creations!!

2012-01-27T18:16:00.002+01:00

In the previous post, i didn't realise that i when i wrote 'where do people go?, i might also be questioning their existence.

I was shocked to read something that i never could have imagined in the wildest of my dreams. I'll miss that person. Even when i type this, my eyes get glazed.
I don't know whether i should continue blogging.

I feel cheated.

2012-01-06T22:20:00.003+01:00

Where do known faces and known people disppear over time? Of course, each of us have our own 'life' to deal with, to enjoy it and all that. But sometimes, i tend to think about people whom i knew. Where might they be, what might they be doing? Hopefully, good.

Just a thought.

2012-01-04T21:27:00.002+01:00

It was dusk. There was absolutely no sun shine around. The sky outside the window looked a beautiful deep blue. Prussian blue when used without diluting the colour. But the trunk and the branches of a tree outside appeared a dull white.

After about half hour, the tone was more intense and splendid. Extremely pleasing to the eyes, and one would want to step into it right away. And only a silhouette of the tree could be discerned.

2012-01-01T18:42:00.003+01:00

Hope the new year brings in some goodness in everybody's lives. I seriously hope that this year is better than the previous year. I want it to be.

Have a nice one!

2011-12-27T17:42:00.004+01:00

The 'Kolavari' song is not good. If that song is to be termed 'nice', then the meaning of the adjective is similar to a situation where a year and a half kid mixes a piece of chalk with the froth of milk with a spoon in a bowl, then puts the same spoon into her mouth and pronounces it as 'nice'.

And we have various versions of the song, the number of which increases as days pass by. I don't understand that 'magic' in the song which has attracted millions of people around the globe. Whatta song!!

2011-12-22T18:34:00.002+01:00

Since the last year or more, i've become quite cynical with people. i tend to judge them, come to conclusions immediately without even thinking about the sanity of the thought.

I think i can fathom the incidents (if i can call them) which got me into this bad, negative frame of mind, which is so not a part of me. Maybe, when one thinks that the whole world is against her/him and nothing good seems to be hapenning, then i guess this occurs. But i so want to get out of this. It's not a nice feeling when one gets contemptuous about things.

snow flakes

2011-12-20T21:22:00.005+01:00

When she looked out of the windows, it looked normal. The grills outisde prevented one from having a view in it's entirity. Later, after an hour or so, when she went into the kitchen to fetch something, she could see flakes of snow falling on the cemented path. With absolutely no sound accompanying the fall.

She had never assumed that showflakes would be really that small, about a centimeter in diameter. She had imagined them to be bigger than that. And with a wind raging outide, one that could wreck one's open umbrella, the flakes took a very diagonal approach to the earth.

As she stepped out into the open, small balls of snow landed on her coat, and she reached out to brush them off. Everything was covered in white. And was still being covered. Prints of the soles of different shoes, in assorted sizes lead one to various destinations. Some walked straight while some turned elsewhere. They were then buried in fresh snow, that seemed to fall contiuously.

The front portion on the shoes were masked in white powder, and the feet had to be stamped hard to remove them. She walked slowly on it, for she could slip on a patch of partially melted snow. It had already happenned twice and she didn't want it to occur again.

A white soft blanket is spread outside. It adds a dull light and one could presume that the Sun is out from hiding from amidst the clouds. Pure white snow looks beautiful, indeed.

2011-12-17T22:48:00.003+01:00

I've been eating cake almost everyday and plenty of chocolates. I know my face has become rounder because of this. I so need to cut down on this. Maybe after Christmas.

The stores are decorated and lit up, and one gets an air of festivity as one walks into them. Fir trees are everywhere, some still being sold, while some others glow. The Christkindlmarkt have a beatiful aura around them. People mill aorund buying things and window-shopping. It's amazing. It reminds me of walking along a market in Bengaluru during a festival.

2011-12-12T22:55:00.004+01:00

The translation tool from Google can really be helpful. Well, it is half the time, but it can be made more useful the proper translation. The product should contain sense basically, and should be ok grammatically. The grammer can attribute different meanings to one simple sentence.

If they can provide a voice tool, the main job should be carried out nicely.

2011-12-07T22:20:00.003+01:00

Some people here ask me if Bengaluru is similar to Munich. I reply saying that it's two different worlds together. Something that simply can't be compared. I wonder where to start, and what to tell when i'm asked to describe the country. Maybe i should tell them about the practices and the lifestyle that i follow. Atleast here, i'll be able to convey something to them.

2011-12-05T20:29:00.003+01:00

I really don't like it when directors of Indian movies use the tunes of the national song and the national anthem(and sometimes, the lines as well) in sequences in films to show what i don't know. Which is really not required. I don't get this funda at all. Yes, to represent one's feelings of nationalism, but even this in an out-of-the-blue instance is weird.

2011-11-26T20:41:00.004+01:00

I'm so eating a lot of icecreams I've never eaten these many ever. We hardly ate it, but when i desired it, i ate a big one. But the frequency increased after an MTR Shoppe openned in the neighbourhood, and we found that their icecreams have improved.

Guess, i'll get bored of them after some time.

2011-11-14T16:30:00.002+01:00

I've to get used to the keyboards here. They are different. The positioning of some keys are different and a few are different as it is. And the keys of a regular keyboard and that of a Mac is different. I know i've used a lot of 'different' here. My fingers automatically use the sequence they are used too, that a key one place to the left or right helps me make errors.

I guess, it's a matter of time before i get used to it. That is, if i. With three or more varieties of keyboards, i don't know.

2011-11-08T22:16:00.003+01:00

My sir from the art class always used to ask me why anybody did whatever they did. Till their death, or something like that. Of course, he is old and talks a lot of philosophy.

I'm reminded of the same question today. This can be sadistic; but seriously, do 'aspirations', 'goals', blah, blah, blah matter?

2011-11-05T21:10:00.004+01:00

Almost everybody with whom i get talking, tell me that they would want to visit India. They say this almost instantly, after a few sentences have been exchanged. And they seem excited even when talking about it. Now, i don't know if they actually mean it. Nevertheless, they wish to visit the country. I never expected this though.

I was quite taken aback when i first encountered such a thing, but i guess, it's just like this.

2011-11-04T18:59:00.003+01:00

With the current petrol prices in Bengaluru, it won't be long before we pay hundred rupees for a litre. With that, the LPG rates will also be increased, and it won't be long before the auto rates go up. Like it's reasonably priced.

