Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Whipping up a bittersweet story
What makes us alive in the physical sense of the word. And, what makes one dead.
Think about the dead. They were there, all fine and healthy and suddenly, in one moment the transgression happened. They became still and cold. Loved ones then became a body that must be immediately disposed.
Here's my theory:
We live as long as we are bodily connected with the surroundings. Each breath we take is an alien mix of life-matter being pumped in. Imagine how much of the environment have we actually devoured to be alive for 20 or 30 or 80 years? Your life is the aggragate of your interactions with your surrounding. Once you stop breathing, that connection is lost, and so, you are 'dead.' I thought of the human body as a cocoon that shelters us from the disappointments of the outside world. Till this thought breezed by. Since then, living has got a strange, better perspective.
I owe my life to a million and more interactions with my surroundings, to strangers who came close enough in crowds for me to share their life-breath, to dogs who greedily lapped up my face and even to rogues who molested me in jam-packed buses. Everyone, however sweet or crude he/she may be, has made a contribution. Made me happy or sad, better or worse, but pushed me ahead by the way of experience. I am grateful.
Like this road I pass by everyday, it breathes into me. From the comfort of my car, I have slowly come to know all the urchins and madmen who line both sides of that street. A cycle cart is always parked on the left side, close to the dargah and half a dozen children play about. The other day, an absolutely bald girl, must be four at max, had fallen in the cart face down. She was flapping her feet frantically up in the air. Her hands were in a desperate position to keep her from tumbling down. She was screaming and crying and whipping up the most humourous frenzy I had seen in days. All beggers, tea sellers and betel nut sellers seemed to stop for a moment to have a good laugh. My car went a little ahead and I saw that bald girl fleeing the spot and galloping in the traffic with utter relief and disbelief. Someone must have finally thought to help the naughty child.
Then there's the old mad woman. I see her anywhere from one end of the street to the other. But wherever I see her, whenever I see her, she is busy counting something in the air. Without a break, without a moment's rest, her hand is always up, her lips always muttering something. Standing up, or sitting down, she has to count. I wonder how tired she may be at the end of the day, after such a ceaseless exercise. Just as I was wondering the first day I saw her what I could do to 'help', a street urchin walked to her, pressed a few coins in her hands and left. A few days later, her head was clean-shaven. She was oblivious and still counting, and still scratching her bald out of old habit. Someone had decided to give her a haircut and rid her of the lice. Someone cared.
These people have made a connection, made me feel more alive. When I die, I am sure a few breaths will be accounted to them.
Think about the dead. They were there, all fine and healthy and suddenly, in one moment the transgression happened. They became still and cold. Loved ones then became a body that must be immediately disposed.
Here's my theory:
We live as long as we are bodily connected with the surroundings. Each breath we take is an alien mix of life-matter being pumped in. Imagine how much of the environment have we actually devoured to be alive for 20 or 30 or 80 years? Your life is the aggragate of your interactions with your surrounding. Once you stop breathing, that connection is lost, and so, you are 'dead.' I thought of the human body as a cocoon that shelters us from the disappointments of the outside world. Till this thought breezed by. Since then, living has got a strange, better perspective.
I owe my life to a million and more interactions with my surroundings, to strangers who came close enough in crowds for me to share their life-breath, to dogs who greedily lapped up my face and even to rogues who molested me in jam-packed buses. Everyone, however sweet or crude he/she may be, has made a contribution. Made me happy or sad, better or worse, but pushed me ahead by the way of experience. I am grateful.
Like this road I pass by everyday, it breathes into me. From the comfort of my car, I have slowly come to know all the urchins and madmen who line both sides of that street. A cycle cart is always parked on the left side, close to the dargah and half a dozen children play about. The other day, an absolutely bald girl, must be four at max, had fallen in the cart face down. She was flapping her feet frantically up in the air. Her hands were in a desperate position to keep her from tumbling down. She was screaming and crying and whipping up the most humourous frenzy I had seen in days. All beggers, tea sellers and betel nut sellers seemed to stop for a moment to have a good laugh. My car went a little ahead and I saw that bald girl fleeing the spot and galloping in the traffic with utter relief and disbelief. Someone must have finally thought to help the naughty child.
Then there's the old mad woman. I see her anywhere from one end of the street to the other. But wherever I see her, whenever I see her, she is busy counting something in the air. Without a break, without a moment's rest, her hand is always up, her lips always muttering something. Standing up, or sitting down, she has to count. I wonder how tired she may be at the end of the day, after such a ceaseless exercise. Just as I was wondering the first day I saw her what I could do to 'help', a street urchin walked to her, pressed a few coins in her hands and left. A few days later, her head was clean-shaven. She was oblivious and still counting, and still scratching her bald out of old habit. Someone had decided to give her a haircut and rid her of the lice. Someone cared.
