Pyaasa

You come to a foreign land and you begin searching for your own roots. Not that I had ever lost touch with them, but I do tend to look for and cling to anything that reminds me of my Indianness even more these days. I guess I'm a little homesick. But it's not just that. There's just so much great art in our history (lesser in the present) to admire. So here are some classic movies and inspiring songs that remind me of the many works of art back home.

One of my favorite Hindi films is the timeless Gurudutt masterpiece 'Pyaasa'. I haven't watched a lot of old hindi films but every time I watch this (and I've watched it several times) I wonder what happened to Indian cinema since then. Why did it all go to hell? The 1950s are considered the golden age of Indian cinema, when the newly independent Indian nation was discovering itself with masters like Satyajit Ray and Gurudutt achieving international critical acclaim. A far cry from the mindless populist drivel spewed by so regularly today by uncreative directors using incompetent actors.

Pyaasa is a tragic story about a heart-broken poet who struggles unsuccessfully to get his work published. Because he doesn't do anything 'useful', he is shunned by his brothers, his love and society in general. He does find an admirer, and love and finally popular acclaim, through a series of fortuitous events, but wonders whether it is all worth it.

The movie is not without flaws. Apart from the fact the technological deficiencies, like extremely low resolution black and white images, some abrupt editing and the likes, it also has some of the most horrendous acting possible. Many of the sideroles are populated by loud, obnoxious, overacting characters. But despite the flaws, the film has a deeper soul than most films; a pulsating throbbing nerve of raw emotion making it impossible not to reflect and ultimately love this movie.

Gurudutt is brilliant as the troubled heartbroken poet, always observing and reflecting on himself and his environment. You can't help but feel for his underdog character. Waheeda Rehman is excellent (and stunning) in her role.

But the highlight of the movie is definitely its songs. They add so much to the movie, nudging the story gently along, revealing the inner workings of the poet's troubled mind. Each song is a gem, though some are more precious than others. I've added three of them below. Do listen and of course, watch the movie!

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

NaBloPoMo - December

This blog hasn't seen much action lately. I need to challenge myself. Though I've had plenty of free time in the recent past, and have a few half written posts pending, I haven't really written in a while.

So, I'm joining NaBloPoMo, which stands for National Blog Posting Month. You've to sign up on a site and try to post something everyday for a month. Sounds like a tough ask, and at many points of time I'm sure I'll have to lower the standards a bit and post something trivial. But that's the challenge, to be able to post enough readable quality stuff while sticking with the quantity.

Lots of stuff going to happen in December. It'll get all Christmasy here and hopefully snow a bit too. That should be a lot of fun. Unfortunately I won't be here for Christmas which would've been a fantastic experience. I think I'm gonna get a bit nostalgic as I leave Sweden. The European adventure has been tremendous and I'm sure I'm going to look back fondly at this phase of life forever. I am also looking forward to returning back though. I miss Indian food (not the mess food though), the weather (I want to be able to feel my fingers again when I step out) and of course, my friends.

First up this month is a trip to Stockholm. I leave in an hour. I've been there quite a few times before, but it was always in transit or for some other work. This time it's for sightseeing and from what little I have seen of Stockholm, it is fantastic. Lookout for the pics here.

We must not forget..

A year has passed since the terrible Mumbai terror attacks.

Has anything really changed?

Are we better equipped to prevent or at least minimize the damage some random inexplicable unjustifiable acts of violence cause to thousands of innocent lives?

Are our politicians firmer in their resolve to provide greater security to the common man and offer speedy rehabilitation to those affected?

Are our security forces better trained to deal with such attacks in the future?

Will our media show more restraint, sensitivity and plain common sense while covering such events?

Or has apathy and indifference, our two greatest weapons to combat the innumerable injustices that are perpetrated in our society on a daily basis, have become so powerful that we fail to even let the memory of the attacks affect us?

We asked the same questions after the July 2006 train bombings and we asked them again last year. Do we want to ask them again?

Resilience must never become indifference.

An Award!

