Hmmmmm....

GIRLS!

2011-12-18T20:43:00.000+05:30

I am no feminist. But just to supplement to my posts on girl power, here is something I came across a while back.Sweet & simple.

♥ Girl... ♥

From the day one..

she becomes apple of her father’s eyes…

Her silent tears do wonders..

and Dad agrees to do on what he said a big 'No' earlier..!

She can walk in style all day long without lookng tired..

She burns her hand....while cooking for u...but never complains...

She can cry all night, but the next morning when her eyes are red..

its just because mascara hit her eyes..

She Likes to be called "Angel" or "Princess" or "Baby"…

She will drop a lot of hints to tell you that she Loves you

But she won’t come say it directly..

When a guy says something really sentimental,

She will remember it forever..

When a girl cooks for you.. You know..?

You mean a lot to her..

She feels Honoured.. when You ask her Advice..

She feels Shy.. when you look at her Silently..

She feels Protective when she is dependent on you..

She is expected to seal her Words …

to crush her emotions… to stop her tears..

and to have a big smile on her face.. no matter how hard she is crying inside..

She is one.. who is treated as a Princess in her Parent's House,

when she gets Married.. She leaves every thing behind..

her Parents, their Love.. her Room..

she adopts your family Values.. even your family name..

She calls ur mother "Mum"... and ur father "Dad"

2011-11-30T12:27:00.000+05:30

The fact that I am alive today in spite of the shambles, is the proof that I have gotten stronger

Empowerment

2011-06-25T20:51:00.001+05:30

Recently a close friend had sent me a text which went like this, “I now understand what women empowerment is all about. A person like you (brought up abroad, educated, with experiences outside her own state) cannot do something that she likes because of society. I am lucky to be a man! ”

His frankness is commendable but I could not help wondering if I was really unlucky. Being a woman isn’t easy (at least from where I come from) in any way. Every day is a battle for some respect and respect isn’t something you can force out of anybody. You get judged for everything you do/say/wear and you are charged guilty for life simply because you live life the way you want it. One thing I truly appreciate is their wild creative imagination (thanks to the soap operas) to tailor gossips & rumors with the snap of their fingers and continue on shamelessly in spinning their webs to their utmost delight. And sadly here, it’s the women themselves who make your life a living hell unlike the male counterparts.

People are a total scam if they can’t get their attitudes right.

Impressions

2010-09-17T17:00:00.002+05:30

Off late I have turned into a devotee of the works by Robin Sharma. The obsession would perhaps be due to the fact that there are very few self-help literature works to which I can relate to. It takes more than just reading philosophy and deciding to tweak a makeover.

So while listening to one of his audio features, there was a mention of an African – American woman named Oziola McCarthy. She passed away at the age of 91 after spending her entire life washing other people’s dirty laundry. This woman grew up in wretched poverty and faced one tragedy after another during the course of her life. She never left home except to buy groceries and to visit the church. She remained a spinster all her life, although when she was 87 she did tell her best friend that she was still looking out for a good man. And yet when this woman passed away, she had been honored by world leaders and even received an honorary doctorate from Harvard University.

So what was so special about her? Here’s her story.

As a young woman, she used to deposit every dime and nickel that she received on washing other people’s clothes at a local bank. This went on for days, weeks, months, years and decades until one day when she was 87 and paid a visit to the bank.

The man behind the counter greeted her and asked her, “Oziola, do you have any idea how much money you have accumulated into your account?” She said, “No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

He replied, “You have accumulated over one quarter of a million dollars. What do you want me to do with it?” Now Oziola was a simple woman and didn’t understand how much money that was, so here is what the man behind the counter did. He put across ten coins on the counter and said, “These ten coins represent your money. Tell me what I should do with it.” She pointed at the first coin and said, “I would like to give that to the church” and pointed at the next three coins and said, “I would like to give these to my nieces, nephews and cousins because I love them so much. As for the other six coins, I have something very special in mind.”

One month later a local university received a cheque from her for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a handwritten note attached to it which read: I would like you to set up a scholarship for poor African-American students who still know how to dream.

This act of humanity turned around heads all around the world. Later when she was asked what her dream was, she replied, “I so dearly wish to see the first recipient of my scholarship on the graduation stage before I pass away. But that probably is not going to happen because of my advanced age.” And yet one month before she died, the first recipient of her scholarship did walk across the platform. After she passed away, the student was tracked down for his comments. He said, “Heaven couldn’t have gotten a better angel. She was an inspiration, a blessing and a treasure to the world.”

Courtesy: Sharma Leadership International

My bed of roses

2010-06-17T23:10:00.001+05:30

Past few months have been quite uneventful which includes my lazing over to update this space. I have been fixating myself into deep reading and I have finished over four books in two weeks (a personal record). Other than that I have been working over the still progressing, head spinning, life churning decisions of mine. And here is how a typical thought runs on its own winding over the nerves in my head.

"MBA! Time for me to do a PG." (Yaaawn).

"But which college do I choose? Screw those sinister exams. CAT, MAT, RAT, SNAP, CRAP, FMS, JMET, blah, blah, blah! Hmmmmmmmmm."

"Wait-a-minute, should I go for this?" (Fingers playing with my hair)

"I should definitely revive my job hunting strategies for now – getting back to books is scary and I want to be done with exams forever! Somebody banish them!"

