Info-tainment

online fun

2011-06-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

As the saying goes, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. here is an awesome site where you can get the inside reviews of vegas casino games.
Casino is one of the greatest form of entertainment. Playing it online can be a great experience and this is what online Casino Games is all about. This is the greatest form of Online Gambling If you are looking for information on casinos. then here is the web site to provide you with all the information you require. www.casinoguide.ws is a premium web site completely dedicated to the cause of providing details and information on casinos. The web site is the best place for Online Casinos. If you are looking for information on casinos, then this is the perfect place to go. Go into this web site and get all the information you want about gambling online. Thanks for reading my blog. Have fun

Gold for all

2011-06-22T05:21:00.000-07:00

Hey all,
In our life, we come to a stage where we realize that we need to plan for our future. This is when we calculate about the money that we would make for the various purchases that we wish to make. This could be house, cars, land and other things that we wish to own. Hence we make investment of our money. So we look for options to invest our money in.
I would like to suggest that we buy gold bullion. As everyone knows, this is a great investment option. The price of the bullion is very affordable now, but the price of the gold bullion is in the increasing trend. This means that if we buy bullion today and sell it later we would make good profits. This is a one of a kind opportunity.
The internet is a great place to buy gold. Here is a wonderful site that gives you the opportunity to purchase the gold. It is very well designed and purchase is very simple. You can also have a look at the rates and you will find them to be really affordable. I hope this post was useful to all of you.

Know about your finances.

2011-06-19T22:01:00.000-07:00

Hi friends,
It is when we earn money by our own means that we understand the true value of it. We then realize how important it is to manage our finances. At first we look to save money through our own piggy bank style of saving. Once we realize that it is a much better option to save it in banks, we look for the best options there and save our money in the form of deposits. I found the Aurora Bank CD Rates to be really a good deal.
There are a lot of sites that give you an insight on finance management.These have simple tasks that one needs to follow in order to save a large amount of sums of money. This includes tax planning, purchase of stocks, bonds and other methods too. A thorough knowledge of finance is fundamental for those who want to make the best use of their money. The best alternative would be to opt for a financial advisor who could help you with the same. Hope this post was useful to all of you.

Purchasing auto insurance

2011-06-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

Hi friends,
Many of us dream about having our own automobiles. We call like to own our own cars. While buying a car we have to look into a lot for factors. This includes the auto warranty being given upon the purchase of the automobile.
Here is a great opportunity for us to avail an extended auto warranty through this amazing site. I hope all of you check out the link and have a look at what is on offer for you.
When we have our own factories, we often have to take care of the logistics of the supply of our products. This requires us to purchase automobiles for this purpose. While we do so, we have to ensure that we take the best auto warranties available. This is a great way to be cost efficient and also be assured of a great service.I hope this post was useful to all of you.

Feel great beauty tips

2011-06-13T04:03:00.000-07:00

Hey all,
In this modern age, we have been running behind something all our lives. We have a very tight schedule to keep. Our companies set us hard targets to attain and we have to take care of our kids too. It is because of such work pressure that we do not get much of time for ourselves. This is even in the case of child birth and maternal leaves.
Hence the onus is now on us to look for quick and time efficient ways to enhance our beauty. Working mothers can look into Beyond Skin Deep for information about quick solutions that can help them feel good again. There are a number of tips that we can follow even in the house. These are cost efficient and can be very easy to follow.
However old or young we are, we like to feel good about ourselves. This way we improve our self confidence and succeed in life. I hope all of you check out this wonderful site. Thanks for reading my blog.

Let us party

2011-06-10T06:55:00.000-07:00

Hi friends,
We sometimes need a break from our routine work. We get ourselves into a lot of tensions at work and this causes a lot of stress. A simple way to de-stress ourselves is chill out and party once in a while. Today I am going to talk about Party enhancers that help us during these times.Read on to know more about Herbal City LLC .

Sometimes we need to get into the partying atmosphere in order to enjoy the party properly. While some people are able to tune their minds fast, the others need some help in this aspect. For them, they do require some Spiritual powders that would help them to transition from the serious mood of office to the relaxed and enjoyable mood of the party.

There are many mood setters available. For instance, the K6 herbal incense gives a very good fragrance that sets the mood for a great evening with the love of your life. With the enhancing powders available, one can be assured of a night to remember. I hope this post was useful to you.