Oops, I forgot! This was given to me by Shas here at 'Scribblings on the Wall' a while ago. She's a really humorous blogger with a mixture of disarmingly cute and reflective posts. Do check her out (in a nice way!) :P

I won't be passing this award on to others simply because there are too many great bloggers out there and I can't possible name them all.

Anyway, thanks Shas! :)

Doodles

I've always admired artists who can draw anything perfectly in the first attempt. I've never been really good at that.

I got the urge to pick up a marker and just sketch and I'm pleasantly surprised at how decently these have come out! Especially since you don't have a chance to erase or rework any line you've put down. Very cartoony, each took about 5 min and they're a lot of fun to do!

And I'm not endorsing KPMG and neither are they sponsoring me. I just happen to not have any A4 sheets. :(

This one's my favorite. I think a little watercolor would make it look pretty neat. Too bad I don't have any. Maybe I can do a series of such sketches on monuments in Europe. This one's Arc de Triomph in Paris, by the way.


Which one's your favorite?

Postcards from Europe 5: Europe in Pictures

You know how sometimes you want something so badly and for so long that you build it up so much in your head that when you actually get it, you are a trifle disappointed? You blame yourself for having imagined things to be so grand that they could not possibly exist. You think that though the reality is nice, it was even better in your mind.

Nothing like that happened on this trip!! :D

Here are my favorite pics from a long, exhausting but immensely enjoyable and memorable 10-day trip starting from Helsinki, then Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Salzburg and finally Interlaken in Switzerland.

Most of them are in B&W and I'm inspired by the quote:

“When you photograph people in colour you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in B&W, you photograph their souls” ~Ted Grant.

I think the latter part of the quote is valid even when trying to capture the grandeur and magnificence of cities, buildings and monuments. Click on each to open the larger image. (If any of you know a better way to present pics on blogger, do let me know. I want the pop-up kinda slideshow that is on most professional sites these days)


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Helsinki: On the fortress island Soumenlinna off the coast of Helsinki. It was fall and while most of the trees had bright yellow leaves, these two had already shed theirs.

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Berlin: The German Parliament (Bundestag). Open for public even during parliamentary sessions, it is an example of transparent and accessible governance.



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Prague: One of the most beautiful cities I've been to. I didn't think it was possible, but it made me wonder if Paris was the most beautiful city in Europe. Prague certainly comes very close.



The Old Town square, the heart of every European city. Prague has Staromestske Namesti, dating back to late 12th century, with a clock tower and a sculpture in the center and surrounded by old buildings of Gothic, Baroque and Romanesque styles.


Prague has the largest medieval castle in Europe. Within its grounds stands St. Vitus Cathedral, an astounding structure that unbelievably, took six centuries to construct!



Overlooking Prague from the castle.



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Vienna: The Viennese Palace, with its immense gardens, the Gloriette, a garden labrynth and even a zoo is beautiful.



Semmering: A scenic ski resort near Vienna.



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Salzburg: Mozart's birthplace, its a pictureque town set in the Austrian Alps. Featured in the movie 'Sound of Music', it has Europe's largest medieval fortress.







All images © Arslan Aziz

Hibiscus

Circumstances prevent me from giving her a real one. She probably won't realize that this is for her even if she saw this. I don't even know if she'll see this.

Details: Rapid sketch with a mechanical pencil, no eraser and using a reference sketch.

Postcards from Europe - 4: Munich, Paris & Madrid

At certain moments in life, you know you're living through a future memory. You know that decades hence, when you look back at your life, you'll remember the very moment you're living now. These moments can be sought and planned for, or may arrive completely unexpected. They maybe good or bad. My 10-day trip exploring Europe had several of such moments. Here's a small sample in chronological order:

The rides at Oktoberfest, Munich:

We were taken 55 meters up over Munich at night, and given a mighty twirl. I had never been more scared or had more fun in a ride ever.

Let's go a bit higher, and this time, let's just drop! Free fall from 66 meters folks. We were bounced about a bit like a yo-yo. The climb is scary cause it doesn't seem to end. The scariest part is when you're at the peak and waiting to drop. Quickly overtook the previous ride and became the most fun and scary ride I had ever been on.

