Mint Lounge: I May Not Be An Indian

Yesterday, this article (http://www.livemint.com/2010/06/11211917/Breaking-news-I-may-not-be-an.html) by Mint Lounge editor, Priya Ramani, was probably the most read and most RTed article on Twitter (Well, it was the most RTed tweet on my timeline). I think it is a brilliant article. It takes a certain amount of courage to publish an opinionated article like that, knowing that she would face brickbats for it. And face brickbats she did.

To me, it seemed like a piece written one day in an outburst of emotion. The title and the tone of the article strongly suggest it. But then I think, the author got it all wrong. None of the things she wrote, mean that she is not Indian.

Being Indian does not mean you must like mangoes. Being Indian does not mean you've to read Chetan Bhagat or Paulo Coelho (I've read their bestsellers, and I'll run a mile away at the very sight of their books). What you wear or want to wear is your choice, being Indian has nothing to do with it. A few Bollywood actresses wear nothing at all. Does that make them any less Indian? I don't watch any Indian soap on air. In fact I hate them from the bottom of my heart. Does that make me non-Indian? Nor do I speak or even make eye contact with people in my compartment while travelling. So I'm not Indian?

No sense of pride when she's made to stand in attention in a movie theatre, but impatience that her popcorn's getting cold. Well, for the lack of another word, I'd say that that is an attitude problem, and still has nothing to do with being Indian. The first time I had to stand in attention for the national anthem in a movie theatre I did not feel pride, but I did feel a sense of renewed respect for the national anthem. After all, the Indian national anthem is known to be one of the most melodious anthems in the world, and that is something to be proud of really. Standing in attention for the national anthem is not about pride, but about respect.

Only girl child can save India? I think it's the mutual co-operation and respect between girls and boys, rather women and men that can save India. Girl child alone cannot. That, still, is her personal opinion. I don't see what it has to do with being Indian. The girl-boy disparity exists all over the world and not only in India.

We aren't the greatest people in the world. True, only a zealot would say otherwise. She never understood Indians' sense of (fake) pride, as she puts it, during the "Jai Ho" phase. Agree Jai Ho wasn't A. R. Rahman's best. I'd also like to say that Slumdog Millionaire isn't an Indian movie, but a movie about India made by a foreigner, and we need not feel proud that it won Oscars. But aren't we happy that A. R. Rahman, with that song, has catapulted Indian contemporary music (the kind I think the author likes since she doesn't like Lata's slow version of the national anthem) on to the world stage? Why shouldn't that make us happy, and proud?

We're always on steroids when it comes to festivals and weddings, she says. Diwali, she points out. Every country has its own traditions and way of celebrating festivals. If she were in another country, she'd probably rant about them too. Few days a year, people get to let go off all inhibition, be themselves and enjoy, and she says we're on steroids. Still, it isn't about not being Indian. The author probably needs to introspect her outlook towards life. Festivals and weddings are happy occasions meant for enjoyment.

Being Indian doesn't mean you've to believe in Ram Rajya. That's what the BJP believes in. I'm Indian and I don't believe in Ram Rajya. I strongly believe in secularism. That doesn't mean I'm not Indian.

Aren't there Indians that invite only about a 100 people to their daughters' weddings? How does the number of people invited to a wedding judge how much Indian one is?

The author has harped on the stereotype that outsiders have about Indians, and tried to fit herself in it. She didn't fit in. Doesn't mean she's not Indian.

In fact, I see it this way. I think she's sufficiently Indian because she came back to India after her master's. It's so much better than studying in India and taking all the knowledge abroad to serve another country. She's aware that India hasn't produced any serious scholars after independence. That bothers her. If she weren't Indian, would it? Dunking non-biodegradable idols into the ocean disturbs her. Doesn't that mean she's worried that we're polluting our own oceans? The very fact that she has pointed out where she thinks we might be wrong is proof enough that she's an Indian who wants change, however right or wrong her personal opinions are. I think all that the author of the article needs to do is look beyond her cynicism and look at the brighter side of things, accept certain customs and traditions. Some things (like Diwali) just won't change. You might as well enjoy them. You'll make memories.

