Now here's the deal. I was so so sure that I would not complain or rant for a while to average out the whiney undertone of the blog. And I intended to pretty much do just that. Nah-nah. You can't deny that really. So much so, that just when I am being all nice and positive and chirpy and downright cheerful, life decided to push me to the edge by giving me ridiculously bugging days at work. So bugging, they actually start getting more amusing than bugging and then in a while we forget that this has been a bugging day afterall. And even though we start at 7 in the morning for work, and it is like 8 in the night right now, and we are still at work, and we are still not sure when we would leave, and more importantly why we are still here, it still feels more funny than bugging. Heh, such happiness I have to say. But not good really, because the usual angry me somehow feels a little more accomplished at the end of it all. Relieved, after losing it more than once in front of more than a few important work people. Harmful, but very stress busting type activity that is. But now, when we are allowed to be rantier, unhappier, all we are doing is typing this highly incoherent blog, and venting out the frustration, by, guess what, putting up abusive status message on google. No-no, not random abuses, but more specific, changing the receiver with situational changes during the day. But in reality, we think that is a mega-loser thing to do. When really, we should be huffing and puffing (and blowing the house down), and stomping around, and passing random comments about buggers inc. to anyone who cares to hear, and increasing the volume when a member of buggers inc. is in audible distance, we are putting status messages. So. not. Ok.

On a not so different note, Excel is a weird invention. We share a typical love-hate relationship with it. Now on days, we look at all the things this sheet with rows and columns can do, and ooh and aah about how awesome all this automation is, and how did people survive without this before Bill Gates existed and all that. And on the next day, when we are hard-pressed for time, and running out of the small stock of patience we usually carry around, it acts totally weird. It will give random error messages, which you would need to google, search solutions for, fix, only to end up with another such message, only a different one this time. That's enough for us to hate it with all our heart, only the next week, when there is less work and more time, and we find out yet another awesome formula, we start liking it again. And yes ofcourse, Excel definitely features as the non-human member of Buggers Inc. Why would we bring it up otherwise.

Before I forget, a (relatively) short note on the much appreciated learnings imbibed in the recent past!

- You can have marathons of sitcoms other than F.R.I.E.N.D.S. The mantra is - STOP COMPARING. A season and a half of 'How I met your mother' down in 2 weekends, definitely classifies it as impressive.

- If you find Barney Stinson's crude humour more entertaining than the Ted- Robin romance, it doesn't necessarily mean you're turning into a guy. If you are really worried, all you've got to do is go watch Grey's anatomy. Makes you all sentimental and mushy? See, you're back on track!

- You can get emotionally involved in a cricket match. The fact that you were frowning all through dinner yesterday, at the place which serves your favoritest dessert ever (Chocolate Bomb at Little Italy, if you haven't tried it yet, well, God save you), just because Deccan Chargers lost to Kings XI Punjab, pretty much justifies your Dad knocking the sofa's arm off when Kapil Dev's wicket was taken in some random match during World Cup '83.

- There is nothing like too much chocolate. There is nothing such as I-dislike-x-chocolate either. But there is something like I-like-x-chocolate-better-than-y-chocolate. What else explains the Diary Milk lying the refrigerator for more than a week, just because there is so much of Dark chocolate to binge upon?

- The irritating fight between the multiplex guys and the movie makers, which has ensured no new movie or music releases these days, is actually good in a way, because it makes you revisit all the songs you used to like wonsaponatime and have totally forgotten now. Awesome they are, you realise.

- While grocery shopping at your favorite super market, try and check beforehand if the card machine is working. There are actually chances that you pick stuff for like two hours, and then go to the billing counter to be told that they can only accept cash. And you won't have that much cash ever, you being you. So just check next time.

- You will never find the perfect red shoes you have been looking for forever in any of the best shoe stores in the city. And then you will find them in, wait for this, the Bata store near your house! But ofcourse, they wont be available in your size, but that's a different issue altogether.

- You can actually like colors other than blue. At times. Red is, for example, you realise, is a pretty nice color. Ok, definitely not better than blue, but it's pretty damn good.

- Mondays can actually be nice (!!).Not as nice as Fridays, but nice nevertheless. Even if it is a hot summer monday afternoon in Hyderabad, you can actually be happy,  provided the airconditioning in office is working just fine, there is really strong coffee available on demand, and you're allowed to download music. And after a long time, you've all the time in the world to sip this coffee, browse the net, all the while listening to the music you just downloaded.