That Summer- Episode 3

2011-06-04T01:52:00.001-07:00

“All set? Great, let’s go!” Rohan started the engine of the old Esteem; the engine purred to life. Sweet! Ashu sat slumped in the back seat next to Rachel, Dave was in the front seat next to Rohan. It was four in the morning and the streets of Meerut were deserted as they drove through. Rohan plugged his mp3 player into the music system and turned up the volume… Switchfoot screams ‘I don’t wanna read the book, I’ll watch the movie…’ Rohan sings along while Rachel buries her head deeper into the book she is trying to read. She’s reading Anna Karenina of all things… Rohan wonders if it’s normal for a sixteen-year-old to read Leo Tolstoy. He flicks his long ponytail back and steps on the accelerator as they hit the highway. Rachel thought it so unfair that her brother inherited straight silky hair while she ended up with something that resembled a lion’s bushy mane. She feels grumpy, Davey had been ignoring her all morning…boys could be such a pain. “Hey bird brain don’t you want breakfast?Why have bread when you can have a schadenfreude” Rohan asks her. Rachel looks up from her book and realizes they’ve stopped at a roadside dhabaa. They all roll out of the car stretching their legs and looking around. “Hooah! what’s wrong with your hair kid?” Dave asks Rachel. “I rolled down the window and stuck my head out.” She nonchalantly replies. “You look like Bon-Jovi with a tan!” He says with a grin. “Well I hear retro is all the rage now.” She smiles back. “Let’s go get some breakfast, I’m starved.”He glances back as Ashu who was bending over tying his shoelaces, “Achoo, hurry up or you won’t have any Parathas left.” The sun was up and the AC high. Ashu and Dave had exchanged seats and Rachel was boring everyone with Elephant Jokes. “How do you fit an Elephant inside a Refrigerator?” “You cut it up into tiny pieces, roast it, and put it in a plastic bowl.” “Eeww! Ashu, that’s just gross!” “No it isn’t, they do it in Africa.” “Rohan, slow down you’re going too fast!” Rachel shrieks. Suddenly he hits the breaks… the car squeals and skids… Rachel screams and hides her head… Rohan grips the steering wheel tighter… Ashu clutches his seatbelt… Dave braces himself for the impact… The car comes to a sudden standstill just inches away from a goat. “Sorry guys, I didn’t see where that came running from.” They all heave a sigh of relief… Dehradun is 30kms away.

Rafael Nadal

2011-06-02T03:23:00.000-07:00

ONE OF DA REMARAKABLE PLAYER OF TENNIS.
CLAY COURT SPECIALIST IN JUST 19 YEAR OF AGE.NOW SEEDED NO 2 WINNER OF ROLAND GARROS (GRAND SLAM) 2005 2006 ND 2007 (HE HAS DONE IT AGAIN). HE IS REALLY A CHAMP ND HE DESERVES THAT TITLE .. ND HE WORK REALLY HARD 4 BEING DA CHAMP AGAIN ..

Nationality: Spain

Birth Date: 3 June 1986

Birthplace: Manacor, Mallorca

Residence: Manacor, Mallorca

Height: 1.83 metres (6 ft. 0 in.)

Weight: 75 kilos (165 lbs.)

Plays: Left

Year Turned Pro: 2001

Current ATP Champions Race Position: 2

Hez a spanish player and is the former F.C. Barcelona footballer Miguel Ángel Nadal. He is currently World's No. 2 male tennis player — his highest career singles ranking —and the first man since Boris Becker to reach that spot in his teenage years.

Cigarette

2011-06-02T01:33:00.000-07:00

It's burning between her fingers
her eyes are focusing on the numberless sands
her ears hate to hear the outside crunch
i am watching her sometime in the same bench
trying to find her mind's waves
but there is no reflection in her face
i saw the loneliness of dynamism in her forehead
i smell the European aroma in her body signs
she is thinking along with the cigarette
flames flew inside her lung
but she has forgot the meaning of funk
i perched near to read her
i know that she is younger than me
hope she is elder than my thoughts
i saw her taste in the book what she had
her mind is like something behind the closed doors
it's inside the sound of silence
still her fingers are gripping the cigarette
i think she always has the shadow of regret
i am searching the words to lay before her
but she is staying from my world so far
in her fingers, the white needle losing the life
she threw that upon the sand
she left from that place to find a new land
i said to the dead cigarette kindly,
you may know all the answers
but don't let the questions alone
don't let the questions alone

Digitalpoint

2011-06-01T20:43:00.000-07:00

Everything Will Die
Alone i stand on a pedestal high,
Under a sky devoid of rain.
A silent caress from a dying wind,
The sky cries words of pain.

Tears of the sun have dried,
Finally the spirit of terra has cried.
Gone is the spring forever,
Winter has befallen paradise.

Flames crown the dying trees,
The ocean has swallowed the sun.
Dark water burns in withering sunlight,
I wonder at what i have done.

Dead roses adorn the lonesome path,
The moon has died tonight.
Forever from now the oceans run dry,
Never will we see the morning light.

Evening has fallen on a darkened horizon,
Where will the sun now rise?
For the sky itself has fallen quiet,
Scared for its own demise.

The sun has set forever,
One by one the stars will die.
The rainbow once bright has turned to black,
Darkness has fallen in paradise.

