Facebook-ed

So much has been said and discussed about Facebook. This virtual space has eaten up a considerable amount of our time already. But I (personally) think it's worth it. Not because you make random friends from across the globe. I'am against the concept of making friends through a social medium like FB. It must be cool or social or whatever. But I'am scared. The world is not such a nice sweet place, you know...

They say that FB has ruined the traditional methods of keeping in touch like sending letters, phone calls and stuff. Now don't you think that is something nice, cos' it helps you save quite a good fortune? People just need to write on each other's walls and send msgs for which you would get instant replies! Everyone logs into FB at least once a day. So any emergency, all you need to do is send a msg! Now, these are pretty decent advantages that I can think of.

Also, I prefer categorizing FB as the perfect recreational ground. You talk to your long lost friends (for hours and hours), discuss stuff with your colleagues, and interact with friends easily. Now, let me not get there. It might sound like reading an essay on the good and bad sides of FB. But anyways, too much of anything can cause harm. You need to know where to draw THE LINE.

At the doorstep of a beautiful world of letters

I've been interested in politics. I think maybe from my age of 15??I think. I've wanted to be a politician. Well, precisely a minister. Point to be noted. It's not the digging-into-common-man's-plate factor of politicians that has tantalized me. It's the eagerness to bring about a social cause that has fascinated me. I always knew I wouldn't end up being one. Then I wished to be a lawyer, which again was a strict no-no from amma. She said law is not a profession meant for women. Some lawyer relative of mine said that to her. Anyways, whatever. I'am a writer now. I'am happy. At least I'am doing what I like.

Mechanical writing or robotic jobs are not my cup of tea. I think it applies to every soul. I cannot be a machine 8 hours a day for handsome pay. I better sit home jobless looking at the thronging crowd of my city and vastness of skies from my balcony. Writing helps me unveil a side of me which I love exploring. I experiment. I chuckle. I laugh and tears fills my eyes when I type down what's on my mind. I love life for these small little things god gifted me. I wish my spirits soar high to write till my last breath, so that I can write.

A spill over of my judgement

I write cos'I cant think of a better option

to express my views and thoughts on white

is what I would want to do till I die......

Bonds that last a lifetime

Gone are those days
Days of laughter and innocence
Days when smile meant happiness
Fake was unknown
Everything was genuine
Time changes, so do we
But I wish I could go back to them
Be in their arms and feel their warmth.......
I wish..................

Flashback poetry

Poetry has been dripping through me since a while now. I've been eating, drinking, sleeping poetry since the last couple of days. And yes, Ive been driving poetry lately, i.e. I have been thinking things with rhyming words while driving my scooter and car. Good lord, help me with this last one. Take care of me. Amen.

10 years back
FLASHBACK:---------------------------------------------------------------

I remember how I used to tear pages from my Maths book (arrghh.. spelling M-A-T-H-S makes me wanna bang my head on this wall) to write poems. I tear the page. Write what I thought on a rose in my garden.

WHAT IS ON MY MIND NOW?!!----------------------->

My poems on roses and dogs were much appreciated by my grandmother- the lady who imbibed in me the love for all good things in the world. She taught me to loathe nothing, but love mother earth and her creations. Poetry, according to her was an outpour of beauty in things which YOUR naked eye captures. She asked me to pen down what I saw. Hence, I used English to convey my thoughts. I started loving the language, literature and everything about it. 'Ammu' I miss you. Thanks for teaching me to love life.

My star lit night tales

A moonlit night shares tales
Tales of glory and pride

I look up to see the rains like soldiers of a war
Ready to pour down once the chord strikes
I see the stars bright and strong like the martyr's wife
waiting for her spouse to seal her lips with his

The moon, a solomon
Who knows his kingdom shall hail
Queen of Queens, the breeze boasts
I determine his do's and dont's
Clouds, the Infanta
Who takes pride in daddy's might

A moonlit night shares tales
Tales of glory and pride.
The speck in the wind carries tales
Far from land unknown
The unseen squeaks and squeals of insects uncut
The night holds darkness too beautiful for words

Night I love you, you bring me dreams
Slumber is peace, peace that tranquilizes
Night I love you. Embrace me tight.

