Letting go

April 27, 2007 at 6:53 am | Posted in Moods | 2 Comments

Have been thinking and thinking and thinking. Need to let go. Not able to. WANT to. but not able to.

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Mood

April 26, 2007 at 12:23 pm | Posted in Moods | Leave a comment

Anna Karenina

Old gem from the recesses of my mailbox

April 25, 2007 at 9:18 am | Posted in Humour, Poetry | 2 Comments

‘Cinderella’

I guess you think you know this story.
You don’t. The real one’s much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children happy.
Mind you, they got the first bit right,
The bit where, in the dead of night,
The Ugly Sisters, jewels and all,
Departed for the Palace Ball,
While darling little Cinderella
Was locked up in a slimy cellar,
Where rats who wanted things to eat,
Began to nibble at her feet.

She bellowed ‘Help!’ and ‘Let me out!
The Magic Fairy heard her shout.
Appearing in a blaze of light,
She said: ‘My dear, are you all right?’
‘All right?’ cried Cindy .’Can’t you see
‘I feel as rotten as can be!’
She beat her fist against the wall,
And shouted, ‘Get me to the Ball!
‘There is a Disco at the Palace!
‘The rest have gone and 1 am jalous!
‘I want a dress! I want a coach!
‘And earrings and a diamond brooch!
‘And silver slippers, two of those!
‘And lovely nylon panty hose!
‘Done up like that I’ll guarantee
‘The handsome Prince will fall for me!’
The Fairy said, ‘Hang on a tick.’
She gave her wand a mighty flick
And quickly, in no time at all,
Cindy was at the Palace Ball!

It made the Ugly Sisters wince
To see her dancing with the Prince.
She held him very tight and pressed
herself against his manly chest.
The Prince himself was turned to pulp,
All he could do was gasp and gulp.
Then midnight struck. She shouted,’Heck!
Ive got to run to save my neck!’
The Prince cried, ‘No! Alas! Alack!’
He grabbed her dress to hold her back.
As Cindy shouted, ‘Let me go!’
The dress was ripped from head to toe.

She ran out in her underwear,
And lost one slipper on the stair.
The Prince was on it like a dart,
He pressed it to his pounding heart,
‘The girl this slipper fits,’ he cried,
‘Tomorrow morn shall be my bride!
I’ll visit every house in town
‘Until I’ve tracked the maiden down!’
Then rather carelessly, I fear,
He placed it on a crate of beer.

At once, one of the Ugly Sisters,
(The one whose face was blotched with blisters)
Sneaked up and grabbed the dainty shoe,
And quickly flushed it down the loo.
Then in its place she calmly put
The slipper from her own left foot.
Ah ha, you see, the plot grows thicker,
And Cindy’s luck starts looking sicker.

Next day, the Prince went charging down
To knock on all the doors in town.
In every house, the tension grew.
Who was the owner of the shoe?
The shoe was long and very wide.
(A normal foot got lost inside.)
Also it smelled a wee bit icky.
(The owner’s feet were hot and sticky.)
Thousands of eager people came
To try it on, but all in vain.
Now came the Ugly Sisters’ go.
One tried it on. The Prince screamed, ‘No!’
But she screamed, ‘Yes! It fits! Whoopee!
‘So now you’ve got to marry me!’
The Prince went white from ear to ear.
He muttered, ‘Let me out of here.’
‘Oh no you don’t! You made a vow!
‘There’s no way you can back out now!’
‘Off with her head!’The Prince roared back.
They chopped it off with one big whack.
This pleased the Prince. He smiled and said,
‘She’s prettier without her head.’
Then up came Sister Number Two,
Who yelled, ‘Now I will try the shoe!’
‘Try this instead!’ the Prince yelled back.
He swung his trusty sword and smack
Her head went crashing to the ground.
It bounced a bit and rolled around.
In the kitchen, peeling spuds,
Cinderella heard the thuds
Of bouncing heads upon the floor,
And poked her own head round the door.
‘What’s all the racket? ‘Cindy cried.
‘Mind your own bizz,’ the Prince replied.
Poor Cindy’s heart was torn to shreds.
My Prince! she thought. He chops off heads!
How could I marry anyone
Who does that sort of thing for fun?

The Prince cried, ‘Who’s this dirty slut?
‘Off with her nut! Off with her nut!’
Just then, all in a blaze of light,
The Magic Fairy hove in sight,
Her Magic Wand went swoosh and swish!
‘Cindy! ‘she cried, ‘come make a wish!
‘Wish anything and have no doubt
‘That I will make it come about!’
Cindy answered, ‘Oh kind Fairy,
‘This time I shall be more wary.
‘No more Princes, no more money.
‘I have had my taste of honey.
I’m wishing for a decent man.
‘They’re hard to find. D’you think you can?’
Within a minute, Cinderella
Was married to a lovely feller,
A simple jam maker by trade,
Who sold good home-made marmalade.
Their house was filled with smiles and laughter
And they were happy ever after.

      — Roald Dahl

Amazing how you can get into victim mode

April 17, 2007 at 5:17 am | Posted in crap, life | 3 Comments

When you are the one doing the victimizing.

http://www.telegraphindia.com/1070331/asp/nation/story_7588709.asp

“I don’t mind competing in CAT (Common Admission Test) with general category students. The problem arises at the interview stage.
“We (OBC students) can’t speak chaste English like many of the general category students. That’s why the quota was so important for us,” said Rajesh

Poor baby. He doesnt mind competing CAT in the general category. How generous of him.