"But I ain’t gonna go back to those scrawny techie jobs; remember you swore it to yourself the last time!"

"But then what is the other better option???" (Biting the corners of my mouth)

Imaginations on the roll-day dreaming; whatever it’s called

SNAP! "No seriously! What should I do???"

Now I think of a million ways to escape the next train of thoughts that’s on its way

Nature’s call, gotta run / Raid the fridge / Got to finish this book / Nap time! / Vigorously starts typing texts over the phone / Spiteful urge to irritate someone in the house

Oh yes, and those taunting neighbors and relatives (relatively unknown to me) who can’t just wait to get me married off.

I would say, “You people ain’t getting rid off me that quick.”

They would flabbergast, “OMG!!! You do have someone in your life, don’t you? Do your parents know? Who is the guy? What about religion and caste? OMGGGGG!!!! ”

They never fail to render me speechless.

I would shoot back, “Now when did I say that?????”

They would then begin with their mantras on life (in Lola Kutty style) “All girls are like that now. They introduce and decide everything on their own caring the least of what parents think. We know you are not like that but you shouldn’t keep your parents waiting. Now be a good girl and no fooling around. We will help you find some good desi boys who can fly you to I-Am-Erica. We just want to see you happily married off before we go to our graves.”

I would think “Why don’t I just dig them up for you myself right now!” “#!/= @&^?%*!$~#”

I smile back at them politely like a doll wishing I could say a lot more but sadly goes unsaid.

2 decades and 4 years

2010-06-01T10:13:00.002+05:30

Date: June 1^st, 1986

Time: 1:00 am

The day when the world celebrates the international children’s day was a perfect opening to my arrival. Mom says that I was of no trouble at all and that she actually enjoyed her time at the hospital munching on jell-o, yogurt and chicken.

Date: June 1st, 2010

Time: 10:15 am

Here I am today making a soft and quite landing on 24. There goes another year of my life. Yes, I am getting old. Can’t help sighing over how quick the years roll by with the wink of an eye. I wonder if I am ‘old enough’ to start scanning my face for wrinkles or worry over when that nasty grey is going to sprout over some unknown corner of my head or if I should get my memories regularly checked, in case they are beginning to fade. Okay! I am going overboard but the fact is it gets quite uneasy going through this day as the years go by. Getting old sucks and I find solace in scourging adulthood on the heaping responsibilities that fall upon endlessly (sometimes out of nowhere) making life stagnant, timeless and ‘un-awesome’. I love the independence and so cherish for more but running the errands are tough. I don’t deny that being an adult is fun but it gradually wears out with age and finally one decides to ‘settle down somewhere with that someone’ and then the routine starts running on its own as though time has jinxed itself. Baah!

Just a funny memory made me smile right now. I was at kindergarten and it was my birthday; the only day I wouldn’t have to wear those pinafores. So, I got chocolates for everyone and as per tradition, had to stand up front listening to friends sing to me. I remember going through the dilemma (yes, at such young age) if I should sing along with them. It was my first time under the spotlight and I couldn't remember other kids singing on their D-days since I had my eyes locked on their chocolate boxes and lips desperately trying to sync in with the others. Eventually I made up my mind and started to sing! Funny part is no body found it odd. Thank God those kids weren’t so bright then unlike now.

Anyway it’s been two decades and four years here. Truly a pleasure in a million ways. It’s Happy Birthday to me! “Wink!”

The Buck Stops Here

2010-04-23T12:43:00.002+05:30

The sad state of affairs with the IPL was something that was expected to happen sooner or later. Any person would ponder to look on to the other side of entertainment and realize the huge amounts of bucks flying around when our own governments are going nuts on how to shelf down the food prices. Not only has there been a betrayal of public trust but also how corruption was written all over and no one recognized those signs.

Enough has been said on the IPL issue but take a step back and look onto some of its positive side, something which I happen to read lately. Last year’s IPL in South Africa gave in a huge boost to its economy during the bad times along with the good work of promoting the country’s tourism and infrastructure. Schools in each of the host cities where given scholarships and other opportunities which uplifted and brought back lost hopes to the students. The games then were a fine example of entertainment through cricket and community recognition as a social cause.

Unsurprisingly when IPL came to India, none of this even happened. Because everything here has to be tagged in with glamour, Bollywood, parties, ego clashes, cheer girls and Page3. Oh! And yes the big bucks on the roll. Cricket is no more a game. It’s another one of those emerging businesses where you embroil to make ‘easy money’.

Source: The Hindu

Bachao!

2010-04-16T21:00:00.003+05:30

Yes, that is what I would scream out when a movie turns out so sour that I end up strangling myself for watching it. This is usually what I would do in general but if it’s an exclusive ‘treat’ from bollywood, then it gets uglier. I’ve been watching bollywood grow (or degrade) through the years since the day I have learnt to understand the language. In the late 80’s and early 90’s, the movies were so caught up in unraveling the twists and turns in the very popular and monotonous theme of ROMANCE, either woven out by a cheesy writer or partially or completely borrowed from the other film fraternities.

