Don't you agree that there are some songs which you feel very strongly about? Listening to them can only evoke a certain type of emotion and imagination irrespective of how many times you listen to it. Doesn't matter how drunk or sober you are.
I've seen that such songs can push you over the edge. Any mood that has brought to the surface some strong emotion, there is always a song which will amplify that emotion to such an extent as to throw you off balance. I like to call these songs 'monumental'.
I've listed the ones that come to my mind right now and what i associate them with. (in no particular order)
# Since I've been loving you - Led Zep (Love and Hate at the same time)
# With or without you - U2 (Serenity in the most real sense of the word)
# Lonely day - System of a Down (Liberation, Latitude)
# Sleep to dream - Fiona Apple (Strength and perseverance)
# The nomad - Iron Maiden (I always feel the song is about me. Don't know why)
# Study War - Moby (I've never been to New Orleans but makes me think of it)
# Dream - Priscilla Ahn (Nostalgia. Very tragic.)
--
Go ahead and list some songs that work on you.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Stealth
I can say with some confidence that 3 months (almost) of inactivity have turned me into what i truly am: nocturnal. "Maggot Brain" by Funkadelic playing in the background. I may have admitted to detesting funk in the past; I have my inconsistencies.
I admit it. I furious at you, my readers. I have no right to be but everyone is entitled to his/ her share of misdirected anger. Do you know why i keep a counter on my blog? To appease the timid, attention-seeking, embarrassed chihuahua (Chi) in me. For the record, I hate chihuahuas. My Chi would be dejected but peaceful if there were no people reading it at all. I know there are lots of people reading my posts because I'm certain no one is so crazy about my blog or me to reload it a dozen times every day. Nah. no one is that crazy. I am not.
I'm staring into absolute darkness and i know many pairs of eyes are trained on me, watching, observing, recording, judging. I can't assign these eyes to faces or names. Hell, i can't see the eyes to begin with. This is what blogging is like occasionally. It irritates my Chi and consequently, me.
I was brought up in a small township. The people were not bad at all when it came to leaving others alone but it was awful as far as resources, supplies and exposure were concerned. We did have everything technology had to offer as years slid by. Born a Hindu, I stopped believing in active worship when i was 6 years old. At 12, I was an atheist. Only, i didn't see the point in being vocal about it, simply because my parents let me be me.
Books were with me. The colors, fonts and sizes changed with the stories they held in them. Just like the people i let be my friends for a while; always for a while. People never stick. Books always do because they don't talk. A lot like god, if you think about it. I learned about the world. All I could read and remember, I did. I also have turned out to be one who's driven by curiosity and wants to know at least a little about everything in the world and also wants to be good at many things. I don't know which fed what, which was the egg: books or curiosity. Today they both are fully-grown hens that will die the day I do.
Why all this bullshit today? I'm only telling you why I get irritated that i don't know who my readers are and also telling you how the reason came into being one.
--
Ha! I didn't digress at all today. Amazing. Meanwhile, remember this: I'm addicted to lip balm. If I'm ever made to quit, I ll need to be put in a rehab center. Some place with lawns, books, music and handsome doctors.
I admit it. I furious at you, my readers. I have no right to be but everyone is entitled to his/ her share of misdirected anger. Do you know why i keep a counter on my blog? To appease the timid, attention-seeking, embarrassed chihuahua (Chi) in me. For the record, I hate chihuahuas. My Chi would be dejected but peaceful if there were no people reading it at all. I know there are lots of people reading my posts because I'm certain no one is so crazy about my blog or me to reload it a dozen times every day. Nah. no one is that crazy. I am not.
I'm staring into absolute darkness and i know many pairs of eyes are trained on me, watching, observing, recording, judging. I can't assign these eyes to faces or names. Hell, i can't see the eyes to begin with. This is what blogging is like occasionally. It irritates my Chi and consequently, me.
I was brought up in a small township. The people were not bad at all when it came to leaving others alone but it was awful as far as resources, supplies and exposure were concerned. We did have everything technology had to offer as years slid by. Born a Hindu, I stopped believing in active worship when i was 6 years old. At 12, I was an atheist. Only, i didn't see the point in being vocal about it, simply because my parents let me be me.
Books were with me. The colors, fonts and sizes changed with the stories they held in them. Just like the people i let be my friends for a while; always for a while. People never stick. Books always do because they don't talk. A lot like god, if you think about it. I learned about the world. All I could read and remember, I did. I also have turned out to be one who's driven by curiosity and wants to know at least a little about everything in the world and also wants to be good at many things. I don't know which fed what, which was the egg: books or curiosity. Today they both are fully-grown hens that will die the day I do.
Why all this bullshit today? I'm only telling you why I get irritated that i don't know who my readers are and also telling you how the reason came into being one.