Fly Little Wing

My favourite band is The Corrs. I was introduced to this band by a video on YouTube. It was a video of a little Korean (I think) girl singing Summer Sunshine so cutely while travelling by car. (Sadly, the video no longer exists) I instantly fell in love with the song and browsed the lyrics and got the song. A few months later, I was looking for some soft music on the internet when I came across a song sung by a woman. The music was the most melodious and harmonious I'd ever heard. It was freely available for download and I did. A few days later when I browsed the lyrics of the song, I found that this song was sung by The Corrs too. The song was "Runaway". The song I had downloaded wasn't the original but by some party singer. Slowly, I listened to all their their songs one after the other, each one just as good as the other. And now, three years later they're my favourite and THE BEST contemporary band I've known. I'd compare them to ABBA, all of whose songs I love.

It was only recently that I watched their interviews on YouTube. And boy was I impressed. Just like every favourite artiste of mine, they're so down-to-earth and humble. They speak of their success and fame as not really a big deal, as if it was a natural thing that happened to everybody every day. They said they made music because they loved it and that they were only fortunate that people loved their music and made them successful. They didn't make music with the aim of becoming huge pop stars one day, and that struck me. I love it when people do things just out of sheer love for it. Of course, people who make such wonderful music must be wonderful at heart as well which makes The Corrs even more endearing.

I recently went through my old files, files created over a year ago. They were mostly artwork, ringtones, recorded songs, attempts at stories and poems, postcards sent and received pictures of drawings in the corners of my class notebooks. I was surprised at all the things I'd done while in the hostel. I wouldn't do half of what I did then, now. And that's only because now, I feel pressured to create artwork to impress people, my teachers, my peers, my classmates. I want them to say it's good. And that has made me extremely conscious and over-critical of myself. That is turning out to be my biggest hindrance in completing animation assignments. It was so much better when I didn't have a deadline, didn't have expectations to cater to, did art because I loved it, when I did it for me, for the love of it, without having to care what somebody else thought of it. It's different now, and I despise it. I'm starting to doubt my ability to survive the animation industry when I have such difficulty in completing assignments. At the risk of sounding cliched, art is an expression of the soul. You can't keep me at gun point and make me do it.

Another reason for the apparent lack of interest in animation, is that I've found a new love interest. World history. And International Affairs. (Ha. What did you think?) I find myself desperately and frantically reading articles on history and international affairs (politics for now, but I want to read up on trade too) (Ironically, this was the part I hated the most during school.) All this reading and documentary watching on YouTube leaves little time for anything else. And by anything else, I mean lunch and dinner too. Yeah. It's that bad. And that's affecting my preparation for CAT too. I can no longer remember the 18s table.

So basically, after all this while, I still have no idea what I want to do in life. What is it that I'm really interested in, love doing, that would fetch me a decent salary? The MBA decision is only because there was no way I would spend the rest of my life coding and thinking about programming languages. I read that MBA is for people looking for a change of field. If there is another option, I'd be glad if you could let me know.

Trick or Treat: IPL

Boy, did I ever think the Chennai Super Kings would win this season of IPL. I was sure though that Mumbai Indians wouldn't win the tournament. They were at the top of the points table too long to win the tournament. Call it my clairvoyance, or Sod's law, or just plain common-sense. It was too clear that MI wouldn't win the title. And that means I win the bet with my sister and she now has to treat me (The poor little thing doesn't know that I cleverly manipulated the terms of the bet so the odds were on my side. *wink*)

For the first time, I watched so much cricket. I didn't really care about cricket or any other sport for that matter during season 1. But I do have one memory of season 1... singing Korbo Lorbo Jeetbo in the lift with my friends in college to the wrong tune, and my chagrined KKR-fan friends correcting me. Very much like the Kingfisher's Ooh La La La Le Oh ad.

Season 2 was when I was formally introduced to the format and that was when I learnt all about the game. I still wasn't exactly watching matches during season 2. I only watched the second innings of the final match in a room full of supporters of the Royal Challengers while I, all alone, supported the Deccan Chargers. The Deccan Chargers won, but I'd learnt my lesson. That I am an Indian and that means I must belong to a mob. Standing out of the crowd isn't so much fun.

Come IPL3, with a TV in my cute little rented haven which my mom totally despises, I decided to support RCB and watch a few matches (the reason not being the sport, but that I'd read somewhere that some BSchools were contemplating introducing "creative" topics such as cricket, hockey and football into Group Discussions. Yikes!). Anyway, I shook hands with the game, got to know the game better, made a few wonderful memories watching the game (such as the IPLGate, the Zoozoos, Dhoni's lost Maxx mobiles and the apple of everybody's eye, the MRF blimp!) and now I'm all set for IPL season 4 to support yet another team, and yet another set of ads.