Every movie had an incredibly audacious hero by the names Raj/Rohit/Aman/Rahul/Vijay (sometimes with a sidekick called Mitto or Bittu or Chintu) who had fallen in love with the gracious Pooja/Tina/Priya/Sapna, with one of them from a super rich clan and the other clamped in poverty. The plot usually works out on how the couple fights on tirelessly till the end against the tyrants with wild names like Rocky/Tiger/Vicky/Robert and with the inclusion of the infamous dialogue from the lead female “Mujhe Bacha Lo!” every time the villains eye her. Oh and how could I go past without a mention on the sizzling songs where the lovebirds run around (yet managing to get the music notes a 10 on 10) with a 100 or something dancers out of nowhere amidst the rain, snow and the ‘holy smoke’.

Ok, I quit with the mockery but I simply cannot help it. Today bollywood in its utmost glorified version has a mass appeal all over and I wonder what has happened to the world. Movies that kill me are the ones with huge numbers rolling by their side and the ones that I get impressed with turn out to be among the lowest of the lowest in the box office. Inspite of being a part of today’s Gen-X, I find appeal in watching the wonders of Nasseruddin Shah and Om Puri and off late Paresh Rawal. Why are filmmakers so hesitant to portray the messages that are important in the real world? And why do actors go on signing such blunt movies that makes you want to throw a brick at them? Movies like Parzania, A Wednesday, Road to Sangam make it to the limelight once in a blue moon and yet are over shadowed by the supercilious and glamour-obsessed film industry and its audiences.

Bride at 9, divorcee at 10

2010-04-02T00:08:00.003+05:30

That is the title that caught my attention from an edition of The Times of India. Out of curiosity, I checked out the article. What I read after that was shocking and sick to the core. The story of Nujood Ali strangely resembles the Khaled Hosseini fiction: A Thousand Splendid Suns. I couldn’t help but write something about the ordeal that left the 12 year old Yemeni rot for over a year.

Nujood Ali, a regular school going girl from Yemen, who loved math and Quran classes, was forced into marriage at the age of 9 to a man old enough to be her father. She was raped on the first night of her wedding and regularly abused by her in-laws and so called husband, until she ran away two months after the wedding. With the help of a relative, she filed for divorce and was granted freedom later in the year becoming the youngest bride to legally end her marriage. With that she made headlines all over the world and was declared ‘Women of the Year’ in 2008 alongside Hillary Clinton and Nicole Kidman by Glamour magazine.

Today her story is being told through her memoir "I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced " composed by a French journalist and is appearing in about 19 languages world over. She and her sister are attending a private school at her hometown with the funds she received from her book. She says with a smile, "All I want now is to finish my education. I want to be a lawyer."

I simply couldn’t stop imagining her plight and how disgusting and insane people can get. It’s great to know how successfully she fought her way out through the agony but it’s heartbreaking to realize the pain in her at the time when she should have played with her dolls.

We all have been truly blessed with a roof above our heads and satisfied with our never ending desires to carve out our lives better than the others. One thought of what girls like Nujood go through, is enough to make our stomachs turn over.

http://www.glamour.com/women-of-the-year/2008/nujood-ali-and-shada-nasser

The Unexpected!

2010-03-21T23:34:00.005+05:30

Believe it or not! I have been awarded with the beautiful blogger award! Yaayy! It finally feels great to be recognized for what you write rather than estimating one’s blog by the number of visitors dropping down for a peep.

Anyways, I have been awarded by my little friend Magali @ Life etc. Thanks a lot! XOXO!

There are a few rules for the award, some of which I thought were absurd. I will just put up what is necessary.

1. Share 7 things about yourself.

2. Pass on the awards to 6-7 different bloggers who you think are the best.

It's as simple as that. So let me kickoff with my 7 "characteristic features".

1.Born and breed for more than half of my life in the tiniest pearl island - Bahrain. Proud to be part of two unique countries.

2. I dream on opening up my own book store when I get really old. Books on everything you could possibly imagine. I even have ideas on having small reading sessions for kiddies (inspired from 'You've Got Mail'). Reading makes up most of my life and is absolutely necessary for my survival.

3.I used to be a super nerd back in school with real geeky glasses. But I guess I straightened out alright in the end. I used to be the typical teenager with pimples, mouth full of braces, long stubborn hair and yes my dorky glasses.

4. I have to spend at least an hour everyday on my own. Maybe to reflect on varied ideas, think of how or where I will end up in 10 years or just sit there staring into the green and play with my hair with music.

5. Close friends say that I am a lot sweeter than required and that people get an incredible urge to take advantage of this. It’s true to an extend but the fact is I ain’t that meek people!

6. As a kid I have had a blend of transitions of what I would want to become when I grow up. Starting from being an astronaut, archeologist, painter (inspired by my mom), news reader cum reporter, author of a thriller (always been a dream), designer, social worker, a kindergarten teacher, editor and lately the bookstore dream.

7. I am an engineer by profession but it was never my cup of tea. I quit two jobs in a year and I am still in search of what I want.

So this is what I have got. And as per the tradition, I would like to present the awards to:

Anirban @ It's a Miracle!