--
Ha! I didn't digress at all today. Amazing. Meanwhile, remember this: I'm addicted to lip balm. If I'm ever made to quit, I ll need to be put in a rehab center. Some place with lawns, books, music and handsome doctors.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
books
I sincerely don't know why i'm doing this. Anyway, here it is nevertheless:
01 – Best book you read last year- Shantaram by Roberts
02 – A book that you’ve read more than 3 times - Wuthering Heights by Bronte
03 – Your favorite series- LOTR by Tolkien
04 – Favorite book of your favorite series- The Fellowship of the Ring
05 – A book that makes you happy - Happy?
06 – A book that makes you sad- The Winner Stands Alone by Coelho
07 – Most underrated author - If it's not so much as underrated as not having received the deserved attention, then i'd say Yann Martel
08 – Most overrated author - Dan Brown, Chetan Bhagat
09 – A book you thought you wouldn’t like but ended up loving - (Edited on Feb 21, 2012) - The God of Small Things by Roy.
10 – Favorite classic book - Great Expectations by Dickens
11 – A book you hated - Foucault's Pendulum by Eco
12 – A book you used to like but don’t anymore - The Alchemist by Coelho
13 – Your favorite writer - Tough question. Lately, Julian Barnes
14 – Favorite book of your favorite writer: ?
15 – Favorite male character: Ka in Snow by Pamuk
16 – Favorite female character- Dagny Taggart in Atlas Shrugged by Rand
17 – Favorite quote from a book- “And those who were dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." - Friedrich Nietzsche
18 – A book that disappointed you - Sea of Poppies by Ghosh
19 – Favorite book turned into a movie - The Kite Runner by Hosseini
20 – Favorite romance book - Wuthering Heights. (I don't read romance at all, actually)
21 – Favorite book from your childhood - The Secret Seven by Blyton
22 – Favorite book you own - Most books I've read are my personal copies.
23 – A book you wanted to read for a long time but still haven’t - Gone with the Wind (I'm wary)
24 – A book that you wish more people would’ve read - Vertigo by Banker
25 – A character who you can relate to the most - ?
26 – A book that changed your opinion about something - I can't recall
27 – The most surprising plot twist or ending - Snow by Pamuk
28 – Favorite title - Love in the Time of Cholera by Marquez
29 – A book everyone hated but you liked - Three Mistakes of My Life by Bhagat
30 – Your favorite book of all time - Wuthering Heights by Bronte
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Bite Me
If i had 250,000 dollars to spend when I'm 35 or 40 years old, what would i buy? A diamond wreath necklace or a super car? A super car. Yes I love cars and consequently, I love driving.
India, more specifically, Indian men do not have faith in female drivers. Some how they do not buy the fact that a woman can handle the stick as well as she does a lipstick brush. Today afternoon, I was in no mood to make lunch and decided to go to a restaurant and get a take-away. Empty, pot-hole-less road, cows here and there, two rowdy looking young men on a pathetic wanna-be super-bike cruising along. I gently sound the horn 20 meters behind them. The pillion rider throws his head back (yes, 'throws') to see I, a woman, is driving the car. The information must have reached the driver because he then literally closed the door on one side while a starved cow took care of the other. The pillion rider looks back at me and grins. I smile at him. In under 20 seconds, I've left them behind me with a parting slap to my car from them; In anger, disbelief, i don't know. I resume the normal city speed of 60kmph. They don't attempt to catch up with me.
I love racing sprints on empty roads when there's no risk of running over pedestrians or homeless animals or fellow motorists. However, I have the common sense to race a moped against another, a motorbike against another and car against another. I suspect even the gits in the above anecdote possessed that sense. In ordinary circumstances, they wouldn't compete with a vehicle with at least 6 times hp/tonne. In my case, they just had to.
What I'm curious about is if this is the case in India or all over the world. To give this what seems like a common notion the benefit of the doubt, is an average man better at driving than an average woman? I remember this 'funny' picture posted by a friend on facebook. A multitude of cars are driving down a six-lane highway. A single white car is headed in the opposite direction. The picture is accompanied by a conversation on phone.
AbCd: Honey, be careful when you drive. some people drive drunk or on the wrong side.
AbCd's spouse: Some? You should look at this. The whole bunch of 'em are driving on the wrong side.
The picture then has a photoshop arrow pointing at the white car and a bubble with the text "And of course, the driver is a woman!"
I don't have a problem with the oblivious driver being a woman but what's the deal with the "of course"? I'm positively sick of it. I'm pretty sure I can drive better than most over-confident, not talented gentlemen. Don't Mess With Me.
India, more specifically, Indian men do not have faith in female drivers. Some how they do not buy the fact that a woman can handle the stick as well as she does a lipstick brush. Today afternoon, I was in no mood to make lunch and decided to go to a restaurant and get a take-away. Empty, pot-hole-less road, cows here and there, two rowdy looking young men on a pathetic wanna-be super-bike cruising along. I gently sound the horn 20 meters behind them. The pillion rider throws his head back (yes, 'throws') to see I, a woman, is driving the car. The information must have reached the driver because he then literally closed the door on one side while a starved cow took care of the other. The pillion rider looks back at me and grins. I smile at him. In under 20 seconds, I've left them behind me with a parting slap to my car from them; In anger, disbelief, i don't know. I resume the normal city speed of 60kmph. They don't attempt to catch up with me.