These people have made a connection, made me feel more alive. When I die, I am sure a few breaths will be accounted to them.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Good reads on Mumbai attacks
These are some well-thought articles you may take time out to read:
Why they hate Mumbai
- Suketu Mehta
Death Of A Salesman And Other Elite Ironies
- Tarun J. Tejpal
Why they hate Mumbai
- Suketu Mehta
Death Of A Salesman And Other Elite Ironies
- Tarun J. Tejpal
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Beauty
Why should you think that beauty, which is the most precious thing in the world, lies like a stone on the beach for the careless passer-by to pick up idly? Beauty is something wonderful and strange that the artist fashions out of the chaos of the world in the torment of his soul. And when he has made it, it is not given to all to know it. To recognize it you must repeat the adventure of the artist. It is a melody that he sings to you, and to hear it again in your own heart you want knowledge and sensitiveness and imagination.
-The Moon and Sixpence
W. Somerset Maugham
An interesting tag
An interesting tag. Saw it on Neilina's blog and couldn't resist making my own list... It's too long and takes up lot of my blog space, so may remove in some days. Give it a try, it's fun!
Rules:-
Out of the list, you are supposed to make ‘bold’ the things you have done.
01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said “I love you” and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and didn’t care who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Taken a midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theatre
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on a television news program as an “expert”
83. Gotten flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. Passed out cold
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking with the windows open
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a TV game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for 30 hours in a 48 hour period
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. States
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad and The Odyssey
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life
Rules:-
Out of the list, you are supposed to make ‘bold’ the things you have done.
01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said “I love you” and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and didn’t care who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Taken a midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theatre
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on a television news program as an “expert”
83. Gotten flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. Passed out cold
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking with the windows open
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a TV game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for 30 hours in a 48 hour period
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. States
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad and The Odyssey
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
A post to make me see sense
Ever since 26 night, as the whole drama unfolded, I have become numb by slow but sure degrees. The hostages who came out, most of them amazingly clam, poised and appreciative of the hotel staff and the commandos, surprised me with their impeccable hold on themselves.
We had been joking about a 'strike' for sometime now, and a few days ago, I had imagined the place if there were an attack. I actually saw bodies lying scattered for a second, and that open-eyed nightmare / simulation sent a shrill down my spine. Now, as the hours passed into another set of bloody, helpless hours, precisely the same imagination of horror was taking place somewhere else...
Taj, Trident, Oberoi , CST... more...
I was toying with the idea of removing the Dhoop Kinare videos. I was angry hearing about the very evident Pak connection and my anger suddenly took a collective, desperate form. Till I called my father. I know he is right. Everything begins and ends with the moral fabric of an individual, he said. A trivial connection when cited with respect to such a massive, such a horrific attack. But brood over it and there’s so much truth in it. Hate is such an expensive, fatal emotion to invest in. It produces nothing but regret.
So however confused, however shaken that I may be, I am going to stick to my original line of thought. Terror is not the face of any one religion. People, as a whole, are good. I am going to repeat this to myself a hundred times over till I can say it one breath, with as much conviction I said this before the 26th. If I can't, as Baba said, they will win. We can't afford one more person added to the vicious cycle of hate. Writing this post really helped me frame my random mind. What have you been thinking since the 26th? Are you still the same?
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Mumbai attacks- A consolidated link list
More than 101 injured
Anti-Terrorist Squad Chief Killed
Encounter Specialist dies
Japanese citizen dead
Australian reported dead
Seven British nationals injured
Places where attacks took place*:
Taj Hotel, Trident, CST- Victoria Terminus, Near Bootleggers, Near Cafe Leopold, Nariman House * Based on TV reports, please confirm with other news sources too
Not again...
Terror attacks in Mumbai. At least 25 feared dead. The pics I saw are spooky.
This is a Reuters article, with as much info as was available right off the scene...
Is our country entering in a spate of uncontrolled, random fits of terror?
More take birth than can easily live,
More die randomly like this,
A cruel twist of fate
May take me or you away tomorrow
Today is all we have
GG
This is a Reuters article, with as much info as was available right off the scene...
Is our country entering in a spate of uncontrolled, random fits of terror?
More take birth than can easily live,
More die randomly like this,
A cruel twist of fate
May take me or you away tomorrow
Today is all we have
GG
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Dhoop Kinare--- Anji and Zoya
Dhoop Kinare is a legendary Pakistani drama. I don't know how I missed searching for this gem of a serial on the internet. There's something about this serial that haunts you long after you have stopped seeing it. The dialogues, Zoya, Dr. Ahmer, the soulful music and lyrics (can't beat 'Jaise veerane mein chupke se bahaar aa jaye, Jaise beemar ko bewajah karaar aa jaye' can you? ) Embedding some episodes.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Dhoop Kinare
Dhoop Kinare is a legendary Pakistani drama. We saw all the episodes back in the 1990s at my aunty's place. After a lot of search, she finally found a site that has put most good episodes online. Here, I embed the last and perhaps the most romantic episode. It's 30 minutes long, so see it when you have time. But see it.
