tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43892255203499108272024-03-21T13:11:54.857-07:00Fitoor...Because everyone must keep a box of things they don’t understand and can’t throw away - The Sugargun fairy (Kuzhali Manickavel)Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-91510786559058567752012-12-24T18:27:00.003-08:002012-12-24T18:27:55.408-08:00Oh no! Not you again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Chalo people! Gear up for some more nonsense. Me is back after a really long hiatus. I wasn't busy or something haan, just to make it clear. This firewall thingie got installed at work and all my internet dreams got shattered ya. And what the hell? Who blocks blogger but not wordpress? Yahoo answers is blocked but wikipedia works. Total pagalpan, I tell ya. Anyhoo, I managed to get hold of a laptop with a good internet connection and so I am back! Will be posting some awesomely insane stuff very soon. Till then, Toodles, y'all!</div>
Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-83690767326867018442012-10-20T01:02:00.002-07:002012-10-20T01:03:38.726-07:00The not so idiotic things on the idiot box...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Someone asked me to put up a list of things I like to watch on TV. Firstly, I have to admit that as far as the TV is concerned, there is complete despotism at my place. HM is the master of the remote control and I don't see the point in rebelling as I don't really mind watching the same things that he likes to watch. I have heard about epic remote control wars happening at various homes and I don't see the point. Why fight over something that can be watched on YouTube the next day? And why do you HAVE to see something or anything on the TV at all when you have books? Read something, I say. Anyway, all that aside, here is a list of sitcoms and series that I like to watch on the TV or the computer or wherever there is a screen that can transmit stuff.<br />
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1. Modern Family: This has got to be the most hilarious sitcom ever. I guffaw like an idiot when I watch this one. Need I say more? Oh and it won a ton of Emmys this year, so there.</div>
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2. Parks and Recreation: Full of delightful characters and abundant satire about the inner workings of the Local Government. Simply brilliant.</div>
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3. How I met Your Mother: I watch this only because it reminds me of 'Friends' and its kind of funny too. I'll watch anything as long as its funny.</div>
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4. Taarak Mehta Ka Ulta Chashma: For all those who think only English sitcoms can be funny, watch this. </div>
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5. Cheesy, badly dubbed Tamil/Telugu/Kannada/Malayalam movies with the most shocking dance moves and an array of weirdly dressed Actors and Actresses. They have the best Villains.</div>
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6. New Girl: I have a thing for Zooey Deschanel. I adore her.</div>
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7. 2 Broke Girls: Anybody who likes or is a superbly sarcastic person with a caustic sense of humour will love this sitcom. Plus it has Kat Dennings. What's not to like?</div>
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8. The Middle: This sitcom will be loved by young and old alike. It is heart-warming and funny at the right places.</div>
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9. Glee: Only because I love music and drama and this has both with a generous sprinkling of witty humour.</div>
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10. Gossip Girl: It is addictive and it has the best dressed and best looking people as the cast. It is a style and fashion guide in itself. It made me wear a hair band with a bow. Enough said.</div>
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11. Masterchef Australia: IT IS ABOUT FOOD! Do I need more reasons to watch it?</div>
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12: Food safari, Man versus Food, Feast Bazaar, Poh's Kitchen and every other food show ever created. If its about food, I WILL WATCH IT.</div>
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13. Phineas and Ferb, Courage the cowardly dog, Dexter's laboratory etc: Because you are never too old for cartoons.</div>
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14: Keeping up with the Kardashians: I don't know how to explain why I watch it. Maybe give it a go yourself and you'll know why.</div>
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This is quite the comprehensive list, isn't it? I do watch other stuff too. I like random documentaries on Discovery and Animal Planet or Nat Geo. But HM tends to watch all this more than I do. </div>
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So we're done here. Feel free to tell me what you like to watch! Toodles, Y'all!</div>
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Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-65259570156371503412012-10-18T23:54:00.003-07:002012-10-18T23:54:58.060-07:00Me is turning into the first ever non religious saint...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Nirvana is the stage when you learn to block out the noises outside your head to hear the voice inside it. It is simple isn't it?<div>
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Not that I have turned into a big fan of religion, but I think reading the Bhagwad Gita again will be a good idea. When you're born into a specific religion, you sort of have no choice but to get sucked into following it for the first few years of your life. You go with the flow as you really don't get the concept of religion at such a young age. I first read the Gita when I was really young and consumed with the new found knowledge of words. I was a voracious reader and I literally read just about everything in the house. My mom had to hide her 'grown-up' books in a locker. Then there was this day when we ran out of books that could be read by me. My Grandpa was in the midst of some pilgrimage at that time and he found these English versions of the Mahabharat, the Gita, the Ramayan and several other books. He bought all of them for me. I devoured each one in the next few weeks and I was suddenly the kid in the house who had read the Gita, the Ramayan and the Mahabharat. My parents proudly asked me about obscure mythological characters at family functions and I was ready with a bio-data on each one of them. Sample this:</div>
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Mom: Beta, who was Meghnaad?</div>
