When you catch a cold, what is that you miss the most?
I miss smells.
I can deal with a runny / blocked nose,a sore throat, an aching head, the frequent coughing and sneezing and in general all the bodily discomforts that cold brings with it.
( HOW I deal with those is an entirely different topic though! ;-) )
For me, the entire experience of fine dinning is dominated by the olfactory glands.
For any dish to register in my memories, it has to pass the smell test.
Tastes are strongly associated with smells in my culinary memories.
Am not so keen about the visual aspect of it. If it dosen't look good, but smells great, I will have it.
How many times has it happened, that you've had a very tiring day at work - in fact so tiring, that the fact that you are hungry,is overridden by the fact that you are tired.
And in this state, you yourself cannot indentify, that the main reason for this fatigue is lack of food, and not lack of rest.
My grandmom always can identify this case with any of us siblings.
If any of us were being particularly edgy and full of 'kurkur' just before dinner time - she says that 'hunger and sleep have been mixed up in these brats' -
One whiff of a strong tempering (tadka / phodni) with curry leaves or garlic, and the truth dawns on us, that its indeed a good dinner that will fix all kurkur.
( Kurkur is one word in marathi which aptly describes the persistent grumbling due to any sort of discomfort (known or unknown), which is not serious, but irritating enough for the person invloved and those in his/her vicinity)
Ok. I digressed.
This blog is about smells, or rather the lack of them in an event of cold.
Many of our small comforts in a day, come from smells.
A perfectly brewed hot cuppa coffee or tea starts your day on the right note.
The just right bath soap you use, gets you all fresh for the day.
The pleasant smell of your prefume puts you at ease to work with people around.
The smell of coffee in between work, pushes you on for more work.
Am sure there are many more such smells, which put you at ease, and wrap you with a comfortable familiarity.
But with a nasty cold, you feel so left out and un-familiar with the surroundings!
In my average day, my walk to office itself is a riot of pleasant, familiar smells.
I travel by train, and while walking out of the station, familiar smells always greet me.
One is a French pasty shop, from where smell of freshly baked bread whiffs by.
Then there is a shop dedicated to indulgence soaps.Handmade soaps with wild falvors of fruits,flowers,even chocolates!Passing by that shop is almost like passing by an open perfume stall.
Then there is StarBucks coffee, just at the exit of the station. I am no big fan, but I do enjoy the bitter, earthy aroma of coffee, on a cold, wet morning!
With my sense of smell blocked due to cold, I feel like an alien while walking past these shops, who is totally uncapable of understanding these worldly pleasures.
My appetite is linked with smells too.
You see hot steaming rice and dal, with a fiery lemon pickle - but alas!
You can't smell it!
It seems like eating wax or plastic food, and you struggle to break the invisible barrier that stops you from indulging into the olfactory pleasures of your daily lunch!
same is the case with all the comforting beverages served during cold.
Ginger tea?, honey-milk-termeric?, pepper broth?
HUH! Bring them on and I can down them with equal ease!
They are no different to me, as long as the steam coming from the cup finds its way into my nostrils! :-)
You see mum cooking a nice greens curry, with a red-chilly and garlic tadka, or making a mint chutney in a grinder, a sweet pudding with cardamom , even boiling cabbage for some curry - but what the heck!
Its like watching a cookery show! You see it, but nothing reaches you, because you can't smell it!
Not being able to smell is like like being cut off from the main stream for me.
And given the kind of nosey person I am (pun NOT intended),
this surely is a big punishment! ;-)
Friday, December 15, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Just can't stop giggling
Yesterday - C told me a funny incident involving his cousins.
We both were watching funny videos on the net, and there is this old one, where 2 roomies are at an electric point (a switch board) in a room. Guess its evening or something, coz both the guys are sleepy looking and dishevelled.
One is trying to fix something with a screwdriver, and the other one is holding a torch in one hand to aid his friend a work, while eating a banana in the other hand.
Suddenly the friend with the screwdriver starts shouting and twitching, holding the screwdriver in both the hands, as if he is recieving a nasty electric shock.
Paniced, the banana-eating friend also joins in while jogging in his own place and shouting, genuinely terrified.
This is when the screwdriver friend bursts out laughing and the banana eating friend shoves the half eaten banana in his face saying something not-so-good. :-)
The video is hardly a minute long, and watching it first time made me burst out laughing in the office.
Everytime I remember it, I can't stop giggling.
After watching the video, C told about his cousins A and B.
A was a teenager then, and B a toddler.
On a particularly busy family day, A and B both happened to be in the same room. B - being his cute and chubby self, spread his arms at the sight of A, and asked for a quick lift. A, being pleased with this affectionate gesture, lifted B, did a quick fervent jig and let out a scream only to drop B back to the floor.
It had so happened that B was holding a pair of scissors - and was contemplating to put them in a plug point. Being a toddler, he lacked the height to reach the socket. As soon as A lifted him, B seized the golden opportunity and plunged the scissor in the socket - resulting in the short comic jig.
No one filmed it at that time, but am sure (with all due concern to safety) it would have made an equally funny video. :-)
We both were watching funny videos on the net, and there is this old one, where 2 roomies are at an electric point (a switch board) in a room. Guess its evening or something, coz both the guys are sleepy looking and dishevelled.
One is trying to fix something with a screwdriver, and the other one is holding a torch in one hand to aid his friend a work, while eating a banana in the other hand.
Suddenly the friend with the screwdriver starts shouting and twitching, holding the screwdriver in both the hands, as if he is recieving a nasty electric shock.
Paniced, the banana-eating friend also joins in while jogging in his own place and shouting, genuinely terrified.
This is when the screwdriver friend bursts out laughing and the banana eating friend shoves the half eaten banana in his face saying something not-so-good. :-)
The video is hardly a minute long, and watching it first time made me burst out laughing in the office.
Everytime I remember it, I can't stop giggling.
After watching the video, C told about his cousins A and B.
A was a teenager then, and B a toddler.
On a particularly busy family day, A and B both happened to be in the same room. B - being his cute and chubby self, spread his arms at the sight of A, and asked for a quick lift. A, being pleased with this affectionate gesture, lifted B, did a quick fervent jig and let out a scream only to drop B back to the floor.
It had so happened that B was holding a pair of scissors - and was contemplating to put them in a plug point. Being a toddler, he lacked the height to reach the socket. As soon as A lifted him, B seized the golden opportunity and plunged the scissor in the socket - resulting in the short comic jig.
No one filmed it at that time, but am sure (with all due concern to safety) it would have made an equally funny video. :-)
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Accents
I've spent enough time in UK, to just be able to distinguish an Irish accent from a Scottish one, and a Scottish accent from a British one and all these from the acquired desi ones ;-)
Me and C, while watching TV , try and spot out these and keep a score. It has made us more keen listeners, and we don't go all 'Sorry?', 'Pardon me?','Eh?', 'Huh?', 'What?', '??!!!' while interacting with the local people as much as we did when we arrived here ;-)
We have even picked up some slang as well, or the style in which ppl here speak - with a 'ya?' at the end ;-) 'Going home ya?', 'you reach the Liverpool stn ya?, then turn rt, ya?' . And the more recent 'mate'. We chat in office with a purposeful 'mate' at the end of every single conversation.
'Cheers mate'
'cya mate'
'how u doin mate?'
'shut up mate' ;-)
The desi accents ..esp for the lot like us, who arrive with english which is all mixed up with our regional accents. There is 'Marathi English' which has all the words rounded and pronounced till the last alphabet, without heeding the subtulity of an english word. Then there is 'Andhra English' where all words end with an extra 'u' or an extra 'a' at the end. Then there is 'Tamil English' which has a lull for every word to resonate it like a tamil word, there is 'Mallu English' which is as hard to get as is actual mallu :-) Then there are numerous north indian accents which are almost like speaking hindi, rather than english.
Watch Russell Peter doing how desis speak english - howlarious! :-)
And then once arrived, we try and blend our regional english with the local one here, and in an effort to be more understandable, try to pick the accent here. Sometimes its deliberate, sometimes its a sincere effort, sometimes its an embarassing showoff, sometimes a subconscious twang and its just so funny at times. :-)
English is a beautiful language and shines through all it goes through at the hands (or mouths? ;-) ) of all those who take a go at it. ( Did I mess up the sentence here? ;-) )
Me and C, while watching TV , try and spot out these and keep a score. It has made us more keen listeners, and we don't go all 'Sorry?', 'Pardon me?','Eh?', 'Huh?', 'What?', '??!!!' while interacting with the local people as much as we did when we arrived here ;-)
We have even picked up some slang as well, or the style in which ppl here speak - with a 'ya?' at the end ;-) 'Going home ya?', 'you reach the Liverpool stn ya?, then turn rt, ya?' . And the more recent 'mate'. We chat in office with a purposeful 'mate' at the end of every single conversation.
'Cheers mate'
'cya mate'
'how u doin mate?'
'shut up mate' ;-)
The desi accents ..esp for the lot like us, who arrive with english which is all mixed up with our regional accents. There is 'Marathi English' which has all the words rounded and pronounced till the last alphabet, without heeding the subtulity of an english word. Then there is 'Andhra English' where all words end with an extra 'u' or an extra 'a' at the end. Then there is 'Tamil English' which has a lull for every word to resonate it like a tamil word, there is 'Mallu English' which is as hard to get as is actual mallu :-) Then there are numerous north indian accents which are almost like speaking hindi, rather than english.
Watch Russell Peter doing how desis speak english - howlarious! :-)
And then once arrived, we try and blend our regional english with the local one here, and in an effort to be more understandable, try to pick the accent here. Sometimes its deliberate, sometimes its a sincere effort, sometimes its an embarassing showoff, sometimes a subconscious twang and its just so funny at times. :-)
English is a beautiful language and shines through all it goes through at the hands (or mouths? ;-) ) of all those who take a go at it. ( Did I mess up the sentence here? ;-) )
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Pound A Bowl
The place where I stay is a small town which has weekend markets with everything from vegetable stalls to celtic jwellery stalls.
I love roaming about in these markets.
The best stalls are ' Pound a Bowl ' stalls.
They sell fresh farm fruits and vegetables.
Bowls of fruits and vegetables are arranged in various bowls of same size, and 2-3 people are busy at each stall.
The variety keeps chnaging with availability and there is always a range to choose from.
Grapes, bananas, pineapples, apples, peaches, plums, pears,oranges, grapefruits, melons,passion fruits, summer berries like strawberries, blackberries,rasberries, cherries,dates and a few more fruits that am still trying to identify :-)
Then there are veggies like aubergines (thats brinjals :-) ),pumkins,radishes, cabbages,tomatoes, cherry tomatoes,shallots, spring onions, carrots, spinach, rocket salad(its some kinda greens),gourds, parnsnips, suedes,okra (bhindi), beans, sprouts,parsley,capsicums,cauliflowers,mushrooms and all that.