Oscar 'WILDE', I love you

How can I not talk about him? His poetry is a pot of creativity bubbling with charisma, his essays talk literature at its best, his short stories takes you to 18th century Britain, a land of kings and queens, a land with prince charming and pretty princess, his novels are realistic. They amuse you.

The first ever piece of Oscar Wilde that I tripped on was his short story 'Birthday of the Infanta', a story I just couldn't take out of my system. It's been more than five years. The prose still haunts me. 'BoTI' was the perfect starter to my diet of Oscar Wilde. The main course consisted of 'The Importance of being Earnest', with his essays and poetry filling my literary palette as the right desert. His quotes are the occasional drinks you would want to sip in between food. They help you ease life. He knew what generations in the years to come would need.

He is a class apart. He carries style, criticizes social norms and societal hypocrites in the right manner. Ireland his land, but world literature lovers cannot deny the fact that we all could relate to what he has penned down. My favorite author. Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde, I wish you were alive. I would've come all the way to your land.

Tagged Valley Girl!!!

While having a conversation with my US returned (not really returned. He came here for a holiday) cousin over dinner, he asked me where I would want to end up in another five years, which holiday spot I aspire to visit, my favorite shopping spots and stuff. Well, if you are wondering whether this guy is a 50 year old HR recruiter, you got that wrong. A stunning 16 year old intelligent boy, he flooded me with queries which I did enjoy answering. Finally he tagged me- Valley girl. Having no clue to what a valley girl meant, I pondered, referred the dictionary, SMS'ed a couple of US accent acquainted friends and stuff. It was Internet to the rescue then.

Valley Girl- a stereotype leveled at a socio-economic and ethnic class of of American women who can be described as colloquial English speaking, materialistic, self- centered, hedonistic, and often sexually promiscuous. (Couresty-Wikipedia) What the......!!!! was my first reaction.

Allright so if you have been wondering why I was called so, even I haven't really figured that out. But the few answers I gave was- I wanna live in a studio apartment in NY, I wanna own Prada, and wear Gucci (I clearly said I wished, and not that I own), and walk around with D&G. So hence I'am a Valley Girl.

Phew. Sigh. The name reminded me of some wanna-be, or stereotyped blonde, or even Paris Hilton. He returned back to the US. I'am not in touch with him (no no, not cos of this. He is not a FB person or neither does he or me take the pain to call).

NY is a dream. A dream (for me) that looks high up the ladder of probabilities. A dream which maybe luck can gift me today or tomorrow. How about owning a studio apartment overlooking the sea in the center, and city lights adding charm towards the right, and an overview of slums to the left. Religion taught me right is god and left is satan. For me, city personifies god. What if this apartment was in the heart of Mumbai? Somewhere near Dadar, or Juhu.

Dreams, dreams, dreams... I say. Such a wonderful thing to do on a lazy jobless weekday afternoon at office.

Dreams hold me tight

For your embrace tickles me

happiness and ecstasy finds their path to my soul

Dreams, you make me think

The dark ones annoy me, the happy ones makes my day

Your visits on the moonlit night taking me to a world I wish to enter

Your visits unexpected, I love you for them

Dreams hold me tight

For you make life a brighter and sweeter place

Picture Courtesy: Some site! I typed Valley girl, and this is what THE INTERNET shows me. So that means THIS IS the Valley girl ;). Burp.

The respect, lost and forgotten

I take pride in my gender. I don't find a reason to crib for being a woman. Thanks to an upbringing, where I was not taught to get a 'just passed' in academics, marry and have kids for the sake of it, be a sex object alone to the opposite sex, wash dishes and clean clothes, and last but not the least, be a loyal partner to man. All these now, seems to be more than difficult to me.

