These are a few of my favourite things...

Today feels like I particularly need to remind myself of things I love. Things that are worth living for.
So here goes(mostly in random order):
1. Friends.
2. Friends.
3. Friends.
4. Architecture.
5. India.
6. Cricket fever.
7. Phuchka...anytime,anywhere.
8. Tea.
9. The smell of wet earth after the first shower – can never get enough of it.
10. The unsurpassed beauty of the Himalayas.
11. Edinburgh.
12. Laphroig – Single malt scotch.
13. Asterix Comics.
14. Cheeeeeeese.
15. Inexpensive fashion.
16. Beautiful saris.
17. Ice cream (apart from butterscotch flavour).
18. Witty banter.
19. Sex and the City.
20. A long drive with a picnic basket (best enjoyed if I am not doing the driving).
21. Theatre.
22. Funny little cousins.
23. Mehendi.

Karthik Calling Karthik

Whether it was the fact that I too,had an imaginary friend as a child or simply Farhan Akhtar’s genuine, Mr. Dependable with a quiet sense of humour we are all trying to find character,I do not know, but KCK was certainly the best movie I have seen in a while. It was almost like the characters were speaking your mind with an uncanny familiarity.No rose coloured glasses,yet the puns and jokes that keep us alive and make life worth living! A girl who has everything,yet nothing – who is not what the world thinks,she is infact still that simple girl happiest with the simplest things in life.Yet she puts on a brave front to survive the corporate world,heck the world in general ... for its just not acceptable to break,to show emotions. And then there is the one guy thats not trying to act smart with you, and whats more,he chooses the perfect spot for coffee and the perfect time to propose - in the rain. Place and time.The two most important things in life.
Karthik, mythologically even,the perfect bachelor,yet there is a ruthless warrior in him.He takes his time , writes emails to her for years,adores her through glass doors.She is not one to wait.She knows life is short,shes a go getter. Sometimes misunderstood for that very reason but isn’t it all about here and now? Who knows if we will even see tomorrow? Havent we seen enough already?
Somehow you just understand these characters...somehow as if psychizophrenia is just an excuse to portray a lot of other dynamics in life. About frustration on feels at not being apprectiated for their true potential. About confidence that can make or break a person. About how we alone are responsible for our actions,how the mind can play games of Jekyll and Hyde.
Life is a Rubix cube.But we face it with humour.Dialogues like “chee wine toh ladkion ka drink hai” , “I have been alone- its overrated” , “pathti nahin na tumse?” or perhaps “tumne to meri puri family ka quota pi liya!” that sticks with you long after you've watched the movie.Finally someone makes bollywood movies we can relate to, jump at situations and say – hey...Ive been there!
Farhan Akhtar is class. A different class. And in the middle of all that,he even manages to throw in the boy next door hotness factor!

Aisle seats

Being an Indian woman can feel like a lifetime of being sat on an aisle seat of a very long distance flight.You somehow feel responsible for a row of others next to you.Like being scared to doze of for too long,lest someone might need the toilet.Or having to lean back as trays of food are passed over you.And constantly having to watch your space,keeping all parts of your body tightly wrapped around yourself making sure all that walk down the aisle dont bump into you,accidentally or otherwise.You dont really relax as you have been taught from the very onset of childhood,to accomodate other people with a smile.Put other people first,even.You see it being done by your mother,your mother's mother,even her mother.And you take the aisle seat without thinking.Infact,youre really glad you have a seat to begin with.Anywhere.Beside anyone.
Does it matter,cause isnt the very first lesson you were taught was to adjust to circumstances?Infact,its so much of a habit that you dont even think about it anymore.Perhaps this is adaptability.Or maybe plain lack of character.Whatever it is, it must be genetic.Just on very rare occasions,I dare ask if appreciation is,as well.And in those sporadic naps dream what it must be like to fly a plane.

Country-wise

Sometimes your country can make you feel like a million bucks.That feeling, is worth any exchange rate in the world.It is not in anything special.Perhaps in the smell of the soil that makes your crisp white shirt look - well,not so white.Or in the coolness of the red sandstone that marks a history that just cannot be erased no matter how many try. Or in the randomness of a situation where a little crowd gathers to give you directions so you make your appointment on time.Or when a stranger changes their mind as you say "Adjust kar dijiye na bhaiya!"(Could you please adjust,brother!).Or perhaps, even, when for no apparent reason whatsoever, a eunuch walks up to you at the traffic lights and even for the paltry sum you shove into their hands they wish for you "har bigra hua kaam ban jaye,beti!"(may things that went wrong for you fall into place) making you wonder if any amount of money could possibly be enough to buy that wish.
It is your land,your right to live and work.No questions asked,none answered.It is 62 years old and everything is not right.But who is,in the prime of their youth?Have we not all been through that rebellious,unruly,undecided phase when we were screaming at the world to hear us out?
A fresh perspective can make one appreciate what they never noticed before. Have things changed so much?Or perhaps its me that has changed.Now,there is calm.None of the restlessness of youth.And the knowledge of a world beyond.
And then,there is acceptance. People accept their family for what they are,their friends, a husband or a wife even.Why then,is it hard to do the same for their country? Perhaps because too much acceptance kills ambition.All is not well.There are some things that are,always were.And the rest is getting there.And perhaps we should'nt wait for another movie to tell us that.

If all the worlds a stage...

Its hard to acknowledge one's feelings. How mant feelings does one go through in their lives that they learn to ignore? And how many times does it actually register in the brain?From a young age, and then as we get older, it turns into a habit and one doesnt even know they are doing it anymore.Perhaps it is a survival strategy,for its hard to rein the mind.Harder even,to accept.And n the midst of everything uncertain you just instinctively know that something might work.But how many of us do anything about it?Are we not all puppets in society waiting for the script,to tell us what to do? To say the right thing, at the right time.There is always a fear that someone might miss a line.How long should you wait for your cue?Is that not living you life on someone elses terms?Is it not the duty of a good actor to jump to the occasion?Perhaps your co actor has forgotten his lines,maybe he is distracted,maybe he has lost his feelings too...you will never know if you never try.

Its the times you say a dialogue out of turn that probably sums up everything you are.It is a risk you have to take sometimes.Your audience might accept what they see,they might not.You make yourself vulnerable and it might cost dearly.Eitherway,the show must go on..

Acute angles

Perhaps it is in the very essence of being a woman,to be drawn to the forbidden.At first it was a fruit.But she took a chance.Man followed.There was creation.

Acute angles were forbidden through the formidable years of design studio.But one wants what one cannot get.Acute angles are bad design.Difficult to maintain,unreasonable,awkward spaces in a building.They do nothing structurally -in fact, often cannot even be justified. But is it not the odd corners life pushes you into that makes you the man you are?And suddenly, the building is not what it seems. There is mystery, an element of surprise,perhaps its not all smooth on the surface,but undoubtedly interesting.It deals with the situation it is in and demands its share of attention.It evokes curiosity. And we all know boredom can kill a being.
So to all architects, man or woman, there is no right or wrong.Or good or bad.For somebody will know what you set out to do. Someone will build your dream.Somebody will understand that you have explored and trust you for having done it. And then perhaps,life will not be happy or sad,but surely interesting.