Being CANDYD

2009-03-19T16:21:00.004+05:30

Scenes from my window

Sunset at Versowa

2009-03-13T12:10:00.002+05:30

MAYA

Maya is the apple of her parent’s eyes. The only daughter, she is doted upon by them and leads a simple but sheltered life. She goes to school; she gossips; she studies; she goes out with friends for movies; even completes her homework at times; and plays with Tasha - her litter mate and sister, the beloved golden retriever she grew up with. She argues with her mom, she sulks, throws tantrums, pouts and reluctantly goes to bed by nine.

She is a typical seventeen year old.

One morning, her father receives a call from a hospital in Bombay. They tell him that Maya’s aunt was in an accident and was rushed to the hospital, her condition critical. Her parents are required and have to leave at once. They are unable to find a chaperone for Maya at such short notice and are anxious about leaving her home alone. Maya convinces them, and they reluctantly agree. But not without laying down a few ground rules first. Her father gives her precise instructions. He insists that she reach home by five in the evening; close the doors and windows at the first hint of dusk. Once indoors, she is supposed to complete her studies, maybe watch a little television, probably play with Tasha, eat her dinner at nine, cross check all the doors and windows, test the latches and then go to bed. Her father also instructs her to keep Tasha with her at all times. Maya laughs at their anxiety and jokes that she is certainly old enough to live through one evening alone. Not convinced but beaten, her parents reluctantly leave. That evening, for the first time in her life, Maya experiences the joy of an empty house. She comes home, throws her shoes and bags in the living room, settles down in front of the television without bothering to change out of her uniform. No mom’s voice insisting that she do this or that. What bliss. Following her father’s instructions to a T, Mala locks all the doors and windows the minute the shadows darken. She prepares for her algebra test the next day, watches the strictly banned Desperate Housewives, eats her dinner, checks the locks and then calls it a night. Paranoia sets in the minute her head hits the pillow, as she replays every ghost story, murder, rape, alien abduction story she has ever heard of! Laughing at her foolishness, she seeks comfort from Tasha who is sleeping under her bed. Just to be safe, she ensures the bedroom door is locked and eventually as the hundredth sheep jumps over the picket fence, she drifts into a troubled sleep.

That night she dreams a black dream; that typical nerve-wracking dream the details of which you never remember the next morning. She tosses and turns restlessly for a couple of hours. Tasha licks her hand, reassured, she finally settles into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Maya wakes up and laughs at her foolishness. Stretching lazily, she heads to the bathroom. She opens the door and finds Tasha hanging in the shower. Across the mirror, slashed in her mother’s red lipstick, she read “IT WASN’T THE DOG THAT LICKED YOUR HAND LAST NIGHT.”

2009-03-08T14:44:00.004+05:30

Today I choose to be a MAN.

Rumblings of discontent have been heard. Partiality they mumble. Grumbling endlessly. WE want a day too...

Poor men. They dont wake up to special "Happy Men's day"messages.

Why, Children get days. We have Mother's Day.Father's Day. Teacher's Day. Animal Day. Towel Day ( on March 25, fellow Douglas Adams fans please note)
Transgender Remembrance Day. Nutella Day. Victory in Europe Day and Victory in Japan Day ( May 7/8 and August 14/15 for those interested) International Woman's Day.
The Day of the Dead (which interestingly enough spans two days, All Saints Day and All Souls Day) April Fools Day. The rosy (pun unintended) Valentines Day. At this point I would like to note that there is no Singles Day. A day devoted to enjoying Singledom.

This sunny sunday afternoon, my cellphone alternates between displaying "location-Versowa rd" and...(Drum rolls please) "HAPPY WOMENS DAY". Today we celebrate "womanhood". Only TODAY. The other days are reserved for beating up and assaulting women on roads, pubs,buses and trains. Oh and any other place you can think of.

and so TODAY I choose to speak up for the disgruntled males. Give the poor things a DAY too. Let them celebrate their "manhood".

p.s - Dont panic , happy thoughts will resurface once you head to http://www.towel-day.com/en/ - TOWEL DAY. Douglas Adams is the man!

