It has been quite a while since I challenged myself to do something without it being a requirement or necessity. Worse actually because it has been quite a while since I challenged myself to do something I absolutely loved and not feel guilty about it later. So when I heard from  N about the 30 day challenge idea, and read more about it here and here, I was psyched to take something up myself. Of course, being a compulsive to-do list maker, the idea instantly warmed up to me. So here we go -

1. Read everyday: By reading, I most certainly don't mean the newspaper or a reference article for my research. I bought a Kindle to rekindle my love for reading and I've read only three books on it so far. Let's say the whole make-your-own-food-do-laundry-be-a-responsible-person took my life by storm.

2. One tsp of sugar in coffee: Before you snort at this, let me quickly brief you about my love for caffeine. I absolutely must get caffeine into my system before I interact with fellow homo-sapiens. There used to be a time when I completely avoided sugar and took none in my coffee. But somewhere something went wrong and I found myself adding extra sugar in my coffee. I'm thinking this is a good excuse to avoid that extra sugar and calories in my sedentary lifestyle.

3. Recycle: This is something that I already force upon my roommates and I have very strong opinions about. I will not drop my Gatorade bottle in the general trash at the gym and instead carry it back home and throw it in my recycle pile. Definitely doable.

4. Listen to at least one Carnatic song a day: Unlike my parents' one terrabyte carnatic music collection, I have none. There hasn't been a single day in my 12 years of classical music learning phase when my mother did not plead me to practice. Clearly, my voice has lost its ability to do any more riyaz, therefore, to do justice to my 12 years of classical music training, I hope to listen to at least one carnatic song every day. Now's the time to scourge YouTube for videos of December music season concerts. (Recommendations are most welcome)

This whole thing is probably going to be easier said than done. But hey, it could be a start to something much bigger and I'm vouching to remain positive through this entire thing. I'm also going to cover my walls with notes reminding me of my immediate goals. 

Go on, take something up and let me know what your challenges are for the next 30 days.

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Recently, people are asking me what exactly I blog about. This question is easier asked than answered. As I inch towards my 6th blog anniversary, I felt it is important to revisit the purposes of this blog and perhaps even redefine it. I began blogging as an extremely immature and irresponsible teenager. Those of you who have hung around long enough would vouch for the fact that the posts have certainly not gotten any mature or shown any signs of responsible behavior.

So, what started as an experimental tool to vent bottled up thoughts ended up becoming a platform of expressing the deepest emotion and at times even creative outbursts. From cribbing endlessly about my college and its inhabitants to meeting fellow bloggers who are now friends for life. From worrying about pursuing dreams to witnessing them become a reality. I think somewhere amidst all that I am glad that I had this blog to chronicle such phases in life. Reading older posts mostly leaves me snorting at my own misery and cringing at all other times.

It does upset me that I don't have much to say these days. People are noticing that I've mellowed down from the perky teenager that I used to be and transitioned in to a quieter person. (Someone must be glad that happened!) The posts have become sporadic, but I must admit that life's lessons are easier preached than learned. I've somehow adopted this I-don't-care-to-have-an-opinion attitude and I'm hoping this is also a phase that shall pass with time. I'm glad that a few things have happened in life, despite several sacrifices that have been made to cement it. There are bigger mountains ahead to climb and I hope that someday I will write about it and force my grandchildren to comment on those posts.

If I didn't make my point clear, dearest blog, I love you. Thanks for standing by me!

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What is your problem in life? I understand you have been living abroad for two years. But before that you lived in India only no for 22 years? If you cross seven seas and two oceans means you will forget where you came from ah ? This and all is unacceptable I am telling you.

What is this everyday you are tweeting about all these foods with complicated names? You were eating cone ice and Bhel Puri in Gangotri all this time and suddenly you like only Apfelstrudel, Tiramisu and Biscotti  ah ? You knew only Good Day and Milk Bikkis and now you want only Biscotti. Idiots.

And then you put status message saying "Parmesan is so much better than Cheddar in Fettuccine". Have you even tasted anything other than Amul cheese? Just because you want to show off you must not do this. For all that sour sour cheese you are eating, you are going to become one jumbo case. Then you will talk about importance of health. You are all one health sciences student. Chi, shame shame.

It is ok if you left it at eating, but no, you want to bake. You will go buy all cheap items from the baking section at Walmart. Cookie sheet, baking pan, all-purpose flour. Do you even know the difference between Aata and Maida ? "Love the smell of Vanilla extract" it seems. Given a choice, would you have ever eaten Vanilla ice cream in India? All this you will do and the expenses you will put in the shared monthly account with your roommates.

No, wait. I am asking, have you at least boiled water by yourself in India. That is too much - did you even know where the kitchen was in your house? After making a big mess, you will catch one friend who has a DSLR camera and make him take fancy photos, put one watermark also on the picture. This you will put in an album named "Apartment Number Culinary Experiments". So cryptic you think? Stalker will come and catch you. Stupid.

I would stop here, but no, 4 days later you will say "Thayir saadham is the best comfort food ever" , "Grand Sweets, I miss you!" This is what will happen if you keep eating all that Parmesan, Ricotta, Sapotta nonsense. Diarrhea came, no?

Kanna, what I am telling is, you need to have limits. Gone America means no dancing over head. Feet keep on ground, ok? Thalaivar has told! Okbye!

Note: Because despite being peters, all of us are a little local at heart.

