My Lifelong Love....

I hereby declare my lifelong love for SHOES!

Heels, flats, pumps, peep-toes, wedges, ballets, sneakers, loafers, basketball shoes, sandals, slippers, stilettos, platforms, gladiators and Mary-Janes. I've had them all and currently have many of them. I just adore each one them and will adore the one I am yet to buy.

To put thing into perspective for me I'll borrow Mahi's statement. Just for reference Mahi was a character in a sitcom on TV. She once explained and I quote, " I love my shoes because of irrespective of how fat I become, my shoes will always fit me like a dream.". And to think all this while I thought I was the only one who thought like this!

Many people have asked me how many pair of shoes I own and each time I wonder if I really have that many. It never felt like too many to me, ever. I just clicked my 5most worn pairs at XL for perspective and there are exactly 5more sitting in the shoes rack waiting for their occasion. And these are only the ones I brought with me to the hostel. Ones at home would add some 5-6more at most. There i have some 15pairs of shoes. That's not much, is it? It barely covers enough for every type of occasion.

Looking back I think my love for collecting shoes began with having such a unique shoe size. I wear a size 42. That's big even by international standards, forget Indian. So understandably I have always had a trouble buying shoes that fit me, in designs that I like and prices I can afford. Till date everytime I go shopping I keep an eye out for a good deal in a sturdy or pretty(as my frame of mind maybe) pair of shoes. And considering my size and all, it isn't every trip that I find something I want or need.


But I still look out for them and I always have a few on my wishlist!

2011, A memoir

Another year is coming to a close. Today on Google I came across this video on the year that was and is for another 16days.



Thinking about what it did to me, I can safely say it was a year of experiences and it made a whole new dimension of me.

I finally found my feet in the b-school and made peace with my new life, interned at one of the most iconic brands of the world-Coca Cola, met a nice bunch of people there and was reassured that this was indeed what I wish to do in my life for real, traveled business class and then by unreserved in the same day to just meet my family for a day, discovered pleasure, got my first lipstick, my first Roberto Cavalli shades, adopted pets and then lost them to nature, experienced real fear while waiting outside an operation theatre and realised what it is to be strong for another.

This year has been like none other for me. Simply amazing.

My favourite moments:

Mumbai Trip, June 2011; @bandra bandstand

My 23rd, Feb 16; @jsr

My 23rd, Feb 16; @jsr

My 23rd, Feb 16; @jsr

@chandil dam

feb; @bhopal

ladies; feb; @bhopal

Layla and Raphael...my angel fish. RIP

Akshita, twisha, I, shweta, shriya; day of batch photo

Areshdeep, I, aditya, twisha

Teej@XL

scary me @maxi junior's treat; august 11

OOH advertising for MAXI Mindscapes:dimensions of sports marketing

Return to Dasam falls, diwali day, 26 oct 11

mela@jsr, oct 16, 2011

bike trip to ghatshila

Tinkerbell&I

Glutton Discovery

For a random errand, SN and I went to the market pretty late today. I had a class till 5:30 so it wasn't until 6:15 that we finally left for Sakchi. Give or take 30-40minutes that we took to find the required shop and buy the things needed, we were leaving the market from the exit closer to Tata Steel when a strong smell caught our attention. Now we being foodies immediately recognised this aroma as that of fresh roasted chicken and after nothing in sight, we gave up on what promised to be a delectable suprise.

But suprise it turned out to be! Right behind the auto stand was a thela surrounded by people and no prizes for guessing where the aroma was coming from. Couldn't stop ourselves from exploring and we actually found a decent crowd, well behaved and the shop owner treated us like premium princesses(which effectively we probably were). I still don't know if it was cheap or expensive, but sounded attractive to me and his turnover speed suggested that the food was definitely fresh and add to that, the barbeque was right there for all to see!

He picked out fresh pieces of marinated breast pieces in front of us and started to slowly let it char on the smoldering charcoals. Definitely not just another roasted chicken.

Being a Delhi dame, roasted chicken is same as tandoori chicken to me. Not anymore. This was real barbequed chicken and because of certain unavoidable circumstances, it was consumed almost 4hours after purchase and I must say this...it was still soft, juicy and delectible!

I'm so going to recommend it to anyone who had no qualms of admitting that street food can indeed be delicious and hygienic(as much as possible)!

Finally Jamshedpur is playing its magic on me!

ps: check location of this post for exact place!

Oh India!