A roller-coaster next. With five loops. I screamed the hardest in this one. The exhilarating speed and ferocious turns and the extremely tight loops made my neck hurt! And no prizes for guessing that this now stands as the most scary and fun ride I've ever been on!

The Louvre, Paris!

Is one of my most favorite places ever. I imagine I would be very happy living there. Of course I had heard a lot about it's large collection of paintings and sculptures (and not only due to 'The Da Vinci Code') but nothing could've prepared me for the actual experience.

I walked through halls and halls of mindbogglingly magnificent paintings, many the size of entire walls, in absolute awestruck amazement. I cannot count the number of paintings that caused me to stand there transfixed and mesmerized by the look on a character's face, the composition of the painting, the poignancy of the scene depicted, and the skill of the artist. If pictures can speak a thousand words, then Louvre is perhaps the biggest library in the world.

I can write all the superlatives I know and you still won't know how incredible the paintings actually are. So here's an example:

As with any work of art, knowing a bit about it increases your appreciation of it manifold. This particular painting is 'The Raft of Medusa' by Theodore Gericault, a French painter of the 19th century. It depicts the scene of survivors of an actual shipwreck. The first thing that strikes you is the incredible scale of the painting. The figures in the foreground are twice life size! Gericault locked himself up in his studio for days on end working on this painting in complete isolation. He even collected dead bodies from the morgue and studied how the dying and the dead look like. He took a year planning, researching and composing the painting and the actual painting took 8 months to finish. And all of it shows in the final work!

The rest of Paris also lives up to its name. It really is a beautiful city!


Arc de Triomph

A bridge on the River Sienne

Santiago Bernabeu, Madrid!

The home of Real Madrid. It was a joy walking around the stands, going through the trophy room, the dressing room, stand pitch-side and look around the stands and sit on the player's bench.



Before you get all jealous of me again, I will mention that not everything went right on the trip. In fact, for a few days everything that could go wrong did go wrong. The series of unfortunate events made India seem like a much safer place than Europe. They made the trip especially memorable, and definitely not in the way I would've liked. Still, you try to remember and cherish the good, and forget the bad.

Dream a dream

What is this life if you don't have a dream, a vision of yourself replayed in your mind over and over again, a possibility too grand to be revealed, too dear to be expressed? In that moment just before slumber slowly smokes out consciousness from your restless mind, what is it that you think of? What is it that brings a smile to your lips in the darkness, and a joy in your lonely heart?

Dreams may seem weak, fragile, transient. The realists deem them to be idle fantasies of foolishness. Little do they realize that the world they live in, the world they insist cannot be changed, the world they constantly try to adapt themselves to, is, and has always been, shaped by dreamers.

It was a dreamer who first thought of freedom, and it was a dreamer who thought of justice. A dreamer is to be thanked for fire, and for every single invention and discovery since.

Remember when you were a little kid and had a million wishes and thousands of grand ambitions? Nothing was too ridiculous, nothing was out of reach. So does growing up mean you have to cast them all aside? Settle for an ordinary job and lead an ordinary life?

They tell you you're doing great, that you're better off than most, that you've everything you need to be happy, that you should have no reason to complain. But why do you need to be convinced of these things? Why don't you feel it yourself? Why do you need to keep looking at your life the way they see it, count your blessings again and again and try to dispel that creeping unbidden sense of frustration?

It is because you desire to play it safe, to not make a fool of yourself, and to avoid defeat even if it means you'll never have a chance to win. Then one day you'll realize that it didn't matter if you won or lost, but that you were playing the game you loved.

So, dream a dream tonight and smile a secret smile. But more importantly, for all your future days, hold the dream in your mind, and hide the smile in your heart.

Postcards from Europe - 3: A Walk about Town

I went around the streets of Jonkoping with my camera, trying to capture the serene beauty of this town.

Here are a few:

It's always cloudy

European streets: Clean and Uncrowded

The Bridge across Lake Vattern

The University Library

A street by the University

University Buildings

Fountain in a park

University Gardens

Random grand building!