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I've been considering getting a tattoo for about 6 months now. Yes, this is about when you will hear my mother yelling things like "Is this why we sent you to America?" "What if you marry into a family that doesn't approve of it" "What will xxx maami and yyy maama say"  and more such things. But in her heart she knows that I wouldn't care for any of it if I set my heart on it. Yet, convincing my mom is of prime importance. *makes milk dripping face*

One Sunday morning, in one of my video chat sessions with my parents, I tried the best argument I could think of at that  moment - my maid! She has her husband's name on her left forearm. I know, Pativrata and all it seems. But hey, it's the first thing that came to my mind since I couldn't cite the example of the friend who got a tattoo. Just for your knowledge, she ended up marrying a tullukapaiyyan and we all know how that conversation would end.

But, if you ask me why I want to get a tattoo done, I might not have a very convincing answer. I find the idea very intriguing and adventurous and hence my inclination towards it. I have often done a lot of things impulsively and regret some later. So, the question of what to ink takes prime importance and hence justifies me taking the time to sleep over the idea. I definitely don't want one of those curly flowers or creepy butterflies. That's so clichéd. There are too many people getting mysterious sounding sanskrit words, dancing ganeshas and oms. Even that much display of religiousness is not going to convince my family. Yup, we're tough nuts to crack. Here's Tambrahmrage about the epic sama veda tattoo! :P 

Anyhow, the whole idea itself isn't something that our traditionalists are open to, but with more TamBrahm households eating pasta and lasagna over poondu rasam and vendekkai curry, tattoo acceptance is not too far away. But sadly, my family does not constitute the wildest bunch of berries and since I've earned that tag for myself - I might as well be a trailblazer in this aspect. I went way ahead of myself and even envisioned myself in a maroon madisaar with a custom made blouse that shows off the tattoo on my back.Of course, the boy would wear his panchakacham and sport a clichéd sun on his well trained arms. Sigh!

*Off to think of excuses to convince the mother.

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Yes, it's that time of the semester when you must say sympathetic things like "This too shall pass" and motivate me to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. Oh and what a dark and long tunnel this has been. No, this doesn't mean I've spotted the light yet. Unless one of you decides to hold a torch or something and guide me out. I'm still groping around in the dark. Spring is absolutely gorgeous. The birds, pink flowers, frequent thunderstorms, the first hint of green. I love it so much that I can't stop tearing up every time I step out. #allergies What would I do without my big bumblebee shades and a big roll of Kleenex that I carry everywhere!

Anyhow, this has clearly been my most challenging and demanding semester ever. Every time I breathe a sigh of relief, something else comes up to take its place. Every weekend is spent bringing things up to speed and I'd rather not talk much about my weekdays. I'm a proactive person and all these constantly changing schedules and deadlines are pushing me to my wits end. My planner has seen so many changes that it actually gave up on me. It is true, grad life really teaches you to handle pressure like nothing else in life. Only maybe next to parenthood - but it's too early to comment on that.

Excessive amounts of caffeine have been consumed over the last few weeks. My blood should be brown by now, I think. I also need to lose this habit of eating ice cream with cookies post 2AM. Oh and caramel pop corn - MUST STOP BUYING THEM AGAIN! Did you know "Naked" makes all these yummy gooey protein shakes with the weirdest of ingredients. They're so expensive, but they are fattening me up with some good stuff. Who said you eat less during summer? I seem to be hungry all the time. Oh wait, summer isn't here until end of June. Weird country, I tell you. 

Wait a minute, I didn't intend to talk about food ! Well, too late! I've clearly lost it or someone has spiked my morning coffee.

Yeah, you may pour sympathies now. OkThanksBye!

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April 2, 2011. A day that I personally will not forget and I join several other Indians in saying this. This is going to be a day I can remember and talk about with passion because I witnessed the making of this history. I really don't remember much about the previous world cups except for the fact that they always happened in between exams and I was never allowed to watch for longer than an hour. But this time, I was 9000 miles away from home sitting amongst half a dozen other Indian cricket fanatics, wearing the nation's tricolor and yelling our throats out and secretly hoping that the apartment management doesn't fine us for making so much noise.

I have never watched a game at the stadium. I have never watched a match with more than 3 people. I do not know the intricacies of the game. I cannot identify a Leg By or explain what a Dot ball is. I definitely cannot quote statistics. But, you cannot question my spirit for the game based on that. I can tell you that my spirit is no way lesser than the spirit with which every other Indian watching the game. I would keep my comments to myself, but I will swear when our wicket falls and cheer my voice hoarse for a four or a six. Heck, cricket is synonymous with patriotism.

I am not superstitious. But, I kept my legs crossed in a certain way because when I tried stretching them, Sachin got out. I did not pee until the drinks break. I shut my eyes and let my heart skip a beat whenever Gambhir swung his bat. I am ashamed to admit that I did not expect him to play that innings and every time he faced Malinga, I kept thinking that would be his final over. I expected too much out of Sachin & Sehwag and didn't have the courage to place my trust in Kohli or Gambhir. Respect to both you boys!

I don't want to get started on MS Dhoni. I will not stop. When he smashed that ball to a final six, I cried. I am not a very sentimental person and don't like to express my emotions much, but MS Dhoni, you made me cry that day and I am sure I will tell my children of your greatness.

But for now, I am going to join the revelry and wear this perpetual grin on my face. 

WORLD CUP CHAMPIONS 2011. Hell to the yeah.

