I love walking down the street and seeing faces and drama and happiness and sadness and dirt and cleanliness.

Yesterday I was hurrying to catch my office bus when I noticed the huge trees on the 100ft road in Indira Nagar getting a trimming. When I say huge trees and trimming… I want you to imagine the magnitude. Thank God, it was just a grooming business that happened and not a complete destruction of the being that has seen more generations pass by than any human. I was wondering what it would feel like to get on top of those trees and do the task of chopping it off.

All said & done, who clears the mess that was left behind. This blog is not about cutting or planting trees. Today I write about the people whose life keeps haunting me since the day I started working in Chennai. My job there required me to start to office by 6.50am…when the city was just waking up and prepare for the bright day ahead.

My hostel was just around the normally very busy area of Adayar where people of all working class flock together. The few minutes I wait for the first bus to go to my office will remain ever green in my memories. The bus stop was just opposite to a Hindu temple and adjacent to a mosque. The heart melting music from the temple and the verses read in the Dharga failed to impress me over the other sound that fell as music to my ears.

It was the sound of the brooms of the street sweepers. I bet no one is as dedicated and patient like these people who do this not very pleasing job. Of course, they have taken up this job for feeding their family. In their hardship, I saw the gods I failed to see in any of the holy places.

The area I’m talking about has lots of petty food joints and Biriyani centers. With no proper garbage disposal system, the road corners become the major dumping zone for all the wastages. The stink & the mess would make anyone to puke if they stay there for more than few minutes. The workers I saw every morning cleaning up these mass looked more pious to me than Mother Teresa. But by the end of the day, it is back to square one.

In Bengalooru too, I push myself to work in the IT sector after having a glimpse of these divine beings every morning. Few of the regular cleaners see me almost everyday as I rush to work and know me too, that we smile at each other and move on.

After knowing the life of these people, I vow to myself every now & then not to litter & pollute my surroundings… but habits die hard. My attempts to store the biscuit/ chocolate wrappers, bus tickets, etc until I find a garbage bin have failed 50% of the times. I know am not a perfect citizen… but am still trying to help stop pollution. I wish you would too :)

Certainly this is a duty, not a sin. "Cleanliness is indeed next to godliness."

There is no real evil in life, except great pain; all the rest is imaginary, and depends on the light in which we view things.

For the first time in my very short blogging experience, today I write about some unpleasant thoughts that keep haunting my life recently…

Many know me as an extrovert, fun to have me around, bubbly, mature, etc. May be I am all that to the outer world. Only those very close to me realize that am a wet blanket at many occasions, a pain in the neck, and an indecisive, callow person.

Who actually am I? Why do I appear as two different person to myself and to those around me? I do not know. But the only truth I can stick to is… I do not fake about what I am to others, and NEVER to the ones close to my heart. Is that why they find me to be such a weirdo? If am a weirdo, why do I still find them close to me? What am I?

Too many questions… too many answers with lots of ifs and buts. Where would I find a teacher who would look into my answers to the questions I throw at myself and evaluate what is right and what went wrong. God… it’s a very complicated thought that keeps running in my mind and takes me into a labyrinth of unwanted ideas. But who decides which idea is necessary and which is not.

I know am rebellious in many ways compared to the kith I grew up with. Though the elders around knew what I was asking or doing was most often logical and practical… I was forced to succumb to the “society” culture that’s prevails. I’ve tried to be part of the so called ‘live & let live’ life and have often let others live their life rather than look back and decide to LIVE my life. I know that’s a huge sacrifice that I did. The worst pain a human can suffer is to have insight into much and power over nothing. That’s my story.

Love… what a complicated four lettered feeling. I’ve read --> “Love means exposing yourself to the pain of being hurt, deeply hurt by someone you trust.” Does it mean that to trust and love your family is to feel pain all your life? If I had known and was taught that love brings pain, I would have remained an atheist to love.

I would quote Vivekananda here - ‘This misery that I am suffering is of my own doing, and that very thing proves that it will have to be undone by me alone. That which I created, I can demolish; that which is created by someone else, I shall never be able to destroy. Therefore, stand up, be bold, be strong. Take the whole responsibility on your own shoulders, and know that you are the creators of your own destiny. All the strength and succor you want is within ourselves.’