- And ofcourse, wanting to, and actually being able to post on your blog twice within a week's span feels good. So. Very. Good.

So,

• I saw RNBDJ. And, here is the surprise, I did not hate it. As in, I think I even liked it in some bits (Quit judging me already, will ya?). Point is; I know the basic story doesn’t make much sense. Ok. Fine, it doesn’t make sense at all (yes, I am referring to the girl-cannot-recognize-husband-because-he-shaved-his-moustache-off-and-wore-weird-clothes bit).But there were some nice parts you know, and SRK can act. Especially as the Suri guy. Remember I said that is a big thing? Well, it was. And I am not even an SRK fan. That’s good enough right!
• On another note, I am very very upset with Rehman. Really. Here’s the thing. I have forever gone by the ‘If it’s Rehman, it’s good’ principle. Yeah, that is a principle, I made it. And then, he goes and does this. I mean really! Don’t believe me? Then go listen to this. And when you reach the antarah, try thinking what the chorus sounded like. You won’t be able to, I bet. And Gulzaar Saab. Isn’t he the poetic kinds? What in the world was he thinking when he wrote this song then? Rustam Chustam? Huh? I have a strong suspicion that this infact is a collaborated effort on the duo’s part, to sabotage Subhash Ghai. And actually, I am hoping it’s just that.
• I read Adiga’s book, that Booker prize winning book. I was so worried when I picked it up, because the last time I tried a Booker winning book, it was The God of Small Things, and I did not last beyond 10 pages, and if I remember right, it took me a while to recover from it. So, I was apprehensive, but this one is good, really good. Written well enough to keep you absorbed till then end, and has a social angle to it too. Two things I never thought could end up together. Recommended, give it a try.
• I am now reading The Zoya Factor. And I find it very funny, which is a very good thing. As in, there are these silly one liners which make me crack up all the time. The Dude is so happy. Because he feels that all the books I pick have to be related to oppression, and tragedy, and sadness, and the fight of women against the cruel world types. And when he is able to hear me laugh out loud (I mean really loud, he can hear me over the noise of AOE on the speakers), he thinks it’s good for me in a way.
• Oh, AOE reminds me, the house is so technically advanced now. See, the problem was, my laptop became the house computer once I moved in with The Dude. So it has a variety of soft-wares, music, videos, games etc on it, and it was kind of dying of the overload. Oh come on, it is a poor little 2006 model (which I don’t see in the shops anymore by the way, hmph!) with a 512 MB RAM and an 80 GB Hard disk (and a list of other specifications which I am sure are outdated). So we bought a new House Computer, and this one is fully loaded! And has a 22 inch monitor! Yay! For The Dude actually, because it’s being used for games only so far. But Yay! for me, because the Laptop’s free! Oh, and we wi-fied the home, so, I can be all cool and sit and browse from my balcony! Which by the way I tried but there were too many mosquitoes, so I had to leave, but atleast I have an option!
• And lastly, I actually cooked something other than the regular dal, chawal, sambar, rasam, curry yesterday. Ok, it wasn’t big, but I happened to try and make Egg Curry. Which was good, because it was a change, and it looked just right, and smelt just right, but I wish I could say that about the taste. As in, it was ok, but I, considering my regular smart self, I added 4 times (please to notice, FOUR times) the required amount of garlic ginger paste. Result; in place of egg curry, we now have what we could call – Garlic-Ginger curry, with egg pieces. My creation nevertheless.

The color blue. And not just any shade. Only sky blue. I know, I know, the sky’s blue changes shades all the time. But the one shade I am referring to is the bright light blue, almost like powder blue? The kind of blue the sky used to be in April, after winter is long gone, and summer is yet to set in. No, I won’t say spring and all; India has three seasons only apparently. The blue which is visible from between the very bright white clouds, at around 10 in the morning. Visible from the terrace back home. You had to squint to look at it; the sun would be bright enough to make you. On holidays and Sundays of course; who do you find loitering on the terrace at 10 AM on a school day, tell me?

Beaches, yes. And when I say beaches, I don’t indirectly mean vacation. I just mean beaches. The vast expanse of the sea, which makes you look like a non-entity, humbles you almost, like they say? And waves, the very sound of them. Rhythmic in its own way. Sitting on the sand, guessing how high the next wave would be. Watching small fishing boats far inside the waters. Walking on the sand, letting the waves just about reach your feet. Or letting go altogether, allowing the waves to splash you all over, not minding the sand deposits in the clothes for once.