At times we find flower boquets, small potted pansies sharing space as well.
The aubergines are the shiniest purple i've seen and the berries are the juciest I have tasted.
One person at the front of the stall will be busy shouting
'Pounda Ball - Pounda Ball ' ( Pound a Bowl) interspersed with a more personal note,
' care for fresh grapes - honey? ' ,
'how'bt these aubergines dah-ling ' for a passing by customer.
One person is behind the make-shift counter managing cash - with
'here's your change -dear',
' a bowl of bananas - ya? ',
'yes sweetheart - whatdaya want?'.
'Thats 2 pounds baby' .
This person can be anyone from a cute little elderly lady to a pimply teenager with spikes . But the dialogue is always same :-)
One person is kinda behind-the-scene , refilling the bowls, emptying the crates, stacking goods in that small makeshift stall.
The places are always merry, the products almost always look clean,healthy and inviting and always appear to be the best bargain. The stalls are never messy, the people at the stalls never snobbish or rude and they all seem very happy to have you at the stall.
The business is always quick and by 5.00 in the evening, the stalls are empty and packed up to leave.
Of the small everyday joys that we look for, this one is on my top-10 (or whatever) list and I make sure that on weekends I tick this one off as 'passed with flying colors' :-)
I love roaming about in these markets.
The best stalls are ' Pound a Bowl ' stalls.
They sell fresh farm fruits and vegetables.
Bowls of fruits and vegetables are arranged in various bowls of same size, and 2-3 people are busy at each stall.
The variety keeps chnaging with availability and there is always a range to choose from.
Grapes, bananas, pineapples, apples, peaches, plums, pears,oranges, grapefruits, melons,passion fruits, summer berries like strawberries, blackberries,rasberries, cherries,dates and a few more fruits that am still trying to identify :-)
Then there are veggies like aubergines (thats brinjals :-) ),pumkins,radishes, cabbages,tomatoes, cherry tomatoes,shallots, spring onions, carrots, spinach, rocket salad(its some kinda greens),gourds, parnsnips, suedes,okra (bhindi), beans, sprouts,parsley,capsicums,cauliflowers,mushrooms and all that.
At times we find flower boquets, small potted pansies sharing space as well.
The aubergines are the shiniest purple i've seen and the berries are the juciest I have tasted.
One person at the front of the stall will be busy shouting
'Pounda Ball - Pounda Ball ' ( Pound a Bowl) interspersed with a more personal note,
' care for fresh grapes - honey? ' ,
'how'bt these aubergines dah-ling ' for a passing by customer.
One person is behind the make-shift counter managing cash - with
'here's your change -dear',
' a bowl of bananas - ya? ',
'yes sweetheart - whatdaya want?'.
'Thats 2 pounds baby' .
This person can be anyone from a cute little elderly lady to a pimply teenager with spikes . But the dialogue is always same :-)
One person is kinda behind-the-scene , refilling the bowls, emptying the crates, stacking goods in that small makeshift stall.
The places are always merry, the products almost always look clean,healthy and inviting and always appear to be the best bargain. The stalls are never messy, the people at the stalls never snobbish or rude and they all seem very happy to have you at the stall.
The business is always quick and by 5.00 in the evening, the stalls are empty and packed up to leave.
Of the small everyday joys that we look for, this one is on my top-10 (or whatever) list and I make sure that on weekends I tick this one off as 'passed with flying colors' :-)
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Saagara Sangamam
I happened to watch a very good film yesterday, after hearing loads and loads about it from my hubby and his friends.
Saagara Sangamam.Its fantastic. Its fabulous.
And though am still learning telugu, I had absolutely no problem what-so-ever in understanding the film. Its the mind over matter kinda thing. Language is no obstacle for feelings. They can be communicated beyond such boundaries. ( Which incidently I've come to realise very closely. But more on language barriers later - in some other post.)
Its about an unfortunate but gifted classical dancer, who aspires to make it big in the world of art. He refrains from comprising on the form of art, and persues the art of dance in its purest form.
He is noticed and encouraged by a rich lady. She gets him an opportunity to perform at a platform whch would bring him recognition. He is overwhelmed with this, and wants his aged mother to witness this event.But as fate may be, his mother expires and he does not participate in the event.
After this incident, he becomes attached to the lady, who inspires his art. But again fate intervens, and the day he confesses his love, he comes to know that she is married. He sacrifices his love and reunites her with her husband.
He loses a pillar in his life, and becomes an alcoholic. A few years later, fate brings them together, this time when he reviews a dance performance by her daughter.Her husband has expired.
She finds him, and is crushed to see the state he is in.She revives him and gets him to teach her daughter.
He, as a gesture of his gratitude towards all that she did for him, trains her daughter to master the art, and passes away watching her perform, thus preserving the art and making it immortal.
The songs are beautiful. S. P. Balasubramanyam and Ilayaraaja work magic.
JayaPrada looks serenely beautiful. Acts superb. I've never found her so appealing before.
I don't claim that its her best acting effort or something, but I personally liked her a lot in this particular movie.Its a pity what the hindi movies of 80's and 90's did to her. (all those movies with Jeetendra, Dharmendra and the lot- when all were towards the fag end of their careers)
The supporting cast is also very apt. All are humble, normal characters. No one is larger than life. No one is over the top. Even the small anount of humour here n there in the film is refreshing, and not out of place.
I find these things quite appealing in films.
And now the main protagonist of the film. Kamal Hasan.
I find him extremely methodical and in this film, a perfectionist.
He potrays a gifted classical dancer, and gifted classical dancer he is.
Its a treat watching him on the screen. The dance sequences are lovely.
The way he acts is just superb. You find yourself riding the waves of emotions as he walks us through the film.
There is no melodrama, no extreme emotions or heartwrenching dialogues. The simplicity of it all suffices to make tears flow.
I have a very gawdy impression of south indian movies (Tamil & Telugu), especially the recent ones. Extreme emotion, extreme action, extreme romance,heavy dialogues, heavy heroines ;-) .
One reason for it can be the gawdy remakes that end up in Bollywood. I find them very crude.
But with movies like Sagara Sangamam,Rudraveena, SankaraBharanam, even Chitram Bhalare Wichitram, that impression is definitely altered. There are more such gems, and I would definitely like to view as many as possible.
Saagara Sangamam.Its fantastic. Its fabulous.
And though am still learning telugu, I had absolutely no problem what-so-ever in understanding the film. Its the mind over matter kinda thing. Language is no obstacle for feelings. They can be communicated beyond such boundaries. ( Which incidently I've come to realise very closely. But more on language barriers later - in some other post.)
Its about an unfortunate but gifted classical dancer, who aspires to make it big in the world of art. He refrains from comprising on the form of art, and persues the art of dance in its purest form.
He is noticed and encouraged by a rich lady. She gets him an opportunity to perform at a platform whch would bring him recognition. He is overwhelmed with this, and wants his aged mother to witness this event.But as fate may be, his mother expires and he does not participate in the event.
After this incident, he becomes attached to the lady, who inspires his art. But again fate intervens, and the day he confesses his love, he comes to know that she is married. He sacrifices his love and reunites her with her husband.
He loses a pillar in his life, and becomes an alcoholic. A few years later, fate brings them together, this time when he reviews a dance performance by her daughter.Her husband has expired.
She finds him, and is crushed to see the state he is in.She revives him and gets him to teach her daughter.
He, as a gesture of his gratitude towards all that she did for him, trains her daughter to master the art, and passes away watching her perform, thus preserving the art and making it immortal.
The songs are beautiful. S. P. Balasubramanyam and Ilayaraaja work magic.
JayaPrada looks serenely beautiful. Acts superb. I've never found her so appealing before.
I don't claim that its her best acting effort or something, but I personally liked her a lot in this particular movie.Its a pity what the hindi movies of 80's and 90's did to her. (all those movies with Jeetendra, Dharmendra and the lot- when all were towards the fag end of their careers)
The supporting cast is also very apt. All are humble, normal characters. No one is larger than life. No one is over the top. Even the small anount of humour here n there in the film is refreshing, and not out of place.
I find these things quite appealing in films.
And now the main protagonist of the film. Kamal Hasan.
I find him extremely methodical and in this film, a perfectionist.
He potrays a gifted classical dancer, and gifted classical dancer he is.
Its a treat watching him on the screen. The dance sequences are lovely.
The way he acts is just superb. You find yourself riding the waves of emotions as he walks us through the film.
There is no melodrama, no extreme emotions or heartwrenching dialogues. The simplicity of it all suffices to make tears flow.
I have a very gawdy impression of south indian movies (Tamil & Telugu), especially the recent ones. Extreme emotion, extreme action, extreme romance,heavy dialogues, heavy heroines ;-) .
One reason for it can be the gawdy remakes that end up in Bollywood. I find them very crude.
But with movies like Sagara Sangamam,Rudraveena, SankaraBharanam, even Chitram Bhalare Wichitram, that impression is definitely altered. There are more such gems, and I would definitely like to view as many as possible.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Regression Testing
Well, most of you in IT out there know what we call Regression Testing:
One of the many definitions is here: ( courtesy webopedia.com)
Regression Testing:
The selective retesting of a software system that has been modified to ensure that any bugs have been fixed and that no other previously working functions have failed as a result of the reparations and that newly added features have not created problems with previous versions of the software. Also referred to as verification testing, regression testing is initiated after a programmer has attempted to fix a recognized problem or has added source code to a program that may have inadvertently introduced errors. It is a quality control measure to ensure that the newly modified code still complies with its specified requirements and that unmodified code has not been affected by the maintenance activity.
Lets not get into the technicalities.
I was reminded of this term when I was watching a promo for some soap (which will definitely continue for generations together) to be coming up (or already running?) on a very popular channel.
Here are a few of the promos:
1. A kurta clad grandpa is on the beach with his 2 grandchildren. He pampers his grandson and the granddaughter is shown all crushed, as a pitiful score plays in the background and the lil gal is 'heard' thinking alound something on the lines of '..can't girls also bring pride and fame to the family name ......'
2. A couple with their two daughters is at a Durga-Ma temple praying to be blessed with a son, and the 2 small daughters look on. Again the pitiful score, and the elder of the 2 daughters 'thinks' aloud , 'Why are they praying for a son to you Ma, after all you also are somebody's daughter'
3. A daughter prances into the living room with her result sheet, and announces her plans to study further. Promptly the parents declare their wedding plans for her saying they can't afford spending more on her education. Soon after her brother comes with his results, and he is gifted with bike keys - the pitiful score and a sullen looking daughter.
There are more such gems .. but puhleeez whats going on? Soaps sell and there are buyers for it, but to what extent would one go to churn out forthy stuff like this?