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"Everybody loses weight when they come to America" is the biggest lie I have ever heard. Though, I would give it some partial credit. The whole lifestyle change with much more walking and self-cooking shocks your body initially to drop some baby flesh, but then once you get used to the American lifestyle, oh-baby, you are so dead!

When I came to the United States, I was a pathetic cook. Every graduate student in the US says this at some point in their lives. I certainly wasn't the worst of all, but I did suck terribly at it. I couldn't even make dal without burning it in spite of mom supervising me over Skype. I cooked to survive. But now, I cook to flaunt. A few months ago, I was introduced to the whole concept of baking and ever since my weight loss is going downhill. I now find myself following more food blogs then fitness blogs. Much to a lot of people's annoyance, I watch the Food Network more than I watch Glee or How I Met Your Mother. I have spent way too much money on baking equipment. My cupboard in the kitchen is loaded with all these fancy sounding ingredients that when added in different proportions make these amazing, calorie-rich dishes that have even more exotic names. Every time I turn on the oven or light the stove, I secretly say a prayer to hope that I don't set the house on fire like I did when I baked for the first time.

Other than weekly culinary attempts, academia takes the rest of my time. And if you are a graduate student, you know that this is the time of the semester when all the deadlines come breathing fire down your neck. Projects, Posters, Paper presentations, Classes, Assignments, more projects and lots of caffeine to survive through all of this. I'm not sure if all this knowledge has made me wiser or not, but I can vouch for the fact that I have more caffeine in my system than blood. I am much more forgetful than ever before. I set reminders for myself and then have stickies all around the house to remind me about the reminders. I eat for comfort and then run facing the guilt. This is clearly not working for me.

But on the bright side, I have better things to look forward to in a few weeks. Until then, eat a cookie! :)

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when we settled in our dusty desks, wearing freshly starched uniforms and chalky canvas shoes. The first day of school when we were protective and proud of our fancy stationary and newly covered books. Befriending the watchman to let us in after the first bell. Cycle stand parking issues. Dreading the morning prayer and mumbling through most of it. Swelling with pride and shaking with fear while reading the 'thought for the day' in front of the entire school.

Queuing up at the canteen for an oily samosa and dashing past teachers to get to class when the familiar bell went off. Waiting the entire week for the solitary Games period and getting disappointed when the Math teacher borrows it to complete the syllabus. Group politics. Lotus, Red Rose, Blue Bells & Sunflower. Pestering the games sir every year to switch your group to the same one as your best friend's. Request being denied because that would just cause too much raucous.

Feeling important rehearsing for our menial roles in the school anniversary and sports day. Secretly rejoicing because that only meant not sitting through Organic Chemistry and Calculus. Coming up with creative ideas for charts and campaign slogans for the school elections. Patronizing the cultural secretary to select you for external culturals. Facing the day when you are actually on the other side of the game. English labs, Moral Science classes and the sleep inducing Transcendental Meditation, post lunch.

Slogging through extra classes on Saturdays in uniforms minus the canvas shoes and sometimes replacing the salwar with jeans to look cool. Enrolling in tuitions because your friends went too. Doing tuition homeworks under the desk during English class. Distributing chocolates and wearing "color dress" on your birthday. The joy when you get away wearing nail polish or a colorful hair accessory. Bossing around when you were made the class monitor. Guarding the cupboard key with your life. Changing the date and proverb on the blackboard every day.

Chalk fights, stationary stealers, gang wars and section politics. Fights sans conspiracies. Competitions minus the jealousy. Of bountiful embarrassing moments and countless memories. Some friends changed, some stuck on. The golden days may be gone but the memories will live on forever.

Shri Gurubhyo Namaha!

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Overheard a Mallu girl and a Marathi boy discussing films. Before you start discoursing on how eavesdropping is rude, let me tell you that they were 90 decibels too loud to be ignored. And I don't really force myself to be excluded from a conversation that floats by. That too when the people conversing are from the same country as me. This is patriotism of a totally different kind.
Meet Mallu Girl who desperately needs to realize the existence of moisturizers and lip balms. She wears a leopard print scarf over a frumpy winter coat and carries a fake red Prada bag that has likely been picked up from a thrift market.
The Marathi boy is dressed in a smart Calvin Klien coat and what look like genuine Italian leather shoes. He tries to look all important by unlocking and locking his iPhone every few minutes. You would think he's all posh until you hear his Marathi infused English.
Anyhow, here's a part of the conversation that my attention was limited to.

Mallu Girl: Have you heard of that 127 hours movie?
Marathi Boy: Wow! How many parts is it coming out in?
Mallu Girl: *giggle* No man, the movie is called 127 hours. It is a horror movie.
Marathi Boy: Wow! I love ghost stories.
Mallu Girl: But this is a different kind of horror movie. Not the ghost types. More like a suspense thriller. I heard it's based on a real life story. My friend said it was very disturbing.
Marathi Boy: Oh! You know what, I actually wanted to watch Dhobi Ghat. I used to live in Andheri. Have you heard of that place? I saw a lot of familiar places in the teasers..I used to hang out in all those places... blah.... Juhu... blah...but Thane...blah blah...

And he continued to ramble descriptively and proudly about the chaos in Mumbai shortly after he stereotyped the people by their geographic areas. I don't judge people too quickly, but I couldn't resist forming an opinion on this one. As I got off, I played 'Acid Darbari' on my iPod. Coincidences can be saved for later.