Music Theatre

Music Theatre

Across the Lake

European Streets

A Clock Tower

Beauty is everywhere here. You just need to open your eyes to find it. Everywhere you turn there is a picture waiting to be taken. I love this place!

Postcards from Europe - 2: First Day in Jönköping

So it’s been over a week in Jönköping (yawn-chopping) and I am starting to feel at home now. Let me start at the beginning though.

Friday, 28^th Aug,

0330 hrs

Our bus from Stockholm arrived at Jönköping at this unearthly hour. There were six of us, three from IIMK and three from IIMA. We had to wait till the accommodation office opened at 8:30 in the morning and we got the keys to our apartments. There was nothing we could do except wear our warmest jacket and lie on the benches under the open sky and wait for morning. Typically a scenario in which I would get philosophical, but I was just too cold and tired. Fortunately at 0530, the doors to the bus station opened and we trooped inside and tried to defrost our limbs. A few hours of sleeping on benches inside and being stared at by the locals, and it was time to go. We were quickly handed over our keys and even offered a ride to our apartment complex called Råslätt (ruse-lett).

My apartment complex in Råslätt

1200 hrs

First trip to the supermarket. We were told not to convert the prices in Swedish Kronor (pronounced as Crowne) into Rupees (1 Kronor = 7 Rs), but how could we not?

“Hey, look the half litre Pepsi is for 12 Kronors!”

The way to think of it is as if 1 Kronor = 1 Rs, and trying to forget the slight matter of the conversion factor. How else would you bring yourself to have the 60 Kronor sandwich or the 20 Kronor bus ticket? I’m getting there.

Evening

Met my flatmates. A Chinese doing his Bachelors and a Mexican doing his Masters in Economics. They showed me around the flat, the shelves in the kitchen I could use, generously offered me use of their utensils, how the laundry room in the basement works, and how I should clean and dry the kitchen and the bathroom after every use.

Disposing off trash looks like a ritual. You take your bag of trash downstairs to a little square hut with several holes on its sides, each hole for a different type of trash. So you open your bag and take out all the plastic and put in one hole, then move on and take out all the paper and put it in the second hole. You end up making a round trip of the hut and since others might also be making those revolutions, it all looks a bit funny.

2100 hrs

I’m feeling hungry, and the realization hits me that I will have to actually go in the kitchen and prepare something to eat and not wait for it to be served and do this for the next four months. Oh boy! :|

I chose noodles, since my other options were cornflakes and bread & cheese.

A typical meal

2330 hrs

Fall asleep, happy to be alive and in Sweden!

P.S: To be continued

Bloggerly Duties - 3: The ABC Tag

Last of the bloggerly duties. Once again by Nikita, this time the ABC tag.

A lot of evil exists in this world. It is upto you how you deal with it. Do you become bitter and angry when someone is cruel towards you? Do you take it out on others, justifying your own suffering as reason enough that they too must suffer?

I don't. So, I shall not tag anyone else. :P

So sit back, relax, and bear with me.

Here are the rules (d & e are being dropped):

a) Link the person who tagged you.

b) Post the rules on your blog.

c) Share the ABCs of you.

d) Tag 3 people at the end of your post by linking to them.

e) Let the 3 people know of the tag by leaving them comments.

f) Do not tag the original ‘tagger’.

So here goes!:

A – Available/Single? Are they the same thing? I've seen single but unavailable people as well as committed but available ones.

B – Best friend? Does it have to be one? I have several.

C – Cake or Pie? Do they even have pies in India?

D – Drink of choice? Appy Fizz

E – Essential item you use every day? The entire list? My laptop's the first thing I use, if you really want to know.

F – Favorite colour? Green

G – Gummy Bears Or Worms? Who would pick worms?

H – Hometown? Hyderabad

I – Indulgence? This blog

J – January or February? January, because it signifies a new beginning.

K – Kids & their names? Abhi rakha nahi

L – Life is incomplete without? Death

M – Marriage date? Is this tag meant for middle-aged family men/women with loads of kids?

N – Number of siblings? One

O – Oranges or Apples? Neither

P – Phobias/Fears? Drowning

Q – Quote for today? “The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.”