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Me: Meghnaad was the son of Raavan and Mandodari. There was a loud flash of lightning when he was born and so they called him 'Meghnaad' or the roar of the clouds. He defeated Indra in battle and was called Indrajit as well. He was killed by Laxman.</div>
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Needless to say, this was very good entertainment for everyone. Cousins grew jealous of me and cursed me when their parents pushed them into reading religious scriptures. Grown ups were ashamed at the lack of their own knowledge. I was asked about countless deities and asuras and the stories behind them. At school, while kids recited Aesop's fables in class. I shocked them all with stories of Poothana who tried to kill Krishna with the poisoned milk in her breast. I regaled them with Soorpanakha's tale which ultimately lead to the kidnapping of Sita. I knew everything. What I didn't know is why knowing all this was important. I don't think I really learnt any major lessons through all that reading. It was all just one big novel for me where gods battled the asuras and won and how good always wins over evil. Later in my life when I saw evil winning all the time, I lost interest and faith both. Today I call myself an agnostic bordering on atheism and I don't intend to give religion or god another chance. But I'm just going to read the Gita again. Maybe I missed out on some profound knowledge that is hidden somewhere inside. My grandpa claims that once you truly understand it, it changes your life and you. I don't know. But it won't hurt to try. </div>
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Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-35118658275268739272012-10-16T05:37:00.002-07:002012-10-16T05:37:20.794-07:00Stuff that creeps up on you when you're not looking...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some people just seem to be begging, "Get mad at me! Get mad at me!" and I cannot really give in to such childish demands so I annoy them by not getting mad at them. Then they get mad at me for not getting mad at them. Humans never made sense to me.<br />
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The loss of love can alter people in ways that they alone are aware of. Its like a little secret stowed away in a warm place inside their heart. Such things are truly personal. These are the only things that deserve attention and attachment at the end of the day. You can let everything else go.<br />
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I like being the slightly crazy woman who has bouts of sanity every now and then. Life is fun for me. I sit at my window and think profound things and sometimes, I just look at the sky and draw shapes with the clouds or I look down at the stray dogs milling on the street and ask them what they had for lunch. The answer is always the same, 'Garbage'. Sometimes I make sense and sometimes I don't. Actually most of the times, I don't. What's the point in making sense all the time? This compulsive and continuous need to make sense somehow doesn't make sense to me.<br />
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So I went to the mutton market with HM last Sunday and it was dirty and stinky as usual and as I was picking my way through an assortment of innards, I saw this little white lamb just sitting there in a corner, cowering in fear, the smell of death all around. And then I cried and it was all very embarrassing as I weaved my way out, sniffling and wiping my face with my sleeves. I don't really eat mutton unless I'm force fed by HM so I have an affinity for goats, I guess. They don't qualify as 'food' for me. I then wondered if I'd feel the same way for a baby chick. I love eating chicken by the way. Chicken is 'food' for me and that's why I'm okay with killing chickens but I can't bear to see a lamb being slaughtered. How convenient. I then felt like a hypocrite and it wasn't a very good feeling. Me no likey.<br />
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Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-81974862610648862112012-10-10T00:17:00.003-07:002012-10-10T00:17:22.984-07:00Knick knacks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This day did not start so well. I woke up feeling drunk. Not hung over, mind you, just drunk. Stoned even. I could have easily put in another 4 hours of sleep if I didn't have to wake up and make HM some tea. That's how drunk with sleep I was. I couldn't walk straight and I just didn't want to open my eyes even if it meant banging into furniture and crashing into walls. But I finally did wake up after 5 whole minutes of somnambulism and all was blurry and out of focus like being in a dream. To cut the long story short, its almost noon and I'm still craving the warm confines of my bed. being drunk with sleep is by far the most amazing kind of intoxication. Its way too good for words.<div>
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One of my not so favourite shoes, broke a heel today. The other shoe is just fine and now I'm wondering how bad its going to feel and how unfair it is for me to put it out of business just because its partner lost a heel. I can almost hear it complaining, "But...I didn't even do anything wrong! Why am I getting fired for no fault of mine?" I'm feeling slightly bad. I always feel bad about these pairs where one is useless and the other is just good to go. Sometimes you have to throw out the useless one and since the good one is also rendered useless as it lacks its partner, it has to go too. Not in my world though. I have a lot of shoes, gloves, socks and earrings etc that have long been separated from their dead twin. I have no idea what to do with them but I can't throw them away. I'm weird that way.</div>
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I hate the word 'abyss' for no apparent reason. </div>
