Monday, 31 December 2012

An Everythingly-Incorrect Tata to 2012!

I really didn't start out wanting to make a list-post of what I've been doing this year but this is how it turned out and I'm way too good(read: lazy)to take away from you this work of s****y literature, this  Specimen of nonsense gone wrong.
Aaand Here it is!


1.       Got myself an internet connection (the beginning of it all!)
2.       Found myself a place on the Internet (This blog is my very first adventure in cyberspace; I have no other social-networking experience. I mean it! Explanation here.)
3.       Met this wonderful crowd of people who actually (and shockingly) find my scribbling worth reading! Love you guys!
4.       Said a lot many things I wish I could take back and did a few things I wish I could obliterate from my past (nothing too drastic. All you people with your heads stuck in a saas-bahu saga like gutter, get it out... ‘Control my tongue’ new New-Year resolution)
5.       Got a mature take on a lot of 'adult' matters...Politics, Sex* and the like. The Internet is really no place for the faint hearted, and for kids.
6.       Learnt a lot many English cuss-words and detrimentals and finally understood a few Hindi ones (chutiya means stupid...Can you BELIEVE that??! And to think I wasted a year lecturing college guys about it...shows that they are clueless too!)
7.       Understood that it’s OK to be me. That it’s OK not to be able to come up with a snappy reply to all the ribbing I have to suffer. That not being a size-zero, fair-and-lovelied Miss India does not make me ugly (because for guys it doesn't matter how you look because they’re just after ONE S**t. I do sound drunk...only on New-Yearly cheer guys. No worries. I'm clean.*hiccup*)

This un-politically (or morally I suppose) correct post makes my blog officially out of bounds for my parents...actually it’s nothing very incriminating but somehow I can’t bear the idea of my parents knowing that their daughter actually does think about guys and sex and even has views on them. Like a parent-child relationship is asexual...that makes me sound like a victim of bad parenting or something.
I’s a little confused. All the things I wouldn't (or don’t) say in real life, I say on my blog. In that way, you guys who read me have more power (and knowledge) over me because you know what I'm REALLY thinking...scary thought. Or maybe not. I actually like it!
So the key to knowing someone is to get their blog URL (Tip for arranged-marriages...trick the guy's blog URL out of him and then decide!).
But then in writing even a horrid person can be made to look good (e.g. Her coal black eyes, her nut-brown skin, her ebony hair...when in effing reality it'll be plain old me...see no wonder matrimonial ads are misleading!) And not only physically, but mentally as well.

*Another major realisation:
Sex is so NOT the great thing it’s cut up to be you know, granted all my knowledge comes from books(yep, All of it is from novels(or education books). I'm still porn-clean..yay for good girls!), but there is some truth to them. It’s just a physical expression of’s NOT the moony, sparkly thing it’s made out to be in teen-girl fantasies, NOR is it the hush-hush, too-hot-to-be-handled-by-girls stuff which stoned guys our age(and adults) make it to be.
I'm swimming in dangerous waters now...time to stop. Yeah, I am feeling a leetle bit antagonistic now. Maybe I should shut up and just learn something I can do for my hubby to make up for my obvious flaws. Beating myself up again. Stop.
This post was definitely NOT what I had in mind when I started writing a bye-bye post for 2012.But I'm still going to publish it anyway and hope that none of my sudden and new-found readership runs away. And a heartfelt Thank you for all the comments. You guys have no idea how goofy the grin on my face is every time I see my comment number go one up(yep I'm disgustingly blog-stat greedy!)
But on a serious note, thank you.
And I somehow wanted to show off this new template layout and button gadgets and things to prove I've not been a lazy, do-nothing all this time...didja like it??

I wanted to tell you about Blackmore’s Night. They’re a musical duo with lovely music (and lovelier singer, guys!) and some Yanni favourites but this post would start looking like a YouTube Magazine if I linked all of them here, hence the music player at the bottom. It’s not on auto-play since I realised a lot many people find that irritating but go click the play button!*
And a noteworthy band I couldn't bear you not to listen to: RGM.
Their cover of Rihanna’s Diamonds more specifically (courtesy BrownGirlBloggin...she’ll have you ROFLing in a snap!)

Here’s to a scrumdiddlyumptious New Year and for those of you who are reading this in 2013, Hap Hap Happy New Year to yooou!

