Wednesday, January 25, 2006 

A Few Lucid Neurons of a PFTO

Nothing remotely interesting has been happening, unless gatecrashing a conference qualifies as that. The only reason for this post is the lack of heating in my building right now. As my brain rapidly cools down its starting to send my metabolism on a downward spiral. Right now my brain is totally incapable of handling excess load. Any work more tiresome than blogging will cause my brain to collapse and my systems to malfunction. So there, before my brains turns to pudding let me get back to the conference. Well, some days back, a colleague and I just went and ahead and gatecrashed a conference of traffic engineers that was in town....very impulsive, very bad and a whole lot of fun. After an hour and a half of pretentious poster gazing and smiling at random strangers, we ate a good lunch (stole fistfuls of ouzo flavored candies from the restaurant candy platter) and headed back. All this without paying the high three figure registration fee.

A friend from my grad school days got married earlier this year and sent in his wedding pictures today. Really lovely pictures...yes, they are very relaxing to my Partially Frozen Thinking Organ (PFTO). Most of my mornings usually start in front of a computer (nothing unusual there!) viewing pictures of the latest wedding or the newest baby in the social circle. And believe it or not one thing follows the other more closely than I thought. No sooner have you seen the wedding pictures than proof of the bedding appears in the next slideshow. I am getting a little confused with all this given the fact that I seem to have completely missed the maternity bone while on the assembly line. Even the last few lucid neurons of my PFTO cannot come up with one good reason (apart from evolution and the very Abou Ben Adhem-ish biological need to increase one's tribe) to justify the need for wee-little-ones. Believe it or not they (the few lucid neurons of my PFTO) can still think up many reasons against the motion. And I might as well write them down while I still have those few lucid.......

1. We will probably run out of oil and I don't want my future tribesmen to live like their great-great grandparents - without knowing the joys of whizzing around in a metal box at 80 mph.
2. We will have gouged out some more of that ozone stuff and who knows in another 50 years we might have to walk around in protective space suits to keep the radiation out. No way are my little kiddy widdies walking around like blobs on the beach, wistfully thinking of the days when bathing beauties tanning on the sands flirted merrily with half clad men playing beach volley ball.
3. The Republicans in USA and Sonia Gandhi and her clan in New Delhi might still be in power. Also Pat Robertson, this guy and this one might still be preaching.
4. They (the wee-little-ones) are best enjoyed when they are all knobbly, cuddly, gurgle-y and smell of Johnson's baby products. Unfortunately that stage does not last and soon enough you have angst ridden teenagers on hand (*mental flashback of a minnie me from the 90's sends tingly sensations down spine*)

Hmmm...that's all? I am convinced there were more ideas thirteen sentences back, seems like some more parts of PFTO have frozen up. Time to take some drastic action to jump start the thawing process, so off I go looking for warmer climes.

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):Lasse Hallstrom

Saturday, January 21, 2006 

Loud Thoughts for

the wandering dervish on the other side....we finally went to that place in Georgetown. Crispy rava dosas with subtly spiced potato filling, a generous helping of sambar and chutney - now that's comfort food for me. And a buttery croissant with jam for desert....mmmh mmmhmmmh.

Friday, January 20, 2006 

Tickle Your Grey Cells for Me, Please

So when or how does one walk away from a conversation that went down the sewage drain aeons ago? How do you slink away from a group that has made every politically uncorrect remark about pretty much every minority/ minority group under the sun and continues to hold its belly and laugh over every concievable stereotype? Infact is slinking away even good when every (yes, I know that I am overdoing the every bit) cell in your body wants to strangle the living daylights out of that piece of blubber sitting next to you making homophobic jokes. Unfortunately, it probably is. Specially when those people/group/piece of blubber are way up in the food chain than you are.

 

We Went, We Saw, We Left

Yep, after battling rush hour traffic and vanquishing crazy DC drivers for that 2 X 3 parking space in the ditch we did exactly that. We went in, saw the crowds, stood around, twiddled our thumbs, heard His disembodied voice and then left with a coffee and our unsigned copy. Next time will remember to be early, atleast before half of DC gets there.

