Gaga: Not just born this way

                        No, No! I am not saying that she has picked up a persona, she is who she is. I am not a very big little monster (if you know what I mean), I am a fan. I love her music, I love her art (and yes, I do think that what she creates is art!) Lady Gaga, she is a visionary, I think someone I can see having the same greatness of Madonna. I am not comparing her to Madonna, Madonna is my god, but she (Gaga) is my religion.



                         



But this blog is not about the glamorous part of her, no way! I mean I couldn't comment on that. I am too simple minded for that. I am going to talk about her, the little that I know, and more importantly, why I like her. I fell in love with her with her first album. I will be honest, a friend introduced me to her, with 'Bad Romance'; and the first time I saw it, I was taken aback, shocked and not exactly pleased. But within 3 days, and I remember this distinctively, I was singing... "My lashes are dry purple tear drops I cry" in the loo while having a bath. She got me through some of the most difficult times of my life.
                     
 Most of the people in my life do not understand my craze with this female. Most find her an odd artist, weird and eccentric (and this is me being polite of course). In fact my own sister was not able to comprehend why I adore her. She has mocked me, asked me why I would ever listen to something that sounds like noise? My bf has made faces, my mother asks me why there is such a lack of clothing in her closet, and so on. I think I have painted a wholesome picture here. But there is a honestly about her that is just amazing.
                       

Let me tell you what got me started on this blog, she was on air here, on VH1. Her stories from her life were not over the top. What I liked were that they were simple, a thought about her dad, a story of being bullied, of not having a voice, of wanting to be someone, of struggle of growth, of survival. It resonated with me in a simple way. her language was not the obvious, yet simple. The way she could explain her emotions, you knew that she was talking about herself, not something that was made up by the PR team. Yes, I know it was to promote her new album but the essence was her. It was about her awkward childhood, her love for her grandmother, the simplicity with which she looked up to Beyonce when she was a nobody. It resonates with me. There is a difference between being drunk with power and telling your story. I heard her telling her story.

                 This is starting to sound really soppy isnt it? Lord, I can be soppy. But not the lady. She really is a 'Lady', and I think everyone needs to be a little Gaga. I loved it when she said "That’s how I get home, its this jacket". The fact that for her a memory with a garment is a sense of belonging reflects who I would love to be. Right now, I belong almost no where, but I do have my memories. This is why I love her, her strength to be able to believe "I am going to marry the dark", reflects her mindset. It is about what you do wwith what you have, and she is for me just that.













 That is why even in my boring political, half boring crazy existence I find her as one of greatest salvation. People wear jewels and feel proud, she ears her quirkiness, she dares to be herself, and there in lies her beauty and the source of admiration.   Listen to her vision, look at her lyrics, dare to be different, learn who you are, turn the world inside out and downside up and life will be fine. Mine is getting there. This one is about her magic, and hope you can feel it too :)
                          
 

Excellence: Is it all that matters?

                      Guess what I have just been laughing at? Three Idiots. The 'silencer' speech just ended and the whole 'these ideals don't work in the real world' deal! I love the movie, like almost all Indians. Then again I am one of the leaders of the  'emotional wagon'. But on the verge of starting my actual career, I do have to ask, how much is excellence worth in the 'real' world?'


                   
  To be honest with you, I have no interest in the whole over the top excellence deal. I don't really care whether I am an over the top journalist, or if everyone knows my name. I in fact am one of those people who likes her life in a certain manner, a job that pays for my needs and my dreams, people I care about around me, loads to eat, chocolates and books. But the problem with this is that most people tell me I lack excellence and that I am not really motivated. I lack a drive to achieve excellence according to most! Sad, I know. I might even agree with those who say this. But who is to say that excellence is the answer?

                     The person who most recently gave me a lecture about this is one who really feels that she is giving her two hundred percent to her job. And to be fair, she does. Here are the facts, she is well known in her sphere of influence, gets bylines by the dozen and is found quite intimidating by most. She also hates her boss, wants to progress further but is constrained by her personal and certain regretful practical problems and is a little lost in the personal sphere of her life. Another one I know who loves his job is fast losing someone he cares for.