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It was a feeling that was new to him. He was confused by the multiple emotions striking him at once. He saw her first when she crossed the road and winked at him. He was taken aback by her initial audacity! He tried to convince himself that the attraction was not physical, but who was he kidding ! She was a stunner. Even the women couldn't contain themselves from taking another look at her. She was every man's dream. No, he couldn't let that thought put restraints on him. She would be his pride.

Excitement rushed through his veins when he saw her again. He knew he had to make a deal soon. It was the dawn of a Saturday morning. He was feeling rather unlike himself. He got into his car feeling rather stupid and impulsive for what he was about to do. He didn't even look the part that he had rehearsed several times over in his head. He had phrased his words ever so carefully. There could be no room for any further thought. Well of course, his wrinkled white t shirt and grey sweats could be working a precarious truce in his favor. Or, maybe not. When he reached her abode, his head was still inundated with her thoughts and beauty to care for anything else. He saw her again, but this time she was blissfully unaware.

One signature and he knew it would be a commitment for a lifetime. She would be dependent on him. But he swore to bring the skies & earth together for her happiness. He signed. The reality hit him when the sales associate placed the key on his palm.

He drove back home with a smile plastered on his face in his brand new BMW.

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Two feet snow. Sheepskin boots. Scrapes and bruises. Discovering OCD. Drummers with Attitude. Encountering strange creatures. Mice running on arms. Atlantic City. The ARR Jai Ho Concert. Raavanan. Saravana Bhavan. Six Flags and its gravity defying roller coasters. Screaming until I fell sick or threw up. iPhone 4. River-side jogging. Multi-colored popsicles. Ducks & rabbits. Fresh margaritas and lots of it. Struggling to stay on the designated lane in bowling. Fire accidents. NYC. Standing in a three block long line for a free Apple Tshirt. Combating bed bugs. Meeting S & P1 halfway across the world for 2 days. Maoz. Fondues & hot chocolates. Frozen Yogurt. Birthdays at PF Changs. A cathartic trip to remember. Y moving to the same city as me. NYC with S, Y & P2.Wall St. Liberty. WTC. Walking down NYC yet again. New roommates. Crazy girls night outs. Maggi at 3am. Golu. License to drive. Diwali. Potluck. Charades. Mad bachelorette parties. Fancy suede boots. Thanksgiving parades. Holiday parties. A Spanish wish. Beautiful jewelry. Pitzelles. Pink puppies. Baking lessons and experiments. Creepy gingerbread men. Meeting P1 again, this time with D. A disillusioned walk in the stinging cold while P1 mumbles the whole way about chocolates. Last minute uncertainties. A flight back home. Filter coffee and crispy dosas. Kaju katlis and girl bonding.

Looking back, 2010 has been nice to me and I actually found it hard to let go of it. But, there always must be an end for a new beginning. I began 2010 away from my parents and ended it with them. I’m beginning 2011 with hopes of a year that will bring much desired changes in my life.

Happy New Year, everyone! May you all be blessed with six packs this year! :D

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The 20’s is an exciting age to be in. Since my social life has been sadly reduced to Facebook and Twitter updates, I spend enormous amounts of time gawking (read stalking) at friends’ photos on Facebook. The lanky girl with the oiled hair effortlessly works a smart Posh Spice bob and wears designer boots. The pimple-faced, sacred-ash smeared boy sports a curly mane large enough to house half a dozen sparrows. His sacred thread is probably neatly tucked away in his closet. But arguably the best form of entertainment is derived from viewing wedding pictures, especially when you have a roommate to gush and giggle over with.

It has been almost 5 years since there has been a wedding in my family and when there is one coming up, I can only imagine the adrenaline rush that drives my family to the ends of their nerves. And trust me when I say we have short nerves. Weddings in my family have always been about a lot of smoke generation, teary-eyed’ness (partially attributed to the smoke), prostrating, sacred-ash smearing, hand-shaking and feeding the same 600 odd people three times a day for three days. Amidst all this drama, silk-clad aunties tactfully find opportune moments to campaign for their NRI sons at these events.

But looks like a lot has changed on the wedding scene over the years. Ceremonies are no longer the solemn occasions that they used to be. People are trying too hard to add their own personal touch to every little detail and are willing to go to any extent to make the event as ostentatious as possible. The entire event feels less ritualistic and more choreographed. Families are now more open to the concept of Mehndi, Sangeet and Cocktail parties as opposed to making the groom ride in a rickety red convertible car along with half a dozen wailing kids during the Jaanavasam. The kalyana mandapam (Marriage Hall) concept seems to have revolutionized as well. The venues with their flowy fabrics and soft lighting now look like an elaborate set straight out of a Shankar-directed song sequence. Light music during the reception is no longer considered cool. In fact, it represents cheap taste in music. The trend now is to rope in good-looking playback singers who sing contemporary classical songs and on request, their film tracks as well. The more fashionable families do DJ's especially when alcohol shares the space. Events of the latter kind usually culminate in orgies.

The bride and groom wear ethnic designer labels and no longer do the "groom's hand on bride's shoulder while she sits on a chair" pose. They now reflect scenes out of a Yash-Raj movie. DSLR's zoom in on the mangal-sutra (which would be hung next to the sacred thread in the future), intertwined fingers of the newlyweds and the backless blouse of the bride with the cheeky tattoo peeking out. Leaving the hair untied is no longer objected by paatis, but might not go too well if your prospective mother-in-law is decided from the same episode. Navel showing and skimpy blouse donning are still considered a sin. The bride & groom’s coolness quotient is judged by the number of foreigner friends who attend the wedding. The family’s social status is measured by the number of movie stars and the amount of time for which they are in attendance.