The Malayali attitude to the being with tits would never change. I can write this down on paper. At least not in the next 100 years. No offence to the handful of men who have been holding up their respect, but they are just the minority. Well, belonging to a land of men who are sex- driven 24x7 (even in their sleep), women cannot be fantasized better than that.

The super-woman concept finds no relevance here. Come on people, appreciate and applaud the work our moms have been doing over the years. Hat's off to women who have been juggling office work and household chores perfectly. Women breaking cliches and stereotypes, are still a taboo- a taboo that can label them sluts and bitches. A divorced women is looked down by her own family. Mothers cannot stop secluding their daughters from the four walls of the house from the day she menstruates. You are a big girl now, the world is bad, and mommy wants you safe. You and me have heard this. Oh let me remind you, the situation is a little grave here. Girls, once they are out of their momma's womb, or rather I would call 'the angels paradise', is unsafe here. Keralittes, I say....

People, divorces happen not because two individuals wants to part ways for fun. It happens cos' they are just not able to get well with each other. You might be lucky enough to get a spouse who bears with the brunt of you. Not everyone is fortunate.

So let me not deviate from what I wished to convey. Writers, artists, and experts from umpteen fields have written, spoken, read about the struggle women have been enduring over the years. Well, no one really cares. A male-chauvinist calls this 'the oppressed genre's relentless dreams'. We dream. We dream for a revolution which can repulse men. Feminists do not demand an upper hand, all they demand is equality. Mocking at them, really does not degrade us. Think for a moment. Can anyone be bothered about such lame degrading? With all respect to men who knows how to look up to woman- a day would come when your sex-driven stares and 'lemme take you to bed right now' looks would not be taken seriously. This is no Utopian fantasy. The world is changing, so are WE.

Non Vegetarian is sin

Ehem Ehem.. look who is talking!! :D That was me. The one who said non-veg is sin. I just chewed some fish fry a while back. Guilty-consciousness haunts me. Ask me why!? I'am an animal lover. I cant bear the sight of a creature being hurt or tortured for whatever maybe the purpose. OMG! I'am so contradictory. I still haven't figured out why I cannot quit meat. I somehow manage to stay away from red meat. No beef. Cow is religious. God would get bugged with me if I have beef. When I think of the masala dipped, deep fried chicken, spicy red fish curry, or eggs (cooked in any form is appealing to my taste buds), I find it so hard to resist my guilty pleasures.

I thought. Me alone cannot make any difference to this food chain or whatever. Till the world ends, man is gonna kill and eat his fellow creatures. Maybe he thinks he is way to superior, or maybe this has become an inevitable part of our diet, or maybe those 'poor things' were born to be eaten... Recently, in Youtube, I saw how man killed and ate dogs in some weird part of the globe. GROSSS!!!!!!!!!! The way they killed it, I wished I could go there and spank him for the cruelty. Well, I know that is how chickens and mutton and beef are killed here too. OMG, why am I so contradictory? I'am just not able to take a stand. I want to quit animal meat on my palatte. I want to rely on veggies for my survival. GOD, grant me the will power. I need that desperately.

A lost traveller

I haven't read Henry Valentine Miller. But I've read a few quotes from this great soul. The recent one I glanced through said that "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things", a quote which I would say, is absolutely inspiring for a person who loves places and travelling. I haven't travelled much. I think I'am too young for that. Or is there an age constraint for all this!!?? Well, what I meant is, I still have a lot more time to explore. Waynad tops my to-go places now. Having heard loads about the place, scenic beauty captured at it's best, and the lifestyle people there engage in, Waynad is fascinating. Well, I'am not talking about staying in hotels and getting out at 10 a.m for sight-seeing, and getting bac before dark. I crave for freedom in my travel. Where I get to go alone, know people and mingle with them aimlessly.