There is one more such outrageous soap where the prim trim and spic n span attired dulhan is unaccepted and toutured at her sasural and not favored by her husband for being.. hold your breath - illiterate! WHOA! Whats that!!!!!!!!
( I mean had she just spent one tenth of her time attending evening schools than doing the rounds at the parlour and spending countless hours day dreaming about her would-be-who-won't-accept-her)
Vampish sis-in-laws and conspiring daughter-in-laws, coy chachijis and orthodox bas almost seem welcome after such regressing themes!
Unable to make out any logic out of such themes ( I know I should not even bother with the 'L' of logic when dealing with these things) - I tag them as a way of regression testing the society.
There were ( and still are) bugs like discrimination and treating women as weaklings in society since a long long time. Even in the 21st century, efforts are still on to fix them as much as possible.
And now we are doing a round of regression testing using these themes as test cases. If people are not getting outraged at it - bug fix failed. If outraged and bewildered - bug fix is a resounding success!!!!
So try and get as many people as possible outraged and that will get you closer to fix the bug somehow.
I know its quite corny a statement and quite poor a comparison- but I just felt hapless looking at the promos!
You can say its an attempt to make sense out of the senseless!
One of the many definitions is here: ( courtesy webopedia.com)
Regression Testing:
The selective retesting of a software system that has been modified to ensure that any bugs have been fixed and that no other previously working functions have failed as a result of the reparations and that newly added features have not created problems with previous versions of the software. Also referred to as verification testing, regression testing is initiated after a programmer has attempted to fix a recognized problem or has added source code to a program that may have inadvertently introduced errors. It is a quality control measure to ensure that the newly modified code still complies with its specified requirements and that unmodified code has not been affected by the maintenance activity.
Lets not get into the technicalities.
I was reminded of this term when I was watching a promo for some soap (which will definitely continue for generations together) to be coming up (or already running?) on a very popular channel.
Here are a few of the promos:
1. A kurta clad grandpa is on the beach with his 2 grandchildren. He pampers his grandson and the granddaughter is shown all crushed, as a pitiful score plays in the background and the lil gal is 'heard' thinking alound something on the lines of '..can't girls also bring pride and fame to the family name ......'
2. A couple with their two daughters is at a Durga-Ma temple praying to be blessed with a son, and the 2 small daughters look on. Again the pitiful score, and the elder of the 2 daughters 'thinks' aloud , 'Why are they praying for a son to you Ma, after all you also are somebody's daughter'
3. A daughter prances into the living room with her result sheet, and announces her plans to study further. Promptly the parents declare their wedding plans for her saying they can't afford spending more on her education. Soon after her brother comes with his results, and he is gifted with bike keys - the pitiful score and a sullen looking daughter.
There are more such gems .. but puhleeez whats going on? Soaps sell and there are buyers for it, but to what extent would one go to churn out forthy stuff like this?
There is one more such outrageous soap where the prim trim and spic n span attired dulhan is unaccepted and toutured at her sasural and not favored by her husband for being.. hold your breath - illiterate! WHOA! Whats that!!!!!!!!
( I mean had she just spent one tenth of her time attending evening schools than doing the rounds at the parlour and spending countless hours day dreaming about her would-be-who-won't-accept-her)
Vampish sis-in-laws and conspiring daughter-in-laws, coy chachijis and orthodox bas almost seem welcome after such regressing themes!
Unable to make out any logic out of such themes ( I know I should not even bother with the 'L' of logic when dealing with these things) - I tag them as a way of regression testing the society.
There were ( and still are) bugs like discrimination and treating women as weaklings in society since a long long time. Even in the 21st century, efforts are still on to fix them as much as possible.
And now we are doing a round of regression testing using these themes as test cases. If people are not getting outraged at it - bug fix failed. If outraged and bewildered - bug fix is a resounding success!!!!
So try and get as many people as possible outraged and that will get you closer to fix the bug somehow.
I know its quite corny a statement and quite poor a comparison- but I just felt hapless looking at the promos!
You can say its an attempt to make sense out of the senseless!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
2 of 6 Rule by Scott Adams
I came across a post on another blog, which quoted Scott Adams' observation about comics being funny.
Since it involves both my favourites - Bill Waterson ( C n H) and Scott Adams (Dilbert),
am posting it here as - is, with due credit to Kunal - from whose post I came across this piece by Scott Adams' :
Kunal wrote:
"......And while we are on Calvin & Hobbes, take a look at this post by Dilbert creator Scott Adams in which he disects the humour in C & H. "
And then he put Scott Adams' Quote:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The core of humor is what I call the 2-of-6 rule. In order for something to be funny, you need at least two of the following elements:
Cute (as in kids and animals)
Naughty
Bizarre
Clever
Recognizable (You’ve been there)
Cruel
I invented this rule, but you can check for yourself that whenever something is funny it follows the rule. And when something isn’t, it doesn’t. One of the reasons comics are such a popular form of humor is that they often get the cute part automatically. Calvin and Hobbes is widely considered the best comic ever, but the few times it featured the parents doing the main action, it fell flat. Whenever it combined Calvin and Hobbes (both exceedingly cute), with some witty dialog (clever), a dangerous wagon ride (cruel), Calvin acting like a typical kid (recognizable), and thinking about adult philosophy (bizarre) it fired on 5-of-6 humor elements, which is virtually unheard of.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thinking of it, this is sooooo very true!
Since it involves both my favourites - Bill Waterson ( C n H) and Scott Adams (Dilbert),
am posting it here as - is, with due credit to Kunal - from whose post I came across this piece by Scott Adams' :
Kunal wrote:
"......And while we are on Calvin & Hobbes, take a look at this post by Dilbert creator Scott Adams in which he disects the humour in C & H. "
And then he put Scott Adams' Quote:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The core of humor is what I call the 2-of-6 rule. In order for something to be funny, you need at least two of the following elements:
Cute (as in kids and animals)
Naughty
Bizarre
Clever
Recognizable (You’ve been there)
Cruel
I invented this rule, but you can check for yourself that whenever something is funny it follows the rule. And when something isn’t, it doesn’t. One of the reasons comics are such a popular form of humor is that they often get the cute part automatically. Calvin and Hobbes is widely considered the best comic ever, but the few times it featured the parents doing the main action, it fell flat. Whenever it combined Calvin and Hobbes (both exceedingly cute), with some witty dialog (clever), a dangerous wagon ride (cruel), Calvin acting like a typical kid (recognizable), and thinking about adult philosophy (bizarre) it fired on 5-of-6 humor elements, which is virtually unheard of.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thinking of it, this is sooooo very true!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Breakfast Time!
While watching a Tropicana Juice Ad, I noticed the song that plays in the background..for the first time.
Its the Dean Martin (with Helen O'Conolle) track and its soooooooo cute!
Here is how it goes..
(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Boiled or fried
(D) I'm satisfied as long as I get my kiss
(H) How do you like your toast in the morning
(D) I like mine with a hug
(H) Dark or light
(D) the world's all right as long as I get my hug
(D) I've got to have my love in the morning
(H) Or the rest of my day is positively mayhem
(D) I'm a regular monster
(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Up or down
(D) I'll never frown eggs can be almost bliss
(D) Just as long as I get my kiss
A lovely way to start the day.. ain't it?
Have a gr8 day ahead! :-)
PS: I've just made another discovery ..Dean Martin rocks! The lyrics to most of his songs is very simple and very very sweet! Wish I had bothered to notice earlier.
Its the Dean Martin (with Helen O'Conolle) track and its soooooooo cute!
Here is how it goes..
(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Boiled or fried
(D) I'm satisfied as long as I get my kiss
(H) How do you like your toast in the morning
(D) I like mine with a hug
(H) Dark or light
(D) the world's all right as long as I get my hug
(D) I've got to have my love in the morning
(H) Or the rest of my day is positively mayhem
(D) I'm a regular monster
(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Up or down
(D) I'll never frown eggs can be almost bliss
(D) Just as long as I get my kiss
A lovely way to start the day.. ain't it?
Have a gr8 day ahead! :-)
PS: I've just made another discovery ..Dean Martin rocks! The lyrics to most of his songs is very simple and very very sweet! Wish I had bothered to notice earlier.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Sant Kabeer
I picked a few of these on the net: (courtesy Shayri.com)
I love the pieces which are uncomplicated to read but have a profund meaning..
Rather than those which have profound (almost 10 pound heavy) words AND profund meanings! :-)
Sant Kabeer ke dohe ..these are eternal masterpieces epitomising the humble yet unmatchable genius of this earthy saint!
The wisdom in these words says everything.
I have tried to translate the dohas ( verses) in english.
Dukh mein simran sab karen, sukh mein karay na koye
Jo sukh mein simran karay, to dukh kahay hoye
( Every one remembers Him at the time of grief, but not in happiness.
If one remembers Him through happiness, grief will never be! )
Jaise til mein tail hai, jyon chakmak mein aag,
Tera saayin tujh mein hai, tu jaag sake to jaag.
( The way sesame seeds have oil in them, and stones can spark fire,
Your God (strength?) lies withing you, awaken it if you can! )
Dheere dheere ray mana dheeray sub kuch hoye,
Maali sainche sau ghada, ritu aaye phal hoye.
(Keep patience oh mind, and every thing will happen,
The Gardener waters with 100 pitchers, but fruits bear only when the season comes!)
Kabira Khada bazaar mein maange sub ki khair
Na kahu se dosti na kahu se bair.
(Kabeer stands (at the market) and prays for everyone's well being.
No one is a friend neither is anyone an enemy)
Bura jo dekhan mein chala, bura na milya koi,
Jo maan khoja aapna to mujh say bura na koi
(When I started to seek evil outside, I didn't find any,
But when I looked within, there was no greater evil than myself! )
Aisee vani boliye, man ka aapa khoye,
Apna taan sheetal kare, auran ko sukh hoye.
(Speak a tongue which loses one's self,
The speaker is at peace and also pleases others.)
Jaati na poocho saadhu ki, pooch lijiye gyaan
Mol karo talwar ki padi rehen jo mayaan.
(Don't seek a wise man's caste, seek his wisdom,
Value a sword and not its sheath.)
PS: Pls don't mind my lousy translations, no other language can match the exact meaning.
I love the pieces which are uncomplicated to read but have a profund meaning..
Rather than those which have profound (almost 10 pound heavy) words AND profund meanings! :-)
Sant Kabeer ke dohe ..these are eternal masterpieces epitomising the humble yet unmatchable genius of this earthy saint!
The wisdom in these words says everything.
I have tried to translate the dohas ( verses) in english.
Dukh mein simran sab karen, sukh mein karay na koye
Jo sukh mein simran karay, to dukh kahay hoye
( Every one remembers Him at the time of grief, but not in happiness.