They are too good to read and fathom the words. Wish I could get the strength to take the responsibility for my own miseries.

Sometimes waiting for a solution is the best solution. Other times, forgetting unpleasant moments are the solutions. “Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.”

Sorry this one is a little depressing… I just found a small vent to my thoughts through this… I believe this outlet will take me through this day in a better way.

To all readers...Have a Great Life ahead :)

When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane :)

Promotion again…. From the most loved position to not-yet-fond-of position.

All these days riding my bicycle (BSA SLR – Light & Sporty) and then my mo-bike (TVS Scooty EZ) was itself a mind blowing, emotion filled time for me. After more than a quarter century of two wheelers bliss, I decided it was time for a promotion.

Just last week, I completed my 9 days of the 10days’ 4 wheeler driving classes. At last I’ve crossed another milestone in my life. My wish to meet the growing traffic face to face, taking charge of the wheels, from within an enclosure named CAR, became true. This of course is an achievement to me, to drive out into the raging motor world not knowing who or what is on your left or right or below or behind. Ok people… stop laughing now… am talking about the first few days when I actually started driving.

Let me tell u wat happened since the day I went to get my Learners License. One such other day, my friend from office kept telling he had to leave early for the day & had some very IMPORTANT personal work. As with all, I bugged him to tell me abt it and his reason was to collect his Driver’s License from the RTO.

The little devil in me tempted me to take up the driving classes the very next day. I went all geared to the Driving Institute with 6 fotos, pport copy & other proofs. Got enrolled… met the assistant RTO… she assigned me to the written test to get the Learner’s License… I came out with flying colors…. Not on paper, but in my face. My face held the colors of shame, ignorance, embarrassment, etc … ‘coz I failed the test :D

With a never say No attitude, I went back after 2 days to get my LL. This time it was an Oral Test and I transferred the colors on my face to the result sheet and came out with a victorious grin.

From next day to the next 9 days, in the wee hours of the day (6.30am – 7.30am), began the wonderful adventure. With ABC started my class… Accelerator, Brake & Clutch.
It went on like left indicator… half turn to left… indicator off… right indicator on… full turn to right… slow down clutch break… clutch that gear.. clutch this gear, left-right-straight reverse… etc and more etc. Uffff…. What an experience…. Not to me but my driving instructor.

I know he would have seen more difficult students. But the tension I built up every time I saw a heavy vehicle near us, pushed the extra heat to him as well. At last day 9 class to is over. At some point during these days, I felt I should have opted to become a pilot 'coz I would’ve been able to drive alone on the run-way and fly alone in the sky-way J.

Am now waiting for the D-day when I can utilize the last hour of training and feel good that the 3000 bucks I paid was of worth only after I get the much esteemed Driver’s License.

Did I tell u something… I still don’t know how to use the wiper, parking light indicator, open the bonnet or the one behind… or to double park or to have a relaxed expression on my face while driving. I’ve to learn all these except the last point before I face the RTO officer. The thing abt the smile… I believe I’ll get it as my driving days keep increasing.

To tickle your funny bone a little: You know, somebody actually complimented me on my driving today. They left a little note on the windscreen; it said 'Parking Fine.'

Slow.. Slower... Slowest... thats the mantra....

'The victory is not always to the swift' but 'Slow and steady wins the race'

This happened a few days back when I was traveling in a city bus in Pune, India (one of my very few bus travels there) and was wondering how could a bus possibly be able to travel at the speed of, say… 10 – 20 kmph. It was that slow that I looked out the window and saw the walkers on the pavement overtake the bus I was traveling.
Just then did I realize that the reason for this super speed of the bus -- an imp of a guy, determined to ride his bicycle in the middle of the road, just in front of the bus in just the speed to irritate every one around.

As always, I was immediately transported to my childhood days in our residential quarters. That fun filled days of bicycling our way through all the blocks in the campus still lingers in my mind.

Come weekends & vacation and so will come my dads ideas to escape from us. The look on our face when we beg dad for 1 re each… for me & my brother… the look on my dad’s face not wanting to part with coins every other hour on all those holidays … is just toooo unforgettable. Wondering why?? Those are the times when just one or two kids in the block had a bicycle on their own and all other kids would run to the cycle shop that rents out cute little cycles for 50ps per hour. Then again, we had only 2 cycle shops in our locality at that time and its on first come first basis & we were like so MANY kids around.

