Raining Thoughts

As the title suggests, yes, I went to see The Martian too. I was very very impressed seeing Matt Damon harvest his successful crop of shit-laced Martian potatoes, eat a few and then make it successfully back to Earth in one piece. But I couldn’t help wondering why Matt Damon ever wanted to come back to such an obnoxious planet that is infested with the most poisonous of living organisms, supposedly considered to be the highest form of life on the planet. Man. A species so carnally deteriorated that the fully matured ones have deviated towards feeding on the infants of the species to appease their ghastly lust for flesh. The Martian was a fantastic experience. However, the best of our experiences are often marred by what precedes it and what ensues right after. And, this is exactly what marred The Martian for me, and it had nothing to do with the way the movie was or the actors were. So, off to what happened before…. I have always loved those specially made national Anthem vi

Sharing a not-so-very-old uncut version of an item I had drafted as part of contributing to an old (again, not-so-very-old) internal employee newsletter at work...  There was an era when I used to remain AFAP from slang words and SMH vehemently every time I came F2F with informal slangs, even in text messages sent across by friends; until one fine day the information superhighway YOLO’d me and I started taking note of ‘slangs’ AAMOI! I am no more a hater of this relaxed hypermodern lingo when it comes to casual contexts like replying to a friend’s comment on SM, impishly irritating my perfectionist father or responding to personal emails from familiar contacts. Corporate jargons and slangs are not uncommon at our workplaces too. We often speak about ‘crunching the numbers’ or ‘testing the waters’. However the scene becomes inapt when text shorthand and chat acronyms make their way into business communications lending an unprofessional or even an offensive tone to the inte

A highly ornate BMW diesel auto-rickshaw that was stuck in the slow moving traffic in front of the non-branded rickshaw I was travelling in triggered off the amusement button in my head today. Amusing though it might have been for me at that instant, it sure would not have been so for the car owner who would have suffered the loss of his precious car emblem. I could almost picture him somewhere  in a posh Pune suburban villa, wringing his artificially re-grown crown of pitch black hair in angst, possibly at an emblem’s distance away from sanity altogether... Car logo thieves are frenziedly spreading brand equality all across the country nowadays. A slice of ‘have-ism’ gouged out and blatantly plastered across the foreheads of the have-nots. To anybody who asks ‘What’s in a logo?’ the answer would be ‘a whole lot!’ because that’s apparently what the ubiquitous mafia-like body that is involved in this ignoble art across the length and breadth of this nation suggests. One cannot e

          The outpouring of vehicles from the cyber park gate reaches an overwhelming crescendo at 6 pm. As I wait for the right moment to cross the road that would take me to the peaceful sidewalk where I could join the trickling pedestrians, I feel something soft and furry brush against my free hand. It is Mr. Dog; or rather, his tail. I say Mr. Dog because, I’ve been noticing Mr. Dog from Day-1, the veritable handsome fellow that he is. His coat of fur, oat-bread beige and his eyes a soft honey-brown; he would always be trotting in and around the park gate nibbling up titbits dropped by the fleeting crowd, nibbling dusty wayside flowers and sometimes nibbling at nothingness with perked up ears and a happy grin. A free spirit….          As I get on to the sidewalk, Mr.Dog does the same and trots ahead. ‘That’s a cute stray over there’, I hear one of the walkers ahead of me say. I feel an ounce of resentment well up within me, but unable to immediately place it into any comp

A picture that so reminds me of Leander (a.k.a The Poocha), or rather his condescending attitude towards humans, the alpha cat that he was...either dangerously growling or purring like an engine or texting his messages of fury across my arms; my personal tattoo artist of yore, designer of those fine signature scars upon my wrist, some of them still visible under a bright sun. I loved him for everything that he was. A cat that could oscillate between antagonism and apology, all in the same minute. He loved his sardines. But he loved his liberty most, the silent prerogative that he administered upon us one fine day and vanished without a trace. I am glad for the mystery he left behind…a whiff of immortality in his wake… In spite of this disappearing act of his being years & years ago, he still comes in my best dreams sometimes, menacingly waving his tail...his feline grey-green eyes gleaming, to scratch me awake from his memories. Pic courtesy : Google Images