Happy Voldemort!Good omen or bad??
*I'm sorry but I got rid of the SCM player I mentioned after I realised it takes people ages to load my blog page.And I don't want people to leave in despair do I??! 
But you'll find the YouTube link to Blackmore's Night here.All their top tracks together and I specially recommend the first three.Have fun! 
Wednesday, 12 December 2012

I Hate Love-Stories

(Warning: Contains Spoilers...heck,it's the whole story.Don't tell me I didn't tell you!)
I just saw this movie, Thattathin Marayathu(or Behind the Veil)...Roy gave it to me saying he loved it and I didn't want to hurt him with my cynical singleton views on love(ha!) stories so I watched it.
For those of you who didn't know, I'm South Indian and the movie is in Malayalam (yeah with the loopy writing. Which you’re not going to understand).So here’s the story:

Hindu boy sees Muslim girl. They’re 10 years old. Or some other ridiculously small age to decide who you’re going to marry and talk like you’re an 18 year-old guy. Still, young Vinod decides little Aisha is the girl he’s going to marry. And tells God too.
Repeat after 10 years when he sees Aisha in a hospital after knocking her down some stairs when running during a Muslim friend's wedding. Enter young girl with stencil and secret message writing technique. Sorry Aisha. Aisha smiles. Vinod rapturous. Falling in love.
Manages to get a letter to her. She says nothing. Hero gets warned to leave the girl alone...still, he goes jumping over walls to meet her in the night. She still doesn't say anything. More falling in love. Song.

Enter rival in love. Our hero calls Aisha up to bitch(or whatever you call what guys say about each other) about Mr Rival.
Gets a telling off from a friend and he wants to meet her for the last time.
There she takes his hand, tells him that she doesn't want to be like the countless women she knows who hide their dreams behind a veil forever and hands him a letter. She loves him. He reacts with general Sreesanth-goes-to-Lords behaviour (Indian cricket. Ignore if not understood)
He gets beaten up by the girl’s family.

Scene: Police station.
Present time (because all that was a flash back when our hero was languishing in prison)
The police like his story and are kind-hearted (and have nothing else to do).They are going to help him in his quest.
Vinod walks out of his home due to family-pressure. Starts a helmet-business to earn money to woo Aisha.
Super successful (obvious in India where hundreds die on roads).They enlist the help of her tutor (typical) to smuggle letters and the romance blooms. And Vinod opens (or begins) a purdah shop where he kisses her on the forehead.
Best-friend: 3 months and you only got till the forehead??
Girl’s uncle caught in factory-workers strike due to a mining-accident or something.
Lover boy fends off party-workers attacking the uncle. Father angry and decides to send her off somewhere else to a new life.
Crying on both sides. Vinod arranges a last meeting with the help of elder sister Mehru.
Loved this dialogue: Aisha the girl will never forget you but Aisha the Muslim has to.

Crying in car. And pleas to stay and run away(on Vinod’s part).Aisha runs off into the rain.

Thoughtful uncle says this is wrong. Because it wasn't what Aisha’s late mother wanted for Aisha. What happened to Mehru (terrible failed arranged marriage) wouldn't happen to Aisha. Permission granted.

Beautifully happy Aisha tries his cell phone. Expectedly switched-off. Last-minute tension.
Has he killed himself??

Till they trace his phone to a port/bridge. They meet (Cue: confetti throwing!!) seen from behind the girl's head. Like in a fake kiss in a cheesy Hindi movie. But this is(supposed to be) real all right. Pretty considerate toward a parent-including audience.
Smart-aleck best-friend: Bugger finally got beyond the forehead.
Sweet as sugar smiles on everyone’s face.
 Lights on!

Maybe my synopsis hasn't been kind to the movie so for the interests of fairness,it was a sweet lovey-dovey romance of the innocent lambs type but not of the silly chunariya-udti Bollywood kind...depicted like only serious cinema can and Bollywood can’t. And the songs were pretty good too. The only problem: I couldn't watch it. However cynical and scoffy I sound here, every time the hero (what we call the male lead in India)went ultra lover soppy eyes at the lady or a very romantic song began I’d feel uncomfortable and skipped it. This is acceptable if you’re watching the stuff with anyone else but I wasn't.
Funny that I can’t handle two people making puppy eyes at one another when I don’t mind some hard core making-out between Jean Grey and Wolverine.
And I've been wondering why.
It’s just like singletons can’t bear to be around two people who are really in love. All the closeness. The privateness. It’s like your'e invading a person’s home when they’re singing in the shower (or having sex.Trust me to dramatise drama).
And this was a damn movie. They WANTED to be invaded. Still I couldn't.

Maybe I'm a jealous single 18 year old. Funny, because I really don’t want to date.
Or maybe the protagonists were REALLY in love and those love beams were seeping out from the movie. But no news of a scandal.
Or maybe it’s some spell or potion my parents have secretly fed me to keep me single (and out of the influences of romantic tosh) till they can marry me off. Highly unlikely. Though daddy’s Keep-the-family-name-high speeches do have a similar effect.
Or maybe I'm just not a romantic person. No. Because I do have crushes and things like that (yay, I'm normal. Take that, shrinks!)
Or maybe I should stick to cartoons. And X-men (anybody else think James Mc Avoy is geek-fantasy material? no one?), which is a pretty good lookout, so, oh yeah!

I rediscovered Cheb Khaled after another crazy 90’s music session with the family. And boy do I love the songs!