Sure, I agree that the Indian wedding scenario has totally been pimped up over the years. There is nothing wrong in going that extra mile to make your day extraordinary. But, when you begin to lose yourself in the process of making others awe and drop their jaws, how do you think it would remain special to you? Somehow, I think I am way too practical to indulge in such an annoying display of pomp. You never know!

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GAP on my hip,
MAC on my lip,

Clinique in my eye,
Versace's scent getting me high.

Sephora in my curl,
Aldo doing the twirl,

Oh dear lord,
When did I become this glamor girl ?

PS: The author does not do poetry, but she believes in boring you with outbursts as such.

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I'm officially done with experiencing the 4 seasons in one year. My summer comes to a close next week and I'm not sure how ready I am to face my new beginnings. I seem to be totally out of the beat after working through the summer. The past 3 months have been a great learning experience and I just wish I could squeeze some more juice out of the lemons that life gave me.

I had wished to do so many things over these 3 months and I did get through most of it. I still suck at cooking though. I should really credit my bad food to my newly acquired sense of appreciation and respect for people who can cook! Now that I've said that, my attempts at baking and producing brownies have been almost successful except for the fact that I might have accidentally set the house on fire. I do not wish to divulge into the facts for the fear of further damaging my already tarnished cooking reputation. But you must know that the brownies did come out really moist, chocolatey and brownie-like.

Other than that P & S came to visit me and I had so much fun catching up with both of them. And the next week is going to be even better for so many different reasons. Now that life is going to throw tomatoes at me, I will make Bloody Mary's out of them for I need that extra kick to get through the next 4 months. I've decided to live it up while it lasts!

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The following post is the result of an uncontrollable burst of nerves which led to being pissed off majorly. The author will however revert to her normal good-naturedness by the end of this post.

The last one year has been the most intriguing period in my life. Being independent, learning to use my freedom appropriately and coexisting with not-so-nice people in peace.
I can now vouch for the fact that Indians are the most unhelpful and unfriendly people in the United States. Now when it is my turn to guide the freshers, the emotions about my past year here are all gushing out of my head.

I've acquainted so many different kinds of people that, I'm starting to doubt if it is the place that makes them change or if it is just my narrowed spectrum of friendship with nice people ? There are a few things that irritate me the most and I'm trying to work my temper around the situation.

Why do people always eye your things when they have stuff of their own ? It's not like I don't like sharing, but the whole idea of jealousy paired with my superstitions of evil eye tagging along makes me very uncomfortable.

Why do people have to prove their superiority over others? You might be better off than me, but why does that have to be a factor in you judging me by things that I like to do ? I am not trying to make you do what I like, I just wish you would keep your "refined" opinions to yourself. If you want to do something your way; I'd only be too happy to step out of your way, because I only hope to never be like you ! I shouldn't even be bothered of what you think of me, but when you try to condescend my actions, I have too much of an ego to lend you a deaf ear and a mute mouth. *Growl

Thrusting your opinion on others: You might have had more experience than me, but that doesn't make me any less knowledgeable than you. And my knowledge is not always a byproduct of my quick googling skills! Why is it so hard for you to accept your ignorance ? And no, I wouldn't stoop to your level to show my superiority over you. Don't even try to thrust your ideas down my back, I'm definitely not going to follow your path. Stop believing that your actions were the best that you have ever encountered. If you continue to believe so, sadly you don't know much and my opinion about you doesn't go any higher.

And I just hate it when you take me for granted. When I try to be nice, it is only because I do not want to be a bitch, like you! And if you must know, I do not think very highly of you either, you are the one who does things only because others have done it as well.

Ultimately it took me a very long time to come to terms with the fact that no matter how well you talk to certain people, they will judge you anyway. The only difference in this with the petty school politics is that, we are meaner, bitchier and love the drama! I did learn that you don't have to always be nice or explain yourself. I stretched my boundaries of tolerance, but now I know where to draw the line.

How you treat me is your karma, how I react to yours is mine. Peace!

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As my dear Somethings & Nothings inches close to its 5th Blogiversary, I have mixed feelings about where I have come since 2005. Yes, do watch out for a sappy post below. Don't tell me I didn't warn you!

Apprehensive as I was about the whole concept of blogging, I only took it as a mere way to vent stuff out of my head that kept spacing out. (Every blogiversary post of mine has this line I think!) I have this ability to think faster than I can speak, so its pretty hard for my mouth(fingers in this case) to keep up with my mind, you see! There's so much that I have experimented here and when I read my first post now, I can almost puke my guts out at what I've written. I'm sure 5 years from now, I'd guffaw and snort at this very post as well. Most of my posts have been majorly spaced out for not knowing what to write but having the urge to keep typing.

I do have to mention that it did prove as a great way to sit longer at the computer while my mom thought I was actually studying. It is another story that when she found out through the sister-in-law about my blogging activities, she resorted to being a passive reader to monitor my activities on the internet. I'm still thinking of a good excuse to keep her away from Facebook.
(Hi maa!)

It was a totally different story with my dad. He continues to boast of how the writing skills have been soaked in the family's blood and have passed on from grandfather to granddaughter (if thatha had been buried, he'd have turned over in his grave and shuddered!). So I was not going to take up a career in writing yet (Mass Communication & Journalism are not considered professional degrees in my household!). You may save your lecture, but that ain't going down our throats, mate. So blogging became an addiction and added a whole new dimension to my personality as I went on to pursue a so-called "professional" degree. But that was only till the social networking fever caught on and I spent lesser time here and more time networking and being cool! But I have to admit, the friends that I have made here are some of the closest I have currently and mean the world to me.

