tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-266859222024-03-07T13:22:40.251+05:30Abhipraya - Unasked and unpaid for!A professor at my college once famously opened his lecture by saying “Opinions are like ass***** and everybody has one." This is certainly not his original but it made an impact because this was coming from a guy who made his living - bread, butter and jam by airing his opinions. He was an art critic! I am aware that I will not be paid for this opinion venting. I will be content just knowing I will have less clutter in my head.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.comBlogger275125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-28450445216623170192012-03-27T21:49:00.000+05:302012-03-27T21:49:17.869+05:30What to do?What do you do when the child declares "I like you both accha, amma' with a big smile?<br />
<br />
Although I do suspect it was because she realised we had made her very favourite paneer for dinner :)Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-41387580849909413492012-01-27T02:27:00.000+05:302012-01-27T02:27:00.652+05:30Note to selfYou are always alone. There are people. But you are always alone.<br />
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A truth that I have been refusing to accept. And with age, the wisdom(!!!) has come to accept the reality. To say to myself that shit remains shit and that I should move on.<br />
<br />
To accept that love changes, love diminishes, love dies. But you can move on. Heartbreaks aren't permanent. It might hurt longer, leave a scar but it is not permanent. You can find your old sweetheart on FB, looking perfectly happy with his 2 kids. And yet know he hasn't forgotten you just by the way he tries so hard to stay out of your life. <br />
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That there is no absolute freedom. Only degrees of it. And that most of the constraints come from within. <br />
<br />
11 years ago there was one such moment when I decided that I am not taking shit anymore and that I will do exactly as I please. And I did. For about 2 years, everything was happy and hungover. But I wasn't prepared for the loneliness that freedom came with. <br />
<br />
You can't please yourself and everyone else. I paid a price. But I didn't learn anything. Rather refused to learn. (Something about teacher's kids being dumb eh)<br />
<br />
But this time I am older and wiser (!!!) and I do know to pick my battles. And I do know loneliness comes with the territory. I plan to find a way to circumvent it. No fight, no ignoring.<br />
<br />
I hope that I move on. Not capitulate. <br />
<br />
You are always alone. There are people. But you are always alone.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-91924115724416266252011-12-03T17:08:00.000+05:302011-12-03T17:08:40.185+05:30SI was not close to her. But we had our moments in the year that we spent together. Her happy, sarcastic, funny, witty self, hid a lot of anger and frustration but she didn't let it come in the way of life. <br />
<br />
I saw her on and off a few times in the last 9 years. We made umpteen plans to meet up in the last two years but they never materialised. <br />
<br />
All her excuses sounded just that, excuses. Then she visited me a month ago. We talked about things that were of little consequence. She was unhappy I could tell. I knew things were not right. I had heard rumours of depression, attempts at fixing a broken marriage. I knew about her desperation to get back into the 'mainstream' career. But I also knew she was a proud woman who held it all together. The seemingly happy marriages and great careers didn't really make her comfortable enough to confide, reach out. I made no real attempt to reach out either. <br />
<br />
For the first time in my life, I told myself this is not my battle, I have too many things to sort out for myself. Surely she has made other friends over the years whom she can reach out to?<br />
<br />
But then I heard last Monday that she decided to end it all. She apparently made one last phone call to her husband, said this is it. And that was that. In her own spotless home, surrounded by happy marriage pictures she tied that noose around her neck. An image that refuses to go away.<br />
<br />
I was never close to her. But it breaks my heart to think that she had no one to reach out to. <br />
<br />
People tell me when you are on the brink of it you don't really want to reach out. Friends and family don't matter. I don't believe that.<br />
<br />