Even today, when I feel the top of my head… I remember the knuckle knocks my brother so very lovingly implanted on my head to teach me to ride the tine-vine bicycle. Going on wild races with buddies in our residential block… like I would definitely say ‘Feeling the breeze in my hair’ was an experience by itself. What do u say?

Some times, when I think of some of my friends who came from the richer crowd, I really do pity them. Yes of course, they had their own bicycles but not the fun to be the first to run to the cycle shop and rent out the bicycle that was just right for ur size. Yes... they did have friends to play along with… in closed compound walls, with just one bicycle… either theirs or their friends.. Wherever they were at that time. But us… it was all the crazy kids could care for… hoots & yells & giggles when one crashed into another... not intentionally though. A crash here when few of us were learning to ride it, another bang since the brakes had failed or rather never existed, a crash there when the more experienced show off & bang into a hard wall… what fun those were.

Now all set to ride the bicycle in good speed & good balance… we thought & knew it was an achievement. Then came the Republic Day sport competition in our quarters.. and there were words around that cycling competition was introduced for the first time. This time it was dad who asked us to take part. By this time, my brother had a cycle of his own & he very caringly went out early & got me a rented bicycle.

We were there all fresh & saluting our national flag… orange mittai (sugar candy) distributed, cheeks bulging, tongue colored and too eager that our enthusiasm was infectious. First came frog race, then sack race, running race, and and and… it went on. Finally they called in the participant for slow cycling race. Hello… am I hearing it right? Did we hear it right? SLOW cycling? Cycling to us was always synonymous with SPEED. We looked into each other’s face & thought, what the heck - we’ll do it.

And we did it as well. Of course we dint win. Our society secretary’s kid won the prize… a cute little stainless steel tumbler and we were jealous. We dnt know anything about the race and he did it like an expert. The slowest and the steadiest won the race. How wonderfully the proverb suits this event.

I did take part in many more slow cycling events but never did I win any. I realize now that I did it to prove myself that I tried doing something against the law… against the word wat bicycle stands for… speed & equilibrium. But, I think nature wanted me to take things as they are meant for... something different at times & try that as well. All is fair in luv & war (ok... races).

By the way… I also know ‘Too much is too bad’… So here ends my gibberish about one of my childhood freak-outs. If I had some how rekindled some long lost memories of yours... somewhere that was deep within you… I’m happy & glad that that I could touch someone’s heart in a nice way.

Being a leader is not power, it means responsibility.

“As a child of God, I am greater than anything that can happen to me.”