R – Reason to smile? Sweden

S – Season? Monsoon

T – Tag 3 People? Skip

U – Unknown fact about me? Should remain unknown

V – Vegetable you don't like? Turai

W – Worst habit? Laziness

X – X-rays you've had? Why would anyone want to know that?

Y – Your favorite food? Biryani

Z – Zodiac sign? I'm on the cusp of Gemini and Cancer, so Cancimini

There, I'm done. Footloose and tag-free!

Postcards from Europe - 1: Touchdown

The first of a series of posts on my trip to Europe.

The sunlight streams through the airplane’s window as I peer out at the landscape below. The wrinkled silver surface of the sea glimmers in the slating sun rays, with dark irregular islands protruding through the water. Small islands of different shapes, most seemingly virgin. We are approaching Stockholm, an archipelago of around 24,000 islands, most of which are too small for inhabitation. Think of the islands as bread crumbs that have broken off the surface and are floating away into the sea.

We are soon above the mainland and as I scan the Scandinavian landscape I am struck by how absolutely green it is. The terrain is covered with dense ‘Christmas’ trees for the most part, with cleared stretches of crops that are just a different shade of green. Soon I can see bright colored cottages, red or yellow or green, with large prominent windows. Remember the little houses we drew as kids? The ones with an angular roof and bright colors and disproportionately large windows, set on a lush green expanse? Apparently they do actually exist.

The hour-long bus ride from Arlanda airport to Stockholm city gave me my first glimpse of Swedish countryside, and then of a modern European city. It is like stepping onto a large elaborate movie set, with narrow cobbled streets, lined with elegantly designed buildings, a wide footpath having several bistros along the way. The orderly way people move around, crossing only at zebra crossings, cars stopping for pedestrians, cyclists sticking to tracks made exclusively for them all seem carefully choreographed. The sight of a fully suited elderly gentleman, the kind you would expect to step out of a Mercedes, wearing a helmet and riding a bicycle is interesting. On the highway, I see the occasional motorcyclist riding a racing bike as fast as the cars. One whizzes past me with the rider in a black helmet, black leather jacket, black leather trousers, and black boots. Her long flowing blonde hair completing the picture.

At the Stockholm bus & train station, a Swede asked me directions in Swedish. Halfway through his sentence he realized I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I wonder what tipped him off. My black hair, or brown skin, or black eyes? Color is something that I am constantly reminded of here. If I were to paint the Swedes, I would quickly run out of the color yellow. The golden yellow hair, the yellowish pink skin, and the (slightly freakish) green eyes make you see real-life Barbies and Kens everywhere.

The fact that all Swedes speak English is a major blessing. And that they have an easy to understand American accent is even better. They, however, struggle to understand English spoken with any other accent. I have come to the disturbing conclusion that to be understood, I must speak with an American accent, nasal twang and all. Trouble is I feel all fake and uncomfortable doing that.

A pleasantly disconcerting observation is the over-abundance of beauty in this place. On any street, in any cafetaria, in any class, I can’t help but wonder what sets apart fashion models from those that are walking past me. Is beauty really that abundant? Is it so common place? Or have my eyes not yet adjusted to the sight of Europeans with their fair skin and blue eyes that make them seem more beautiful to me than they will once the novelty wears off? Time will tell.

I'll talk about Jonkoping, the university, my accomodation, expenses and the rest in further posts.

Pics: Streets of Stockholm from my camera

IndiVote!

I registered on IndiBlogger.in a few months back. I thought the concept behind the site was excellent, though the execution, at the time, still needed work. I am happy to note that the site has constantly been improved and has found acceptance with a large number of Indian bloggers. It is a great place to browse new blogs according to topics, categories or location. I've found quite a few amazing blogs through it, and their new 'ranking' system, IndiRank, is pretty handy when it comes to picking a few good reads.

