[And when the guy behind me in the theatre dropped the water bottle by mistake and when hit my foot, suffice to say that made my heart come to my mouth for a second!]
Not a thu, but a Phew!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Quarantine...
...a movie which explains what 'Shit Scary' means. Chill runs down one's spine. Literally.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Rewind and Rejuvenate!
Re-experiencing the past days of life always gives one a nicer feeling. Going back to the past, reliving those happy moments, forgetting all about the present makes one a happier person. The other day, I took off to New York City to meet a friend. Pressingly short, yet incredible vacation right in the middle of an otherwise hectic work week it turned out to be. I used to work in NYC for 3 years and after I moved out of the city, in spite of so many weekends I go there to meet friends, its been a while I spent a week-day there. It indeed gave me an incredible feeling to witness the same fast life, where there is an untold haste in every body's lives. I reassured for the nth time that nothing is slow in this city, except for the hobos.
After a sumptuous meal at Saravana Bhavan, my friend and I decided to get out of the city and go to Long Island beach. As we were passing Queensboro Bridge, I saw the building we used to work and I instantly felt the surge of nostalgia inside me. Without giving much of thought, I took the exit and in minutes, pulled over in front of the building. I found the number of an ex-colleague and called him. He was fortunately still working there and he said he would be more than happy to meet us. He came down to the lobby and we met for coffee. A few minutes later, we called up another colleague and he joined us too. The four of us spent more than an hour, talking nothing but old memories. It was like school-kids talking fondly of their previous years as they grow up.
In a while, I enquired for our ex-boss and one of the colleagues suggested we go up and see her. He signed us in. We went to the 37th floor to meet her. I knocked her office and peeped inside. She was still for a short second and her face lighted up instantly. She enthusiastically screamed and gave me a huge hug. That her scream did make a couple of other folks open their office and check if everything was alright did not bother her. She enquired about my well-being and said she is really happy to see us. She wanted to go out for a smoke. And we all went down - another one hour passed in a jiffy.
Overall, it turned out to be such a wonderful evening. I honestly never knew I would be such a wanted guest at my previous workplace. I have busted my ass off for a good 3 years there and opted out of the place myself, because of fear of career stagnancy. The decision of moving out has been good for me, but to revisit the place for one day was absolutely great! When I stepped into the elevator and walked among the cubicles, it gave me such an inexplicable happiness. I have felt such a strange felicity only once before when I went to my school. Rewinding the days of life is indeed nice!
The other thought that I had, as I was driving back home is the gratitude that Americans show. I know it’s a tad silly to compare Nations in this regard and invoke generalization. Yet, as much as I hate to say this, I have not seen many desi managers who are great vis-à-vis western managers. Maybe it has got to do with the basic instincts or ethos.
My plan of going to the beach was messed up, yet I felt so satiated to have met people from the past. That immediate happiness my ex-boss showed or the excitement my colleagues displayed - I guess I cannot forget for some more days to come.
Rewinding in life does rejuvenate! Big time.
After a sumptuous meal at Saravana Bhavan, my friend and I decided to get out of the city and go to Long Island beach. As we were passing Queensboro Bridge, I saw the building we used to work and I instantly felt the surge of nostalgia inside me. Without giving much of thought, I took the exit and in minutes, pulled over in front of the building. I found the number of an ex-colleague and called him. He was fortunately still working there and he said he would be more than happy to meet us. He came down to the lobby and we met for coffee. A few minutes later, we called up another colleague and he joined us too. The four of us spent more than an hour, talking nothing but old memories. It was like school-kids talking fondly of their previous years as they grow up.
In a while, I enquired for our ex-boss and one of the colleagues suggested we go up and see her. He signed us in. We went to the 37th floor to meet her. I knocked her office and peeped inside. She was still for a short second and her face lighted up instantly. She enthusiastically screamed and gave me a huge hug. That her scream did make a couple of other folks open their office and check if everything was alright did not bother her. She enquired about my well-being and said she is really happy to see us. She wanted to go out for a smoke. And we all went down - another one hour passed in a jiffy.
Overall, it turned out to be such a wonderful evening. I honestly never knew I would be such a wanted guest at my previous workplace. I have busted my ass off for a good 3 years there and opted out of the place myself, because of fear of career stagnancy. The decision of moving out has been good for me, but to revisit the place for one day was absolutely great! When I stepped into the elevator and walked among the cubicles, it gave me such an inexplicable happiness. I have felt such a strange felicity only once before when I went to my school. Rewinding the days of life is indeed nice!