If one remembers Him through happiness, grief will never be! )
Jaise til mein tail hai, jyon chakmak mein aag,
Tera saayin tujh mein hai, tu jaag sake to jaag.
( The way sesame seeds have oil in them, and stones can spark fire,
Your God (strength?) lies withing you, awaken it if you can! )
Dheere dheere ray mana dheeray sub kuch hoye,
Maali sainche sau ghada, ritu aaye phal hoye.
(Keep patience oh mind, and every thing will happen,
The Gardener waters with 100 pitchers, but fruits bear only when the season comes!)
Kabira Khada bazaar mein maange sub ki khair
Na kahu se dosti na kahu se bair.
(Kabeer stands (at the market) and prays for everyone's well being.
No one is a friend neither is anyone an enemy)
Bura jo dekhan mein chala, bura na milya koi,
Jo maan khoja aapna to mujh say bura na koi
(When I started to seek evil outside, I didn't find any,
But when I looked within, there was no greater evil than myself! )
Aisee vani boliye, man ka aapa khoye,
Apna taan sheetal kare, auran ko sukh hoye.
(Speak a tongue which loses one's self,
The speaker is at peace and also pleases others.)
Jaati na poocho saadhu ki, pooch lijiye gyaan
Mol karo talwar ki padi rehen jo mayaan.
(Don't seek a wise man's caste, seek his wisdom,
Value a sword and not its sheath.)
PS: Pls don't mind my lousy translations, no other language can match the exact meaning.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Des Mere..
As corny as it may sound.. when you are away from India, you don't feel homesick .. you feel homeland-sick!
I see the dull grey rains in London, on streets crowded with people and the way it contrasts a rainy day in India (anywhere in India these days!) hits me hard.
Here it hardly pours when you are out in the open. It pours late night, early morning, may be at an odd hour in the day when you are in office .. but never at the time when you are in the open.
Well.. if you are out on a not-so-sunny-day weekend, then it might rain in all possible ways.. drizzles, downpour, showers etc etc.. but not long enought to leave you like a wet puppy shivering its way to the shelter!
Coming back to the weekedays, in Liverpool Strt atleast..you are hardly in the open. The rail station is as prim as a mall, ( infact .. it IS a mall. 3 storeyed, with range of things from hot pasties to branded vest -n-bow tie suits..you get everything!) and it dosen't leak.
The moment your train enters the station, till you leave the station, you are covered.
You have a walkway which leads you to a road, and it has a metal canopy all the way.. so even if you do leave the station, it takes a couple of mins to get into the open. The moment the canopy ends, well dressed office goers (and thats the mildest version of it.. Londoners dressed for office are a show! Just amazing variety of formal clothes, shoes, bags..even umbrellas! ) open their umbrellas and dash to the nearest building, which mazes through the streets and leads you to your building without getting you drenched!
At the reception, you have carpets almost all over, and "slippery floor" boards propped up. ;-)You have a plastic-cover dispenser for your umbrellas.
There's hardly a soul around who is wet enough to testify the rains outside!
When I finally reach my desk in the office, I think of a(n) (average .. not the hell raising kinda rainy) rainy day in India. You leave with a raincoat / umbrella, which hardly helps. By the time you get into the bus, your feet are wet and pink. The umbrella is dripping with water. You avoid a window seat because water trickles on the seat. People in the bus avoid you because they don't want a wet cat next to them. :-)
You look out on the road, and there are vehicles shining bright with the unpaid-uncalled-for wash they'd just had. They whoosh through puddles of water.
Tiny raincoat clad figures tow with their hurrying parents.
Mummy-types ladies gently lift their sarees a a wee bit to avoid them from sloshing in the puddles, and balance an office bag at the shoulder.
Cycle-wallas with colorful polythene bags covering their heads and tucked behind their ears, appear to be floating on the waters.
Police-mamas with bright yellow raincoats try to make sense out of the mad traffic.
A scooter which refuses to start is cursed and kicked by its owner.
Youngsters don't give a damn to the rains and soak up.
A few shivering souls wait at covered bus stops, under trees, in front of shops.
A few crows shake themselves free of water every few mins on the cables running overhead.
Pavements are shining, trees have a new shade of green...
It seems like there is a different world attached with each of this scene. The city is so alive!
As you shiver with the cool breeze, you look forward to reaching home, to a steaming cup of tea, you look forward to tucking your feet underneath you and curling up in the sofa, discussing mundane stuff with family as everyone arrives home one by one with a different rain that soaked them up! :-)
As the warm picture of a family returning home floats in your mind, there is a lump in your throat and you actually long to get drenched in that rain that falls in India!
I see the dull grey rains in London, on streets crowded with people and the way it contrasts a rainy day in India (anywhere in India these days!) hits me hard.
Here it hardly pours when you are out in the open. It pours late night, early morning, may be at an odd hour in the day when you are in office .. but never at the time when you are in the open.
Well.. if you are out on a not-so-sunny-day weekend, then it might rain in all possible ways.. drizzles, downpour, showers etc etc.. but not long enought to leave you like a wet puppy shivering its way to the shelter!
Coming back to the weekedays, in Liverpool Strt atleast..you are hardly in the open. The rail station is as prim as a mall, ( infact .. it IS a mall. 3 storeyed, with range of things from hot pasties to branded vest -n-bow tie suits..you get everything!) and it dosen't leak.
The moment your train enters the station, till you leave the station, you are covered.
You have a walkway which leads you to a road, and it has a metal canopy all the way.. so even if you do leave the station, it takes a couple of mins to get into the open. The moment the canopy ends, well dressed office goers (and thats the mildest version of it.. Londoners dressed for office are a show! Just amazing variety of formal clothes, shoes, bags..even umbrellas! ) open their umbrellas and dash to the nearest building, which mazes through the streets and leads you to your building without getting you drenched!
At the reception, you have carpets almost all over, and "slippery floor" boards propped up. ;-)You have a plastic-cover dispenser for your umbrellas.
There's hardly a soul around who is wet enough to testify the rains outside!
When I finally reach my desk in the office, I think of a(n) (average .. not the hell raising kinda rainy) rainy day in India. You leave with a raincoat / umbrella, which hardly helps. By the time you get into the bus, your feet are wet and pink. The umbrella is dripping with water. You avoid a window seat because water trickles on the seat. People in the bus avoid you because they don't want a wet cat next to them. :-)
You look out on the road, and there are vehicles shining bright with the unpaid-uncalled-for wash they'd just had. They whoosh through puddles of water.
Tiny raincoat clad figures tow with their hurrying parents.
Mummy-types ladies gently lift their sarees a a wee bit to avoid them from sloshing in the puddles, and balance an office bag at the shoulder.
Cycle-wallas with colorful polythene bags covering their heads and tucked behind their ears, appear to be floating on the waters.
Police-mamas with bright yellow raincoats try to make sense out of the mad traffic.
A scooter which refuses to start is cursed and kicked by its owner.
Youngsters don't give a damn to the rains and soak up.
A few shivering souls wait at covered bus stops, under trees, in front of shops.
A few crows shake themselves free of water every few mins on the cables running overhead.
Pavements are shining, trees have a new shade of green...
It seems like there is a different world attached with each of this scene. The city is so alive!
As you shiver with the cool breeze, you look forward to reaching home, to a steaming cup of tea, you look forward to tucking your feet underneath you and curling up in the sofa, discussing mundane stuff with family as everyone arrives home one by one with a different rain that soaked them up! :-)
As the warm picture of a family returning home floats in your mind, there is a lump in your throat and you actually long to get drenched in that rain that falls in India!
Monday, September 04, 2006
New Looks
Well, after a long Hibernate Session (pun intended) am back to blog.
And back to blog about food! :-)
First.. let me pay my respect and awe for Google!
There lies a VAST un-explored treasure of all the information you want about averything!
And I have noticed this so many times..
This time Google bowled me over, when I tried searching for a recipe.. for Ukdiche Modak.
( A very lame english name for this can be sweet stuffed rice dumplings! :-S )
And Bingo!
Google asked Did you mean: ukadiche modak ?
Thats really sweet of Google! ;-) :-D
Ok.. that was all that I wanted to write about food in this blog!:-D
As the title says, I am talking about new looks.
Well, I have managed to get my hair cut here in London ! Ta- Da!
(and also managed not to feel guilty about the price I paid for it!)
After weeks of deliberation, resolve, grit and patience I finally managed to take the decision and stick to it till the weekend.
I took an appointment with a well known unisex salon here .. in the commercial capital of London.
I fumbled and tripped my way to the appointment desk, confirmed the appointment and was at the chair for the next process.
After washing and conditioning my hair, this lady asked me in some german accented english if I was sure I wanted to keep them short!
'I loooove long hair, and my husband scold me for little hair' she said.
I was sooooo happie to hear bad english from a firang! ;-)
She had an ubiquitous gujju assistant and she convinced my white hair stylist [ white is for the stylist, not for my hair.. ok? x-( ] that I was Ok with it.
'Are you sure?' she asked me again.
I felt a bit bad about the hair I was going to lose, and asked how the cut will finally look.
The Gujju had no idea of what my white lady had in mind, and asked her to explain.
'I cut, keep layers.'
Then she plucked a strand of my hair.
'This much 1 layer. Then 1 more little big. Then big, big, big. And 3 layer.'
And all the while she plucked strands of my wet hair, and held certain lengths between her fingers, and brandished the scissors in the other hand.
I waited with baited breath, praying that the scissors won't actually rush and do the act before she intended to!
'And near face, small, and back Vee'
At this she formed a 'V' with her hands to show what a 'V' is.
(As if I thought that an alphabet that sounds like 'Vee' in fact does look like a 'B' or a 'T')
'See my hair. Layer, Layer but small. Your layer..big'.
I looked at her hair.. or whatever was left of it.
It was streaked red, with a bunch still retaining the blonde color.
The hair near the face were cut to some decent uniformity on both the sides, but the hair at the back looked like whoever was cutting her hair had remembered an important errand, and had hurried through half of it, and left the rest to 'rest in peace' !
I still had some hope left in me, for a decent hair cut.
I tried to discuss with her that though I wanted my hair short, the shortest I was willing to go was this much and longest I would permit to stay was that much and that I should be able to tie them up when I want without random strands escaping the clips etc etc etc..
At the end of this conversation, we both had a pained expression on our faces .. no one in the hair-salon world understood us!
Sigh!
We had reached a point of 'you-return-but-not-me'.
She was sure the cut she had in mind suited me, and I was sure that I wanted my hair cut but not by her!
'Its ok. Tension maat lena Ma'm. Woh theek karegi' - Gujju assistant came on desi track.
I was not willing to go through the entire process of 'make your mind for a hair cut - break it - make it again - discuss with friends and family - get encouraged by them to go ahead - still think twice about the loss of hair - consult colleagues - make up mind yet again - take an appointment - stick to it' again.