May be I am kidding myself by thinking I should've reached out and that may be she would've reciprocated. <br />
<br />
But for now all I can think of is how she was sitting across me holding my little girl and I was telling myself it is not my battle. <br />
<br />
People also tell me that she may be in a better place now. Are you at peace S?Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-24219947753569160812011-07-14T17:57:00.000+05:302011-07-14T17:57:08.405+05:30Mumbai yet againI have never come close to the terror that Mumbai and its people (and thousands of others right from Kashmir to the North East) have had to live with. I hope I don't have to. And I hope this is last time I have to wonder about how those people felt.<br />
<br />
But I do wonder how hard it must be for them. 2 weeks ago Kumar Sangakkara (yes the cricketer from Sri Lanka) delivered a spectacular speech at the MCC on terror and cricket in his country. Everything he said was so profound and genuine, but this line stayed with me - 'parents would take separate buses so that should anything happen, at least one of them will go back to the children.' I cannot think about it without a lump in my throat. That line kept kept coming back to me as I watched inexperienced and experienced journalists ask stupid questions to people who hadn't had time to wash off the dust from all the blasts.<br />
<br />
All those people who died yesterday...so many dreams, so many hopes and probably some bitterness came to an end. And someone else decided to end it for them. We'll never know who, why or probably even how. <br />
<br />
This is not the post i started out to write. I was generally thinking about all the hoopla around Mumbai forgetting the fears and stepping out and wondering about my own fears. But that list (yes a long one at that) is silly compared what the people of Mumbai and elsewhere feel in a the face of constant fear.<br />
<br />
Of all the rhetoric that's floating around, <a href="http://in.news.yahoo.com/blogs/thewatercooler/mumbai-bloody-spirit-080939141.html">This one</a> made a lot of sense. Battered housewife is a perfect if unacceptable analogy.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-69181060641814553932011-07-11T23:45:00.000+05:302011-07-11T23:45:44.569+05:30And so another Monday went byDiscovered interesting things about a colleague today. Dunno what to make of all the information I have on hand. But glad I know better. I don't think ignorance is bliss when it comes to knowing people. <br />
<br />
I am looking for a break on how to take <a href="http://justfemme.in/">Just Femme</a> forward. That's all I've been thinking about for a while now.<br />
<br />
That and how to make the days stretch longer than 24 hours. Neither of the problems are yielding at this point in time.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-44843318523001373632011-07-09T23:06:00.001+05:302011-07-09T23:09:47.472+05:30This week in a few words. OK! SentencesDeath of two gold fish. Never again am I bringing them fish into this house! It is too sad :(<br />
<br />
Rediscovering music. Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Beatles no less :) It makes me insanely happy :) <br />
<br />
Lovely books for company. Inspiring. have you seen <a href="http://prosepaeans.blogspot.com/">this?</a> That's were I keep track of my book reads. Psst do check out my reading list. Very thrilled about it.<br />
<br />
Bonding with Miss T like never before. It is actually so much fun to talk to her. <br />
<br />
Sunday is promising to be very exciting since V is back after 2 weeks.<br />
<br />
Now if only I could rediscover the trick to trick the writer's block outta my head...Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-33560882286807089082011-07-04T19:05:00.000+05:302011-07-04T19:05:08.494+05:30Monday at homeTraffic was piled up practically to my door step. I'd had a rough morning with Miss T with lot of yelling,kicking, and crying so I decided to work from home. Not surprisingly I am more productive at home than I am in the office. I browse lesser. I spend less time on FB and Twitter :)<br />
<br />
But it felt so wonderful to receive T when she got back from school :) She didn't jump in joy or any such thing. But she was content. Monday office ilva (No office on Monday?) she said :) The context being me trying to explain that the only day she and I and V can spend the whole day together is when there's no office or school which is only on Saturday and Sunday. And so Monday thuuusday ella school chennagilla is what I hear every morning. (Monday, Tuesday etc., there's school. It is not nice).Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-74648186703600699512011-07-01T17:07:00.001+05:302011-07-01T17:09:00.662+05:30Oh my beloved Sankey RoadIn the late 90s this was the road that I'd take to and from work for many years. There wasn't crazy traffic like now. The wait at the Bhashyam circle signal couldn't have been more than 5 min. <br />