A dance with the devil
Another turning point,
a new twist in the tale,
you feel differently about us again...

to and fro you keep going,
never met a more confused brain,
you show me a diffrent picture, you take me to a land,
where flowers bloom without thorns,
you break open my shell,
and show me a new world,
im high on happiness
and just when i spread my wings to fly,
you chop them up with a butchers knife...

the rush is gone, you've turned your back,
i've fallen flat on my face once again,
you've shown me my place,
rubbed sand in my face,
you look at me from the corner of your eye,
whil i try and gather pieces of myself.

i realized i'd been dancing with the devil himself..

I know its not my time,
and i know things aint fine,
you can laugh at me standing there,
and strike a blow on my head.
do all that you want, ignore me to death.
i'll still be standing here, expressionless...

cos i know my time isnt far,
when destiny will deal me better cards,
i wont forgive, and i wont forget.
just pray hard for your escape.
cos i wont rest till i make u repent,
and take back every word you said...

Lost, Found or Thrown Out

2011-06-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I started cleaning the little shelves in my room for lack of nothing better to do. I had started off with sorting out my pile of books. Once I had that under control; I dived into the dusty boxes of knickknacks that I hadn’t looked through for perhaps more than two years. The number of things a person can collect in a couple of years is amazing, earrings, chains, beads, watches, bits of string, old bills, ribbon, old lipstick, pens, clothing labels, crayons, dried up fevicol tubes, clips, notepads, post-its, mobile phone chargers, kingfisher earphones (I leave them behind now-a-days) and for some reason I also had a couple of sachets of ketchup and sugar (I must have kept them in case I ran out of ketchup one day and had the sudden urge to eat french-fries in bed, I guess).I’m not a hoarder — at least I try not to be a hoarder. I try to throw out whatever I don’t need and yet, there always seems to be something that I just can’t bring myself to throw out even though I know that I have absolutely no use for it. So those things just keep lying around gathering dust until one day while sorting though my junk I find them and then finally decide that perhaps it’s time I threw it out.

I always wonder why there are some things that I never seem to lose and yet some of the things I value the most always get lost. My heart breaks whenever I think of those two precious cell phones that I’ve lost in the last 5 years and then again there are two other phones which are old and useless lying around the house which never had much sentimental value and yet they served me well till they gave up and died. Oh and my poor precious first-expensive watch whose clasp was loose which fell off my hand and was never found again. Why do have so many useless cheap watches lying around?

I always seem to lose one odd of my favourite pair of earrings and I keep holding on to the other odd hoping that I’ll one day find the missing pair. I never do find it. Sometimes I suddenly chance upon an old book or bracelet or bag that I’d never even realized was missing and I wonder-Wow! where did that come from? I love it though when I rummage though my clothes and suddenly find an old favourite top or skirt that had once disappeared in the dark recesses of my closet.

I don’t always loose everything I value. A lot of things serve me well till I get pretty much tired of it and stop using it. Then all of a sudden one day I find the dusty old thing and wonder how I’d forgotten all about it. Like that old spring bracelet I’ve had for years since the time I was in college or an old keychain that someone once gave me-all old, dusty and discoloured. Should I throw it out? Soon there is a small pile of junk on the floor, things that still work but that no longer look nice or new, things that are not broken but that have long lost their function. And so I clean out my shelves, throwing out things and holding back some things hoping to find some use for it; usually I end up keeping some of the stuff and then eventually I forget all about it until my next cleaning spree.

I know there was meant to be some deep significant lesson in all this musing; I can’t seem to figure out what it is though.

The Makeover

2011-06-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

The LukGud Beauty Salon was situated in a swanky mall, on a busy street, in the heart of the crowded city. Its glitzy interiors and youthful image made it precisely the kind of place where twenty-something fashion conscious girls went to splurge their money on the latest hot look so that they could shimmy off to the next happening party. The staff at LukGud was trained to be courteous and polite with a friendly yet professional attitude. They were allowed to sport tattoos and brightly coloured hair, all in keeping with its hip and trendy image.

Suzy slammed the drawer shut making the hairbrushes on the table rattle. It was a Monday morning and she was not in a good mood. She had got a telling off for coming in a few minutes late today–not her fault that the bus was stuck in traffic, was it? Besides, there would hardly be any customers in so early on a Monday morning, she thought grumpily.

“Welcome to LukGud ma’am, how can I help you?” She beamed a fake smile at the first customer of the day.

Preeti looked around hesitantly, “I’ve come for a makeover… it says here in this ad that you have a makeover package…” her voice faltered, she must look like a complete fool right now she thought.

Suzy looked at the girl who seemed like she would run away in a minute. Dressed in a drab salwar-kameez, she had long black hair that was oiled and tied in a plait, thick bushy eyebrows that had never been plucked, not a smidgen of makeup, and hairy arms to top it all. Just my luck! The girl would probably not even leave a tip, she thought, might as well get on with it.

“Yes we do, have a seat here ma’am, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Suzy replied, indicating her to take a seat on a fancy red chair.

Preeti sat stiff as cardboard while the beautician examined her. She felt like she was in a doctor’s office; she checked her skin, her hair, her nails… it was a good thing she didn’t ask her to stick her tongue out and say ah!