That is, if the IPL is not scrapped. What started with Lalit K Modi's tweeting about the details of the Kochi team ownership has now snowballed into the biggest scam I've ever seen. Corporate honchos, Bollywood stars, politicians, the country's so-called "elite" all embroiled in the biggest controversy I've seen. I've always maintained that however entertaining the IPL matches are, it is a huge HUGE waste of economic resources. With more than half the country below poverty line, such extravagant display of wealth only heaps insult on the deprived. What's worse is that the owners of the teams call it a solely-business proposition, which is not wrong, but I'm disheartened to hear that they so blatantly ignore their responsibility towards society, the very reason they thrive and exist. Whatever happened to Corporate Social Responsibility. Why is it that when the IPL was played in South Africa last year, scholarships and gifts were given to children, teachers and schools there and when the game is played on home soil it becomes a solely business proposition devoid of social responsibility? Cricket and IPL's popularity could be leveraged to create awareness, to encourage people to improve their communities and solve issues.

The "breaking" news right now being Lalit Modi's suspension, I heard a reporter on some news channel saying, "After half a decade of friendship between BCCI president Shashank Manohar and Lalit Modi, the BCCI president heaved a heavy blow on Mr. Modi" Uh. Hello. What the hell. What else is Shashank Manohar supposed to do? Grant amnesty because Modi is a friend? If he did that, he'd be accused of favouritism. He suspends Modi and such statements are made. If I were in Shashank Manohar's place and I had to suspend a close friend for nefarious activities, I'd do it. With a heavy heart. But do it, nonetheless. What Modi did was wrong and he must face consequences. A wrong is a wrong. Is a wrong.

Is a wrong.

The Opposite of Pet Peeves

I understand that it's not very easy to convey emotions and intent
through the written medium for many of us. Trying to precisely convey
those emotions could make it wordy and not many of us are that patient
or good with words. We try and avoid using too many words and
consequently have evolved a multitude of ways to implicitly express
intent and emotion. After over a decade of emailing, over six years of
SMSing and a little under a year of Gtalking with friends, a few
things about informal written communication have made into my pet
peeve list.
#1 hi....................... or ok......................

What's with the million full stops? What are you trying to say with
'.........................'? I understand 'hiiiiiiiii' but what the
hell does 'hi..........................' mean? Three dots, optimal.
Four, maximum. More than that, sound of nails on chalkboard.
#2 i told ma motha tht i cud neva eva do dat

Aaaarrrgh! This really should be my #1 pet peeve. I could slap the
person if he/she were in front of me. Unfortunately, when this happens
the person is always miles away. Those who think writing 'ma' for
'my', 'motha' for mother, 'neva' for never, 'eva' for ' ever' and
suchlike is cool, please, it's disgusting. Makes me think very low of
you. None of the other pet peeves manage to do that. But this one
does. Thankfully, none of my friends do that. Except one. When that
friend messages, I call him back. Just to avoid seeing his messages
that neva fail to get ma dander up.
#3 K

That's the worst reply one could send me. Following closely, is 'Ok'
or any such one-word replies. I've grown accustomed to it though. Even
then, I find it impolite and impersonal. Makes me feel unimportant, as
if the person thinks I don't deserve the energy to type a whole
sentence, or at least, the whole word (in case of 'K'). I'd be happy
if the sentence was complete, as in, "Ok, I'll be there" or "Ok,
7o'clock it is" or even, "Ok, sure." or at the very least, "Ok :)"
#4 This is a sentence that so needs exclamation, don't you think!!!!!!

I confess to being a perpetrator of this heinous crime for a while,
but then one day epiphany happened and it became a pet peeve. I notice
people using exclamation marks when it really isn't necessary. Makes
me wonder what's so wondrous about what he/she is saying. That, still,
is forgivable. What irks me more is the use of multiple exclamation
marks!!!! What do two or more exclamation marks do that a single
exclamation mark doesn't? I'll forgive the use of two exclamation
marks occasionally for greater emphasis, when one wants to show that
one is enormously surprised, but otherwise I'd rather that people keep
exclamation marks to a minimum and if indispensable, don't use more
than one. Use that energy that you spend in typing that extra
exclamation mark for other productive activities. Like inserting space
after a full stop.
#5 "cool when did u go how is ur family good say hi to them" or
"cool.when did u go.how is ur family.good?say hi to them"

Though not inserting space after a full stop in SMSes doesn't annoy me
much, not using full stops at all can annoy me if I'm in a sour mood
already. But miss a full stop in an email or miss the space after a
full stop, the sender, mostly a friend, is sure to see the smoke from
fireworks at my end.