<br />
But what excited me the most was the drive from Bhashyam circle on to Sankey Road at sunset. It was a 5 minute drive overall but the one I used to plan very carefully and wait for all day. I couldn't do it too often since my office ended after sunset on most days. But I managed to drive down that road at least once a week. What a glorious sight that was. Calm, quiet drive down the road with bright orange sun rippling the lake. I'd even turn back at Malleshwaram 18th cross junction just to do the drive all over again. <br />
<br />
For a brief period the signals from MG Road to Raj bhavan was synchronised and if I planned it right I could cruise along the entire stretch...driving into the sunset literally. The orange sun in my eyes all along, playing hide and seek against the silhouetted trees. <br />
<br />
Now I dread to even occasionally venture on to MG Road or Sankey road. <br />
<br />
MG Road has lost many trees to Metro and <a href="http://bangalore.citizenmatters.in/articles/view/3139-sankey-road-tree-cutting-arrests">today Sankey Road's </a>losing its trees to road widening. The localites however are not interested in road widening. <br />
<br />
Where is this going to stop I wonder.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-55744589510892044382011-06-29T17:51:00.003+05:302011-06-29T17:51:56.794+05:30Wednesday is hereAction readyAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-82425986966931349772011-06-28T18:24:00.002+05:302011-06-28T18:24:34.764+05:30Action TuesdayInvigorating<br />
ProactiveAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-41833141057383329302011-06-27T23:10:00.000+05:302011-06-27T23:10:02.647+05:30Monday MutteringsSleepy<br />
Love<br />
CluelessAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-47143612459885827832011-06-23T18:27:00.003+05:302011-06-23T18:27:46.281+05:30Tired ThursdayTiredAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-50817111301158078462011-06-21T21:54:00.000+05:302011-06-21T21:54:57.899+05:30Twisted TuesdayIncredulous<br />
Outrage<br />
Sad<br />
Disconnect<br />
Fatigue<br />
TwistedAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-67527853461244857542011-06-20T17:19:00.000+05:302011-06-20T17:19:37.296+05:30Monday MutteringsYeah the title should tell you i've run out of real words! But here it goes.<br />
<br />
Guilt<br />
Boredom<br />
Disgust<br />
Hunger<br />
Excitement<br />
ResignationAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-38936970891328121672011-06-17T17:49:00.000+05:302011-06-17T17:49:25.344+05:30Friday FundasFear<br />
Happiness<br />
Tasty<br />
Disappointment<br />
Worry<br />
Eager<br />
Determined<br />
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All that in one day and technically the day is not over yet.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-21629282020231454672011-06-16T21:40:00.003+05:302011-06-16T21:46:59.515+05:30Thursday TantrumsWords for the day:<br /><br />Boxed<br />Frustrated<br />Intrigued<br />Incredulous<br />Smile<br />Angry<br /><br />PS: I have had a writer's block for more than a year now. But I shall take baby steps. Will write down one word at a time, everyday. And some day hopefully words will tumble out and make sentences. Till then <a href="http://www.agonia.net/index.php/poetry/13902956/Roll_the_Dice">Roll the dice</a>.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-35703146698728225952011-02-07T18:33:00.002+05:302011-02-07T18:36:24.974+05:30Very WTF phaseEverything that canNOT go wrong is going wrong. <br /><br />Save for Miss T's mostly joyous ruckus.<br /><br />Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah<br /><br />Writer's block isn't helping.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-42519175800147247882010-10-01T16:51:00.004+05:302010-10-01T16:54:58.062+05:30Do you fight for gender sensitivity through your blog?Then you can get recognised for doing your bit. The third UNFPA Laadli media awards have been announced for more details go <a href="http://www.justfemme.in/laadli-call-for-entries">here</a>. And they have a category for blogs :)<br /><br />Send in your entries before November 1st.