Gazillion thoughts about our cosmos keep circling within the undercurrents of my subconscious. All questions regarding the sky and beyond strewn unanswered across my mindscape. Being  a mathematically and ‘equationally’ challenged human being from birth, I could never dream of furthering my knowledge on this topic by understanding the complex equations or scientific models of physical cosmology that would definitely provide a world of insight into the mysteries of the particle realm to anybody but me, a veritable mathematical handicap, a likely female Aadu Thoma . ‘Bah-bah-bah-bah’, an old Chacko maash would have said in disdain. The end of the millennium witnessed the theories of the Universe being challenged by theories of a possible Multiverse… Metaverse and what not. Exhilarating… But more chaos! The movies did a fine job, I must say. But is that it? For now… this mystifying world is wondrous enough as it is… and I will just keep spinning in circles… unti

Watching posts and discussion threads from others scroll up the facebook wall is rather like overhearing conversations in real life. However the guilt is comparatively less or nil, as most of these exchanges find their way into the shared cosmos post authorization from their owners to run amok and roll out the joy among mankind. A conversation thread I happened to recently over hear  glimpse was one between my school-going nephew and a couple of his friends; a conversation that revolved around 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S'. It is surprising to see the circle grow and overlap generations of friends all around, or is it? After all humor has no death, and F.R.I.E.N.D.S is proof. My relationship with F.R.I.E.N.D.S was rather complicated and strained until a few years back. I had never been a fan of the series in my younger days, unlike my sister, who used to hold the series responsible for not letting her smirk for an hour everyday, and like my husband, who till date strongly believes i

Maggi’s brand building endeavors or magic masala flavors have never managed to woo my taste-buds as a much as a bowl of fish-curry rice or a platter of tapioca with ground onion & green chilli paste from my mother’s kitchen, but then.. that’s not what the whole concept of Maggi had been about.. to a huge population of the Maggi-loving, Maggi-trusting Indians over the past quarter of a century.  Maggi was India’s first instant noodle brand, easy to cook and light on the pocket & became as instantly the preferred choice of a quick bite, and sometimes even a major meal of the day for millions of children and adults alike who took to Maggi like ants to cubes of sugar; the widely preferred choice of a safe and healthy snack; be it right at home or miles away from home. I have memories of my mother, my aunts and my grandmother all tossing up that steamy bowl of Maggi with veggies & scrambled eggs, a loving welcome home meal after school or a game. This was and still is p

                        Perhaps I should have titled this post just ‘Dreams’. I’d not only have done Freud a favor, but also to myself in uncomplicating matters, simply because the truth about dreams, I feel,  is that they can never be interpreted fully. They are these indecipherable bits of moondust that seep into your brain in the dead of night, to trick you into believing that your cat is not dead, your apartment watchman is an FBI agent, your car is really a Ferrari in Maruti disguise, your swimming pool has an underground connection that drains into the Pacific ocean, your kitchen water purifier has started running wine, your maid is an alien from Andromeda and best of all, those un-called for siesta dreams that graciously grant you entire evenings free of cost, when you’ve just dreamt that a day has passed you by.                       The latest dream that poked me awake from my sleep involved characters & altered visuals from Chemmeen accompanied by the eerie

I've always been fond of certain words, though I've never been able to explain why. Certain words like elusive... insane... perhaps…reason…poignant…absurd…tranquil…twist…. TWIST!...  Let me stop and breathe for a moment… A recent turn of events on a bygone evening certainly seems to have caused a few tectonic shifts in my perspective of words. Looking back it seems that I've always loved certain words very much, as they have always maintained a safe distance from my life. Tranquil, Absurd, Poignant & co. are all welcome for tea at my table, provided they have the tea, samosas, chit-chat and leave my table to never come back, unless I request them to return. But this guy…Twist… Well, he came for tea, uninvited, ate up all the samosas too and never left. A minor road accident which involved zero vehicles, but ‘n’number of loose gravel on a busy road-side and who else, but the miserable me. Wish I could just rewind and delete off that ill-fated minute from my li