                    Neither of them see it as a problem in their pursuit of excellence. But who is to say that their idea of excellence is the right one? I mean there has to be more to life than excellence at what one does. In a world of cut throat of competition (I mean even Paris Hilton has competition about being the dumbest blonde!), is there no one who sees that a sense of happiness is something that can lead to an excellent existence? Or am I the one who needs to open her eyes and realize that a blind pursuit of power and position (and I am not talking about the shenanigans that the Congress or Mamta is investing in) all that matter?

Guilt: A underhanded emotion

                        I love myself. I have known people who are obsessed with themselves. I am not one of them (sad as it may sound), but I do adore myself. So much so that I believe that I am a very self centered person (one of my close friends accused me of being so just the other day!). But there are so many in my life who believe that I have a whole lot of good in me and that I am wonderful (sounds like I am full of myself doesn't it?). Well, this isn't about me, it is about this emotion that I often find myself experiencing: Guilt.

    I dont know much about others but I usually feel guilty maybe 5 times a day minimum. When i was little and I used to go to school, I used to feel guilty because I could and kids living on the street couldn't. I feel guilty when I see that there are people who are standing in the rain and do not have a proper shelter. I am what some of my friends call naive, but I see it as humanitarian, but very honestly, I just feel guilty. I`feel guilty when some kid comes up to me at the signal and says that he/she hasn't eaten all day and is hungry. I usually give them food while this friend frowns. I can't explain it to her. Yes, some buy drugs with it, it is a scam and what not, but I just feel guilty.

                 I don't feel guilty for seeking revenge. That's my diabolical side I suppose. I feel a cold satisfaction when I see people who have hurt me suffer. But, there are a number of times when I find myself doing things I would rather not do because of guilt. I end up not getting some things cause I know how much people around me have sacrified for me to reach a position. I know a number of people whose actions are motivated by guilt. Yet somehow the world looks upon guilt as a very negative emotion. I wonder why.


      Not to hurt anyone's sentiments, but one of the world's biggest religion is based on the feeling of guilt. Your savior died for you, so how can you not follow? Sounds familiar? Now, I am not stepping on any toes, I really think all religions are equal. My focus is on this concept of repentance and guilt. One cannot deny that it is a very powerful motivator. Parents tell kids, we work so hard, all for you, why don't you study? I mean it is a guilt trip of sorts. You cannot deny it.

                  Then why is that as soon as someone mentions guilt, that I end of feeling that the emotion is negative. It has this sort of context to it, something that has been fed to me since I was child perhaps? I think it is an emotion that should be celebrated, it leads to repentance. It makes a person think, to feel bad and then motivates one to do something about it.
                    Yes, it also makes suckers out of people like me, but what can you say. We are very lovable for it, and maybe if you feel more guilty, if you could turn your mind around about the concept of guilt, then you will too be a lovable if a little gullible! 

Myth= Mithya: Continuation of the bucket list

                 Being born in a country which had certain theological issues right from the time of it's birth, a person learns to not only respect religion, but also approach it with caution. I was born a Hindu, studied in a Catholic establishment, and while living in Delhi picked up on the Sikh roots and religion also. I am not an atheist (although, according to my dad, only an atheist can have the tolerance level I have), but I have a certain level of skepticism where all religions are concerned (not to offend anybody). Reading Myth = Mithya was a fun experience for all the above reasons and more.


 Before I give you my view point let me warn you, I have a bias where the author of the book, Devdutt Patnaik is concerned (I was at one of his talks, and the guy just blew me away with his logical approach to something that is considered controversial and too complex to understand in lay man's terms. Obviously, NOT TRUE!), but I would also like to point out that I read his book only as a book, and not as his book, and therein lies the difference!
       
                  The book cover shows a goddess, a symbol that most of growing up in India will be familiar with, even if one is not Hindu. The book talks about the basic roots of Hindu Mythology and tries to break it down completely. A mammoth task, or so it would seem, given that there are so many gods and goddesses that are worshiped in the religion. But the genius of Patnaik lies in the fact that he approaches it at the basics, which in HIndu mythology comprises of Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh (fyi- Mahesh aka Shiva is my favorite lord. He is fair, just, and the destroyer. A simple yet just yet cool god!, again no offense to all the believers out there). These are the premises of the book which has three sections. The author has been able to break down all the stories that one has heard and more around each god in the respective sections in the book.
     