Links to this post / further reading:
Zoya (Marina Khan): 1) Wikipedia 2) Interview
Dr. Ahmer (Dr. Rahat Kazmi) : 1) Interview 2) Wikipedia
Haseena Moin (Writer) : 1) Wikipedia 2) Interview 3) Another interview
Links to this post / further reading:
Zoya (Marina Khan): 1) Wikipedia 2) Interview
Dr. Ahmer (Dr. Rahat Kazmi) : 1) Interview 2) Wikipedia
Haseena Moin (Writer) : 1) Wikipedia 2) Interview 3) Another interview
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Love rectangles
A friend likes another friend, but that friend hates him. Another friend likes another friend, that friend doesn't hate him, but doesn't love him either. A third friend loves one but seems to like many other friends too. A friend of a friend who patched with her bf also has a gf.
Life, did you have some fixation with screwing everything up?
LOL
At least I have a good laugh
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Dasvidaniya
Ten reasons* I liked the film:
1) It make you think about how we assume the things that need our immediate attention are as mundane as faulty geysers, buying vegetables for dinner
2) It brings out beautifully well the breadwinner's struggle at a day in a busy metro. Sweat, shoves, queues, snub
3) The pang of unexpressed first love
4) Childhood friendship
5) Death, and the opportunity it brings so that we can live to the full
6) The line, 'Zindagi kitni khoobsoorat hai'
7) A mother's denial (i.e. the quack) and acceptance (i.e. the lift) at the same time
8) The film repeats the most spiritual cliche of all times ever-- to live your dreams--- beautifully
9) The thing about gifts.
10) The fact that Dasvidaniyan is predictable and yet it's something a good movie buff shouldn't miss.
* There are so many wonderful films I have decided to write about here, but haven't done so for want of time to put a 'proper review'. From now, I am going to blog about ten reasons I loved a film. That should be short and doable. One request-- please share your reactions to all film reviews w/o revealing the suspense as far as possible. Or give a SPOILER warning. :)
CAST and CREDIT
Banner: Lemon Tea Productions, One More Thought Entertainment Pvt. Ltd.
1) It make you think about how we assume the things that need our immediate attention are as mundane as faulty geysers, buying vegetables for dinner
2) It brings out beautifully well the breadwinner's struggle at a day in a busy metro. Sweat, shoves, queues, snub
3) The pang of unexpressed first love
4) Childhood friendship
5) Death, and the opportunity it brings so that we can live to the full
6) The line, 'Zindagi kitni khoobsoorat hai'
7) A mother's denial (i.e. the quack) and acceptance (i.e. the lift) at the same time
8) The film repeats the most spiritual cliche of all times ever-- to live your dreams--- beautifully
9) The thing about gifts.
10) The fact that Dasvidaniyan is predictable and yet it's something a good movie buff shouldn't miss.
* There are so many wonderful films I have decided to write about here, but haven't done so for want of time to put a 'proper review'. From now, I am going to blog about ten reasons I loved a film. That should be short and doable. One request-- please share your reactions to all film reviews w/o revealing the suspense as far as possible. Or give a SPOILER warning. :)
CAST and CREDIT
Banner: Lemon Tea Productions, One More Thought Entertainment Pvt. Ltd.
Director: Shashant Shah
Star Cast: Vinay Pathak, Ranvir Shorey, Rajat Kapoor, Neha Dhupia, Saurabh Shukla
Gaurav Gera...... Vivek, Suchitra Pillai, Sarita Joshi...... Maa
Suresh Menon, Purbi Joshi...... Garima, Joy Fernandes...... Savio Sachin Khurana...... Varun
Singers: Kailash Kher, Sonu Nigam, Paresh, Naresh
Lyricist: Kailash Kher
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Bell Bajao
Talk about advertisements that touch. Public service/ awareness campaigns are powerful tools to reach the masses. The Bell Bajao campaign is one such.
I saw the advertisement for the first time today.
The message has been cleverly depicted. Dialogues are almost non existent. A bell, a look. That's all. An intervention that says a lot without saying anything.
Those who ring the doorbell to interrupt an episode of domestic violence ask nothing more than a cup of milk, or a cricket ball. And yet, they convey such a lot. Perhaps, even put an end to something that could have ended up in a suicide, a burn case, a grievous knife injury. These are not far-fetched ideas, no. Just read your news briefs more carefully and you will realise how sadly common it is for such misfortunes to happen in homes that are caught in domestic turmoils. (And you know what, half such news doesn't even reach you. It dies a sudden death for want for space.)
Bell Bajao. As long as there are people who are sensitive enough to give importance to such seemingly trivial, but indeed quite vital issues, there's still so much to feel good about. This is a wonderful, wonderful campaign. Hats off to the ad-men, script-writers, directors, producers et al.
I saw the advertisement for the first time today.
The message has been cleverly depicted. Dialogues are almost non existent. A bell, a look. That's all. An intervention that says a lot without saying anything.
Those who ring the doorbell to interrupt an episode of domestic violence ask nothing more than a cup of milk, or a cricket ball. And yet, they convey such a lot. Perhaps, even put an end to something that could have ended up in a suicide, a burn case, a grievous knife injury. These are not far-fetched ideas, no. Just read your news briefs more carefully and you will realise how sadly common it is for such misfortunes to happen in homes that are caught in domestic turmoils. (And you know what, half such news doesn't even reach you. It dies a sudden death for want for space.)
