On brooding

I have nothing to say these days.

Well, I have a lot to say, but nothing I want to put to paper - or more accurately, to the interwebs. Things are currently a bit of a shitshow personally, professionally, and in the politics I follow in two countries, and let's face it, that is pretty much the trifecta of things I tend to write about.

I suppose I could write about how I've suddenly gone from not knowing how to listen to podcasts, to listening to more than half a dozen, over the course of six months. Or I could tell you how someone I love very dearly recently told me that I "choose to build a gender bias in [my] lens," and that it's "time [I] grew out of it." Or I could finally put out that list of pet peeves that's been sitting and growing in my drafts folder for a while now.

But I'm choosing to just brood instead.

So I have nothing to say these days.

And that deserves a blog post all by itself.

Where we force ourselves to end the writer's block

I suppose I should take solace in the fact that I stuck to my two-posts-a-month plan for at least a year. I suppose the streak was bound to end sometime. I could offer the excuse that it's been a crazy, hectic month, and I haven't known if I've been sitting or standing half the time for the past few weeks, but since I'm the only one interested in those excuses, how does it matter?

It was a bit of a doozy of a month, though. I moved apartments - well, technically, on January 31, but it's never just the actual day of moving, is it? It's the week of packing that precedes the move, and the weeks of unpacking that comes after. Luckily, I was very strategic about my moving plans - I made the father come stay with me and do it all. He landed three days before moving day to find I hadn't even started packing, and left three weeks later. Based on those three weeks, I can report that it is just nice to have a parent around to take care of you when you're sick, no matter how old you get (more on getting old later), and I'm pretty sure he now has seen more of the DFW metroplex thanks to all his gallivanting with a college friend who happens to live in the area.

I would also like to report that contrary to the impression the previous paragraph may have given, I am a wonderful daughter who really doesn't get enough credit for doing things like actually getting through an entire dinner with said college friend of the father without once informing him how utterly obnoxious an individual he is.

I write really long sentences.

Moving on. The highlight of February, though, was the weekend after the father left. Actually, let's face it, it's probably the highlight of the year because I'm not sure how anything is supposed to top going to Australia to see India play South Africa in the World Cup and have them actually win the way they did. The trip was something I'd been talking about doing for years, had been met by skepticism by all near and dear ones, made actual, concrete plans for almost nine months ago, and the fact that it all actually worked out is something I'm still finding a little hard to believe.

In other news, my phone is slowly but steadily seeing all its organs fail. No, really, I don't know how else to describe it. Six months ago, the camera stopped working. I mean, I'm in Chicago, clicking photos of the mother, and one second she takes a really nice photo of me; the next, the camera just fails. Then, a month ago, it stopped playing any music files. So how I'm supposed to listen to any Bollywood music, I dunno - especially since no matter how many times I clear my Saavn queue, that darn playlist I made the mistake of listening to two years ago keeps popping back up. So yeah, I might need to replace my phone soon, but I've promised myself a tablet as a birthday gift this year, so munnies will go to that, and I'm being all indecisive about things.

Speaking of. Birthdays. Sigh. The big 3-O is nearly here. Can we have February last forever please? Let this month just... not end.

Triggers

An overheard conversation.

A conversation that made you smile. A conversation that made you furious. A conversation that made you wonder.

Something you saw on the drive to work. A movie you saw. An article you read.

A tweet. A Facebook post. A song on the radio.

Memories. Hopes. Questions you want to ask. Questions you want to answer.

Things you want to say. Things you have to say.

What makes you think? What makes you write?

Where we set goals for this blog

I've been flip-flopping about what to do with this blog for a while now. Struggling to write the annual recap I like to do made me realize just how hard it's become for me to write off late, and I've been wondering if it's worth the effort.

I came very close to shutting down this blog last week, mainly because I was (am) furious with someone who allegedly knows me very well, yet doesn't grasp how important it is to me to keep this blog private from extended family and acquaintances. Having calmed down somewhat, I realized I can't. This blog has been a part of me for too long. It's been a medium for me to vent, to express, to share - and I'm not letting anyone take that away from me.

When I browse through this blog's archives, I find myself liking what I've written in the last two or three years more than what I wrote in the early years. So while my frequency has decreased, the fact I've been writing mostly when I've been overly worked up or emotional about something has helped, I think. At the same time, it isn't very nice to realize I can only write something I won't disapprove of later when I'm either angry or sad.

