A new day has come

A little late to write this post, but better late than never. A new year, new aspirations, promises, dreams and a whole lot of things. Quite an eventful and important year in my life.

A little note on the year which went by. Eventful in its own way. Not a good start to the year,an all time low and gradually things kept getting better and better. Roses to conversions to loved ones getting married... what a year! Lost some , found many ... Helping a friend e a life-changing decision is one of the proudest moments for me of 2008!

Looking forward to the new year. At winter's end.. waiting for flowers to bloom..waiting for the year to fulfill a long cherished dream :)

Nothing makes any sense at all.. lets talk

I was trying to figure out what to do with my time, while I was listening to this song by Cold Play.'Nothing makes any sense at all.. lets talk'. I mean not necessarily if you talk , you can make sense of things. Just started thinking about things. At times, when you are trying to make sense of a situation and you start talking, it doesn't seem to help. You seem to be saying something, the other person interprets it in other way.. which brings me back to the question, does talking help all the time, or do you need silence as well to make sense of things? After all, silence is golden.

Good Old Days

My colleagues and I have recently gotten in the habit of walking for some time after we have our lunch. The conversation varies from office talk, movies, family, upcoming personal events and what not. Today, two out of five in our group couldn't come with us, and that left three of the most talkative people in each other's company. Trust me, we CAN TALK!!!

I don't know who started it, but we started talking about our school days and about the things which seemed so mundane at that point in time. The craze about having fancy pencil box. There was a time, you could only have a plastic pencil box, which was later updated to disney pencil box. I remember I created quite a scene to have a pencil box with white bottom and sky blue lid with pretty Daisy Duck on it. Oh! it was such a pretty little thing! Of course higher classes demanded 'geometry box' and nothing less than 'Nataraj' would do :) . It is a pity, if you have an older sister or brother, you have to make-do with hand-me-downs. Then there were pencils, which had fancy caps on them, I remember one which looked like a hand! How can we forget fountain pens and very strict instructions from parents to not lend it to anyone else, as it would hamper your own handwriting. The list goes on.....

The best part about today's lunch and post-lunch conversation was all of three of us are from different cities, different backgrounds, and have some age difference, yet we all were able to understand each other perfectly. One would start describing the object and the other would end it and then there would be squeals of laughter!

Never thought I would remember those things so fondly. And have company in doing so :) . Good old days ,they sure were, my school days.

Nostalgic

I love listening to songs, come to think of it, I don't think there is anybody who doesn't like to do that hmmmmm ( thinking)...
Moving on, I have this peculiar habit of associating songs with a particular time, place, person,situation. And regardless of when I hear that song, it will always make me nostalgic about the person and the situation. Wonder if its the case with everybody.(Wondering quite a bit over here, actually).
The feeling most of the time is great. "aaoge jab tum o sajna, angna phool khilenge", was listening to this song some time ago which made me write this post. Every single time I listen to this song, it reminds me of the first few months at the beginning of the year. Everything about it, comes rushing back to me. Would not divulge much, just that brings back memories, good,bad both.
It is just one of the numerous songs which are close to my heart and as afore mentioned, makes me nostalgic.

The Glass Palace

I have been reading 'The Glass Palace' by Amitav Ghosh as leisurely as possible. Finished it over the weekend. I think I wanted to do the book some justice, after all Ghosh took five long years to write this book. However, I liked 'Shadow Lines' better. Ghosh pays attention to every single detail to the point of driving the reader crazy with so much information. This novel spreads over to Malaya, Rangoon, Calcutta and over three to four generations, prior to post independent India.

It is a good read, no doubt, but it is difficult to start reading this book and develop interest. But once you start, there is no looking back. There are so many characters, so many stories inter-twined, and so many coincidences ( sounds quite "filmy" to have so many coincidences).At the beginning of the book, Rajkumar, a "kaala" , and Indian in Rangoon seems to be the protagonist, but by the end of the novel, he is removed from his "heroic" characteristics.Leaving me unsure whether he was the "hero" of the novel or not. A young soldier in the Indian Army who almost till the fag end of the novel refuses to accept that he is working for the British and not for India or it's independence, the realisation of which does him no good.

Ghosh has done a brilliant job of describing Rangoon, Malaya , and other smaller and less known places. Gives a detailed picture of teak plantation and the crucial roles elephants play in these plantations. Also, the prominent aspect of the book seems to be independence, to be free, on a national level , or a personal level.

The Glass Palace is the second novel of Ghosh which I have read, and again is a special gift, and hence will be cherished by me forever.

Unaccustomed Earth

Jhumpa Lahiri's latest book, 'Unaccustomed Earth', failed to impress me. I have read her other books. For me, her first book which got her a booker, was the best. 'The interpreter of maladies' added to the list of diaspora literature. Everything was different about the book, the author writing about Indian families migrating to America and coping with it. For the same reasons, her latest book refuses to create an impression. And if you have happened to read, 'The Namesake', the third one seems even more stale.

Short stories about Bengalis in America. One thing common in these stories is that the author has tried to show how second generation Bengalis get married to Americans , and at times face the same kind of problems.There is no freshness in her stories. She seems to say the same thing, just changing her characters' location and names.

On a positive note, this book is a gift and hence holds a special place. I would like to read more of Lahiri's work, but I guess something apart from Bengalis in America.

Rains, rains go away!

It has been raining mercilessly for the past one week in Hyderabad. God seems to be lashing out on this city for some reason. And worst of all, lesser mortals like me, have to come to work on a rainy day. why God, why??? Okay the melodrama aside, I am not a huge fan of rains. I can look at them from my window, nestled under a warm blanket.But to go out in rains. Blimey!!!!!
It's been a while since I have seen sunshine, and I almost feel like Jaadu of Koi Mil Gaya, screaming "dhoop" , "dhoop". :)
Also, writing this post on a Monday afternoon, Imagine!!!
I hate mondays, they symbolize the fact that there has to be an order in life, every day can't be a sunday, and you need to get out of your bed and earn your bread and butter.So, view this, torrential rains, Monday , a sleepy me, 5.30 is faaar faarr away... and no sunshine .
Thinking of a song, and waiting to sing it when the rains leave... "I can see clearly now the rain has gone, I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day!!!"