Bell Bajao. As long as there are people who are sensitive enough to give importance to such seemingly trivial, but indeed quite vital issues, there's still so much to feel good about. This is a wonderful, wonderful campaign. Hats off to the ad-men, script-writers, directors, producers et al.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Cliched but true is only an excuse
I had asked a question about cliches on Against the tide. While a complete post is awaited, here's what I got as a quick reply:
Cliches from Associated Press Guide to News Writing, Rene J. Cappon.
The link: http://cliche.theinfo.org/
awkward dilemma | brutal murder | close proximity | end result | entirely absent
exact counterpart | future plan | general public | gory murder | grateful thanks
| gruesome tragedy | lifeless corpse | mutual cooperation | new record |
original founder | patently obvious | personal friend | personal opinion |
present incumbent | sworn affidavit | surrounded on all sides | true facts |
ultimate outcome | gave permission to | held a meeting | proved of benefit |
to put in an appearance | reached an agreement | submitted his resignation |
take into consideration | established | conclusive evidence of | take into custody
accommodations | approximately | assistance | commence | finalize |
implement | in consequence of | initiate | methodology | motivation |
objective | purchase | remuneration | substantial proportion |
underprivileged | utilise | armed to the teeth battle | royal |
beat a hasty retreat | beyond the shadow of a doubt | bite the dust |
blessing in disguise | blissful ignorance | burning issue | club-wielding police |
colourful scene | conspicuous by its absence | coveted award | dramatic new move
dread disease | dream come true | drop in the bucket | fame and fortune |
gentle hint | glaring omission | gory details | grief-stricken | hand in glove|
hammer out | happy couple | head over heels in love | heart of gold |
heavily armed troops | iron out | intensive investigation | Lady Luck |
lash(|ed|es) out | leave no stone unturned | light at the end of the tunnel |
lightning speed | long arm of the law | man in the street | marvels of science |
matrimonial bliss | meagre pension | miraculous escape |
Mother Nature | moves into high gear | never a dull moment | Old Man Winter
paints a grim picture | pay the supreme penalty (price)
picture of health | pillar of society | pinpoint the cause
| police dragnet | pool of blood | posh resort | prestigious law firm | proud
heritage | proud parents | pursuit of excellence | red faces | red-faced |
reins of government | rushed to the scene | selling like hotcakes |
spearheading the campaign | spirited debate | spotlessly clean |
sprawling estate | spreading like wildfire | stranger than fiction | storm of protest
| supreme sacrifice | surprise move | terror-stricken | tie the knot |
tip of the iceberg | tower of strength | true colours | vanish in thin air |
walking encyclopaedia | wealth of information | whirlwind campaign |
last but not least | beck and call | bits and pieces | very unique |
clear and simple | death and destruction | each and every | fair and just |
few and far between | nook and cranny | pick and choose | ready and willing |
right and proper | safe and sound | shy and withdrawn | smooth and silk |
Cliches from Associated Press Guide to News Writing, Rene J. Cappon.
The link: http://cliche.theinfo.org/
awkward dilemma | brutal murder | close proximity | end result | entirely absent
exact counterpart | future plan | general public | gory murder | grateful thanks
| gruesome tragedy | lifeless corpse | mutual cooperation | new record |
original founder | patently obvious | personal friend | personal opinion |
present incumbent | sworn affidavit | surrounded on all sides | true facts |
ultimate outcome | gave permission to | held a meeting | proved of benefit |
to put in an appearance | reached an agreement | submitted his resignation |
take into consideration | established | conclusive evidence of | take into custody
accommodations | approximately | assistance | commence | finalize |
implement | in consequence of | initiate | methodology | motivation |
objective | purchase | remuneration | substantial proportion |
underprivileged | utilise | armed to the teeth battle | royal |
beat a hasty retreat | beyond the shadow of a doubt | bite the dust |
blessing in disguise | blissful ignorance | burning issue | club-wielding police |
colourful scene | conspicuous by its absence | coveted award | dramatic new move
dread disease | dream come true | drop in the bucket | fame and fortune |
gentle hint | glaring omission | gory details | grief-stricken | hand in glove|
hammer out | happy couple | head over heels in love | heart of gold |
heavily armed troops | iron out | intensive investigation | Lady Luck |
lash(|ed|es) out | leave no stone unturned | light at the end of the tunnel |
lightning speed | long arm of the law | man in the street | marvels of science |
matrimonial bliss | meagre pension | miraculous escape |
Mother Nature | moves into high gear | never a dull moment | Old Man Winter
paints a grim picture | pay the supreme penalty (price)
picture of health | pillar of society | pinpoint the cause
| police dragnet | pool of blood | posh resort | prestigious law firm | proud
heritage | proud parents | pursuit of excellence | red faces | red-faced |
reins of government | rushed to the scene | selling like hotcakes |
spearheading the campaign | spirited debate | spotlessly clean |
sprawling estate | spreading like wildfire | stranger than fiction | storm of protest
| supreme sacrifice | surprise move | terror-stricken | tie the knot |
tip of the iceberg | tower of strength | true colours | vanish in thin air |
walking encyclopaedia | wealth of information | whirlwind campaign |
last but not least | beck and call | bits and pieces | very unique |
clear and simple | death and destruction | each and every | fair and just |
few and far between | nook and cranny | pick and choose | ready and willing |
right and proper | safe and sound | shy and withdrawn | smooth and silk |
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Annapurna Tiffin Service
Food. Mortal existence essentially revolves around what we get to eat and how. The fortunate ones elevate the exercise of eating to exotic levels of culinary perfection. The less bestowed ones get something to eat only after a day full of rigid toil.