For jerks like Rajesh here, do you know how long I prepared for CAT? THREE FUCKING LONG YEARS. For three years, I constantly watched my grammar. I constantly looked up my diction. I consciously managed the way I spoke. And I did not get through at IIM A. I got an interview call, and failed the interview. You f***** jerk! What ever makes you think you are more entitled to get in that I am, just because I was born a “brahmin”?

And incidentally, just for the record, the board at the the IIMs wont fail you just because of poor english. If you want ot succeed, succeed on accountof hard work. Short cuts in life dont work. They mess up the system for ALL of us.

Thank you Karan Johar

April 16, 2007 at 9:19 am | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I have limited time at my disposal, especially in the evenings. Sanj goes to the land of nod around 11:00 PM, just intime for me to miss Koffee with Karan. Of late I had been cheating on my resolution to read to Sanj, esp on Fridays, preferring instead, to catch KWK. Which is why Karan Johar has probably, in his inestimable wisdom, made the show SO BAD this season.I caught about 3 episodes, I think – Sanjay Dutt, Konkona Sen, andanother which I dont remember. And oh God, are they borng . So politically correct. So diplomatic. So, oh so niiicceee. But one line by konkona sen stood out- when asked about her lovelife, she said “No, I am not going to tell you. What is this, you create some warm atmosphere and get all info from us or what? No”. Felt like standing and cheering!

When I feel vindicated abt what I do as a parent – II

April 16, 2007 at 8:52 am | Posted in Sanjana | Leave a comment

I was quite proud of myself, they way I started teaching Sanj Counting, and the difference between left and right. Yes, Its my trumpet, and so I shall blow! 🙂

Sanj already got the hang of one-two-three, but not of counting per se. I started saying, “How many hands does Sanju have?”- one hand, two hands, and so on for eyes, feet mouth and nose. But what really took me by surprise was when the shopgirl at the nearby clothes shop took sanj out and came back,telling me excitedly, “madam, she is counting”. Apparently Sanj went one dog, two dog and so on. This was last night.

This mornng, I dumped the shapes board (The one with all those shapes and the pegs that fit into each of them) in fronjt of her- and she got them right in no time!

For left and right- the credit goes to trust Dr Seuss. I bought “The Foot Book” from one of those second hand places in mount road. Sanj is particularly excited by “Feet Feet Feet – How Many Many feet you meet!”. She manages to point to her left and right feet when asked – not sure whether its conscious, though. It could well be like the time she learned to say cow. I was trying to wean her away from “Horse”, teaching her “Cow”. I got terribly excited until I caught her calling everything fromm the mail box on the front gate to the water in her sipper “Cow”. And nothing else.

My next target is colors. Time for Landmark!! 🙂

Tugging at the heart strings – Part II

April 16, 2007 at 8:48 am | Posted in Sanjana | Leave a comment

I snuggle up next to a sleeping sanj- who, disturbed, puts her hands out trying to reach (I hope!) me. She encounters my face, and immediately settles down. Runs her hands over my face, and gives me a kiss while asleep.

Two Articles, one wondering reader

April 12, 2007 at 5:37 am | Posted in crap, media, News | Leave a comment

Article 1 – Aishwarya Rai’s New Home (or is it?)

Rediff sets the standards (Along with mid-day) for crappy journalism- and this is a prime example of that. The only thing lacking here is the terrible english. That would have rounded it off nicely. WTH is the “journalist” trying to say here?
First off, I don’t care where Aishwarya Rai is going to be living (I do care about ensuring I never have to see any of her interviews on TV). But I will be generous to people who probably want to, though I can’t for hte life of me, figure out why. What really gets my goat is- what exactly is the point here? I went to Bandra hoping to catch a glimpse of Rai’s new home, but turns out it wasnt Rai’s. But I have a deadline- what do I do…

The article would have been more suitably titled “Description of a useless junket to follow up a lead that turned cold and consequent junk to fill up a news article deadline”. Or more simply – “Timesheet for the day”.

Article 2 – A nice nugget from Amit Verma
My thoughts exactly. But so succinctly put!
And the esteemed Pt. Nehru has left us another ever-lasting legacy which Verma has missed – The Kashmir Crisis. The story might be apocryphal (I doubt it though- have read it in a newspapaer,shd find some links on that)- but our man Nehru called for a ceasefire when India was on the verge of throwing Pakistan from Kashmir. This shd probably sum Nehru up- Idealistic and Idiotic.

Tugging at the heart strings

April 4, 2007 at 12:13 pm | Posted in anniversary, Sanjana | 7 Comments

Showing Sanj the horse that sits atop the TV and asking her to identify eyes, ears, legs and so forth. Inspiration strikes and I ask her- “Whither Hands?”. Kodak moment – Sanj investigating the horse trying to find the hands. True investigation, because she grabs the horse with her right hand and turns it all over, trying to locate the hands.

Incidentally, this is my first post after I turned 28 (boo hoo), which means… absolutely nothing, actually. There has been a gradual decline of “birthday feeling” – the excitement that used to come with every birthday. This is the first year it has been at an absolute nil. no feeling, nothing. na da. And this is the reason Unni is still alive. He forgot my birthday inspite of my having reminded him about it earlier this week.

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