So I left the fate of my hair in the dainty hands of the white lady ( there was nothing lady-like about her though.)
I amused myself at the chair by looking at locks of soft, black, straight, shiny, beautiful hair fall at my feet, (wonder how things that we lose suddenly appear very important and beautiful) by hearing to the snipping of the scissors, the whooshing of sprays and occassional tugs and pulls as the lady bent my head up, down, left, right till the water from my wet hair trickled (and tickled) down my ears, and neck and chin.
I never stole a look at the mirrors which appeared to surround me, almost close in upon me,tempting me to take a look at myself.
'There you are'.
'Beauty!'
My white lady said.
With a beating heart I looked into the mirror.
And almost burst into tears .... of great relief.
She had done a fabulous job.
I was seeing what I wanted to see, and the hair was perfectly the way it was supposed to be!
A wave of warmth and gratitude swept over me.
I beamed at my white lady and exclaimed my happiness and thanked her for a splendid job.
She beamed in return, and the gujju assistant smiled on us.
The hair-salon world had suddenly became a world of harmony, peace and mutual understanding!
In a state of relief and bliss, I boarded the train home, and in the same ethreal state reached home.
My husband waited anxiously for me to produce the bill.
The figure was a relief for him too. He was dreading to see the worst!
So this entire hair-cut, new-look business ended into an happy affair with one and all living happily ever after! (except the hair I lost! )
And back to blog about food! :-)
First.. let me pay my respect and awe for Google!
There lies a VAST un-explored treasure of all the information you want about averything!
And I have noticed this so many times..
This time Google bowled me over, when I tried searching for a recipe.. for Ukdiche Modak.
( A very lame english name for this can be sweet stuffed rice dumplings! :-S )
And Bingo!
Google asked Did you mean: ukadiche modak ?
Thats really sweet of Google! ;-) :-D
Ok.. that was all that I wanted to write about food in this blog!:-D
As the title says, I am talking about new looks.
Well, I have managed to get my hair cut here in London ! Ta- Da!
(and also managed not to feel guilty about the price I paid for it!)
After weeks of deliberation, resolve, grit and patience I finally managed to take the decision and stick to it till the weekend.
I took an appointment with a well known unisex salon here .. in the commercial capital of London.
I fumbled and tripped my way to the appointment desk, confirmed the appointment and was at the chair for the next process.
After washing and conditioning my hair, this lady asked me in some german accented english if I was sure I wanted to keep them short!
'I loooove long hair, and my husband scold me for little hair' she said.
I was sooooo happie to hear bad english from a firang! ;-)
She had an ubiquitous gujju assistant and she convinced my white hair stylist [ white is for the stylist, not for my hair.. ok? x-( ] that I was Ok with it.
'Are you sure?' she asked me again.
I felt a bit bad about the hair I was going to lose, and asked how the cut will finally look.
The Gujju had no idea of what my white lady had in mind, and asked her to explain.
'I cut, keep layers.'
Then she plucked a strand of my hair.
'This much 1 layer. Then 1 more little big. Then big, big, big. And 3 layer.'
And all the while she plucked strands of my wet hair, and held certain lengths between her fingers, and brandished the scissors in the other hand.
I waited with baited breath, praying that the scissors won't actually rush and do the act before she intended to!
'And near face, small, and back Vee'
At this she formed a 'V' with her hands to show what a 'V' is.
(As if I thought that an alphabet that sounds like 'Vee' in fact does look like a 'B' or a 'T')
'See my hair. Layer, Layer but small. Your layer..big'.
I looked at her hair.. or whatever was left of it.
It was streaked red, with a bunch still retaining the blonde color.
The hair near the face were cut to some decent uniformity on both the sides, but the hair at the back looked like whoever was cutting her hair had remembered an important errand, and had hurried through half of it, and left the rest to 'rest in peace' !
I still had some hope left in me, for a decent hair cut.
I tried to discuss with her that though I wanted my hair short, the shortest I was willing to go was this much and longest I would permit to stay was that much and that I should be able to tie them up when I want without random strands escaping the clips etc etc etc..
At the end of this conversation, we both had a pained expression on our faces .. no one in the hair-salon world understood us!
Sigh!
We had reached a point of 'you-return-but-not-me'.
She was sure the cut she had in mind suited me, and I was sure that I wanted my hair cut but not by her!
'Its ok. Tension maat lena Ma'm. Woh theek karegi' - Gujju assistant came on desi track.
I was not willing to go through the entire process of 'make your mind for a hair cut - break it - make it again - discuss with friends and family - get encouraged by them to go ahead - still think twice about the loss of hair - consult colleagues - make up mind yet again - take an appointment - stick to it' again.
So I left the fate of my hair in the dainty hands of the white lady ( there was nothing lady-like about her though.)
I amused myself at the chair by looking at locks of soft, black, straight, shiny, beautiful hair fall at my feet, (wonder how things that we lose suddenly appear very important and beautiful) by hearing to the snipping of the scissors, the whooshing of sprays and occassional tugs and pulls as the lady bent my head up, down, left, right till the water from my wet hair trickled (and tickled) down my ears, and neck and chin.
I never stole a look at the mirrors which appeared to surround me, almost close in upon me,tempting me to take a look at myself.
'There you are'.
'Beauty!'
My white lady said.
With a beating heart I looked into the mirror.
And almost burst into tears .... of great relief.
She had done a fabulous job.
I was seeing what I wanted to see, and the hair was perfectly the way it was supposed to be!
A wave of warmth and gratitude swept over me.
I beamed at my white lady and exclaimed my happiness and thanked her for a splendid job.
She beamed in return, and the gujju assistant smiled on us.
The hair-salon world had suddenly became a world of harmony, peace and mutual understanding!
In a state of relief and bliss, I boarded the train home, and in the same ethreal state reached home.
My husband waited anxiously for me to produce the bill.
The figure was a relief for him too. He was dreading to see the worst!
So this entire hair-cut, new-look business ended into an happy affair with one and all living happily ever after! (except the hair I lost! )
Friday, April 28, 2006
Iiiishhhh....
Hold On. before you think its about the Devdas '...ishhhh' song that made Shreya Ghosal the talk of tinsel town.. its not that.
Its about English . Yeah its the 'ish' in english and other words in English that I want to talk about.
I find all the languages very fascinating. If you are speaking with someone, and suddenly you start hearing stuff as a third person and a small thread runs at the back of your mind thinking who decided that a wooden plank with 4 legs will be called table, and when you abruptly blow wind outta your nose, and close your eyes and jerk and wink all at the same time.. that bunch of actions is called a sneeze! You go Wow !!! in that same thread. And another thread starts.. why if we find something amazing, its WOW?? How come everyone in the world understands a WOW? who decided that? Why not ZOZ? why not .......
Ok. More about this language facination in detail, in some other post.
There are words in English. (and I believe the word 'English' as well, for that matter British, Polish, Irish .....)
These words end with 'ish'. Like xyz-ish. And they mean almost xyz. Like xyz. Kinda xyz.
Let me explain.
Sheepish. He smiled a sheepish smile....
Foolish. All knew his act was foolish..
Devilish. A devilish grin spread on his face..
(I am not sure if Sheepish means like a sheep.. but imagining a sheepish smile, and a sheep smiling.. kinda strikes a parallel.. ;-) )
Foolish definitely means like a fool, and devilish means like a devil. So when 'ish' is there, as in xyz-ish, then it might mean one of these: not exactly xyz, but like xyz, kinda xyz ..Ok I said that already.
In my college days, I came to know what a powerful thing this 'ish' is. And it was so very Okayish to use this ish in every possible bit of conversation.
English never generically gave these words for us to use, but we can pass some of these with the exact flavor that we want , to convey our message.
See these:
....The dress I bought the outher day is pinkish with a satinish feel...
( So I understand that the dress is kinda pink, but NOT pink per say and its feel is kinda satin but not satin per say! Perfect! )
..Ok then . See you there at sevenish today evening.
(So I understand that we are meeting aound 7, but definitely not at 7.00 )
The film was OK ish you know..
(So I understand that the film was not exactly okay, but pretty close to being okay! )
.... see that. That darkish lady with a roundish face? ...
(I think by now even you all got the hang of it, lady who is not exactly dark, but neither fair, and she has a face that is not exaclty round, but very close to round! )
We already have accepted words around like hellish (like hell) , bullish (like bull) and all.
But improvising with all possible adjectives and creating superlatives degrees of description with just 3 simple letters! thatz kinda greatish.
Well.. thats all about the post. Wanted to put this on paper (or in print you can say) atleast once. And am glad I did! :-)
Its about English . Yeah its the 'ish' in english and other words in English that I want to talk about.
I find all the languages very fascinating. If you are speaking with someone, and suddenly you start hearing stuff as a third person and a small thread runs at the back of your mind thinking who decided that a wooden plank with 4 legs will be called table, and when you abruptly blow wind outta your nose, and close your eyes and jerk and wink all at the same time.. that bunch of actions is called a sneeze! You go Wow !!! in that same thread. And another thread starts.. why if we find something amazing, its WOW?? How come everyone in the world understands a WOW? who decided that? Why not ZOZ? why not .......
Ok. More about this language facination in detail, in some other post.
There are words in English. (and I believe the word 'English' as well, for that matter British, Polish, Irish .....)
These words end with 'ish'. Like xyz-ish. And they mean almost xyz. Like xyz. Kinda xyz.
Let me explain.
Sheepish. He smiled a sheepish smile....
Foolish. All knew his act was foolish..
Devilish. A devilish grin spread on his face..
(I am not sure if Sheepish means like a sheep.. but imagining a sheepish smile, and a sheep smiling.. kinda strikes a parallel.. ;-) )
Foolish definitely means like a fool, and devilish means like a devil. So when 'ish' is there, as in xyz-ish, then it might mean one of these: not exactly xyz, but like xyz, kinda xyz ..Ok I said that already.
In my college days, I came to know what a powerful thing this 'ish' is. And it was so very Okayish to use this ish in every possible bit of conversation.
English never generically gave these words for us to use, but we can pass some of these with the exact flavor that we want , to convey our message.
See these:
....The dress I bought the outher day is pinkish with a satinish feel...
( So I understand that the dress is kinda pink, but NOT pink per say and its feel is kinda satin but not satin per say! Perfect! )
..Ok then . See you there at sevenish today evening.
(So I understand that we are meeting aound 7, but definitely not at 7.00 )
The film was OK ish you know..
(So I understand that the film was not exactly okay, but pretty close to being okay! )
.... see that. That darkish lady with a roundish face? ...
(I think by now even you all got the hang of it, lady who is not exactly dark, but neither fair, and she has a face that is not exaclty round, but very close to round! )
We already have accepted words around like hellish (like hell) , bullish (like bull) and all.