The 'ranking' system scores blogs on some (unknown) parameters. Why 'ranking' is in quotes is because it isn't really a rank. It is a score out of 100, and the more you score, the better. Why they call it a 'rank' and not a 'rating' or 'score' beats me. It is quite funny to see people mistaking these to be actual ranks and believing their relatively low score/rating is a good thing. :) I hope they rectify this minor glitch soon.

Anyway, they have a monthly 'IndiBlogger of the Month' contest. I was surprised to see that the topic for this month is 'Original Literature - Short Stories'. Those of you who have been following this blog will know that I've scribbled a few. I was wondering if I should nominate myself.

The trouble with voting contests is that they almost always turn into popularity contests. But since over the long-term popularity is strongly correlated with quality, it isn't completely unfair. But if you add the time variable, then a new blogger is at a significant disadvantage to an experienced one. I don't know if such contests actually overcome or enhance that bias. I'm willing to believe that it is the former. And in any case, as a moderately experienced blogger, I think I won't suffer or significantly benefit from this 'experience' bias, and hence have decided to nominate this blog.

If you like short stories, do check out the nominees for this month here. Then go ahead and pick your favorite!

Bloggerly Duties - 2: The 15 Books Tag

This is part 2 of the promised 3 part series of fulfilling my bloggerly duties. I was tagged with the 15-books tag by the Rambler here. Apologies to her for not doing this earlier, but 15 books is seriously a lot of books! Procrastination is my middle name, as those who know me will vouch. But better late than never, and so here goes:

These are roughly in reverse chronological order, while skipping a few skip-able books.

1. Enchantress of Florence: My new favorite read. A breathtakingly opulent tale of love, passion, war and philosophy, entwined in history and woven together with a narrative that leaves you speechless. For pages on end I had goosebumps reading the exquisite prose and I guess that says more than anything I can express in words.

2. Fooled by Randomness: A contrarian academician's exposition of all things random. As the title suggests, the book expounds on the universal human trait to make erronous judgments and accept false hypothesis due to the inability to deal with randomness of real life.

3. Maximum City: A hard-hitting unflinching account of a 'ruined metropolis'. An apt read during my stay in Mumbai, going behind the scenes of the daily chaos I saw all around me.

4. I'm Ok, You're Ok: A psychology book I picked up from a roadside stall because of the interesting title. Turned out to be a pretty famous book, though the basic premise was a bit hard to swallow. The crux of the message though, that we must learn to be Ok with ourselves and our surroundings, was fair enough.

5. Winner Stands Alone: I was never a Paulo Coelho fan and this book just reiterated my conviction. Somehow I find that most people who read his books have read only his books. So pretty hard to take their claims of his writing prowess seriously.

6. Sunny Shady Life: Written by a current MDI student about life on a campus, I picked it up expecting another Chetan Bhagat clone. I thought I would get an idea of how amateurish one can write and still have a book published, but I was pleasantly surprised. Not a classic for sure, but it had enough originality and content to keep me interested.

7. Kite Runner: Everyone's read it. It's simplicity is its strength. Playing to the whole mystique and paranoia surrounding Taliban and conditions in Afghanistan, it does a good job of creating a human interest story. Not a classic, but eminently readable.

8. A Thousand Splendid Suns: A work much superior than Kite Runner. The pathos, the helpless tragedy of two Afghan woman is sensitively portrayed. Many a times makes one feel ashamed to be a man, ashamed to be free and ashamed to be unable to help. Worthy of all the acclaim.

9. Good to Great: Part of my business books reading phase. But an MBA has got me kinda sick of the retrospective analysis of successful strategies of companies. They have absolutely no predictive value as many of the companies carefully selected as models of superior businesses have since gone under.

10. Art of the Deal: One of Donald Trump's many attempts at self-aggrandization. In spite of that, he seems honest when talking about his failures and hence someone worth reading.

11. The Undercover Economist: One of the more successful books of the genre of popular economics that sprang up after the path-breaking success of Freakonomics. A hotch-potch of explanations of common business practice passed off as 'insight'. Still worth reading for gaining an insider's view of how we're constantly being duped by firms.

12. Blink & Tipping Point: Both best-sellers, but neither one too convincing. I am a fan of Gladwell's articles in the New Yorker and wish he would just stick to them. But that's just me I guess.