My stint with FindNearYou would have never happened if it weren't for my blog. I have met some of the most helpful and encouraging people here. I'm glad I went for those initial apprehension filled "bajji-blogger-meets". I would have lost my faith in love, if P & H hadn't met through a blog. (Ok, I wouldn't have really lost faith in love, but heck their little love story is so darn romantic!) So even after 40 comment major fanbase days to 4 comment ones - its quite hard not to fall for my queer sense of humor. You think otherwise?

For all those people who claimed to know me all this while and joined blogger recently and have shitloads of followers and exclaim - Since when do you blog?! - take that, I'm your big daddy here! I might not have thought provoking posts on the atrocities of the downtrodden, women's rights and global warming. I certainly didn't try to do any good through my blog or flatter a celebrity by writing their praises, I definitely don't think I have the stuff that would make you want to come back or make "fraanship" with me or even spam me for that sense. And I'm positively not blogging to showcase my writing abilities - I don't consider I have that talent entirely; though my dad would be the person you'd have to disprove. Though, prospective employers may note this point.

Guess that wasn't too sappy afterall, I'll spare you anyways! In the words of one of my feminist friends - "okbye!"

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Major spoilers ahead, please don't read further if you plan to watch the concert in any of the other cities. The author refuses to take blame for spoiling the fun, she merely tried to share the excitement with fellow Rahmaniacs who couldn't be there. Thank you!

ARTISTS:

Vocals: AR Rahman, Hariharan, Benny Dayal, Vijay Prakash, Blaaze, Alphons Joseph, Neeti Muhan, Shweta Pandit, Harshdeep Kaur, Zeenia Roy, Krystal Garib.

Supported by: Takuyo Hirano (Percussions), Keith Peters (Bass), Sanjeev Thomas (Guitar), Naveen (Flute), Aditya Kalyanpur (Tabla).

TrackList:

Enter Malachi from the audience, searching for someone. He runs around for a while and jumps onto the stage and boom - the door as shown on the projector opens.

1) O Saya (Slumdog Millionaire): A man looking like ARR is running as the projector shows pictures of ARR and his milestones. Train like feel, you see! Everyone thinks Rahman is running. He's air lifted and the boss enters singing. Howl !!!

2) Adhiradi (Sivaji): ARR is wearing a black coat with LED lights on them. Looked really funky. Only one charanam was performed and surprisingly he didn't forget the lyrics.

3) Say naa naa (Couples Retreat): Enter Benny & Blaaze with Krystal Garib. Benny was wearing a really funky long kurta with feathers and doing some really enthusiastic hopping/skipping. While most Indians blinked, the few Americans enjoyed it.

4) Some bloody brilliant jamming by Sanjeev Thomas (dressed in a red panjakacham with a black shirt complete with Nike sports shoes!) and an American on the banjo. Very very spunky!

5) Yeh jo des hai tera (Swades): There was a patriotic undertone to the entire concert, and it all began with this. It ended with Naveen's first solo of the day. Soulful !

6) Takuyo Hirano is definitely talented. This was his turn for a solo drum act with some foot-tapping bhangra beats, but he failed to engage the audience like Sivamani does. The act transitions into the Rang De Basanti title track performed by Benny, Harshdeep Kaur and Neeti Muhan.

7) Dreams on Fire (Slumdog Millionaire): Again just one charanam performed by Kristal Garib. She seems like an ABCD, but held the act together very well.

8) Nazrein milana (Jaane tu ya jaane na): Performed by Benny Dayal, Sanjeev Thomas (yes, the cool guitarist sang too!) and Shweta. Benny & Shweta had an amazing chemistry and some really good moves too!

9) Barso re (Guru): Neeti muhan & Kristal Garib with Naveen, an Asian Violinist and the tabla guy jamming to end it with the na rey na rey bit.

10) Dil se rey (Dil se): ARR messed up the lyrics for this one. Infact, he sang the same charanam twice. I'm not complaining, I had gooseflesh when he hit the high pitch in the end. I did miss Raihanah & Tanvi in the backup vocals. I thought the crowd was relatively less noisy for this one.

11) Bombay Theme: Naveen on flute and the Asian string player on Cello with Malachi doing some break moves, while another Asian woman contorted her body into weird positions!

12) Mausam and Escape (Slumdog Millionaire): Sanjeev Thomas let his hair and his strings run loose for this one. Oh-My-God-can-a-guitar-sound-like-that-too material! And when people around me exclaimed : "Who is that?" I was only too proud to announce: "Sanjeev Thomas - ARR's lead guitarist !" He just redefines cool!

13) Bharat Humko / Tamizha Tamizha (Bombay): Hariharan finally enters with his wisdom and wearing an atrociously hideous garb that looked like it had been made by tearing the Indian flag apart. Nevertheless as always, he held the entire song together while the other singers struggled to keep pace with Hariji's alaaps. We all know who's the boss !

14) Theeyil Vizhunda theana (Varalaaru) opening humming transition to Lukka Chuppi (Rang De Basanti): Lata Mangeshkar singing the entire song was used a projection alongside Rahman. It looked absolutely ethereal and I am sure every soul wanted to run back home to their mothers when this came on!"Yahan sab kuch hai maa, phir bhi, lagey bin tere mujhko akela!"