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Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-31323369616533643412012-09-19T00:39:00.001-07:002012-09-20T05:00:52.252-07:00Bappa Morya!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Happy wala Ganesh Chaturthi to everyone! I personally connect with bappa. Not because I'm particularly religious or something, but because he is such a happy go lucky kind of fellow, you know. With the pot belly, the elephant head and the tiny mouse and all that, he just seems like he really doesn't care about what people think. He's all quirky and bohemian. That kind of personality really scores points with me. Besides his dad is kinda cool too. My mother is a devotee of Shivji and she always told me these awesome stories about him and I was also named after his wife. Parvati had many names and one of them was Aditi which means 'the mother of the gods'. Parvati was bestowed with this name after she gave birth to Ganeshji. By the way, Ganeshji was apparently created out of the dirt from Parvati's body. They were ascetics, you see. Shivji and Parvati were living in the Himalayas and it is freezing out there, so I can imagine how difficult it must be to bathe. Anyway, she rubbed the dirt out of her body, fashioned it into a little boy and stationed him at the bathroom door to guard it while she took a leisurely 'once a year' kind of bath. Shivji came along and demanded to see his wife and this kid at the door just wouldn't let him in. Shivji was a temperamental person (not exactly a very good thing to be, especially when you're God and all) and he chopped off Ganeshji's head in a fit of rage. Parvati came out after everything (much like the Indian Police) and she was pissed at her husband for destroying her creation. So she threw a major tantrum and Shivji was so overwhelmed, he didn't know what to do. I have no idea who suggested the elephant head to him, but that's what he did. He chopped off an elephant's head and affixed it to Ganeshji's body. major geometrical and scientific doubts over here, but well, the gods can do whatever they want and apparently they are allowed to kill, cut and slaughter at their own free will while we are condemned if we do the same. Anyway, Ganeshji was born and since elephants are inherently intelligent creatures, he was blessed with the same intelligence. He is the god of wisdom and knowledge and is famously known as the 'Vighnaharta' or the one that banishes troubles. I think I've given everyone a pretty good lesson in mythology and now you can all go eat some modaks to celebrate. Me is going to eat some too. Toodles!</div>
Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-87201327509690889632012-09-18T00:33:00.001-07:002012-09-18T00:33:25.974-07:00Blah<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't have much to write these days. But I have to let everyone know this, don't I? Hence this post. How creative am I exactly, huh?</div>
Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-58331250097919704582012-09-14T23:07:00.003-07:002012-09-14T23:07:53.308-07:00I'm bad at making up titles. I really am.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I just want to ask some people upfront, "What is wrong with you?" I don't get it when people behave in the meanest way possible for no apparent reason. Like, did someone just cut out their heart and replace it with, I dunno, a toilet paper roll? I really can't think of anything else. Also, the other day I was just thinking what it would be like if we could round up all the meanies and put them in one half of the world and the sweet, kind and generous people could be put in the other half. Then we could just have two countries. One good and the other bad. It will be an interesting social experiment to see how differently both countries are managed and who does a better job. It will be such an eye opener, I tell you. I'm going to write a letter to the concerned person and suggest this brilliant plan except I don't know who exactly is in charge of this big hot mess we call our world. There really should be one president for the whole world who overlooks the other presidents. We could ask Switzerland to send someone for the post. Hmmm....<br />
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I am living one day at a time. Literally. But isn't everyone doing the same? I mean, everyone lives just one day at a time. That's the only way to live, no?<br />
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I saw GoW II and it was dripping with awesomeness. Anurag Kashyap is brilliant. I want a part III and IV and many more.<br />
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I'd like to be left alone for the rest of my life. Like for real.</div>
Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-12010352017745011992012-09-03T05:33:00.003-07:002012-09-03T05:33:56.081-07:00Little cycle? Why you so expensive?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Oh God! Where the hell have you been? What makes you do this to me? Huh?"<br />
This is exactly what my blog would say to me if it could talk. I totally deserve such backtalk. I just disappear suddenly and leave my blog out there in the world wide web, desperate to get some attention from me. Then one day I show up, write some stuff and flit off again. I'm not a very responsible blogger. But I get away with it since not many people come around here looking for wisdom. So its all fine.<br />
Baaki khabar mein toh, HM and I bought ourselves a bicycle. It was obviously a last minute impulsive buy and it would have never happened if I hadn't come home early last Saturday. But I got back home early because I was bored to death at work and there are only so many sitcoms that I can watch with a poker face. So I came back and saw a rather bored HM sprawled on the sofa. He had been bickering about the lack of exercise in his life and he'd been visiting gyms and boxing clubs to figure out which one he should join. He can't really pick weights and stuff due to various old injuries, so all he can do now is run on the treadmill and use the cycling machine. We were just throwing ideas around when we both decided to get an actual bicycle instead. Now according to my knowledge (limited, ofcourse) a good cycle costs around 4-10k. I had visions of my old BSA cycle as we made our way to the cycle shop. All the good Indian cycles I knew cost below Rs.10,000. Around here, a cycle is what you buy when you can't afford even a second hand moped. So I happily took my debit card along to pay for the new 'two wheeler'.We reached LifeCycle near Swargate and all my dreams of buying a cheap cycle were shattered when I learnt that the cheapest cycle they had there was for Rs.25,000. I literally laughed at the poor salesman. Needless to say, he was not amused and he pointed out a cycle with a Rs. 5,50,000/- price tag on it and shook his head sadly as I frantically gulped down air in a bid to save myself from fainting on the spot. We had come to the wrong place. This air-conditioned, swanky, multi-storeyed cycle showroom did not stock a single Indian brand. I was mortified and I wanted to throw some 'swadeshi' style patriotic slogans around but I didn't. HM immediately started checking out the various firangi cycles and I started doing some math in my head. An hour later, we had burnt a BIG hole in our pockets. Rs. 32,000/- to be precise. HM rode back home proudly on his new spanish Orbea MTB bicycle and I trundled behind on the bike. So now we are the proud owners of the most expensive bicycle in the neighbourhood. People are probably calling us stupid but when I breeze past on our shiny new cycle and play with its 21 odd gears, I swear to god, nothing feels better. </div>
Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-14092656671769545052012-08-15T22:41:00.002-07:002012-08-15T22:41:57.896-07:00Truce! Where the hell is my white flag?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So this 'Whatsapp" things has got me pretty excited for no apparent reason. It's supposedly old news by now but technologically challenged people like me have realised the awesomeness of it very recently. Just last week, to be precise. My younger sister showed me how to use it and I've been jumping around ever since. Then there was this one day when HM told me that all my 'Whatsapping' will lead to a humongous bill. I was scared out of my wits and I deleted my account. That lead to a barrage of questions from my sister. Most, no all of those questions were about my level of intelligence. I didn't feel offended because I really am a dummy when it comes to stuff like this. Talk about generation gap and all. And I was thinking I belonged to THIS generation. Doh!<br />
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Bang bang a bangity bang a bang bang bangity bang. Bang!<br />
I just wanted so say that once.<br />
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I've been having nonsensical nightmares that elude my memory the moment I wake up in the morning. Only the unpleasantness remains. Then I spend a considerable amount of time trying to remember what the nightmare was. I don't and then I get confused and totter around the house like an idiot. Poor HM has to put up with a delusional wife every morning and I feel sorry for him.<br />
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If I don't quit my job soon, I'll turn into a rather morose person and I'm really not ready for such a drastic change in personality. I have to start on something creative and fun and I gotta do it pronto (Runs around in circles)<br />
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Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-58094722538065419692012-08-06T03:21:00.000-07:002012-08-06T03:21:49.398-07:00dandelions reminds me of dandruff...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
'Long time, no see' is probably the most grammatically incorrect sentence there is. I have absolutely no idea why people use it all the time. Anyway, I'm back after a really long time and in case you're wondering what I was up to, the answer is 'nothing'. I was just doing what I usually do. Wasting time, going to work and wasting some more time, coming back home and cooking stuff. Nothing very interesting. Also, in a fit of exasperation I gave away my pug Z to this guy who really wanted her badly. Z was hyperactive and super cute but I had to keep her locked up because she wouldn't let H and P sit peacefully even for a minute. She was biting H all over and annoying P by chasing her all over the place. It was good fun to watch but it isn't very amusing when you're trying to cook and this little googly eyed puppy is just sprinting around your legs and tugging on the ends of your nightgown. I love Z but for her own good, I had to let her go. Her 'adoptive parent' has just informed us that she's doing pretty well and he managed to get her to poop outside. Quite an accomplishment, I must say. I could never make her do that. Z is supposedly happy at her new home and while she might have forgotten me already, I am beginning to miss her terribly now. Aww...<br />
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I spent quite some time thinking about the repercussions of my sudden and untimely death, if it were to happen. I'm morbid, I thought I told you.<br />
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HM is getting lazier by the day. I thought I was lazy, but when compared to him, I'll probably qualify as a very hard working individual. Ironically, my MIL is exactly opposite to both of us. She works all day long and she is quite old, okay. We both should be ashamed, but we're evidently not. She is what I'd call a 'workaholic'. She just keeps at it all day long and sometimes, she works late into the night, rolling laddoos, frying karanjis, marinating chicken. She just conjures up new tasks when she finishes the ones at hand. I cannot do that ever. I just wait to finish everything so I can sit back and do nothing. I love doing nothing. I really do.<br />
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I am losing a little bit of patience every day. I don't know what I will do when I finally have none left.<br />
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'The Dark Knight Rises' is epic. I was touched and inspired by the film. Every character is portrayed as a hero/achiever and that is a wonderful thing to do. The best part is Bruce Wayne learning life lessons in the underground jail/well and finally making his escape. I had tears in my eyes. What a film.<br />
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Its raining outside. I feel like there are clouds inside my head. The lazy ones, which just drizzle half heartedly all day and make everything wet, but don't soak through anything. I like it when the rain comes down in torrents, pouring angrily. Soaking and washing away just about everything. Lightning usually comes along to make things interesting. I am hoping to spend a monsoon in Cherapunji. Just to see how it feels.<br />
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I'm thinking that people have interpreted intimacy in the worst way possible. I feel that you know a person intimately only when you've seen that person cry, get really furious, throw stuff around, squirm and wince in pain and maybe scream in agony. I could be wrong....<br />
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Oh and before I sign off, let me tell you that there is a very big difference between trips and journeys. Go figure.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-83352751952133171602012-07-25T22:47:00.001-07:002012-07-25T22:47:28.653-07:00I won't because I don't want to!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And that is the reason I'm not posting anymore. I will when I feel like it. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month. Who knows?</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-50243087427711761762012-07-17T00:30:00.000-07:002012-07-17T00:30:11.498-07:00Dutty boy...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Nayi khabar mein toh, I finally got my fringe and I'm already regretting it a little. Not that it doesn't look cute, which it does and its inviting a lot of compliments too. But I sort of miss looking at my forehead everyday, which is kinda weird. It belongs to me and I can look at it any time, but you know how it is...<br />
