Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Diya aur Baati

Im tired of lifting my spirits up... there has got to be light at the end of the tunnel.. !
Where the fuck is it?

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Fetish Feminism

Im surprised at the uproar Indra Nooyi's recently published article has caused. My facebook wall is full of updates from my fellow female workers. Today's feminist world has all kinds of views on that article. Why? Why do we pick apart every female oriented article. There was a similar situation when Lean In was released - a book by Sheryl Sandberg on Women, Work, and the Will to lead.

I have been in that situation when we (women who believe they are smart, independent, career focussed, pretty, a good guy worthy, etc) feel the need to defend themselves from all the traditions and atrocities barked upon women historically. But more recently after going through life, having a reasonably long career span, and being in the mid-management of a company with clear roads to be a part of the senior management in the near future, I could care less. There are barriers. There does and could exist a glass ceiling. But when you are not there experiencing it then SHUT UP. Why opine on things you can never be a part of or havent experienced. Its not politics. We have made it our job to criticize politics. Politicians are the ones meant to be in limelight. Women arent. They are just women. Why opine every time a woman speaks

But a guy friend recently pin pointed that we stereotype ourselves more than anyone else. I felt the urge to very cynically respond back to him and make a curt remark on his pointless opinion. But he was right. He is right. We, women, talk more about ourselves than any man probably has ever done.


Friday, May 23, 2014

From the ashes a fire shall be woken..


There was a reason why my blog's tagline was, "...Not all those who wander are lost.."

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
- J. R. R. Tolkien

I cant wait. 

Sunday, May 4, 2014

The King and the Pawn

I played Chess recently after a very loooong time. Two decades ago, I had a chess tutor come home to teach some basic moves. It used to be big in Tamil Nadu during my growing years. I dont remember much of what I learnt coz it was for a very short period of time, about 5 weeks. And then we moved out of Madurai. I was sad I couldnt complete the training, especially coz my chess teacher was a super good looking south indian dude. I wish I had continued.

I enjoyed playing chess last week. Made some dumb moves, some strategies didnt pan out the way I wanted them to. But it was good. I undermine myself and get scared away from things. A good reminder to go get it anyways. If you fail, who really cares.

There is one person I wouldnt want to play against. hmph! I think he is really smart and chess is certainly his thing. He is the chess kinda guy and hates losing. 

The Odyssey

Almost 30. As I look back nothing substantial has happened, but then again oh my oh my .. so much has happened. I have learnt to wipe my ass, ride a cycle, have sex, and lie. Those early years and the memories attached with it are pivotal to my life's journey or should I say my epic voyage or the odyssey. 

A Pageant of Poems: I hope Mom hasnt thrown this X standard ICSE book away from my big black trunk of memorabilia. Little at that time did I value what the ICSE course was training me to be, teaching me through these verses. I studied the Merchant of Venice for two years. I wish I had given it a little bit more importance and felt it a layer deeper than I did. Nevertheless, there was this one poem out of the many that I distinctively remember and recollect even when I disliked poems and learnt them coz I had to. It was Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Even at that age this poem moved me and made me think. I related to this Ulysses guy. I liked how strong the story telling was and enjoyed how many scribblings I had on the white space around the two page long poem. Each word in the poem had a history, a story to tell. This was the only poem and poet that I remember to date. Its strange.

Its strange. I dont know why I think of it today. Like I had mentioned earlier life has come a full circle. There is meaning to everything, there is a purpose to all. How a book about the Indian subcontinent led to this discovery. So apt and so precise.. this poem. Its strange, but it makes sense now.


It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees:  All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea:  I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honor'd of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life.  Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains:  But every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bounds of human thought.
 

This is my son, mine own Telemachos,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle-
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone.  He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port, the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas.  My mariners,
Souls that have tol'd and wrought, and thought with me-
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads - you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all:  but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes:  the slow moon climbs:  the deep
Moans round with many voices.  Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be that we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved heaven and earth; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.



To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

The X-Man

I am extremely extremely happy today as I write this. A good friend once told me to write here only when Im happy and to leave all the melancholy for the diaries. And so is the case today.

There comes a time when one is at peace with oneself. When one realizes that they have gone through a full circle and find themselves in the same spot that they were in as young passionate kids but after a whole lot of gyan and wisdom. No, Im not there yet. But something tells me, it sure is going to be a great journey starting just about now.

Happy realizations is what I call it. A curtain lifter, clear of smoke, splendidly wrapped comes a pristine realization of "screw you". I am certain this is something everyone must have felt at some point in their lives for someone or for somethings. Its strange though with all the damned conversations that have happened, it took the visual of someone else realizing it for me to convince me. The candid desperation is written all over it. The respect for the past is a misnomer. It is merely a story for all the jokes and laughs...even if it just brings a gaze or a chuckle, its a story well used. Living in today's hard core capitalist world where the rich are very rich and poor are very poor, if you know what I mean.

I have many theories of my own. They make sense in my head and help me figure things out. One such is the onion peel theory. I will certainly not go into the detail of it here. But that core of innocence..sweet, gentle touch..honest smile and a very giving heart still holds true. I see glimpses of it and its beautiful. I hope the theory bears some truth.

There is so much to do and learn and such little time. I need to start with switching my job. I love my company and everything that comes with it. I doubt I will ever find a job that fits my strengths so well, but there is a need to explore a little bit more before I turn too old and being young isnt an excuse anymore..

For the reference above about the rich and the poor, check out this video. Nothing really new, but a really cool way of drilling information into my slow head that understands visuals better.