Plus ça change

In an attempt to kickstart more regular blogging, I'm moving. Please update your links and the RSS Feed.
I first started blogging in 2004. I was twenty years old, in my last year of college and had no idea what I was going to do once I grow up.

Since then, I've lived in two countries, in three different cities, moved four apartments and now, five years later, I'm a student again and still have no idea what I am going to do with the rest of my life!

They say, plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose!

Pretty Woman

The cab pulls up outside the hotel. I struggle out, trying to grab my overnight bag and coat in one hand while typing furiously on my blackberry with the other.

A storm of flashes go off, I'm mildly disconcerted. My fellow traveller bounds out and smiles, waving his hand. It takes a few seconds for the gathered paparazzi to realize we're not who they were expecting. The cameras go down accompanied by some very French sighing..

Spring has sprung

The crocuses are in full bloom, the birds are in my garden.. Spring has finally sprung.
Yay!

Of the Pubgoing, Loose and Forward Women

I applaud the moral agenda of the Ram Sena. In a country like India where the police is ineffective, and constitutional machinery is breaking down - it's important that we have vigilantes taking justice in their own hands.

How else will we prevent sacrilegeous things like Muslim boys and Hindu girls drinking juice together?

Forget the cases of domestic violence, rape and female infanticide. Ignore the fact that 1 out of every 4 women in India is sexually abused.

Clearly, it is the Pubgoing, Loose and Forward Women who are the big challenge to the moral fiber and integrity of our Great Hindu Nation.

er.. Did anyone happen to see some pink underwear?

Grocery Shopping

Every year, usually around January, I realize that there is a wide gap between who I am and who I want to be. Nowhere is this more evident than in my grocery shopping. Like most people I’m rather fond of junk food. One of the semi-cheap thrills of moving to London was discovering a whole new junk food alphabet – from Aero bars to Buttons all the way down to Wispa and Yorkie bars. For a posh night in I break out the Kettle Chips with cracked black pepper.. which is essentially junk food at its Sunday best.

Yet if you see me at a Sainsbury’s on the weekend, it’s like I’m shopping for a different person. The kind of person who eats crunchy carrots and radishes, breakfasts on organic oatmeal and drinks chamomile tea. Every Sunday afternoon is pretty much an exercise in optimism – with purchases of what feels like eight kilos of fresh fruit, muesli bars, authentic pesto from an authentic Italian man at the market, non-fat non-saturated no calorie yoghurt (i.e. white coloured water) and juice enough for your average kindergarten class.

Come Wednesday evening though and I can usually be found in front of the television munching nachos at 1 am while a disapproving pile of oranges watches over me.