliant guy. Full of fun and brimming with positive energy. He always used to say life is too short to get worried about. A typical live-in-the-moment kind of guy. And, in contrast, a brilliant chess player. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And he changed the course of my life through these lasting words of wisdom.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Imagine you are on the edge of a cliff. You need to be on solid ground (to not die, that goes without saying). But you need to look around you as well because you have that vantage point! In short, you need to be grounded but you can still look at the horizon and take in the views around you. You can either concentrate on being grounded all the time and worry about not dying. Or you can take in the views around you and walk straight off the cliff. Or you can do both.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">The key is being grounded. And that, my friends, is the not-so-secret sauce of life. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Being grounded enables you to be firm to your principles and yet learn/do a ton of things. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To hold on to your foundation and build more. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To have a start line and still have the ability to connect the dots to the finish line. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To be a tree that can reach into the sky but with strong, firm roots. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To be inflexible and yet flexible. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To be grounded is a continuous process unto itself to be present. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And this, my friends, is something that cannot be taught by anyone except yourself. You have to go through life and teach yourself. Every mistake. Every success. Every painstaking moment of truth. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">So if you are grounded, raise a glass . You have earned every bit of it.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">*cheers</span></p><div><span style="color: #800180; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-4954361252054476482019-08-28T21:36:00.003-07:002019-08-28T21:36:52.652-07:00Son of mine....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes, the hardest effort is not enough. </span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-top: 0.8em;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes, the deepest emotion is not enough.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes, the oldest relationship is not enough. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes, the fiercest love is not enough.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Having a child is hard enough. Having to compete for his affections is even harder. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Especially when you are the “bad” parent. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The strict parent.</span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-top: 0.8em;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent with rules.</span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-top: 0.8em;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent with schedule.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent who does the grunge work like cooking meals, washing clothes for the kid but hardly gets time to read stories because she is so tired.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent who is more intellectual than fun. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent who is more like a caretaker than a Mother. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent who’s constantly shamed into thinking that she’s not good enough of an example.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The parent who simply doesn’t know how to love in order to be loved back.</span></div>
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Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-34866099819779283072012-11-15T16:18:00.002-08:002012-11-15T16:18:54.464-08:00Down the memory lane......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of the travails and tribulations of growing up as <i>homo sapiens</i> is keeping track of the innumerable email ids. I have progressed to different email providers over the years and as a result, keeping track of my older emails is a herculean task. There have been instances where I've forgotten that I had an email on a particular account and I open my email to belatedly realize a ton of messages from friends. From the lack of my replies, I am sure that they must be of the impression that 1. I am too busy to reply (which is not the case since I can spare time for all my good friends), 2. I no longer consider them my friends (I have few friends I consider close and not keeping in touch with them is not an option :-)..)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today was one such occasion when I had a lot of time on my hands (read.... I was prevaricating). I opened my one of my less frequently checked email-accounts and found a ton of junk mail. Nothing new. As I dug further, I came across a few exchanges among a couple of my friends. Precious gold nuggets. As I opened and read each of them, a sense of wonder filled me and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Some serious, some humorous, some lamenting, some cheerful, some even cribbing, but every single email had a strong current of humor and genuineness running through it (wow.... I must have been an electrical engineer<i> hoda janma</i> to think of such a beautiful analogy :P). </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Was this gregarious individual truly me? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As to the people who mailed me, these included close friends from work, from childhood, from blog and even from my bus! These were people who stood witness to my most happiest and depressing moments, and spared some time to reach out to me....to let me know that I was not alone. Now I have their emails - some inspiring words, some memorable photos - as fond memories as the time I was relatively younger, relatively happier and relatively care-free. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, I have all the tools of modern times to help me keep in touch with my friends. A FB account. A smartphone. Skype/Google+ chat. The only difference is that the familiar friends are missing, having been caught up with life, work and family (not necessarily in that order). Do I miss them? Hell yeah! But, there's someone I miss more - <i>moi</i>. </span></div>
Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-31820750899431898652012-07-11T02:24:00.000-07:002012-07-11T02:24:29.645-07:00Eega - The end of imaginative cinema...or not!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Being married is not a bed of roses. Being married to a movie fanatic is definitely NOT a bed of roses. Day in and day out (hey....let's not forget the nights and weekends), one is reminded that televisions exist to push men into a state of oblivion. And woe betide that woman who defies this 'pull of attraction'...towards the television, of course! She is left to stew in her own imagination (read boredom) and is barred from entering some of the innermost portals of her man's mind. So it comes as no surprise that after years of 'silent suffering' (hah!), I decided to 'convert'. A and I would at least have a common topic to talk/discuss/fight about :-)! And thus came the plan to see the movie <a href="http://www.deccanchronicle.com/channels/showbiz/movie-reviews/eega-review-winner-fly-wall-463" target="_blank"><i>Eega</i></a>. FYI, <i>Eega </i>means fly in Telugu. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For all those arty cinema lovers who like subtle romance or hidden meanings, Eega promises you...absolutely nothing. However, for those of us who like action <i>combined with </i>comedy <i>combined with </i>all the makings of a <i>masala </i>movie (oh.... let's not forget the idea of good winning over evil), <i>Eega </i>proves to be a delightful and entertaining movie. The screenplay is pretty tight with very few loose gaps. And yes, the animation is something to write about. One might wonder that there's absolute lack of facial emotions for a fly when there's nothing human to start with, just a tiny face full of millions of eyes? But nope. All through the three hours of the movie, I was enthralled (along with the rest of the crowd and that included kids) by all those little gestures that conveyed, oh so cutely (yes, I repeat cutely) just the right kind of emotion. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">With every fly...er...hero, there has to be a villain (something like for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction?) In comes <i>namma </i>Sudeep as <i>namma </i>villain! And what a villain (and a human one at that)! He is equally convincing as the both sadistic lover intent on bedding the heroine and the loony madman who's convinced that he's being stalked by no less a fly. But then again, I've always loved admired his acting prowess even if it's a bit too intense. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In all, I wasn't sure whether the idea for this movie evolved because of a complete lack of imaginative idea,s or whether because there were loads in an area not yet explored. Or maybe it's an old wine in a new bottle - a new idea which had hitherto been stale ( or even downright stupid) now presented using the latest technology. Whatever the reason<span style="font-size: 12px;">, </span>Suresh Babu (the film's producer) is laughing all the way to the bank. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And did I mention spoiler alert? There... I did! </span></div>
</div>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-31080666237519606642011-10-03T21:12:00.000-07:002011-10-03T21:18:06.550-07:00And thus, I complain!<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" > <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">So....I lost my smartphone. Bummer!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#990099">*grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble *grumble * grumble * grumble *</span></p></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif""><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></span></p>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-60930294468817186522011-04-06T00:29:00.000-07:002011-10-03T21:20:31.720-07:00Made for each other, but how?<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">Anyone who's born a lady would surely agree with me - we need someone to crib to! After a hard day's work, we need a space to de-stress, to relax, and most of the times, this is the form of a verbal barrage of words to someone. A friend, sibling, Mom, last but not the least the spouse!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">Imagine this scene: After a hard day's work, you go back home. No sooner than you unlock the door and cross the threshold, you see your husband sitting in front of the TV, engrossed in a cricket match (inspired by the ICC tournament :P). The sight of your better-half galvanizes you into talking, and mind you, it is not about how happy you are to see him. It is all about your work - bad boss, uncooperative colleagues, hostile work environment, the long hours spent in travel, the general tiredness, so on so forth. Office politics (I can see most of my friends who are working vigorously nodding their heads!). The twist in the story is thus: do you expect hubby dear to switch off the TV and listen to your rant? Or does he continue to watch the TV while you render a laudable imitation of a (much played) record?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">The answer is (the background music rising to a crescendo) - <i>there's no right answer</i>! (No no...the crescendo is not deflating!). It depends....it depends on the relationship and the individuals involved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">I am no expert in the matter of relationships. However, I have had my fair share of friends to whom I have been an excellent agony aunt (or so I believe!). And yes, I get to listen to a lot of complaints. However, I have had my fair share of confides that have been extremely positive. And listening to the latter makes me think - so such men really exist? How much patience would that man have to listen to a whining wife all the time? Doesn't he have any frustrations of his own? Doesn't he feel that he is on the receiving end of a negative tirade all the time?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">Maybe the secret is this - the relationship would have reached a level where the man feels that the positives of wifey outweigh the negatives (and that includes cribbing), and he is ready to believe in her and help her in any way he can. And if that involves being a sounding board, so be it!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">You may have heard of the "Made for each other" sentiment. But couples are not random jigzaw puzzles to perfectly fit each other in style and temperament. Although rare, I have seen a few exemplary couples in real life - their love and respect for each other is so apparent that it makes me wonder - how much time did they take to reach this level of understanding on their journey together...how much time did they take to "fit" together? Is it a function of time at all? Or is it personalities? Or is it compromise?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:#CC0099">Questions, questions, questions! I hope that time can answer them ;-)!</span></p>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-78245818465391650862011-01-27T16:54:00.000-08:002011-10-03T21:21:10.069-07:00When in doldrum....<div><span class="Apple-style-span"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">.......have something nice.....<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">................like this :P!</span><o:p></o:p></p></span><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/TUIUKl1W7tI/AAAAAAAALmI/Xvd0bwf4nIg/s1600/IMG_9197.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/TUIUKl1W7tI/AAAAAAAALmI/Xvd0bwf4nIg/s320/IMG_9197.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567034261570514642" /></a><div><br /></div></div></div>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-22380797328055990732010-12-26T14:16:00.000-08:002011-10-03T21:22:27.202-07:00The key to change<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">There was once a time where I was posting left right and center on this blog. And having 50+ comments (here's the proof). Lately, it has dwindled to one, perhaps two posts every three months! Not good...not good at all...so tells the husband.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">PA, as I refer to him in my blog, reads all my blog-posts including those on my photo-blog. This is surprising since he, being the typical male, dislikes (note: hate is too strong a word) all emotional, sentimental, ...er...all *tal things (you get the idea, right?) and my blog has tons of sentiment flowing out of it. Still, for a person who does not like books, it was surprising to listen to him saying "C, you have given up writing blogs? Why? You write so well. I was reading your blog and all I could think was what happened to this person who wrote so beautifully?" Well PA, I did not run out of topics. Some other priorities overtook this past-time. Plus, as in my previous post, I do not have an overwhelming urge, as I had before, to spew out my thoughts. I have changed (surprise of surprises!). For the better (I hope). And I quite like it!