2009-03-05T10:24:00.001+05:30

ADVENTURE OF A DIFFERENT KIND

A few years back a whole group of us had gone on a five day trek through the lush rainforests or “sholas” of Silent Valley. The jungles of Silent Valley are less disturbed by humans than most other forests in India, vast slopes of grassland dotted with clumps of dense forest. There were flowering orchids, huge anthills taller than an average human being, giant ferns and hundred year old creepers that looked like full grown trees.

On this trek we had to carry our luggage in backpacks, covering an average distance of twenty kilometers a day on steep tracks. We trekked right across the length of the reserve, stopping only at night. The weather was freezing at night, the cold winds chilling our bones; during the day it was hot and incredibly humid.

On the third day, the unexpected happened. As darkness crept upon us, grey shadows of trees loomed around us and it seemed like millions of eyes watched our every move with curiosity. Weary and tired after a hard day’s trek, all we wanted was to reach the rest house and put up our aching feet. The children were getting cranky and their mothers harassed. Experienced as we were, having been out in the wild since the age of five, my younger brother too was also showing signs of tiring and kept asking my mother where the rest house was every few minutes. Someone ahead of us yelled with joy – they had spotted the water pipes signaling that shelter was close by. It was almost dark, and as we walked slowly, my mother spied the roof of the rest house up ahead in the distance. She turned excitedly to my brother and the next thing I heard was a loud shriek. I ran ahead, my father following closely, to see my mom holding her ankle, her face contorted in a painful grimace. “Oh god not a snake!” was the first thought running through my head. After what seemed like an hour-long second she said she had stepped into a rat hole. On reaching the rest house, my father examined the now swollen ankle in torchlight and declared that it was not a fracture.

The next day we were supposed to continue our journey through a part of the reserve that was home to the rare “lion tailed macaque”. However, my father decided to call a halt and not proceed as planned. My mother rested her injured ankle. Friends helped by feeding her the famous Chinese Gin Sing tablets and even trying pranic healing to ease the pain. We rested our aching feet, dried out our shoes, powdered our socks and got ready for the tough trek ahead of us. My dad went out and fashioned a crude but sturdy forest wood crutch for my mom.

The next morning we set out at a very slow pace as my mom had trouble trekking up the steep inclines. The group was divided; my dad and mom walked slowly and the rest of the group carried on ahead. I wanted to stay back with my mom and walk with her – so a close family friend stayed back to keep me company. Much later I found out that he did so as he understood that my dad would have found it tough to take care of both my mom and myself. We trekked through the heart of the jungle. Small rivulets with crystal clear water running over pretty moss-covered pebbles, jade coloured ferns as delicate as a feather, orchids in myriad hues in the most unexpected locations. As it grew dark we started talking about movies, old music, Pink Floyd, and shoes (!) as he attempted to take my mind off my mother’s pain. As we neared the campsite, the guide told us that a tiger lived nearby and was often heard at night. To make matters worse, the last stretch was the most harrowing for my mother, as it was a river bed full of pebbles. When we finally reached, we found the rest of the group had stayed up anxiously awaiting our arrival, and had even saved some dinner for us!

The final journey involved a half day trek leading to civilization. At the end of the trek we had to make our way across the last hurdle. We had to walk around five hundred yards on a steep, narrow goat track with a sheer fall to the river far below. On the other side and above us was a beautiful waterfall. It was an unforgettable experience, breathtaking as well as treacherous, and we carefully made our way down over slippery shale, my heart in my mouth with every step. Finally, we reached the bridge that signaled the end of this eventful journey. We had just trekked right across the length of Silent Valley.

I love the Wild and she has taught me a lot about sticks, stones, thorns, butterflies and birds ; taught me to fear, to be careful, to be happy and to be awed. But on this trek I learnt something completely new. This trek across the forest changed my definition of adventure. Adventure is not only about trying new things, living on the edge or experiencing the uncommon. It also involves exploring within oneself, getting through tough situations, moving ahead and learning from them. Most importantly, it involves discovering new emotions and our reactions to various incidents that happen to us.

