Iaf gone gooofy

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For the first time in my life "I" am on summer vacation. Its not like the school is closed for summer so I get summer vacation. No siree, I decided this time and took off for 3 months. Yes, go ahead and turn purple because its not going to affect pink and yellow me! Yay! 3 months of luxurious lazy vacation. No people, I am not sitting sweating it out under a noisy fan in a suburb of Bangalore. I am sitting sweating it out without a noisy fan in a suburb of New Jersey.
In the land of outsourced opportunities lies a quiet little suburb teeming with Indians.
Where the senior citizens walk and the junior citizens squeal and anyone in between works.
Except me! Ofcourse! I am on vacation. And not only out of office but out of the country too!
I came here with a glorious vision. I would write a lot of blogs and become famous in bloggery. But as weather would have it I can only sit on the settee and want to sleep. The days slip by too fast. It doesnt leave me enough time to write!
As soon as I can collect my wits and wisdom teeth I will get back to posting some sensible (really?) ones. Ciao.

Faith - my spirituality

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I am not one of the greatest devotees of Sai Baba but he is my greatest God along with Ganesha.
Today I got a calling to visit Them and off I went to the temple complex in Domlur. I reached there only by 12:30 in the afternoon and the sanctum sanctorum doors were just about being shut. I could just manage a fleeting glimpse of the main God Shani before the doors were shut leaving me very disappointed and seeking just one full glimpse of the Lord. As I stood in such a state a priest emerged through the door and I requested him to open the door just a crack so that I can get a quick glimpse of the Lord. But that man looked through me as if I was thin air and kept walking on. I was so furious that I would probably have hit him on his head and told him a word or two about being decently behaved. How can a priest who is considered next only to God in our temples be so insolent? How can he not see the desperation in my eyes? Forget that, how can he not even acknowledge that a living breathing person is talking to him? Such were the angry questions running through my head. As I walked around the temple performing my Pradakshina (circumambulation around the Lord) I saw him being equally rude to an old lady. If looks could hurt my scorching gaze would surely have left him with a headache. I finished my prayers and left the temple in a big huff after saying sorry to the God for not being able to see him. I then walked to the nearby Sai Baba temple. I reached the temple and as I was leaving my footwear outside the temple I felt this impulse to talk to the priest there and get my mind cleared of this anger. But my innate shyness took over and when I entered I dint say a word to him. I silently started praying with my eyes closed. As I finished asking Sai Baba what I had come for (yes there is always something to ask isn’t it?) I heard a small bell ringing and upon opening my eyes I saw the priest doing an Arathi to the God. I felt joyous. Then the priest gave me the Aarthi and the Theertha and the Prasad. As he handed out the Prasad to me he stuck up a conversation with me. I felt very strange indeed that he chose to talk to me. The more he talked to me the calmer I felt. My anger just dissolved. I realized that the priest in the other temple was only doing his job and I was the one at fault for arriving late. I was just trying to find a scape goat to direct the anger I had for myself. I took leave of this wonderful priest and started walking back when I realized that I hadn’t sat down at the Shani temple at all. In our culture it’s a must that one has to sit down in the temple before leaving it. When I went back to the Shani temple and sat down I noticed a few people standing in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum door. I rushed towards it and to my delight the door was open and I could see the God albeit without his Alankaara (dress). The priests had already started changing the dress of the Lord for the evening prayers. Saturday is a very special day for Shani so the temple is thronged by people. I understood why the priest behaved in the way he did. I thanked Him profusely for giving me the right mind to come back once again and obtain his Darshan (glimpse). On my way back home I sat back and thought about al that happened. I can only summarise as below :

Anybody who goes to a Sai Baba temple comes out happy and optimistic. Any premises that he resides in drapes a net of calm. He has the capacity to instill patience and tolerance towards each other. Sai Baba is not about extreme religion or overt devotion. He stands for faith. Faith in one self and faith in the super power to guide us. But moreso faith in one self that we can achieve what we have set out to. People from every religious beliefs are welcomed here.
Some people call him Sathya Sai Baba or Shirdi Sai Baba to distinguish him from the Sai Baba at Puttaparthi. But I only know him as my Sai Baba. He is the one along with Ganesha that have an instant recall for. He has always been there for me.

