Mumbai - Bruised But Not Broken

Shock. That's what I felt when mom woke me up at 11.15 on Wednesday night telling me there's been a blast. But it turned out to be so much more. I watched the news in horror. Firing at CST? In a hospital? In the Leopold's Cafe? The Taj and Oberoi hotels under siege? What hellish nightmare have I walked into? It only got worse. As I watched all the familiar South Mumbai places being attacked, my mind could barely fathom that all this was actually happening. Every waking moment was spent glued in front of the television. Even as my body cried for sleep, my mind refused. I was determined to follow the entire tragedy right till the end - which, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be approaching, inspite of repeated assurances that the operations at all three places; Nariman House, The Taj Hotel and the Oberoi Hotel, are in their final stages. They have been in the final stages since yesterday afternoon. When is this insanity going to end?!

Ah, and then came the politicians for their moment of glory. They stubbornly insisted on visiting the sites, choosing to ignore pleas that asked them to stay away. Of what concern was it to them that the police had to deploy extra personnel to look after their safety? Did it matter that the policemen had to look after these attention seeking brats instead of focusing on the situation at hand? Was bringing the situation under control as important as assisting these so-called people in their 15 minutes of fame on the eve of the elections? These politicians were busy passing the blame instead of taking responsibility for their actions; instead of being the leaders they were elected to be and taking charge in this time of crisis.

When I was younger, I remember someone telling me "If Pakistan dares lay a finger on Mumbai, India will annihilate Pakistan." Such was the confidence in the government. Now, however, the politicians are so busy playing the blame game that they barely have time for something as trivial as weeding out the perpetrators and bringing them to justice.

The infallible Mumbai spirit has taken a hit. The streets on Thursday resembled curfew. The usually full-to-bursting local trains were deserted. Very few taxis could be seen in Southern Mumbai. Offices were nearly empty. Schools and colleges were closed. The Bombay Stock Exchange and the National Stock Exchange remained shut. What floods, incessant rains, train blasts, blasts in the BSE, blasts in the midst of crowded markets, blasts in random vehicles around the city, communalism and bloody riots couldn't damage was accomplished by these young ordinary-looking, gun-toting terrorists in one fell swoop.

However, we are Mumbaikars and our resilience shines within each and every one of us. It is this spirit that makes Mumbai what it is; that makes us what we are. We may be down, but we are most certainly not out. Life is slowly getting back to normal. The streets look haunted no more, the trains are fuller. People travelling all over the city are tense but tough. We are Mumbaikars and we will not go down without a fight. We may not fight back with weapons and violence, but fight we will. Our determination to survive through this is shown not by picking up a gun but by going on with our lives. By trying to bring about a sense of normality within our lives, we are fighting back. We will not bow down to this mindless terror. We will not be afraid of you. You are cowards and we know it. You may be determined, but your determination is nothing compared to ours. Not for nothing is the Mumbai spirit admired. We are hurt but not broken. We are bouncing back even as you make your desperate attempts to create even more mayhem in this urban warfare.

We are Mumbaikars and although we fight on with our resilience, we will not forget; cannot forget. We have forgotten in the past. We bounce back but we don't remember. We don't demand security. We don't insist on explanations and clarifications. We don't ask "How?" We don't demand the answers that we should. But no more is this acceptable. Now we demand answers. We demand retribution for the slain police men's widows, for the parents who are suddenly without children, for the woman in Delhi who excitedly planned her wedding in vain, for the family whose sole bread winner was killed, for the son who has been orphaned, for those foreign nationals touring India, for the man who ushered his hotel guests to safety even as his wife and children were killed in a fire - for all those people whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We seek justice.

To all those Mumbaikars and fellow world citizens who lost their lives to this mindless terrorism - R.I.P. Our thoughts rest with you.

Five Things You Don't Know About My Younger Self

I really wanted to update the blog and this is the best post idea I could come up with. Yeah. Do you care to know things about me when I was younger? I highly doubt it. Do you have to put up with it anyway? You bet!

Hey, it could be mildly entertaining you know. It could!



(1) I was morbidly obese as a kid and all the way through school. Well, I'm no Mary Kate Olsen now either, but I'm thinner than before. Dude, I was huge!

I would show you a pic, but then I would have to kill you.

(2) I had convinced my neighbour that the building outside my bedroom window was a deserted ruin and haunted. As proof, I pointed out the white shadows constantly moving past the windows. We even pretended we were part of Scooby and gang. Yes, Scooby Doo.

As it turns out, the building is an institute for cancer patients. The ghosts? In some parts, they're also known as doctors.

(3) I read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone when I was 10. Until my 11th birthday, I firmly believed I was going to get a letter from Hogwarts. After my 11th birthday, I convinced myself that it takes time for the letter to reach India all the way from the United Kingdom.

No, I'm not waiting for my Hogwarts letter anymore. I have learned to live with the fact that I'm a Muggle.

(4) I was a studious nerd/model student until 7th grade. My act of bravery was reading a book in class. The one time I did it, I was caught by the teacher. I felt so guilty that the book stayed untouched in my bag for three days.