Anand Nair @ Like a Fish in the Net

Dave Fry @ Dave Fry's Picture of The Day

Magali Vaz @ Life etc

Prerna Malik @ The Mom Writes

Sachith Rajagopal @ Perception

A Tribute

2010-02-18T01:01:00.003+05:30

This is a tribute to a magazine that made up most of my childhood and teen years. “YOUNG TIMES – CELEBRATING THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH” by Khaleej Times. I still remember when my dad got me the magazine way back in 1995 and from then on I simply fell in love with it. I waited for every Tuesday evening after dad got back from work to grab on to my favourite comic strips (which included Marvin, Blondie, Hi and Lois, Archie, Hagar, Beetle Bailey and a bunch of others), those short fiction columns, awesome posters, classic cover stories, Sanjeev Kappor (of the Khana Khazana fame) columns, word puzzles, Stampaid by Uncle Malik, music countdowns and what not! Call me childish, but I would always make sure I wouldn’t end up reading everything in a single day and would carry on till Monday evening and get ready for Tuesday. Oh those days bring in such warm memories and truly wish I could go back in time.

This time when I got back to Bahrain, I must have gone to every single store in the island in search of the magazine, though in vain. I thought they must have stopped their sale in the country but ultimately a few day back I heard (via facebook) they halted the publication altogether which is why I was prompted to write something about this incredible journal which I am sure has been cherished by millions of children for the past 25 years or so.

After a dig into my old treasures, I caught hold of a few old copies dating back to 1999. These are a few snaps. (Apologies for the terrible flaw in my shots)

Cinesphere

2010-02-11T12:59:00.004+05:30

With a lot of time on my hands these days, I decided to check on some of the movies of 2009 that I had missed out on. So in the span of 3 weeks, I checked out on a lot of different ones, some absolutely appealing, some dull and the rest, well, I didn’t bother to watch after the initial 5 minutes. Of the whole bunch, there were three movies; The Blind Side, Julie and Julia and An Education; that I thought were remarkable in every sense. Interestingly all three are stories of real people and has the protagonist as a woman with each one scoring an academy award nomination. These characters have again, like their predecessors showcased how soaring woman can get to change perhaps one life and how their words can take you an extra mile. Amazing isn’t, how movies open you to these ‘global women’, whom perhaps you have never heard of until you’ve watched their true lives unfold through cinema, and end up googling or reading their blogs to sense their moments of life.

I can’t help jotting down a word of criticism regarding our Indian cinema. Aren’t we done romancing with the age old fairy tales? Where are the stories of those survivors who have walked out of the flames and have enriched their lives for others to awe upon? Other than for the somber Madhur Bhandakar movies, the year-end Aamir Khan splendors and works of a few other gifted filmmakers, we have a long way to dig out those special tales of special people.

Another Jago India post. Hmmmm....

2010-02-04T18:25:00.002+05:30

I was wondering whether to actually write a post on the ongoing “Mumbai is mine! No, Mumbai is ours!” issue. But then I have written enough about the pathetic state of our country and I am done. I have stopped believing in the democratic policies of this country and my hatred for Indian politics has reached a new height. Mr. SRK, I hope you don’t falter on your stance like the others in the past. Of all the movies that you have done, this is THE showdown that has made me one among your million fans.

Modern day nomad

2010-01-23T22:59:00.007+05:30

I have gotten lost with time and travels for the past one year and two plus months. Today as I sit to write this piece of thought my mind wanders over everything that has happened till date. This has made me believe in destiny. I was/am destined to be what I am today.

As a newbie to the great city last year, I had no clue as to what was coming. All I had was a nervous heart and a bag full of dreams. I had not felt so light since my days in Bahrain. The city lifted me to a new dimension, created new hopes and I got days that I would never forget. Work was crazy but who cared. As long as the paychecks were fat and on time, nothing mattered. There were days when I used to catch the late evening bus, sit by the window with the wind on my face and wonder what more I could ask for in life. I loved everything around me (except work) and I loved the people who cared for me. My friends were great especially my roomie. If not for them, nothing would have gotten so perfect like the way it was. We would enter our room everyday with huge shopping bags and later at night laugh out on our stupidity and gossip out like crazy. Other than for the occasional bouts of homesickness, we were living life to the full, sharing every moment with laughs, tears, late night food poisoning, rat hunts and everything possible.

Three months went off like a flash. And then again I was off to another new city. Just that this time I didn’t feel so ecstatic. The place was familiar and so were the people. But yet there was something odd that I realize now. The people I met were so fresh and extremely cordial. I hadn’t come across such people for ages. I had stopped thinking that such people existed anymore. Every morning they all had a great eye-blinding smile to offer, great attitude and every ready to be at your service. It was as if the world was again a better place to live in. I loved taking long walks sometimes alone and sometimes with friends among the busy streets. The city was as good as the previous one in its vibrancy. There was an added advantage; I stayed right opposite to the big political HQ. The live violence, protests and strict policing wasn’t a very pretty sight but this was reality. The people who we usually see on our television were regulars on the streets. One thing that troubled me every weekend were the bus rides that I had to take back home. Nothing better than this would give you a stiff neck and a creaking back for a whole day.

Months again flew by and one fine day I was back to the place I always wanted to be in. You always know what you want the most. And to be here was mine. The feeling to be about ten years younger and carefree is awesome. I belonged there and to me, this was the best place in the whole world. The camera kept clicking in my hands every second. I didn’t want to miss anything. Life was perfect for the third time in a year at a different place and yet again I was left thinking what more I could ask for.