God save us!

2011-11-01T20:26:00.005+01:00

Mother usually knows the time bang-on even without looking at a clock. I always wondered how. And we generally tell the time using the amount of sun that we see or don't see.

And i used to do it here too, for the last couple of weeks. But now, i've to remind myself that Munich is one hour ahead than before. I don't realise this until i see a watch. Even as i type, i see the clock on my table and tell myself that i have a few more hours to go before sleeping time.

2011-10-30T19:52:00.004+01:00

Some people appear and disappear in our lives. Some make delible impressions and some don't. Some memories are memorable, some are not. We really can't forecast the outcomes, can we?

If this forecasting indeed worked, then it would have been nice. I think, this is not limited with only people, but rather with everything. Which apparently does not happen. So why talk about it?

Nevertheless, such instances occur in everybody's lives. I guess.

2011-10-28T21:40:00.005+02:00

A few people had told me about the hindi film 'Anand'. After having seen the film, i've been playing the songs again and again. Soulful and melodious. I can't seem to stop humming them.

Nice film and amazing songs.

2011-10-27T09:12:00.002+02:00

I like the scene of autumn. Yes, the trees are bare, now, that's not so nice. But the dry vermillion coloured maple leaves attached to the trees, waiting to fall down looks beautiful. Flying wildly in the wind. Since some years, i always wanted to see maple leaves, they have wonderfully shaped.

And the spread of them on the ground, and the crackle you hear on stepping on them. The colour appears good there too. I want to capture falling leaves on my camera. I think i'll do it.

2011-10-24T21:34:00.003+02:00

So finally namma metro has rolled out and is being functional. After many delays. It looked nice in the photos. And hope it'll be maintained as such, even in the future. And also, hope that the rest of it is delivered to the public within the scheduled time.

But, yes, there was (and is?) a lot of damage caused to the roads when the lines were (and are) being laid. Wish the roads are made usable again (not that they are not in use).

2011-10-22T21:41:00.003+02:00

I don't understand how the weather can remain cold even when the Sun's shining. Maybe, the Sun's warmth is totally ineffectual in freezing conditions or something like that.

2011-10-20T16:46:00.005+02:00

I think i'll never forget this instance. I was transiting in Muscat, I had about five hours to catch my flight. And i was sitting with my laptop open. I was trying to figure out how to use the WiFi offered at the airport.

As an acquaintance and i were talking about it, we were asked a few questions on the same by two other people. And the acquaintance was explaining it all. As they proceeded on their way, they said 'Vanakkam' straight out-of-the blue.

I understand that i look very South-Indian, but it does not mean that i'm a 'Madrasi' so as to say, and my tongue is Tamil. I also understand from centuries, the region of South India was synonmous with 'Madras', now Chennai. Maybe, this is ok. When my own countrymen from above the Vindhyas label anybody from the south as a 'Madrasi', i shouldn't expect it from a random person who visits India from across the globe.

And to my countrymen/women (from north of the Vindhyas), please read something on India (whatever happened to 'general knowledge' that we guys learnt in school, before you ask the next South Indian whether she or he speaks Tamil.

2011-10-19T20:07:00.004+02:00

The best part of going to Marienplatz or Odeonsplatz, in addition to seeing some oh so wonderful! structures, is the music there. I've always found nice music being played there. Be it the accordion or the piano It's really good.

2011-10-16T19:46:00.003+02:00

As one gets into Marienplatz or Odeonsplatz, one immediately realizes that one is in Europe. Not that there aren't other indicators. But these two places still carry the old charm. Old buildings, sculptures, cobbled roads which are restricted to motored vehicles, music being played in front of a store.

Marienplatz has big stores, and as one walks towards Odeonsplatz, one can notice various brands. Odeonsplatz is statues, carved doors, an old church, German police on horses at the entrance of Hofsgarten and tourists.

Nice.

2011-10-14T21:12:00.005+02:00

I don't understand how the leaves on the trees outside my room appear green, even when it's dark outside. i don't know if i'm even to feel surprised about it. I look from an area of light and perhaps, then i should see things in their natural colours so as to say. Nevertheless, aren't things supposed to look dark in the night.

Possibly, this is physics. Anyways, the subject didn't favour me much during my younger years.

2011-10-11T22:47:00.004+02:00

The one thing i really regret not doing when in Bengaluru, is not taking pictures of all my paintings and keeping them with me. I postponed the job until the moment i didn't have the time to do so. I miss them now, and i want to show it a few friends. Sad. I don't remenber what i did in the last few months.

I had a painting of flowers incomplete since last year. I would be asked to complete it, as i shrugged my shoulders in reply. That was the first incomplete painting by me. People say that these things are common, the incompleted ones.

2011-10-10T20:34:00.002+02:00

The English Garden is beautiful. The green is everywhere. I was told that the Isar runs through the Garden. And i walk, looking out for it. A small boy pushes his bicycle forward seated on the seat. He is too small to ride one. Guided and encouraged by his grandparents, he goes forward along the side of the walking path. I look back at them a couple of times, and exchange smiles.

I spot a small bridge. I climb it and start clicking some pictures. A streams runs beneath it, and the scene is appealing. A mother walks with her two children in tow. She stops and offers to click some pictures with me in them. I say no, and i ask whether the stream is the Isar or not. A friend had told me that it was a narrow river, but i imagined it to be really narrow.

She consults a map and says no. When i ask for directions to reach the same, she offers me the map that she used. I decline it, and we see some people run in a particular directions. Still seeing them, she tells me that those are the Munich Marathon runners.

I walk ahead to find a fork. On bypassing that, i see sheep and rams grazing on an open field. I gaze at them, and go close to them. A small kid went away from me as it saw me approaching it. The older ones were used to humans, i guess.

I fear that i get lost and hesitate to venture forward. I return on the paths i had taken and reach the bridge. I walk to the stream and sense the coolness of the water; to find that it numbs the fingers for a few minutes even after contact. I then see a map of the Garden on a post, and measure the distance to be covered by me to reach the Isar. Not being suffciently equipped for the cold, i decide to return to my room, telling myself that i will visit the Isar on another day.