I felt completely useless as I watched my mother in pain and could do nothing to help her. Helplessness was a feeling that I had never dealt with until then. All I could do was watch from the sidelines as someone I loved so dearly suffered and endured pain. It was an injury that could have happened to anyone but it had happened to my mom. What hurt was the fact that I couldn’t make the pain stop or do anything to make it less. And that I had to just stand by and watch my mom as she bore it without complaining. The despair of helplessness…

I will never forget Silent Valley for its beauty, its exquisite flora and fauna; and it will always remain one of the most beautiful forests I have ever been to. I will also never forget Silent Valley for it was here that I discovered adventure in its true sense. This is where I learned my most valuable lesson of all - something the wild taught me that the concrete jungles could not! This is where I had an unforgettable adventure – an adventure of a different kind.

2009-03-01T00:56:00.001+05:30

FALLING IN LOVE

I am slowly falling in love.I guess it is a feeling that grows on you. Like moss or fungus or lichen. The romance in these comparisons! I love traveling, its something that never fails to excite me and I got bitten by the bug young. My parents strapped me into a backpack at the grand age of six months and decided to take a road trip on the beloved Bullet to Ellora Ajantha from Ahmednagar and then back to Mumbai. Oh yes, insanity runs in the family. But I digress.
Like I said- I am slowly falling in love.The object of my affections this time is definitely female. She is a bundle of contradictions, elegant and stately with an old world charm; sometimes restless;sometimes calm;sleepy; young and boisterous at others. The more I see, the more hopelessly devoted I get. She can be unforgiving, cold and ruthless, or loving and lively.Definitely Complicated. And I hope she favors me. Luck favors those with pluck
( err...forgive the rhyming scheme).

Here She is in all her glory.

I am torn between two coasts. Madras or Bombay? Sunrise or Sunset?

2009-02-25T12:09:00.003+05:30

THE LONG HIATUS

This is a valid attempt to renew my love for writing and I duly apologise to the English Written Language for my absence.

Anyway updates are due, I have now finished my undergraduate in Electronic Media. Worked in design and copy writing for a bit, did a lot of interesting work but felt a need for change...
So decided to come to Bombay. Thus started my soul searching and job searching. Must say in these times the former is a far easier task. And I say this taking into account the vagaries of my soul.

JOB HUNTING...

Job hunting is a marvelous thing, you have to narrow down options, track down leads, follow up, hunt down people, find openings, "keep at it", attack an opportunity,weigh your options, negotiate, renegotiate, play your aces close to your chest, and discuss things like "monies" (whatever that is !) and listen to "anyways"(but that's another post),maybes, and Il get back to you. I am sure our cave dwelling ancestors would agree that it is truly a HUNT. Man, is it exhausting. All this to do what I love. So I guess it's worth it - perhaps the same satisfaction of hunting your own food, cooking it and relishing it especially when you are famished. Do notice however use of the word guess.

2006-08-20T12:53:00.000+05:30

It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny.
Jean Nidetch

Latetly i have found myself wondering about the future... not in some abstract sense but in terms of I, me and myself. What am i passionate about? Where do i see myself a few years from now? and finally the biggest and most dreaded of all- WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE? All these questions ... well not so many- but these seemingly harmless three questions have potentially life changing implications.. And so these questions swimming in my head, creating a tangled knot or weave very similar to a spiderweb have resulted in my penning down this post...
I have always been a flowerchild... my head up in the clouds... not a care or worry in this earthly world... never heard of the word "stress"... going where ever the wind takes me..not very easygoing though..thats me. Oh, im a worrywart sometimes,something that disappears as soon as in surfaces. Some people have ambition, a fire burning in their stomach, an aim or a goal or just something they want with all their being. But im not some people, im just me . Well im not saying im not ambitious, true i want to achieve something, make my mark and that sort of thing but i havnt the foggiest clue doing what, when or for whom! Sounds crazy right? Believe me, tried sorting it out and landed up in front of the comp my fingers tapping away to glory... leaving me much more tangled then i was to begin with!

