Trials and Tribulations by Fire

Thousand questions and zero answers, i ask, why is this so? Is this how a Kamla, Rama, Mohana, Radha lead their lives? So what if my anatomy differs from you? Am I not free to be sad? Why should I forsake my right to sorrow and tears? Now that I am bound, do I cease to exist? Do I not care for each cell on your hair? Do I not wipe those little nicks while you sleep? Why, then, is the disparity between the care for me and Shyama? Why, does every word I utter mean something else, entirely? Why does every action demand a detailed explanation? Why should I curb my lust and live like a saint? Am I not free to free myself? Why should I talk about saints, when all I want is to cuddle? What happens to the whimpers that surge out, why should I curb and turn them into smiles? Do my joys matter to anyone? Who cares if I smile 'coz I am happy or to feed your ego? Why, I ask, should I go on like this? Why...

I got married wearing a nine-yard saree, also quite uninnovatively called, a madisaar . As many women who wear a necklace called a "Thaali" know, it is an integral part of the TamBram(TB) culture. Nowadays, it reveals itself only when some remote diety has to be pleased. This post is not about the saree, rather, about the community that struts around in the saree. The other day, I happened to view photographs of a friend's friend's wedding. The guy looked very Brahm (B), but the girl wasn't wearing the madisaar. I pondered, wondered, then questioned my friend. Is he a TamBram? To which she nodded, quite excitedly, and said, "Of course babe, can't you make out." I couldn't, hence, I asked her, unashamedly though, to check with him. She did, all the while glaring at me. She even gave a disclaimer saying, hey don't think, am dumb, but are you a TB? The guy said, yes, I am a B, but not a TB. Well, that settled the issue. I rested in peace. No

The green monster gobbles up my time The green cross that stares back at me viciously I refrain from turning away, I click the red cross to wish it away Orange is the blip that beseeches me towards the green monster I allow it to devour me, reluctantly, silently Relief sets in, I die on its face The green monster blinks and moves away

When the hunger for food arises, composure declines. A hungry mouth demands morsel for the not-so-hungry brain. Love, affection, and respect fly out the window when hunger strikes. Anger fills the heart and fire burns the eyeballs. Human that I am, strong is the pull of stomach, many a hearts, on the way, I break.

Why does it seem difficult to wean myself away from this feeling? I feel glued to the computer, my eyeballs are caught by the screen and heart beats faster whenever the orange blip jumps. Is this true?

Understanding love at 33 ain't easy unrest, heartburn, and tipsyness gathers momentum vroom goes the heart beat when he walks by I take a U turn when I miss the road to work, again

Here is a JD i got in the mail today: Dear candidates,We have exhalent openings for Instructional Designer We have an opening with one of our client WIPRO TECHNOLOGIES witch is cmmi level company. Experience Level- 5-9 years Skill Set - Instructional DesignerLocation – Bangalore/Pune/Hyderabad Exposure to enterprise application is preferred Training Content development About 4-5 years of experience with development of ILTs, WBTs and CBTs Advance skills with ROBO HELP authoring tool Demonstrated skills with Microsoft Office suite Experience in Stand-up training Experience with WBT authoring tools such as Captivate, Articulate and Elicitus will be a plus...bla blaa blaa.. She could have rather bleated and bleated! 

I am currently reading Chetan Bhagat's 2 States. It is a love story, but told in a nice way. Its as if the author is speaking with you and telling you the story. An informal, yet powerful way of capturing the reader's attention. Now, the thing with Indian readers is that they pick up books that tell them tales of woes that are similar to theirs. They like to read books or see movies that sell them a dream. The dream that makes all those ads to sell nonsensical products. Now, now I was telling you about 2 States. The story is about a Madrassi and a Punjabi munda. Eh, you know how it is, right. Yes, we know it too. All love stories have this tinge to them. The hatred, the love conquers all theme. Cmon, we all grew up on this. :) Now, 2 states is about how 2 IIM grads make out in college and try to understand their parents when they freak out at the mention of marriage between a Punju and Madrassi. Now, is that a new topic? Now, what is different in this, is the treatment

Am back, and how. This almost sounds similar to "Ong bak," but then, its ok. Nowadays, all'z ok. Should I rather say, all'z well. hehe. ;) I have returned to my blog after a hiatus of 365 days. yeah, that's how long I have been away from the blog. Well, it was fun to not write anything here. But again, its a personal thing that one can't keep away from not doing something that one loves. In my case, its writing and pouring out my thoughts.