2011-10-09T08:39:00.003+02:00

I experienced an autumn (in the literal sense of the word here) and the winter is yet to set in. I was late, and my feet wore a pair of sandals, and i had a sweater thrown on my T-shirt. Looking outside from my room, i observed the environment to be cold. But the extent of it could only be fathomed only when i stepped out. I was freezing at the U-bahns, when walking to the Studentenwerk at Haderner Stern, and the most when waiting for somebody at the MVG Kundencenter. I was getting chilled, and my bones began to ache.

When i used to see English films back home, i used to wonder why people were always dressed in pullovers and jackets. Now, i know, one can't go out without one or two sweaters and shoes.

2011-10-05T19:44:00.003+02:00

I don't understand the use of the word 'cool'. I don't think i use the word in my speech, much. Unless, of course, in the literal sense of the word. Each of us have different usage of words, in different contexts.

But i find the usage of this particular word to express approval or satisfaction (hope i make sense here) strange. I don't know why, but i do.

2011-10-03T09:19:00.003+02:00

The last few years have been, i don't know what to say. At times, i think it's ok with the way things happennned. It might have helped me. (i've to decide on this whether it did helped me or not after a year or so). I wouldn't have tried my hand in painting, and feel happy and satisfied with it, the way i do.

On the other hand, i tend to think that i gave myself too much time to think things out. But the way things panned out, the last year, i am left undecisive.

I want to leave the bad things behind and move on. i know it's going to be hard, really hard. But i want to face it, to know how tough things can really get. And if i'm able to cope with it. I want to cope with it. I've always seen myself as a tough person. I want to see if i'm really that kind.

I undertsand that this post is so much about myself. But these are the thoughts on my mind since the last few weeks.

2011-09-30T19:32:00.002+02:00

I realized that the area in which i stay in is literally bereft of trees only yesterday. Not a single tree on quite a few roads. I don't know if other parts of the city also have the same kind of roads. I hope not.

2011-09-28T04:41:00.002+02:00

The last book that i read was on Chowringhee which had a yellow cover After that, i borrowed another book on short stories whith another bright yellow bind. It attracted me and i thought i could read half of the short stories present in that book. Well, i could. But the events since the past two weeks, have me occupied.

Dasara starts from today. Happy Navaratri and a Happy Dasara!

2011-09-23T18:37:00.003+02:00

On visiting Kolkota after about ten years, i wasn't happy with the city. There wasn't much improvement. I guess the city is not easy to manage, the buildings are darkened due to the heavy rains, the huge population is difficult to manage, the people who come to the city from the surrounding areas have no sufficient means of livelihood.

When i saw a few hand-drawn rickshaws, i was reminded of the film 'Do Bigha Zameen'. Sad. Very. Do see the film if u get an oppurtunity.

2011-09-14T15:46:00.004+02:00

I read Chowringhee by Sankar over the last few weeks. This was the book that i read to the end after having read a little of the others that i intended to read. It is quite a nice book, will keep one occupied throughout. The first book that i read exclusively on a hotel, it's staff, it's clients, it's operations.

2011-09-08T19:23:00.004+02:00

The view in which we see others at times; when things are not going right with us, is so wrong. We tend to reason it out so cynically that i'm ashamed of it myself. I tell this to myself some umpteen number of times, but when i'm really worried, i tend to see a stranger whom i wouldn't have seen it before that moment and start a critical analysis like it's the most important thing.

People tend to influence us in the weirdest of fashions, unknowingly at that. And it is only right for us to choose the 'influencing' bit. Hope we are clear about it. I'm trying hard to get myself out of this series of baseless thoughts.

2011-09-05T19:13:00.002+02:00

This Teacher's Day, as i remember good memories of them, bad ones fill my thoughts too. I've gained much from them, in good ways.

And from bad ones, i've learnt how not to be what they are and how not to treat others' the way some of us were treated.

2011-09-03T20:02:00.002+02:00

As time passes and as i see more of the world around me and try comprehending it, the one conclusion that i have reached is that bravery is required of us, irrespective of whether we like it or not or rather, if we prepare ourselves with it or not.

Moreover, being a woman and facing things requires much more of that courage. And many times, we are unable to do them because we are women. I don't know if i'm speaking pro-women. But i've felt this given some circumstances. It's so easy for a man at times.

2011-08-25T18:46:00.003+02:00

I don't like this. I don't have the penchant to read much these days. Maybe, it's because i have other work to be taken care of.

Currently, i have a book on Urdu short stories which is quite good. And another of which i had heard good things about. Somehow, i can't pull myself to them anymore. Gone are the days when i used to read day in and day out. I don't know, maybe it's that other important activities are to be performed, whereas earlier, i was not required to do those.

2011-08-24T19:24:00.002+02:00

At the end of it all, one wouldn't others to undergo the same kind of anxiousness or strain that one experiences. A one-time experience is enough for one person. A second person under similar pressure and uncertainty can be really rude.

2011-08-20T18:59:00.003+02:00

I didn't realize that i'd get to like watercolours to a great extent. I'm starting to fancy it very much. The medium is awesome to work with. I don't know why, but i don't like to experiment with other media presently. And i don't think i have the time to start experimenting too.

Yes, i can't do the details very well with watercolours and you have hazy paintings with blurred effects at times. The way in which i view them when compared to oils or acrylics is very different. But i guess, those are the characters of the medium which attract me.

2011-08-17T15:37:00.005+02:00

I have been to the NGMA (National Gallery for Modern Art) before, when it was opened to the public. But that was years ago.

If i remember correctly, it was known as the Manikyavelu (i don't know if i've spelt it correctly) Mansion prior to it being christened the NGMA. The mansion was renovated over a period of two-three years while i was studying at MCC. In those days, i used to see it everyday. The environs is pleasant. Stark white buildings in the midst of greenery.

It's a paradise for an art-lover. One should have lots of time in hand if one wants to see all the collections. I don't remember much of my previous visit as it was a hurried one, but i want to visit it once again.

2011-08-15T19:07:00.003+02:00

I have always wanted to listen to an orchestra performed by the defense forces. It would be splendid, i was told.

I did enjoy the one performed by the Indian Air Force the other day. The locale was perfect and the occasion too. As it was announced, the area allotted to them could not accommodate all their musical instruments. Maybe, that was the reason why it did not sound as good as i expected it to sound. Some of the bits were really nice.

Hope i get to experience another such performance.