You are the person who has to decide. Whether you'll do it or toss it aside; You are the person who makes up your mind. Whether you'll lead or will linger behind. Whether you'll try for the goal that's afar. Or just be contented to stay where you are.
Edgar A. Guest
As Guest put it so beautifully its my decision and it ultimately boils to what i want to do.Do i want to travel round the globe, discovering places and people, globetrotting and writing about it, do i want to get into graphics, will it be an MBA in HR , do i want to do psychology or pet psychology, become a director or a writer, a journalist or a copywriter???! Soo many options, so many decisions makes this eighteen year old want to run back to kindergarden. To that haven where all i thought of scribbling on the classroom walls with green crayons or wailing for a toffee.However one rebellious part of me that just refuses to take the easy way out looks ahead, wanting to see where i ultimately go, what i choose and who i become... It would be so much easier if i didnt... then again it probably wouldnt! If you are flummoxed, then you comprehend an iota of what im feeling.... welcome to a young adults world!

2006-08-05T15:37:00.001+05:30

Lost And Found?!

I am an absent minded klutz i misplace things very easily... notes, textbooks, my favorite chain, money, novels, cell, earrings even vegetables i purchased! Wish every object I misplace had a ringtone so that i could just call and place it like my cell.. better yet Google its location or something. Anyway before this gets bizarre i'll get to the point. Today a friend of mine lost her bike keys , she ran up to class and looked all over for her keys... some minutes later she came down saying she couldnt find it anywhere.Finally after couple of agonizing minutes she decided to go to the office to check if someone had found it and given it in. She describes the keychain, the lady in charge nods and gives it back to her telling her that she has to pay a fine of Rs.20. Now why will anyone pay a fine because they lost their key? Misplacing stuff is an intrinsic part of Human coding.Somewhere, sometime even the most organized of us have lost our belongings.
IS a Fine the answer?

This entire incident spurred a very movie like flash back... Driving home I suddenly recalled something that took place in school. In preschool or perhaps slightly later... guess i must have been five or six... One day i had misplaced my new lunch box and the teacher helped me look for it. She very patiently helped me search the benches in class, the playground, the corridor and finally the shelves at the back of the class. I found my box tucked to one corner in the lowest shelf. The teacher didn't scold me or chastise me in any way. Instead she smiled as I stopped my sobbing and gave me an orange candy!! That was all...

Isnt the agony of loosing something precious, the thought of makin it home without your bike or the calling up your dad and saying "Dad guess what i seem to have misplaced my keys!", the running up and down lookin for it, lesson enough??Do we need a stupid fine to instill some kind of warning in our heads? "LOOSE SOMETHING AND PAY A FINE-BEWARE!!". Like thats going to stop us from loosing stuff?!
I think the candy from all those years ago did something a million Fines will never do...

2006-04-04T23:38:00.001+05:30

Rainy days..

Mesa has always believed that if the refreshing scent of rain pounding parched earth could be sold in a bottle as perfume... it would sell for millions.. or i would just buy all the stock there is!
I love the sound of rain, the feel of rain drops falling on my face,the sqishy feeling of wet shoes or better yet wet socks(!) .. will stiop there( guess you more or less get the picture!) A glimpse of dark grey clouds is all it takes to make my day and send me to cloud nine.. i recall one particular monsoon morning, a friend peering into my face and asking me why i had that goofy grin pasted on my face( hmmm.. all i can tell ya is that it had something to do with the strong wind outside lol!)
Love dancing in the rain, on many rainy evening i have been found dancing on the terrace, music blaring .. usually to the tune of "I love the rainy night " or " dancing in the moonlight" ... fortunately for me, i live in an independent house, so no complaints as of now due to my insane antics! The joy of getting drenched in the rain walking, riding a cycle or on the bike is unsurpassed- closely followed by one thing... eating ice!( even tried hail on many an occasion!! mmmm...*licks chops in memory*!)
Oh brings back memories of school days .. when yours truly would go about jumping in every puddle i could find on the way to the bus stop or better yet stand below all these branches n shake the tree so that leaves and moisture would rain down on me! I was in the twelfth and one particularly lovely day , one of my teachers found me in the process of shaking one such branch and was flabbergasted... Here was a girl they thought was mature, responsible and level-headed enough to hold a badge- behaving like like a stark raving lunatic!! Must have given her quite a shock...LOL
The nicest thing to do on a rainy day or even on a cold winter morning( no chance of that in chennai though..) is to eat loads of ice cream or even ice candy..yummm!!
As it gets hotter each passing day, all i have are memories of humid, wet, rainy monsoon days!! Ah the sweet music .. the pitter-patter of the rain drops and the smell of rain... At the risk of sounding cliche " God gave us memories so that we might have roses in december!"..