And again I after a few weeks I was back to the city where everything started out. The feeling to be back was great and to be with the people who meant so much to me was the cherry topping in my life.

And I am back after my nomadic days, looking out for another chance to crave out perfection in my life. Every place I visited has brought out a new shine inside me. Everything that has happened at each place was a path that led me to the new one. Life straightens out on its own as it is destined to be.
A new year has come and I hope someone who knows me would truly tell that I have become a little mature and a little of a better person. Don’t get me wrong. I am not asking for compliments. Critics are invited. More than that, I hope I have brought only smiles to everyone I have come across. So people go have a great year!

A few things that have left me thinking for a while

2009-03-06T16:00:00.005+05:30

Why haven't I posted something in a long time? I almost forgot that I own a blog!

Babies are the best in the whole world. And to grow up with one at 22, is even better. Try to make them smile by screwing up your face or by singing lullabies (its tough to get the pitch right!) and the minute they sprout up that cheesy grin, oh boy, that itself can make your day shine as bright as ever.

Waiting for something, that you so eagerly expect to happen, is a pain in the neck. But it sure does make life a lot interesting with all that hope and positive energy building up in you.

If 'Slumdog Millionaire' was such a phenomenon, what on earth happened to a movie like 'Traffic Signal'?

Somebody once told me (or did I read it somewhere?) that luck is the sum of opportunity and preparation. I believe luck just pops out of the blue when you least expect it. Its a luck to get lucky!

Not an avid follower of politics myself, but its a hats off to the UPA government. If not for them, this place would have fallen like a pack of cards ages ago. While recession takes its toll, its only in India where you can still find a job for yourself (sort of an irony in my case).

Finally for the time being, ladies and gentlemen, I am a certified engineer. Whoohooo! An engineer with a pretty job offer in hand but is still unemployed.
Now who on earth thought that recession would pop out of nowhere in the exact year when I had to graduate. Is that destiny or the game of toss called......LIFE? Hmmmmmmm...

Confessions Part-I

2008-10-10T22:07:00.004+05:30

This post is an insight of what has been wriggling inside my tiny head for almost half a year. I’m tired of waiting for a miracle to hit me. But there always this ray of hope that you want to cling on to, which makes things turn in your tummy. This is the truth about life.

College; somewhere I dread going to even till the last few months. I swore to my friends I wouldn’t miss this place at any cost for the fact that it had made my life weirder than ever. Even while performing these acts, I knew I would eventually be wrong. The reason and perhaps the secret was that, I kept going back to the same place everyday for four years ‘coz of a few irreplaceable people without whom I couldn’t get my day worked out. I required regular doses of their laughter, smiles, tears, rebukes, kicks, pokes, hugs, advices, winks, pull/slap on my cheeks to get me going; I got addicted unknowingly.

Today I’m left with an immense desire to go back to the old days, to be with those people, and have those quality times which I denied I wouldn’t miss. Life has been a living hell now without all the fun I’ve had. There have been occasions when I’ve returned back to college and had strolls around the corridors and classes that once belonged to us. Although, I saw new faces and couples at each corner, my mind went racing through the maze of old pictures of myself in their place.
Memories and thoughts pass by my eyes everyday. I look upon to a miracle to return those moments and people who touched and changed my life forever.

WINCARNIS TONIC WINES

2008-07-26T20:28:00.005+05:30

My all time favorite wine to date. It is red wine made of grape juice, malt extracts, herbs and spices along with a small amount of alcohol. A small drink after dinner every night helps in digestion and a good sleep. Here is more of its priceless value that I dug up:

• Strengthens the immune system, restores health after sickness, improves blood circulation and rejuvenates skin and complexion.
• Contains energy-giving vitamin B complex.
• Calms the nerves down.

Try this wine or the Wincarnis Ginger wine with ice and enjoy.

Art of Wine Tasting

2008-07-26T11:53:00.009+05:30

Tips before drinking your glass of wine

• Pour a little of the wine into your wine glass. The rim of the glass should be bend inwards.

• Notice the colour of the wine by holding the glass up to light or against a white napkin. This is to ensure that the wine is fresh. White wine generally gain colour or turn cloudy as they age. Red wine tends to show a hint of brownness around the rim.

• Next swirl the wine in circular motion a couple of times by holding the stem of the glass to aerate the wine vapors for you to smell.

• Then put your nose to the rim of the glass and breathe in. Strong aromatic flavors with hints of vanilla, peaches, and berries will fill you. The smell of wine is more important than its taste.

• Now take a sip (not a gulp) and fill your mouth slightly through halfway. Before you swallow, let the wine slide across your tongue and feel all the sensations. You can recognize how sweet the wine is or how acidic it is or how strong the alcohol content is.

• Finally swallow the sip of wine and enjoy the lingering taste and pleasure. Happy drinking!

SINGHS ARE KINNGS!!!

2008-07-24T20:11:00.009+05:30

For the bollywood die-hard fans, this title may be quite familiar and personally I think its going to be another Askshy-Katerina blockbuster with a really lame and pathetic script. Surprisingly and fortunately, this movie comes along exactly when our country’s most prestigious politicians have a reason to smile. Oh yeah! I am talking about the two Singhs of India – brave, fearless and yet two-faced - AMAR and MANMOHAN dadas! And as per tradition that no movie (at least in bollywood) is made without a lead female, we have one here too, none other than from ‘the first family of India’ – SONIAji. Sigh!