Also made biryani for the second time and it was better than the first batch! Am I the most awesome cook or what? It was so unexpected, you know. I was making yummy food noises and praising myself with every <span style="background-color: white;">mouthful of the delicious biryani while HM ate his in complete silence. Food does not excite him as much. I took major offence and bugged him to say something nice about my cooking, which he didn't. He had three helpings, so I know he liked it but he just does stuff like this to annoy me. Husbands, I tell ya...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">_________________________________</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">So I was hanging out at the office lobby and one of the receptionists told me that some spineless lowlife in Assam committed rape and then this stupid newsreader gave away the victim's name on national television. This has obviously lead to nationwide uproar and everyone is calling the newsreader an idiot and how she could do this when she herself is a woman and blah blah blah.... This is so typical of us Indians. We completely sidetrack the main issue and we spend a lot of time bickering about irrelevant things, like in this case, the moronic newsreader. Maybe the Teleprompter was at fault, who knows? And besides, is this the problem at hand? Are we equally enraged at the man who committed the crime? Are we discussing on amending the law so that rapists can be punished more severely? Holy cow no! We are instead calling a newsreader stupid. Like, wow. We really are a big bunch of idiots put together, aren't we?</span><br />
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<br /></div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-37681565645139198272012-07-12T03:02:00.001-07:002012-07-12T04:35:01.075-07:00Mushrooms are nothing but stinky little umbrellas for bugs...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've almost finished watching the first season of New Girl and I am slightly obsessed with the bangs that Zooey Deschanel and Hannah Simone are sporting. I want bangs so badly now, its not even funny. For the record, I did have a haircut with bangs some months ago but it all grew back. I have already called my regular hairdresser and badgered him to give me an appointment.ASAP. He now works for some fashion magazines in Mumbai and shuttles between Pune and Mumbai to keep his appointments. I cannot imagine having anyone else cut my hair. He is a L'Oreal Professional and really knows his job. Anyway, I am pretty excited. I must be a very shallow person, you know. Things like a new haircut or a new shade of nailpaint are enough to excite me. Either that or then I am a very naive person. God alone knows.<br />
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Bandra has a Farmers' market on Sundays. Lucky people ya. All we have here is the filthy Shivaji Market with Meat, Chicken, Fish, Vegetables, Fruits, Crockery, Pasta, Herbs and Bangles all thrown in together in a big dirty mess. HM and I visit every Sunday to buy meat for the dogs and vegetables and fruits for us. If you know where to look, you will actually find quite and amazing variety of things that you possibly did not hope to find in a place like this. For example, the fish market has wonderful lobsters and red snappers. Good quality and pretty cheap too. Also, this shop in the vegetable section sells the most amazing asparagus and avocados and do not get me started on the cherry tomatoes and zucchini. They all look so nice and colourful when arranged together. On second thoughts, maybe we don't really need a farmers' market. We're good.</div>
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I am a lazy person. Way too lazy. Which is why I will only write this much today. No more. </div>
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Toodles, Y'all</div>
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</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-82471949111183813112012-07-08T23:59:00.003-07:002012-07-08T23:59:34.043-07:00If you're silly and you know it, just sit there and hum a showtune...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last week, I found this quaint little book store on 2435 East street. It is an awesome place filled with dusty bookshelves and it is very cramped too, but the good kind of cramped. HM and I sort of wandered in and I was instantly reminded of the library at the Bombay High Court. Same dusty old bookshelves and slightly dank odour coupled with the lovely vibe of profound wisdom that only comes from old books. I was instantly mesmerized and felt a lot like I'd fallen down the famous rabbit hole and arrived in wonderland. Very few places make me feel like this. While I twirled around like a drunk idiot, HM bought the latest issue of Harvard Business Review. Surprising, since just about everything in the store was quite old. The payment counter had an old tin box with a handle and the owner was stuffing his money in it. No cash register and all. I was then convinced that the old world charm was just a result of plain languidness on part of the owner. He presumably had a computer in the back because I happened to ask him about Arundhati Roy's books and he conjured up a printed list of her complete works in no time and also declared that he had all of them. Very impressive. I also spotted the latest issues of every fashion magazine on earth and I just wanted to jump around in excitement but I didn't. Some of them were way out of my budget. Anyhoo, if you're in Pune and you like books you should totally visit this place. It looks really unimpressive and plain from the outside but don't be judgemental about it. It has a really good collection and I can't wait to go back and get some more books.<br />
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<br />
In other news, I saw this completely naked man on my way to work. His nudity wasn't the jarring kind and I was more bothered about the fact that he didn't have any clothes on in this bad weather. I was instantly reminded of HM's old clothes and raincoat and how the 'nangu aadmi' could use them. But I don't know if it would be appropriate for a woman to approach a nude stranger with a bundle of old clothes. I mean, in my head it is a pretty okay thing to do if you consider the thought behind it, but as HM would say, "It would be wrong on so many counts". Sometimes I feel like people overthink normal stuff and then everything begins to feel and look wrong. Too much of thinking never did anyone any good. But I suppose now the 'nangu aadmi' will have to roam around like that till I can convince some man to go deliver the old clothes to him. I'm thinking that it will be a difficult task because even that would be 'wrong on so many counts' if you think about it. Pwah!<br />