I for one fell in love when I was very young. Given the environment at home with a very religious nani, an unquestioning devotee as mommy, a rational believer as a father and encyclopedias as companions, I fell in love with the whole world of powerful characters that some dismiss as mythology and some revere as religion. My love was fed from all quarters and all regions of the world. My mother gave me stories of my land, my books gave me stories of Greece and Rome and my dad gave me the platform to rationalise, debate and admire. Till date I love to hear new perspectives on the same characters, new insights on what possibly drove them and discovering subtle implications of all this in our lives. More so in the life of a modern open source believer-a practicing Hindu.

The Navaratras have just gone by. Durga Puja pandals are still being dismantled across the city here in Jamshedpur. Festivities have only just begun, as Diwali is less than 20days away. I couldn't go witness the grandeur of a pandal this year and I shall regret that. But to compensate it all, I went to the next best thing-a Ravan Dahan Mahotsav.

Ironic how the most pious days of any religion come in the historical period of blood shed and death. It may be the 'evil' blood being spilled, but it is blood nonetheless. Muslims have the Ramadan, Hindus have the Navaratras! Both had their God/Goddess fight evil and conquer it. Both have their holy days. But I'm digressing.

Coming back to what I was hoping to write on was that the Ravan dahan mahotsav got me thinking. It was only my second time at the event and the last time I went there it was with my parents and I was hardly 8 or 9 years old. This time I was with my classmates and the whole environment though festive did not seep in. But it was fun and it was a much needed outing. And it got me intersted in what my father had told me about the whole Ravan burning exercise. As it happens, in some part of the country, there are tribes who do not believe in celebrating this victory of good over evil and do not burn Ravan's effigies. Why? Well, because Mandodri belonged to their tribe! Interesting implications to life, no?

Today a newspaper on the newstand outside the mess caught my eye simoly because it spoke of something similar. There happens to be a tribe in the Chota Nagpur plateau region that does not believe in festivities of the Navratras but instead treats it as a period of mourning! They consider themselves decendants of Mahishasur who was the chief demon to be slayed by Devi in this nine day period and they think the mythology is unfairly skewed against them. Here's the news item: http://business-standard.com/india/news/the-demons-brood/451796/

Bollywood connection

It's was another boring day here on campus when a friend's status message popped up on Gtalk with a youtube link and a time. Scrolling down to that exact second I saw something that made me laugh and, in a weird way, proud.
What was it, you ask? The screen shot below is what got me rolling in mirth. You see, the books on the screen are our course specific readings, bound together and given to us each term by the profs. Everyone who's been at xlri at some point, has I'm sure seen these handouts. And when they make it to a random shot in a more random Akshay Kumar movie, it just goes to show there's an Xler somewhere behind that camera. And that makes me happy :)
Oh and another funny coincidence-Prof Sharad Sarin is teaching me this term! So you see, I have a super famous prof :D

XLRI course handouts feature in a bollywood movie!

Oh smart journalists!

Stumbleupon got me to this amazing photograph. Some journalists will spare no one :D I like it!

Paint me red

I'd always seen women wearing red on their nails and toes and lips etc and I used to keep wondering how they pulled it off. I was convinced I couldn't ever do it. Till a friend got me inspired and I bought myself a fire engine red nailpaint and painted my toes and fingernails a BIG BOLD RED!
Teamed with an LV tote in a similar colour, I felt invincible! If only I had bought those red peep toes my ma wanted me to buy, I'd have been walking on sunshine!
Maybe it's the imagination or maybe it's the culture...but red definitely adds a power. And it gets instant attention. My season's favourite colour just got picked.

Street finds-billboards

On my last trip to Mumbai I found a very interesting billboard..one that appealed to me as a consumer and as a wannabe marketer. Sharing it here :)

This is my town

Montgomery Gentry sang a very true blue song about his town. The place he knew he grew up in and the place he chose to settle. I can say I will never sing it for any of the places I have lived in because I have never belonged there. Big city girl trouble, eh?
One place that I will remember for bitter sweet reasons and that will define my career too is Jamshedpur. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd have the best time of my life thus far there. Or meet the best people or truly understand and appreciate what life is.
This is not to harp about me and my affair with the town, but the about the pretty side of it. The side I fall back on when I am alone. The side you see from the roof of my hostel on an August evening. The hills are part of the Dalma Range.

So, why'd I do it?

My recent classroom sessions on consumer behaviour have been, mildly put, disturbing to me. Why is that? Because for a tweenager who decided she wanted a tattoo, she's no more a normal tweenager.