I love racing sprints on empty roads when there's no risk of running over pedestrians or homeless animals or fellow motorists. However, I have the common sense to race a moped against another, a motorbike against another and car against another. I suspect even the gits in the above anecdote possessed that sense. In ordinary circumstances, they wouldn't compete with a vehicle with at least 6 times hp/tonne. In my case, they just had to.
What I'm curious about is if this is the case in India or all over the world. To give this what seems like a common notion the benefit of the doubt, is an average man better at driving than an average woman? I remember this 'funny' picture posted by a friend on facebook. A multitude of cars are driving down a six-lane highway. A single white car is headed in the opposite direction. The picture is accompanied by a conversation on phone.
AbCd: Honey, be careful when you drive. some people drive drunk or on the wrong side.
AbCd's spouse: Some? You should look at this. The whole bunch of 'em are driving on the wrong side.
The picture then has a photoshop arrow pointing at the white car and a bubble with the text "And of course, the driver is a woman!"
I don't have a problem with the oblivious driver being a woman but what's the deal with the "of course"? I'm positively sick of it. I'm pretty sure I can drive better than most over-confident, not talented gentlemen. Don't Mess With Me.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Life in Constant Motion
Reality either takes an eternity or an instant to manifest. It takes about 60 years of living for one to feel aging in all its glory. At 20, one's sure he/ she will only eventually get there. Fundamentally, death is always instant. Passing from living to dead takes an infinitesimally small period of time. The many or few days leading up to it produce an illusion of it being drawn out. Relatively, life is infinitely long. Enough Bullshit.
I have a bone to pick with every person who expects writers to pack ten lifetimes' worth incidents in a single novel. Thriller trilogies sometimes make me feel sorry for the writer for having subjected himself to writing a super-fast version of life not once but three times. Mystery is about the only genre of fiction that can enamor a child so as to make him read books for life. No kid wants to read what a man stuck in a snowed-down Turkish town has to say (Snow by Pamuk). However, some times people tend to fall more in love with the concept of thrill and mystery than with the written word. One cannot expect for a million things to happen in a book which has its focus on emotion or philosophy. In my opinion, it's about the same as expecting a car to fly off the stage and onto the audience in a theater showing a musical.
Anyone who's watched more than 2 episodes of an Indian soap opera will agree that life in these serials is super-slow. As if the dialogue delivery isn't slow and labored enough, lines that the director thinks are terribly important are repeated in a loop, much like an echo. Enough digression.
One should open a book with an open mind. Some people would prefer to witness quarter of a lifetime in it and some would prefer twenty-five.It's apples and oranges. Don't shun the apple because it's not a orange.
I have a bone to pick with every person who expects writers to pack ten lifetimes' worth incidents in a single novel. Thriller trilogies sometimes make me feel sorry for the writer for having subjected himself to writing a super-fast version of life not once but three times. Mystery is about the only genre of fiction that can enamor a child so as to make him read books for life. No kid wants to read what a man stuck in a snowed-down Turkish town has to say (Snow by Pamuk). However, some times people tend to fall more in love with the concept of thrill and mystery than with the written word. One cannot expect for a million things to happen in a book which has its focus on emotion or philosophy. In my opinion, it's about the same as expecting a car to fly off the stage and onto the audience in a theater showing a musical.
Anyone who's watched more than 2 episodes of an Indian soap opera will agree that life in these serials is super-slow. As if the dialogue delivery isn't slow and labored enough, lines that the director thinks are terribly important are repeated in a loop, much like an echo. Enough digression.
One should open a book with an open mind. Some people would prefer to witness quarter of a lifetime in it and some would prefer twenty-five.It's apples and oranges. Don't shun the apple because it's not a orange.
Eddie #08 - Masculinity
Xo: Who were you talking to over the phone, honey?
Xo: Oh, it was my old friend, AbCd. He's in town and wanted to know if i was free for lunch.
Xo: Who?
Xo: Don't you remember, baby? The swimmer friend of mine .. He asked me out years ago .. He was in the nation's top 20 .. OMG what a body he had!
Xo: Hmmm .. Ok
Xo: Are you jealous? :_)
Xo: Nah .. I can down six bottles of beer in under 2 hours. Can your swimmer do that?
Xo: He hates beer.
Xo (all smug): So when are you meeting your gay swimmer friend?
Xo: Oh, it was my old friend, AbCd. He's in town and wanted to know if i was free for lunch.
Xo: Who?
Xo: Don't you remember, baby? The swimmer friend of mine .. He asked me out years ago .. He was in the nation's top 20 .. OMG what a body he had!
Xo: Hmmm .. Ok
Xo: Are you jealous? :_)
Xo: Nah .. I can down six bottles of beer in under 2 hours. Can your swimmer do that?
Xo: He hates beer.
Xo (all smug): So when are you meeting your gay swimmer friend?
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