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">So we come back to where I started - the blog. It's my baby, something I found solace in when I was mad at the rest of the world (well, still am but no so much :-)..). Sine the key to change (especially those pleasant ones) is to accept and move on, I suppose I should devote some time to blogging as well. Things that are in the process of changing my mind - PA, 24 comments awaiting my moderation when I logged in yesterday, friends urging me to blog again. As a result, notice the brand new template....and the post? Still more in the works.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:#CC0099">Lately, I have been toying with the idea of making this blog password-protected. What are your thoughts? (Spew) out with it.......</span><o:p></o:p></p>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-41102324310619747422010-05-03T22:05:00.000-07:002010-12-26T01:11:35.535-08:00People....thou are God<span style="color:rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">I know I know! I've been away too long. And that's because, I found an easier way to express - well... I speak out :-)! </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">Jokes apart, the following is a topic that's been in my mind for quite some time, and (wonder of wonders), a pet peeve, something which PA has been nagging all along since....hmmm....hmmm...for almost two years now! Auuunnnnd the topic is - I don't hang out with people. I don't call up people. I don't interact with people. Given a book (and a laptop with Internet), I prefer to be by myself. <span style="font-style: italic;">Why?</span> Given this soul-searching nature of the question, I had to dug into my depths of my memory to come up with a suitable explanation. I was such friendly soul in the past. But now, </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">I've become such a notoriously selective person, so much that I prefer being alone rather than being with people who are a pain to be with.</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> It's not that I don't hang out with friends.</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> It's just that....</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> I like being alone. But then again, I like being alone. To the point of secluding myself.</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> So..... what made me such an introvert? PA, this post is for you (and all those people who've foolishly ventured out to pop this question to me), and the whole world is out to witness my explanation....and my wrath. </span><br /><br /><ul><li><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Expl 1:</span> I was nerd. A geek. During my college days, my geekiness (and gawkiness) was predominant in the way I dressed (ack....was it me?), spoke, and I guess, every aspect of my character. And I only came to know of this 'little thing' when the boyfriend of my <a href="http://chitraaz.blogspot.com/2005/12/universal-change.html">friend</a> (who's no longer a friend) revealed this truly revealing thought- "She is such a <span style="font-style: italic;">specimen</span>." <span style="font-style: italic;">Ahem</span>....ladies and gentlemen (I hope), that '<span style="font-style: italic;">she</span>' is none other than <span style="font-style: italic;">yours truly</span> and imagine the distress she felt when she was addressed a specimen! (Not good for her image at all!). And to think that I actually cried over it! All names under the sun....to me!</span></li></ul><br /><ul><li><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Expl 2:</span> </span>Thanks to my.... err...'image', I was shunned by most of my collegians. Hence, the uppermost feeling during those days was a craving for acceptance. By peers. By friends. But most were too smart for their age: here I was, the loner who dressed badly. Imagine what would happen to your image if you hang out with me, this....this geeky specimen (hah!). The implications were too scary to imagine....... I guess. Between a geek and your friends, whom would you choose? Geek lost round 2 , and was condemned to remain alone for the rest of her term.</span></li></ul><br /><ul><li><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Expl 3:</span> </span>Public image is a very powerful thing. And more than the individual, this image is more or less fueled by the society, by people talking behind your back. And the more 'powerful' and 'influential' they are, the more you are screwed! Even if I was a friendly albeit badly dressed, geeky soul, people were simply not ready to 'invest' their time, energy and emotion in me because......I was simply not worth it. Most of the times, I was excluded out of that 'elite' group of people invited </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">to a party, get-together, a trek</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> simply because I wasn't accepted by the rule-makers of that group. Or somebody had an axe to grind with me. And even though </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was apparently a your friendly neighborhood girl to hang out with alone, the helpful classmate who lends her notes to you, the kind girl who listens to your cribs about life (and boys), I .....was not 'classy' enough to be invited to your party.</span></li></ul><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">I learnt one of the most important lessons in my life - it's easier to simply venture out and identify your friends rather than penetrate a judgmental clique. Nobody has the guts to speak up for you since they themselves want to be accepted (this is the best explanation I could come up with). If there's something called hope, you'll find people who accept you, and even if that number's pretty small compared to the phenomenal number of the 'accepted' group, you'll be happy being yourself with the former.<br /><br />Past is history. But sometimes, history has a weird way of repeating itself. And I am very averse to be caught in that loop. I give too much credit....to myself! </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am smart. Talented. I write well. I can express my thoughts fluently. I dress well. I look...and feel good. I am on my way to pursue my career ambitions. I am loved and accepted by all those who matter most in my life. The prejudiced rest</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;"> are simply not worth my time.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;">And this, my friends, remains the fundamental truth of my life.<br /></span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-57108155980714070092010-01-15T14:06:00.000-08:002010-01-22T15:50:56.265-08:00Dene waala jab bhi deta.....<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >...<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoxSwTPneJY">poora chappaD phaaD ke deta</a>......or so goes the song! 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mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--><s><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">However, <i>blog pe sirf</i> confirmed news</span></s><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">. Please cheer your one and only (I hope) beloved blogger publishing two of her blog-entries :D ! (Drum-rolls and trumpets please... !)</span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >TOI Bangalore Mirror published one of my blog entries 'Love and Marriage' in today's issue (15/01/2010). Do check it out on their e-paper <a href="http://lite.epaper.timesofindia.com/getpage.aspx?edlabel=BGMIR&pubLabel=MM&pageid=11&mydateHid=15-01-2010">here</a>. For the blog version, you could simply scroll down or click <a href="http://chitraaz.blogspot.com/2009/09/love-and-marriage.html">here</a>. Or if you love the crinkle of a freshly folded newspaper (with hot steaming tea), go and buy your own copy! </span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Aaaaah..... grrrrreeeat start to a New Year on <span style="font-style: italic;">Shankranthi </span>festival! Looking forward to inching higher :-)! </span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >HYN everybody!