It's depressing how a tattoo is still synonymous with trying too hard, being a wannabe and with someone who seeks acceptance. Not that I didn't fight these when I first thought of getting a tattoo, convincing my family and all, but somehow now it seems quite heavy a burden to carry.

So why did I do this to myself?

Was I looking for social acceptance of some sort? Absolutely not! I knew then what I am experiencing now...being a social piranha because I have a tattoo.

Was I looking for attention? Again, no. I don't go around flaunting my tattoo and hardly mention it to anyone. I anyway wear jeans and salwars most of the day, so no, no attention.

Was I looking for a special status? A wannabe? That's hard for me to answer. I would be defensive if I said any of that. That's how people judge me and something I cannot control.

Was I being rebellious? Maybe. Some part of me was fascinated, some part of me wanted to try for the novelty. And one part of me wanted it just like I want a nice dress for an occassion-vanity!

So all in all I know I haven't changed. The matrix I build for me, wherein I have my self concept, my ideal self concept, my public self and ideal public self truthfully did not change one bit from the moment I sat down at the tattoo parlour to when I got up with a tattoo on me. But somehow the eyes that followed me did.

What hurt me most is that I had remained immune to all of criticism this long but maybe I am not strong enough to face it alone afterall. I miss being home.

Married Men...lol

Yes its lust

I've often seen men "admire" random women-somehow I'm all in my Rafa mode. Some of my 'favourite' RAFA moments:

Water Burial

Three days before her 1st month completion as my pet, Layla breathed her last. Yesterday at 8:3opm, Layla was found dead in the glass bowl that she shared with Rafa.

It took me less than a minute and two knocks on her side of the glass bowl to realise I had lost my very sweet angel fish. My first reaction was to call my friend who'd helped me set up my aquarium and then inform my ex-roomie and now neighbour. Only when she too declared that Layla was dead did the first tears roll down. I had failed as a pet owner. I did not care enough maybe. I didn't see her fall sick. How long had she been dead before I stooped down to play with them? How did she die? Should I keep Raphael now that I had failed with Layla?

Then there was a practical side of me. How do I get Layla out without disturbing Rafa? How will I say my goodbye to Layla? I scampered to get a net n all but even after failed attempts to get it back, my friends sympathies, a forced dinner, informing ma and a few friends, I still wasnt strong enough to scoop out Layla myself. I made my friend do it. I just could stand it...I was tryin too hard not to break down and cry. Everyone was of the opinion that Layla needed a burial but I resisted. One reason was I didn't know where I could bury my fish without ever passing that place again and not missing her. And two, I didn't want her out of the water for some reason. Hence I insisted on a water burial.

Most thought it was cruel to flush down my fishie, but I considered it the best for her. She's anyway in fish heaven and she deserves to leave this avatar of hers in the same medium that was her world-in water.

Layla, I'll miss you. RIP.

Me myself and my door

After much deliberation on how to proclaim my room as my room...i have done this.
Do u like it?

How to: Not kill anyone when cleaning a fish bowl

Sunday morning mission: Clean my newly acquired fish bowl

Reason to do so: It's part of the ownership program :-|

My previous lessons: Theoritical. From the fish store owner to friends who've been previous fish owners, everyone gave a step wise ritual on how to do it

My self aquired lessons: Youtube. I just had to see someone else clean a fish bowl. So after watching some not so informative but very supportive videos, I decided to go ahead with it

Things I used: Scotch-brite(to clean), soft hand wash(to clean), two mugs(to transfer n keep Layla and Raphael), Medicine(for the water)

Things I did and thankfully no one saw:
I have finally understood what someone who came up with the expression "wide eyed look" meant. I got one from my fish!

I knew I would never be able to transfer my fish using a net from the bowl to a temporary bowl without feeling sick and scared. So I decided to use a mug to scoop them out and keep em. Only my fish turned out to be great actors and refused to be caught! A very scared me played hide and seek with them while they kept scooting around the bowl and I kept praying that I dont kill them. Finally a very frustrated Shivani took a deep breath, sent a prayer to the Heaven up above and dug in to catch Layla and Rafa. This is when I got my "looks". At the mouth of the mug, Rafa(the naughtier one), turned horizontal like it had died and looked at me like I was the person who did it to him. My heart broke. But I had to do this. For them and me.