With a craze for petite things like super cars and gold plated Rolex watches, Amar Singh has the UPA as a new entity to his list of ‘rich best friends’ the rest being the glamour honored Bachchans and Ambanis. A peep back into his history, it was this tiny man who influenced Mulayam Singh Yadav to kill Sonia’s prime ministerial dream years ago. Thumbs-up man!

As for Manmohan Singh, who has been mauled over enough, is a meek puppet playing along well to the music. And it surprises me that he still holds the chair of PM. And bravely he fought all the odds (with a big push from the strings attached) and came out smiling at the end of the day. It is a weird feeling of pity that falls over me when I see him on television. God Bless him!

The week kicked off big time with a thrilling and spiteful ‘thamasha’ live from within the Lok Sabha and I truly enjoyed watching the showbiz whenever I could. From the high-impact speech by Omar Abdullah, romantic filmy dialogues and comical talk by Lalu Prasad Yadav (as expected), tongue-in-cheek extempore from Rahul Gandhi, the raw and power packed dialogues by PM (surprise!), to the melodrama of greed and prestige in digging up a bag full of hot cash; it was a joy to watch these people desperately struggle, fight and beg to make their points heard. I bet they have never worked this hard to date.

CHOCOLATE CAKE

2008-07-23T17:49:00.009+05:30

Flour---------- ----------1cup
Sugar--------------------3/4cup
Curd---------------------1/2cup
Butter-------------------1/2cup
Baking Powder--------1tsp
Soda Bi-Carbonate---1/4tsp
Milk----------------------4-5tbsp
Coco powder----------3tbsp

Mix the flour, coco powder, soda bi-carbonate and baking powder.

Beat curd, butter and sugar till fluffy and creamy.

Mix the above two mixtures along with milk and mash well with hands.

Pour the mix into the oven tray and microwave for 20-25 minutes at 160 power. (Time depends on the quantity you make)

Cool and serve.

APPLE JAM

2008-07-23T17:46:00.007+05:30

1 cup peeled and finally chopped apples
A cup sugar
2tbsp lemon juice

Mix sugar & apples and heat for about 5 minutes.
Blend the softened mixture in a blender.
Again heat the blended mix for 7-8 minutes. Stir in between.
Add lemon juice and let it cool.

CHOCOLATE SAUCE

2008-07-23T17:38:00.013+05:30

Cocoa powder------3tbsp
Sugar----------------1/2cup
Corn flour----------3tsp
Water---------------1/2cup
Butter---------------2tbsp
Vanilla Essence----2-3drops

Mix all the dry ingredients along with water and mix thoroughly.
Heat the mix and stir for 2-3 minutes.
Add butter, stir and blend thoroughly.
Finally add vanilla essence and mix. Cool and serve with cakes or ice creams.

SPIRIT OF INDIA-2

2008-07-10T13:47:00.017+05:30

This is my 2^nd version of the post ‘Spirit of India’. I had made a reference then that I was inspired and stimulated by articles that I read through from a monthly magazine. So for those who haven’t read it, here are a few people who are the true pioneers of change.

Deepak Kumar, Bihar

A murder convict who served 14 years in prison came back to his village to provide help for the deprived children through setting up a school. Initially, the post-graduate was rejected by the villagers and his requests for loans were cancelled due his iniquitous past. But within five months, a few of his relatives and friends who had faith in him rose to extend their help and his dream was fulfilled. Today, the English-medium school has up to class 7 with more than 365 students, most of them poor, paying a fee of just Rs 75/month.

Veena Devi, Mukhiya (panchayat chief), Bihar

35-year old Veena serves her 2^nd term as mukhiya in her panchayat situated in rural Bihar. Her mission is to promote women’s empowerment in the caste-polarized and crime-ridden district. Born into a poor family, married at the age of 14, a mother at 15 and a widow at 16, she has seen and gone through the hardships of rural Bihar. She realized she had to prevent the trauma from passing on to next generation only through fearless commitment. When she decided to contest for elections in 2000, the men mocked and shunned her away and also had her indicted into a false murder case. Fortunately the cases were proved wrong and the elections turned into her favour. Recently, she had launched a campaign to make widows self-reliant in the village and has been a success to date.

Abhyanand, Additional DGP, Bihar

This IPS officer tutors hundreds of unprivileged young IIT aspirants helping their dreams come true. The programme called Super30 offers free IIT entrance coaching for 30 selected youngsters from unprivileged families in rural Bihar. They are brought to Patna, provided with accommodation, food and exhausting coaching for seven months-all for free. In 2003, the first batch saw 18 out of the 30 enter into the prestigious institution. Each year the numbers increased and in 2007, 28 students had their dreams come true.

N. Krishnan, Founder of Akshaya Trust, Madurai

A catering technology graduate quit his job at a 5-star hotel in Bangalore to serve food to the hungry on the streets of Madurai. What provoked the 27-year old was the sight of an old man on the street eating his own faeces. He took the man to a nearby hotel and bought him food. The man ate and drank without pausing and after finishing he walked away with tears in his eyes. This deeply moved Krishnan and proceeded to set up the Akshaya Trust in six months after quitting his job with his life’s savings. Today, he along with his three friends delivers breakfast, lunch and dinner to around 300 people daily. The funds come in from a few local companies and individuals. Other than feeding the poor, he cuts the hair of the mentally-ill on the streets, which led him to give up being a Brahmin.