So many places to visit and get acquainted with. So many people to know. I hope my life allows me to be a carefree traveller who cannot be bothered about much other things in life. Well, they say marriage, work and kids hold you back from freedom. I beg to break free the shackles of slavery offered through institutions like these. I respect family. I need kids too. I don't think life would be any meaningful otherwise, at least not when I sit and recline on my chair 40 years from now. But I wish I get to see the world a little more before that. Alone.

Ranjini Haridas does the trick again

The 'Jagathy Sreekumar annoying Ranjini Haridas' episode seems to find no decent ending. At least, not in Facebook of random people, or Youtube posts. Today, I was reading the article that Ranjini had written for 'Deccan Chronicle'. She has written about how annoyed she felt when Jagathy mocked her on national television.

I do not intend to take stands here. But I just cannot agree to what Mr. Jagathy did on a podium like Munch Junior Star Singer. He could've easily been a little more decent in the way he criticized. Or why does he have to criticize someone at all! Oh yeah, he was excercising his freedom. In the most lamest manner, I say.

Hat's off to the anchor who claims to be rhino-skinned (she sure is!) for withstanding all that, yet acting cool. Everyone has the freedom for speech n stuff here. I don't think Jagathy needed to put up such lame stunts to hype his status. Not him, of all the people. Neither did Ranjini have to bear the brunt of it, yet remain chilled. It all shows your character. PEACE.

Once upon a time, I was a princess...

.... I wish... I wish I was one of those princess who used to flaunt around her robes and jewels to her peers. I wish I was one of those princess who lived in the 18th century India. I wish I had a huge room to boast of, a room where curtains are pink and purple, carpets are soft with hues of violet to add charm to. I wish I had a prince charming who would ride in his horse every moonlit night to adore my pretty face (I better have one. OK. This is just a story. Stop giggling). I wish I could go to my royal garden which would be decorated with pretty lilies, and purple orchids smiling at me when I enter. The lotus inside the pool welcoming me with a blush. I wish I could play all day with cute dogs (oh oh! I've never seen a princess playing with one. But whatever....), and could change my clothes every day at least thrice (to show-off). I wish I could wear those joothis which are too chic yet ethnic.

There is ho harm in dreaming. I've always wanted to live a life in the olden golden days. The days which you would've been acquainted with in movies like Mughal-e-Azam. Don't you remember how pretty Madhubala danced to the tunes of 'Pyar kiya tho darna kya'!!? I'am sure those days would've been bliss. Except for those wars and occasional fights amongst kingdoms, the world would have been a lovely place to live in. I wish there was a time machine. A machine which made me a Rajput princess of the 18th century.

Why are all the good things bad???

I hate when I'am restricted from having chocolates, ice-creams and nuggets. Solely cos' they can make you fat. My mom raises her brows when I pick up a choc bar or ice cream pack from the shelves of Reliance Fresh of Big Bazar. "You are fat. Your clothes would not fit you very soon, makale. So stop having calories", says my mother. But being one of those disobedient brats who gets things done her way, I make sure that I grab a bar just for the THRILL of disobeying Amma (what a lame daughter!!). But all through my way back from the shop, I'am haunted by nothing but the guilt-consciousness of not obeying mom, and those added CALORIESSS!! freaky, I say. I end up either wasting it, or giving it to someone else.

Guilty pleasures. Well, they are not pleasure-d anymore. They are cursed. Oil makes you fat. Cheese and butter (slurppp!) gives you calories beyond limits. Pastries gives you pimples (well does the fat factor require a special mention?!). And when I plan to switch over to 'veggies' for a change, Potatoes (which I LOVEEEE!) also makes you fat. So summing up all of these, all the good things are bad for your health. But why god!! why do you do this? Why are things made this way? Being a quite chubby lady, with good height (the only thing that I can boast of), I think this is one of the cruel-est things nature could do to us!