And Rain. Cloudy weather, cool breeze, the roar of thunder every once in a while. And the constant pitter-patter of rain drops. Watching the rain from the safe confines of your balcony, while sipping hot tea. Or just listening to the sound of rain, while wrapped in cosy blankets, a book in hand. Or getting drenched in it, looking up towards the sky, welcoming each drop of water that splashes on your face.

Paani puri! The exclamation mark is to mark its special importance, even if it figures late here. No limitations on the number consumed. Water, as spicy as it comes. Not a drop of sweet chutney. Preferred filling, surprisingly the Hyderabadi version of boiled chole, the hotter the better. Boiled potato from the back home version is also good; guess the relatively spicier water makes up for it.

Chocolate. So what’s new you may ask. Nothing really. I am as chocoholic as they come. They who? Women in general I hear. Chocolate in all forms. Bars of Toblerone, the amazing Chocolate Bomb from Little Italy, the equally amazing Sizzler Brownie from Bombay Blues, chocolate ice cream, cakes, pastries, brownies. All of it. Any of it.

Cappuccino from Barista. Not much foam, strong, and really hot. One packet of caramelized sugar. Everyday, at around 3 in the afternoon. Between 3 and 4 actually. And in case it is one of the I-am-not-that-fat days, a muffin. Blueberry, for sure.

Oh, and Books. Lot’s of them, colorful, pretty, bright books. Not necessarily only when I am reading them. They can be just there. That’s good enough. Like, book shops? Neatly stacked, rows and rows of band new, shiny books. Reading excerpts, checking out comments, picking and choosing what you finally want. And then piling it on the ever growing stack at home. And thinking which one to go for next. Of course I intend to finish them all. Someday.

Shopping too. Ok, before you roll your eyes and say ‘Women!’, I am not talking clothes, bags, shoes alone. Obviously, those too. But planned shopping in general is what this is about. Even if it is groceries. Yeah, go ahead, laugh. Making a list, driving down, ticking things off the list. And picking things not in the list; can be anything, an extra pair of shoes, or a box of exotic cheese. Like that.

And of course, music. The tracks you heard for the first time and liked immediately? Or the ones which took a long time to grow upon you, but once they did, they hung on for longer than many others. Or the very rare ones which you hated initially, but grew to love for other reasons. And those, which remind of you of a certain day, or event, or place or person, and bring a smile on the face. And sometimes, tears too.

And lo! I am feeling better already! That song makes so much sense, I tell you J

So, do I have a take on the Mumbai terror attacks?

I think I am not allowed to.

You know why? Because when my mother in law knocked at our door and said, there was an attack in Mumbai; my immediate reaction was, ‘Again?’ Yes, that was it.

And then I went and watched 5 minutes of television. The same shots of gunshots being heard, people running around, firing from the vehicle. Then I picked my cell phone, called and messaged those who I knew and who could have been around. Once I knew all was fine with them, I went back to the room, and closed the door behind me.

So, I think I don’t deserve to have a take on the matter. Some years ago, I guess I would give myself the right to speak about it. Because, I feel that if I had faced the same situation a few years ago, I would have been scared. Watched the encounter re-runs the whole night even. Even if it was the same shots over and over again. With ‘Breaking News’ covering half the screen. With the reporters quoting the same things over and over again, while giving extremely irrelevant opinions on what the police, and the intelligence, and firemen, should be doing. I would have watched, and been shocked and surprised, and hated the wrong doers with vengeance.

I do hate them even now, really. But more than for this particular act of terror, it’s for making me immune to terror, and violence, to news of innocent lives being taken. For making me accept things as they are, and going to the extent of just nodding and saying ‘So what’s new in this?’ I hate that I am not shocked enough. That though I feel sorry for those who have been hurt, I am unable to empathize. If there are tears, they are no longer tears of sorrow. They are more to do with anger. Anger at being so helpless. And at times, tears of relief. Relief that people I love and those who matter are safe. I know that is selfish, but that’s how I feel. And that’s what I hate those terrorists for; for making this feeling of relief for myself, my family and friends, stronger than the feeling of sympathy for the others at this moment.