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<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Addendum</span>: And here's the confirmed news: another blog-post published <a href="http://lite.epaper.timesofindia.com/getpage.aspx?pageid=12&pagesize=&edid=&edlabel=BGMIR&mydateHid=21-01-2010&pubname=&edname=&publabel=MM">here</a> but, alas, with the <a href="http://nychthemeron.blogspot.com/">wrong blog address</a> for credit. (No offense <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635222842257175541">Shruthi</a> :-)...)! I've mailed them to rectify the mistake. So <span style="font-style: italic;">dekhenge</span>.......
<br /></span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-54262105529956232502009-12-09T23:34:00.000-08:002009-12-09T23:52:52.105-08:00Veg for thought<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I have been a vegetarian for as long as I can remember and the main cause being..... you guessed it, my parents were vegetarians! When I started working (and thus came in contact with the professional world), I discovered a very startling fact – vegetarianism was no longer a religion; from something that you HAD to be followed, it had boiled down to something that COULD be followed…..simply put, a choice. For most of my veg (er.... I use this term literally, of course, and NOT figuratively!) colleagues, surreptitiously eating non-veg, away from the omniscient eyes of their elders became a way of life. And going abroad expanded the options for the non-veg fare while at the same time reducing the risk of ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">exposure</span>’.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >When I was leaving for UK, the uppermost concern for my extended family (I call them extended because after all, they too have played a major part in my upbringing) was that of food, and specifically vegetarian food, or the lack of it. "You are going all the way to some other country. What would you do for <span style="font-style: italic;">ooTatinDi</span>?" This was the most common question thrown at me. Till date, I cannot recall the answer I gave. All I can remember is being in a tearing hurry to pack all my stuff and then fretting about exceeding the weight limit!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Scotland, UK had a pleasant surprise in store - the place had a few grocery stores in some nooks and corners that sold Indian commodities. Step into that store and it was almost like our <span style="font-style: italic;">pakkada mane</span> </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >grocery store except for the cleanliness part.</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" > So you see, the only reason I lost weight abroad was due to stress and not due to lack of food - I still remember (and can almost taste) those <span style="font-style: italic;">booootiful </span>deep-fried veggie burgers!<span style="font-style: italic;"> Leep-smacking stuff !</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Even though CN, one of my two room-mates was a non-vegetarian, she was so mindful of us (vegetarians) that she did not cook any non-veg stuff at home. Instead, we ended up going to restaurants which served both veg and non-veg food. Back in India, I would have gone to a restaurant which served both veg and non-veg food only because of two reasons: one, I did not find a decent veg restaurant and two, there was some yummy veg specialty which was unique to that restaurant. I had faint trepidations because I had endured some unpleasant situations on the likes of the following.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />Imagine you, along with your non-veg friends, are at a popular fast-food joint with mouth-watering burgers on the menu. Imagine that in spite of you ordering a meatless burger, you discover the presence of meat. And imagine if the waiter just whisks off the meat patty and plops down the same burger with the cheery words, “There you go, no meat now.” Would that be acceptable to you?</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Here’s another situation: Imagine you go to a multi-cuisine place and order a soup after repeatedly verifying with the lady that it’s vegetarian. Imagine your dismay when you discover pieces of fish in the soup. On enquiry, the lady innocently replies, “But fish is vegetarian, no?”</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Imagine one of your friends casually dips a ladle used for spooning a non-vegetarian dish into the one and only vegetarian dish ordered for yours truly. After this, would you consider helping yourself to some more of that veg dish?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />One of the fears passed down to me from the upper echelons (aka previous generation) was the lack of hygiene in restaurants which served both veg and non-veg food, “What if they used the same utensils for cooking both varieties of food?” Later on, this among a host of other passed-down fears was conveniently side-lined with the belief that the management respected vegetarians sufficiently to use separate cooking gear, and not mix them up. However, this belief was put to test with the <a href="http://www.rediff.com/news/2001/may/04us1.htm">McDonald’s suit</a>. On a personal note, one of my friends who was working part-time at a burger joint to support her education revealed that the same frying pan/grill was used to cook both veg and non-veg stuff! So where does this leave vegetarians? At ‘sea’, strictly sticking to home-made food.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >There are times I feel that the whole idea of vegetarianism is skewed with people mutating the meaning to their advantage (and profits!). “Bread contains enzymes that are non-veg.” “What about gelatin in ice-cream?” The more one examines things under the microscope, the more confused one would be. “If chicken comes from egg, there’s no way that egg is vegetarian” says one of my friends who’s been trying to prove that I am, thus, an non vegetarian and ‘licensed’ to eat other non-veg food. It has to be revealed that she’s been trying to coerce me into becoming a non-vegetarian for almost an year now :-). Thankfully, for people like me, the“I-don’t-eat-eggs-directly-but-then-eat-cakes-with-eggs-in-them” variety, <a href="http://www.everydayhealth.com/diet-nutrition/types-of-vegetarians.aspx">this article</a> comes as a welcome relief :-)!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Vegetarianism for me remains a practice, and I am at an age where I can safely vouch for my practices. I like to experiment more with new habits rather than steady practices which have benefited me till date. My friends’ circle consists of mature people who not only respect me but also my choice of vegetarianism, and go out of their way to make me feel comfortable amidst them (aaah….bless these guys!). Belonging to the minority group is definitely a minus point with me being on the tenterhooks all the time in any restaurant that serves both veg and non veg food, or with blokes who don't understand where I from. Yet,I feel confident to proclaim that I am a vegetarian. Are you ;-)?</span><br /></span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-45284232333789459122009-11-30T13:45:00.000-08:002009-11-30T15:03:12.018-08:00TaDaaaaaaaan......<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">The idea of a photoblog had been in my head for a very long time. Just the effort required to pen it on paper....er.....publish it on web was required. After a few false-starts, I plunged into the details aaaauuunnnnndddddd.... here's the final result. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">Finally...finally...finally launching my photoblog at <a href="http://chitraazclicks.blogspot.com/">http://chitraazclicks.blogspot.com</a> :-D ! <span style="font-style: italic;">Yiiipppeeeeee yippeeeee and yipppeeeee</span> (I simply cannot stop grinning)! As usual (ahem!), comments and suggestions are very welcome.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">After all the effort I put into customizing my photos, wordpress turned out to be a damp squib - I found the photo quality to be faded and washed-out. So came back to blogger, and a plethora of extensive research, photoshopping and html tweaks later, and I was <span style="font-style: italic;">yuxtremely</span> satisfied with the final result (do I sound modest here? :P). </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />I was very intent on launching my photoblog this year. In spite of a few hiccups (a prolonged seige by the flu being the latest), this year has been a very fruitful year so far.Still awaiting the results of something </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">towards </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">which I've been working from a very long time. Keeping my fingers crossed and hoping for the best :-)! </span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-35387749961672962162009-10-03T23:31:00.000-07:002009-10-05T21:17:38.951-07:00When at a loss of words......<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Thanks NS your sweet e-mail. The (ir)responsible introvert I've been (and still am), I am still not very sure how I'm supposed to feel when thanks is conveyed in a manner so effusive as yours. Hmmmmmmmm....er......uh........ duh.......it takes some time to get used to the idea, I guess :-)! Since I'm a woman of few words, all I can do is convey a <span style="font-style: italic;">vaaary </span>public thanks :-)!</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-80265785574095569492009-09-10T12:23:00.001-07:002009-09-10T12:23:16.660-07:00Love and Marriage<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_Actually">Love actually</a> revolves around various couples and the ways they perceive and finally find love…..or something remotely similar. When I sat down to watch this movie, I was not prepared for the intricacy and subtlety of the plot, and of course, the various perceptions of love. At the end, I could have relegated it to another feel-good movie were it not for certain strains of reality and maturity depicted in the movie.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ve known love to be a very elusive quality, something very similar to luck. If one needs it, and even wishes for it hard, there’s certainly no genie appearing from the lamp to grant it to you on a platter. At the same time, all I know is if one knows where to find it, one can hold on to it….. forever. And oh, the channels to discover love, so many and varied. Through people, animals, work, a favourite pastime, eating (my personal fav)….. you can add on to the list.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Our very idea of love and romance is so much influenced by movies and books (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mills_&_Boon">Mills and Boon</a> anyone?). Love at first sight, the thudding of heart, the shortage breath, and oh….how can I forget the song in the heart (not to mention the song and dance routine around the trees :D)! Makes one go <span style="font-style: italic;">sighhhhhhhhhhhhhh</span>…. doesn’t they? But(there's always a 'but' at the end of the rainbow)....is love like this?</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ve met people who’ve claimed to be influenced by all these factors and….and sometimes more :-). Dreamy eyes, lost expressions, countless hours on phone (make that mobile)…. yesssirraaah…. me see-eth all. It’s at this point where the movie ends with “They happily lived ever after” idea. And it’s at this stage that their hunky-dory world is bombarded with the harsh realities of the world around them. What happens later? Aaaah well…. no-one’s shown it…… yet.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ve been asked, discreetly of course, by most people - how is it that you marry a person whom you’ve never known more than a couple of months? And I counter-question – how is it that people get divorced in spite of knowing each other for more than a couple of months, and sometimes years together? Ultimately, marriage is a gamble – you enter this legal contract with the intention of making it work, and not knowing that it does have another door of escape called the dreaded D. And what does love have to do with marriage? Well….. if one can learn what love is through commitment, marriage plays a crucial part. For all those shaking your heads knowingly, you know what I’m talking about.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Sharing every thought under the sun , learning things together, exploring, fighting and making up, getting hurt, laughing loud at silly jokes, enjoying the simple pleasures of life,complementing each other, creating and nurturing the miracle of life, and falling in love all over again.....perhaps this is a form of commitment.....perhaps it's here to stay.....perhaps it's called marriage. The <a href="http://chitraaz.blogspot.com/2006/03/turnaround.html">turnaround</a> is complete.</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-59379045180626002972009-09-04T13:04:00.000-07:002009-09-05T21:25:18.024-07:00All about moi :-)<a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200303/rauch">This</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" > explains it all :-)!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Courtesy: </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://rkblogs.net/">RK</a>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-27621470514766383272009-08-26T16:35:00.001-07:002009-08-27T14:52:14.218-07:00This and that<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >My niece, S, is one precocious little two-year old. She, along with her father (note the order) had <span style="font-style: italic;">graced </span>to have dinner with us. When it was time to say good-bye, she bugged her father to hoist her up. Seeing this, we were unable to resist making fun of her. “<span style="font-style: italic;">Abba </span>S, you are a big girl now. Why can’t you walk by yourself?” Smart kid instantly retorted, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Chappali illa</span>.” Delicate darling that she was, she did not want to walk without her <span style="font-style: italic;">chappals </span>:-)! Needless to say, we were dumbfounded by this response from someone so young!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> **********************************888888888888888888888*****</span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I love water bodies. I love clicking water-bodies. I love frolicking in water-bodies. What I don’t love is drowning in them!(Well......for that matter, who does?) PA’s been trying to teach me to swim. For every step (or rather lap) of progress, I hop/swim back two thanks to the fear of drowning. And the pool’s supposed to be only four feet. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sheeeesh</span>! And <span style="font-style: italic;">moi's</span> height being a little more than five feet is hardly any consolation. <span style="font-style: italic;">Double sheeeesssh</span>! Still, the optimist in me tries to make the best of the situation by..... hopping up and down in water! The feeling of being buoyant comes into effect even if the act does make me look like a hoppitty bunny!