My being a foodie has a lot to do with my family, like I have said in this post. My parents are people who enjoy a simple, home cooked meal with humility and zest.
My earliest memories are playing about with my sister and cousins at my nani's house. Every festival meant going there. My nani would sit down in the kitchen, frying jalebis and malpuas, with the gas cylinder creepily close by. On festival days, she used two gas burners, instead of the usual one on the kitchen platform.
When I grew old enough to be scared of fire and the possibility of a cylinder blast dawned on me (children become aware of dangers sooner than us these days) I told my nani how risky it was to fry mal-puas thus. Everyone in the kitchen laughed me of. Food never fell short in that home. Go there at any odd hour and rest assured, you will find either a complete meal, or some filling snacks coaxed down your throat.
My mother had her mother's passion for cooking. And my father, never failed to appreciate her art. Each morning and each night, he sang passionate praises of how wonderfully she fed us all. He would only get cross if something fell short. Thankfully, it never has. Aaji has to ensure that the quantity is just right, for if rice or dal falls short, my Baba has this indignant fit of anger. He can praise rice gruel as if he's eating Biryani, but he pouts like a child even if a spoonful falls short.
While I am nowhere close the diligence of either my mother, or my aaji, I have inherited the appreciation of good food from my family, and a certain amount of whimsical fancy for cooking. Whimsical, for as my aaji says, only she is a good homemaker who boils her milk every day and makes ghee at the end of the month.
My father has immense respect for anyone who feeds him one complete meal. He says those homes are blessed where kitchens are always full of women happily churning out delicacies for their families. He calls such homemakers 'Annapurna', after the Goddess that ensures bounty of food in any household.
Some days back, when we called many to our home for dinner and I planned a menu so ambitious that even surprised me, Baba was overjoyed. "I am glad you take joy in cooking," he said. "You should take immense pride that you can feed someone. Don't turn out to be like those feminists who take pleasure of renouncing the kitchen. It's not a chore, but a privilege to be able to cook elaborate dinners," he told me.
When I didn't study, my father would chid me and weave this fantastic future scenario. He said if you don't study, the only resort would be to start Annapurnaa tiffin service, and jump up the bicycle wearing a ghaghra to go from door to door to deliver lunch boxes. But no sooner had he said this, he always added, "But I don't even mind if you do that. An honest and cheap restaurant business is a kind of social service."
The laughs we had when Baba started his Annapurna tiffin service story came to my mind when I was reading this blog sometime back. People from all over the world read and try her recipes. Their jubilant feedback after trying some item, even for a third person like me, is heartwarming. Ah, the joy food can spread...
My being a foodie has a lot to do with my family, like I have said in this post. My parents are people who enjoy a simple, home cooked meal with humility and zest.
My earliest memories are playing about with my sister and cousins at my nani's house. Every festival meant going there. My nani would sit down in the kitchen, frying jalebis and malpuas, with the gas cylinder creepily close by. On festival days, she used two gas burners, instead of the usual one on the kitchen platform.
When I grew old enough to be scared of fire and the possibility of a cylinder blast dawned on me (children become aware of dangers sooner than us these days) I told my nani how risky it was to fry mal-puas thus. Everyone in the kitchen laughed me of. Food never fell short in that home. Go there at any odd hour and rest assured, you will find either a complete meal, or some filling snacks coaxed down your throat.
My mother had her mother's passion for cooking. And my father, never failed to appreciate her art. Each morning and each night, he sang passionate praises of how wonderfully she fed us all. He would only get cross if something fell short. Thankfully, it never has. Aaji has to ensure that the quantity is just right, for if rice or dal falls short, my Baba has this indignant fit of anger. He can praise rice gruel as if he's eating Biryani, but he pouts like a child even if a spoonful falls short.
While I am nowhere close the diligence of either my mother, or my aaji, I have inherited the appreciation of good food from my family, and a certain amount of whimsical fancy for cooking. Whimsical, for as my aaji says, only she is a good homemaker who boils her milk every day and makes ghee at the end of the month.
My father has immense respect for anyone who feeds him one complete meal. He says those homes are blessed where kitchens are always full of women happily churning out delicacies for their families. He calls such homemakers 'Annapurna', after the Goddess that ensures bounty of food in any household.