The rest of the cleaning was uneventful and boring. It was more mechanical and hence easier. I will probably get faster at doing it the more I do it. All that while Layla and Rafa were quite sedate in their mugs and tryin to fool me by stopping to swim(Rafa) or coming to the edge of the mug like it's about to jump out(Layla). Finally the ordeal ended. I dumped Rafa in the antibiotic first, Layla second. Finally when I had filled the bowl with fresh water, I put more antibiotic in it and only then transfered Rafa and Layla to it. I must admit my method keeps a bit of the old dirty water in the bowl...but if that's the price for not having to hold them in a fish net out of water and possibly kill them, I'll pay.

This sunday I experienced what it is like to hold life in your hands. I also realised I was smart enough to admit 6years ago that I didn't have it in me to be a doctor. Some revelations I got today.

Raphael and Layla

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A personal achievement for me-I have taken a HUGE step of adopting pets! I have always toyed with the idea of adopting pets for myself and always wanted a dog or a bear or something, I saw an opportunity in getting myself an aquarium here in the hostel and I have taken a slightly impulsive, yet deeply considered decision.
Yesterday i became the owner of a glass bowl with two Angel fish, who I have named Raphael and Layla. The names came after much deliberation-I wanted names of Angel but I also wanted exotic names. After shortlisting names and consultation with people who's opinion matters in this regards I chose Raphael and Layla. Look at it this way, I can never name anyone's kids so exotic and anyway I get to dedicate my fish to my favourite sportsman!
I have to admit I am scared! I am not a very responsible person when it comes to me and now I have fish depending on me to clean, feed and keep them alive. Admittedly my friends are as skeptical. There are already bets in place as to how long i can pull this off :-|

I hope I can be a good pet keeper for Rafa and Layla!

And it's over!

After 9 full weeks of having fun, learning practical real-life stuff, staying up late, getting up early, being decently productive, wearing only drab formalish clothes, meeting geniuses of their fields and technically being on an internship, I have completed the moment of life called-Internship.

Saying it was an experience will be undermining the impact it has had on me and what all I have accomplished in it. Calling it just another internship will undermine the effort of the people around me who put together so much, just so people like me could come and ravish it! I will thus call it the "Summer of '11". Cheesy. hmmm.

I miss it and that's the shocking part. I utterly miss being in that place with those people. Funny I am. Or maybe sad

Why NOT to work from home

Top of the mind recall on a pretty friday morning-Top 5reasons I should not work from home!

Reason No1: The papers being referred to and being worked on are found crumpled the morning after(because I slept on them!).

Reason No2: The laptop will not connect to the internet and then I find innovative ways to mail things using Bluetooth and GPRS! (crazy techie people)

Reason No3: The idea factory is slow and drowsy

Reason No4: The above mentioned papers get left behind at home because everything else that is BIG and BLACK (read laptop and diary) get picked up and stuffed in the bag hurrily while the poor souls of scribbled notes get left behind.

Reason No5: The mind gets accustomed to working in such a lazy, comfy fashion with pillows all around and a sprawled out me! Office chairs seem too upright post that!

The last point is aptly described below thanks to Homer :)

A pretty place called office

For most people an office is a nightmare. I somehow have enjoyed my first brush with it.
The graffiti on my white board. The scribbles in my omnipresent black diary. The deep thought before my first two line email. The whole first name business.
The latter is such a pain! For someone who was taught from day one to go all protocol respecting and age respecting, this whole thing is like a system shock! Ah ma, why'd you ingrain it so deep?

Frameworks

I think I've cracked the nut on why I am so frustratingly slow and stupid sometimes, especially when it comes to anything to do with my MBA. I think instinctively while the MBA gives you frameworks to think by. I work on gut feelings while MBA demands data and trends. I understand the concept and twist it to suit my abilities while MBA wants the stiff white collar to be a stiff white collar. Ah damn!

The trigger to most of my self discoveries has been my internship. The one person who loves to deal with the intangible and the almost creatives, sits with a computer and finds mathematical trends in the obscure realm of image parameters! And then when I have a math-numbed brain, I have some amazing sessions with my boss who makes me think. And you know the best part? I forget my 4Ps(again) when asked for a launch strategy and instead stare like an idiot when he finally tells me in which direction I was supposed to tread.

How will I make a success of this mba thing of I can't get myself to always be in that framework!?

Oh right, it is another framework!