Which brings me to the real topic of this post. The opposite of pet peeve.
Remember when a new friend (of the opposite sex) SMSes you for the
first time? "Hi Manasa, what you doing?" is the most common first SMS
I've received over the years. And there was never a time when I
genuinely wanted to reply to such an SMS. I reply, just to be polite
and not to be too snobbish. I have absolutely no interest in the
inane pointless conversation that is to follow after the 'what you
doing' question. Unless, of course, he/she says "Manasa, you are the
best" and I say, "I know... Tell me more :D"
Today, a friend, a new friend (who I never spoke to while in college,
and who I hardly spoke to during my brief stint at Infosys) who I
befriended, after several meetings at my best friend's home, a movie,
some PS3 games video-watching and a photo, sent me his first SMS. It
wasn't the dreaded "What you doing?" question. It was the perfect
conversation starter. It was different. I was impressed. This type of
conversation-starter SMS suddenly became the opposite-of-a-pet-peeve.
Opposite of pet peeve. Whatay long phrase. What's the word or a phrase
that means the opposite of pet peeve? After much brain-racking and
producing zilch, I went to Google for help and found out there really
wasn't a commonly used phrase for it. Though I did find some
interesting words people use to mean the opposite of pet peeve -
Kinks
Quirks
The little things (that make life worth it)
Cheap thrills
Right-ons
Warm fuzzy
Simple pleasures
Secret delight
Undomesticated peeves
Buttons
Personal favourite
Feel-good moments
Soft spot
Pet likes
Turn-on
Fetish
Guilty pleasure

I think 'secret delight' comes close to the opposite of a pet peeve, no?

CAT it out!

Me: Brain, if you manage to memorize the seventh power of three, I'll give you the square root of fifteen... for free!
Brain: Ha. You think I'll fall for that?
Me: *sigh*
Brain: *wink*

That's how my CAT prep's going. To the dogs. Maybe I need a CATnap.

Angel on earth

Who's the angel on earth?

Aww... Thanks! But no, it's not me. It's this little girl from Music Ka Maha Muqabla who was also a participant on Star Voice of India. Anwesha Dutta, like I already mentioned in one of my previous posts, before you truly madly deeply fell in love with my blog. Listen to her sing and I bet you'll experience heaven. Too bad her team didn't win MKMM. Then again, since the winners were Shankar Mahadevan's team I'm not complaining either.

Here... the angel from heaven with an earthly mortal, singing one of my favourite songs... Tere Mere Milan Ki Ye Rainaa..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7V4NHyjswXM

This is isn't her best performance or anything, but it's beautifully sung. If you want to watch her best performance, listen to her rendition of Mere Dholna/Ami Je Tomar from Bhool Bhulaiya on Star Voice of India. It'll blow your mind away!

It's only words. And damaged eyes.

Reading is supposed to expunge short-sightedness. Right? Ironically, you see, the more I read, the more myopic I become. The more I feel the need to get my eyes checked. All this while I prided myself on having a perfect 20/20 vision, and now... kisiki nazar lag gayi... literally.

All this short-sightedness is to be blamed on the extensive non-stop reading I've been doing over the past six months or so, with my E63 or the newspaper or the magazine at an eyelash's distance from my eyeballs. Now, totally intending to show-off, I must tell you, as background info, that I've been dabbling in a wide range of subjects, from art to literature to poetry to mythology to drama to music to philosophy to psychology to economics to politics to blah to blah to oh-how-i-love-to-show-off to blah to blah. These 'wide-range of subjects' have nothing to do with what I have to say. It has more to do with my reading articles, mostly editorials, from the Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Guardian, Forbes India along with our Indian counterparts such as The Hindu, The Times of India and The Economic Times. You don't believe? While I say all this is as true as Mayawati not using taxpayers' money for her statues? How dare.