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):boys of baraka

Tuesday, January 17, 2006 

Here's How You Connect Turpentine, Munich and Parking

Just when I had gotten used to the water mark on my bedroom ceiling (from a leak some months back in the roof) the painters came and painted over it. I had started seeing shapes up there. After a few minutes of intense concentration, the brownish patch would slowly dissolve into a bear cub's face and the triangular smudge started looking like an INSAT-1 b image of the Indian peninsula. Now its all gone. The ceiling is an even, boring white and the bedroom stinks of paint and turpentine. I slept on the couch last night and fell asleep while watching the Golden Globes. Munich did not win a single award...bad, bad, bad. In other news, my sister lost her ATM card and by the time she realised it someone had gone to town with it, leaving her with with a five figure loss (actually its my Dad who is in the red and don't ask me what she was doing with that sort of cash in her account...long, long story).

And here's something to ponder about. Why do people back into parking spaces and park their vehicles? Don't they realise its nerve racking to watch the driver of eleven seater van with no windows reverse into the parking space adjacent to the one occupied by your cute sedan? Its even more infuriating when the said driver comes down from his high perch with a smug look on his face as if expecting a prize for acing Parking 101. Whether its front end parking or back end parking, both require the driver to reverse atleast once. So why reverse and park when parking front end and reversing on the way out is so much easier. Or is this another of those macho things that I will never get?

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):3d hard drives

Saturday, January 14, 2006 

The Happening Party Scene

With the Boy at the fag end of his graduate career and me so knee deep in my proffessional
one that I can barely remember grad school, it feels nice to attend the odd Indian Graduate Student Party. We are by no means regulars at these do's but a recent Christmas cum Farewell Party (yes, Grad students organise things like that!!) left me thinking and here is what I thunk:

The Desi Man Throws A Bash Party: These are thrown by cool single men, usually a pack of four who form a household, involve copious amounts of liquor and food (think chicken, paneer, rice and a big jar of Crisco) and loud bhangra music. Usually eighty percent of the crowd is in grad school studying some sort of engineering, everyone knows every one else's advisor and most conversations are about (you guessed it!!)-grad school. Women are few and far between and easy to spot as they sit/stand in a corner all by themselves holding the sorry odd glass of coke. After dinner you may sit around and watch some long forgotten cricket match between India and Pakistan and get all excited and sweaty if you are into that sort of thing. There might even be some random dancing if the group is adventurous but please note that both forms of after dinner activity are strictly all male. Women just stand around with bored expressions. On the other hand if you are the cool woman (you know, the one who actually has a favorite beer *nudge, nudge, wink wink) then you drink yourself silly and proceed to enjoy yourself. Well what else do you do when subjected to pick up lines outlawed in 1842 when in an inebriated, happy state? You could try talking to the other woman, but I would advise against it. I am told that even smart-ish men with no hang-ups about talking to women fare miserably. Any attempt at an intelligent conversation is met with dramatic hand movements (especially of the ring finger, if married), much fidgetting with some random necklace or the mention of a much loved fiance in Rampur village, Jaunpur District, Chapra, Bihar, India. So enter this arena of repressed sexuality at great risk to your own.

Good Natured, Convent Educated Indian Girl Seeks...Party: These are hosted by groups of single women (who again live together) with good home cooked, Indian food, no music and absolutely no booze. Only guys with cars, good manners and the right horoscopes are allowed entry into these parties. No dirty jokes please, only PG-13 conversation about how much one misses one's Mommy is allowed. Infact you may even have an impromptu party game where folks compete in telling their personal horror stories (about living far, far away from Mommy, obviously!!). Unlike the male version, here one is expected to let out load groans of appreciation after the dinner, a few belches may be going a bit too far though. That's it. The end. Go home.