The other thought that I had, as I was driving back home is the gratitude that Americans show. I know it’s a tad silly to compare Nations in this regard and invoke generalization. Yet, as much as I hate to say this, I have not seen many desi managers who are great vis-à-vis western managers. Maybe it has got to do with the basic instincts or ethos.
My plan of going to the beach was messed up, yet I felt so satiated to have met people from the past. That immediate happiness my ex-boss showed or the excitement my colleagues displayed - I guess I cannot forget for some more days to come.
Rewinding in life does rejuvenate! Big time.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Beverly Hills Chihuahua...
...definitely recommended for dog-lovers. On the flip side, even a dog-hater is made to leave the movie hall with a smile!
Chihuahua - Wah re wah!
Chihuahua - Wah re wah!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Next?!
Life, they say is a roller-coaster ride
Or perhaps a rafting trip on a tough tide
No seat belt or life jacket to save from the fall
Yet one rides with comfort, to just have it all!
Or perhaps a rafting trip on a tough tide
No seat belt or life jacket to save from the fall
Yet one rides with comfort, to just have it all!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
...sequence of how the same chewing gum is being chewed by four different people at various times is the crux of the movie. And add some gay love and sporadic humour to that.
Thu!
Friday, October 3, 2008
Red...
Being born blessed with the endowment of infuriating and irritating people is a curse for some. Existence as the epitome of evoking annoyance on others seems inconspicuous for them. Scorning at them muttering something in the lines of 'Son of a bitch' inwardly does not really help. Neither to communicate the ire nor for self-satiation. One unfeignedly attempts to brush it aside as a likely sequence of event life poses, yet ends up writing a blogpost. For this is the best vent. A pressure valve.
Relief.
Relief.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Nights in Rodanthe...
Melodramatic. Richard Gere dies. My friend was sobbing. Almost.
I was sleeping. Almost.
I was sleeping. Almost.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Pets and Door banging!
Animals are one of the those creatures in this world, who can make me happy only when they pose in a wallpaper or be inside the cage. Definitely not when encountered in person. I like watching Animals on TV - I can watch the life history of even a hippopotomus in National Geographic for 4 hours. But when it comes to humans moving closely with animals, it sort of subtly freaks me out. I have this strange habit of being a totally different person while watching animals/pets on TV against seeing them in reality.
And yaa pets...when I see a dog on a leash being walked by somebody and when they come under proximity, a mild tension creeps in uninvitingly. I make all efforts to conceal my fear, or for lack of a better word, restlessness. Yet I resort for a detour. The other day, I saw Chandler saying in 'Friends' sitcom that one can never say what a dog thinks. How true!
Whenever I visit people who own dogs and consider them as more than family members, I make sure that the dog keeps a safe distance from me. Howmuchever they find it difficult to understand, I keep emphasizing 'dogs have to be kept where they should be'. I have a strange feeling that most dogs in this world hate me and somehow or the other, plan on attacking me one day.
One of my friends (while being caressed all over her face by the tongue-lick of whatever-dog-she-has) offers me an explanation. For her, the dog is more than a sibling. The only companion who can identify her. The only comrade who never changes color. The only friend who is loyal, honest and trustworthy. I laugh her out. Considering me, other than the reality that a dog can never talk back, I find nothing spellbinding.
During many of my regular visits to Central park in New york, I have wondered how small a grown-up dog can get and how much of love and affection can it withstand, no matter how small it is. No exaggerations - I have seen dogs smaller than the size of my sneaker. And it is funny when they bark. I laugh at my own joke of imagining telling one of such dog-owners to take the dog out of my way or I might mistakenly stamp on it! As per many of my friends, 'Stamp on it' is considered a blasphemy. Should be 'stamp on him or stamp on her'. It is amazing how much of affinity, love and affections humans show for pets.
And yesterday, the salesman at the guitar shop while talking to me and walking, tripped and fell on the floor. One of the on-lookers mockingly offered a comment that the salesman has the eyes of a cat. He gets up and asks her not to compare him to a cat. Per him, the cats are partially blind. He extends an unsolicited explanation - how his pet (a cat) runs across his living room and the kitchen at lightning speed when there is no need for such a real hurry. And most of the times, he says the cat at such a blinding speed would go bang herself straight on to the door. Not a glass door, not a transparent door - but a plain hard wooden one. BANG! He says he can never explain such a behaviour. One more person joins in saying how his lazy dog would be sleeping in the couch - And all of a sudden, out of the blues, she would toss herself up from the couch and sprint like a lightning.