So here's the thing. I'm going to set myself reminders to blog a minimum of twice a month. It could be anything - a meme, a few quick thoughts on whatever TV show I'm currently doing a marathon watch of, what I lost that particular week. But I'm going to write. And if between those two mandated posts I get worked up about something else and decide to type out a furious rant, well then, that's just a bonus. But I'm going to write.

And if there's no one reading those posts other than the one mother and one friend who are subscribed to this blog by email - well, that's no different from the current situation, so what's there.

That is all. I will go set reminders now. Toodles.

Of something that changed

She was one of the first bloggers I started following when I discovered the world of blogs and Google Reader some, what, seven odd years ago? When I joined twitter a couple of years later, she was one of the first people I looked for and started following there as well.

She was - is - a few years older than me, and since I was still a student at the time, was fascinating to me as a single, working woman. She was independent, and confident, and sassy, and open about her life and relationships in a way I never saw myself being. She wrote beautifully, and I often found things on her blog that I had been thinking about only a few days previously, articulated and thought through in a way that seemed so perfect.

I never reached out to her in any way, beyond perhaps the odd comment on her blog, or a random exchange of tweets. But her thoughts, her writing - they continued to be favorites for a long time.

And then at some point, that changed. I started finding her posts a tad too much. There was bitterness creeping into them, her brand of feminism was becoming a bit too rigid for me, her standards were becoming a bit too high for them. Her accounts of relationships made me feel glad about my continued singlehood, her seemingly increased bitterness made me realise the mother might be right about me ending up a bitter and lonely spinster. She seemed to expect too much from the people around her, and was becoming a bit too caustic for my liking.

I'm not sure if this was true, or if it had always been there and I had just mellowed off-late. But at some point in the last month, I unfollowed her on Twitter. And it was easier than I expected. I still follow her blog, but I'm not how long that will last either.

I'm not sure what prompted a whole post about her. But it feels a little like a relationship - albeit one-sided - that suddenly changed and then soured. And it feels a bit sad.

Stayin' sane

I haven't been happy with the last I-don't-know-how-many blog posts I've churned out. They said what I wanted to say, but not how I wanted to say it, if that makes sense.

Part of it, I think, comes from my desire not to let a almost-two-month-long break from blogging happen again, like it did last year. (Of course, part of it could also be that people have simply stopped commenting or even rating my posts, but I'd like to believe I'm not so dependent on external feedback.) One of my hopes for this year was that I would write more. But somehow, that's not happening - not the way I wanted it to. Even my presence on twitter has reduced dramatically ever since I quit the job - apparently I need a regular structure to my days and something to distract me from for that to happen. So whenever I have something to say, I go ahead and say it without really paying much attention to how it's coming together. Which sucks.

In Orientation earlier this month, the Second Years repeatedly emphasized how crazy the next two years are going to be, with no time to breathe, or anything. As one SY put it, "you'll suddenly realise it's been three months since you spoke to your brother, or emailed your best friend." Eeks. Their point, however, was that all of us need to identify what's important to us, and make sure we block time to do that, be it daily, or weekly, or whatever.

At the time, I wasn't sure what those things would be for me, except for probably keeping in touch with people back home, which honestly, isn't really an option ever since I bought this BlackBerry. But over the last few weeks, I've realised it's this. Blogging. Tweeting. Reading blogs.

This month, while hectic, has been much easier than what things will be like come September. So far, I've managed to make time to go through Google Reader every day and check into Twitter once in a while. Because that's what keeps me sane, I've realised. It's often my only way of even keeping up with what's happening outside this campus. So I need to make sure I keep this up somehow.

And as far as my writing is concerned, well, I'm not going to say I intend to stop blogging altogether till I feel the perfect post come out - that could take pretty much forever, wot? But I do hope those feelings of satisfaction and output that blogging used to give me come back soon.

Thoughts of the Day

a) I am clearly following the wrong people on twitter.

b) I get the maximum tweetable/bloggable thoughts when I'm travelling and have absolutely no access to the Internet.

c) At least the Jet and IA in-flight magazines have things worth reading. Kingfisher, on the other hand, persists in distributing that God-awful Hi! magazine. WHY would I want to stare at picture of people who seem to have nothing better to do than pose for photos in clothes and accessories that a, I can't afford, and b, look downright weird and uncomfortable half the time?

d) Why do things seem to happen when I go to Bangalore?!? Last time I was there, the CM of Andhra Pradesh disappeared. Today, a train with more than a 1000 passengers got hijacked and was held hostage for 5 hours. And yet, all the twitterati of India seems to be talking about is iPhones and some Fashion Week that seems to be on.

My rant against twitter really is due, innit?