What a verse… what perseverance… some day, when I own a house, this phrase is sure to hold a framed position in my meditation room, to keep me reminded.. This too will pass.
I know as usual am confusing my lovely readers with the difference in the blog topic and the above couple of lines. This time… am all set to write about a person we all know and never got to know him well enough.
Yeah… as the picture would ‘ve spoken to u already, am definitely going to talk about our one & only Dr. Avul Pakir Jainulabdeen Abdul Kalam (Birth Oct 15th, 1931), the 12th President of India (18 July, 2002 – July 25th 2007). My major reason to be attracted to him other than him being the President is our mutual luv for the color BLUE.
Here, I sincerely hope I don’t republish wat we’ve known thru fwd mails --- about the handful of civilian awards that were bestowed on him, his contribution to the astro world, his luv for the humanity, languages, Bagavath Gita, Quran, Thirukural or being a vegetarian food, teetotaler, with a vision of developed India, a poet, orator, author, etc. All I want to think is about how much did I learn from him. Lets say, may be a percentage of around … may be… a null percentage. I can claim that 90% of my readers feel the same way when we look back & realize if we really appreciate his presence in his 5 yrs tenure.
The day he was sworn in as the president of India, my happiness knew no bounds, I literally shed a tear of joy to know that some one I’ve heard abt as a intellect is goin to rule the country. Hello… this does not mean that other presidents were not as good as him or anything… its only that am not a very politically inclined person & know nothing more than the names of the president, prime minister and chief minister of my state as of today. That’s it.
I’ve lived 25yrs of my life in a government owned residential quarters… similar to Kalamji. Ok, to be Rashtrapathi Bhavan is also a govt. quarters, but to the President. Though I claim to be a very fwd minded, independent woman, I doubt if I would let strangers walk into my garden to admire the beauties it with held. When we couldn’t decide on our own house, I really appreciate the way Dr.ji trust his fellow Indians to walk his grounds. I’m learning to TRUST from him.
Ardent Muslim, devoted to Bagavath Gita as well… did I hear right about this news about him? An acquaintance told me that it’s a rumor, just to create a sense of unity btwn the Hindu & the Muslim citizens. But then, I don’t believe he had to be reading it all through his life and following the lessons in the hope that he would one day be a President and show case this habit. From this, I should be learning EQUALITY IN RELIGION and their values.
The first time his permission was sought to nominate him as for President, though with reluctance, he did agree. After 5 long years of Presidential experience and when few good souls requested him about his idea for a second period… I read him as saying, ‘If you would give your word that I would be elected again, then I would compete’. No wish for the power or greediness to the throne could woe him. He’s a great learner, to know the truth of politics from experience, good or bad. From this I learn to be GOOD JUDGE OF SITUATION.
I can go on like this… but this being a blog, I stop myself from writing a book. I’ve not paid much attention to any one in politics as much as I did on the last day of Kalamji’s job as a President. Once again, just as on his first day as a president, I shed few more tears… with hopes that India would get a visionary like him as a ruler again & hopes to see a developed India by 2020. I’ve begun to dream of self growth… for I believe, mass growth of individuals both economically and as a person, means the growth of the nation.

My only concern is, when the effective leader has finished with his work, I hope the world doesn’t say it happened naturally.

Jai Hind.

The modern little red riding hood, reared on singing commercials, has no objections to being eaten by the wolf.

"If you don't get noticed, you don't have anything. You just have to be noticed, but the art is in getting noticed naturally, without screaming or without tricks."


This is yet another addition to the things I admire with awe. It has become part of our life… juz like most other things we see everyday and take it for granted. There had been more than one instances when I’d actually missed the usual one or one of my favs.

Straight to the point is what my friends want me to do. Before I go on abt it, I owe a Cornetto if u’ve guessed by now wat I’m yapping about. (No cheating…okie?).

Its all about the make believe world of Advertisements. The first ever advertisement that I remember is that of Hamam soaps. The way the ad of this company has evolved over the quarter century is overwhelming. The ads match the latest trend in every way. This is just an example that jumped out of my memory. The adv, which I admired recently, was the Sony Ericsson mobile fones… where they replace the word LUV with their marble logo. Something like I walking in the rain… I music, I missing the last bus, etc. Very creative… Very impressive.

The first thing that crosses our minds when we think about Ads is the LOGO. By the way… do u know wat LOGO means --- its Logic Oriented & Graphics Oriented (read this is a CSC book of a 10yr old kid).

The creation of logos, I trust dates back to the stone age when people started to mark their territory or clan with symbols of their own, say images of animals, nature, etc. In this cosmo era, the logos that various corporate exhibit are mainly to tap the potential customers in their respective domain. The term ‘Corporate’ should not just remind u of Nike, Adidas, Sony, Benz or Chevrolet. Do u remember the Re.1 pickle packets or 1.ps toffee that we get in our granny’s village… did u notice the logo there? Thanks for remembering them… yes… they too hold a pretty logo speaking for itself.

Creating Logos is the base of the Ad world, coz most of the times they bring out the life of the product. An apt example is of ADIDAS that has to be read as All Day I Dream About Sports [my friend once said S stands for ‘Shree’. Of course I was on Cloud 9, no doubt on that ;)]. But then again, I wud like to ponder more about the creative gray cells that work together or even against each other to come up with catchy, competitive Ad films, hoardings, pamphlets, digital scrolls, etcetera.

Any public relations team cud of course tell these Ad Experts wat they wud like to niche with the new advertisement. Getting into the minds of the requestor, analyzing the market of the product, their expectations and other core things is the most debilitating of all influences in the creation of good advertising (I can’t think more… coz I’m not even close to an amerture in this context). What actually runs into their minds when confronted with an assignment is wat I wud like to ask them if I confront them some day in the near future. Shamelessly copying from the net, I would second the thought "Ads are the cave art of the twentieth century". Won’t you?