Such maddeningly-crazy-running-episodes in the house are okay. And so are the annoyingly jarring barks. But there is much more pets can do. As much as they invite incredible love and affection of some people (like these babies do), they lead to the opposite too for others.
Without even their knowledge, pets can easily give one a phobia, one is not born with. Funny. Indeed.
[P.S : Pet lovers, please take this post in the lighter sense, as this is my 150th post!]
And yaa pets...when I see a dog on a leash being walked by somebody and when they come under proximity, a mild tension creeps in uninvitingly. I make all efforts to conceal my fear, or for lack of a better word, restlessness. Yet I resort for a detour. The other day, I saw Chandler saying in 'Friends' sitcom that one can never say what a dog thinks. How true!
Whenever I visit people who own dogs and consider them as more than family members, I make sure that the dog keeps a safe distance from me. Howmuchever they find it difficult to understand, I keep emphasizing 'dogs have to be kept where they should be'. I have a strange feeling that most dogs in this world hate me and somehow or the other, plan on attacking me one day.
One of my friends (while being caressed all over her face by the tongue-lick of whatever-dog-she-has) offers me an explanation. For her, the dog is more than a sibling. The only companion who can identify her. The only comrade who never changes color. The only friend who is loyal, honest and trustworthy. I laugh her out. Considering me, other than the reality that a dog can never talk back, I find nothing spellbinding.
During many of my regular visits to Central park in New york, I have wondered how small a grown-up dog can get and how much of love and affection can it withstand, no matter how small it is. No exaggerations - I have seen dogs smaller than the size of my sneaker. And it is funny when they bark. I laugh at my own joke of imagining telling one of such dog-owners to take the dog out of my way or I might mistakenly stamp on it! As per many of my friends, 'Stamp on it' is considered a blasphemy. Should be 'stamp on him or stamp on her'. It is amazing how much of affinity, love and affections humans show for pets.
And yesterday, the salesman at the guitar shop while talking to me and walking, tripped and fell on the floor. One of the on-lookers mockingly offered a comment that the salesman has the eyes of a cat. He gets up and asks her not to compare him to a cat. Per him, the cats are partially blind. He extends an unsolicited explanation - how his pet (a cat) runs across his living room and the kitchen at lightning speed when there is no need for such a real hurry. And most of the times, he says the cat at such a blinding speed would go bang herself straight on to the door. Not a glass door, not a transparent door - but a plain hard wooden one. BANG! He says he can never explain such a behaviour. One more person joins in saying how his lazy dog would be sleeping in the couch - And all of a sudden, out of the blues, she would toss herself up from the couch and sprint like a lightning.
Such maddeningly-crazy-running-episodes in the house are okay. And so are the annoyingly jarring barks. But there is much more pets can do. As much as they invite incredible love and affection of some people (like these babies do), they lead to the opposite too for others.
Without even their knowledge, pets can easily give one a phobia, one is not born with. Funny. Indeed.
[P.S : Pet lovers, please take this post in the lighter sense, as this is my 150th post!]
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Alcohol and women...
Being a teetotaler makes life seem futile. And the conception turns silly when the friends of opposite sex, one goes out with, drink margaritas and vodkas. Asking for a virgin drink in a bar is almost considered a capital offense or so the looks of the waiter/waitress convey. But one does not deter. With self-amusing composure, one rephrases and asks for fruit juice. And it indeed is a little sappy to be sipping cranberry juice, when the tablemates are gulping down cocktails.
But perceived with the truest of the thoughts, one feels a little untold pride. And the haze of being called a 'loser' fades away in the pride. One personally enjoys whenever people invite for arguments centering on the 'beaten-to-death' topic of drinking Vs abstaining. Such arguments are delightful and that too, it becomes all the more funny when the arguing person’s blood is so filled with ethyl alcohol.
Talking about drinkers, the other day I went out with a couple of friends to a local Italian restaurant. I was having regular coke and they were having wine. As soon as they said the wine is just so perfect for the evening, I added saying Coke is definitely better at that restaurant. They didn’t seem to understand. In fact, for somebody who drinks, it’s hard to appreciate the 'kick' of a non-alcoholic drink. One of my friends, for the sake of argument, asks me for one good reason for me being a teetotaler and I tell her honestly that the pride of not having touched alcohol yet makes one a stronger abstainer.