2006-03-31T12:48:00.001+05:30

CUT ME UP...

A rather amusing incident I just had to share.. went to get my tresses cut yesterday (finally!) Anyway just tied a pony tail , threw on some clothes and ran to the palour ( yup, you guessed right, yours truly was running late... as usual!) reached there a few minutes late and Aunty was just finishing with an older lady( we will refer to her as mrs. de'vil here!), who was colouring her hair( could have also been henna but this Ignorant couldnt make out!). Allright so back to me.. Aunty came over and asked me what I wanted.. was it going to be my usual( yup, like at a restraunt- been having the same cut for two years -maybe more..lol). The conversation went like this
Moi: Aunty I want something totally different, I am getting very bored .. but I dont want to colour or staighten my hair!!
Aunty: (laughs, joined by Mrs de'vil) How short do you want it? Enough to tie a pony- tail I'm guessing.. hmmm lets see( pauses and studies my locks for a few seconds, moves it from side to side ) oh why dont we try this cut, layer it fully ,blah..( launches into explaining in technical terms -dont you dare laugh hair-dressing is very complex- much beyond my humble comprehension levels!)
Moi:( a foxed look on my face, not following anything beyond "how about cutting your hair in layers"!!)
Aunty: Wait ill show you what it would look like...

And so the style is chosen and snippity snip..aunty gets busy... Now while all this was happening Mrs.de'vil was getting a face mask of some kind, a pedicure( all simultaneously I must add). After the cucumber slices were resting peacefully on her eyes she lazily says
" I want to see what you have done to that girl's hair... it was so thick and unruly before!"

Snippity snip the scissors went as aunty put the finishing touches and then asked me to show my hair cut to the lady who was by now getting her hair washed.. I walked over to her and she looked shocked " what a nice change...how did you make her pretty? "
"this is such a nice change from that earlier hairstyle she sported.. "
Woah there lady but all I did was put my hair into a pony tail.. I mean one doesnt get all decked up to go to a beauty palour now, does she?! The icing on the cake was " you made her look atleast ten years younger... how come you dont make me look pretty?!"

At this juncture i must stress that this lady was around fifty or so.. lol.. why on earth is she comparing the two of us? I wasnt even angry or upset, just so darn amused. I mean my grandmother who is reaching her 80th year, looks so elegant and natural.. all she does is wear a simple sari, no ornaments save a nose ring.

I havnt a clue why I had to pen this incident down.. just wanted to share one of the many quirks of humanity.

2006-03-29T17:49:00.001+05:30

CHILLY ESCAPADES...

Just the other day the boss(!) and myself were watching the movie "The Chronicles Of Narnia" - a movie which i must say i loved... though the book wins hands down any day! Back to the point- so we we had our eyes glued to the screen( me occasionaly wanting to strangle one annoying kid yelling through the film!), when suddently the two of us look at each other and say "dude, i want to eat all that snow!" the sight of all that pure, white, powdery,fresh snow was more than we could take... i am an official ice addict.. i love eating ice cubes, snow, any other form of frozen water you can think of( you are permitted to use your imagination!)Recently i found out that this need to eat ice arises from some kind of deficiency- iron i think... jus a lil' tidbit of information!

The ice trays at home are never full, a fact that irks my father no end. My mom, brother and yours truly cant allow such a catastrophe to occur- We have even introduced the sublime pleasures of eating ice to both my doggie darlings... so my poor dad is outnumbered! At times we even go around to my neighbours place and borrow ice when we are entertaining...( i know,am lucky to have such understanding neighbours!)

I have to eat ice while studying, watching t.v or for that matter while writing this post(dont ask how i juggle between the ice cubes and the keyboard! lol).. In fact ice cubes are nothing compared to the real deal- the ice or frost found in all the old refridgerators(not the frost-free ones), oh the height of bliss was scraping the sides of the freezer( the inside mind you)... Man oh man i miss my old fridge( sigh!)

Only today the two of us stole a couple of ice cubes at our seniors farewell while s handfull of second years looked on with flabbergasted expressions!( priti if u are reading this- yes indeed, I caught a few shocked glances coming our way!)