And the fear. No place is safe anymore. The mother calls and asks us to cancel the weekend plans, what with all this going on, it is not safe. The Mother in law asks us not to visit crowded places anymore, malls, multiplexes, you never know what might happen. Extreme suspicion, if someone leaves his bag under the seat in the train, while he gets off to say good bye to his family. Twice in the last month, people at work were made to stay back within premises for 3 hours, till the police dogs were brought in and made to sniff that bag on the bike parked outside of office. It was an employee’s gym bag once, and clothes he had brought along for donation the other time. I hate them for the feeling of suspicion which has now become an inherent part of the mind.

But I still remain optimistic. No, I am not positive that things will change for the better, or all this will stop. I can only be hopeful for that. But I am optimistic in a very crude kind of way. That these people, who are responsible for the terror they caused, the sorrow they brought upon people who were minding their own lives, will suffer too. In a much more painful way. And no, it doesn’t bother me that they are sons, brothers, or anything else, or that there are people for whom they are everything. For me they are animals, in fact worse, because atleast animals kill when they are provoked, or hungry. The acts of this category of living creatures cannot be justified. And all I wish for is pain for them, even if it means hurting those who matter to them.

Good things happen to good people, that’s my most positive belief ever. And for once, I am just hoping that the vice versa stands true too.

Once in a while it is okay to accept that things are not going to work the way you want them to. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t tried enough, because if you hadn’t, then you were in your own way, somewhere at the back of your head, sure that things would not work out at the end of the day. In which case, it wouldn’t matter much either. But that is not the case. The fact of the matter is that you’ve worked so hard to make it better, or atleast stay the way it is, that seeing it get worse with each moment hurts. In fact, it more than just hurts, it is practically unbearable.

Very often, you just assume things can’t go wrong. You make things which were meant to be a small part of your life, a predominant factor governing it. And then, marvel at how wondrous life is. You look at others, who struggle to make things work and feel sorry for them. ‘Tsk Tsk, he is just not trying hard enough. Why else would it be so tough for him? Probably, he doesn’t care enough, in which case, losing, won’t hurt him, right? Not as much anyway’.

But one fine day, your own wondrous assumptions start sounding unreal, and when things start to change, you are startled! ‘This cannot be true! I have given it all I had, and this, I was sure was going to last! Then how the hell did it not?’ And then you try to grapple and grab at what is left, trying to get it back to atleast a bit of what it was. At times you succeed. But at times you don’t. More often than not, you’re left with bits and pieces, which when you closely observe, are just not the same. And for all you know, will never be.

Once in a while, it is much easier to get rid of those bit and pieces, wash it all away, and start afresh. Once in a while, it is okay to let go. And move on. Because this time, staying back is not an option.

 I really don’t.

So I watched Dostana this weekend. And I loved it. Despite the fact that I had to wait outside a local theatre, so that I would get the tickets in black, and came to know that even those were sold out. Despite that I had to go to a really old, out of the way theatre to watch it, and there too, all I got were upper stall tickets. And which of course meant that I was surrounded by weirdoes who were cheering, whistling, shouting for almost everything. Heck, I could hear cat calls when the Nima Sandal ad played, at Preeti Jhangiani that too. You get what I am saying right?

But I thought it was worth it. Not in a DDLJ sort of way, I doubt I would be seeing it again anytime soon, but accept it, it made me laugh. A Lot at that, and that’s something not all movies are able to do these days really.

But that’s not my point. I have been trying to read what others thought about the movie, and I come across too many blog posts discussing how nonsensical the concept was, how insensitive the portrayal of the gay characters was, how the research done was inadequate, how the movie was a mockery of relationships, blah blah.

I just want to say– Give me a break. Seriously dude. Go to IMDB; check the genre under which the movie is categorized. It says Romance/Comedy. COMEDY. And pray would you tell me, when was any movie sensitive when it was supposed to be a comedy? When did we not have stereotypical characters? I can actually say this out of personal experience, being a tam, and having lived my initial 17 years in UP. Every time, the word South Indian was used, my classmates would go, ‘Aiyyo Rama’, or switch to what they thought was a south Indian accent! Why? Because countless Bollywood movies have the tams, in veshtis, wearing huge vibhuthi naamams on their foreheads, and of course talking in that funny/comic accent. And no, I was not supposed to take offense, because, it was supposed to be funny!