Anyway, the point is this. My most striking observation of all this reading is a noticeable difference in the writing styles of Indian journalists and foreign journalists. As a newbie who has just forayed into the world of editorial-page reading, I find articles by foreign writers much easier to understand and comprehend than the ones written by Indian writers or journos. The difference lies in the sentence construction and the choice of words. Give me an article and I might just be able to tell you with a fair amount of accuracy if the article is by an Indian or a foreigner. Not trying to demean Indian journalism or anything (Mera Bharat Mahan!), but I must say, with a heavy heart, that Indian writing has a hint of pompousness and pretentious diction in it. I find most of the times, the sentences incoherent and need to be read twice to be comprehended. They're not speed-reading material. Unlike the foreign counterparts. Be it a Chinese journalist, a Korean journalist, an African journalist, a British journalist or an American journalist, I find the articles by these foreign journalists much easier to discern and analyse. This, only because of their simple sentence construction and choice of words that are in the realm of a literate person as opposed to a person with journalistic vocabulary. Indian journalists tend to use complex sentence constructions and heavy, unusual words way beyond the comprehension of an ordinary literate person. They use words like, "wedbedrip", "fysigunkus", and "xertzing". Yes. They do. No. Don't open the dictionary. These words don't exist. Unless you google them out. Of course, we do have great writers, but the numbers of these 'typical' Indian journalists far outnumber the good ones.

Now now, I'm not against vocab building. I love learning new words. If it weren't for Indian writing I'd never know that 'wedbedrip' meant 'a full day's reaping from a tenant's land that feudal lords demanded from tenants'. Or that 'fysigunkus' meant 'a person with absolutely no curiosity'. Or that 'xertzing' meant 'swallowing quickly and greedily'. But I do think newspapers must keep a check on the usage of such unusual words. At least, newspapers. No. Especially, newspapers. I find it frustrating when I have to open the dictionary more than twice per page/article. I lose the flow of thought and have to reread the sentence or the paragraph again to make something of it. It's ok to have difficult words, but an article shouldn't have too many of them. Articles by foreign reporters rarely, if ever, make me go to the dictionary. Their articles are lucidly written. Which is weird. Because I always thought it would be the other way round. And I think that's the reason why I know more about the other countries than I know about my own. Newspapers are supposed to cater to a huge demography to keep them informed and educated about what's happening around them. Not everybody has a journalistic vocabulary, and not everybody is an English major. Journalists need to concentrate more on reporting comprehensibly than on flaunting their vocabulary. Few Indian journalists seem to be doing that. Journos, when will you ever learn?

Then again, I've no plans to emigrate neither are our journos going to change and I, therefore, have no choice but to combat this issue by equipping myself with 'sesquipedalian' words. Ha. Since I'm also planning to enter the field of business administration, I also need to win the battle of learning to say things like, "We 'repurposed' the product to create 'synergies' and expand its 'parameters'. Please 'interface' with the relevant parties, 'dialogue' with the manager and try to 'incentivize' him and his staff" which in "real" English makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Can't wait!

Of Fourth Estate, climate change and the worst ad ever - part1

I didn't mean to be so quiet here for so long. In fact, one of my
lesser important new year resolutions was to update my blog at least
once every week. I wanted to make posts on the climate change fiasco,
the IPL-SRK-ShivSena thingie and a few other things as well. And then
one day, I saw on TV, a member of the public making exactly the same
comments on our neighbours being snubbed that I was to make here in a
blogpost on the same day that I wanted to update. It would make me
feel like I was plagiarising those thoughts and so I settled on doing
it at a later point in time, some day in an obscure area of a
blogpost.

I'd been to Hyderabad recently. Finally. Had a fun time. For the first
time, I liked biryani. And for the first time, I was surrounded all
around by men with moustaches. Scary.

People around me always compared Bangalore and Hyderabad, and I always
wondered why. Now that I've seen both places for myself, here is my
ruling - Bangalore scores high on pleasant weather while Hyderabad
scores high on landscape. Everything else is pretty much the same.
Only, Bangalore doesn't have as many men with moustaches as Bangalore.
Score!