2011-08-10T19:31:00.003+02:00

Seriously, when compared to the other cities in India, Bengaluru is simply super. This is in terms of everything. Maybe, the other metropolitan cities score one major point over us, in having the metro or intra-city trains.

Maybe, this is the reason why most want to come and lead the rest of their lives in Bengaluru. That might be the case, but other cities in the state should also be focused, like mentioned in an earlier post.

2011-08-04T16:32:00.002+02:00

I realize that a few of my posts are repeated. The text is different, but the idea is the same. That is lame.

Maybe, this is an indication that i don't have much ideas to write about these days. Sad!

2011-08-01T19:43:00.002+02:00

Today, i noticed a pigeon lying on the road. It appeared to have passed on today. And it looked quite it's actual shape. Except maybe it was flattened to a tiny extent.

I saw a dead rat on the road the other day. And i saw the same today without it having moved an inch. The animal was flattened to the likes of a flat sheet of iron. I guess, hundreds of wheels would have rolled over it. But, the outline was really distinct. Similar to a flower or a leaf that one preserves between the sheets of a book, until it is pressed to paper-thin thickness.

2011-07-26T19:16:00.004+02:00

I don't understand the perspective in which our clothing is viewed, that of women and men. Traditional attire for women are sarees and salwar kameezes, and it is extremely important for us to wear them often, if not everyday. We are supposed the uphold the land's culture when we do so, we being 'women'. If that's the case, then men get away with wearing trousers and shirts, and that's not traditional, least in India.

Why the bias? Obviously, the woman is supposed to follow and live life according to some set of rules, And men, they have an option to do or not to.

I find walking and working in a saree quite cumbersome, but i do enjoy it at times. There is one instance which really (in my opinion) does not make much sense. During a wedding, the bride is decked in finery and of course in sarees. Women these days, find spending time wrapped in a saree tiring (including me). While a mans steps into the wedding pandal (for want of a better word) in a suit in which they are definitely comfortable.

I don't really understand this. If the idea of upholding one's culture, by way of one's dressing is to be performed by a section of the society, does it mean much?

The perspective matters a lot.

2011-07-25T19:31:00.004+02:00

Most of last week went with my computer not being usable. Now that it is ok, i don't have much time to blog. Nowadays, i draw a blank with blogging. I don't know what to write and how to put my ideas across. That is, if something strikes me.

Maybe, i'm reaching the "I'm not enthusiastic about blogging" stage. I don't know.

2011-07-12T18:58:00.003+02:00

I admit here that i don't know anything of the new-age processing of photos, the softwares used, the (super) kind of cameras available for this purpose.

I was seeing pictures on blogs, a few days ago. The photos had undergone some processing which made them appear like acrylic paintings that I've seen. The usage of bright colors, a surrealistic look and some detailing.

This is my opinion. Somehow i don't like photos treated the way they are. I don't know, but the 'effect' of a photo disappears once this occurs. The naturalistic feel. And it does not look like a photograph again.

2011-07-11T19:13:00.002+02:00

Another season of mangoes has gone by. This is perhaps one fruit which we simply cannot resist. Even when one has a bad stomach and mango is not suggested as part of the diet, a tiny piece of the golden fruit has be eaten. Whatever maybe the consequences! And i know somebody who does not like mangoes at all. I still wonder how and why! How can anybody not fancy them.

Today, i had the last fruit. Hope not, when father visits the market tomorrow hope he brings some more home. They can end the season.

2011-07-07T18:58:00.003+02:00

The main light in the room blinks frequently before it actually brightens the room completely with it's white fluorescent light. The blinking happens irregularly, until maybe if enough voltage runs through the wires the light burns to it's full strength.

When the blinking occurs, the computer also gives a faint 'click' sound. And then, the light is switched off as one begins to think that other electronic devices might get damaged.

2011-07-06T18:54:00.007+02:00

When the season of jack fruits presents itself, with the heady smell of the fruit wafting in the air, i'm reminded of Mysuru. The chips that are available at stores here in Bengaluru are hard and improperly fried.

A friend used to get home-made jack fruit chips for us. And we made it a point to remind him to do so even if he forgot. That's when i actually started enjoying then.
We used to fight for our share, or rather, for more than our share. I can taste them now. Fried to a perfect level, the sweetness of the fruit, the gentle sprinkling of salt and red chilli powder.

Wow!

2011-07-02T19:08:00.005+02:00

The Institute may be small, old and not very popular amongst many in Bengaluru. But this week's exhibition presented by our art class was nice. Some of the paintings that were exhibited were really beautiful. This was my second time there.

I don't know why but i haven't glanced at the photographs captured on that day. They are still in my camera waiting to be used. One very memorable event.

2011-06-30T19:37:00.002+02:00

I have mentioned here that i like Dan Brown's writing. When i sighted The Last Pope by Luís Miguel Rocha, i assumed that it might include symbology and similar material found in The Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons.

I was proved wrong. The Last Pope is not speedy and not nail-biting as i would term the other two. It's just about okay. It's not much to speak of actually. I guess it would not be missed much if one does not read it.

2011-06-28T18:48:00.002+02:00

I hope I'm going through a phase of time which will sound important to me after a couple of years even when I'm not enjoying it one tiny bit. Then, when i think about this time, i would want to assume that it happened because it had to. More significantly, because i had to learn something from i. And when thinking of it, i wouldn't want bitter or disappointing thoughts in my mind. That I feel, would have occurred for my good, for my well-being. Maybe I'd be comforted somehow. I don't know.

I so hope!

2011-06-26T15:00:00.002+02:00

After watching a just-about-okay The Social Network, i wondered if it deserved any credit for having received awards supposedly given to outstanding films. I didn't find it overwhelming, and it's just the story of how a website came into being. It's not worth more than a one-time, or at the most a two-time watch, not more than that.

It's like Chethan Bhagat winning a Sahitya Akademi Award or something like that. Plain mediocre.

2011-06-15T18:51:00.004+02:00

After the hands are rinsed in flowing water, i bring my right hand to my nose. The intoxicating aroma of mangoes refuse to disappear. In between my reading, i stop to smell my hands, to be reminded of the delicious mango that i savoured a couple of hours ago.

And i have friends who refuse to drink water after eating masala dosas, lest the wonderful taste is wiped out. I was surprised to see one doing so, only to find another following the first.

Different people, strange habits.

2011-06-14T18:59:00.003+02:00

Thinking of what to write, i assume that i'd want to write about something pleasant today.

