Trials and Tribulations by Fire

    Book Review:  RIP by Mukul Deva   I signed up for the Book Review program of Blogadda.com recently. Being a book lover, I just adored the opportunity to read and post my review about the books they sent me.   The latest book I signed up for is Mukul Deva's RIP.       When I got the courier, I was quite excited, as is always the case. I love the feel of a new book. I smell it first, run my fingers through the crisp pages and then begin reading.   Usually, a book just pulls me into itself, making me forget the world, I do not care if the world falls apart around me, I read on. I had expected earth shattering stuff to happen with this one too. Nothing happened. I was slightly perplexed. I read about four pages and closed the book. It lay on my table for two days, beckoning me.   Finally, on the third day, I picked it up again. I decided to get over, what I call, the 'reader's block', and picked up speed.   Slowly, minutes became

Friends... People who we supposedly choose People who we bond with, sometimes more often than with family People who know our innermost secrets and passions People who love us despite our shortcomings People who we can call at the dead of the night People who stand by you when a kin dies People who give you a loan, a shoulder to cry Friends... People who talk incessantly about their kids once they are married, does not matter if you are single People who selfishly call you when they need to get information People who miss your call when they are with their loved ones and vow that they were in a meeting People who tell your parents that you drink People who call you up on your birthday and forget to wish People who reveal your worst nightmare to strangers People who tell you that your job sucks when you get promoted People who cozy up when your social status improves People who claim to be in touch with all your updates but do not read your blog or your book if you

I step out of my house in trepidation. Fear lurks closeby. Fear. A foreign emotion. I cover my shoulders lest I attract unwanted attention. I walk with my head bent low. I Fear my bowed head will touch the ground and I will become one with the sand and dust.  I Fear.  I Fear to look into the eyes of the leering eyes of the autowallah standing outside my door.  I Fear that a stray gust will blow my dress too close to my body and show off my shape. I Fear that I will attract unwanted attention.  I Fear that I will provoke a 'red-blooded' man.  I Fear that I will be shown my place.  I Fear that I will have to eventually resort to wearing a Burkkha and step out only with a man.  I Fear Men.  I Fear...

Here are a few sample chapters of the novella: the Legal Bond. The Legal Bond Chapter 1 Today Maya sat by the window, a book on her lap, long neglected because her heart was full and her mind too elated to be able to take in the printed word. She leaned happily against Ravi who sleepily put an arm around her shoulder. The trees flying past the speeding bus reminded her of the recent past when she had met Ravi, fallen in love, and almost lost him because of her own folly. The bus carried in its belly a motley group headed to the temple town of Tiruvannamalai. Maya sat in the air-conditioned coach, her mind going over various incidents that had taken place in the past. In just a few more hours, they would reach their destination. Maya sighed as she heard Ravi’s gentle breathing, which told her he was fast asleep now. She sank back against the soft cushions and focused on completing her book. The trip would be hectic, she knew. This was the first time she was visiting

SRK rocks! Just returned home after watching JTHJ in S2 cinemas aka Theyagaraya with a sense of joy that I got last after watching DDLJ.  JTHJ, a 2012 release, written and produced by Aditya Chopra and blessed by Yash Chopra.  JTHJ is a typical Hindi movie and moves you, makes you empathize with SRK and cry with Katrina (I was shocked!)  The storyline oozes genius and this movie is a fitting finale to the master  storyteller Yash Chopra. Kudos! So, Major Samar Anand completely woos the two women in the movie apart from the other women in the theatre. Katrina and Anushka have done a good job dancing to SRK's tunes. The movie moves effortlessly from London to Leh, India. Songs are shot well and Kat has done the dance number very well. SRK matches Kat well and the audience lapped it up. I sat mesmerized as Major Samar diffused bomb after bomb and made many women's heartbeats miss.  Anushka's on-screen striptease took the men by surprise and I heard a few col

Finally, ended up making my favorite sweet: 7 cup sweet. Also called as 'Ezhu Battlu,' in Karnataka and by my maternal grandmom.  Ok, the '7' in the name comes from the seven ingredients that are required.  Check this out:  This is how the cake looks like once it cools. You should be able to easily cut it into pieces.  Ingredients:  Besan - 1 cup Powdered sugar - 3 cups (I used 1.5 cups) Ghee - 1 cup Cashew nut powder + almonds - 1 cup Milk - 1 cup Method to prepare: Mix all the ingredients and stir well so that there are no lumps.  Now, take all the ingredients in a thick bottom kadai and put on high flame. Keep stirring to ensure the flour gets mixed well.  After 10 mins, reduce the flame to low and continue stirring. You will find bubbles coming out and the mixture starts leaving the sides. Take a square or circle plate and grease it with ghee. After 10 mins, the batter consistency will be thick and you can see the bottom

Deep within, a churning, a rumbling boil threatens to bring down the fortress so carefully I built; A fear creeps up, slowly, steadily up the spine and lodges in the heart, near the nerve; Farther I go, the faster it catches up, I run, to shake it off, it follows like my shadow; Oh! Why are you following only me I ask, you are the best, it says! Dumbstruck I turn, I See my reflection and reflect on my own fallacies and fantasies; Longing becomes painful, yearning becomes a companion;  Heart is where the blood gets cleaned, life is where my sorrow gets a life;

Nowadays, wherever I turn, I see diyas and lights. It is Diwali time in namma Chennai. The colors are resplendent and bright; flames flickering in the light wind.  Ladies decked in their best gold and Kancheevarams, throng the narrow busy streets of Mylapore; haggling with the flower vendors and pot-bellied men selling lovely mud diyas.  How people navigate their large bosoms and butts and reach their destinations is beyond me. I keep getting amazed at the ease with which a scooter wala uncle manages to reach home in one single piece with all his bones and flesh intact challenging the perversion of the organism called the MTC driver. It has been ages since I last boarded an MTC bus. I often drive to work and to other places of interest. I do not even donate money to the next set of perverts: the infamous Chennai auto walas .  I had a chilling run-in with a Chennai auto wala  and after that I swore that I will not donate my hard-earned money to give business to the TASMAC own