<br /><br />Who said blogging is just a personal exercise? :)<br /><br />Do pass it on to your other blogger friends. And if you know anyone writing regional blogs, rope them in too. There is a special category for regional blogs.Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-63202818999483674642010-09-13T00:51:00.004+05:302010-09-13T01:11:20.675+05:30Corny existential stuffI don't usually do these kinds of posts. But then this is my vent space and these days my only vent space. so...<br /><br />Do you ever get a feeling that you have changed so much that you can't figure out yourself? Well I feel like that these days. (I told you it was corny)<br /><br />The image, that was me and the new and not necessarily improved me, (post baby) is almost irreconcilable. I can't seem to get a hold of things. The control freak that I am...hate it. Totally abhor it. I was never the fixed routine kind of person anyways. But all impulses and the reaction to it was all mine. These days I just react. And not always nicely. There is no mindspace to think, create, execute outside of Miss T's diet plans. And as much as I love that child, that isn't enough.<br /><br />I didn't realise how bad it was to not have a career till now. I don't work full time. Worse, I work from home; so I can't claim to be a career woman and I am not your typical homemaker either (no offence to homemakers). I am in my own little trishanku swarga.<br /><br />And I swear I could do with a LOT less guilt. I am prone to guilt and then there are people to make it worse. There is no getting away from people is there?<br /><br />I have no clue on the way forward. May be it'll just occur to me in my sleep. Or may be I'll just get used to this. <br /><br />PHHHHHBBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-75299459997608970442010-08-25T23:00:00.005+05:302010-08-26T00:04:11.947+05:30MishmashJust for the record :) Miss T tries to distract me from giving her a lesson in what not to do by pointing to the fan or a light bulb just the way I do when she gets cranky.<br /><br />If that doesn't work. She starts dancing by bobbing up and down.<br /><br />What can I say? :D<br /><br />****<br /><br />Well, in the muddled up head of mine, the only thing that seems to be working right and on schedule is Miss T's things. Her food, play time, story time, medicines and doctor's visits. Everything else is all over the bloody place!<br /><br />Work, relationships, movies, books, music, party - I've got no time and some times no energy for these things. It has been over a year and I still can't seem to get the hang of it. Or is this how it is for every mother? Or am I trying too hard to make things go on like it was before? Any of you young ladies know the answer to this one?<br /><br />****<br /><br />I've been hunting around for college students to work on one of our projects. Man are they on a high horse or what! I want to box their ears and tell them to go back to school and learn basics. They bloody sit back shaking their foot when I am asking them if they understood what is expected of them. And then the next day they send me an SMS, an SMS saying they "cannot commit" to the project! SMS. No mail, no call. And for the money I am paying them they ought to be working for an entire month from 9 - 5. Instead they complain that the project means long travel hours (whose costs we are ready to reimburse btw.) And then they have the audacity to ask if they can send me their resume when they finish their course!<br /><br />Actually I'd like to hire them, make them sit in an office and tell them exactly how useless they are. I know it will cost me money but it will be worth it. <br /><br />I'd like to see how many of them land a job and if they survive it.<br /><br />****<br /><br />Talking of jobs. The kids these days apply to a call centre, get through, sit through the training period for which they are paid and then quit. Easy money eh? Wonder how long they can keep it up.<br /><br />****<br /><br />I am dreading the whole schooling experience that is about befall on Miss T. The sense of competition parents have is SCARY. They'll do anything to get their kids ahead in line. ANYTHING. And am not so high on getting the "best" school with "best academic record" but am not sure of this whole learn horse riding as a life-skill kinda non-formal schools either. And if I don't care and V doesn't care and Miss T doesn't care we are going to be under a lot of pressure to justify our carefree (or careless if you are on the other side). I am sure V & I can handle it but what about Miss T? huh. My only lifeline is the fact that this is still two years away.