15) Aazadi (Bose): Orange, White and Green lights flood the auditorium. ARR on his highest note. Patriotism strikes. Freedom. Goosebumps. Shudder. Spine chills as he hits Aazadi.

16) Liquid Dance (Slumdog Millionaire): The track is played instead and dancers do crazy acrobatics that knots your stomach!

17) Pappu can't dance (Jaane tu ya jaane na): ARR wears some funky headphones and Benny, Blaaze, Neeti & Shweta set the stage on fire ! Short-lived.

18) Tribute to Michael Jackson: ARR sings Black or White that sounds strangely like MJ himself(gooseflesh!) and Malachi does some more break dance and moonwalking dressed up like MJ.

19) ARR on Piano and says : "Let's have some smooth blues" : He plays a mix of Hosanna & Mannippaya which you don't want to end but does so in a couple of seconds and transitions to Hello Mr. Ethirkatchi (Iruvar) performed by Neeti Muhan. She kadichu thuppifies (massacres) the words, but has a creative style of her own version of the song. The last briha bits are very jazzy and sound nothing like Harini's original. It was a very genre-oriented take on the song.

20) ARR walks on to the ramp and begins crooning Marhabaaaaa(Oorvasi) which is forcibly mixed with Taxi taxi being taken over by Blaaze & Benny. I have to admit, Benny is quite the performer ! He flirted with every female dancer who danced past him ! :P

21) Hai Rama (Rangeela): Hariharan & Shweta Pandit - OMG!! Hariharan flatters everybody with his vocal abilities and Shweta Pandit stays on par with him! She picks up notes with such ease and has so much versatility ! She makes an excellent replacement for Chinmayi.

22) Only you: ARR. Unplugged Solo. Should I say more. Period.

23) Medley of Hindustani styles: A tribute to Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Saab: Hariharan, Vijay Prakash, Shweta Pandit and Zeenia Roy sit around ARR while he's on the harmonium. Hariji begins with Bhor Bhaye, snaps into a thumri. Now, Vijay Prakash begins singing Ennavale in Telugu gets the loudest cheer of the day - gets flattered - blushes and sings with full feelings! *heart skips a beat, I fall in love with him at first note. Hariji gets a little jealous and starts Kandukonden kandukonden which he takes to Anbe anbe kolladhe. Zeenia Roy failed miserably to catch up with the tempo despite ARR giving her the cue for Dheeme Dheeme gaoon(Zubeidaa). Shweta Pandit got the crowd out of their seats with her Genda Phool. The crowd went wild when Rahman sang Rehna Tu and even louder when Vijay Prakash ended it with Hosanna. By the end of this performance, I was already head over heels in love with Vijay Prakash.

24) Mehndi hai (Zubeidaa) : The men leave and Shweta Pandit & Zeenia Roy perform decently.

25) Mangalyam (Alaipayuthey): Alphons & Vijay Prakash ! Why can't we hear more of these two! Malachi in a velvet suit, plays matchmaker to 2 dancers! Funny ! The male dancer resembled Madhavan according to the fat maami who sat behind me. *turn left, quickly turn right and repeat procedure as fast as you can*

26) Ringa Ringa (Slumdog Millionaire): Neeti Muhan & Shweta Pandit : The men were drooling all over the two pretty singers who did some booty shaking as well. These girls can sing, I tell you! Chitra & Sadhna Sargam will not be missed at all if these 2 are around. A big treat to the ears as well as the eyes!

27) Ik Onkaar (Rang De Basanti): Harshdeep Kaur in her Sufi ke Sultana garb hits all the right notes and marks the start to the religious turn the concert takes henceforth.

28) O paalanhare (Lagaan): Shweta Pandit & Zeenia Roy: Zeenia begins with an alaap and Shweta takes over. You just don't want her to stop. Divine.

29) Khwaja (Jodhaa Akbar): ARR, Alphons, Vijay Prakash: He starts by saying that this is one of his most special songs. It sounds just about right, yet a little hurried. And it was not followed by Arziyaan, maybe because Javed Ali wasn't there?

30) Ganesh (Bombay Dreams): Huge umbrellas covered in colorful LED lights held by dancers meander through the audience as this track from Bombay Dreams is played. Taken over for the "hoi hoi, la la" part by Benny & Vijay Prakash; it ends with Vijay Prakash screaming "Ganpathy bappa moriya!"

31) Dekho aayi holi (Mangal Pandey): The only thing I remember apart from the colorful dancers is Vijay Prakash! Don't ask me more, I beg of you! *drool*

32) Chaiyya chaiyya (Dil se): Harshdeep Kaur starts off and ARR comes on stage playing his guitar like keyboard(what is it called?) with Vijay Prakash & Alphons. And then before you know anything else, the crowd is off their seats and everyone is running towards the stage. The securities fail to control the crowd and everyone is gathered in front trying to be in the same frame as the maestro. And then you realize that ARR is not singing, its Vijay Prakash, and then you hear a voice in its highest pitch and some neck craning later you realize that its actually Alphons doing the high pitched "Chaiyya" notes. Sukhwinder, dude, you've got some major competition from namma pasanga!

33) Humma -Andha Arabic Kadaloram (Bombay): Blaaze and ARR stand atop the steps, arms on each others shoulders and they swish their hands in unison at the projector and the words HUMMA appear in graffiti style. What do you think would happen? The crowd that had just retreated to their seats is back to the front of the stage. The singers don't stop for a good 6.50 minutes, and the crowd begs them to go on further. ARR is all smiles and keeps continuing with his Humma's. But all good things must come to an end. And it did end and we were almost ready for the next one.