But improvising with all possible adjectives and creating superlatives degrees of description with just 3 simple letters! thatz kinda greatish.
Well.. thats all about the post. Wanted to put this on paper (or in print you can say) atleast once. And am glad I did! :-)
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Love...
he sees her in the garden,
and his heart skips a beat..
not a word he speaks, not a gesture he makes..
we know thats how they met,
all they know is LOVE..
she sees him at the grounds,
and the chains at his feet...
not an eyelid she bats, not a gasp she utters..
we know she knows the truth..
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her at the court,
and his heart fills with joy..
not a verdict he hears, no fear he feels..
we know he is guilty..
all they know is LOVE..
she sees him near the van,
and pain flows from her eyes..
not a word they speak, not a hug they share..
we know court gave him life,
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her standing there,
and knows she trusts he is true,
not a thing he desires, no justice he heeds..
we know he is wronged,
all they know is LOVE..
she sees them take him away,
and her world ceases to exist..
not a word she speaks, not a tear she sheds..
we know she is in shock,
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her collapse to the ground,
and knows its time to go..
no pain he feels, no wishes he has..
we know they are no more,
all they know is LOVE...
she awaits him at the garden,
and her heart skips a beat..
not a moment they are apart, no force keeps them away..
we know souls meet in heaven,
all they know is LOVE..
-Snehal
(phew! that was pretty melanchony..once and for all i guess.. these kinda poems are hard to write.. :-) )
and his heart skips a beat..
not a word he speaks, not a gesture he makes..
we know thats how they met,
all they know is LOVE..
she sees him at the grounds,
and the chains at his feet...
not an eyelid she bats, not a gasp she utters..
we know she knows the truth..
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her at the court,
and his heart fills with joy..
not a verdict he hears, no fear he feels..
we know he is guilty..
all they know is LOVE..
she sees him near the van,
and pain flows from her eyes..
not a word they speak, not a hug they share..
we know court gave him life,
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her standing there,
and knows she trusts he is true,
not a thing he desires, no justice he heeds..
we know he is wronged,
all they know is LOVE..
she sees them take him away,
and her world ceases to exist..
not a word she speaks, not a tear she sheds..
we know she is in shock,
all they know is LOVE..
he sees her collapse to the ground,
and knows its time to go..
no pain he feels, no wishes he has..
we know they are no more,
all they know is LOVE...
she awaits him at the garden,
and her heart skips a beat..
not a moment they are apart, no force keeps them away..
we know souls meet in heaven,
all they know is LOVE..
-Snehal
(phew! that was pretty melanchony..once and for all i guess.. these kinda poems are hard to write.. :-) )
Friday, March 31, 2006
Series Nostalgia 2: Books and things they bring with them..
I came across this lovely post Memories of Calcutta Book Fair by Arnab of greatbong and was really amazed by the number of parallels I could draw between what he said in the blog and what I have to say about my rendezvous with books.
I come from the beautiful and now-a-days-much-talked-about (for the right reasons like being touted as a pro-IT space to consider) city of Pune, which is teemed as the educational and cultural capital of Maharashtra.. (in the lines of Surat being the Manchester of India, Pune is Oxford of India..)
Pune hosts and nurtures a lot of activities pertaining to art, literature, music.. The one which we frequented initially with our parents when we were too young and ignorant to enjoy it , and later made regular and dedicated trips with friends, was Sawai Gandharva. It's a musical fiesta , a musical festival of hindustani classical and is an absolute delight. Winter nights, filled with classical extravaganza coming from the greatest themselves, few 'your-kinda' friends, bitting cold, steaming (watery) coffee in hands .. it is pure magic.
ok. But the topic was about book fairs. Pune has lots of them.My parents always ensured that I got more than my fair share of books to read. Mom used to bring home books (mostly marathi books of renowned authors, and translations of english classics) regularly from her office library and used to hand them over to me ..I still remember the sheer delight of recieving the huge marathi translation of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women by none other than the veteran Shanta Shelke. Reading the un-abridged classic later is another cherished memory.I love huge books. One reason is that I can enjoy reading more, for a longer time. With books that are really interesting but never cross 200 pages.. am kinda disappointed. Ruminating over a book you loved is one thing, but the process of reading it is a different pleasure. And with lesser pages, its a short lived joy.
Dad used to frequent book fairs and public libraries. On thursdays (which was his weekly holiday) we both used to ride down to Gokhale hall library.
Its an old library and the striking memory I carry about it is the wooden staircase, the pin-drop silence, ocassional shuffling of news papers, the echoes of the sound of wooden chairs being pushed back on wooden flooring, as an ocassional few would get up from the reading area and leave.
In the huge balcony, there would be wooden stands, each one carrying 2 news papers on either side. The paper would be put opened up at the center with a wooden plank running at the vertical central fold, so that people can stand in front of these stands and browse through one newspaper at a time.Inside the library, there were wooden chairs around wooden tables, and few chairs with a foldable book-rest. I used to wait to get one such chair. It was a novelty at that time.
Near the librarian's desk, there used to be a basket with magzines. Some times a stack of old Reader's Digest, and children's comics. (Till I came across japanese Manga, I used to think comics are always children's comics.. Not anymore)
I used to spend some minutes deciding which book to pick. If the lady behind the desk didn't object with a 'ssshuk, ssshuk..' I would pick up 2-3 at a time and sit at my choosen chair. The purpose of getting 2-3 books was two-fold. One, I didn't want to lose my chair, and another, I didn't want to lose my choosen books! :-)
I used to get totally absorbed in reading or browsing through the books. Suddenly I would remember that I am here with my dad, and frantically look around for him.
He generally would be at the balcony, or at the table with some magzine.
The silence at the library always induced an urge to disrupt it. :-) I would trot around dragging my feet to make as much noise as I could dare. I would hop in and out of the chair. I would call for my dad from the balcony. But one disapproving look from my dad, and I would be back to reading books. :-)
Ok. I remember I started with book fairs.
The most common ones were at the Acharya Atre Sabhaghruha, and at the Institute Of Engineers.
Atre Sabhagruha was very near to my mom's office. When there was a book fair, I used to be with dad. Atre sabhagruha is a small hall. Tables were put against the 4 walls and a few at the center of the hall. Mostly it would be marathi books and sometimes english as well. Rasik Sahitya, Navaneet Prakashan are the few publications I remember.I never bought marathi books when I was in school. I read a lot of them though. Thanks to the wonderful library my school had. My dad did buy me books about making sketches, painting, origami.. all the self help kinda books. And dictionaries. Lots of them. Oxford, Random house, Webster, Orient-Longman..
Institute of Engineers hosted bigger fairs. And had many national and international publications.When I was too young to really decide what I enjoyed reading more, the visual appeal of the books fascinated me.I used to love going through the encyclopedia - ChildCraft, WorlBooks. And the glossy hardbound books about wildlife photography.
And the biographies which had photographs interspersed between chapters.. clubbing together an era about the person's life. I used to look for these pages and just browse through all the photos.
The books about body building also interested me. :-D
Especially women body builders- there never used be any indian ladies.. all firang ones.. I found that quite amusing..and wierd.
I used to look for children's books which had pop-up pictures-the fairytale books definitely had these. And bedtime story books with lots of pictures.
I even used to thumb through the books teaching alphabets.. just for the pictures in it.
Books about ikebana, interior decoration, gardening, a book which had step by step pictorial instructions about the sailor knots .. I used to devour them all at the fair.
I never bothered about the content, the print. It was just pictures.
Later, when the words started interesting me more than the pictures, I would look for the size of the print.Generally Enid Blyton's books used to fit this bill. I adored her at one point. So much so that in my school years I internalised her work ;-) and my english teacher warned me to write more original stuff in essays and comprehensions! :-)
Archies comics was one more craze.Dad never encouraged comics. So buying any was out of question. I used to stand and read as many as possible. :-)
Somehow, the books my dad or mom got for me .. were the ones I used to love the most.. (till one point of time ofcourse.. :-) ). Dad, on one of his trips , got me a collection of Aesop's Fables. I loved it.. so much so that I had the tattered book with me till a few yrs ago. It had short stories (and a moral at the end, which I never bothered to read), generally depicting animals, birds, even insects at times, which spoke, discussed stuff, thought etc etc. It was all very fascinating to read.I read that book over and over again.. (and then the morals too started getting more meaningful and profund, for the short stories).
A few years down the lane, I started picking books on my own. My best friend, is an avid book worm.. and she led me into the wonderful world of books. She has very positively influenced my reading likes and dislikes.. in fact she introduced me to a lot of classics, which was a teritory I was kinda apprehencive to tread. I started with abridged versions .. Emma, Rebecca, Jane Iyre, Prisoner of Zenda, Tale of two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, Mill on the floss, Silas Marner, Adam Bede, Wuthering Heights, Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, Three Musketeers, Kim, Ivanove, Around the world in Eighty days..a huge assorted spree of book reading! Science fictions..War of the Worlds, Time Machine, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (not sure how many Leagues actually) , Journey to the center of the Earth..Issac Assimov short stories (LAter was hooked to the Foundation Series) , Mr Jayant Naralikar, Niranjan Ghate, Arun Sadhu (marathi authors)there was a whole new world opened up!
There used to be trivial reading as well.. 1 famous character was Faster Phene. We enjoyed reading it.. my book-worm friend and me used to buy these books too!
After a few more yrs, I started experimenting with different books. If I heard an author being discussed too often, I would make a point to read at least 2-3 books of that author, till I could decide for myself if I really enjoyed reading him/ her or not.
I used to pick books from British Council Library at random, and give it a try. One such book I picked during my engg days was by Sylvia Nasar. Nope, the author dosen't ring a bell I guess, but the title of the book does.. Its 'A Beautiful Mind' , biography of Mr. John Nash. And this was way before Russell Crowe's movie.
There were times when we read books bcoz they were 'in' :-). In my high school days, books like 'Brief History of Time' , 'Dancing woo-li principles','Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintainance', many of the Alvin Toffler books ('Future Shock', 'The Third Wave' ) were kinda 'hot'.
Being able to discuss them, thrash or appreciate them was kinda cool. :-)
So we all made it a point to read them.
Then came a time where all these contemporary fiction authors were read a lot. (Not sure what catergory to fit them into). Sidney Sheldon (read 2 , 3 books and never touched another book by him..), Aurthur Hailey, John Grisham, Jefferry Archer, Robin cook, Stephen King, Ayn Rand and all that. Some books were really good, some just passed the muster.
Then came again a classics wave. This time it was un-abridged versions. Jane Austen rode the wave. :-) It was more enjoyable, to delve into finer aspects of english.
P. G Woodehouse was 1 more such wave. You can never find another genius like him!
The journey continues.. there are tonnes of more books to read, and a life - time isn't enough to read them all.