Here is a story.

the afternoon

Two girls, no, three girls were playing with a small red rubber ball. Savithri being the eldest taught Lakshmi, her younger sister and Gowri, her cousin how to catch the orange-sized ball neatly within cupped hands. Dressed in long skirts and blouses made of printed polyester, they appeared typically rural. With their hair oiled and plaited with coloured ribbons, red dots on their forehead, colourful glass bangles on their wrists, they concentrated hard at the game. To the small girls, to catch the ball which was flung at them from a distance was trying. Gowri, being the youngest found the task of throwing the ball in a pre-determined direction utmost difficult. Screwing their eyes into small slits, they carefully followed the parabola that the ball assumed.

The game was being played in a clearing set in the midst of a forest, on one side of a metalled road. Greenery that surrounded the bare space; the latter was hardly distinguishable when looked from afar. A drizzle had set in. Again. Of course, it was the rainy season and nothing but rain could be expected. The rain poured in for long periods of time, continuously without a break. After dark, the raindrops battered on tin roofs supported by mud walls. The constant hammering lulled the children to sleep, a steady one at that. When the sun appeared quite into the horizon, the intensity lessened. A soft thudding noise could be heard then. Sometimes, the sound on the roof indicated the time of the day. Night and day, morning and evening; the rain played along.

It was the weekend. The three had returned from school, hiking on the hillside. Umbrellas half-protected them. They had to ensure that their blue uniforms remained dry. They had only one blouse and one skirt each. If that got wet, drying them was hard; especially in a damp house. Despite the umbrellas, their feet clad in plastic footwear got muddy. Mud, fallen leaves, pebbles flowed around with the water currents and collected in depressions. They would have loved to play. But they had school to attend to, and their mothers had warned them against mud smeared feet and hands. The common cold could attack anybody anytime, and when attacked, it was nasty.

Beams of afternoon sunlight flooded the patch of land. The girls had run out of the house, when the rain let go some half hour back. The surfaces of the pools of water shimmered in the bright sun, as if sheets of silk were spread around them. Silence ruled the atmosphere, only to be pierced by shouts from the girls. ‘Lakshmi, you have to bend low to catch the ball when Gowri throws it at you. She is shorter than you, and she can’t throw it high enough. Here watch me. Now, Gowri, throw the ball at me…. Ah, good girl, can you repeat it for me!’ Savithri appreciated. Gowri picked the ball which was flung to her by Savithri, pushing a loose strand behind her left in the process. It was time for lunch, but their fascination for the ball overcame the faint pangs of hunger.

A voice called out, ‘Savithri, it’s time for lunch, won’t you girls come?’ Jaya, Savithri’s mother shouted from below. She peered in to the clearing above from below, her hand pressed against her forehead, shading her eyes from the sun. She climbed up; the girls could not be seen. “Come to the edge of the clearing, at least I can see you then’, cried out Jaya. She could now see her daughter, and motioned her to come down. Savithri yelled, ‘Amma, we’ll come after some time. We are not hungry yet.’ The ball held the girls’ attention. Savithri could see her mother thread back to their hut, stopping midway to pick something.

Suddenly, she could hear excited talking. On peering around the bend, she could see nothing. She ran a few steps towards the road, to see a group approaching walking towards them. Lakshmi and Gowri ran behind her. They were curious. ‘Where did this babble come from?’ pondered Gowri. Their surroundings were usually quiet. It was the first time for Gowri and Lakshmi, to see people from the plains. On sighting the group which consisted of college-going adults dressed in jeans and shirts, was surprising. They only had heard about these people from their fathers who had traveled far, to the plains. The tales told to them were strange enough. And, now to see such kind before their eyes was a surprise, to say the least.

The group was on a trip to the mountains. The smell of fresh earth bore them well. With a million forms of life abound in the not so pristine forest; they laughed and smiled, a pleasant feeling was welcomed with ease. The river which flowed through the forests was to be reached. They spotted the clearing, and saw the girls staring at them with wide eyes. On walking up to them, one of the girls smiled at the trio. Another put a hand on Gowri, telling her friends, ‘This small girl here is so cute, she looks just like a doll.’

Gowri shrank, ‘Who were these strangers, and why were they speaking to her?’ Savithri pushed Gowri front, ‘Don’t be afraid Gowri, they are kind people. Speak to them nicely….they will not harm you.’ Feeling reassured Gowri felt herself petted by those big girls. She smiled broadly, replying to their questions initially in monosyllables and later in full sentences. ‘It was nice, when others spoke well of you, isn’t it?’ Gowri glowed.

She found one big girl rummaging in her bag trying to find something. A slab of chocolate was thrust into her hand the next minute. Gowri looked at it with wonder. She had never seen a bar of chocolate, that big ever in her life. She refused it, shaking her head vigorously trying to emphasize her refusal. Her mother had often told her, not to accept anything from unknown people. But, the group from the town pressed the sweet into her hand, ‘Take it. See, you can share it with your sisters. Are they your sisters?’ they went on.

Jaya called out again. The new-found excitement had now shadowed their strong desire for food. Savithri realized. ‘Lakshmi, Gowri, let’s go, it’s time for lunch. Amma is waiting for us.’ Gowri smiled in appreciation. She clutched at the chocolate bar so tightly, it started to melt. The big girls waved to her and her sisters, as they proceeded to their destination.

Gowri ran down, picking her way amidst the brambles that covered the path that led to her house. Her mother had to be told about the nice girls from the plain. Behind her followed Savithri and Lakshmi.

P.S: Please don't copy it.

2011-06-10T11:59:00.002+02:00

At times, i like the Google page for the doodles they put. Very creative and colourful, i should say. Since yesterday they have a guitar on their page. it is played as and when the cursor moves on it's strings. Nice!

Do see it if you haven't already. And play it.

2011-06-06T18:50:00.003+02:00

Somehow i like reading travelogues. I've not read lengthy ones. But those that appear in newspapers and magazines, yes i do look at them. I find the activity refreshing.

2011-06-04T16:51:00.004+02:00

Of the few that i've seen, the works of S N Swamy is brilliant. His sketches have been compiled into a collection published by the Lalit Kala Akademi a few decades ago. And i don't know whether the book is still available for sale.