Also, an open letter à la India Uncut:

Dear man in the hotel room in the Radisson,

When your room is directly in front of a flyover, it would be truly appreciated if you didn't stand in front of your television in your underwear with your curtains wide open. It wasn't a particularly pleasant sight in my half-asleep state.

Thank you.

Rants from the Sickbed

Fifth. Day. Running.

This is NOT good. My fever keeps fluctuating, and my grumpiness has reached new levels. I have spent quite some time berating my poor exhausted family over past grudges, mostly the change in my room's layout some months back (I hate it when that's done) and me not being allowed to buy something I've really wanted for the last five freakin' years. I'm fairly sure that if the gal pals were around, I would start screaming at them about the infamous incident from our third year; luckily, so far, only one of them has been brave enough to call and ask how I am.

If there is anything I have hated about this illness, it is the visits to the doc. First off, I don't like my doc. Her accent is all pretentious, and she talks to us as if we're 5-year-olds. Which really isn't wise around my dad, because ze father knows as much about medicines as most doctors. Very cool ze father is. So there.

Secondly, if I have to watch that damn LiveMedia screen in the clinic's waiting room one more time, I will just scream. Number one, it is clearly not "Live" if my two visits over the space of 48 hours had the same jokes being run. In fact, given that I was back in the waiting room after seeing the doc while my dad went to pick up medicines, and the same stuff from an hour back was being played, they clearly need a new name for themselves. Number two, not one of their jokes was funny. Zilch. Nada. AND, to add insult to injury, ALL their so-called jokes were grammatically wrong!!! There is major gnashing of teeth happening here.

On another note, what is with bloggers starting their posts with an apology for how long the post is? How do you actually know when you start the post how long it's going to be? I have never till date written a post which was exactly identical to how it seemed in my head before I actually started typing it; they always, always take a shape and form of their own. Plus, how does apologizing for the length make people want to read on till the end. Either they'll read the whole thing or they'll get bored halfway and leave - your regret at making them read such a long thing won't change their mind either way, because chances are, if the post is really as long as that, by the time they've reached that halfway point, they'll have forgotten all about your apology anyway.

I think I'm going to stop now.

The Stylish Indian

I love Shoba Narayan's latest column, especially the ending, in which she talks about just how stylish Indians are.

Style is hard to define. Reams of pages in fashion magazines are devoted to it. Designers take it apart and even then it is useless because style is subjective — the exuberant overdose that John Galliano thinks is stylish would be anathema to a Japanese.

As a people, I believe that we Indians are stylish. I don’t mean the Page 3 socialites who have fallen prey to Western dictates (and brand names) of what constitutes style. I mean that rural India has a style that is entirely and uniquely our own. It is in the upturned jootis and the dignified walk of a turban-clad farmer in Rajasthan; in the crisp folds of a Bengal cotton sari, especially when worn by pretty much any woman in Kolkata; in the green bangles of a koli fisherwoman who goes to Crawford Market; in the pristine white “mundu” dhoti of Kerala politicians including defence minister A.K. Antony; in the graceful walk of any woman who balances a pot of water on her head. Wherever you look in India, we have a style and grace that is a mixture of Bauhaus functionality and Baroquean exuberance. It follows Mies van der Rohe’s dictate that form must follow function and then adds a fillip of colour and je ne sais quoi to it.

Every morning after putting my kids in the school bus, I sit down and watch the line of maids who enter our building complex. Not one of them is poorly put together and I’ve heard this said about bais (maids) all over India. They take pride in their appearance and come in wearing neatly-pinned saris, perhaps some jasmine in their hair, maybe a bangle or two and a dangling earring as a nod to current fashion. No make-up, no expensive accessories, just professionals dressed up for their jobs. Are they stylish? I doubt that they think in those terms. They are unstudied but not nonchalant. They pay attention to their clothes but don’t fuss over them. Most of all, their outfits stay true to themselves, with a little extra fillip. If that’s not style, I don’t know what is.

On another note, I started another blog, dear visitors. You may visit it here.

Y'know what I don't like about Blogger?

When you leave a comment on someone's blog, and they click on your name, they come to your profile. Then they click on your blog and get to visit it. Which totally messes up my visitor stats. How do I know which blog they saw my comment on and decided to come?

Bah.

Il y a deux ans...

It suddenly struck me that this blog turned two last month. Which means I've been a blogger for more than three years. 

But as I read my old posts, both here and in the private blog I had for a year before that, I wonder if there's any growth or, for lack of a better word, maturity that comes across in my writings. Because I don't see it. I still seem to be as opinionated, obnoxious and self-obsessed as I was three years ago. 