The most obvious characteristics of the book include that it is well researched but also compact, and believe me that is no easy given the amount of information that is at one's disposal on the subject matter. Also, the book uses examples along with images, so that one does not get lost. There are visuals to support most, and there are anecdotes that gives a reader the necessary break from the overall essence. Patnaik makes an attempt to break down the barrier around the myths, and as the book suggests explains how the Mithya, that is, the lies around each has evolved.

             I would recommend the book to anyone who is not overtly sensitive about their respective religion, or anyone who is open to various interpretations on the subject matter. People with colorful imagination would also enjoy the book, and the rhythm allows it to be an easy read. A different approach and a simple design allow the book to avoid becoming a cliche on the symbolic interpretations of religious texts as so many others have. I enjoyed the book, and I hope that others who read it also do the same.

Nerds: Why dating them can be not so bad

              I don't know how many of you are dating out there. Not to rub your face-in-it, but I am kind of dating one (and yes, dating is a pain-in-your-ass, pardon my french!). I am not here to talk about my experiences in this, sticky field which most men believe is a ticking time bomb and females believe is slow torture (yet everybody seems to either engage or want to engage in one!) but to talk about something which I guess only some will be able to relate to. Dating a nerd. Yes, I am. And to be honest, it is fun! Let me describe him. Awkward walk. Big nose. Looms over me. Talks very little. Uses words that I don't understand. Talks shop all the time. Loves to explain things. Quiet. Well-read. Loved studying. My very own nerd. Dating one isn't easy, but here are some of the best things about dating one (you know the crazy ass things that makes you stick around n all).

Patience: One of the best things about nerds is that they are very very patient. In fact, I have till date not met a nerd who was impatient or had a easy your-pushing-me-too-far point. I know it sounds trivial, but for a person like me, dating a guy who is patient is amazing. He can take my tantrums, doesn't run when I ramble (I guess that is more cause he doesn't know how to!) and can endure all my hyper activity without blinking an eye-lid (and that is very very difficult, just ask any of my teachers or better yet, my mom). Having a patient guy is such a help. And he wouldn't mind waiting if your running late either.

Rock solid advice: Another amazing thing about nerds is that they usually have an analytical mind. They are the best people to approach when you are confused  (in my case twice every hour), and just get some sane advice at the end of the day that will make you less lost in your life. Nerds also, usually, have a vast pool of knowledge about varied subjects and this helps them help you make informed decisions.
Quirks: This is why they are oh so adorable. All nerds have these little twitches and quirks. Mine talks with his hands, and makes this really exasperated face when I bug him, (which I do often enough), and hates it when I go around playing with his big nose (yes I mean nose). Now that I have mentioned it, I love pressing his nose, and making the beep noise, like car or something. This usually bugs him to death, and I do love the look. And it is, going to repeat myself here, adorable. Obsessive about movies, his quirks are quiet fun at times.
Hidden qualities: This is believe me the best thing about dating a nerd. You never know what is about to come next. There are so many layers to these people, that you get to discover something every day. And it is oh-so-difficult to not get pleasantly surprised at times. Having these hidden qualities is how the nerd is able to score brownie points over the tough guy, or the baseball player, who usually are easy to figure out (no offense to the tough ones or players out there!) Usually nerds have more than one sides and that is the best part of dating him. Discovering all the angles is fun!
            

Godfather: Deja Vu in so many ways

                            I don't know how many of you have read the book by Mario Puzo, The Godfather, or seen the movie by the same name. There is a particular part of the movie that I found particularly gruesome, and although I enjoyed the book, I completely could not accept the distate that I felt when I read it. Imagine when it came true in real life for me. But I get ahead of myself, (as usual, I do love to rant it would seem!)



                            Let me describe this extract from the scene. It made me almost put the book down. Imagine that. It a scene that reflects the power of the godfather, how the underworld manipulates, cajoles and then scares a man, (a producer at that) to their bidding. What especially put me off was not the terror that was created by it. That amazed me, but what did repulse me was the description of blood, the mist that added to it and the fact that he is covered in the warm sticky red liquid, almost bathed in it when he wakes up! I mean the image was just too grotesque for me to accept.