It's a beautiful book, with about twenty sketches of some of the famous monuments and sculptures in India. I tried searching for the same on the internet, but sadly, they are very few references to him (except that he's been awarded the Padma Shri in 1969 on a Government Of India web page). And absolutely nothing of his sketches.

For those who would want to see good art, i think S N Swamy will really impress you.

2011-06-02T15:47:00.002+02:00

The monsoon has set in. The last few weeks wre not exactly hot, since we had pre-monsoon showers.

Now, that it's monsoon, it's back to umbrellas, raincoats, watching the rain fall, hurrying home as the drops begin to descend, drinking hot tea, eating spicy snacks, wringing water out of wet clothes, drying then on a clothesline, playing with water, watching paper boats sail their way along streams, wiping spectacles, notice elders push the young indoors, seeing freshly washed greenery, squeal when strange-looking insects hover around you.

Have a happy monsoon!!

2011-06-01T18:37:00.002+02:00

A new academic year begins. Neighborhood children dressed in uniforms with backpacks walk to their respective schools. Some are accompanied by their parents.

It feels nice to watch this scene.

2011-05-27T17:38:00.002+02:00

It is common to find instant portraits done on the spot at Chitra Santhe, or any art fest. In fact, there was a computerized stall in front of The Bombay Store on M.G. Road. I really don't know how that worked. But, i guess it profited. I don't remember this properly, but they were signed Van Gogh.

I was surprised at this, but then realized that these were quite popular. Van Gogh and this. What comparison!!

2011-05-25T18:47:00.003+02:00

I wonder why people come from different parts of the country to study at Bangalore University. Perhaps the system of education is better here; i really don't agree with this. But, the University is miserable and disgusting. It's extremely saddening to see marks sheets crumpled and thrown around, like they are ordinary sheets of paper.

Anybody reading this who would want to come to Bangalore and study at the University here, please keep this as your last option.

2011-05-24T16:56:00.004+02:00

After hearing positive reviews on Puttakkana Highway, we trooped to the theatre to watch it.

The music is amazing. Hamsalekha has done a really done a good job on that. In fact, i would consider it the best aspect of the movie. The protagonist, Puttakka played by Shruthi lacks expressions. In fact Veena Sundar who plays her friend in the film expresses herself quite well, even though her character is a small one.

After having seen Do Bigha Zameen and this film, i so wish that everybody is educated to an extent where they can read, write and know things, lest they be cheated by greedy people. On seeing such films, one feels miserable. They are taken advantage of so easily.

Do see such films, for leading a life in the city is not the end of it all.

2011-05-21T16:37:00.003+02:00

People had told me that Do Bigha Zameen was a trend-setter and was an important landmark in Indian cinema. Not that i'm keen on the topic. Nevertheless, i got an opportunity to watch it and was impressed.

Even if the story line of the film is old (more than fifty years), i guess it hold relevance to this day somewhere in remote parts of the country. But, i hope it isn't quite true as the picture isn't pretty. With an excellent cast, the movie goes beautifully. I especially liked the music.

2011-05-17T18:47:00.002+02:00

We all know how well-known Malgudi Days was, or rather is. I don't think i've watched the entire series, but i would like to. One of the greatest productions of our time. I'm immediately transported to that world on listening to soundtrack which played at the beginning and at the end of each episode. The ta na na na....

I wish that some channels would air it regularly, otherwise a huge population would miss out a legacy. Today's kids would enjoy it the way we did. Running behind Swami, listening to his grandmother's stories, and eating sweetmeats at Jagan's Stall.

2011-05-15T19:12:00.003+02:00

It's been a little over five years since i started blogging here. Whenever i used to see others write that they have been blogging for some years, i used to picture myself in their shoes. Not that it is something very significant, but i created such images in my mind regularly.

When i read the posts that i have done, from the beginning, i'm surprised with the content that i have exhibited. Whatever made me write them, including the comments. Perhaps, a little childish, if i could say. Obviously that was then, and this is now. Five years is some period of time where attitudes change, perspectives change, thoughts are different, their levels are different. At least this is what i assume it to be. And, now, I know that i simply can't write in the same fashion that i used to.

I really hope that my recent posts don't sound preachy. The forthcoming ones too. And hope you stick around here for some more time.

2011-05-13T18:49:00.003+02:00

I was appalled when a small girl in my class was telling a fellow-mate that people from a particular community are liers and they should not be trusted.

How on earth do kids pick up such nonsense?! God save us!

2011-05-11T18:42:00.003+02:00

Sam's Story by Elmo Jayawardena is a simple story set in Srilanka, when the northern part of the country was at war.

The story-telling is straight-forward, literally. It made me wonder if certain things could be explained the way it's mentioned in the novel. But, it's just a story, a piece of fiction. Which is told nicely. It's about Sam and how the war affects him.

Another story on war, you might say, but the perspective is different.

2011-05-07T18:10:00.004+02:00

If i have some work around Basavanagudi, i usually schedule it on Tuesdays and Fridays, as i'm there the entire evening. People ask me questions as i carry my black case (where i strap in my paintings) around. Some have been kind enough to offer help to hold it.

A few weeks ago, i was held up at J.C. Road for more than an hour. It had rained heavily, and i was driving back home. The auto-driver whose auto stood next to my vehicle asked whether i carried photos in that case. I told, 'Yes'. He remarked that the photos wouldn't need any wash, the falling rain would do the job easily.

2011-05-05T19:04:00.002+02:00

After having seen and heard all about the US and Osama (and more of which, i guess, we are yet to hear), it wouldn't be long before we see a film on this. This particular real story has all the factors for it to be a film (action-wise). Seriously.

2011-05-04T18:51:00.003+02:00

I understand writing one-liners is not something i would appreciate myself. A few paragraphs should be a minimum, if you ask me. But, at times, i can't think beyond a few lines.

Once, when one understands that life is always not fair (even though one assumes it to be), coming to terms with it requires patience and strength. There are times when one feels miserable, and that's a part of it. We simply have to grit our way through.

PS: I really hope this doesn't sound like a gospel or maybe i'm showing myself sympathy here. Some of my posts do appear so.

2011-05-01T12:14:00.005+02:00

I was looking at a magazine which featured the 12th edition Rolex Laureates. This is the link to the same. Maybe some have already seen it.

I guess, there are many institutions across the world which institute such awards for the betterment of the world, in very general terms. It is nice to know this. I hope you find it interesting.