“We’ll do your eyebrows, waxing, pedicure, manicure, a facial, and your hair and makeup; that’s what is included in the complete makeover package.” Suzy told her.
“Ok,” Preeti replied meekly. She had no clue what the beautician was talking about, but if all this was what it took to look pretty, then she was ready for it.

She must have broken up with her boyfriend, Suzy thought, it was the only reason a girl like her would come to a beauty salon for a makeover. But then again, the girl didn’t look like she could ever have had a boyfriend… maybe she wanted to get one…

Preeti leaned her head back into the sink for her hair to be washed. The smell of expensive shampoo tickled her nose. She sighed with pleasure as her head was gently massaged with shampoo and rinsed with warm water. She’d never had anyone else wash her hair before; it was so soothing. She wondered why she hadn’t ever done this before; her past resistance to beauty treatments seemed silly now. Her thoughts drifted back to what Mohan once told her, “I love you because you are so simple and down-to-earth, not like all the other girls…” She’d believed him then, and trusted him, only to find out that it was all a lie. Drops of tears trickled down from her eyes into her hair and got rinsed away with the running water…

The first pull of the wax strip against her skin was like a jolt that felt like she’d just had her skin pulled off. The pain momentarily took her mind away from the affliction of her heart. Halfway through the procedure she had to remind herself of the reason why she was there going through the painful physical torture…

It had all started as a joke between the so called ‘hip-clique’ at the call center where she worked, to prove that Preeti was truly as innocent as she appeared to be. As silly prank, Mohan first wooed her and then tried to seduce her and would have succeeded, had it not been for the confession of his guilt stricken friend. Humiliated, shocked, and hurt the fragile girl from a small town was thrust head first into the reality of big city life. Finally, lest she crumble and fall into a million little pieces she decided to do something drastic to herself.

With each strip peeled away, the layers of self-pity and vulnerability were stripped off, revealing a person stronger and bolder than the one before. A girl who never knew her skin could be so smooth and soft had also never known the strength of her own soul.

To Suzy, the girl was like a blank sheet of paper on which she the artist could paint anything she liked. Such complete trust was something rare– like a lump of clay in a potter’s hand. The joy of doing what she was good at doing swept her up on a wave of satisfaction.

Suzy studied the face of the girl, in just a few hours she already looked different; her skin was glowing, eyebrows and nails were neatly shaped, and she seemed more relaxed. Now came the most important step of all-the hairstyle.

The metamorphosis of a plain, ordinary girl into a stylish looking woman is not very hard with the right kind of tools. Yet, the transformation of the timid and naive into the resolute and self assured is painful and slow, mostly carved out in the meanest conditions. With this change there always is the danger that something precious and irrecoverable is lost along the way.

Makeup –the war paint of women used to conquer men, Suzy thought, as she applied the last touches of makeup to Preeti’s face while explaining the gimmicks of maintaining her new look. Satisfied with her work she took Preeti to the mirror for the final revelation.

When Preeti had set out to change herself, she had no idea of who she wanted to be. She now clearly saw that the boy who hurt her was nothing more than a bad caricature of a silly film star. He and his friends were people who hid their weaknesses behind masks of pseudosophistication and fancy clothes. Who then was she trying to fool by trying to look like one of them?

“You look beautiful ma’am” Suzy said, but Preeti didn’t hear her… she was captivated by the image that stared back at her. Who was this, the woman who stared back at her? Does a person become what they look like or do their looks become what they are? Was she still the same person she was when she had walked in here today? She didn’t know the answers to that yet, but one thing she knew for sure–the people who never bothered to look beyond skin deep would never be able to guess who she truly was beneath her new facade. Her transformation had just begun.

In the garden

2011-06-01T00:42:00.000-07:00

Birds, of all colours and sizes. Little yellow ones whose names I didn’t know, bluish black ones with feathers that glistened in sunlight, sparrows, koyels, all darting about in the garden; busy, cheerful, chirpy birds.

Green, of a thousand shades. Every tree, bush and blade of grass a different green, washed clean of all dust in the monsoon rain, blending and melding in with the flowers red, violet, pink, white, orange.

Tranquility. All around me peace and quiet reign. A lazy afternoon.

The storm is only in my mind. A thousand screams erupting within me, like the chaos of war, like the screams of the damned in brimstone and sulfur. I want to pull my hair out and scream like a madman. Maybe I was mad and this garden was a fantasy to escape from the reality of my hell.

Worthless. All of it was futile. All this thinking would not bring her back. Never! She would never come back to me. That’s what she’d said… the last thing she told me.

I stare at the arbour. The same place where I first told her I loved her; where we shared our first kiss, under the starry night sky, in the moonlight, the smell of night jasmine all around us. Stupid, romantic notions of love. We’d had it all and lost it all.

Why did she want to leave me? I still couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t she have explained, couldn’t she have told me what she wanted of me? Where did I go wrong? What went wrong? Selfish, selfish… How could she be so selfish?