13. Freakonomics: Thought-provoking and delightfully counter-intuitive. Running through it is a pleasure as you're always anticipating which devious explanation the authors' are gonna come up with to explain previously misunderstood phenomenon.

14. Midnight's Children: My previous favorite book. The words seem to collide into each other, leaving you breathless and tired in a good way. A mind-bending display of pure mastery of language and originality. A book to savor and treasure.

15. Inheritance of Loss: Deep melancholy and unrelenting tragedy. Depressing, yet realistic, which only adds to the sadness.

Others:

Chetan Bhagat's 3 books: Decent one-time reads. I find it funny how people who have read only his books claim to dislike them. What were they expecting? A literary classic? They are meant to be enjoyable light-reads, something to kill time with on a train, and they meet that end quite respectably. The quality seems to be decreasing with each book though.

Grisham, Sheldon, Ludlum, Dan Brown, Archer, Puzo and the rest of the pulp-fiction club are good stuff to read on long vacations.

It's been a long time since I've read classics, so I guess I should revisit some of them


Nicholas Taleb mentions in his book 'Black Swan' of Umberto Eco's 'anti-library'. He is referring to the fact that a library is only as valuable as the books in it that are as yet unread. My anti-library has grown quite large and I hate not reading as much as I would like to.

On my shelf right now: Mohammad Hanif's 'A Case of Exploding Mangoes' & Taleb's 'Black Swan'. I also have James Joyce's 'A Portrait of an Artist', but it's quite unreadable, at least right now.


Phew!

And now for the fun part.


I take a great amount of sadistic pleasure in tagging Nikita, Avanti, Karishma, Pallav & Harshad.

10 Things I haven't done

10. Watched the Northern Lights (aurora borealis) from the top of the world.

9. Viewed the Sun set on Paris from atop the Eiffel Tower.

8. Screamed my lungs out watching Kaka, Ronaldo & Company play for Real Madrid at the Bernebeu.

7. Climbed the Leaning Tower of Pisa and wondered if it's gonna topple over.

6. Taken a Gondola ride in Venice.

5. Stared at the Mona Lisa and wondered what the fuss was all about.

4. Walked the Colloseum and felt like a gladiator.

3. Relived history at the Vatican and St. Peter's Basilica.

2. Taken a boat ride through Norwegian Fjords.

1. Tried to sketch the Swiss Alps (and not from photographs).




Yet.


I am leaving for Sweden in a couple of days for a 4-month long student exchange program. Needless to say, I am very excited! Though my budget is limited, I hope to be able to do some of the most appealing things Europe has to offer, and the above list is a sample.

And as I set out with a sense of adventure and wanderlust to discover foreign lands, ancient cultures, diverse people and varied landscapes, I hope this trip will be as much about rediscovering myself. Though I have physically stayed put, my spirit has been wandering for a long time now in search of meaning, purpose and hope. I wish to find all of these, and discover within myself an enduring optimism and a joie de vivre to last a lifetime.

All that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring;
renenwed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king.

- Tolkein


So wish me luck folks! (and don't be too jealous :P)

Short Story: 'The First Kill'

They say the first kill is the hardest. That it becomes easier after that. They are absolutely right.

You grow up thinking killing is the worst sin, an almost unreal occurrence that belongs in the world of make-believe, in movies and stories; an act carried out by despicable villains. Then one day you're faced with a choice you had never thought you would have to make. Answer a question you never thought you would be asked.

Your existence or someone else's.

It is as simple as that. Survival of the fittest they call it. If to survive, you must be fit, and if to be fit, you need to be able to kill, then can your desire to exist be held against you?