<br /><br />****<br /><br />I meet a lot of women these days on formal occasions, who introduce themselves as Mrs so and so and a mother of two. And they go on to add that being a mother is part of who they are and so it is part of introduction.<br /><br />I never introduce myself as Mrs neither do I bring up the daughter unless it is in some context or if someone asks me directly. And I don't feel like putting Miss T's picture (by herself or with me) as my profile picture in any of the networking sites. I didn't have V as part of my profile either. Not that I am afraid to reveal that I am married or embarrassed to say I am a mother. I simply don't think I have to tell that loud on every single occasion. Does this happen to you?<br /><br />****<br /><br />I do a lot of mindless surfing these days and hooked to the Simpsons, late night show. I am not getting any more intelligent with either of it but that's what I am doing. Then I hit the bed saying gosh it is the end of August already. <br /><br />PHHHRRRBBBTAbhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-87021054613948012922010-06-27T23:27:00.002+05:302010-06-27T23:31:17.989+05:30QuestionsI probably won't regret it, but I will wonder, won't I? I probably won't miss it. I will probably be able to look at the big picture ; look back, weigh the pros and cons and be content.<div><br /></div><div>Is that enough?</div><div><br /></div><div>This is all I get, one chance to do all that I want to do, all I want to say, all I want to be. How can I be just content?</div>Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-25755666917775887662010-06-10T15:39:00.003+05:302010-06-10T16:01:45.227+05:30Tuilka BlogathonI've never done a blogathon before and what fun to do it on rhymes :) So here it goes.<div><br /></div><div>Kannada rhyme that teaches clapping for younger children and shopping to older ones :)</div><div><br /></div><div>roTTi angaDi kiTTappa </div><div>nangondu roTTi taTTappa</div><div><br /></div><div>puTaani roTTi </div><div>kempage suTTu </div><div>ombattu kaasige kaTTappa</div><div>biddu hOdeetu kiTTappa</div><div><br /></div><div>This one's about a greedy boy who wouldn't share his </div><div><br /></div><div>baNNada tagaDina Tutturi </div><div>kaasige konDanu kasturi</div><div><br /></div><div>sarigamapadhanisa oodidanu</div><div>sanidhapamagarisa oodidanu</div><div><br /></div><div>tanage tutturi ideyenda </div><div>beraarigu ada koDenenda</div><div><br /></div><div>kasturi naDedanu beediyali </div><div>jambada kOLiya reetiyali</div><div><br /></div><div>tutturiyooduta koLada baLi</div><div>naDedanu kasturi sanjeyali</div><div><br /></div><div>jaaritu neerige tutturi</div><div>ganTalu kaTTitu neeroori</div><div><br /></div><div>sarigama oodalu noDidanu</div><div>ga ga ga ga saddanu maaDidanu</div><div><br /></div><div>baNNavu neerina paalaaytu</div><div>baNNada tutturi bOLaaytu</div><div><br /></div><div>baNNada tutturi haaLaaytu</div><div>jambada kOlige goLaaytu</div><div><br /></div><div>Incidentally both the poems are written by GP Rajaratnam. He wrote hundreds of songs for children which are still popular after so many decades.</div><div><br /></div><div>Id you are interested in participating in the blogathon, go <a href="http://tulikapublishers.blogspot.com/2010/06/blogathon-4-rhymes-chants-and.html">here</a>. You can submit rhymes in any language :)</div>Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-63785514392796952932010-05-15T19:32:00.007+05:302010-05-17T20:21:11.247+05:30Avial, backwaters and boiled beans<div style="text-align: justify;">This post has long been coming. I really don't know how it got to this. I only know how it started. It started with my husband, V. For all you creatures with fertile imagination out there I am not talking about Miss T's origins. I am talking about the "Mal" madness in my life.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The reason for the review of situation is that even a random google search for an illustrator throws a up a mal woman's blog (she does beautiful illustrations). I decided I need to re-examine my life's choices and see what brought this on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I grew up with the jokes of Malayalee having set up tea shop before Armstrong landed on Moon and malayalee woman's version of eLu ghante (Kannada words meaning 7 O clock) turning out to be eLu ganda (meaning 7 husbands) due to the nasal twang. And till this post I thought I didn't know many mals while growing up. Turns out I am wrong.