On my first trip to the Himalyas, a trip to Nagarota in Jammu ; I was found by an uncle knee deep in snow, packing it into small snowballs( was around ten then)placing them in a neat mound, and then instead of throwing them at him as expected,i was attacking them with gusto( in my defence - it was fresh snow ...how on earth could i refrain??!)

I have to run now, my stash has been consumed and the fridge beckons.. To guys who havnt tried it.. you are missing out on something mindblowing(yes you dont need drugs!)and to those who are eating ice while reading this post, i raise my glass full of --- on the rocks( only the rocks actually..lol) and salute you!

2006-03-19T12:02:00.001+05:30

Soulmate... Checkmate?!

Long ago in a not so distant city of Bangalore two nine year old girls decided what their ideal mates would be like. They had decided to marry millionaires who would love them and satisfy their every whim and fancy! Very ambitious one would say for nine year olds, but hey these two did tend to plan in advance-very much so as one can see. Anyway I was one and the other girl my cousin- today however we have matured and our goals have changed into becoming millionaires ourselves:) ( by far easier- then we can sign our own checks! LOL...)
All my life( ok my short life of eighteen years) I have always astounded folks around me whenever I have shared with them the simple fact that I have never had a crush on anyone.. Their varied reactions are -
1. You are kidding right?
2. Dude are you sure you are straight? ( This one never fails to fox me, I mean I did say I have never ever had a crush- that would include both sexes?!)
3. Candy you are lying.. I am sure its just that you cannot recognize a crush.( my reaction: Yeah right, have heard the symptoms from all my friends like a zillion times!)
4. Hey guess that means you are too insecure to risk liking anyone!( No comment- the comment says it all- probably the closest explanation I might say..LOL)

The simplest explanation yet- that I have impossible standards and am looking for perfection.. As my mother astutely put it " I think you are searching for a husband not a boyfriend!" Woah there, never looked at it that way! Then again isn't that what we all do- consciously or unconsciously... Aren't we all in this constant search for our "soul mate". A part of me knows that there is no perfect fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle its rather like pieces of broken china, however well one fixes it there will always be the problem of leakage. I know there is no such thing as perfect other half- there are always compromises to be made, differences to be sorted out and opinions that will differ. A feminist's approach but one I deem true is that women mature faster compared to men therefore I have always found guys in my age-group sometimes those a few years older than me rather immature( there have however been a few exceptions to this rule :D) This is one of the reasons women tend to marry slightly older men. (LOL... Did warn you -its rather feministic!) And the older guys who I might find good enough for me( I have a huge ego too) look upon me as their kid sister- that kinda ruins the chemistry!!
I am an insecure person- I have no qualms about admitting that, I expect any relationship I get into to last forever and see no point in getting into one otherwise. That's one of the major reasons why I have never had a crush.

I recall a heated, passionate debate, tempers flaring and opinions flying back and forth within our gang in college sometime back. The topic being " Should one get into a relationship"! It was me against seven of my friends ( two remained undecided and neutral!) My friends reasons for getting into relationships were many, some meaningful others not very .. According to them it made them feel good- feel happy and loved, they gained experience, they found what they wanted in their ideal man and what they didn't -so on and so forth. Reflecting now, it was rather amusing and must have been quite a show for any third person observing us... Their dictum being that I was cold and frigid.. :D( for a diehard romantic who loves her sappy movies and happy endings that was quite a judgment!)

I am quite the paradox I must say... Romantic, cynical, idealist, a pessimist and an optimist - just your normal eighteen year old girl still finding herself and her place in the world. Why in the world is she looking for her ideal other half even before she finds her own two feet?!

2006-03-17T11:20:00.001+05:30

Lessons learnt...

My last post was quite the sermon from the mount :) :) on a totally different note...