                        I woke to the exact same thing! Well, almost the same. What woke me up was movement in my bed. It was a lazy lazy afternoon, a Sunday, a holiday. I love my day off in the week. It is the only day when I get to wake up at 2 pm. A lot many people have told me that it isn't healthy, my father screams at me through the telephone, when I answer groggily at 1 30 pm. We live in different cities, allowing me to give my dad heart palpitations and still get away with it every week! Coming back to story, (I am digressing a lot today, ain't I?), as I mentioned before, what woke me up was movement and flutter in my bed. Now My bed is usually cluttered, and I thought that my foot had gotten tangled or something that woke me up. Imagine as I untangled myself from the blanket, I felt something something wet, not just on the blanket, but also on my nightshirt, against my skin.
                Thinking my water bottle had leaked, I opened my protesting eyes, lifting my heavy eyelids, looking for the culprit that I thought must be crushed somewhere. Imagine when I saw a hazy mess of red and grey on my bed (I can barely see without my glasses). I groped for my glasses, shook my head, sure that I was still half asleep or dead or something and the next second I was jumping out of bed, screaming murder and trying to get away from my bed as fast as I could. At 8 am. On a Sunday.
              The pigeon that had been fluttering, screamed harder than me, if that is a possibility and fell from the bed, quickly scampered under it still screaming. My flat mates banging on the door, I tried to close my still open mouth, pleading my heart to slow down. Gingerly opening the door, I stepped out, explained as my flat mates went into my room. No one would believe me u see! Like you could make this up! Anyways, I re-entered my room and surveying my bed. It was a pool of the poor creature's blood, the wall was splattered with sprays of the same dark shade and my room looked more goth than I would ever want it to.
                       Trying to pry it from under the bed so we could heal it, or aid it was the next task. Not as easy as I would have assumed, it was more difficult to figure out who was more scared. We both screamed, my flatmates screamed, and when we finally got it to move, everybody screamed some more. Finally we called the nearest animal care, they came, they rescued, we cheered, they left!
               What was left behind was just a mess. I scrubbed the floors, the sheets were ruined, the wall still has certain drops of blood that I just can't seem to wash away. It was a Sunday which I will remember forever as the bloody bath day, and one which I wouldn't want to revisit even if it included Hugh Jackman as a phantom in the background.

Godfather: Bucketlist buster

                      Starting the bucket list with this book was easy. It is a simple read, yet the complexities of it blows my mind. I started reading it because my friend pushed me to do so, and I am so glad I did. The book revolves around a multi-layer plot which Mario Puzo ties up together perfectly. I am not going to talk about the most obvious of the things that most before have said. I am going to talk about what I loved when I read the book. The thing about this book is on the surface it is about, as is obvious by it's name, The Godfather (Vito Corleone) is a man of few words, telling silences and great perceptions; but it devles more deeply into the human psyche, the practicalities of the world, the bonds that human beings form and plays it out to one of the most simple but exciting climaxes I have ever come across. The genius lies, and here I repeat myself, in the simplicity of the book.

                      Vito Corleone is a man who can look into your soul, make you squirm yet one you cannot despise or ignore. The book revolves around him, his family and his experiences in life. The highlight of course is his emerging as the Godfather, but to understand just what it means, Puzo has added a number of characters to ensure that the impact of the title sinks in deep right in beginning of the book. The layers of complexities are bought in by conflicting characters whose vested interests somehow seem parallel.  but the thing that will keep you going is the fast turn of events. Not for a moment will you feel that the book is becoming monotonous and boring.


                 The book manages to steer clear of the various cliches that it could have very easily have fallen into, allowing it to emerge like a unpolished pearl from an ocean of confusing literature about slick Italian mafia. The book treats each character with dignity, allowing it to act and react as it would, allowing it to develop a life of it's own. No character is in disposable, the love is only for the plot. Puzo allows himself to go back and forth between events to keep the reader interested, yet gives enough information to ensure that the reader doesn't feel cheated or confused. The end is complete and leaves one feeling satisfied, yet I would read six other continuations, if each was as enthralling as this was. The epic of Godfather unfolds and grows on the pages, his legacy is clearly developed by his son Micheal and the conflict of family and of practical matters is best captured in Santiano (sunny), who is my favorite because he wears his feelings, and of course his temper, on his sleeves.


                 I would recommend everyone to read the book, even if they have watched the movie. Everyone may love Micheal, but for the real Godfather will always be Vito, a simple man with a mind so complex that one could even fathom imagining it knew everything that was going on.