Every dark cloud has a silver lining… & so far we’ve been generous enough to see the silver side of this dreamy, floating mass. I won’t do justice to my wicked soul if I dnt write about the darker side as well. Do the advertisements really mean wat they say? Are they true to their word about wat they hoard about? I also believe in wat Will Rogers (psst... I dnt know him either) said - "If advertisers spent the same amount of money on improving their products as they do on advertising then they wouldn't have to advertise them". Wat except money do they gain by luring people with film stars, catchy captions, tempting visuals and lying thru their teeth. I can feel the heat of stare as I hear u say, ‘as if she works in an IT firm for social service’. Hehehehe cunning amn’t I?

Say wat ever, Ad Film making is an unfulfilled dream career of mine & I wud cherish & admire forever & ever.

"Creativity is an advertising agency's most valuable asset, because it is the rarest."

Jef I. Richards

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. ~Rabindrath Tagore


This blog is dedicated to people who think beauty is not just skin deep & something more personal & intimate. Beauty is not in seeing a little of a person, but admiring them as a whole flower. A guy made me feel so recently, and few others in the past too (many of whom I felt never really existed – that’s my ego speakin). I was juz wondering wat runs in the minds of those people who FEEL beauty in a person, rather then see it, like the rest of the world.

As usual, I read in the net, a quote by Helen Keller, which goes as ‘The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched ... but are felt in the heart.’ The truth ... as is.

Born & brought up in India, hogging at the filmi queens & heroes in the 1000 & odd films that get released per year… beauty to me meant glossy hair, smooth, freckle free skin, pearly teeth, beauty contestant figure, hi-fi clothes, luxury cars… mmm ok… I’ll not list out wat all of us know already. While in school, when teachers spoke of inner beauty in our Moral Science classes, I strongly believed that it was to make the not so pretty kids feel a little better about themselves. Those ideals brought no sense to me… until a few months back.

In my recent past, my fate took me face to face with the wickedness of wat lost beauty cud cause or wat truth it can reveal. This is not about someone I know of, but then it has affected me in a way, which I intend to take to my grave or spread across the world thru my ashes. It was in a hospital where I witnessed this scene. A guy suffering from third degree burns was so lovingly attended by (just) his girlfriend. His parents?? That’s whom I was searchin for too. I was told that they were too embarrassed to even claim this burnt mass as their son. But, the dedication with which the gal (not yet his wife) cared for him as if he was still the handsome guy she fell in luv with, brought tears to my eyes. I was moved by the incident… but still it dnt remove the etch in my brain that said ‘Beauty is wat is visible to the naked eyes.’

Now comes the part when I my heart carved the words "No object is so beautiful that, under certain conditions, it will not look ugly” (Oscar Wilde quotes (Irish Poet, Novelist, Dramatist and Critic, 1854-1900)). I’m an amateur fotographer and was goin thru my album filled mostly with people I know & some strangers who’ve looked into the lens when my camera focused them. Each of them… different skin tones, different smiles, different kinda beauty, a tear filled eye, a appreciative hug, a deceptive look, a disappointed shoulder, etc. Lookin at it again, I realized that most people I deeply loved ‘ve are not the smooth skinned beauties I mentioned earlier. The wrinkles on my granny’s face reflected the pains she had gone thru to rear us, the look on my friends’ face… portrayed her concern for me & her disappointment in my mistake, etc & me. Aren’t those what beauty is all about?

In the recent days, I’m closer to the person who has made be believe in myself…. Like he always says… Weed is a plant whose virtues are not yet been discovered (he got this from the net too). He keeps telling that looks acquaint many people but those who remain with us see more than looks in us. I was impressed & my emotions come out thru my only vent … my blog. He made me feel beautiful -- juz like the quote 'You don't love a woman because she is beautiful; she is beautiful because you love her'.

Did u guys think of this at any point of time? Even for a minute? I’ve .. a lot before… but without understanding wat beauty actually is. My perspective has changed & I trust, so has my life.


That which is striking and beautiful is not always good, but that which is good is always beautiful.