What I Want

2008-07-03T15:54:00.011+05:30

For the past two days I have received immense approval for my blog. Thank you to all my friends who have supported me. What started as a ‘let me see what’s so special about writing blogs?’ has turned to my major activity now. You may laugh or think I am silly if I say that these days I even dream about blogs! Honest; it’s not an exaggeration. The true fact is that I want to reach out to people through what I write. 'Chef's corner' is dedicated to my friends working at Amrita Technology. I had guaranteed them I would bring them all that I would cook but that didn’t work out as planned. So I decided to put up the instructions to all the foodies I prepare. Not a great cook myself but I would love them to give a shot themselves.

The post ‘The Spirit of India’ was an aftermath of the articles I read in India Today and also my urge to contribute in a small way to change the mindset of people. A close friend after reading the blog told me that this is what every youth says and nothing will ever change. I do realize it’s so easy to write but tough and perhaps dangerous to bring ourselves to action. But if a magazine or a movie like ‘Rang De Basanti’ could awaken me then so can I rouse my friends who read the post. When you read it, I want you to realize that you are today’s Indian youth and you have the immense power to change and dawn our country to new beginnings. I am not talking about going up to the streets and protesting for a change. If I had to stand on the ‘great well’ near my house and make a speech about change, there’s no doubt I would get tight slaps across my face and maybe pushed into the well. As a matter of fact I myself haven’t got a clue of how to bring about this change. But I did have an idea which wouldn’t work out. I wanted to teach English during these few months at a nearby institute where they teach the language to children as well as adults of the village. I wanted to do this because English is the only strong point I have in spite being an engineering graduate and I felt I could pass on whatever little knowledge I have to these people. But the idea was rejected by my family since they had better hopes from me as an engineer. Typical Indian household scenario. Again I am left helpless but to patiently wait for my time to come.

SPIRIT OF INDIA

2008-07-02T20:13:00.009+05:30

I stumbled upon this month’s issue of India Today. With nothing much to do, I resolved to have a read through it. I was lucky enough to get this copy since it was a special issue voicing the toil of common civilians around our country trying to make a difference. Each individual featured in the magazine had a wonderful story to quote along with their sweet fruits of hard work.
Our country has a long way to go. While some parts have reproduced the western culture aura with a damaging upshot other parts are deep-rooted under the ancient taboos whereas a few others are strangulated in communal violence waving an atmosphere for pessimism and intolerance. I come from a village where people are obdurate to change and reject transformations blindly. I have neighbors who complain their sons haven’t got enough dowry or have people gathering around tiny shops gossiping about the girl who they saw talking with the next door boy. I also have neighbors who consider their women impure and forbid them to daily chores once in every month. During my college days, I had to walk to the junction twice a day to catch a bus where men would stare as though they had never seen a female and had to listen to their nasty comments. And yet all that I could do was to give a callous look and speed away as far as my legs could carry. This is indeed the vibrant taste of India where women are left choice less. I will one day perhaps be a mother and I would want my children to live and be bought up as proud Indians but the truth is that I am hesitant. I am so, because unless people change their mindset and come out to the open to face reality, nothing is going to change.
We are the present youth of our nation and we have the power to change the country more than any government. If this happens, the change along with the impact would be a massive. Earlier the question used to be ‘what can the country do for us?’ but at present age the question should churn as ‘what can we do for our country?’

My 1st ever blog !!!