These days, with work demanding more time, books are a bit side stepped.. but they can never go out. I am into picking up random titles these days. Cheaper by the dozen, Catch 22, Beloved, Surely You'er Joking Mr. Feynman, To Sir with Love.. just pick a well praised book and finish it off.
Each book gives a different pleasure to read. And the search for more continues...
P.S. My friend S mentioned quite rightly that I didn't mention dear ole Calvin and Hobbes!
Well rightly noted. Comics - Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin and Hobbes - Comics. Thats the equation for us! Bill Waterson gets all the kudos and bows and bravos for such an amazing creation!
I come from the beautiful and now-a-days-much-talked-about (for the right reasons like being touted as a pro-IT space to consider) city of Pune, which is teemed as the educational and cultural capital of Maharashtra.. (in the lines of Surat being the Manchester of India, Pune is Oxford of India..)
Pune hosts and nurtures a lot of activities pertaining to art, literature, music.. The one which we frequented initially with our parents when we were too young and ignorant to enjoy it , and later made regular and dedicated trips with friends, was Sawai Gandharva. It's a musical fiesta , a musical festival of hindustani classical and is an absolute delight. Winter nights, filled with classical extravaganza coming from the greatest themselves, few 'your-kinda' friends, bitting cold, steaming (watery) coffee in hands .. it is pure magic.
ok. But the topic was about book fairs. Pune has lots of them.My parents always ensured that I got more than my fair share of books to read. Mom used to bring home books (mostly marathi books of renowned authors, and translations of english classics) regularly from her office library and used to hand them over to me ..I still remember the sheer delight of recieving the huge marathi translation of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women by none other than the veteran Shanta Shelke. Reading the un-abridged classic later is another cherished memory.I love huge books. One reason is that I can enjoy reading more, for a longer time. With books that are really interesting but never cross 200 pages.. am kinda disappointed. Ruminating over a book you loved is one thing, but the process of reading it is a different pleasure. And with lesser pages, its a short lived joy.
Dad used to frequent book fairs and public libraries. On thursdays (which was his weekly holiday) we both used to ride down to Gokhale hall library.
Its an old library and the striking memory I carry about it is the wooden staircase, the pin-drop silence, ocassional shuffling of news papers, the echoes of the sound of wooden chairs being pushed back on wooden flooring, as an ocassional few would get up from the reading area and leave.
In the huge balcony, there would be wooden stands, each one carrying 2 news papers on either side. The paper would be put opened up at the center with a wooden plank running at the vertical central fold, so that people can stand in front of these stands and browse through one newspaper at a time.Inside the library, there were wooden chairs around wooden tables, and few chairs with a foldable book-rest. I used to wait to get one such chair. It was a novelty at that time.
Near the librarian's desk, there used to be a basket with magzines. Some times a stack of old Reader's Digest, and children's comics. (Till I came across japanese Manga, I used to think comics are always children's comics.. Not anymore)
I used to spend some minutes deciding which book to pick. If the lady behind the desk didn't object with a 'ssshuk, ssshuk..' I would pick up 2-3 at a time and sit at my choosen chair. The purpose of getting 2-3 books was two-fold. One, I didn't want to lose my chair, and another, I didn't want to lose my choosen books! :-)
I used to get totally absorbed in reading or browsing through the books. Suddenly I would remember that I am here with my dad, and frantically look around for him.
He generally would be at the balcony, or at the table with some magzine.
The silence at the library always induced an urge to disrupt it. :-) I would trot around dragging my feet to make as much noise as I could dare. I would hop in and out of the chair. I would call for my dad from the balcony. But one disapproving look from my dad, and I would be back to reading books. :-)
Ok. I remember I started with book fairs.
The most common ones were at the Acharya Atre Sabhaghruha, and at the Institute Of Engineers.
Atre Sabhagruha was very near to my mom's office. When there was a book fair, I used to be with dad. Atre sabhagruha is a small hall. Tables were put against the 4 walls and a few at the center of the hall. Mostly it would be marathi books and sometimes english as well. Rasik Sahitya, Navaneet Prakashan are the few publications I remember.I never bought marathi books when I was in school. I read a lot of them though. Thanks to the wonderful library my school had. My dad did buy me books about making sketches, painting, origami.. all the self help kinda books. And dictionaries. Lots of them. Oxford, Random house, Webster, Orient-Longman..
Institute of Engineers hosted bigger fairs. And had many national and international publications.When I was too young to really decide what I enjoyed reading more, the visual appeal of the books fascinated me.I used to love going through the encyclopedia - ChildCraft, WorlBooks. And the glossy hardbound books about wildlife photography.
And the biographies which had photographs interspersed between chapters.. clubbing together an era about the person's life. I used to look for these pages and just browse through all the photos.
The books about body building also interested me. :-D
Especially women body builders- there never used be any indian ladies.. all firang ones.. I found that quite amusing..and wierd.
I used to look for children's books which had pop-up pictures-the fairytale books definitely had these. And bedtime story books with lots of pictures.
I even used to thumb through the books teaching alphabets.. just for the pictures in it.
Books about ikebana, interior decoration, gardening, a book which had step by step pictorial instructions about the sailor knots .. I used to devour them all at the fair.
I never bothered about the content, the print. It was just pictures.
Later, when the words started interesting me more than the pictures, I would look for the size of the print.Generally Enid Blyton's books used to fit this bill. I adored her at one point. So much so that in my school years I internalised her work ;-) and my english teacher warned me to write more original stuff in essays and comprehensions! :-)
Archies comics was one more craze.Dad never encouraged comics. So buying any was out of question. I used to stand and read as many as possible. :-)
Somehow, the books my dad or mom got for me .. were the ones I used to love the most.. (till one point of time ofcourse.. :-) ). Dad, on one of his trips , got me a collection of Aesop's Fables. I loved it.. so much so that I had the tattered book with me till a few yrs ago. It had short stories (and a moral at the end, which I never bothered to read), generally depicting animals, birds, even insects at times, which spoke, discussed stuff, thought etc etc. It was all very fascinating to read.I read that book over and over again.. (and then the morals too started getting more meaningful and profund, for the short stories).
A few years down the lane, I started picking books on my own. My best friend, is an avid book worm.. and she led me into the wonderful world of books. She has very positively influenced my reading likes and dislikes.. in fact she introduced me to a lot of classics, which was a teritory I was kinda apprehencive to tread. I started with abridged versions .. Emma, Rebecca, Jane Iyre, Prisoner of Zenda, Tale of two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, Mill on the floss, Silas Marner, Adam Bede, Wuthering Heights, Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, Three Musketeers, Kim, Ivanove, Around the world in Eighty days..a huge assorted spree of book reading! Science fictions..War of the Worlds, Time Machine, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (not sure how many Leagues actually) , Journey to the center of the Earth..Issac Assimov short stories (LAter was hooked to the Foundation Series) , Mr Jayant Naralikar, Niranjan Ghate, Arun Sadhu (marathi authors)there was a whole new world opened up!
There used to be trivial reading as well.. 1 famous character was Faster Phene. We enjoyed reading it.. my book-worm friend and me used to buy these books too!
After a few more yrs, I started experimenting with different books. If I heard an author being discussed too often, I would make a point to read at least 2-3 books of that author, till I could decide for myself if I really enjoyed reading him/ her or not.
I used to pick books from British Council Library at random, and give it a try. One such book I picked during my engg days was by Sylvia Nasar. Nope, the author dosen't ring a bell I guess, but the title of the book does.. Its 'A Beautiful Mind' , biography of Mr. John Nash. And this was way before Russell Crowe's movie.
There were times when we read books bcoz they were 'in' :-). In my high school days, books like 'Brief History of Time' , 'Dancing woo-li principles','Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintainance', many of the Alvin Toffler books ('Future Shock', 'The Third Wave' ) were kinda 'hot'.
Being able to discuss them, thrash or appreciate them was kinda cool. :-)
So we all made it a point to read them.
Then came a time where all these contemporary fiction authors were read a lot. (Not sure what catergory to fit them into). Sidney Sheldon (read 2 , 3 books and never touched another book by him..), Aurthur Hailey, John Grisham, Jefferry Archer, Robin cook, Stephen King, Ayn Rand and all that. Some books were really good, some just passed the muster.
Then came again a classics wave. This time it was un-abridged versions. Jane Austen rode the wave. :-) It was more enjoyable, to delve into finer aspects of english.
P. G Woodehouse was 1 more such wave. You can never find another genius like him!
The journey continues.. there are tonnes of more books to read, and a life - time isn't enough to read them all.
These days, with work demanding more time, books are a bit side stepped.. but they can never go out. I am into picking up random titles these days. Cheaper by the dozen, Catch 22, Beloved, Surely You'er Joking Mr. Feynman, To Sir with Love.. just pick a well praised book and finish it off.
Each book gives a different pleasure to read. And the search for more continues...
P.S. My friend S mentioned quite rightly that I didn't mention dear ole Calvin and Hobbes!
Well rightly noted. Comics - Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin and Hobbes - Comics. Thats the equation for us! Bill Waterson gets all the kudos and bows and bravos for such an amazing creation!
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
London London
On a Sunday, windy and bright,
we all set out to see a sight.
A splendid show was on the cards,
They call it the Change of Guards.
Braving the winds with scarves and sweaters,
we then joined all the eager spectators.
People leaned against the barricade,
And the crowd waited for the parade.
They pressed their noses against the gates,
And caught a glimpse of the soldier mates.
The gaurds marched and then stood still,
Cameras clicked in the wind that was chill.
And then came a ringing sound,
as the royal gaurds marched around.
Flutes, drums and cymbals in the band,
indeed made the march quite grand.
Grey uniforms and black fur caps,
shiny shoes in harmonious raps,
togehter they marched, not one flaw,
the crowd stood still and watched in awe.
One gaurd amongst all those,
had a sharp and pinched little nose,
and with all the frills and stashes,
he also wore a pair of glasses!
The royal band and the drums,
In my mind the tune still hums,
but the picture that it always pecks,
is 'The Bobby who marched with specs!'
we all set out to see a sight.
A splendid show was on the cards,
They call it the Change of Guards.
Braving the winds with scarves and sweaters,
we then joined all the eager spectators.
People leaned against the barricade,
And the crowd waited for the parade.
They pressed their noses against the gates,
And caught a glimpse of the soldier mates.
The gaurds marched and then stood still,
Cameras clicked in the wind that was chill.
And then came a ringing sound,
as the royal gaurds marched around.
Flutes, drums and cymbals in the band,
indeed made the march quite grand.
Grey uniforms and black fur caps,
shiny shoes in harmonious raps,
togehter they marched, not one flaw,
the crowd stood still and watched in awe.
One gaurd amongst all those,
had a sharp and pinched little nose,
and with all the frills and stashes,
he also wore a pair of glasses!