_____________________________________________<br />
<br />
I tried my hand at making Chicken Biryani and it turned out so good! I marinated the chicken overnight and it made the meat very flavourful. I also fried some onions and chopped up a lot of coriander and mint and put all this on top of the rice when I layered all of it on the chicken. Some of the chicken caught the pan and it didn't burn. Instead, it got this wonderful smoky flavour and that was just too good for words. I am going to make some more biryani very soon. Yum!<br />
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This picture is for all those who like me, love the monsoons but only from the warm confines of their comfortable homes. I have had the very educational experience of walking around in the rain during my stint in Mumbai. My office was at the Bandra Kurla Complex and the Kurla station is synonymous to unspeakable filth during the rains. I have walked around in knee-deep sewage water to get to work on time, dressed in expensive trousers from Globus and a very nice F21 blazer. Good times.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-58322413071216093302012-07-04T00:44:00.002-07:002012-07-04T00:44:39.718-07:00Rudder is Udder with an R.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It is a dull day. There is a general feeling of confusion around and everyone appears to be slightly lost. There is nothing to do and nowhere to go and oddly, this lack of activity is a refreshing change. I can feel a dull, throbbing pain in my head but it isn't bothering me much. I am feeling weird inside. I am trying to think of something that will make me feel better but nothing's coming up. I am just sitting and writing out all this and it is not helping, but it's not making matters worse either. I have to stop.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-81911629143238731362012-07-02T03:47:00.001-07:002012-07-02T04:22:38.962-07:00Oh Womaniya....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I do not understand why people think GoW is a violent film. It is a little graphic with all that blood strewn all over and the slaughter house scenes and stuff but other than that, I don't think it's violent at all. I for once enjoyed the film. I would totally watch it again. Besides, what is the big deal about the film being too long? It's not longer than 'Border' or 'LOC' is it? Didn't think so either.<br />
The film is riveting, has the simplest of plots put forth in the most unique way ever and do not get me started on Manoj Bajpayee. That man be awesome.<br />
Also, this Richa Chadda lady has been on my radar since her meaty little role in Oye Lucky Lucky Oye. She surpasses herself in GoW and plays Nagma with elan. One of the best performances by an actress till date. I say, give her some awards this year!<br />
Best scenes for me would be all the ones where Nagma is swearing at her scumbag of a husband while effortlessly displaying her obvious love for him. The womaniya rocks.<br />
The other brilliant womaniya in the film is Sneha Khanwalkar who provides the pulsating soundtrack for this power packed film. Lets face it, it isn't easy to notice the music in a movie which has so much going on in terms of the plot and innumerable characters. But the music manages to grab you and adds to the rustic charm of the film. All in all, the critic in me is singing praises. Don't miss this one.<br />
<br /></div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-44308057622392885022012-06-30T01:26:00.000-07:002012-06-30T04:11:05.055-07:00This is Garbage. Hi Garbage!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I once called this suicide helpline just to see how they function. I had a truck load of problems to recite and the guy on the other line totally thought I was going to kill myself. He very calmly told me that life is beautiful and I should not even THINK of dying. I asked him how he would feel if I went ahead and killed myself anyway. He then begged me to not do it, asked for my address and offered to send some volunteers over to help me. I was really pleased with him. He seemed like the sort of person who could genuinely help people who were contemplating on making that final journey to hell. Don't raise your eyebrows. The first lesson I learnt about suicide was that people who commit it, get a sure shot ticket to hell. There was just no other place for them. This suicide talk reminds me of this quirky classmate I had during my first year of Grad school. We were all studying Arts and we had Philosophy in our curriculum. Needless to mention, I didn't take it up and went for Political Science instead. But this dude was totally into it. One fine day I trooped into college looking like I'd lost my mind (which happened almost thrice a week) and I was informed solemnly that said dude had killed himself. I did not know how to react. I was also told that he had written a letter saying that nobody was supposed to be blamed and everyone should take this lightly as he was just passing over to the other side to see how it felt. How the hell did he plan to share his findings with us? I remember feeling extremely stupid that day. I kept going back to the day I had last seen him. I tried hard to recall his expressions. Had he already made up his mind by then or was it a last moment decision? I wanted to go back in time, slap some sense into him and take him out for a slushie. I was at a place in my life where a slushie could make me forget my sorrows and move on. Was he at a different place? I don't know. I never will.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-82386865399011959152012-06-27T23:37:00.001-07:002012-06-27T23:37:36.450-07:00'Morbid' could be my middle name...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm not sure people enjoy being told that after everything that they have achieved, they will die a painful death. I was met by blank stares when I expounded this theory at work. I was simply stating the obvious. Doesn't everyone die irrespective of what they have or have not achieved in life? And does anyone take any of those achievements with them? One could have spent half of his life trying to own that 2 BHK house in that posh area of town and then after finally buying it and spending a few years basking in its glory, one will ultimately die and leave the house behind. Mind you, I am not just thinking these things, I am saying it all aloud, in the presence of other people. These people just stared at me like I'd lost my mind or something, till someone piped up and said that achievements don't necessarily mean materialistic ones alone. Said piper wanted to know how can one forget kindness, love and other sappy stuff that people leave behind? That stuff is way more important than a house, a car or a booming business. I looked at said piper with an expression of utmost pity and told him to remember the last act of kindness done unto him. I can talk in biblical language on demand. It is one of my special talents. Anyway, piper couldn't recall anything and I told him that irrespective of whatever sappy crap he was talking about, out of sight is out of mind and there is just no other way to it. People were going to forget him soon enough and get along with their lives and therefore, one should always remember to not stress about losing out on something in life as no one else would get it either. We are all going to die. At this moment, another smart fellow pointed out that we were all going to die this year and we should all quit our jobs and do other interesting stuff while we still had the time. I totally agree.