Some days back, when we called many to our home for dinner and I planned a menu so ambitious that even surprised me, Baba was overjoyed. "I am glad you take joy in cooking," he said. "You should take immense pride that you can feed someone. Don't turn out to be like those feminists who take pleasure of renouncing the kitchen. It's not a chore, but a privilege to be able to cook elaborate dinners," he told me.
When I didn't study, my father would chid me and weave this fantastic future scenario. He said if you don't study, the only resort would be to start Annapurnaa tiffin service, and jump up the bicycle wearing a ghaghra to go from door to door to deliver lunch boxes. But no sooner had he said this, he always added, "But I don't even mind if you do that. An honest and cheap restaurant business is a kind of social service."
The laughs we had when Baba started his Annapurna tiffin service story came to my mind when I was reading this blog sometime back. People from all over the world read and try her recipes. Their jubilant feedback after trying some item, even for a third person like me, is heartwarming. Ah, the joy food can spread...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Hail George Orwell
In an age of politically correct writing, even gearing the subconscious in a politically correct mode of thought, George Orwell's writing reeks of candour to the best possible level of journalistic perfection.
While you may freely disagree with his views, you must read his essays, just to learn with what clarity and simplicity it is possible to put your thoughts across.
I have read, re-read, and plan to re-read his essays.
Last night, I found an amazing online collection of almost all his essays. Some, which I had not even heard of before. I feel it my duty to pass on the link here, and hope that at least few good readers here would find time to read this master wordsmith.
My favourites are Shooting an Elephant, A Hanging, Books v. Cigarettes, The Prevention of Literature, In Defence of English Cooking, Why I Write, Some Thoughts on the Common Toad. Even his critique on Gandhi is an interesting read. For that matter, each piece written by Orwell is special, sensitive without being overtly emotional. For example, Looking Back on the Spanish War.
The direct link of the entire list is this: netcharles.com
Orwell is worth investing time in.
While you may freely disagree with his views, you must read his essays, just to learn with what clarity and simplicity it is possible to put your thoughts across.
I have read, re-read, and plan to re-read his essays.
Last night, I found an amazing online collection of almost all his essays. Some, which I had not even heard of before. I feel it my duty to pass on the link here, and hope that at least few good readers here would find time to read this master wordsmith.
My favourites are Shooting an Elephant, A Hanging, Books v. Cigarettes, The Prevention of Literature, In Defence of English Cooking, Why I Write, Some Thoughts on the Common Toad. Even his critique on Gandhi is an interesting read. For that matter, each piece written by Orwell is special, sensitive without being overtly emotional. For example, Looking Back on the Spanish War.
The direct link of the entire list is this: netcharles.com
Orwell is worth investing time in.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Cold spell rant
A bad cold has left me feeling miserable. This is not a worthy topic for blog space, I know, but just once in a while I allow myself to use the blog as a ranting machine. In my cold spells, the anger I otherwise keep under a tight tab slips out on its own. All my silent, rather acute Virgo criticisms effortlessly fly to target the cause of my irritation. Under normal circumstances, I am satisfied by speaking only when necessary, or when I feel like doing so, or with people who happen to be within one hand's distance provided my mood is right. Then, I don't need introductions or familiarity. For a brief five minutes, I might just catch you and share with you any thought that passes my mind at that moment, however ridiculous it may be. When this happens in office, I have seen that people frantically start scouting for some work to keep me occupied. For my quips can be quite random- I know, I know. :(
For example: The other day, my usual herbal soap was finished and I had to use the Dettol menthol body wash (the one which comes in a blue pack). People, don't ever, ever make the mistake of buying this product. It is one of the most ridiculous toilet items ever made. It's a yucky experience bathing with this psychedelic bluish gel. It's exactly like bathing with colgate gel toothpaste. If you don't take me seriously, and dare to try the Dettol bodywash, you shall remember my blog while trying to wash that horrible, artificial, cold, 'minty' sting off your body and bitterly regret not heeding to this cold-spell-rant.
A scribble which turned out to be what I see as a House-fly...
For example: The other day, my usual herbal soap was finished and I had to use the Dettol menthol body wash (the one which comes in a blue pack). People, don't ever, ever make the mistake of buying this product. It is one of the most ridiculous toilet items ever made. It's a yucky experience bathing with this psychedelic bluish gel. It's exactly like bathing with colgate gel toothpaste. If you don't take me seriously, and dare to try the Dettol bodywash, you shall remember my blog while trying to wash that horrible, artificial, cold, 'minty' sting off your body and bitterly regret not heeding to this cold-spell-rant.
A scribble which turned out to be what I see as a House-fly...
Monday, October 13, 2008
Learn while you can
It’s difficult to get good teachers, the real kinds.
Who, with their very passion, can make learning a joy. In their presence, syllabus escapes out of the boredom of books and starts dancing merrily about you. You catch all their words awestruck, sometimes not without a dumb reverence for which friends chide you. Many teachers shaped the course of my life in their own special ways. Like my aaji, or Fr., or Ishwarbhai or Joseph Pinto.
Of the two years I spent in Pune, I owe a lot to his teachings. Pinto has decided to take his experience beyond the restrictions of a classroom. He has started a blog where he intends to discuss what his students and friends wish him to. But he has a condition.