Talk to me, I screamed, but she wouldn’t answer. All I can hear now are my own groans and feel my own tears. Bitter, salty tears.

Loss. The chaos has settled into an empty aching. They will be coming for me now, searching for me. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

I unclench my jaw. It aches. I wipe my tears and take a deep breath. I get the sweet smell of fresh clean grass and flowers, wet earth and blood. Her blood.

Miss Communicator Meets Brick Wall

2011-05-31T16:51:00.000-07:00

Voice 1:
“I’m sorry ma’am but you cannot board this flight.”
I stare blankly at the neatly dressed hair of the lady in the blue airlines uniform wondering if I heard wrong. The tension that had built up within me during the last couple of hours inflates and bursts into an explosion of incredulity. “I’m sorry! Did you just say I can’t board the flight? Are you absolutely sure? Can you check once again?”
I feel like reaching out and shaking her, why was she checking so slowly! She was just as slow as the stupid cab driver who drove me to the airport. It seems like I’d now missed my flight thanks to him.
“I’m sorry ma’am but you are too late, the doors have already been closed, I can’t let you board this flight.”
I can hear her repeat the same statement in a bored monotone. She seems oblivious to the waves of frustration radiating from me. There are twenty minutes for the flight to leave, all I needed was my boarding pass and I would already be through security check by now.
She seems like a large brick wall blocking my path to keep me from catching my flight. I try my convincing best but there is no way I can scale this brick wall, not without causing serious damage to both of us. I decide it’s not worth risking my peace of mind and walk away. The adrenalin that had built up, slowly drains out of me, like air from a balloon.

Voice 2:
Passengers can be so irritating; don’t they know that they have to check in an hour before the scheduled time of flight? The lady in front of me thinks she can run straight into the airport and catch her flight as if it were a bus or a train. There’s one every day – a passenger begging to be let on board a plane a few minutes before takeoff. Why can’t they read the rules when they book a ticket?
“I’m sorry ma’am but you are too late, the doors have already been closed, I can’t let you board this flight.” Why do I have to keep repeating myself, doesn’t she understand English?
“You’ve missed the flight, go home lady,” I feel like shouting.
She doesn’t realize that I am just as powerless as her. It is impossible to let her on the flight. I just hope she doesn’t create a scene, I hate when that happens. I can feel my whole body tighten and a knot of irritation grow as I prepare to defend myself against a verbal attack. I struggle to keep my voice calm, and once again repeat the fact that there is nothing I can do to help her board the flight. I finally seem to be getting thorough to her. It looks like she’s may give up. I shrug away the pinch of pity and guilt. It’s not my problem; I’m not responsible if a passenger comes too late. Other passengers are queuing up for the next flight.

Here we go… more chronicles of my misinterpreted life. This incident took place in March when I was meant to go to Pune to evaluate a bunch of ELT’s. The cab that was meant to pick me up at 8:30 am instead arrived at my house at 10 am for a flight that was meant to leave at 11:30 am Do the math buckaroos there was no way that I was going to get this flight.
Voice 1 is my (slightly fictionalized) interpretation of the events that took place. Voice 2 is an imagined perspective of the ground staff lady who was meant to hand me my boarding pass. This was written as an exercise for my creative writing class hence a change in my usual style of writing.

Dumb Google Experiments

2011-05-31T10:50:00.000-07:00

My friend and I had a doubt about Aishwarya Rai’s age. As always, we opened Google on our respective systems. A peep into her screen had me convinced that there was something wrong with her system. Maybe it was it some kind of virus or malware on her system. It seemed to be giving all kinds of weird search options in the dropdown list for almost everything she searched. While my the Google on my system gave diffrent autosuggest options. The problem seemed to persist with any Bollywood actress’s name she typed.

After a little experimenting we realized it was not a problem with the system. It was only Google India that gave us these options. Check the options that Google.com gives for the same search.

Conclusion: Google India gives perverted autosuggest options.

We then checked if the same problem existed with Bollywood Actors. Check the results below for Google and Google India.

Conclusion: The problem is not with Google India. You can conclude whatever you want to apart from this. I am not going to say anything against any men from anywhere.

So what was the point of blogging this? Absolutely no point at all! In case this information has helped you in anyway, please do let me know by commenting below. If I just wasted 5 minutes of your valuable time; please forgive me and leave a comment stating the same.

In case you found the contents of this post offensive, then please send me a mail.

Gift Baskets

2011-05-31T05:49:00.000-07:00

Gift baskets with lots of different stuff in it, is a great idea. Make your own gift baskets; the main idea is to get an assortment of different products based on a theme; put them all together in a basket and wahala!, you have yourself a great gift! (Oh and ya if you can’t get a real basket, then any box should do)
For Her: Pamper you lady love with a gift basket: Presentation is very important, for women buy a nice cane basket, decorate it with ribbons, confetti and cover it with transparent gift wrap. Here are a few ideas of what to put inside.

