I usually start writing a post after a lot of thought and with a title in mind. However this happens to be one of those times when I have neither thought much nor have a title to write about.

With every new day time seems to pass by. It makes me feel as if I’m growing up, quite against my wishes. It makes me feel that the days when someone else took responsibility for me are way down the lane. As if it’s all me from now on.

Another year and I shall have completed my post-graduation. I know that I am passionate about science. Half of me acknowledges the fact that it is where my future battles lie. But then there’s this other half that is stuck in a warp, which knows not what is best and whether a PhD is the way to go. This other part also doesn’t know what is better either. I feel like Larry in Maugham’s Razor’s Edge who wishes to travel and learn many things, read many books, see places and meet different people. It’s the part that wishes to make a difference and doesn’t know whether being a scientist is the best way to go about it.

I find no other words other than that by Shakespeare to compare and the irony is that I looked up this words because of a dialogue in a hindi movie which I found true to my situation.

To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to dye, to sleepe
No more; and by a sleepe, to say we end
The Heart-ake, and the thousand Naturall shockes
That Flesh is heyre too? ‘Tis a consummation
Deuoutly to be wish’d. To dye to sleepe,
To sleepe, perchance to Dreame;….

-Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (Act III, Scene I)

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I might be already quite late in declaring MTV’s “Reality” Show Splitsvilla as bogus and a mockery of air time but there’s still a lot to be said.

SG seems to have already done the honours of trashing the show after managing to view the whole of it but I shall be commenting on the basis of the 5 mins (including the commentary that Ranvijay was giving plus the advertisements) that I coerced myself to watch because of the drinks break that was going on in the Eng-SA test match.

Right, so as it must be pretty evident by now, the show is a waste of not only air time but also your and my time. Basically there are these two guys (who look completely desperate to get a girl, not to mention that they’re nowhere as half as good-looking as the girls that the show manages to catch) who decide which girls get to date them on the basis of a lot of mean back-bitching and elimination (a-la “The Weakest Link“).

All this seems normal doesn’t it? Well yes, but what is not understood (maybe only by certain nincompoops like me) is that why do the girls even wish to stay in the show after seeing the guys who would without doubt be unable to get past even the first question of SRK’s Kya aap….. game show (which has been a flop in it’s own ways, but I’ll let Aamir write about that in his blog). Well it seems that not only do the girls intend to stay in the show, they even do stuff like strip to bare essentials and get photographed in swimwear to catch the eye.

However, I must mention here that out of the 10 odd females present on the show, there was one smart one who decided to vote herself out (thank god she had brains). The show editors however wanted the audience to view it differently and hence put in some voice-overs suggesting that the particular female was regretting her decision

I must also add that Ranvijay’s baldy pal; who revels in being able to hurl profanity at the drop of a hat (or hair) seem to be the ones having all the fun on the show, getting to wear cool stuff and strut around as if no one dare touch them. I’d particularly like to watch Mr. Baldy do some ‘reality shows’ with him having to do some acts.

So coming back to where I was, this show is indeed a sham and a shame. A shame to the sensibilities of an aura known as the “Indian female” who as it is, is having a tough time sorting out the difficulties that work and society seem to so relentlessly throw at her. Long time ago (back when I was in school), this classmate of mine had remarked in a moral science discussion that the biggest threat to a woman was another woman. It’s a comment that is as easily forgotten as it is true. It’s something that I’ve carried on with me for a long time, ruminating it to different degrees before accepting it and this situation is no better.

I guess the whole decision of the world being a better place for women stands with women alone and no one else.

So as always, I seem to have ended on a note completely different from the one I started out with. Maybe this is how puritans are…or maybe I just think too much.

Seen on a shoe shop advertisement screen.

“Freedom for your sole”

I kinda liked the pun. :)

Moving on….sometimes shopping can be a huge nirvana; especially when the government pays you a huge sum to keep studying something over and over until it seeps down your cranium and when your parents feel guilty when you turn to the government’s money for spending and hence stock you up with more money.

Big brands seem to have gone crazy nowadays. I came across T-shirts selling for 850 rupees just because they had the words “Chelsea F.C” or “Liverpool F.C” written across the front. No, they weren’t the official jerseys plus who roots for pathetic clubs like Chelsea and Liverpool (losers :P).

I’ve spent two months here watching a lot of movies. I can perhaps write 10 review posts in total if I wrote one for each. I know that 10 is a pathetic number but going by my standards I would’ve ended up watching about 2 movies in 4 months.

I’ve lost a book on Haiku (worth Rs. 599) and my Creative soundproof earphones (No, they only block outside noise!)

I probably love fly work more than anything else. I hate doing mundane cloning and protein work but I guess no one does pure genetics anymore. Hence I’m ending my training period here learning some basic cloning stuff. Come October and I’ll be knee deep in application shit and the only thing keeping me going would be dev. bio and fly work in some picturesque part of Europe that has museums and art galleries to last me a lifetime.

Oh! Talking about art, this place has some great art from all over India. Click here to check out the paintings, graphic painting and murals. Unfortunately, the one I absolutely love is not featured on the site. Maybe, I’ll take a pic sometime and post it for all to see.