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">**********************************888888888888888888888*****</span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >What’s it with crowd dynamics? Everything I suppose. I’ve often observed that most people follow the lead of majority without even the benefit of doubt. There could be two reasons for that - first, one couldn't care less about the topic in question, second, it's easier to adopt or follow a popular opinion rather than pondering in detail about that topic. But what if the opinion is about a person or the character of a person? I find it very interesting how a person's character is ripped to shreds or conversely glorified out of proportion based simply on crowd dynamics. If a majority of people think that a person's up to no good, it's very likely that a newcomer to this group would simply go along with the flow provided he/she does not have any stakes (read as involvement) involved. Wham-bham and there goes everything down the drain. So what if the crowd is mistaken? It's after all only a person's character, right? As long as you don't have to do anything with that person, lage raho......</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">**********************************888888888888888888888*****</span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >There's so much discussion going about the topic of effective communication. Most educational institutions stress upon the right usage of words and their meaning, grammar of sentences, and how effectively one can communicate using the written language. Ironically, I find that people who have absolutely no grasp of the grammatical intonations of English can still manage to communicate effectively not only through calls but by mails as well. How? By simplicity rather than any fanciful bombastic words. How much more direct does "I would need this done by tomorrow morning by 11:00 a.m." sound than "It would be great if you could get this done sometime by tomorrow". Precise, concise and yes, effective. So what if the grammar's a wee bit flawed?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">**********************************888888888888888888888*****</span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I am not a 'sweet(s)' person [:P]. I like certain sweets but I can have them in very limited quantities. Two and I would be done, my throat muscles simply refusing to welcome the third. Still, I do find this very appetizing. Don't you? <span style="font-style: italic;">Sssssslllllluuuuurrrp</span>! Stimulate your taste-buds :D!</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/Spb9B3E1uaI/AAAAAAAALEU/rMrPKg3O8Zg/s1600-h/IMG_1024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/Spb9B3E1uaI/AAAAAAAALEU/rMrPKg3O8Zg/s400/IMG_1024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374761413719210402" border="0" /></a>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-45197616752944760072009-06-09T18:28:00.000-07:002009-06-09T18:36:48.419-07:00A 'timely' gift<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >As a youngster, the only days I paid some attention to was my friends’ birthdays, and even though I was pretty hopeless in remembering the exact dates, I never passed up the opportunity of presenting them with a greeting card and a hand-made one at that! Most of the ideas I made use of were from store-bought cards, presented to me by my friends. Some had glittery designs, some vibrant colors, while others had a colorful appendage which spread out when one opened the card.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Call me old-fashioned, but however imperfect it may be, there’s something heart-warming about a hand-made gift. A greeting card, a note, a cake, a cassette ooops….now it’s a CD containing favourite songs, a hand-painted garment, beaded bracelets…..you name it! Each occasion was marked with a sense of surprise and wonder; surprise because someone remembered that special day, and wonder because the person attempted to give me something which he/she made with some effort, keeping my likes and dislikes in mind, and with the obvious intention to please. Makes one feel special and cherished indeed :-)!</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >With the passage and lack of time, I succumbed to the pressure and thus, store-bought gifts preceded the hand-made ones. Even with that, I used to scout stores to find something suitable. And I would undertake this ‘expedition’ only when I was interested enough. Else I would ditch going to any b’day party altogether – feigning you-are-my-bestest-friend wasn’t my forte. This was on the ‘giving’ side. On the receiving side, I received some thoughtful gifts. Some included books (my favorite gift of all :-)), while others included personal knick-knacks. On one occasion, one of my friends had bought a lunch-<span style="font-style: italic;">dabba </span>filled with lip-smacking North-Indian snacks. What more could I have wanted! That was one memorable b’day (<span style="font-style: italic;">burp</span>!).</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Most of my friends now have married, had kids, and are generally busy with their careers and lives. Though I miss them a lot, I am in touch with them through mails and sometimes calls. We hardly live in the same city, let alone same country to visit and exchange gifts on occasions of b’day or anniversaries. However, these small reminders are all the wishes/gifts I can afford to have. And it cheers me up immensely that they (unlike me) can remember :-).</span><br /><br /></span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-30114931182619031702009-03-27T22:42:00.000-07:002009-03-28T00:08:37.682-07:00First things first.....<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I had a pretty sheltered upbringing until I joined work. And even then, it was routine life with home, work and weekends :P. Until Edinburgh happened. My first on-site trip was to this city in Scotland, UK. And first things are hard to forget....similar to first love :-)!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I had worked hard for this trip, and was mentally prepared to be away from my family for a couple of months. But nothing could have prepared me for the desolation and self-doubt that plagued me initially. Here I was, all alone, in this foreign land, with no friends (no followers either :-)...), and no one to guide me. And the introvert that I was, I was a bit slow in getting along with my room-mates, LH and BN (the latter replaced later by CN). Since the girls knew each other for a relatively longer period, it was but natural that they bonded together very well. And I, being the fifth wheel (and an older one at that) felt out of sorts, disoriented, home-sick and work-pressurized.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The first week in Edinburgh was a revelation of sorts - never had I encountered a city with a weather as variable as this! As soon as I stepped off the plane, I was hit by an icy blast of cold wind; it was February. My thick jacket was no match for the icy droughts of wind and soon I was shivering lightly. It was only later that one of my (UK) colleagues advised me keep my ears and neck warm - that was the mantra to ward of cold. Pretty soon, thermals, sweater, jacket, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >topi</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and a muffler became part of my daily ensemble to anywhere outside our apartment. NB promptly let me know that I looked like a watchman with all that padding!</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The intital feeling was homesickness was soon replaced by a sense of adventure and enthusiasm as I started discovering the city. Because of its historic significance, Edinburgh had quite a few tourist attractions. But first, I familiarized myself with the surroundings of my apartment - each street initially looked the same to me. But then again, it was fun getting lost and discovering new routes (as long as I was not hungry!). I roamed the streets, discovering and re-discovering, and reveled in the feeling of independence that any earning, independent woman develops when she's on her own.