What not to wear

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It was in a hotel room at a foreign location, one cold lonely night, that I understood that I was a complete fashion failure. Yes it was in the month of March with the snow raging outside that I stumbled upon this fact of life when I watched for the first time What not to wear on a channel called TLC in Montreal to which I was addicted, the channel I meant. I discovered that t-shirts and jeans are worn by dorks and flat heeled footwear are worn by….well not worn in fashionable or half the claim circles. These being the staple of my wardrobe I was left feeling ashamed of myself at the end of every single show.
On this show the victim (who is ‘volunteered’ by friends and foe alike because they suddenly realize that they cannot live/work/remain with a dowdy lady anymore) is given 5000 dollars, loads of abuses at current dress sense and a lot of fashion advice and sent out into the big sinful world of shopping to choose her new wardrobe. And ofcourse one cannot run to the nearest flea market or garage sale to dish out new variety and also save some moolah but have to go to the super duper expensive branded shops of New York and spend the entire five grand. And yes like all fairy tales there is a midnight hour even in this one where the victim participant has to bring every last suitcase load of her clothes and watch with tears at all of that goes directly into a trash bin with the hosts (fashion experts) making fun of each piece of garment.
There were visible transformations on every show. T-shirts and jeans transformed into skirts and frocks and tops. Turtlenecks give way to plunging depths. This was the definition of fashion. The fit became the buzzword.
But, I love this show. For all the embarrassment and humiliation the victim faces she comes out tops at the end with 4 fancy dresses, a new hairdo and a makeover in exchange for 40 dresses and grubby looks that she had painstakingly aquired over the years.
I learnt a lot about what kind of cut in clothes suit what kind of body shapes. The only thing am yet to figure out is what kind of a body shape template I fit into. As soon as I get done with that am on the fashion superhighway folks!
My mom always says “Dressing is an art”. And I have always had an aspiration to become perfect in that art. Enroute to fulfilling this desire I discovered accessories and eye liner. I have become adept at picking the jeans that fit me albeit a little loose to give enough room for errr.. changes. I have also discovered colors. And some that suit me. I experiment with different tailors to bestow on me the chic look. I am always waiting for the moment which would magically transform me into a bright eyed, twinkle toed beautiful girl.
Sadly I have also discovered my slouch which makes any dress that I wear look like a sack hung over me. I have a bad hair day everyday except on holidays and that only because I don’t bother to even comb it with the intention of staying put at home. Most times I am asked to go and take bath ten minutes after a refreshing shower. So much for eyeliners! I even tried bullying T to nominate me for this show while we were in Montreal.
To my brazen dismay I have recently discovered that T has a fantastic sense of what I should wear better than me! And to my disbelief his choice compliments me very well! Oh well, one doesn’t have to be perfect in everything. One should only know whom to approach for help.

P.S:- There is a similar series in UK which gets aired in India also and its pathetic compared to its North American counterpart. The hosts are overtly unabashed and the participants have to get into a mirrored cubicle with their bare minimum and withstand the stares and pointed remarks they get from the fashion experts. Ugh! I cant imagine how they can go through with something thats so disgusting. And if you ask my opinion their fashion tips are ludicrous. They transform the ladies from pants to skirts with the same dowdy look.

What kind of movie is my Life?

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The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times. Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Theaters need a cleanliness drive

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I watched Mungaru Male before all the hype got washed away by our raging monsoon rains in Bangalore. The cinematography in the movie is simply breathtaking. The shots of Jog falls from directly above the plunging fall is stunning. I felt scared when the heroine bends down near the edge of the cliff from where the falls start and the camera pans and cranes down to show the beautiful falls in all its glory from the top!

However this post is not about the movie but about the hall.

After arriving at the theater we waited around for the movie hall to open its door and devour us. In the meanwhile we debated quite a bit whether just a drink would suffice or we needed to buy something to eat as well. All of us were hungry and the prices expensive at the theater food counter. These days we have stopped buying anything at the swank multiplexes because it feels such a shame to pay Rs.40 for a small load of popcorn or Rs.20 for a small glass of coke. We finally decided to share drinks and popcorn and went up to buy it. While we were standing waiting for the guy to serve us, we saw a friendly little neighbourhood insect running happily in between all the goodies on the counter. We were aghast and informed the guy manning the counter. And all he did was give us a shy smile and simply whacked the insect to oblivion. But the incident left its mark on me and I may never buy food at any theater again. Ok thats too much. Let me rephrase it. I might not buy any unpacked food at a theater again. Movie halls should take a cleanliness check. They dont want to entertain us with food poisoning do they?

Just so all Bangaloreans know - this was at PVR Cinemas and it was a cockroach.