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-8654551479116640972012-06-26T23:13:00.001-07:002012-06-26T23:13:43.123-07:00The GM Diet. Day 2.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a largely unsuccessful attempt on Day 1, I decide to be a little more focussed on Day 2.<br />
Today is a fruits only day. You can eat all the fruits that you want. It isn't really an incentive. One can only eat a couple of fruits in a day. But I have to try.<br />
<br />
HM leaves at his usual time. I've given him a lunch box full of pineapple, sweet limes and some radish. Radish is probably not a fruit. Okay, its definitely not a fruit. But the mangoes I bought turned out to be sour, so I had to give him radish instead.<br />
<br />
I get down to my daily workout (if you can call a couple of push ups and squats a 'workout'). I've learnt some new exercises on this YouTube video. I try them and start sweating and panting. That just means it works! I am quite happy. I do the exercise for 15 minutes.<br />
<br />
Hunger kicks in as usual. 8-9 am is when I feel most hungry. I open the fridge to get some fruits but I spot the dosa batter and leftover prawn curry again. I curse myself for repeating yesterday's pattern but eat the dosa and prawn curry anyway.<br />
<br />
I head to work with 3 cucumbers (not fruits, I know) and 2 sweet limes. I eat the cucumbers around 12:00 pm and send the peon down to get me a chicken burger from Baker's Basket. I stuff my face with it and peace is restored inside.<br />
<br />
I finish work and head home. I pick up a watermelon, some kiwi fruits and pears on the way. At home, HM is sneezing and coughing and dripping phlegm all over the place (I'm exaggerating. I just happen to hate phlegm).<br />
<br />
I am a tad bit worried about HM who is blowing his nose loudly and looking really sick. I head out to buy him some medicines and remember that my doctor had prescribed me some capsules that I never bought. I buy those as well. They turn out be capsules of Omega 3 and Omega 6 fatty acids. I look bewildered. I don't know why she would prescribe me 'fatty' acids. My very limited scientific knowledge does not help. I shrug and come back home with all the medicines.<br />
<br />
HM is looking like a mess. He demands real food. He doesn't want rice or rotis or vegetables. Prawn curry and dosa batter to the rescue. He finishes the prawn curry with the dosas and I can see some colour return to his cheeks. Poor guy. I eat the dosas with raw mango chutney. Dessert is a piece of malai sandwich each.<br />
<br />
We hit the sack and I am now worried about Day 3. HM is mumbling something incoherently. I ask him if he needs anything. He wants to know if we can just postpone this diet till he gets over the cold. I am happy to oblige.<br />
<br />
Thus ends my diet. Kilos lost: None. Kilos gained: None.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-42721847633268583972012-06-26T04:23:00.001-07:002012-06-26T04:23:05.347-07:00The GM diet. Day 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I couldn't go on a diet even if I really wanted to. I love food way too much and when you're blessed with a great metabolism like mine, there's no reason not to. But lately, I've put on a few kilos and old clothes don't fit me. I struggle to button up the jeans that I wore in college and my T-shirts have an unsightly little bulge as they're way too tight to accommodate my ballooning tummy. Still, I can never think of giving up food to lose weight. But HM decided to do the GM diet this week to detox his system and I joined in. Here's an account of Day 1.<br />
<br />
Day 1 is supposed to be a day of fruits and fruits alone. But I forgot the exact diet plan and we did a day of vegetables instead.<br />
<br />
Our day starts with a cup of black lemon grass tea.<br />
<br />
HM leaves around 7:45 with a lunch box full of salad. I made the salad with purple cabbage, corn, yellow bell pepper, cucumber, tomato and some boiled potato. I've given him a separate little box of seasoning, just in case.<br />
<br />
I do some push-ups. 3 to be precise. My stomach then starts growling with hunger and instead of eating the salad, I dive into the fridge, fish out the dosa batter and prawn curry, make myself two dosas and eat them with the prawn curry. There. I've already cheated on my diet before it could begin.<br />
<br />
I feel guilty, pack the salad in a tiffin and head to work. I feel hungry around 1:00 and I devour the salad like a famished person from Somalia. It is simply not enough. I need some carbs like crazy. I send the peon down to the Baker's Basket outlet and he brings me a Devilled Chicken Ciabatta. I eat it and feel better.<br />
<br />
I am feeling stupid because I can't follow a simple diet. I look up on the internet and try to find the number of calories in a Ciabatta. I cannot find a suitable answer so I forget it and carry on with work.<br />
<br />
In the evening, I go back home and try to convince HM to eat some normal food like paranthas and sabji. He stubbornly turns down my suggestion. I feel depressed. I cut some asparagus spears, some zucchini and rub them with oil, garlic paste, salt, chilli flakes and pepper. I grill them on the pan while I make an avocado salad with greens. HM wants mashed potatoes with peas and onions and he wants it to be hot. I do the needful and serve him dinner.<br />
<br />
I feel like an idiot as I dig into all those veggies. I want to hurl my plate at the wall and wail into my pillow. HM eats like a good kid. He doesn't look annoyed like me. We finish our dinner and I'm craving Tandoori Chicken. There is a restaurant upstairs and wonderful smells are wafting through my kitchen window. I want to rip out my hair and scream.<br />
<br />