Life in a all girls college is not easy-especially if one has spent their entire life in a co-ed environment... I remember on the first day of college i walked into the our canteen, a sea of colourful salwar kamezs blinded me for a few seconds and all i could see were girls, girls and more of the fair sex. There were no guys pushing, no scavengers(jus kiddin guys) trying to grab at whats in your plate and no classmates asking to be treated to a samosa or begging for ten bucks for a lime juice!! Now i am not a boy crazy teenager quite the opposite in fact, but it suddenly hit me that i just walked through the portals of some kind of alternate universe where there wasnt going to be of that ... atleast not on the same scale!!In class i find my self wishing every once in a while that one of my school classmates( a guy whose humour i found immensely immature) would pop put of nowhere and crack one of his lame pjs. Its not that i dont have fun in college or that our class lacks pranksters, its just that a guys sense of humour however dirty makes a boring class interesting. I never thought i would miss male company so much but boy was i wrong!!
I recall an interesting conversation with priti (the boss) some time ago- the two of ur marvelled at the difference in conversation topics and in the quality of conversation within our gang in college. Seems like someone was not wrong when they said that we woman always need men(!)... now dont get me wrong i am quite the feminist - wont go all the way to brassiere burning though- but my point is women need men, however independent, assured or self confident we are.. I can just imagine that cocky grin on the face of any guy reading this post and all i have to say to you is it works both ways mister, it works both ways...
Ultimately life in college has taught me two lessons -to treasure my guy friends(even if i want to strangle them at times- make that most of the time) and to enjoy the fun, the insanity, the wierdness(yes that too in small measures!) , the madness ... the joy of being one of ten unique, crazy, maniacal,beautiful girls each one of us more insane than the next , young souls painting our world red! That my friends is what i have learnt in my first year in college... apart from the studies, the notes, the xeroxs , the submissions and the assignments( cant forget that now can we?)!! :)

2006-03-15T11:28:00.001+05:30

My tryst with cell phones...

My earliest memory- the constant buzzing of this contraption interrupting what started out being a quiet evening and quality time for the entire family! The invasive nature of this so called "boon" is something i could never tolerate. Through school other kids boasted of being the proud owners of the Nokia this model or the latest Samsung model, while i stood firmly in my belief that the cell was the Devil's gift to mankind ... a later, more updated version of The Apple that tempted Eve! A tad melodramatic i guess but my sentiments exactly.

Come college and my parents gave me freedom in the form of a bike and a cell to keep them posted about my whereabouts. At this junture i must stress that my attitude towards the cell remained the same, perhaps less childish but my tolerance level hadnt changed.

The first day of college i walked into this classroom busling with activily as people found their seats and introduced themselves to each other. After the first few classes however i found much to my surprise that instead of communicating and conversing with their new neighbours , most girls immediately picked up their cells, and got caught up with SMSs or calls. Instead of socialising with people around them, they were communicating with friends probably in other colleges who in turn wern't striking up acquaintances with their new class mates.

Another constant grouch i have with folks around me is that we know for a fact that cell phones radiate and research has proven that the side effects of constant contact with cells are migranes and headaches and cancer to name a few. A recent study showed that teenagers who are constantly using cells have greater potential for mental illnesses by the time they hit their thirties! Inspite of all this knowledge we insist on keeping those bloody contraptions on our body. I am not saying dont use them all i am saying is why keep it on your person, why not in a handbag instead of our pockets?!I remember warning a close friend who always hung her cell in a cell-phone cover around her neck and all she did was laugh it off. She said " Come on Divya, do you live in the Stone-Age? Everyone is doing so and no one had died yet! Why on earth are you so paranoid?" Let me explain why i am so
" pranoid" ( guess i am since i am dedicating my first blog to it!!:)).
Initially when cigarettes flooded the market, many researchers conducted studies and found that nicotine is carcinogenic- (a fact we all know now )but back then the cigarette companies clamped down on these researchers and somehow their test results were never published for more than a decade. Now my question is How do we know that is not the case with these cell phone companies and mobile manufacturers? Afterall we know for a fact that cell phones radiate constantly irrespective of whether there is a call or not. These radiations can cause Cancer...

Recently i heard some one say that today the cell phone is no more a luxury but a necessity. True, on more than one occasion i have felt that i am indeed blessed with this modern day boon, but at the same time i question the need to keep it in such close contact and use it so constantly. Moderation is the word of the day and should be applied to this device too.
But hey this is just my view and its up to you to make your own bed wherever you choose to.
I would however like to say that my sentiments have matured from the Cell being a modern version of the Apple that tempted Eve to it being a pair of Golden Bejewelled Handcuffs...