The Domesticated Lot Entertains Party: Hosted by couples for other couples, these are full of in-house jokes, good food, party games and lazing around. Booze may or may not be available. Single people or folks who don't know the host couple from their single days should never ever go to these. If said domesticated lot has discharged their societal, cultural and ancestral duties and have recently come to possess a bundle of joy, then forget it (unless off course you love free booze more than your sanity). It's not a party, darling. Its a full blown cooing, gurgling and funny noises session with bundle of joy providing the first two from its vantage point and you creating the funny noises in a vain attempt at establishing communication.

There are some others too, like the social outcasts party (thrown by people with convoluted love lives who want to make new friends) or the we-are-an-item-so-say-our-parents party (thrown by the we-are-just-friends couple at the eve of their departure to motherland for matrimonial purposes) or the surprise birthday party and its one-cake-for-eating-and-another-for-trashing varietal. And then there are my parties.....

Disclaimer: Please, please, please the views presented above are of those of my viciously misanthropic, carefree, listless,wanton and immoral alter ego and should in no way affect your judgement when deciding the guest list for the next desi party.

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):fennel chicken soup

Wednesday, January 11, 2006 

Bhairavi

The gray skies of dawn break upon a city rolling in its bed, stretching, yawning, bleary eyed, grubby, grudgingly waking up to face yet another day. The faint smell of coal fires being kindled with cardboard fills the air. Somewhere inside the bazaar shutters are being lifted and little clouds of dust in front of shops tamed by an occasional splash of water by a little boy; inside, the owner lights incense to a goddess with many arms. From the dark depths of the chai -pani place comes the clatter of utensils and the aroma of thick boiling chai – for the first patrons.

The new flyover takes you whizzing by the third floor bedroom window of middle class India which is still sleeping inside its mosquito net with the window carelessly open – a right earned for predating the flyover. The flyover goes down to meet its earthling friend near the hustle bustle of a ground floor kitchen. The banshee like shriek of the pressure cooker assaults the morning calm. Look closely and you might catch the glimmer of a TV churning out the latest news and a lady with her wet hair wrapped in towel reasoning with surly children in half ironed school uniforms – this is the new India, desperate to get out of its one BHK rental unit.

The taxi rushes, the lack of competition at this hour has clearly gone to its head. In this light, the open sewers and the homeless who sleep by them look romantic – very City Of Joy-esque. The crude graffiti on the walls look harmless and soon give way to that patch of greenery the municipality calls the city’s lung. At this hour retired government officers walking their morning walk are choking the precious lung.


I miss all of that today as I wander around the antiseptic cleanliness of an American suburb at 5:00 AM. Only cars whiz by – silently, politely. With a head full of images and distant memories, I head for the Dunkin Donuts with its bright neon “OPEN” sign and smiling cashier. She gives me my coffee and wishes me well. I finish my coffee slowly and look outside on the gray morning which is now choc-bloc with traffic. I suddenly feel fine. You see, after that bewitching hour cities everywhere wake up (even suburbs). The ugliness of traffic, jostling, irate humans and nauseating pollution file in and the spell is broken for yet another day.

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Tuesday, January 10, 2006 

Gloat Time

The Boy and I have been obsessing about Sudoku for quite some time now. The Boy more than me, if I might say so. Okay, so I do gobble up my lunch in fifteen minutes flat and spend the remaining fifteen in trying to solve one of the many insidious, addictive puzzles here. But my anti social behavior at the lunch table paid off last night when I beat the Boy at solving a puzzle....yippee....gloat, gloat.

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):sursum corda, dc

Monday, January 09, 2006 

Rusell, Eric and Heath - Australian for Male

Let me say that slowly with a big, magnificient drawl like the guy in the Fosters Beer ad. Aaustraaalian....Mmmmmh...delicious(not the beer, silly).

First there was Russell Crowe of the gruffy,scruffy charms. I went around start struck after watching him die valiantly in The Gladiator, bumble his schizophrenic way around A Beautiful Mind and finally box his way through The Cindrella Man (Gosh! he looks good even with a crooked nose and a battered face).

Then Eric Bana happened...slowly. Black Hawk Down was too much of Josh Hartnett. The Hulk was a bad, bad movie about a good looking doctor who morphs into a ugly block of stone or something really hard once in a while. In Troy, Jolie's luscious lips kept getting in the way and I barely noticed the smouldering-ly good looking Hector. Two weeks back in Munich I finally woke up to reality(man is he hot or is he HOT?) and a reality check (via Google) confirmed that he was yet another import from Down Under!!