Delhi Daredevils and I

Date: May 3, 2011

Time: 1pm

Venue: The Taj Mahal Hotel, New Delhi

Occasion: Coca Cola Meet and Greet with Delhi Daredevils

Who all: I recognise Irfan Pathan(to my left) and Colin Ingram(3rd on my right); rest I am a little clueless about. I'd appreciate if you could tell me

What was I doing there: I went to meet them and have lunch. Ended up working somewhat.

Stories, tales and an exam

I had a realisation of my own right now...I so want to write a story/novel/book but besides creating a character set and amazingly sweet or conflict ridden situations and a awesome couple for it, I can never decide what to do with them! I dnt fregging have a story for them...i want an ending to the love stories I start in my head. Maybe why they dnt end or even come close to any form of closure is because I dnt know how love stories are completed! Inexperience you see...darn I wanna know what happens to my characters after they've met and broken the ice and are not fighting/drinking/eating/

studying!! Yes, my characters study :P
So in short when I'm studying(yes) and studying stuff that doesnt engross me for whatever reason, I go hunting to find out what happened to my characters and where have they reached in their lives. I dnt see them often..just every exam time and everytime I think I found a face for my characters. So my faceless characters continue with their lives with and without me. Like I do mine.

Ooh la la!

This is an absolutely random blog post. When I was logging, i didn't know what I wanted to write on, just that i did. Then my dashboard showed me that I had managed a whooping 100 posts! Wow! I can jab! ;)

So technically this is my 101st random musing on my life and I truthfully doubt if anyone cares! Ah well...
So I just gave another exam of another term where a good number people, as always, were practically implementing team work and yours truly kept wondering how come no one noticed all this? Or maybe they did and they were just avoiding conflict. Or maybe once you become an invigilator you can't tell the difference between what's genuine and what's not. As you can tell, probably, I am thoroughly pissed at all this.
I am pissed at people's insensitivity, lack of ethics, morality, humility and general humanity!!
Oh and yes, I found myself a new symbol for myself(I think this sentence is structured wrong)...it's a driftwood. I somehow feel like one :-|

A goodbye

I just have to write this down. A single hug has triggered this post that too half an hour before an end term examination! Of all the seniors that I got to know in the past one year here, I recently said goodbye to a good lot of them. All these farewells were happy. Of all the seniors that I got to know in the past one year here, only one came to look for me to say goodbye and give me a hug. I suddenly realised she'll be the only one I'll always remember no matter what. She lived on the same floor as I and we often watched TV together...bonded over random idiot box content but now that I look back, we genuinely bonded. She was so easy to talk to and just an integral part of the 1st floor...I will miss her!
I am so sappy sometimes. Darn.

Of Mirrors

Sometimes a change of mirror is all one needs to alter one's life. Like I have always believed, life has its own sweet way to teach us subtle lessons. Its upto us to take it as a learning or as just another event.
For me this post is triggered by an event. I was in the mess and I looked up into the mirror over the basin. I saw me. But I also saw a few scars from old pimples, a stray hair out of place and a few new pimples readying to take their place on my face. How come I didn't see these when I was brushing just this morning? Because the mirror changed! Or maybe just the lighting was different, but what I saw had altered.
So I learnt two things...one I needed a good facewash (:P) and two, I had to look at life from different frames. Think about it. Even physics accepts that reality changes with changing of frame of reference! How obvious it always was.
Let's look at life from differing points of view...one side is a personal me, who's just plain confused about life and the other is the professional me, who is supposed to be doing just fine. Hmm.
So what are your frames in life? How would you judge it?

just another monologue...

It's been sometime now that I have had some, or ok a lot of things to talk on. Much has happened since the day my iPod and I sat together on a bench and wondered why life was so weird.
I spent two days being a pseudo intellectual thinking what would've happened to Gautam Buddha's wife after he left her in pursuit of higher goals of life. It triggered much debate within me and with my friends but I obviously have no answer.
One other interesting happening was a rather short discussion I had. It has been my observation for quite a while now that men my age tend to be more loud, immature and quite boyish while the ones who are older are more mature, stylish and smooth. It could, I now agree, be just a personal bias but it was mine. When i did express it to this particular person I got a rather interesting answer. All it said was, " You've seen a wrong sample. Maturity, style and attitude are extensions of the personality and upbringing, not just age." I was floored!
So while I enjoy this super sexy weather of purple skies, cool winds and a calming drizzle from the solitary perch of the lone balcony of this hostel, I am content. I have made peace with life today and I hope I can sustain it for a while. I do sometime miss the opportunity of sharing such simple moments of pleasure with someone but maybe another time. I hope.