Now, I'm an accidental nerd. I don't study but I get decent marks. Apparently that's the only qualification one needs. Hence the label.

(5) At one point of time, the box that my T.V. came in was the major source of entertainment for my neighbour and me. It was our boat that marooned us on a deserted island, it was our mansion. It was our modest hut, it was a shelter for our orphanage. It was a bed for our doll babies, it was all the modes of transport invented and then some. It was our hidey hole and our camphouse. It was everything we ever dreamed of.

The magic box in question is currently in my loft, filled with old toys.

Now, because I love the whole concept of tagging and no one is going to tag me ever, I'm gonna do the tagging myself. I tag Tanuj (Yes, you have to do this).

Random Thing To Do Today: Try not to think about zebra stripes and leopoard spots.

The End.

The Demise of the Great Indian Soap

And by that, of course, I mean Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi.

The show that has been going strong for the last eight years has finally reached the end of its rope. Star Plus has decided to axe the show 'cause of its sinking TRPs. I'm sure women all over the country are on the verge of a collective depression. My mom is on the verge of a breakdown. First Kahaani Ghar Ghar Ki was taken off air, now Kyunki is ready to bid its final farewell; my mom's world is not a happy place at the moment. Out of the 90 minutes she lived for every weeknight, 60 of those minutes have no meaning anymore. She still can't get over the fact that lovable, science defying Baa who stubbornly refused to die even as generations after her bit the dust, finally went into the light (and finally is not an understatement. Believe me). I keep trying to convince her that she was only a character on a television show and the actress isn't really dead, but all mom does is stare at me blankly and keep saying over and over again "I can't believe Baa is dead. How could they kill her? How can she die! How could they do this to us!?" And in response, I laugh and pointedly remind her that the show is going to end very very soon. Model daughter, eh?

I don't really find all this melodrama weird though 'cause hey, I'm no stranger to it myself. I had major withdrawl symptoms when Charmed ended. And who can forget the days before, during and after reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? I cried after each death. I sobbed hysterically for 20 minutes when Dobby died, and I didn't even like him that much! I completely emphatized with Facebook groups like After Harry Potter Seven Comes Out I Won't Have Anything To Live For, I've Read Harry Potter # 7, Now What Am I Supposed To Do With My Life?!?!, I Can't Believe Harry Potter Is Actually Over, I Wish I Could Get Amnesia So I Could Re-experience Harry Potter Anew ...... well, you get the picture.

Getting back to the point, yes I sympathize with Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi lovers everywhere. I might not understand why you love what you love but I understand your broken hearts. I might find it absurd how you lap up whatever the show offers; the just-for-the-heck-of-it generation leaps, the deaths and re-births, the plastic surgeries, the so-bad-they're-funny dialogues, the ludicrous situations, the foolishness of it all; but my heart goes out to all you fans in this time of grief as you say goodbye to the show that spawned a saas-bahu revolution in Indian television. So goodbye Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. And good riddance too.

Forwards Can Be Cool

Usually, forwards are just annoying old chain letters which, if not forwarded, will apparently bring you 50 years of bad luck/make you die a slow torturous death/help to save the life of a 7 year old cancer afflicted kid who has been 7 since I wasn't even born/make sure you're haunted by the ghost of a very old, very pissed off woman until the day you die or help you hook up with your crush like, that very night!!11! ZOMGZZ!!111!eleven!!11!

But some forwards are actually pretty funny. And once in a while, you may even find one that you absolutely love. Here's my once in a while that was forwarded to me today. It's a bit long but totally worth it :-)

One day, a Maths teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving some space between each name. Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the students the remainder of the class period to finish their assignments; and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper and listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday, she gave each student his or her list.


Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!" and, "I didn't know others liked me so much," were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.

Several years later, one of the students was killed in the Kargil war and his teacher attended his funeral. The place was packed with his friends. One by one, those who loved him took a last walk. The teacher was the last one. As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came upto her. "Were you Sanjay's Math teacher?" She nodded. Then he said "Sanjay talked about you a lot."

After the funeral, most of Sanjay's former classmates were there. Sanjay's parents were waiting to speak to the teacher. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Sanjay when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. Without looking, the teacher knew that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Sanjay's classmates had said about him.

"Thank you so much for doing that," Sanjay's mother said. "As you can see, Sanjay treasured it."

All of Sanjay's former classmates started to gather around. Smiling rather sheepishly, Arjun said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer in my desk at home."

Prithviraj's wife said, "Prithviraj asked me to put his in our wedding album."

"I have mine too," Rashmi said. "It's in my diary."

Then Deepali, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," she said, and without batting an eyelash, she continued, "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Sanjay and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be. Telling people you love and care for that they are special and important isn't a crime. Do it now while you still can rather than waiting until it's too late.

Ad-Mad

While coming home today, I saw a poster in the local train which made me smile at the creator's imagination. It said "Instead of reading this, shouldn't you be checking under your seat for any unattended baggage?", and was sponsored by Idea. In the wake of these bomb blasts that are becoming alarmingly regular in the country, I thought that the company displayed an incredibly creative conscience. And I did check under my seat too. So hey, it's effective as well.