And so was this. I might be repeating what a lot of people said. It is a K Jo movie, for heaven’s sake. When you go for a K Jo movie, you go for the locales, the music, the pretty clothes, the sets, and the exaggeration of sentiments. He made KANK, the most rotten concept ever! And he tried to sell it as a love story! Please keep in mind this fact, and all will seem better. I know this was a much exaggerated comedy, but people, it was supposed to be one. Atleast be thankful, that the movie shifted from its stereotypical image of gay character, who is always dressed in flowery clothes, has the typical gait, and talks in that weird feminine way. Hello! It had John and AB as the gay couple; could it get any better than that? Also, Kiron Kher added to the funnies in a beautiful way! And please, don’t say the extremely hilarious scene where she welcomes John into the house was a mockery of relationships and all! I think the ‘Jaane Kyun’ song summarizes the relationship bit quite well in itself!

About the research part, I couldn’t care less. Ok, so they showed erroneous laws and procedures in Miami. Fine. Is that what is hurting you, the General Knowledge bit? Do you think gay couples will be misled, and start moving to Miami thinking it is much simpler to survive there? No nuh? Then why are you so bothered? You might as well assume they were in this far away, illusionary where all this was actually true, just because it made the story get ahead. Would is make a difference? About child manipulation, the idea was to make us all go ‘Oh man, are they mean or what!’ Instead, we brought in the moral police once more. Leave them at home when you’re coming for some mindless entertainment, will ya?

In short, I think a big deal is being made about nothing. Why take everything as a moral issue? Or as a personal one? Does it really matter? I don’t think so. The purpose is entertainment, take it that way for once. As they would say in Hyderabad ‘Thoda Light lo bhai’.

And yeah, do go watch the movie.

Oh my God, could someone please let this girl know about the existence of Capital letters which are expected to be used at the beginning of all sentences, and while using Proper nouns, and especially while saying ‘I’? And punctuation marks too, also that ‘…’does not mean a full stop, or a comma, and using endless ‘…’s does not justify never-ending sentences? And of course, also let her know, that today, 4 years and 7 months later, she hates the usage of short forms like Fwd and Ur even in SMSes, so their rampant existence on what she calls her blog, is not appreciated?

Ok, the idea was not to criticize, but to celebrate. This, my dear readers, is the 200^th post on the blog!

*Brief pause for Applause*

Yep, so while I was reminiscing the good old days of yore, when this page had just been created, I obviously had this brainwave of revisiting those pages. And this is what I found. I know, I know, I couldn’t stop laughing either. And so many of those posts are from work, during my internship days. I guess some things never change!

What else? Yep, let's make this a movie centric post. Especially since Bollywood seems to have a lot to offer in the second half of Q4'08 (Sheesh! This sounds so much like one of my forecasting reports!). I am really looking forward to three of them specifically.

Dostana; in spite of the 2 star rating Raja Sen has bestowed upon the movie which he calls injuriously entertaining, and the tickets for which are universally unavailable. Ok, they are available in Bangalore apparently, so we’ll make it Hyderabadally unavailable. Any which way, this movie has my ringtone song! So it better be good.

Rab ne bana di Jodi; don’t hate me please, but I can’t not watch a Yash Raj movie, directed by Aditya Chopra, can I? Agreed, from the excerpts I have heard, it promises to be a lame story, but I am going to take this chance for SRK, who seems to have shed his cool-dude image for such a down-to-earth, regular-guy-with-clerk-type-moustache, reminds-me-of-A.P.Sharma look*. Seriously, I have a new found respect for him now. And I’ve never even liked him, so this actually means a lot.

And of course Ghajini. People, let’s accept it, no one misses an Aamir Khan starrer. That guy has class, seriously (Mangal Pandey/ Mela/Mann to be ignored. Man it’s about the letter M or what?!). So, like I was saying, that has to be watched. However, I am hoping that I don’t end up comparing it too often with the original flick, because that would definitely spoil the fun. Also, I am sure it would have been heavily Bollywoodised, so expecting it to have the finesse of Memento would be unfair.

As for the weekend, we have the Bond movie. And of course (this is actually the awesome bit, the of course was just to sound cool) Our first Mystery Shopping Assignment!!! Yessir, we are now an official mystery shopper! Ah, what and where and all shall not be revealed, hello, it’s supposed to be a mystery after all, right?

With that, we are done. With the post, and also, for the day. So, while I start my weekend, here’s wishing you all a Happy Weekend too! Tada!