2008-06-30T19:52:00.008+05:30

Everyone I know kept advising me to write a blog to spent time. I guess it isn’t a harm to try out what it’s all about. At this very moment, I really have no clue as to what I should write about. Maybe I should start off with my experiences that I have had for the past 22 years.
Thanks to my god sent parents, I was brought to this world during an early summer of 1986 on June 1st. Fortunate I was since the day I unbolt my minuscule eyes, to be bought up in a beautiful world where I got more than anyone could ask for. I grew up amidst strong Indian cultures and principles which I’m truly proud of. As for every child, my mother taught me ‘the golden rules’ of how to present myself as a good Indian girl to anyone and everyone. And my father, who I miss a lot, trained me with his strong ethics and morals. I remember my mother trying hard to teach me my mother-tongue whenever she got me in her hands, though she never succeeded to a great extend. My parents were and still are my entire life. Apart from them, years later I was introduced to my elder sister. We were bought up in totally two different dimensions. I guess we got acquainted initially as ‘just friends’ rather than as siblings. I never understood why we were separated. It took us years to recognize each other as bonded-sisters. During most of my upbringing, I usually felt I was my parent’s only child. And as every only child, I used to talk to myself. And that was my ever-favorite hobby and it still is. I used to always think to myself that I would never have a complete family. For 16 years, I was separated from my sister and during the rest of the years when I finally got to live with my sister, my father left for work. It’s sad but I guess that’s just the way life is. As long as we get together once in a year, it’s all right with me.
Like the two sides of a coin and like every other kid, my childhood had bad memories along with the good. More of them are the good stuff, but the bad were the worst I could get. I have learned to put the bad past behind my head but at times when they sneak in back, it stings. Luckily in recent years and hopefully for the rest of my life, I have had people around me with whom I could trust to share my thoughts that twirl inside my head.
My first school is where the very best of my early memories dwell. The 11 glorious years in the beautiful school where I’d learned to acknowledge myself in a range of aspects. The level of exposure and diversity I received developed me enormously. At a young age I was used to converse with people from all over the globe from various ethnicities. And I loved meeting up with new boys and girls my age. I was popular around the school as a great nerd. It was funny people classified me as a nerd only because I had ‘nerdy glasses’. But that never bothered me. I wanted to fetch good grades and amass the opportunities I came across. There were of course the usual kids to push and pull as well as the tight competition with politics to dominate. That didn’t bother me either even in spite of regular speech treatments to be serious from my beloved parents. It’s amazing the kind of push and pressure kids are subjected to by parents which in a way can cause the child to be resilient in their own way. And in turn results in what psychologists call ‘rebellious teenagers’. Anyway coming back to my early school days, I had my personal list of favorite teachers and subjects as every other kid. I clearly remember my first proposal way back in 4th grade which totally freaked me out. From then on I made sure I wouldn’t attach tight strings with boys. I guess it was a result from the shock I received. But now thinking of that very day, draws a smile to my face. I smile because of the innocence we were all swathe in. I truly hope that sometime in the near future I could meet up with that guy and perhaps thank him for the soft spot he had for me back then.
One of my best reminiscences was during the weekends, when my parents would take me out to the beach and I was allowed to have as many ice creams I wanted. My parents would chew on pop-corns with me in the middle (sweeping my tongue off the ice creams) and have long strolls on the coastline and later sit by one the benches and watch the tides. Another was the shopping spree at midnight and getting back home in the early mornings with tones of goodies and fresh French croissants. I admit I was pampered a lot by my parents but never spoiled.
Years rolled by, met wonderful boys and girls, build great friendships, got rugged by some, rugged a few myself, when finally it was time to bid adieu to my second home. Time had come for me to go to a new place, a new country. I was unhappy with the decision my parents made. I tired my best to get them out of it and suggested alternative decisions, but in vain. My parents had made their decision without hearing what I wanted. It was decided my father would stay back and me and my mother along with my sister would stay in our big abandoned house in the new country. From this time on, I was made to do things that I never wanted.
I moved to my new place when I was in my sweet sixteen. Wasn’t as sweet as the name goes. I hated the place the moment I came. It was as though the fortress I was incubated in all these years had crashed down. I was expected to adjust and get along with the people and surroundings like every Indian girl should. All the decisions were made and I had to abide by them at any cost. Then a day came when I joined my 2nd school which I would categorize as the 2nd phase of my life. Gladly this period of time passed off with the snap of a finger. I was in the school of two years. And I don’t have a single happy memory to preserve. I didn’t have my personal list of favorite teachers or subjects. Ironically I don’t even know what I did for those two years. I had people around me whom I couldn’t trust and to me their greatest satisfaction was to see other people’s misery. I was blown off by this impudent nature revolving around every person in the new place. Everyday was like a dark cloud that hung over me. I’d an awful lot of experiences in the two years and above all I missed my father and the great life I once had. I had lost my essence of living life.
The two years never meant anything to me. I had made a lot of new friends but a handful turned to be true. I desperately wanted to get out and be the happy girl I was. But once again I was made to stay back, this time for another four years! These four years were the 3rd phase of a new beginning. It was indeed a new fresh start because I was shifting to college and that to me was a big landmark.
My college wasn’t in any sense a college! It was more of a school with really weird rules and bizarre people in white. At the beginning I’d a notion that these four years could be worst than the previous two years. Initially, I was a loner since I turned to be one of the very few day scholars. I hated the place and used to run back home whenever I could. Another reason was that my father got home and I wanted to spend more time with him than with a bunch of strangers who never seemed to notice me. Though things weren’t good at college, I was hardly bothered since my father was finally home with us. For a very brief time, I had my complete family. I knew I was waiting for this moment for a long time. I felt so protected and thankful to god for his mercy.
Few months later my father left back for work and I was left raw to be unnoticed in college. I attained a couple of good friends by then but my desire to bump into new people went missing. I knew I’d changed and didn’t know who to blame. The first year in college was my roughest one. I got to meet new people through the few friends I knew and hence the chain grew. Things started to change when everyone slowly acknowledged me or at least my name. I was feeling better and soon had the urge to change back to who I once was. Things definitely headed for the best and I could see myself in smiles all the time. And by then I had become proficient in judging a person within a few seconds of conversation. I believe that quality helped me handle a person with ease.
The four years went off in a flash leaving behind a trail of beautiful memoirs. It’s beautiful since I found myself enjoying life after a brief downcast. Although not in complete, I have regained my essence to live with fun and smiles. I have learned and come across many experiences to be the person I am now. I have learned my lessons well and have achieved ‘self-satisfaction’. Though at times life was unfair, I believe everything happens for a reason and one has to receive the challenges with a justified mind. There’s nothing better than living your life to the extreme. I’m very excited and a little nervous to know what life holds for me in the near future but I am totally prepared to accept the dares thrown at me.