It's not that all these really count for me, but I just wish.......... :)

The Anna Hazare rampage

TV channels and dailies have been flooded with Anna Hazare and his Lokpal Bill. Well, I, completely agree to this whole concept of 'Lokpal Bill' which I think is a mere dream of the common man in India, and nothing more than that. I wish our people went on a hunger strike or gathering around in pioneer locales across the nation, for the existing rules and bills to be implemented. Don't you think the Lokpal Bill is just going to be another political gimmick with no credibility attached? I don't support Anna Hazare. But I support anything against corruption. So this whole concept of Lokpal Bill looks nice. But let me remind you, we would be lucky if one case of corruption gets the deserved punishment ever. We live in the most corrupt nation. Let the masses strike for a makeover on the existing system.

Our politicians are too thick-skinned. No Anna Hazare or the millions and crores of people here can do wonders to the system. They call Anna's strike a second freedom struggle. Disgrace. Gandhiji, Mr. Pandit Nehru, Mr. Bose, wish you guys were here to see all these gimmicks, and see how a wanna-be Gandhian has taken a toll over a group of people who are waiting for someone to lead the Q.

Party Hard yo!! \m/

I couldn't think of a better title to give what I have on mind now. (Title courtesy- Rada Harish). Well, getting to the point. What do you think of parties being 'real bad'. Like the ones you see on Tv where guys lure girls, forcefully makes them sloshed, throws them onto the bed and rapes them, and all such related heinous acts? Well, I cannot stop pondering over this. Having attended my share of so called night clubs and pubs, I haven't come across one such act. Honestly, I wanna ask our intelligent film-makers on how they end up providing this cliche for night clubs. Thanks to them, people everywhere (atleast in the locale where I live) have this stereotype about parties and party-goers.

But we know. We know bad people exist. It does not really matter whether you are in a coffee shop in broad day light or club when the sun sets. Act wise. Be with the right people. Draw lines. Stick to your limits. All these help. Why would you think that any random person can cause harm to you? Chuck the movies. Witness real life, or rather realize that real things differ.

In-sync with my KL-7

KL-7 says Kochi. Born and bought up in this splendid city, having seen the grimy and bright sides of this place, having witnessed the uninteresting phrases, I must admit that Kochi has bowled me over. 24 years and still on. I have never felt like leaving this place. I spent two years in Bangalore. I have visited friends and relatives in other parts of the country. Mumbai is charismatic. The only city (if given an option) which I would want to end up, if not Kochi. So if you ask me what exactly lures, plays the gravity to Kochi, I would say- no clue. I agree. This is a not-so-comfortable city to be in. With bumpy roads that can give you backaches each time you pass through, with the typical Malayali crowd who wants to peep into every single business you indulge in, I wish I realized why I love my city so much. Wait. My city. Well, that says it all I guess. Maybe this is just a growing metropolitan, paving its way for cosmopolitan-ism(or whatever), Kochi is unique. Tagged 'Queen of Arabian sea', my city welcomes people from all walks of life. Yea, you got that right. A mini Mumbai it is.

I have been seeing changes (so evident) in Kochi. All is for the well, fingers crossed. With little space that cannot accommodate more than a lakh cars on the roads, with unions and organizations that would go on a strike the next minute you don't nod your heads to them, with a beautiful port that you and me can boast of, with historical embarkments in every nook and corner, Kochi is leaping. For the good. I hope.

A not so happy Independence day

This 15th of August might sound like just another day at home for you and me. Let me salute, hat's off to the thousands (our predecessors) who sacrificed their blood for all that we have been enjoying now. At this juncture, I'am just confused! What exactly does this term 'freedom' stand for? With so much mayhem and chaos around, I really wonder whether we are independent or free? We have so much to thank the Britishers. Naming a few, din't they help re-unite the hundreds and thousands of kingdoms into one nation? They did imbibe (unknowingly of course) the spirit of one-ness amongst us, and a lot more. Well, no history classes now.