Alleppey had us at ‘hello’. The pristine morning sunshine rippling upon her backwaters and the most delectable breakfast on her platter…steaming hot idi appams & what I would forever call the yummiest, tangiest & spiciest fish curry on earth had us excitedly looking forward to the longest backwater cruise in Kerala.  The boat-ride from Allepey to Quilon (Alappuzha to Kollam, for us Malayalis) was packed with 8 hours of soul-melting rendezvous with nature. The ride took us through 3 of the major backwater lagoons in Kerala, the Vembanad, Kayamkulam & Ashtamudi lakes intertwined with scores of water channel systems to form the most beautiful water world of God’s own country. With an array of passengers from different geographies across the world on board, our boat was no less than a microcosm of diverse senses and perceptions that collectively lapped up the sinuous sounds and verdant visions that enveloped us from all around. Rest of the tale…in pictures.

As I walked among the rows and rows of memory stones, reading the engravings upon each, an agonizing comprehension dawned that almost all the war heroes whose souls have been interred here were just teenagers or slightly older soldiers, nipped from the stalk of life in the prime of their youth, by the wars, the first and the second world wars. The Kirkee War Cemetery in Pune, maintained to this day by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, remains a tribute to the valiant lives of thousands of service personnel, lost as part of both the world wars, while living & serving in India during the colonial era. It was not a planned visit, but one that abruptly materialized during our drive through the military cantonment area across the Mula road along which the cemetery rests serenely wrapped in green. The drive itself was a beautiful experience with the summer blooms sheltering the smooth roads and occasional sightings of old stone buildings and grassy expanses of land. We

The thick white mist grew whiter by the second and spiraled all around us, immersing us in a tangible heaven that had charmingly descended upon the mortal world.  As soon as we set foot upon her fairyland, the dame de mystique , Kodaikanal lost no time at all in casting her magic spell upon us, captivating our minds, unleashing upon us her umpteen shades of green and white, exalting the mountains. Time has not withered her magnificence. Surpassing her own beauty time after time, each time, this ‘princess’ among hills has remained forever young, forever beautiful & ever so pristine. There was rain. There was mist. There was never a dull moment, never a halt to beauty as we journeyed on and on, spell-bound through her green winding roads, hoping the trail would never end. 

Of all my text books from primary school, the one closest to my heart was the colorful science text book full of vivid color pictures and fancily boxed fun facts. In comparison to the monochrome social studies and language books, the science book stood out like a beautiful rainbow full of promises… a beacon of hope in a color-deprived universe.  And of all the chapters in there, the very very multicolored seed dispersal chapter always looked best to me with its seeds of all hues, shapes and sizes, illustrated in different acts of getting dispersed. Seed dispersal was (and is) a gargantuan affair. It could alter geographies, flora, fauna, perhaps…the course of life itself. And all those fine techniques nature chose to employ. How strangely impressive! Flying seeds, floating seeds, hooked seeds, sticky seeds, clingy seeds, chewy seeds, shitty seeds…  Ah well…that brings me to the crux of the matter. About time I began my post. So… It’s one of those lull train journeys that is in p

I just sensed quite a few female subconscious minds flash yellow & black upon reading the post title this time. Well…the subconscious somehow always senses it right. Read on... The word ‘colossal’ used to draw images of the Colosseum in Rome or the Colossus of Barletta until a few years ago for the female population in the country, and that was precisely until the day Colossal Kajal from Maybelline New York hit the shelves, creating a furore in the beauty markets of India in 2011. Like the millions of ‘colossal’ fans all over the country I too lost no time in going loco over this yellow magic pen that gave your eyes the bold & beautiful look. How much ever bankrupt I became towards the end of the month I would always keep aside an emergency Colossal kajal fund just in case I ran out of this piece of 'sheer necessity' ;) In fact my husband thinks that all this is a tad too much for a lady who had never even bothered to use any form of make-up including kajal befo