34) Jai ho (Slumdog Millionaire): All the singers unite to croon the title song of the world tour. Everything seems right. The world is a happy place !

35) Vande Mataram: The perfect culmination to every ARR Concert. Your faith is restored and you are left to search for something else to look forward to in your life. And with a very content and a heavy heart, I refused to budge until the curtains dropped and the couple behind me cleared their throats rather too loudly to get me to move.

I was surprised to not find Rahman behind the keyboard through the entire show. He was either singing, playing the piano or climbing up and down the stairs on stage. Oh yes, the stage despite being small, was utilized appropriately. Keith Peters had too small a role for the rockstar that he is. Overall, I did feel that the performances seemed a little rushed when they tried to be super efficient and churned out song after song without a gap at all. It was just too much to take in at one point of time. I wouldn't complain if I had two extra pairs of eyes and ears and an extra set of hands to record ! The dancers who were a motley mix did an excellent job and kept the spirits soaring. And there it all ended and I'm now left with amazing memories and hopes for another concert or the release of a new album by ARR! :D

PS: For the first time after coming to the United States, I'm seeing so many Indians in one place. For a moment I felt like I was in Ranganathan Street ! (Ranganathan Street is a road in Chennai where you will witness a population density that is higher than that of Mongolia!)

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Going for the AR Rahman: Jai Ho - The Journey Home concert in Atlantic City, NJ. After my experience in 2008 which is here, this is my second ARR concert in an entirely different continent, halfway across the world. Talking about excitement, I can't quite contain it. The result of which is my incoherent blabber all day. I woke up with a big smile plastered on my face which I can't quite take off.

Needless to say, I'm hoping for a mind-blowing event that promises to unite a show that would be a bit of Broadway - Rock show meets ARR's Magic. I promise to put in every detail tomorrow and make this an everlasting memory!

Jai ho!

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Ok, so I decided not to give an opportunity to my 5 readers which includes me, my roommate (who I force to read anyways), my mother who thinks she can get to know her daughter's love interests through her blog (ha!), and 2 other people who drop by to find nothing interesting and still leave a comment (oww, thank you guys!) to complain about my long gap between posts. Whew, by the end of that line I'd almost forgotten what I was saying. Talk about me and digressing.

So as the swimming pool outside begins to crowd with women in fancy bikinis with too many knots tied in strategic places and men in modest trunks, I start my sunday morning with Facebook, Twitter and Gmail and a few occasional glances towards the pool. Infact I start my every morning with Facebook, Twitter and Gmail, the added pool glances are merely a weekend affair.

OK, so getting back to the point - Facebook contributes to 75% of my time pass. Thanks to my loyal iPhone (less jealousy please!), I update myself every hour on my friends' relationship statuses, gawk at some display images, wonder how A added B through D who happens to have been my bench mate in 6th standard. All of this is apart from the display of culinary skills by friends who once complained about their college mess food in India and are now making delicious looking, complicatedly spelled desserts in the US. And don't even get me started on the status updates; they range from excited friends going away on vacations to how hot Chennai is (Come on guys, its not like you have been in Alaska all your life and also it doesn't count when you update from an air conditioned room). And there's my cue to switch tabs to Twitter only to find my timeline spammed by Shreya Ghoshal's lack of sleep, Shah Rukh Khan's muscle aches, Abhishek Bachchan's music library shuffling, Sachin Tendulkar's charity work, Paulo Coelho's thathuvams (quotes) and FunnyOneLiner's oh-I've-heard-that-before liners amidst some more of Chennai is so hot ya ! And then of course there's my most loyal timepass - Gmail. I should probably write an entire post dedicated to Gmail; but I'll save that for another day.

What would I do without Gmail in my daily life? It all begins with my mom starting a voice chat to probe about lunch, dinner and then next day's lunch menu with some intermittent touting of how she would not like an American son-in-law and also that buttermilk is better for me than beer. As I appropriately place my "Hmm.. ok maa" I multi-task by providing some intense relationship advice to a friend, reply to unanswered emails and plan my week ahead. No wonder my mom has now started complaining about why is "hmm ok maa" the only thing I've been saying so far.

Oh and just for your information, this post was typed as I did all of the above things and now that my stomach has made its presence felt by grumbling loud enough for everyone to hear, I should hunt down that packet of Maggi and instant soup before beginning to watch random videos on Youtube until its time for dinner ! What - a - life ! :D

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I have reasons to smile, yet I feel unhappy about the imperfections. I wouldn't call myself a perfectionist or a workaholic, but there are a few things that I just cannot tolerate. And it bothers me so much that I impulsively make a few immediate and unwanted alterations only to regret it sooner than later. I constantly try to remind myself that it is never simple to choose between the right thing and the easy thing.
Despite being slightly neurotic about a few things, I fervently start making changes and lose motivation when I don't see results. I should remember not to lose hope and be persistent, yet I hate it when the thought of giving up enters my mind and disturbs everything.
I really did not want this to be my post after so long. I have so many reasons to celebrate and be proud of, but it baffles me as to why I chose this. I can never write something until I truly feel it. I can't write what people want to read, my dwindling readership is the last thing I would want to worry about. I've always tried to get rid of the negativity within by blogging and this baby of mine has borne the brunt for almost 5 years now. Change has to come from within and its about time I push things to the next level.

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