In his own words:
You will have to ask. As the good man says in the good book, "Ask and you shall Receive. Seek and you will Find. Knock and the Door shall be Opened."
Be it editing (how to write a crisp copy), features (typical blog material), reports (the nearly extinct species in newspapers today), or media ethics (a classmate declared journalism selfish- "I write about the ill and poor, get a byline and forget,” she fumed. Pinto called her to the dais, applauded her and talked about journalism activism) --- if you have a question related to journalism, drop in a comment on his blog, Against the tide.
Recalling my student days, Pinto thundered with a fanatic insistence on how words should be used and we wriggled uncomfortably initially. He was unpredictable in his insistence for accuracy. One day he would rip us apart while discussing reports- get furious on seeing any adjective or adverb thrown in a report. The next day, in a feature writing class, he would censor the staid language, lament the loss of imagination; the extinction of innovative adjectives to describe a situation. We thought the man a tad too eccentric when he insisted 'write it down' in response to any raised hand to answer a query. Here's a chance, for everyone to benefit from the expertise of a seasoned editor, a real teacher. Learn while you can.
Who, with their very passion, can make learning a joy. In their presence, syllabus escapes out of the boredom of books and starts dancing merrily about you. You catch all their words awestruck, sometimes not without a dumb reverence for which friends chide you. Many teachers shaped the course of my life in their own special ways. Like my aaji, or Fr., or Ishwarbhai or Joseph Pinto.
Of the two years I spent in Pune, I owe a lot to his teachings. Pinto has decided to take his experience beyond the restrictions of a classroom. He has started a blog where he intends to discuss what his students and friends wish him to. But he has a condition.
In his own words:
You will have to ask. As the good man says in the good book, "Ask and you shall Receive. Seek and you will Find. Knock and the Door shall be Opened."
Be it editing (how to write a crisp copy), features (typical blog material), reports (the nearly extinct species in newspapers today), or media ethics (a classmate declared journalism selfish- "I write about the ill and poor, get a byline and forget,” she fumed. Pinto called her to the dais, applauded her and talked about journalism activism) --- if you have a question related to journalism, drop in a comment on his blog, Against the tide.
Recalling my student days, Pinto thundered with a fanatic insistence on how words should be used and we wriggled uncomfortably initially. He was unpredictable in his insistence for accuracy. One day he would rip us apart while discussing reports- get furious on seeing any adjective or adverb thrown in a report. The next day, in a feature writing class, he would censor the staid language, lament the loss of imagination; the extinction of innovative adjectives to describe a situation. We thought the man a tad too eccentric when he insisted 'write it down' in response to any raised hand to answer a query. Here's a chance, for everyone to benefit from the expertise of a seasoned editor, a real teacher. Learn while you can.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Cuisine, Celebrations and Communalism
Of late, fundamentalism- from all possible sides of the faith divide- has marred things- all over India and perhaps more specifically in the city and state I so much love. Bomb blasts in Delhi, Gujarat, Maharashtra, Bangalore caused an unprecedented unease and cast a shadow on the Navratri, Durga puja and Eid celebrations. I wonder why mindsets cannot gel as easily as cuisine can.
I shall talk about Cuisine, Celebrations and Communalism, the things that occupy my mind more prominently at this point of time. However diverse be the faith we follow and the beliefs we believe, all of us converge at one single melting point without exception- food.
All our ambitions boil up to roti, kapda and makaan. For most readers here, the quest may not be so simplified and the march to luxury must have set quite high standards on all the three fronts. For example, I pay my house-help some INR 775/- per month and the cook another 700/-.We don’t bat our eyelids to spend the same amount- their entire month’s salary- on a single evening of eating out. It is precisely for this unfortunate divide, that each one of us needs to be truly grateful for the sumptuous food we can afford to eat.
I grew up to shouts of ‘don’t waste food’ from my Aaji. Her kitchen was, and still remains, an epitome of hygiene, economy and taste. ‘Eat what is made or go hungry’ was a common diktat. Her fanatic exactions have made us respect food even if we cannot measure up one-tenth to her standards or style. It is for her that my taste-buds are not fussy today. Saying no seems awkward and wasting means guilt.
My Aaji is an open-minded person. So while no one at home was allowed to cook non-veg, she didn’t stop us from trying out. ‘I feel it wrong to kill to eat when you have such abundant options. But the decision is yours,’ she says. Her disapproval is subtle and democratic. It is with such a background that I not only grew up to be a first rate foodie, but also tolerant and receptive to different cooking styles.
Like I learnt to appreciate the classic Malayalee cuisine at my friend’s place. I first tasted fish here under the watchful eye of my Baba. ‘What if the bone gets stuck in her throat. She eats way too fast,” he said and seriously believed. But aunty just laughed this out. She took the piece bits by bits and literally fed me my first mouthful of fish. Since then, be it Onam or Christmas, I would go there and hog away all the mallu preparations with glee.
Post Eid, I got to sample the most amazing bowl of sevaiyyas at the house of our Urdu teacher. I still remember the breath-taking taste of the spoonfuls of chicken biryani another Muslim classmate’s mother had made.