Our politicians need to take lessons from them. The only common thing I can think of (British and our current politicians)- digging into the national treasure. Kasab lives a luxurious life, condition of roads are worse than gutters, rapists continue doing IT, murderers walk around free. These are some of the common sights you would see in a independent nation. Common man are helpless spectators. Our money wasted for no good. Our efforts gone down the drains. Democracy unimplemented. The duo, Anna Hazare and Baba Ramdev are not really Gandhian or whatever. Give me the honour to categorize them as mere attention-seekers. Such fake Independence, I say!!

Rainy days cure...

No matter how much you have been cursing rains for their uninvited arrivals, floody nature, dampness or cold, you cannot deny the fact that you love them. "Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky", said Rabindranath Tagore, a poetic pride India can boast of for centuries to come. I admire the poet for his works which have taken Indian Literature to levels extremely high.

Nothing to beat an evening sitting in your balcony sipping a hot cup of coffee, indulging in the beauty, serenity and prettiness in the drops of rain, or rather I prefer calling, 'drops of joy'.

Winter enthralls me. Summer irritates. Spring??? (we don't have one here. Not in Kochi). Monsoon is the hero. Monsoon purifies your surrounding. Monsoon is the season of romance. Monsoon does magic to your mood. Amma's good friend passed away today morning. A great lady indeed, she was of immense moral support to me and mom. There was dampness inside since I heard the news. It rained outside, I feel better now. Didn't I say rain has magical powers to cure.. It's still raining outside..

Live-in relations VS Marriages

I was pondering on the credibility of marriages and loveliness of live-in relationships. Need I say more? My mind has been penned out through this one line. I cant stop, but think of the soreness in twinge presented by THE commitment through marriage. Men are like branches of a tree swaying in the wind. No matter how hard a woman tries to act the 'root' by trying to hold them tight, they love swaying. I'am not against this wonderful (supposedly to some) institution called marriage. It is beautiful. It confers love, postitive-ness, sense of belongingness and more (they say...). All that needs to be asked is- for how long?

I live in a society where men and women are destined to GET MARRIED, bore kids, work 8 hours a day, eat, sleep, retire, and die. I beg to differ. I would want to live in a dreamers paradise where eating and sleeping happens in grandeur and lavishness. Love (or love making or whatever) happens when-you-feel-like, work happens everyday (chuck the time slot), and travelling eats up whole of your time in life. I love travelling. I love interacting, knowing people and cultures. Oh-oh, Iam supposed to talk bout something else.

So well, live-in relations are cool. They dont demand. They respect. They give you space. There is love. All that is literally expected out of marriages, happens in live-in's. Argue, slap, kick. You do that, no divorce petitions (and years of slogging in courts) happens. When commitment is the villain in marriages, acceptance of what you are is the hero in live-in's. I don't believe in complicating life. Live it the way you want to. I'am tired of reading and hearing this from a thousand souls. But at this juncture I cannot think of anything better than 'live your life to the fullest. You have just one to live and love'!

The day that hates BLUE

I hate Monday. You hate it too. I know. I define Monday as getting prepared for the competition or race in life..(or whatever). But I'am glad I work in a place where 'work is considered serious. But you can take your own sweet time to get it done'. My boss has clearly put that into my system- Chill the whole day, but I need to see the stuff before 6 p.m. I think that's a pretty decent way of making your employees not-hate-work but rather imbibe a sense of responsibility into their systems. I admit, it can get boring at times. Monotonous shit??!! No, I'am a writer. I need creativity to embrace my thoughts and originality to pave way for my scribblings. Ask me how much of it is possible, I would say 'clueless' because I'am not much of a writer who loves writing 'events or press meets'. Honestly, I dont think I can let out my creativity there!