My family received news of my paternal grandfather's demise while at
Hyderabad, so we had to make a trip to my native place, Sompeta for
the '12th day rites' after meeting my maternal grandmother in
Berhampur, Orissa. Her dynamism amazes me. Sompeta is just a few
kilometres from the AP-Orissa border, about 40kms from the famed
'Ichchapuram'. It's the first village you see after crossing the
border from Berhampur aka Brahmapur in Orissa. We went to Sompeta by
car. It was an amazing experience seeing rural India with the remix of
'dil to bachcha hai ji' playing on full volume in my ears. Awesome! It
was a Shah-Rukh-Khan-from-Swades type experience. So different from
the world I know and live in. It made me wonder if these women working
in fields were really happy with what they were doing, if they desired
something more and better, did they know there's another world out
there completely different from their own, did they know I was
watching them in awe and amazement wondering how it would be to be
living a life like that. How would it be if all of these people moved
to cities, or if this little village turned into a city? We depend so
much on them. If it weren't for these men and women working hard under
the scorching sun we wouldn't be eating all the vegetables we're
eating. We would be surviving on chocolates. Which still is awesome.

Sompeta is a village. It was only the second time I was visiting this
place. There were few known people when I reached and until cousins
arrived that evening my only source of entertainment was Dork - The
Incredible Adventures of Robin 'Einstein' Varghese. Sidin's book. The
beginning disappointed me. I was expecting so much Sidin. The only
thing that kept me going was it's uncanny resemblance to my own
journal writing style. The style, the voice, same to same! Alas, I
can't provide proof.

Back in the village, I met 98% of my relatives from dad's side. Two
weddings that were in the pipeline before grandfather's demise are
still in the pipeline. The death didn't change a thing. The most
scandalising moment I had there was when a girl told me that she was
'chosen' by the guy for marriage ONLY because she was 'slim'. All the
girls he had seen until then were 'fat' and he and his family wanted a
girl who was 'slimmer than he was'. I heard the whole story with my
mouth open. The guy 'warned' the girl not to grow fat. I couldn't
believe my ears. This could not be happening. Even in a village. Is
that how marriages in villages take place? Just then, an aunt appeared
with another relative who I wasn't acquainted with. She introduced me
to her and then went on to tell her about why my sister couldn't make
it. And then she said, "She is much prettier. She's active and
smarter. Too bad she couldn't make it". It was demoralising. If it
weren't for the conversation I had earlier about marrying for
thinness, I would have spent the rest of the day sulking. It wasn't
the first time somebody compared my sister's and my looks. And no
doubt, my sister is so much more prettier than I am, and much more
outdoorsy and fun than I am, but it still hurts every time someone
does that. It's very shallow of them to say things like that. I may
not have the looks, but I do have other good things about me that
people could appreciate. Anyway, what this relative did was undone by
mum's side relatives the next night when we visited mum's younger
sister's family in Vishakapatnam.

People who say Hyderabad's landscape was good clearly haven't seen
Vishakapatnam by night. The lights there are not man-made, they're
god-made. Like stars on earth. Taare Zameen Par. The road from the
railway station to BHPV is in its own right, an unplanned wonder of
the world. A sight to see. It was so beautiful. Heaven must be like
this. Back to the undo button, my mum's sister said Asin reminded her
of me. Ahem. I'm not that fond of Asin, but I truly deeply sincerly
appreciate the sentiment. And then swoops in my cousin. Deepu. He said
I reminded him of Priyanka Chopra. Can you believe that? Priyanka.
Chopra. Piggy Chops. Our very own, my favourite Piggy Chops. Yay! We
had to catch a plane to Chennai early next morning and had little time
for conversation. Deepu, Sandeep and I slept in a room and we talked
and talked and talked until we heard snores from the next room. I was
surprised how Deepu told me about all those things he wouldn't tell
his mum or dad. Being a good sister that I am, I counselled and guided
him a little. He seemed to get convinced. And I did all this in
Telugu. With negligible helpings of English. Am I awesome or what?

Air India sucks.

Robin Einstein Varghese kept me company on the train from Chennai to
Bangalore. I finished the book on the journey. The story in itself
wasn't so great. There is nothing 'incredible' or 'adventurous' about
the story, nor did I laugh like I've never laughed before, as the book
claims. It is a good book nonetheless, for light reading, when you've
got nothing better to do. I wouldn't buy the next two volumes if I
wasn't truly madly deeply in love with Sidin's writing. What? Who is
this Sidin Vadukut? If you don't know who Sidin Vadukut is, you might
as well go and live in Afghanistan. Or Kazakhstan. Here -
www.whatay.com Read it and laugh like you've never laughed before.