2011-04-30T19:34:00.003+02:00

A few years ago i had written here that even though i didn't believe in destiny, i was connected to it.

Now, i strongly believe in luck and destiny. Things really happen when luck and destiny favors you. Period.

2011-04-25T18:42:00.003+02:00

I was reading a book the other day which tells the story of two kids. When trying to imagine them, figures of cute children came into my mind. They were fair, plump and dressed in bright colors.

When trying to visualize them, i wonder why i captured charming images. Well, not all of us fall in line with my description. Most of us look ordinary, and i guess we are required to see beauty in being ordinary. With scars on the skin, imperfect teeth, which is I and the rest of us.

2011-04-24T18:32:00.006+02:00

Most of the news channels were, or rather, are running the news of Sai Baba's death every minute. Talking about his life, how he produced 'blessed' ash, gold coins, watches and other paraphernalia out of thin air.

I was surprised to see news channels do this. I mean don't they have some responsibility about airing news with substance. Sai Baba was after all, some 'god-man' who proclaimed himself 'holy', 'announced' his previous and next births, whose techniques of producing things from thin air are practiced by ordinary magicians.

Yes, he has helped people by providing for their needs, by being charitable. Nevertheless about his 'immortality', aren't they misleading the general population?

2011-04-20T18:50:00.005+02:00

Blades of the single brown fan turns in a clockwise manner. Slowly and lazily. Loose thread swings wildly as they pretend to rip themselves off from their point of attachment to a nail. The skin senses coolness and the mind is satisfied for some time. A dark mauve-orange sky looms outside. Flashes of brilliant light strike the atmosphere now and then. Lighting the surroundings for fractions of a second. Strands of flying hair block her vision temporarily.

The night will be cool.

2011-04-17T20:09:00.002+02:00

It's really nice to hear kids speak. Amazing. As i type, my neighbor's grandchild explains something in her sweet, sing-song voice.

2011-04-13T19:14:00.002+02:00

When one likes and appreciates anything, i think it should be appreciated for what it is, it's composition, the like. If somebody likes a particular song, she/he would like it for what it is, not who created it.

It's sad that a person calls, what i term 'a good book', by it's religion just after reading a few pages. I don't know whether he'll really feel nice about it. I doubt.

2011-04-12T18:52:00.003+02:00

I never in my life, had imagined that i'd judge an art event. The past Sunday, i went to PESIT to judge a face-painting event. It was for the first-time and was nice. I had never visited PESIT. But maybe i wanted to see it some day and i liked the way the building was designed.

I still remember the time when it was being built. It was a first-of-it's-kind and something very new to Bengaluru then. No other building came close to it.

2011-04-10T15:25:00.003+02:00

Subarnalata by Ashapurna Debi is violent. If i can say. this is the most violent books on women, that i have read. In terms of the protagonist's (who goes by the name of the novel) fight against traditions and male dominance.

Having read the book, i am still wondering if any woman could be that stubborn, fighting against each and everything. Earlier to reading Subarnalata, i read Gulabhi Talkies by Vaidehi. The latter being a collection of short stories. Vaidehi also speaks about the progress of women in her style. And definitely she would have faced many hurdles too, but her stories aren't rough.

I somehow didn't appreciate Subarnalata very much, maybe she was too desperate to notice any positivity around her. Maybe it's so progessionist (i hope i've used the right word) that i fail to comprehend.

2011-04-07T19:53:00.003+02:00

Every sixth person of Karnataka resides in Bengaluru. And our Chief Minister (if you still hold respect for that title) wants to allot property to the Cricket World Cup winning team including the physiotherapist, the coach and anyone else who is part of it. Why Bengaluru? Like we have somebody from Karnataka in the present team. And we are crammed up, big time, for want of space.

This is probably the week's best joke.

2011-04-05T18:53:00.002+02:00

It's no use comparing times. When one compares today with that which existed a few decades ago in terms of food, prices, culture, lifestyle, education, health care, nothing results from it except for bitterness. Each person thinks her/his times are the best. Maybe, would want to relive it, which is totally impossible.

I've noticed that elders complain of the shortcomings of our 'times' and everything associated with it. But, literally, there's nothing that one can do.

2011-04-04T17:01:00.006+02:00

I was reading the last few chapters of The Kite Runner. Where a person expresses pride over Amir's mission to rescue Sohrab from Afghanistan, and calls him a true Afghani.

The reason behind my mentioning this is, that i think we share beliefs, values. Though the manner of expression might be different, it boils to this. Yes, maybe we differ on various aspects, like a tribe in the hills might allow a man to marry two women or vice versa. But is rooted to simple aspects of life, both good and bad, a few deviations do appear.

Perhaps, if a situation similar to the one in the novel were to appear before us, a person in Amir's shoes would be called a true Kannadiga. Wouldn't it be so?

After all which culture in the world would ask to kill one's sister of brother for fun, or something like that?

2011-03-29T17:43:00.002+02:00

I haven't observed if advertisements outside the cricket season can turn funny and senseless. Maybe some companies do produce such ads. But with the current cricketing season, the soda people have produced some amazingly stupid ads. Seriously, what makes cricket and film stars act in such ads?

Of course, it's money and nothing else. Nothing new.

2011-03-27T15:42:00.004+02:00

I remember having read 'God Sees the Truth, But Waits' by Leo Tolstoy (a good piece of fiction). I don't see the reason why but i'm being reminded of this story quite frequently since the past few days. And i've been wanting to write something on this, but i really couldn't figure out how. Well, here i am.

When i was speaking to a professor of mine last month, i wish i meant every word i spoke. But i was simply putting on a brave front. And i want to so mean it now. I want to sustain periods of dejection and emerge successful. Atleast i can prove myself that i can do it. And i think it's better to forget (i hope it does not sound very grand, you know what i mean) people and not drag unpleasant memories into lengths of time. And let go of it. Maybe by penning my thoughts, i'm able to do so. And start over something new. I think i'll read 'The Alchemist' again. It had impressed me when i first read it

And i know i'm lesser than a minuscule when compared to the entire providence. And i'm amazed and proud of the Japanese as i read and hear stories of their integrity. Wish i glean some of it!!

2011-03-23T17:59:00.003+01:00

Speaking of our use of less gruesome words in our speech instead of actual ones, do we shy away from the harsh reality that exists everywhere around us? Maybe our use of such words does not increase the pain of having lost somebody close (I'm using an expression here. I've read about death is this fashion, so perhaps these words enter my mind immediately) to an already grieving family, if not alleviate, at the least.