She could not readily agree, my other friend joined her and both of them were enjoying this 'lets-convince-Arun-today' business than the wine in the first place. I was having equal fun, trying to come up with answers for all the 'otherwise-valid' questions. After some 20 minutes of vain attempt, one of them showed a little frustration and resorted back to the wine. The other joined. For me, the pride sneaked in. I smiled.
I have always been the solo non-alcoholic person in a alcoholic group. I accompany folks to bars/hotels and invariably hog at the side-dishes meant for the drinkers. And as soon as the drinking starts, if any of the guys talk, I keep telling them to stop the gibber-talks. And if one of the guys walks to the restroom, I mockingly warn him not to dance along the way or bang the waiter.
As more alcohol mixes with the blood and as the guys get 'high' by the drink, triggering them to unexpected expressions and ridiculing is what makes me high.
In spite of the sporadic kicks and blows one might receive, such attempts of ridiculing a drunkard is the funniest experience one can feel thru. Not even watching all the seasons of Seinfeld in one shot can come close. Of course the side and the after-effects of the 'puke' episodes would be like interrupting ESPN abruptly and switching to Doordarshan.
Yet, what I missed to figure out was why some women have a strange attraction towards guys who drink. Maybe they mistakenly think drinking has got to do with manliness or something. Or that’s what I assumed.
But a few days ago, a few of my friend were saying that their strategy is to 'go out' with guys who drink, who dance, who smoke and who call them 'babe'. But at the end of it, they settle down for a guy who symbolizes 'chamathu' types. As much as that logic is confusingly stupid, it blurs me as I don’t fall in either of the cults. And all this when I'm not drunk.
I'm sure only women can confuse and increase the thinking time of men. Not even alcohol!
But perceived with the truest of the thoughts, one feels a little untold pride. And the haze of being called a 'loser' fades away in the pride. One personally enjoys whenever people invite for arguments centering on the 'beaten-to-death' topic of drinking Vs abstaining. Such arguments are delightful and that too, it becomes all the more funny when the arguing person’s blood is so filled with ethyl alcohol.
Talking about drinkers, the other day I went out with a couple of friends to a local Italian restaurant. I was having regular coke and they were having wine. As soon as they said the wine is just so perfect for the evening, I added saying Coke is definitely better at that restaurant. They didn’t seem to understand. In fact, for somebody who drinks, it’s hard to appreciate the 'kick' of a non-alcoholic drink. One of my friends, for the sake of argument, asks me for one good reason for me being a teetotaler and I tell her honestly that the pride of not having touched alcohol yet makes one a stronger abstainer.
She could not readily agree, my other friend joined her and both of them were enjoying this 'lets-convince-Arun-today' business than the wine in the first place. I was having equal fun, trying to come up with answers for all the 'otherwise-valid' questions. After some 20 minutes of vain attempt, one of them showed a little frustration and resorted back to the wine. The other joined. For me, the pride sneaked in. I smiled.
I have always been the solo non-alcoholic person in a alcoholic group. I accompany folks to bars/hotels and invariably hog at the side-dishes meant for the drinkers. And as soon as the drinking starts, if any of the guys talk, I keep telling them to stop the gibber-talks. And if one of the guys walks to the restroom, I mockingly warn him not to dance along the way or bang the waiter.
As more alcohol mixes with the blood and as the guys get 'high' by the drink, triggering them to unexpected expressions and ridiculing is what makes me high.
In spite of the sporadic kicks and blows one might receive, such attempts of ridiculing a drunkard is the funniest experience one can feel thru. Not even watching all the seasons of Seinfeld in one shot can come close. Of course the side and the after-effects of the 'puke' episodes would be like interrupting ESPN abruptly and switching to Doordarshan.
Yet, what I missed to figure out was why some women have a strange attraction towards guys who drink. Maybe they mistakenly think drinking has got to do with manliness or something. Or that’s what I assumed.
But a few days ago, a few of my friend were saying that their strategy is to 'go out' with guys who drink, who dance, who smoke and who call them 'babe'. But at the end of it, they settle down for a guy who symbolizes 'chamathu' types. As much as that logic is confusingly stupid, it blurs me as I don’t fall in either of the cults. And all this when I'm not drunk.
I'm sure only women can confuse and increase the thinking time of men. Not even alcohol!
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