While alighting from the train, I saw a girl and a guy.
Girlfriend-Boyfriend. Public display of affection freaks me out.

With the new people I follow on twitter, most of them journalists, I
can't help but notice that they are always complaining. About the
decisions our politicos are making. It's true, our politicos don't
always make decisions that please all citizens, but I do think running
a country is not easy and it's impossible to please everybody. Would
all these incessantly complaining journalists do a better job if they
were at the helm of running a country? If the decisions bother them so
much, shouldn't they do something about it? Stop complaining, if you
don't want to do anything about it.

Now that I've started ranting about the Fourth Estate, let me also say
that Barkha Dutt, who I had so much respect for, lost some of it after
her interview with SRK recently regarding his comments on IPL
auction. I totally support SRK's views. Sports and politics should be
kept separate. What did the Pak players do to deserve this rejection?
It was highly humiliating for them. And for us. When I heard the news,
the first thing that my mind said was, "Oh no! This is not good" and I
immediately knew we would see a series of terror attacks soon. And we
did. We brought it on ourselves. I'm worried about the Commonwealth
Games and IPL3 that will take place here. We've angered our neighbours
so much it's would be foolishness to think we have enough security to
ward off a terror attack. Was saving some money more important than
our fragile relationship with our neighbour? You can earn that money
back, but will you able to earn trust from Pakistan after the snub?
There's nothing to gain by fighting and hating our

Of Fourth Estate, climate change and the worst ad ever - part2

our neighbours. Shiv Sena slammed SRK's views on this. So what's the
big deal? Why did the media make it an issue? Would the media do the
same thing if it happened to Rakhi Sawant? Day after day... the media
just didn't get enough. As if there weren't more important things
happening around the globe. Barkha Dutt, you too? :(

So climate change isn't happening. Does that mean you can continue
polluting the environment? Is there something called 'too early to go
green'? Countries need not make carbon cuts as high as 40% or even
25%. Now that climate change isn't happening, we could start with 15%.
It's never too early to mend.

1411 tigers left. I get that. Now what? How is blogging about it going
to help the tigers? What a stupid useless campaign. Apprehend the
people who are involved in killing the tigers. What's the public
supposed to do? There are issues bigger than saving tigers. The 'Save
Fuel' campaign makes more sense to me. Their ads are very good and
effective. They hit you where it hurts the most. The pocket.

Bikini-clad woman and J K Cement. Worst ad ever. What were they
thinking? The ad guys who made it (and approved it) must be total
perverts.

The opposition walked out of the Lok Sabha when the Finance Minister,
P Chidambaram announced a hike in petrol and diesel prices in the
Budget session today. Is resorting to such substandard tactics the
only way to show resentment and disagreement? Sigh. Anyway, I thought
hiking prices wasn't such a bad idea. I don't know if climate change
and environment pollution was on PC's mind when he decided to hike
prices, but it is a good move if that was what made him do it. People
will now judiciously use fuel and contribute towards a greener
environment.

Is there a movie on Nelson Mandela?

The Climb

Miley Cyrus writes the nicest songs. After her Ready, Set, Don't Go in 2007, The Climb is the next song that I can relate to word-to-word. My friends listen to me talk about how I enjoy all the free time I have, the movies I watch, the shopping I do, the people I meet, the things I do. Most of them envy me. If my friends knew my priorities right, they'd know that the things I tell them are only one side of the coin. The other side is a struggle, a battle that I lose every once a while. A battle with myself to remain focussed, determined and motivated. And to believe that this is the road that leads me to that little dream I'm dreaming. Living alone in a big city with no one to tell me what to do and what not to do, having total control of my life, with parents relinquishing all control of me, it's hard to remain focussed. And with my parents putting in all their trust and belief in the decisions I've taken, there are times when I doubt myself and feel totally lost and confused. This is where the song comes, and inspires me to go on. It's not about what's waiting on the other side, but the climb.

Here are the lyrics of that song that inspires me so much.

The Climb, by Miley Cyrus.

I can almost see it
That dream I'm dreaming, but
There's a voice inside my head saying
You'll never reach it
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking
But I, I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

These struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down, but
No, I'm not breaking
I may not know it, but
These are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, Yeah
Just gotta keep going
And I, I gotta be strong
Just keep pushing on

Coz... There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

P.S. I'll put up the song on a flash player for you to listen to sometime soon. When I have access to a PC. For now, enjoy the lyrics.