And if so, and if I've just stagnated since I began blogging, then that's just a pity.

What do you think?

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On another note, Max New York Life Insurance has come up with a fabulous ad. Even if you don't listen or understand to the background song, you still get the gist of it, so enjoy:

Incidentally, has anyone ever read that short story by Jeffrey Archer, The Grass is Always Greener?!?

I just noticed this...

...at the bottom of my Gmail page (which is really down below because I have too many labels for my own good):

This account is open in 1 other location (my home IP address which I refuse to display here). Last account activity: 20 minutes ago on this computer.

Which is interesting, and informative, because it tells me my dad hasn't restarted his laptop in two days and that I am therefore still logged in on my domain there.

I also just noticed the new look of Blogger's Dashboard. I like. It's not as radical as some of MSN's changes used to be.

Hello people. I'm back. For how long, I don't know.

A useless lil' vent

Now who on earth uses Bloglines to subscribe to my blog?!?

Bloglines is funny, you know. One, I don't think I'll use it that often anyway, because why should I sign in there separately to read my feeds (is that what they're called? I'm little clueless about all this terminology) when I have Google Reader doing a very nice job for me, and two, for some reason they won't let me claim my blog. And believe you me, I've been trying every six months for nearly two years now - mainly because I forget all about it for the rest of the time. I suspect it's because of the whole old Blogger-new Blogger problem, because they basically don't accept my Gmail ID as my freakin' Blogger Username!

I have a cold. Because I got wet in the rain. The rain which apparently indicates that the monsoons have hit Delhi two week earlier than expected for the first time in 108 years. Which doesn't make sense to me at all, because as far as I'm concerned, there was no summer this year. It's been raining for months!

I had planned to vent about something else as well, and it's completely slipped my mind now.

I hate colds. They make me all miserable and lousy-feeling and drained of energy and even venting doesn't make me feel better. Sheesh.

Of celebrities and their blogs...

*sigh* Just when you think the Bachchan family cannot get more in your face then it already is, you get proven wrong.

Amitabh Bachchan has started blogging. Now, a) he doesn't write particularly well, and b) his blog is in one of those irritating formats where not only does the whole entry not show up in Google Reader, but it doesn't even show up on the home page of the damn blog! You have to do the whole clicking on a link to read the rest of the entry bit to read every entry which is really annoying. And honestly, the man is just full of himself! If you're a "superstar" in India, the media is going to hound you. And if you're going to react to every single thing the media says about you, then we've had it! And, even if I choose not to read his blog, I can't get away from it, because both HT City or Delhi Times are bound by compulsion for some obscure reasons to quote his entries on a daily basis.

Don't get me wrong; I think the Bachchan family is tremendously talented. Jaya Bachchan has always been one of my favourite actresses. Amitabh Bachchan is above and beyond almost everyone else in the industry; you just have to look at Hrishikesh Mukherjee's movies, Sholay, and Black to realise that, to name just a few. Aishwarya Rai can act quite decently if she has the right movie and the right director, and Abhishek Bachchan, of course, I had a huge crush on till the whole family started getting on my nerves. I mean, not only are they doing utterly ridiculous movies most of the time (just look at Jhoom Barabar Jhoom), but they're freaking everywhere!

Incidentally, can anyone tell me why Aamir Khan's blog doesn't have a feed to which I can subscribe to on Google Reader?

Wotchoo lookin' for?

My blog's become extremely popular in the Google searches over the last two-three months, the most popular searches being "beautiful in my eyes", "empirical proof", and "haldi milk", in that order. Sundry searches for cures for hypochodriasis, a place to stay in San Francisco, the OotP movie (including one for "injuries in the harry potter and the order of the phoenix movie"!) and Uncle Chipps have also brought a lot of visitors to my blog. The funniest so far, in my opinion, have been "my friends call me a feminist", "cars for family of five", and "one quality to pass on ur kid." I mean, seriously, my blog giving advice on child-rearing?

These searches have also helped me correct a lot of spellings on my blog too. Had you noticed, for example, that for the first year of its existence, the word 'idiosyncrasies' was spelled incorrectly in the 'About Me' section?

I am particularly intrigued, however, by this morning's visitor's search: "explain how to open a email". Most people I know figure out the email bit before they learn to search for things online. This person obviously did it the other way round. Good for him/her!

Announcement of the day

I usually don't announce the additions of any widgets, but leave it to y'all to discover them. However, this time round I suppose I feel the need to do so.