All natural Creams and Body lotions, scented candles, massage oils, face scrubs, foot scrubs, home spa products etc make a great beauty care gift basket. (try Lush or Bath and Body or health and glow)
Different kinds of chocolates along with a cute little teddy bear. (not the regular Cadbury Dairymilk, go for the exotic stuff)
If she is creative and likes to make stuff then a craft basket. (lots of craft kits are available but make sure you don’t buy kiddy stuff)
For Him:

A collection of his favourite books or movies which he doesn’t own yet own yet.
A collection of different cookies, chocolates and other eatables.
If you want to go fancy then – Wine and Cheese.

Accessories & Gadgets

2011-05-31T01:48:00.000-07:00

Accessories

For Him and Her: Watches, bags, belts, ties, scarves, purses, wallets stoles… these are gifts which you can afford to go over the top with. Large, colourful, big, bright, soft, silky even outrageous it doesn’t really matter… the only problem with this is that you just may end up more confused than you already were before you started.

Gadgets

For Him and maybe for Her: Ladies; just as much as we love shoes and clothes, men love gadgets. (I am broadly stereotyping so I don’t mean the few exceptions that don’t) Electronic gadgets are men’s toys. The catch is; they may not like their women buying it for them. Because what you buy may not be what he had in mind (some guys tend to be finicky about make and model). If you are thinking the IPod touch, your guy may be thinking IPad; so to stay on the safe side, try and discreetly find out the latest gadget that he has been drooling over. Cameras, IPods, playstations, music systems, phones…
For her; there just one thing to keep in mind: It should be simple to use and it should be pretty (like pink or red.)

Lastly, it’s not what you give but how and why you give it that matters most. Try and make the occasion as special as possible.

Eats, Shoots and Leaves: Book Review

2011-05-15T00:47:00.000-07:00

I know some of you think, I suffer from a strange disease called Obsessive Correct Grammar Syndrome (tsk, tsk); but, trust me, I am not half as bad as some people I know. Take my best pals, Mary and Mona for example, who insist on correcting a person’s English every time they say something wrong, and internally cringe every time they can’t (like when a manager is speaking). I must confess that a lot of times, I’ve had the strong urge to take a red pen and correct the grammar of many a fine blog out here on CH1 (I’m sorry, but it’s true). It’s like, looking at the perfectly coifed hair of someone, and then find, that one strand of hair is out of place, and you can’t help but reach out and smoothen that strand. Sorry but, here I am going off topic… my only point is that I am really not all that bad. Take Lynne Truss for example, the author of Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation. This is the kind of book which puts me to shame, and crushes every tiny hope of ever winning a Man or ‘Woman’ Booker. So, why read it? Simply because, punctuation is important! And you can’t have good grammar without correct punctuation.

Firstly, this is not a book for those who take English lightly. In the very first chapter she writes, ‘Either this will ring bells for you, or it wont. A printed banner has appeared on the concourse of a petrol station near to where I live. “Come inside,” it says, “for CD’s, Video’s, DVD’s, and Book’s.” If this satanic sprinkling of redundant apostrophes causes no little gasp of horror or quickening of the pulse, you should probably put down this book at once.’ However, if any of you have aspirations of ever becoming a (serious) writer, then please do read this book. Personally for me, this book was an eye opener to Punctuation. I’ve always suspected that I have bad punctuation. This book pretty much proved me right. Now when think of all my earlier posts, I blush to remember, that I conveniently left out all the ‘Apostrophes’, not because I didn’t think them necessary, but because every time I copied and pasted my draft from Word, all the text after an apostrophe would go missing! I’ve finally got the hang of pasting things, but I also know that I have added to the doom of Punctuation on the whole.

The good thing about this book is that, it’s funny, interesting, and lighthearted. Buy the book if you are serious about improving your writing skills. This book, not just gives you the rules to correct punctuation, but also makes you realize the importance of those little dots and dashes in the written word. The downside to the book is that, if you have bad punctuation, you may not get some of the jokes in the book (I am still figuring out a few jokes).

By the way, if you wonder why the book is called Eats, Shoots & Leaves, here’s why: A panda walks into a cafe. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and proceeds to fire it at the other patrons. ‘Why?’ asks the confused, surviving waiter amidst the carnage, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder. ‘Well, I’m a panda’, he says, at the door. ‘Look it up.’The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation. ‘Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.’