Govt's gift on women's day

One female independent director in firms must: MCA | mydigitalfc.com

So here's what the government does...give us another reservation. Am i estatic? I am not so sure. But a pat on their back for trying. The glass ceiling just got that much more brittle!
Happy Women's Day lovely people!

Douglas Adam's little quirky tale

So as I went about stumbling over the internet I found a small tale written by Douglas Adams that I reproduce here without anyone's permission. If I am violating any laws, please let me know and I'd be happy to comply!
So here goes:

Cookies by Douglas Adams (author: "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy")

This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.

(Excerpted from "The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time" by Douglas Adams)

Alone

I'm sittin alone on a bench outside my hostel and it is on moments like these that I feel life, with all it's sorrows and happiness, can't get lonelier or more peaceful. There is no one to talk and no one for company. All I have right now are a bunch of pesky mosquitoes and an iPod.
I wanna just talk. Talk somemore. I haven't has a decent conversation in so long that I can't remember the last time I did. It's almost like except for my mother no one wants to really know what's up in my life! Ironically almost everyone on this campus asks me that when they see me. Life.

Shivani Saksena
sent from my iPod

excellent work-just sharing it

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Battle of the emotions

Emotions are powerful, that we all have heard. But to experience it the sheer strength of the emotion and realise its power is quite another. At least for me it has been.
The past few weeks I experienced jealousy and hatred and like each time that I experience the mix of these two, I stand in awe of it. One side of my brain shows me the rationality of all the literature that sugested that negativity has in it the power to overcome the strongest of person-Osho, Sri Aurobindo and the like. The other side pulls me to further explore the realms of this dark side and feel a new wave of power and its accompanying attitude.
The triggers of the situation will never see light on this portal(they stay locked in safer media) but the experience obviously has me using my head to word it out.
Women, history suggests, are women's worsr enemies. As I grow out of my utopian ideals and experience for myself situations where earlier I would scorn others for having reacted in a way, I am reacting thus. Pitiful. But life.

Any one worth her salt in marketing...see this!

Logorama from Marc Altshuler - Human Music on Vimeo.

Rusty ol' me

So yours truly has decided that life needs a facelift. I need loads of other things but one has to start somewhere. So I have restarted two previously integral parts of my life: physical fitness and public speaking.
The former is currently being pursued by using the well stocked gym that XL offers. I haven't had much time to devote to it or my self lately. Then a few events triggered a major need for revamp. Step in my resolve to go to the gym. On day1, I use the treadmill, I use the stepper, I do some floor exercises and rusty, flabby me gets all sweaty and exhausted! Sheer mortification overtakes me as I realise that I have indeed lost my agility and flexibility.
There is another side to this tale. The public speaking bit. I participated in a debate after 5long years. Oh boy am i rusty! But like they say, it never goes out of your system. Standing there with a small chit of my points, I felt like I was back home. I could feel I was rusty, I could feel I needed a brushing session but I was happy. I rediscovered my first love. One I had let slip in engineering.
Now I wish I can continue with both-both were sorely missed and desperately required.
Ah life!

My celestial constant

Living in the hostel is an experience everyone should have. It's like a kiln one needed to finally go through before one's true strengths come forth. I can gas around on hostels for quite a bit-I hate most of it!

The inspiration behind this particular post is my realisation that I have little in common with my earlier life(read: pre-jamshedpur). It almost seems like a previous birth sometimes. Nothing is the same, not even me. or wait. I think it should be-most of all, me.
So the other night I was walking back from the mess and I looked up at the sky. I don't remember why I looked up, was it the moon, was it exasperation, was it a kink in my neck, was it a desire to knock at heaven's door, I don't remember. but I looked and I saw. In that moment of isolation, I saw my oldest companion-the only constellation I can always track and one I always look for-the Orion.
It must've been class 3 or 4when I first learnt of the Orion. since then, whenever I could I've always looked up to find it and it's a relief that it's still there! But that day it spoke back to me.
for most people there isn't much that objects communicate. I somehow perceive it differently. there are bonds one can share with every thing-it doesn't have to be a breathing, talking flesh and blood. and once you believe, you'd know what I am talking about.
I miss myself terribly on some days. on some days I am complacent about this change. my glimpse at the Orion that day just made dealing with complacency easier. It was almost as if it said to me that it'll always be there-a constant in this changing life. A constant companion that would travel with me where ever i went and one who'd never ever change. most of all when i did.
can't say that about anything else now, can I?