I've added an Article list to the left, right below the Blogs I Read section (which needs a major overhaul!). I'm going to put links to any interesting articles I come across there instead of dedicating one-line entries to them. If I feel the need to add a commentary to any article, I may do so, but I don't see that happening too often, do you?

Of course, this probably means my frequency of posting is going to drop sharply, but you'll just have to swallow the lump forming in your throat and live with it.

Also, I don't think Bloglines or Google Reader will catch updates happening to the list (yes, I do get to know when you use these; yay Statcounter!), so you'll probably just have to check every time you visit.

To start off the list, I've put up two articles. One is fairly outdated, but talks about Ganguly, so you should read it. The second is about a cause very close to my heart, and a person very dear to me - Anuja Gupta of RAHI Foundation and her work against child sexual abuse and incest. Read it, please.

Also, to know more about RAHI Foundation, you could visit their site, or even the Wikipedia entry I created for them. (Yers, I know, I'm very kewl.)

Who are you please?

My blog's going global.

My friend Ziggy is very fond of mentioning how I never appreciate anything. Well, I'm here to prove her wrong. I appreciate Statcounter a great deal. It tells me how many people are visiting my blog, how they got there, how many times they've visited it, where they're located, and even what browser they use. I've had visitors using various versions of MSIE and Firefox, as well people using Netscape (I had no idea that was still in existence - I started my journey on the World Wide Web using that some eight odd years ago), Safari and Opera (I had never even heard of these last two mentioned).

You can, incidentally, see how many visits my blog has had if you scroll down and look at the pretty pink counter near the bottom of the sidebar on the right.

So anyway, like I said, Statcounter also tells me how a particular visitor got to my blog. For instance, if someone comes through from the link in Ziggy's latest blog entry, the referring link would show her blog. Now, when it says "No referring link", it means (and I have read and re-read Statcounter's FAQ section to clarify this), it means that the visitor either typed in the address of my blog in the address bar, or has my blog saved in his/her Favourites/Bookmarks/whatever your browser happens to call them. Now, in recent months, I've been visited at irregular intervals by someone in Germany, who I like to call The German (yes, I know, I'm very creative - for all you know, it's a Russian who just happens to live in Germany). According to my source, The German tends to visit my blog either from Ziggy's profile or, since her latest entry, directly from her blog.

In recent weeks, however, people from all round the world have been visiting my blog, and all these visitors seem to have "No referring link". I've had visitors from different parts of the US, Canberra, Aukland, and Norway. And all of them seem to know the address to my blog. I do realize that this sudden influx could be due to the fact that I've been posting a bit in the Blogger groups, but not all - the dates don't add up. Also, since there have been returning visits I assume they've liked something in here to bring them back.

See, here's the deal. I have very low self-esteem. And I'm a very curious person. So if you like this place, tell me. Well, if you don't like it, tell me in that case too, but be nice about it, OK? Use constructive criticism, please? And if you don't want to tell me what you think about my Meandering thoughts, at least tell me who you are. I want to know!

I've been called a spy already. Don't go there.

I say...

65%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?

I would've thought it would be more you know. Ah well!

Why and wherefore

I sometimes wonder why I blog. I mean, I know I have a vast readership which just waits breathlessly for whatever pearls of wisdom I might spout next, but apart from that, why do I blog?

I have things to say, which I know very few people within my friend circle would enjoy listening to during random conversations. So I say them here.

Still, not all my thoughts get expressed. I start many a blog entries, only to discard them midway, either because I decide they're not worthy enough to get an entire entry dedicated to them, or I find myself unable to express them adequately enough.

My blog posts have also changed in nature over time. From venting spleen about my personal life, to cribbing about the ways of the world, to simple talking nonsense in the recent past, I'm growing more and more dissatisfied with my blog. Yet, I don't see myself giving it up anytime soon, because it is an outlet for me, an outlet I can't let go of, not yet at least.

Someone on hearing that I blog once pointed me towards her friend's blog, which put in words the best reason I've ever come across for blogging, and probably the answer to my original question. He says that blogging is perfect for those who don't like to sing when other people are around, but who have always wanted to sing in an auditorium.

Maybe that is why I blog. I have opinions. I may not be entirely comfortable expressing those opinions to other people, but I have them nevertheless and I wish to express them. Ergo, I blog.

PS: You see that little thing at the bottom of my sidebar? The one with the numbers? Now that not only tells me where you're from, but also how often you're visiting my blog. So leave some comments, why don'tcha? :)