The first is an Aisha song I'm really's a remake of a Khaled song by Outlandish.But you can go watch the Khaled version on YouTube.
And the next is Didi. One of his most famous songs.You'll probably remember hearing it from your childhood like me!

And I have a job with A Lot of Pages...well, not a job. But it is a commitment so I reviewed Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. Boy was I crazy punch drunk after that book. You’ll find the review here!
Monday, 3 December 2012

The Winter Welcome Wagon!

December...the month of cold winds and warm blankets. And sneakers and socks. And boots and baking. And winter-blues and warm baths!
I've been busy with my final exams and even wrote a poem about it(which I’ll post soon),hence the lack of posts...but I'm back with(out) a bang!
Ooh and something I didn't mention in the previous list: Christmas and cooking!

Speaking of which, here’s a story I dug out from an old children’s storybook. It’s a story I've always loved and is perfect to go with all the cooking going on everywhere (which I'm sorely missing but anyway!)
The story is about Petal, an Elf who has newly moved to Elftown and is from ‘The Elegant Elf’ of the Little Library series by Parragon.

                      The Secret Recipe

Everyone in Elftown agreed that Petal’s restaurant was a great success, and one of the reasons was her extra special blueberry cake. Any elf who was feeling a little tired in the middle of the morning or around teatime simply hurried into the restaurant for a slice of cake. In two minutes he felt better...and ready for another slice!
Many elves asked Petal for the recipe of her special cake, but she would just smile mysteriously and shake her head.
“I was given this recipe by a very wise woman,” she said. “I promised her that I would not tell it to anyone else, unless they knew the secret already!”
That didn't seem to make sense at all. Why would anyone need to ask if they already knew the recipe?
Of all the elves who longed to know what Petal put in her blueberry cake, Old Mother Sedge was the most curious.
“I can taste honey,” she would say, munching a large slice.
“Yes,” said Petal. “It is honey from your own bees, Mother Sedge. Isn't it delicious?”
“And there are blueberries in here”“cried Mother Sedge triumphantly, taking another bite.
“Well, there would be, wouldn't there, in a blueberry cake?” smiled Petal. “Another slice?”
By the end of the week, and several more slices of blueberry cake, Old Mother Sedge had guessed all the ingredients except one. Yes, there was flour and butter and eggs. There were lots of blueberries and at least five dripping spoonfuls of honey. But what was the last ingredient?
“Nuts?” asked the old lady.
“What kind of nuts?” asked Petal in return.
“Hazelnuts? Brazil nuts? Peanuts? Pecans? Walnuts? Almonds? Cashews?” Mother Sedge was thinking so hard her face was as wrinkled as a walnut herself.
“No,” said Petal. There are no nuts in the cake at all.”
“Fruit?” asked Mother Sedge. “Apart from the blueberries?”
“What kind of fruit?”Asked Petal with a mysterious smile.
“Er...apples? Plums? Peaches? Blackberries? Raspberries? Pears? Strawberries? Apricots? Mangoes? Bananas? Nectarines? Pineapples? Prunes? Grapefruit? Oranges? Lemons? Blackcurrants? Redcurrants? White currants? Gooseberries?” Old Mother Sedge stopped to catch her breath.
“No,” laughed Petal. “I can tell you that blueberries are the only kind of fruit in my special cake.”
Poor Mother Sedge! The more she asked the less she knew.

Not exactly the picture I had in mind but it'll do...the boy can be Mother Sedge who's pissed off because Petal(the girl!) won't tell her the recipe!

Then, one morning, the old lady happened to visit Acorn when he was making an apple pudding for his supper.
“At least I know what goes into one of those,” she sighed, and she repeated all the ingredients one by one.
“That’s right,” said Acorn, “but for a really fine apple pudding, you've missed one out, or at least, that’s what my dear old mother used to say, bless her soul.”
“Not you too!” cried Old Mother Sedge. “There are more secret ingredients in Elftown than I've had hot dinners!”
“Not at all, my dear,” said Acorn. “The secret ingredient is the same in all my cooking and I must say it makes a difference. I'm quite sure that you know it as well as I do, but if you like, I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
So Acorn bent down and whispered the secret ingredient, and Old Mother Sedge went quite pink for a moment, before she smiled at her old friend.
“You’re quite right, of course” she said. “My mother used to say the same, and I've never tasted anything to beat her raspberry tarts...except perhaps Petal’s blueberry cake.”
Next time Old Mother Sedge sat down to a slice of Petal’s special creation, she smiled at the younger elf but asked no questions.
“I can see that you have guessed the secret,” laughed Petal. “The wise woman who told it to me was my mother. She said, ‘everything you make will taste better if you put in a little spoonful of love.’ That’s the secret ingredient in all my cooking.”
She was quite right, you know. You should try it sometime.

And to top this off, Here’s a video that’s keeping me from slipping into cold gloom!

P. S. The tune is really hummable and might turn into an earworm if you're not careful. Don’t say I didn't tell you!