Quirks of a not so perfect woman (part I)

2011-05-13T01:44:00.000-07:00

Quirks of a not so perfect woman
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I’ve been tagged again. And if you’ve not been tagged yet then you must not exist… or are really unpopular… or boring… or maybe nobody wants to know about you… or maybe just forgotten… or… wait a minute… am I making you feel bad? Trust me that was not my intention. What was I saying now? Yes I’ve been tagged by Anuradha to tell you seven things that you don’t know about me. Almost everyone on CH1 is doing it…it’s like the latest fad or something. Princess Raji has opened up a Pandora’s Box of confessions that makes me feel like I’m sitting and watching Koffee with Karan or Oprah every time I get a blog update. So while everyone out there is busy digging up the most absurd things they can tell about themselves to outdo one another in wackiness… why should I be left behind eh? So here goes…

1) ‘Where are you from?’ I dread this question… it always gets so tricky, so let me try clarifying this once and for all. My Paternal Granddad was from a place called Hukkeri, Northern Karnataka; my grandmother was from Pune, Maharashtra… so that makes my Dad a Kanadda-Maharashtrian. My mother is an Anglo-Indian from Madurai (yes I have a Tamilian connection). I was born in Bangalore; I grew up in Miraj, Maharashtra… if anyone asks I say I am a Marathi Moolgi… which results in confused stares but anyway…. I am an Indian plain and simple. (I’ve even had a few people ask which country I’m from )

2) Believe it or not I’m not the only ‘Ellen Hukkeri’ in the world. I’m the third person to posses this unique name. Let me tell you a story… When my mother was 12 or 13 she read this beautiful book called Not My Will by Francena Arnold. The book influenced her so much that she decided to name her daughter ‘Ellen’ after the heroine. When I was born my father wanted to name me, his one and only daughter, after his mother. Well it was fortunate for my parents that my grandmother’s name was Ellen… the very first Ellen Hukkeri. My cousin is also named Ellen after my grandmother; she is the second Ellen Hukkeri. My second name ‘Joy’ is for my maternal grandmother Joyce.

3) I can’t play the guitar and I can’t sing (I know you can’t either but this is about ‘me’ right now). Everybody in my family including my mother can play the guitar… which makes me the black sheep of the family. My family has a whole book of jokes on ‘Why Ellen can’t play the guitar’ if you visit my home you may get to hear one of those jokes.
When I was about five years old, I remember my father making me practice a song, ’sing Ellen’ he said, ‘I’m singing Dada’ I replied, ’sing louder I can’t hear you’… so I sang as loud as I could. My parents must have shaken their heads in bewilderment wondering if they took the wrong baby home by mistake… they still say I can’t sing… which I whole heartedly agree to.

4) I may not have inherited my parent’s musical talents but I did inherit the Hukkeri family Absentmindedness. In a family full of absentminded cousins, aunts and uncles I happen to win first prize for losing things and forgetting things.

Quirks of a not so perfect woman (part II)

2011-05-06T02:46:00.000-07:00

5) I suck at Math and Spelling. Yes spellings too… I’m quite horrible when it comes to spelling. Some of you who’ve chatted with me over OCS may have noticed… I can already imagine someone going suside suside. If it were not for MSWord I would be doomed. But the one thing I suck at the most is Math. If anyone were to ask me how much 6+8 is, I’ll count the answer on my hand. All through school Math was my worst nightmare. I managed to clear 10th with the bare minimum of marks in Algebra and Geometry. In 12th I conveniently gave up Math for the option of Geography… unfortunately I still had to struggle with problems in Physics till my first year BSc.

6) When I was 3 years old I started correcting my neighbours English. I wrote my first poem when I was 5. I could read through my textbooks without any help when I was 6,when I was 10 my favourite game was to lock myself up in a room and read Psalms from the King James Bible because I found the words so beautiful, my mother doesn’t remember me using baby talk when I was little… It goes to show you that some kids are born adults…

7) I don’t know how to flirt. Unlike some people who claim they don’t flirt (ahem), I have serious problems with knowing HOW to flirt. My friends can vouch for this trait of mine. I can never be comfortable with a guy who is trying to flirt with me (even if I like the guy). I guess I haven’t mastered the art of casually throwing around compliments… or accepting compliments. The worst part is even if I want to flirt with someone I have no clue how. I bet if I actually tried fluttering my eyelashes at a guy he’ll think I’ve got an eye problem. Subtlety has never been me; I might as well be blatantly honest and throw some sarcasm around.

55 word fiction- Now what?

2011-05-03T21:54:00.000-07:00

You can feel your heart pounding– thudding against your chest.

Your head is blank– gray cells all fuzzy.

You are trapped– walls close in on you.

A scream escapes your mouth but no sound emerges.

“Vin, did you send me the file?”

You blink– the sounds of office still buzz around you. Now what?

My 10 Favourite Poems

2011-05-01T11:53:00.000-07:00

I love poems, I dont know how often it has happened to you, but for me there are a lot of times when I come across a poem and I feel like the poem mirrors the exact sentiments that I feel at a certain time. Its amazing how some poets manage to describe the most complex feeling in clear simple words. Its been a long time since I wrote any poetry myself but the poetry is never far from me. I sometimes think our education system spoils famous poems for us by forcing us to study them and analyze them and then write stupid answers to stupid questions. (What was the poet thinking when he said…?) Honestly for me, poems are meant to be read and enjoyed like music, not studied and dissected like science. Here are my favourite top ten poems.

(I have put the first few lines of all the poems, to read the complete poems click here.)