Dying and death are unpleasant. Totally. Nevertheless, that's a part of us. And a harsh one. We simply are weak.

2011-03-22T16:15:00.004+01:00

It must be about two years or so since A passed away (i'm not sure). He was a young man, we were shocked to hear the news. And disturbed, especially mother and father. A twenty-something boy meets with a freak accident and dies there. I guess I'll never forget that day. A van brought him to his house, on the bier, and the family wailing on sighting this. Gruesome.

I had never known that deaths could effect even a third person. Grandmother had died a little before that time, but we were expecting it. But, suddenly, when a neighbourhood boy tells you that a young person in his prime whom you've seen for some time is no more, you really feel helpless. Those scenes play in front of my eyes now and then. His family shifted their house of residence, but that changes little, doesn't it?

That same night, i contacted two friends. I was crazy then, but, i so wanted them to be safe from accidents from then on. One was hurt badly on the road once. I was scared for him and i felt better after speaking to him. When i mailed the other, he was amused at my act. Guess he never understood my fears.

One moment, and everything changes. If only A had been careful that day.

2011-03-20T13:17:00.002+01:00

My parents are sitting before the T.V. and watching the India versus West Indies match. Father has the timetable of all the matches scheduled for the World Cup and lists the positions of teams in their respective pools after each game. I find this amusing. I know that he isn't alone in doing this. Thousands of cricket-crazy fans do this every day.

All this and everything else in the name of cricket. Seriously, does cricket deserve all this hullabaloo?

2011-03-16T17:03:00.003+01:00

Standing next to an air conditioned vehicle on the road can be quite uncomfortable. The heat that emanates from the four wheeler (usually) on summer evenings is not really pleasant. Especially, a Volvo bus which dissipates much heat.

I'm not comfortable sitting in a car with the windows rolled up. The stale air inside suffocates. I'd rather have the windows down with fresh air coming in.

2011-03-14T17:15:00.003+01:00

If Aishwarya Rai Bachchan spoke 'chaste' Kannada (as mentioned in The TImes of India) during the inauguration of Vishwa Kannada Sammalena 2011, then i should be somebody who is known for my superlative Kannada speaking abilities including my diction and vocabulary. And my friends and family know me as a person who struggles to express herself in pure Kannada, and who gets words wrong frequently.

By the way, what was she doing there? A superstar, looking glamorous who has nothing related to Kannada. Period. I was surprised when i read in the newspaper that she was to be there. Seriously, we've got better people. And i wonder how she agreed to be part of the Sammalena?

God save us!

2011-03-10T18:07:00.004+01:00

When mother was away, father and i used to eat out every Tuesdays and Fridays, after art class. I would be tired at the end of the day. Having to cook, eat, clean after about eight in the night was not very pleasing. And i had to prepare food for the next day. I so wish we had bought our refrigerator then, my job would have been simpler.

So, Tuesdays was doses at Vidhyarthi Bhavan, and Fridays used to be Kamat at Minerva Circle or at times, Jayanagar. And our stomachs remained stable even after all that eating out (i had doubts on that). That was our routine, and after some time, i didn't favour the doses at Vidhyarthi Bhavan much. The chutney that they serve, i don't fancy it.

2011-03-09T17:16:00.004+01:00

Speaking of the fibreglass(?) helmets (i don't know the material that is used to make these) covering the top of the skull with a strap dangling down (which are not strapped many times), do they serve the purpose of protecting the head? When the straps are not clipped together (perhaps, even when they are in place), there is every chance that the helmet could slip off with a strong jerk of the body? These helmets seem fragile to me.

Seriously, people should use the ones which covers the entire head, with a visor in front. Atleast the head is protected to quite some extent by these.

2011-03-06T13:15:00.006+01:00

I have not lived in a rural setting for more than a couple of days. However my friends during my M.Sc. days in Mysore tried educating me on the ways of peasants and how village life is. This apart, i've been repeatedly told that people from villages migrate to towns and cities in search of money and bread. And labourers are hard to come by these days.

If this is the case, whatever will happen to our agricultural practices. Seriously, if everybody comes to universities, gain degrees and get 'educated' in a sense of the word, who will farm our lands, and do everything else connected to it?

If i'm not wrong, most of our small-scale and cottage industries are also suffering due to this trend (very sad, significant traditions are also lost this way). No wonder, the prices of Ikat sarees have almost doubled in a span of three/four years.

2011-03-05T17:20:00.004+01:00

Of what i see and what i face now, i've come to conclude that adolescence is quite a difficult period in one's life. You don't know what to do exactly, and you are anxious how things may come about, all the while hoping that your dreams come true to some extent at least. At the end of which you'd have lost that hope and wish for any good sign fervently.

You are always thinking of a kinda brighter tomorrow, which is totally invisible. And you think of 'life' so as to say and how its treating you and all that. Maybe turn a little philosophical if that could bring some solace (i'm not sure).

2011-03-04T17:27:00.002+01:00

The sun shone extra brightly today. Everything around me looked white. Seriously. As i looked at the building behind my house painted in a light shade of pink, the sunlight that fell on it made the pink look white. Almost.

Yes, the summer has already started. If i remember correctly it was sunny even during the start of February. Guess the temperatures have reached the thirties already. April and May, here we come!

2011-02-28T15:55:00.002+01:00

The autowallahs in Bengalooru have changed. Quite drastically. They have the lost the appreciable touch of being friendly to commuters. Quite like the scene in Mysuru or Chennai.

Before i went to Mysuru i used to praise our autodrivers. They really never demanded extra unless it was after ten in the night and they never denied a commuter his journey to a particular place. It's the opposite these days. Not a nice feature, this. Guess this is part of urbanisation, and we'll have to simply accept it.

2011-02-27T15:28:00.003+01:00

Records are created in every person's life everyday. Well, almost. Records of everyday instances that happen once in a while are less significant. Like i'm wearing a pink t-shirt even when i don't fancy the colour because i term it 'girlish'. Or those which happen rarely and hence i attach more importance to them. Considering this, some everyday incidents also appear to be quite significant.

The past records are remembered and cherished by us throughout our lifetimes. We go on to break old records and create new ones. In addition, the significant values that we add to each record should be done with care.