Last night during Casanova the final move-over-Gael-Garcia-Bernal-the-Aussies-are-here moment happened. I saw Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain a while back for the first time and registered the fact that he was Australian too. But to be honest, I was more bowled over by his subdued, lip clenching, mumbling characterisation of Ennis del Mar than his achievements in the looks department. But ladies and gentleman, listen up, for I am going to say this only once (because this is one of those rare moments where I shall demonstrate the depths of my shallowness and expose my he-is-so-cute side and may be giggle a little) - Heath Ledger is really cute.

And now I shall retreat into my I-like-guys-with-glasses shell and stay there till I move to Australia which beckons with its warm weather(no more shovelling snow), interesting wildlife (I could theoretically have a pet kangaroo, wallaby, koala or even a scrub python) and gorgeous men!!!

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):i want to ride my bicycle lyrics, queen

Tuesday, January 03, 2006 

Another Low in Reality TV

Last night while flipping channels Subho ran into the newest form of urban stupidity - Beauty and the Geek. I believe this idiotic monstrosity has already enjoyed one season and now comes back with the greatest of mimbos - Ashton Kutcher, at the helm of affairs. So the basic premise is that eight beautiful but dumb women and eight brainy but not brawny men are put up in a house with a hot tub. The girls try to get the boys into the hot tub, the girls show off their perfectly toned bodies on TV, they even get one last chance at improving their IQ's and tickling their grey cells and the guys....now that is the question? What do the guys get out of it? Lets see...they get to show off their less than perfect bodies, they get to preen around the hot tub, they get to have by lines like "Never kissed a woman"/"Never been on a date" flash everytime they appear on screen. Now why would a Mensa member sign up for derision at the hands of a blonde flibbertygibbet? Low self esteem..naah. Death wish - more like it.

Don't they have the wondrous example of that geek of all geeks to follow? Doesn't every bubble headed cheerleader who mocked him in high school wish she had treated him better while she waits table at the local diner? And why, oh why does it have to be Beauty and the Geek? What about brainy women and cowboys sharing space on the idiot box on a show called Athena and the Cowboy?

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):Leading Pedestrian Interval

Sunday, January 01, 2006 

Welcoming 2006

Now that you are here to stay (atleast for the next 364 days) you'd better come in and make yourself comfortable. Sorry for not giving you a rousing welcome. You see we are getting old and prefer spending our time playing Pictionary with friends over mulled wine to tooting our car horns in crowded public spaces. Now, now...behave yourself...no more rumbling earth, crumbling sea floors and thundering typhoons please! And while you are at it, spread around some peace and joy and all the other assorted goodies. Try to be a good year for the environment and the birds, bees, fish and the dolphins (no particular order there but I really do like the dolphins). O-Five was nice to the movies, try to keep that up - will you.

I will be kind of busy with the upcoming nuptials...don't you go sulking around that time. Put on your brightest smile and join in the festivities and make sure to drill some sense into the second person you see headed our way with an ice bucket or an ice cream maker. The Boy will be looking for a job soon, so don't send the employment numbers spiralling down...a little bit of buoyancy in those figures would certainly help.

Can't think of much else right now. I do have a couple of plans (as always) I would like to discuss with you but we can do that tomorrow. Goodnight then, stay warm and keep the volume low (no sudden surprises and that sort of thing!)... and who knows we might just have a whooping time together.

GOOGLE SEARCH OF THE DAY (till now):american dreamz

About me

  • Liberal,open-minded with a known weakness for bespectacled and intelligent men. Love nature and all of God's creatures big and small with exception of the slimy, slithery ones and Aishwarya Rai. Netflix junkie. Enjoy cooking/experimenting with new and exotic ingredients. Dabble in art and music occassionally. Still cannot resist free food. Get paid for solving traffic problems.
  • From Silver Spring, Maryland, United States
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