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We bought groceries from a Mal shop. The biggest grocery store in the area where we went when we wanted exotic ingredients for cakes and ice cream was a Mal shop. Amma bought her sarees from this very lovely lady whom I only remember as girija's amma. One of my many best friends from school was a Mal girl. The bakery that sold the yummiest coconut biscuits was run by sajina's dad, a Mal. Sajina and I spend quite a bit of time rioting through the shop and hauling off huge caches of coconut biscuits, those animal shaped biscuits (do you get them now?) and rose cooks (that's acchappam :) And some of my parents' friends who plied us with yummy X mas and new year cakes were Mal. One of the nicest boy friends of one my friend was a Mal. I was so upset that they didn't get married that I moped around for months. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though after school, I didn't come across any Mals for a long time. Then I met these two guys Ajay and Bijay in the computer classes. The two of them were this ultra lecherous creatures that we girls refused to even look at. That put me off all things Mal for a long time. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then came V. I didn't even think of the fact that he was "Mal" till we decided to tell our parents that we were getting married! V says he swept me off the feet but I maintain that it was temporary amnesia. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now comes the bewildering part. Ever since V, pretty much every other person I have met and become friends with is a Mal. Journalism college was full of Mal people. And these lovely Mal people I am friends with are somehow married to other wonderful Mal people (I say somehow cos I din't think that was the primary criteria). Through my work I've met a lot of people and mostly Mal. The people I've met via blogs are Mals and so the list goes on. Today I don't have more than half a dozen people on my phone book to whom I can send funny Kannada SMS to. The Mals on the other hand make up more than half of my phone book. Any given day for a quick get together, between V's and my contact list, I'll be the one inviting more Mal friends than him! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The fact that the Mals are out to conquer the world (I truly believe they will one day soon) cannot be the only reason for this phenomenon, right? And I am sure it is not the case of new convert trying to prove that she's as good as any. This is a bit of a puzzle really.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Having confessed to this Mal madness. I have to say this. I don't like Avial (Although I can make a good Avial) I am very wary of young men who've never stepped out of Kerala till they are 21. Like one my friend rightly said most of them are "vaayinokkal parties" (for exact translation turn to the Mal next to you). For the life of me I can't figure out why women can't ring temple bells in God's own country! And Mal friends are fun. Mal families is a different matter altogether. It is like the difference between being tourist and an emigrant :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-12074470985371129572010-05-03T22:12:00.001+05:302010-05-03T22:12:59.835+05:30Must take a breakAll I have these days rant, rant and more rant :(Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26685922.post-26358381567156102062010-04-22T17:07:00.004+05:302010-04-22T17:34:56.924+05:30Angry young woman<div>People / things that make me feel very violent these days</div><div><br /></div><div>1) Mothers who complain about their husbands' lack of house training but insist on baby sitting their 25 year old sons.</div><div>2) Media feigning ignorance on the whole IPL drama while anyone who followed it right from the start would know how rotten it was to start with.</div><div>3) Young men acting like little boys who can't pull up their own knickers.</div><div>4) Mothers who walk up to other mothers and say you are doing a bad job.</div><div>5) People who think it is the easiest thing to work from home. </div><div>6) Bad customer service at every turn.</div><div>7) Bangalore's development.</div><div>8) The thought that Miss T might have to spend her adulthood with no trees and no water for the most part.</div><div>9) Schools that charge 2 lakh rupees for a pre-nursery admission and Rs 4500 per month as van fees!</div><div>10) The heat. Which I suspect is the main cause for 1-9</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Abhiprayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10392758058854056981noreply@blogger.com2