And how can I miss the kesar-dhoodh aaji boils to perfection for Kojagiri poornima? Or the diyas she makes out of chana-dal for the ‘Jeevti’ puja on the Friday of the Saavan month? Or the Pooran poli for Sankranti?
Cooking is a major part of all festivals and cooking is what has the potential to bring people from different walks of life in one happy union. When we can sample delicacies of different castes and communities with fervour, why can’t we be tolerant to the different modes of thought? Why are we bent on seeing things in black and white? Why is it that a viewpoint has the scope only to fall in two extreme categories today?
I am scared that the way things are going in India, a migrant in Mumbai would soon be forced to eat nothing but pithla bhaat and a north-Indian techie in Bangalore would have to learn and write in Kannada before he ventures out for a job. Only the masala dosa has become ubiquitous. It’s high time that familiarity leaves the boundaries of kitchen and paves way in the minds of people.
One can think right only with a full stomach. All of us here have the good fortune to eat without a worry for tomorrow’s ration. Let us all be a little more broadminded in wake of the recent spate of tension all over the country.
When the Parsi community first landed on a shore in Gujarat, they dissolved sugar in milk and said they would mix with the native population just as easily. The community has remained true to their symbolic word of promise. I suppose it can’t be that difficult for each one of us to follow suit.
-Gauri Gharpure
This article first saw light of the day on Internations, thanks to Hans' prompt kindness, and recently, on Sailaja's excellent food blog. Many thanks to both. If you like it enough, feel free to reproduce this article on your blog too...
I shall talk about Cuisine, Celebrations and Communalism, the things that occupy my mind more prominently at this point of time. However diverse be the faith we follow and the beliefs we believe, all of us converge at one single melting point without exception- food.
All our ambitions boil up to roti, kapda and makaan. For most readers here, the quest may not be so simplified and the march to luxury must have set quite high standards on all the three fronts. For example, I pay my house-help some INR 775/- per month and the cook another 700/-.We don’t bat our eyelids to spend the same amount- their entire month’s salary- on a single evening of eating out. It is precisely for this unfortunate divide, that each one of us needs to be truly grateful for the sumptuous food we can afford to eat.
I grew up to shouts of ‘don’t waste food’ from my Aaji. Her kitchen was, and still remains, an epitome of hygiene, economy and taste. ‘Eat what is made or go hungry’ was a common diktat. Her fanatic exactions have made us respect food even if we cannot measure up one-tenth to her standards or style. It is for her that my taste-buds are not fussy today. Saying no seems awkward and wasting means guilt.
My Aaji is an open-minded person. So while no one at home was allowed to cook non-veg, she didn’t stop us from trying out. ‘I feel it wrong to kill to eat when you have such abundant options. But the decision is yours,’ she says. Her disapproval is subtle and democratic. It is with such a background that I not only grew up to be a first rate foodie, but also tolerant and receptive to different cooking styles.
Like I learnt to appreciate the classic Malayalee cuisine at my friend’s place. I first tasted fish here under the watchful eye of my Baba. ‘What if the bone gets stuck in her throat. She eats way too fast,” he said and seriously believed. But aunty just laughed this out. She took the piece bits by bits and literally fed me my first mouthful of fish. Since then, be it Onam or Christmas, I would go there and hog away all the mallu preparations with glee.
Post Eid, I got to sample the most amazing bowl of sevaiyyas at the house of our Urdu teacher. I still remember the breath-taking taste of the spoonfuls of chicken biryani another Muslim classmate’s mother had made.
And how can I miss the kesar-dhoodh aaji boils to perfection for Kojagiri poornima? Or the diyas she makes out of chana-dal for the ‘Jeevti’ puja on the Friday of the Saavan month? Or the Pooran poli for Sankranti?
Cooking is a major part of all festivals and cooking is what has the potential to bring people from different walks of life in one happy union. When we can sample delicacies of different castes and communities with fervour, why can’t we be tolerant to the different modes of thought? Why are we bent on seeing things in black and white? Why is it that a viewpoint has the scope only to fall in two extreme categories today?
I am scared that the way things are going in India, a migrant in Mumbai would soon be forced to eat nothing but pithla bhaat and a north-Indian techie in Bangalore would have to learn and write in Kannada before he ventures out for a job. Only the masala dosa has become ubiquitous. It’s high time that familiarity leaves the boundaries of kitchen and paves way in the minds of people.
One can think right only with a full stomach. All of us here have the good fortune to eat without a worry for tomorrow’s ration. Let us all be a little more broadminded in wake of the recent spate of tension all over the country.
When the Parsi community first landed on a shore in Gujarat, they dissolved sugar in milk and said they would mix with the native population just as easily. The community has remained true to their symbolic word of promise. I suppose it can’t be that difficult for each one of us to follow suit.
-Gauri Gharpure
This article first saw light of the day on Internations, thanks to Hans' prompt kindness, and recently, on Sailaja's excellent food blog. Many thanks to both. If you like it enough, feel free to reproduce this article on your blog too...
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