Growing up..

I catch a cold every time the season changes. Chennai to Ahmedabad hasn't changed that.

At home, I used to curl up in my bed with hot cocoa, blankets and a nice book. I'd 'intercom' my mom every time I wanted something and spend the week in luxury.

Today, I washed my own handkerchiefs, applied vicks on my face and went to sleep.

If this is what growing up is, then I want no part of it.

I miss my mom..

:-(

Summer's Here

It's that time of the year again. When we all dress up in suits and scarves and pointed painful shoes. We attend twenty odd company presentations every week and fill what seems like a billion forms.

The nervous tension is palpable. Suddenly, all 260 of us want to be i bankers :-) and are praying for shortlists and wondering what to do after they come out.

Which basically means, I have no time to blog. Too much to do.. classes, midterms, placements, mugging..

So I'll be off for a while..
Back on the 17th with hopefully something to celebrate :)

Ta!

Through an Open Window

The trouble with everything is that it starts out so romantically in your head. The idea of lounging endlessly on a beach chair, watching time go by in the company of lime mint coolers and tall palms.

Sitting on the steps of a train compartment at 5 am in the morning. Feeling the wind rush by in rain soaked Kerala. The very notion conjures up images of green fields, swaying coconut palms, backwaters and steaming hot chai.

Yet, in real life, there are always mosquitoes, stinking loos and "Oops! I forgot to pack my toothbrush".

I want to be able to find romance in that. That's right.

In forgotten toothbrushes and mismatched socks.

Hullaballoo in the Blogosphere

It's just not right.
In fact, I'd go so far as to say its wrong.
And also, Stupid.
What was IIPM thinking? It came out with all guns blazing to silence a 'tiny yellow magazine of no consequence' and met the full fury of the blogging world.
Strong arm tactics, legal (sic!) notices, anonymous commenting and the utter lack of mainstream media coverage (guess who spent crores on advertising in these newspapers over the last quarters?)

Still wondering who Rashmi Bansal, Gaurav Sabnis, IIPM are? Know More

I did what the Voices told me

I read in the paper this morning about George Bush's conversations with God. Apparently this is the reason he decided to invade Iraq. I've heard of Indian politicians doing some mighty strange things but stories of George and Tony praying together before launching attacks on Iraq sound somehow, more discomforting.

Maybe I was hoping that a decision to bomb a country back into the stone age would be based on a little more than tiny voices in one's head.

The more important question is, how did Michael Moore not know this??

I'm supposedly busy with a lot of things these days. Classes which are going on. Insight and Confluence which are two important b-school fests of contrasting natures. Summer placements and endless company forms to fill out. But mostly, I'm sitting in my room, reading like a maniac and writing like a mad mad hatter.

More on that, later..

This is not a post

It started out as one. It started out as a really long post to make up for a prolonged absence. It started with a bang really. A very nice opening sentence. But then, I couldn't finish that and couldn't really find anything else to say.

It's 6.50 pm now and I have an economics class at 7 pm. So again, as usual I have no time. I'm finding recently that I simply don't have the time for things that are important. All these niggling urgent tasks come in the way of all the important things. So now, since I can't type out a long post, I'll just leave after typing out a short one.

The past few days i've been reading plays. The thing about a play is that its all raw emotion. On the surface. Its real life. There is no show and tell. It's just real people as they are, emotions, conversations, thoughts.

It's complicated and sometimes messy, but often, so is life. And a good play makes me think for a week.

I read Mahesh Dattani's second volume of plays. I've been unfortunate enough to have never seen one in action. But I love them reading them anyway. This set holds no candle to his first volume. These are mostly written for the screen rather than the stage. That said, the detective plays are entertaining and the radio plays are thought provoking. 30 days in September is a play you need to see to understand.

Strangely, I liked Mango Souffle more than a On a Muggy Night in Bombay. (Former is a screenplay based on the latter which was written for the stage). There is no need for a tight space to showcase all of them, scenes can be set across time and space in a movie, which makes for more interesting reading.

I also re-read Badal Sircar's evam indrajeet. It's one of my favorite plays and always gets me thinking. If you haven't seen a performance of the play, you're missing something. A heavy play, you often need a day or two to digest it after reading it, but it is a powerful piece of work that speaks directly to you.

This then, is my heaven. A few minutes stolen for a secret mistress. My accounting text stares down at me, Kotler gives me a disapproving glance, while i sneak off to spend another half an hour with a book. But excuse me now, it's 6.55 pm. And as I said before I have a class at 7 pm.