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It was in Edinburgh that I discovered quite a few things about myself - my through inability to stand the cold weather, my inclination towards bright clothes (sweaters, tops, mufflers, you name it!), my (very fierce) sense of independence, my ability to cook (ahem.....strictly based on the opinion of my room-mates), the travel freak within me, my passion for photography, my sense of adventure, my likes, my dislikes, my social skills (or the lack of it), my learning curve, my professionalism, and my ability to anticipate. I discovered that I was not shy (as I had originally assumed), just an introvert, very much liking to be by myself rather than any forced company. And the latter trait remains pretty much the same till date :-)!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >This trip holds a very special place in my heart because it was a major turning point in my life.....one which changed the very outlook of the way I envisaged my future. It opened a door into a world which I had never imagined to be a part of. Thanks to the experience, I developed a sense of direction and a hunch to explore the same. I came in contact with some wonderful people, who influenced me in more than one ways, and some not so wonderful ones, whom I am better off without :-)! It was an eye-opener in more than one way, both about life and people. I learnt to make some tough decisions and not to regret them. After all, better way could you discover other than traveling and unraveling the maze ;-) ?</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/Sc3HeRVedII/AAAAAAAAKt8/ym6WUOg2GPA/s1600-h/And+presenting+Castle+Howard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/Sc3HeRVedII/AAAAAAAAKt8/ym6WUOg2GPA/s400/And+presenting+Castle+Howard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318126057857905794" border="0" /></a>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-445720456645808742009-03-10T21:46:00.000-07:002009-03-10T23:01:31.767-07:00"To Sir With love"<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >When I joined my first job, I still had the school-girlish tendency to expect guidance and spoon-feeding. Very quickly, I was ‘taught’ to expect otherwise. I learnt the hard way to anticipate and keep myself abreast of most things. One had to ask in order to learn. Very rarely did people ‘teach’. Still, a few odd things impressed me – words like “You respect my time and I’ll respect yours” by an instructor to a couple of people late for her class, “It’s those small things which can topple your effort. So make sure you tie up those itsy-bitsy loose ends first before focusing on the bigger issues,” by my very sage instructor who trained me during my first job, “A lazy employee is like a family black sheep” by a former project manager.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It’s startling how I remember most the things taught during my school times. Basic concepts of Geometry and Algebra (no Arithmetic though :-(....), how to write essays, how to make primary, secondary and tertiary colours, photosynthesis, plant and animal cells, staple food of North and South India, so on and so forth. However, the memory of my PU and Engineering days are loaded with blanks. And the conclusion I could draw was – either I was very studious during my school-days or the teachers were very diligent in their job. Considering the fact that I was an above average student (ahem-ahem!), the latter conclusion makes more sense.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />Most of school life was interspersed with teachers who make the most boring subjects interesting. I still remember my primary school Science teacher who used to conduct experiments in the class in order to demonstrate a few aspects such as gravity, suction, capillary motion etc. I can still recall the excitement with which we used to await his class, and the effortless pin-drop silence that ensued during his experiments. And he did not even have to raise his voice for that :-)! </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />Then again, there were teachers who were so encouraging (and understanding) about one’s mistakes (at homework or otherwise), that one could only be compelled to learn from the mistakes and perform better. My English teacher was one such gem of a person who never reprimanded a student in rough language, and treated us as responsible kids rather than ‘simply students who had to be taught a lesson”. And so was my Sanskrit teacher who patiently taught us this completely new language of which we had no clue at all. This explains why I still remember the (dreaded) shabdas in Sanskrit :P!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />As I progressed to the upper echelons of education, I encountered teachers who taught only for the sake of teaching, who viewed us merely as ‘undisciplined brutes’ and treated us as such, and who cut us to the core in public by their caustic remarks. I can only ponder about my lack of interest in studies – was I so unmotivated by my teachers so as not to understand the subjects, or was it plain disinterest, or were the subjects themselves too ‘heavy’ to be completely understood? My safest bet is that it’s a combination of all three.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />It's been quite some time since I've posted something worthwhile. My apologies to my readers :-)! I've been preoccupied by a variety of tasks, incongruously insignificant, yet occupying quality time and adding up to a huge chunk in my day-to-day life. And every reflection-at-the-end-of-the-day leaves me wondering “What on the earth did I do today?” only to be reminded of the sage words of my instructor – small tasks are indeed preoccupying! Truer words were never remembered this often :-)! </span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-2010410495603461232009-02-22T20:00:00.000-08:002009-02-22T21:00:54.985-08:00And the Oscars go to......<a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.oscar.com/nominees/?pn=nominees">A. R. Rahman</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" > for the best song and music for Slumdog Millionaire :-)! </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >p.s: For more information, google 'Rahman' and 'Oscar' :P.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a.p.s: <a href="http://www.oscar.com/nominees/?pn=film&film=Slumdog%20Millionaire%20Film">Slumdog Millionaire walks away all 'O's except the that for Sound Editing ('The Dark Knight' bagged it)</a>.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a.p.s: If this cannot break my 'silence', nothing will :D</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-67633107508232078602009-01-10T17:28:00.000-08:002009-01-10T19:20:43.865-08:00Stuck for posterity<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I recently (read as several months ago) caught up with a classmate of mine in school, having literally bumped into her on a shopping spree. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She shouted over the din “You look positively radiant! Huge change since we last met.” </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Out of sheer habit, I couldn’t help processing her compliment. Here I was laden with two big cloth shopping bags (er…not too much of a plastic fan), my purse, umbrella and perspiring enough to solve Bangalore’s water problem. And I looked radiant! <span style="font-style: italic;">Good for me :-)</span>! The next part of the statement mentally teleported me to those times when I was an (un)certified geek (and perhaps still am)! Aaaaarrrrggggh !! Why can’t women pay a <span style="font-style: italic;">straight </span>compliment??? </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It’s strange how people get stuck on one particular image of yours. And not all are <span style="font-style: italic;">positive</span>……and <span style="font-style: italic;">real</span>. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >A classmate of mine had <span style="font-style: italic;">THE looks</span>. I felt that she was smart, intelligent, articulate and what not. I was a huge admirer hers. When I ran into her at a musical show, she came across as a very selfish person. Charming but look-I-simply-don't-have-time-for-conversation-with-lowly-types-like-you type. Was it because she was an epitome of what I wanted to be? What was I thinking back then? Hmmmm......time really does provide you some much-needed perspective. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >On a personal front, here’s one: I used to run into a girl who traveled on the same bus as mine. She never used to talk to anyone and was generally unresponsive to anything. All she did was stare outside the window (if seated near one), and not make eye-contact with anyone. Several years later, through a very curious twist, I came to know that she had a stutter and thus, a huge confidence issue. If I had stuck to that image of that cold forbidding girl, I would have lost a good friend. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >When I am in my blue moods, I remember only the negatives associated with people. However, when I am positive enough (which is more these days :D), I am benevolent enough to ignore a person’s bitchiness, or not dwell upon it. But to ignore downright a person’s bad behaviour/ pointed insults/ indirect barbs, and to repeatedly forgive anyone……well…..simply put, it takes a great deal of effort. And why would I do that unless the person’s close enough? I’d rather keep a safe and comfortable distance. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Till date, I’ve been in touch with people for their honesty, intelligence and knowledge. And the fact that they tolerate me is an added bonus :-D. The thought of interacting with any one because they could be used in the future…..like………like shares is something I’ve observed in most people, but (thankfully?) not emulated. There have been times when I feel like I should be more street-smart, more like all those (clever?) people around me, do some ‘useful networking’, and lead a generally fruitful life. Right now it’s just a wish borne out of frustration when I allow people to walk all over me! </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Perhaps in another ten years or so, or when I get really jaded, whichever happens sooner, I shall change…..for the better…......or worse ;-)! Till then, you are stuck with me ;-)! </span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-5739666397052514122008-11-20T18:05:00.000-08:002008-11-20T18:07:54.733-08:00I looouuuurrvveee......<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">.........<a href="http://googlesystem.blogspot.com/2008/11/gmail-themes.html">Gmail Themes</a>! Mine's Graffiti! What's yours?</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-54934127332358354682008-11-10T16:29:00.000-08:002008-11-11T13:20:12.292-08:00What a complex web we weave<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ve always wondered what bonds the complicated creatures of mankind namely the women. Is it talking for hours together (especially over the phone), gossiping, giggling over secrets, hoo-haaing over something trivial, ‘discussing’ recipes so on and so forth? Well…... I guess it’s all because I do not seem to possess any of those ‘fine’ qualities. And that alone brands me as an ‘outcast’ :-).</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ve always been attracted towards intelligence….of any form. I like people who can hold a honest (a slowly dying trait) conversation about any subject under the sun without any prejudice. My girl-friends, even the blogs I follow (on Google Reader :-)...), in one way or the other, reflect the same. True, with time, we have bonded closely on a personal level. However, at the first instance, there’s this spark of honesty and intelligence which has been surefire turn-ons for me :-).</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >There’s RS whose blogs I read regularly. They are such a fine mix of level-headedness and intelligence that I was completely hooked (a rare feat I assure you). I don’t remember exactly how our correspondence started but it did….and with a bang! We even met up (our offices being close) and have kept in touch for….. (hold your breath) almost an year.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Then there’s NJ who has been a common friend through Jay. SA whom I’ve known since the start of my professional career. KA whom I had never interacted at work but got in touch later. So on and so forth. There has been a trait so compelling, so integral in all these ladies that had reassured me back then, and still continues to….in spite of the distance separating us.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But I have to confess that I am a big failure in forging relationships under force, or if I get nasty feelers from others. And (some) women seem to be so adept in this particular aspect :-|! I can good-humouredly tolerate rebukes. I can forgive taunts treating them as childish behaviour. However, at one point, I simply zonk out not caring about them at all. I marvel at people who can get along with people who spite them in the face. The penultimate peoples' person. Maybe it’s because of want. Maybe it’s because of need. Maybe they are mature beyond their years. The only thing I’ve learnt from such experiences is that each relationship requires a combination honesty, respect and time from both sides to nurture lastingly. A one-sided effort consumes energy and, with passing time, it simply drains away.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >To digress, as kids it's so easy to make friends. All you need is a peace-loving play-mate :-). With passing age, developing personalities impede. And finally as adults (hoo-boy...I make it sound like the end of the world!), it becomes so very difficult to forge friendship of the lasting variety, thanks to already formed (and sowed) thoughts and opinions. Common interests are a must to 'keep-in-touch'. And for some, status in the society as well. When was the last time you liked somebody for what they were? And because they brought to the surface a different 'you'.....and a better one at that? If you did, do not let them go.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >To all my girl-friends out there, thanks for being such an integral part of my life. I wish I could express how much. I hope that this does.</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-20162156400045125542008-09-29T10:36:00.000-07:002008-09-29T10:41:00.259-07:00Snowflake(s)<a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/SOESWswnQeI/AAAAAAAAHvA/ZIpxdKiZi6o/s1600-h/Snowflake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/SOESWswnQeI/AAAAAAAAHvA/ZIpxdKiZi6o/s400/Snowflake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251498821672190434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">This is how a snowflake looks like........</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/SOESdpWdQOI/AAAAAAAAHvI/7Wm9YmFylEM/s1600-h/Flower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xGyYf1_8tPc/SOESdpWdQOI/AAAAAAAAHvI/7Wm9YmFylEM/s400/Flower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251498941016260834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">And this is what I found on the banks of a lake in summer! </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Can anyone dispute the versatility of Mother Nature?</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19654483.post-70236007153086065952008-09-14T18:02:00.000-07:002008-09-14T18:05:57.104-07:00Flash news!<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;">My moment of </span><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://justfemme.in/?q=node/189">notoriety</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;"> ;-)...!</span>Chitrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01660142339863334706noreply@blogger.com9