Poems for the Night (Especially good when doing night shifts )

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

Acquainted With the Night by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain – and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

If you have ever felt lonely and sad these poems will tell you that you are not the only one to feel that way.

The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

These two are my favourite love poems They are not romantic by they have a depth of emotion.

How Do I Love Thee? By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

If You Were Coming in the fall by Emily Dickinson

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I’d wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

A poem to for the absent minded (people like me).

A Thought Went Up My Mind To-day by Emily Dickinson

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,–some way back,
I could not fix the year,

I like this poem i dont know why maybe because it reminds me of simpler things in life.

The Pasture by Robert Frost

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha’n’t be gone long. You come too.

I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha’n’t be gone long. You come too.

And finally two silly poems by Lewis Carroll. (From Alice in Wonderland and through the looking glass) The sheer genius of the writer amazes me even when he is writing utter gibberish.

Jabberwocky

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

The Walrus and the Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright –
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done –
‘It’s very rude of him.’ she said,
‘To come and spoil the fun!’

Hope you enjoy reading them.The restrained dawn strains behind the crowd. If you dont well then… who cares

A cup of tea

2011-04-22T03:36:00.000-07:00

The dust motes dance in the early morning sunlight streaming though my kitchen window. The solitude of an empty house is strangely soothing. I add tea leaves to the hot water and watch it change colour; first golden, then a darker brown. A beam of sunlight gives it a glow of red. I love the colour. I can smell the tangy bitterness of tea as the steam rises. Should I add milk or drink it black? I add milk…just the right amount.
I’m the first one to touch to the newspaper today. It’s fresh and uncrinkled, no brother around to mess it up first. I settle down on my favourite chair by the window. Cup of tea, newspaper, peaceful morning… perfect!

Alright, the objective of this piece is to write a scene only in the present tense. Stories written in the present tense have the beauty of bringing the reader closer to the scene being described and making the events seem more real. Let me know how you like my cuppa tea. You could also try the same by writing a story or scene in the present tense. Please don’t expect me to tag anyone for this… you know I don’t do that.

A Perfect Day in Bangalore City

2011-04-17T03:55:00.000-07:00

I think it’s finally over. 25 deg C – light drizzle – 65% humidity – no sign of the sun – a Perfect day in Bangalore city. I can feel the end of summer is near.

On a day like this the hour long drive to work feels like a drive out for pleasure and I don’t feel like getting down when I reach office. The city looks so fresh and the trees are all green which looks like the green of an emerald hue set in the backdrop of tarnished silver. Am I waxing poetic? Crap!

Ok here are the facts. I don’t want to be sitting here cooped up in office. I want to be out… I want to be at home… I want to be sipping on hot chai and eating garam pakodas!!!!
Fine… I’ll tell you what. Bangalore is beautiful today… the weather report says it’s going to be sunny tomorrow so I know it won’t be like today. Whoever said, ‘make hay while the sun shines’ obviously didn’t live in India during summer.

I think I’m in love with Bangalore. If I had enough money, I’d buy one of those quaint cute little houses in Frazer town and live right there till I’m old and gray. I’ll renovate the house into a cute little cafe that sells hot cakes and fancy breads (wait a minute, I think that’s been done already). Oh well, who cares, Bangalore could use another restaurant… or maybe I’ll open a play school with dozens of rambunctious kids running about the place… Does anyone have some spare change of a few crores lying around?

That Summer part I

2011-04-12T06:39:00.000-07:00

The smell of kebabs roasting on coals wafted through the cool night air mingling with the scent of eucalypts and pine. On a hill far away from the tourist bustle of Mussoorie sat a little house owned by a couple who lent it to out to close friends. Four young people sat outside this house around the coal flames trying to outdo each other with scary ghost stories.

Rohan fanned the coals sending sparks scattering all over.

“It’s so quiet up here you can almost hear the silence.” said Dave after a lull in the conversation.

“A far cry from Mumbai, huh city boy?” Rohan said, looking up from the flames.

“Yeah, you guys must be used to it though.”

“Kinda, its always refreshing to come up here, we don’t really get tired of it.”

“I’m going for a walk.” Rachel said suddenly, getting up and dusting herself. “Are any of you guys coming?” she asked them all while looking only at Dave.

“Umm, no you carry on.” Dave mumbled, knowing that Rohan watched him with a hawk’s eye.

Ashu grunted but made no move to get himself up. Rachel huffed away and walked up the little path that led to the top of the hill. There was just enough moonlight to guide her, the trees thinned out further up the hill giving her a clear view of the valley below; the bright lights of Dheradun shone in the distance, and nestled somewhere in the hills was the Woodstock School where Rohan and Rachel had studied for a few years. As she stood looking out there her thoughts contemplating things like Pyramids and Pharaohs she was overcome with a feeling that Longfellow would describe as,

“A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain”

So lost in thought was she that she didn’t notice the figure that silently watched her from the path below.

“You guys should probably go check where she is…” Rohan said sometime after Rachel walked away, “…I’ll look after these kebabs.”