I open the fridge to get some lemon grass and happen to open the freezer by chance. Okay, not by chance. I am looking for some Ice-cream. I find a tub of Almond ice cream and a brick of butterscotch ice cream that hasn't even been opened yet. I scoop large amounts of both into a big bowl and dig into it. HM eats half of it. Can you blame him? His wife is a glutton.<br />
<br />
We both climb into bed. I am already dreading Day 2. Fruits and only fruits.<br />
<br />
Oh God. This is not happening to me. Help!</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-47804383326804656322012-06-21T22:53:00.000-07:002012-06-21T22:53:17.678-07:00You're mad or what?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"What you doing like a mad person haan? Don't do like this, I'm telling you".<br />
"You don't have other work to do kya? Simply wasting time doing nonsense".<br />
"I will tell your name to my miss".<br />
"Arrey why are you troubling me always? I will beat you okay?"<br />
"Your mother taught you this only na? Stupid".<br />
"Don't come on this side of the bench okay? You are dirty".<br />
"Shhiii! You didn't have a bath na? Yellow yellow dirty fellow".<br />
"What your mother gave you for tiffin? You want to eat my dosa?"<br />
"My father will beat your father na, then you'll understand".<br />
"That miss is always giving remarks. She is mad".<br />
"Why you did not do your maths homework? Now toh you will pakka get punished".<br />
"Chheee! What dirty handkerchief you are using? You will get sick na!"<br />
"You shut up, stupid. No you stupid. Same to you. Mirror. God in middle full stop."<br />
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The above sentences were overheard at a lunch break in school. Kids are awesome.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-44288298659325872592012-06-20T23:50:00.000-07:002012-06-20T23:56:14.410-07:00Ergo, I'm not a horse...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am a fan of 'Hinglish' or whatever they're calling it nowadays. I like talking to people who are experts in the said 'language' if you can call it that. Now for the record, Hindi is my matrubhasha and English is my language of choice, so I prefer to keep them both at their respective places and ensure that I don't mix them up like a poorly made Pinacolada. But people of the Hinglish persuasion beg to differ. They think Hindi and English go together. These are the same people who are most likely to douse their vanilla ice creams with imli ki chutney and exclaim that it is a mind blowing combo. I respect them for being so open to stuff. I like 'open' people, if I dare say so. I am not that open to desecrating the sanctity of two beautiful languages, so I really am in awe of people who are gutsy enough to do it. Sample this conversation:<br />
<br />
Me: Hi ABC! How are you?<br />
<br />
ABC: Bas, totally fine! You tell me, kya haal chaal hai?<br />
<br />
Me: I'm doing good too! How's work?<br />
<br />
ABC: What to say? Chal raha hai somehow. That promotion yaar! I want it so badly ke main kuch bhi karunga. Desperate hun yaar!<br />
<br />
Me: I understand. You need to work harder. Try and get your work noticed.<br />
<br />
ABC: Arrey what you're saying? I've been ghisoing myself daily das das baje tak. Now you tell me, aur kya karun main?<br />
<br />
By this time, the Hinglish is beginning to annoy and amaze me at the same time. This mixing has got to require talent because I cannot do it no matter how hard I try. Too bad.<br />
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<br />
The coffee machine in my office dispenses a laxative that smells and tastes like coffee but is actually a very effective solution for constipation. I am currently trying to do some research and find out how it works, because it works without fail every single time. You drink a cup of it and in fifteen minutes, you'll find yourself on the pot with a magazine in your hand.<br />
I don't know where the 'reading in the loo' habit originated. It must have been a 'Eureka' moment.<br />
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I'm very sure that I only have moments of sanity. I'm also positive that these moments don't last long and I'm thankful that they don't. I'm not very fond of sane people. And it would be a terrible thing to dislike yourself.<br />
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<br /></div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4389225520349910827.post-69064695009500766282012-06-20T22:33:00.000-07:002012-06-20T22:33:03.825-07:00Sheher nahi Shanghai hai...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's a reason Shanghai is different. And the storyline is not that reason. If you really want to watch a movie with riveting political drama as its subject, watch RGV's Sarkar and Sarkar Raj. But all you will feel at the end is the satisfaction of being entertained. Shanghai takes political drama to a new level and this level is not for those who only want to be entertained. Shanghai will make you think and that is exactly where the movie scores points with me. I take films very seriously. Which is why I can never be satisfied with movies like Housefull, Desi Boys or Rowdy Rathore. I need a Parzania or Black Friday to make me happy and Shanghai just got added to that list. The movie has stellar performances by the most unique star cast and each character is built wonderfully. I have always secretly liked Emraan Hashmi even when he was busy snogging random actresses, but now I can openly admit to being a fan. His rendition of Jogi is spot on and does not look like a poor caricature. The character is gullible yet strong and Emraan makes it all the more believable. Abhay Deol is brilliant as IAS officer Krishnan and it is one of his best performances till date. His acting is natural and his character's disarming honesty is a refreshing change from the usual in your face 'deshbhakti' acts that we normally see portrayed on screen. Kalki doesn't look like she has much to do and I've seen her play such kind of angst filled roles earlier. I adored her in Dev D and in the recent ZNMD. It is safe to say that Emraan and Abhay have shadowed her in this one. Prosenjit Chatterjee and Tillotama Shome manage to get noticed inspite of their miniscule parts. Their characters are important and hold the movie together beautifully. Supriya Pathak Kapoor and Farooque Sheikh are a delight to watch and the entire ensemble comes together to give a power packed performance. All in all, Dibakar Banerjee has done a superb job and his attention to detail is praiseworthy. I came out of the theatre feeling elated, satiated and happy. I guess good movies do this to you. Shanghai deserves awards and accolades and I'd definitely buy the DVD and watch the film again and again.</div>Lost and Foundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17621279232732233100noreply@blogger.com0