My first target picked itself. I don’t call him a victim, for he would’ve done the same to me eventually, had I not put him down. Anyways, he was a long-time companion. We were bosom buddies, confidantes, comrades and the best of friends. We knew each other’s deepest secrets and our darkest fears. Or at least I thought we did. He certainly knew mine. In fact, he knew about everything that happened to me. I turned to him for advice, and followed him even when I disagreed. I trusted his infallibility even more than my own. Guess I am to be blamed here, but who knew? Life is funny, in the way it changes colors. The sun sets on a once bright relationship, and you're left alone in the dark, wondering how things had come to such a pass. Paths diverge, priorities change, ideologies differ. An invisible, barely perceptible mental gap appears, eventually growing large enough to finally break through the smiles that have now grown insincere. And I had let it stay that way treating it as a minor discomfort that could be accommodated. Big mistake. While I believed the implicit truce between us was an equilibrium state, he went about marshalling forces to launch an attack. I will be honest to admit that I was unprepared and he caught me completely by surprise. This is a lesson I learnt and I’ve never left myself exposed to such a risk since. Conflicts that cannot be resolved must be settled, once and for all.

His attack was meant to finish me off. But I survived. From then on, both of us knew there would be only one result.

There is nothing melodramatic about killing, and if anything, I would say that the post-first-kill feeling is quite an anti-climax. You wait for the violent shudder to chill your spine, you brace for the rush of adrenalin and a whole cocktail of hormones to flood through your veins numbing your senses. Tears, depression, insomnia, all symptomatic of acute guilt, are expected. You’re like ‘here it comes…’, but the penny never drops. And for this, they call you a cold-blooded killer. Not my fault I say. I really wanted to feel bad, to lay awake scared of the nightmares that would haunt if I let slumber take over, to cry tears of repentance and penance. But nope, nothing.

There was no funeral, I was never charged for the crime. No one even came to know of his death. For though the murder was brutal and cold-blooded, no one mourns the death of a conscience.

R.I.P PPT

I made this short presentation using a new software called Prezi.

Loading may take a bit of time. But trust me, it'll be worth it! You can click on the slide to move forward at your own pace (autoplay is a little slow)

from prezi.com

You can also view it full screen here

I see you

My first experiment with charcoal. Stumbled upon charcoal sticks at a bookstore recently, so picked them up, and here's the attempt.

Charcoal behaves quite unlike how I expected it to. It deposits a thin and very loosely held layer of charcoal on paper. You can almost smudge it by blowing hard. Since the sticks are pretty blunt, it's very hard to get fine details right. Hopefully I'll figure it out the best way to use them in the next few attempts.



The idea is that I'm imagining I can see everyone who reads this page though this eye. (Is that creepy?)

Bloggerly Duties - 1: An Award!

I have been neglecting my bloggerly duties for a while now. So this is part 1 of 3 posts dedicated to rectifying that situation.

My first (and as yet, only) blogging award!! :D

Granted to me by Nikita here.

"Thank you, Thank you!" (imagines wild applause and blinding camera flashes)

Blogging has been really good to me. At a time when I really needed it, I found a lot of amazing people and made a few great friends. Cheers to all of them! :)

Ok, enough of the speech..

Now the pic on the award is, for some reason, of a girl on a Vespa. So, I'll be gender biased and award it to a few of the exceptional female bloggers I follow (only in a good way!)

And since this is a 'blogger friend' award, I'll be taking it quite literally and award it to people I've come to know through blogger and now count amongst my friends.

*Drumroll*

Nikita: For the pieces of fiction that make you wish she had dragged it longer. Unapologetic stance on issues. The unending comments she receives. And most importantly, the fantastic sense of humor interwoven in most posts. (Don't worry, this is just an award and not a tag)

Divya: For her short but extremely precise posts. Also for her amazing artwork and mostly, for just being an amazing person.

Shilpi: For expressing both profound and personal thoughts with such disarming honesty and ease. Especially fascinating for me because of my tendency to shy away from writing on personal issues.

Azra: For her amazing consistency at producing one paradigm-shifting post after another. Her blog's a source of wisdom and provides an eloquently worded perspective on a whole variety of things. Someone I admire and look up to.

Tangled Up in Blue: For her sheer talent with words. She could have been a professional writer, but she prefers saving lives, and the world will have to make do with her fantastic blog. Her posts make my own deficiency in writing skill glaringly obvious.

That's all for tonight folks. Those reading this at home, keep watching this space for more!