Oh no, I was supposed to talk about Monday blues, and here I'am typing away to glory about what I think on work. So its 8.30 a.m past, and I'am supposed to start crawling like a snail, and get myself to work. But I have something to look forward. I love having things to look up to, especially when life is soo BLAAAAHH! 13th of August. I shall see happiness in the air at office. Co-workers thrilled. I love my colleagues. They have the VIBES. They are supposed to, cos' we work with K'VIBE- my heaven. :) :)

freaky shopaholic

And that's me... ! I hate admitting that, but I suck in choosing the best. All my hard-earned money wasted on nothing else but shopping. Phew..I've been hearing mom cribbing and cursing me for spending endlessly on clothes and accessories. I wish I could control them. I just can't. I try, I can't. Clothes (I'am choosy though) with faded colors mesmerize me. I love tones of lightness in my wardrobe. I hate red. It reminds me of (no...no..not blood), but puke. Wondering what a comparison?? Didn't I say initially, I get the weirdest of ideas. Call it, the dusty brain of a wanna-be-intellectual! :D

I spent four solid hours today walking around malls and checking out clothes. It was all about clothes. Clothes are so close to my heart. I went to Oberon (some 10 shops there), Nucleus Mall (arnd 5 I guess), and other small outlets you find here and there in every nook and corner of Kochi. Is it cos' they really don't have the stuff, or is it cos' I'am such a lame demanding soul?

Whatver I never got the kinda clothes I wanted to. So, buh bye.. I'am off to M. G. Road now. Let me loiter around with a specific aim, and i.e. CLOTHES.

Cuzino-graphy!

They have been with me through thick and thin. I owe my 'being social' (fairly reasonable part of it) aspect to my cousins. My sweethearts for life. If you ask me people who would be there (when I need them) till my last breath, I can easily point my fingers to THEM. Having brought up in a joint family yet having gone through all the miseries of a nuclear family, I, for well kno how important it is to have dudes to mingle with. I'am the only child. I don't really remember if I hated it. Not now anyways. I think it's solely cos' I had this lovely pair of cusins to be with. I ponder. I pondered today morning too. What would I have done if not for them around me? Whom would I call for company when I'am desperately in the mood for some window shopping? Who would I call for ice-cream company? You and me know, friends set their boundaries. ALWAYS. (dont raise your brows, I was just being FRANK).

Oscar Wilde is my favorite author. He is a class apart. But I love this quote of Constance Richards that I came across recently on the Internet: Cousins are friends that will love you forever.

P.S: On friendship day, my hugs and kisses to Appu and Dev, two cusins of mine whom I love immensely. Two lazy bums who would never even read this. I swear, if someone lays a finger on you, I shall beat them black and blue.

A Chaappa-kurished lady who loved S n' P

Its too late to comment. But I guezz they say, better late than never! Being an ardent cinema lover, I have been waiting for Chaappa Kurish ever since its teasers and promos have been out. I mus' say that the song 'Theeye Theeye' literally bowled me over! The posters with hues of melancholy and shades of glum-ness (yes, I'am a fan of'em) made me think that the movie would be a unique one portraying real life at its best. I loved the concept. I loved the way the director wanted to put forth sucha 'socially relevant' concept through a movie. I hated the way he implemented it. I cant stop thinking but laugh at a friends comment, "Ivan kanchavadich edutha cinemaya ith"..!

How could he 'just drag' the movie to no boundaries? Malayali audience have come a long way from just being passive spectators to smart criticizers. Film-makers, beware! You cant just throw any 'new-gen labelled' thrash at us, and expect us to clap our hands at it. Having watched the first day matinee show of CK, I was easily the most irritated Kochiite for the day! I literally got a headache having sat through the whole 2 and half odd hours inside four walls of a massive room. I was suffocated. Blaah!

Salt n Pepper amused me. I started having an instant respect for Aashiq Abu after watching his second flick. Don't you think he has come a long way?? He has style. We love style. We accept smartness. He gave us style in elegance. From the script to the plot, cast to the songs, screenplay to posters, everything about S n' P was mind-throttling. Whoaaa!! *clap clap clap*

A book-lovers dilemma!!!