The royal band and the drums,
In my mind the tune still hums,
but the picture that it always pecks,
is 'The Bobby who marched with specs!'
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Food For Thought
There are times when you feel like writing after you read something well written by somebody.
Thats how this blog started..
And to keep my blogging instinct alive, I read blogs.
If they are really appealing, I'm inspired to write.
If they aren't, am inspired to write, better.
But its all individual perspective. What I call better, might be worse for some.
But then one who blogs should not bother about all this, after all there are always two sides of a coin.
OK. The above lines were what popped out of my mind (pun intended) in the few moments I took to decide that I did want to blog today.
I have come across some really good Food realted blogs, and find their efforts commendable.
And there is this strange thing, if am hungry, I feel like reading these blogs: they serve like an appetiser.With all interesting pictures, interesting receipes, and interesting anecdotes along with it.
I have always enjoyed food. [ those who know me, pls don't give those wide-spread grins.. :-) ]
Am not fussy about food, but neither am a hearty food-lover.
I like to try different stuff (preferably veg), and I like to experiment in the kitchen.
I am not fond of cooking, but I don't hate it..
I enjoy my daily cooking routine (...yes ppl-who-know-me , I do manage to cook and feed a couple of mouths daily, twice! )
And once in a while, I can flip through some cook book, or website, or even a TV show and try to make something new.
So that's what brings me back to the food blogs.
I appreciate the efforts these people put to jot down their cooking experiences, delve into the finer aspects of ingredients,bother to click step by step snaps of their preperations, experiment with the mundane to whip up something new and in general celebrate food and cooking.
I love to read what experts, critics, anyone passionate and knowledgible about food has to say about food and related things.
Be it a wine taster telling about what cheese goes well with what wine and why, or be it a sugarcane juice walla telling why adding an extra dash of lemon to the sugarcane juice makes it better than the rest.
I love the language that describes food.
Its amazing how a few words convey a whole new world of tastes and aromas..
A blob of butter is different from a dollop of butter,
drizzling your fruit dish with honey isn't same as dressing it lightly with honey,
and a kiss of sugar dosen't draw any parellels with a pinch of salt. :-)
All those mouth-watering perfect descriptions which almost let you taste and smell the dish... wow.. that's some really beautiful use of words! :-)
I have noticed that I don't really mind watching TV shows on cooking.
I love the neatly arranged, spic-n-span kitchen.
The cutlery, crockery being used, the fabulous display of ingredients;
its nice to see how everything from a mandoline to an indoor grill is at-hand for the hosts.
Its a happy sight to see the dish take its shape, size, color ,flavor and aroma.
Its beautiful to see the finally done and decorated dish, with garnishing et-al.
I think these things related to food click because people invloved relish it.
They enjoy the entire process and not just the end results.
They appreciate, acknowledge and understand the art involved in cooking.
That makes it a real special serving....what say?
Thats how this blog started..
And to keep my blogging instinct alive, I read blogs.
If they are really appealing, I'm inspired to write.
If they aren't, am inspired to write, better.
But its all individual perspective. What I call better, might be worse for some.
But then one who blogs should not bother about all this, after all there are always two sides of a coin.
OK. The above lines were what popped out of my mind (pun intended) in the few moments I took to decide that I did want to blog today.
I have come across some really good Food realted blogs, and find their efforts commendable.
And there is this strange thing, if am hungry, I feel like reading these blogs: they serve like an appetiser.With all interesting pictures, interesting receipes, and interesting anecdotes along with it.
I have always enjoyed food. [ those who know me, pls don't give those wide-spread grins.. :-) ]
Am not fussy about food, but neither am a hearty food-lover.
I like to try different stuff (preferably veg), and I like to experiment in the kitchen.
I am not fond of cooking, but I don't hate it..
I enjoy my daily cooking routine (...yes ppl-who-know-me , I do manage to cook and feed a couple of mouths daily, twice! )
And once in a while, I can flip through some cook book, or website, or even a TV show and try to make something new.
So that's what brings me back to the food blogs.
I appreciate the efforts these people put to jot down their cooking experiences, delve into the finer aspects of ingredients,bother to click step by step snaps of their preperations, experiment with the mundane to whip up something new and in general celebrate food and cooking.
I love to read what experts, critics, anyone passionate and knowledgible about food has to say about food and related things.
Be it a wine taster telling about what cheese goes well with what wine and why, or be it a sugarcane juice walla telling why adding an extra dash of lemon to the sugarcane juice makes it better than the rest.
I love the language that describes food.
Its amazing how a few words convey a whole new world of tastes and aromas..
A blob of butter is different from a dollop of butter,
drizzling your fruit dish with honey isn't same as dressing it lightly with honey,
and a kiss of sugar dosen't draw any parellels with a pinch of salt. :-)
All those mouth-watering perfect descriptions which almost let you taste and smell the dish... wow.. that's some really beautiful use of words! :-)
I have noticed that I don't really mind watching TV shows on cooking.
I love the neatly arranged, spic-n-span kitchen.
The cutlery, crockery being used, the fabulous display of ingredients;
its nice to see how everything from a mandoline to an indoor grill is at-hand for the hosts.
Its a happy sight to see the dish take its shape, size, color ,flavor and aroma.
Its beautiful to see the finally done and decorated dish, with garnishing et-al.
I think these things related to food click because people invloved relish it.
They enjoy the entire process and not just the end results.
They appreciate, acknowledge and understand the art involved in cooking.
That makes it a real special serving....what say?
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Change
After some time of hibernation, am back to not-so-frequent blogging.
There has been some change in my routine, surroundings,behaviour (to some extent, and for a short time I guess) and am taking my own sweet (but limited) time to adjust to it.
I have relocated to a foreign land, to a new work place , for a new client, for sometime, and am trying get back to normal routine.
There are ppl with diffrent looks, diffrent accents, diffrent attitudes, diffrent work-culture around me, and am trying to blend with them.
They aren't good or bad (coz its too early for me to judge them), they'er just diffrent.
I am trying to change a few of my old habits, to be in sync with these ppl.
I am waking up early, I am eating good healthy food; on time, am travelling on my own to my work plc, I am trying to keep appointments, trying to be very particular about the way I dress, I speak, I carry myself. Am trying to spare time for myself too, and re-establishing my contacts with friends, as my co-ordinates have suddenly changed.
Some of these things I never did before, though they were essential. This change has helped me pick them up.
Change is good. Change keeps you on your toes-atleast for sometime.
After a period of getting used to something, change is unsettling at the beginning and welcome afterwards.
You look forward to get over the unsettling phase, as early as possible, as seamlessly as possible, so that you can settle with the change. In the process you give away some baggages, pick up some, and re-mould yourself.
Change keeps you going. Some people consciously, some sub-consciously look for change.It gives a new perspective, a new dimension, a new outlook. [ not MS Outlook, you IT geek!]
Am looking forward to settle with this new change, and in the process explore the world - both inside and outside me, a bit further.
PS: Happie Valentine's Day!
It never harms to have little occassions to be explicit about certain implicit emotions.. wot say? :-)
There has been some change in my routine, surroundings,behaviour (to some extent, and for a short time I guess) and am taking my own sweet (but limited) time to adjust to it.
I have relocated to a foreign land, to a new work place , for a new client, for sometime, and am trying get back to normal routine.
There are ppl with diffrent looks, diffrent accents, diffrent attitudes, diffrent work-culture around me, and am trying to blend with them.
They aren't good or bad (coz its too early for me to judge them), they'er just diffrent.
I am trying to change a few of my old habits, to be in sync with these ppl.
I am waking up early, I am eating good healthy food; on time, am travelling on my own to my work plc, I am trying to keep appointments, trying to be very particular about the way I dress, I speak, I carry myself. Am trying to spare time for myself too, and re-establishing my contacts with friends, as my co-ordinates have suddenly changed.
Some of these things I never did before, though they were essential. This change has helped me pick them up.
Change is good. Change keeps you on your toes-atleast for sometime.
After a period of getting used to something, change is unsettling at the beginning and welcome afterwards.
You look forward to get over the unsettling phase, as early as possible, as seamlessly as possible, so that you can settle with the change. In the process you give away some baggages, pick up some, and re-mould yourself.
Change keeps you going. Some people consciously, some sub-consciously look for change.It gives a new perspective, a new dimension, a new outlook. [ not MS Outlook, you IT geek!]
Am looking forward to settle with this new change, and in the process explore the world - both inside and outside me, a bit further.
PS: Happie Valentine's Day!
It never harms to have little occassions to be explicit about certain implicit emotions.. wot say? :-)
Friday, January 13, 2006
Why?
There are certain things that I fail to understand....
Due to the series of unfortunate events happening all over the world, I've noticed this one thing, and am unable to comprehend with it..
Why are images of all the pain, all the suffering, all the ruins, all the anguish, all the trauma with their minute and very disturbing details splashed across by the media in print and television?
Conveying the magnitude of the misfortune and the extent of damage is one thing.. but things stretch far beyond that at some places..
Starving, frail, sick, dying kids; distressed,shelterless, helpless, desparate old people; mangled,ruined,disfigured bodies, strewn carcasses, extreme close ups of a screaming mother who has lost her kid, a heart broken father beating his chest for losing his young son to terrorism..
Images that intrude the most intimate sorrows of someone's life, images that publicise the pain of the sufferers, images that advertise the ruins...
For years we'ev seen these images, as the root causes of all this have strenghtened and our feelings have numbed..
Is this a ghastly attempt to evoke those hardened feelings? Or is it a display of the extent one can go to capture the "actual" story? Is it an attempt to potray the feelings so closely that one gasps and shuts his eyes at the horror of experiencing someone's misfortune at such a close length?
These images do communicate what thousands of words have to say, but is it going a bit too far?
Due to the series of unfortunate events happening all over the world, I've noticed this one thing, and am unable to comprehend with it..
Why are images of all the pain, all the suffering, all the ruins, all the anguish, all the trauma with their minute and very disturbing details splashed across by the media in print and television?
Conveying the magnitude of the misfortune and the extent of damage is one thing.. but things stretch far beyond that at some places..
Starving, frail, sick, dying kids; distressed,shelterless, helpless, desparate old people; mangled,ruined,disfigured bodies, strewn carcasses, extreme close ups of a screaming mother who has lost her kid, a heart broken father beating his chest for losing his young son to terrorism..
Images that intrude the most intimate sorrows of someone's life, images that publicise the pain of the sufferers, images that advertise the ruins...
For years we'ev seen these images, as the root causes of all this have strenghtened and our feelings have numbed..
Is this a ghastly attempt to evoke those hardened feelings? Or is it a display of the extent one can go to capture the "actual" story? Is it an attempt to potray the feelings so closely that one gasps and shuts his eyes at the horror of experiencing someone's misfortune at such a close length?
These images do communicate what thousands of words have to say, but is it going a bit too far?
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