Raining Thoughts

  Guess life is never complete without rewriting a fairy tale. Scouring away cinders off the cold hearth at night, Ella wondered, ‘Will there ever be an end to this misery?’ As if negating her hopes, Ella heard her stepmother thunder from upstairs. "Ella, are you dreaming? If you have scrubbed the kitchen, come upstairs, make my bed and wash my feet." Ella lived with her stepmother and her two stepsisters who had always been mean to her. Days passed on in drudgery. Deep within, Ella knew she was meant for something better in life. “What is my true calling?”, Ella would ask her reflection in the water barrel, to the squeaking mice in the barn and to the scudding clouds in the sky. “What do I really really want?” One day, an envoy from the palace arrived with an invitation for the young ladies of the house. A royal ball at the palace! The crown prince was looking for a bride. Ella helped her sisters prepare for the ball. The ladies were particularly careful in keeping Ella ...

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...

'I don’t know how much of 'subtle' phallic symbolism can be impregnated into my words if I say; every popular world cup ever played on this globe had always been about men & balls... Well, women may have rocked a million cradles. She might have made fundamental contributions to arts, science, math or sports. Women might have made the world go round, and eyes go 'rounder' in this microcosm where she gets stared at hard, by a certain section of the society that suffers from a condition of the worst kind, a certain species of mortals who cannot help but stare on, indifferent to her age, appearance or emotions. And at the end of it all… no golden cup awaits her, no golden boot laces to tie...' I had switched off close to around 29.5% of my consciousness concerning my immediate surroundings as I sat immersed in such random rants at one of my most loved vantage points in the world, the bus window seat. It was not raining outside anymore & the fresh ...

          A month and a half late into waking up to the call of Queen , I proverbially realize that it was better for me to have watched it late rather than postponing it to eternity at the fag-end of my diary notes, saving it for my doomsday-special-last-minute-list.           Kangana Ranaut in and as Queen , steals the show as she breaks away from her stereotypical ‘bold & beautiful’ mould and takes wing as the typical desiest of desi girls who embarks on her dream European ‘honeymoon’ all alone & heart-broken; ultimately, a journey that liberates her from the fear and humiliation that had been haunting her after the man she loved walks away from her life just a day before their wedding, flinging her into depths of depression & disgrace.           Queen is an overwhelming voyage that sets sail when a diffident Rani timidly expresses to her parents, her wish to leave for her ‘honeymoon...

The intoxication, indignation and emotion after draining Kalki Koechlin’ s rampant rant to the last drop down my soul still seems to be going strong. I found hundreds of likes on each of the shares that the ‘rant’ received on social networking sites , but somehow found myself unable to just hit the button and finish off my affair with that outpouring of Kalki’s heart, with just a ‘like’.  The name ‘Just Another Rant’ might assume the appearance of an olive branch to the naive eye, but let me assure you that it’s not just an olive branch that Kalki holds out to the world, but an olive orchard itself with the countless fruits of wit, brilliance, love, hate, independence, helplessness, chaos, myth, historicity, happiness, mischief, sarcasm, sadness, anger, loss, fragility, confidence, powerlessness, bias, beliefs, blame, religion, submission, responsibility, guilt, patience, fame, war, stereotyping, confusion, tradition, style, tales, colors, freedom, regret, luxury, fame...