That’s it from me. A 6-inch sub and a chocolate mousse is all that is required to lift fallen spirits. Anyone listening?

Hallu Ma!

Huh?

Hallu, hallu karna.

Hallu?!?

Hallu se band karna.

*giggles follow*

Conversation with shopkeeper after having “allegedly” slammed the door of the refrigerator. Also a direct result of mixing of vernaculars and foreign languages that routinely happens on mixing development without education.

Distraction can be easy to find when life seems all messed up and miserable.

P.S:  In case you’re still wondering as to what the hell he meant… it would roughly translate into “shut the door carefully you dimwit!”

Just another of the many passing thoughts I’ve had in the past few days.

We got through life hiding so much of what we really are. Or maybe hiding is not the right word, maybe we just don’t show who we are most of the times. We go through lives being what people want us to be, what people expect us to be and then soon we lose ourselves.

We lose our identity, we no longer remember who we were or what we were to become. We forget that during our innocent childhoods we always dreamt of not being like that snobbish uncle or that selfish cousin. At times we are so overwhelmed with the prospect of ourselves that we no longer regret that we really have become someone else. Someone we would loathe if we saw him in the movies, someone we would condemn on the streets.

It’s hard trying to hold onto your wishes, it’s tough because of change that is unstoppable, because of society, because of us. It’s hard and yet it’s something worth striving for. However, increasingly I’ve noticed that we find it okay to leave behind what we wanted to be. We leave behind all the good we were born with, the trust, the honesty and we accept all of lives vices.

I don’t know how many really wake up to the reality and how they face it even if they do. I don’t know how much of it is reversible, all the damage that we do as we go through life. All the hurt and pain we accrue, all the love we shed. I don’t know whether really can go back to what we truly were before we ate the apple.

…and yet we all look for it. We look for that missing kindness, that helping hand, that assuring smile because when the day is done and you’ve had the meal your money has bought you still have some space left inside you that needs to be filled.

Satan thy form is ignorance.

A leisurely morning with a gentle yet calming breeze soothing both your body and mind. I look for that someone who should’ve been beside me for a hug, for that caress, for that warmth of touch, for that whiff of perfume. There is but only my thoughts reverberating in the hollow that the day of sabbath has so effectively produced.

A day when I shouldn’t have been at the lab, but the cramped quarters and the lack of friends directs me there. I skip breakfast and lunch while ending up smelling of bacterial cultures. A day when the concern for one’s friends takes top priority and I end up forgetting that I have troubles of my own.

A day with few hours spent ruminating over certain lines that weren’t required to be spoken. A song from a transistor that brings back fond memories yet is not free from its share of irony. When tiredness is more welcome than thoughts and actions.

A night that is not only the end but also the beginning to another week. A dialogue that details the hate in the hearts of few. A silent prayer that defines hypocrisy.

A sleep I wish I wouldn’t wake up from.

Weird things happen in this world…seriously!

Giggs

In what can arguably be one of the best seasons in a long time for Manchester United there is only one player who stands out for me. Who might not have scored as many goals as Ronaldo or Rooney and might not even have started as many games as compared to a new entrant like Nani but who’s dedication to the game and to his team is beyond gratitude.

I salute Ryan Giggs, one of the two players to have played for a club all his life (the other being Jason Dodd of Southampton). If you wish to pin-point the difference between the two sides and the ultimate result of the UCL final you must compare the spot-kicks taken by Giggs and Terry. The difference is evident in their walk to the spot and their poise. Arguably people might say that JT had the win in mind, but mind you, that when Giggs walked up, the game was in Golden Goal and it was imperative that he should score for ManU to retain hopes of winning and he did just that.

Going back to the last game of the EPL against Wigan, it was Giggs again who put the game beyond Chelsea and Wigan and made sure that there was no way that Chelsea would exchange the replica for the real thing. In a season where he has been benched as many times as he has started a match and when ManU have found remarkable depth in their squad in the form of Nani, Ronaldo and Park Ji-Sung…Ryan Giggs has still managed to show why Sir Alex still keeps him ready for those electrifying late bursts.

I first had a glimpse of Giggs in 2002-03 when I had just began watching the Premier League (thanks to the newly installed cable tv at home) and in the first match that I saw, Giggs struck a pwerful left-footer from close to the centre straight at the goal (which was parried away by the keeper). That shot still remains as fresh in my mind as the tea I’ve just had for brunch. His left foot still remains one of the deadliest with his ability to curve the ball eitherways and his bursts of speed alongwith his spot-on passing. Add to it a work ethic that matches the best in the game and fairplay (which means that he would almost never dive for a penalty) and you have a man who would require a standing ovation each time he walks on the pitch.

I might have never watched the “Busby babes” in action, but even if they were as good as said and written, I’d still have Giggs play among them.

So there it goes, for a player who has bettered Sir Bobby Charlton’s record (with a staggering 759 appearances in a red shirt). You deserve every moment of the victory and we as the Red Devils fans can’t stop to sing:

Come on you reds, come on you reds

Just lose your bottles and use your heads

For 90 minutes, we’ll let them know

We’re Man United and here we go!

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love)

I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-Elizabeth Bishop

Current Song: The Scientist (Coldplay)

…I really wish I could go back to the start. Life can be very ironic in parts.

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