A journalist who hates reading. Weirdness and more weirdness, ain't it? So if you are wondering who the hell this journalist is, "hello, Namaste.. It's me'! A lady who was immensely in love with English literature, abundantly loved reading classics, and someone who was absolutely in love with the whole concept of reading. I was one, long back. I juz dont get when I lost it. I wouldnt mind cursing myself for losing it. How could I? Now, the thought of spending a reasonable amount of time tripping on some good books is far from reality for me. I try, but in vain. I'am a loser, ain't I? I still love visiting the library. The multitude of books makes me jump with joy. But wait a minute! I wont read'em anyway. So why the hell so excited? phew.. I have been asking this to myself for a while. I dont plan to blame the social media whatever, or televisions for that matter. I'am grown up, and I know what I'am doing. I still love' em, but why do I stay away? I'am thinking... still thinking... thinking... for a question so difficult to be answered.

Hit, down, bump, ouch..WTF

I drive. I love my lonely rides in my car late nights (where I manage to sneak out of home telling the lamest of lies). I'am happy I can ride my scooter amidst this chaotic traffic. Traffic in Kochi teaches me how patient a person I'am. Waiting for signals teaches me how well I can 'not-really-care' about stares being thrown at me those 5-7 minutes. The biggest lesson learnt! I can curse and use abusive language (which I invent during my course of travel) from destination 1 to destination 2 everyday. I curse the authorities. I curse our ministers. How lame would they be to eat up our tax money and do nothing about the pathetic condition of our roads? How thick-skinned would they be to withstand the media hungama that happens everyday depicting them as villains? How 'BLESSED' would they be that they are not one bit affected by the curses that thousands of ppl throw at them everyday (I proudly say I'am one amongst the 'cursers'). Such weird souls, I say! Each time I get into a gutter or pothole (eventho I try hard to not jump into one), I wish our ministers for once did what they are supposed to do- SERVE THE GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE!

Karma is a BITCH

I ditched guy 1 for guy 2. Guy 2 ditched me for another girl. Hence, I realized that Karma can easily eat you. Well, does that sound a li'l awkward and funny!!? I was just trying to put forth what happened to me in simple, young SMS language (ouch! i'am not a 50 yr old. Plz dont get that statement wrong). But hey, wait a minute! I think you and I have much decent stories to establish the Karma being a bitch part. Let me not tell you my tales of guys (which is the only thing I can think of now to set the statement right). God exists. I know that. I have experienced him and her (I'am a Hindu, so you know...). I have felt the spiritual presence of positive vibes with me, at times. I love having faith in god. It helps me, so why not. Atheists, get a life. How do you think the universe exists? How does the s***t you do, come back right at you giving a whack on your face? You and I have stories on that... WTF, it does.. freaking, ain't it?? Karma, fetch me for all the good things I do too...

The Besharam-ed gentlemen

A clueless writer. I love reading Shobha De. She awes me. I wish I could talk to her for hours, and hear what she says about sexuality, or rather I would say the perverted stance of Indian men, her take on love in the Gen-Y era, hackers and smackers. Well, and more of them. Oh yeah, when coming to the so called 'sexuality' of Indian men, I must say that I live in a land where you find men masturbating by LOOKING at a one year old girl and rapes two year olds. I live in a land where girls who have not not even attained puberty are pushed into prostitution (plz notice, by her own parents), and sold to more than 200 men for cheap pay. I live in GODS OWN COUNTRY. The tag no more suits us fellow beings. Accept it, we are far away from a 'cultured society'. I'am scared. I think of my kids already (even though I havnt really even thought of marriage). How secured would be our li'l ones here? I kno nothing differs in any part of the world. Living in a land which was once considered BLISS has turned out to be HELL guaranteed with so much daunting instances haunting. Helpless, that is what I'am. That is what you are. 'Besharam morchas' and 'slut walks'???!!! C'mmon girls, that really would not help. You just give the perverts a good reason to look at you and SLURP their ass off. DUH!