An Early Halloween

Earlier, I sat to write a post and as I opened my browser, I was visited by a not-so-furry visitor. Not as much visited as attacked. By a bat. Not the wooden one, but the one with large flapping wings. OK, not so much attacked as scared out of my wits, but let me tell you, it felt just as bad as attacked.

Here I was, typing away and pretty much minding my own business, when suddenly out of nowhere, a freaked out winged thing sat on the CPU. At first, I thought it was an extra large moth. I was startled but not alarmed. Then I saw the "moth" spread out its extra large black wings. Realization struck me. I chose to handle the situation in my usual calm, collected manner. I screamed like a banshee, threw open the window and ran out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me.

I didn't start hyperventilating. I didn't! Almost doesn't count. And even though I thought that the bat's wings might have brushed my shoulder, I resisted the urge to run into the shower. Also, for some reason, I thought it would be smart to take a stick and bang it around in the room-with-the-bat through the ventilator. I hoped to achieve nothing whatsoever by doing this, but it seemed smart at the time. Then I sat in the drawing room armed with my stick, as I waited for mom to get home and shoo the bat away. I decided to stay put and guard the room till my mom arrived. I only left when I went to try on my new shorts, which as it turns out aren't brown but grey. Apparently I was struck with temporary colourblindness in the store. And hey don't judge me just 'cause new things make me not hyperventilate. We all have our security blankets.

Anyway, my mom got home and checked the room but the bad had flown out (hopefully it isn't lurking anywhere in the corner. Ah! What was that brushing against my leg?). I'm proud I didn't freak out. Well not completely anyway. Come on, bats are scary! I scream like a little girl at the sight of a lizard. So how, how in the name of all things pink and chocolaty did Mother Nature expect me to cope with a bat? Heck, I can barely handle a cricket bat without it flying out of my hands ten seconds into the game! So yes, I was extremely brave given the circumstances. I was!

And the strangest part? The whole time I was guarding the-room-with-the-bat, all I kept thinking was how this would make a good blog post. Bloggers Anonymous much?

Satire, Sarcasm, Mockery = ♥

I found this amazingly hilarious website called Go Fug Yourself. Yes, a detailed explanation about the term "fug" can be found. It is basically a blog run by two girls who openly (sometimes subtly) make fun of certain fashion choices of celebrities. I know it's not nice to laugh at the fashion blunders of others and their comments border and tip toe their way on harsh but my god they're so funny that they'll make you laugh out loud (and/or snort out liquids that you might have foolishly been consuming while reading their posts). The site combines two of my favourite things - fashion and humourous writing plus it's a scathing laugh riot. Ha, fun!



Go check it out :-)

Ah, The Wonders Of Retail Therapy

Seriously you can never, ever go wrong with a bit of shopping to jazz up your life. I mean, what is life without shopping? Incredibly blah, that's what.

I bought my first pair of Converse sneakers today! Yes, yay! Remember how excited I was at the thought of owning a purple pair? Well, turns out, you don't really get the purple ones in India. But I got a nice olive green pair which is apparently called military green now. Eh. They kind of look like this. A shade darker, I think, white laces instead of military green and not so canvas-y and fluffy looking.

I also bought a couple of other things. Two pairs of plaid shorts to laze around the house, two pairs of jeans with which I'm in love, denim capris and brown shorts. I dragged my mom to so many places and she came without a fuss, for which I am eternally grateful. My mom's a smart one, she is. Usually when we're out shopping, I have to spend about 10 minutes convincing her how every little thing I have my eye on is a good investment. If I thought a particular nightwear item was adorable, her reaction would be "Why do you want to actually spend money on something you're never going to wear in public? Wear those (ratty old) clothes that you already have (which were new when I was 10)." Today, however we had decided a firm budget for me and not a rupee more. So when I spotted those cute little plaid shorts, this is how the conversation went:

Me: Ooh! Mom look! Those are soo cute! I want this one. Can I buy it? Please? Pretty please?

Mom: What is that for? [tone getting high pitched] Are you going to wear that outside? Look at how short it is!

Me: Mom, relax. It's for wearing at home. Can I buy a pair?

Mom: Oh. Yeah sure.

Me: [confused about which colour to pick] Which ones? Both are equally cute.

Mom: . . . .

Me: [all hesitant] Um... can I... uh... buyboththesepairs?

Mom: Sure.

Me: Really?! Thank you thank you thank you! Hey, wait a minute. You're only agreeing 'cause the money's coming out of my budget, right?

Mom: [grinning] Yup.

Anyway, by the time I got home, I had so many parcels in my hand (Mom insists on asking that each item be given in a separate bag. She really likes those bags. And free stuff). But I also like carrying all those bags 'cause it makes me feel like I've shopped a lot. Yes, I'm only slightly insane.


And even though I was so tired that I could have fallen asleep climbing up the stairs, and my feet were so sore that I was constantly hallucinating about a hot water foot bath, I was completely happy. Did I not tell you retail therapy works wonders?

P.S. New Converse! Yay-ness!

Apparently It's Diwali!

Well, Happy Diwali then. I can't believe I almost missed the first day of the holiday. I had no idea that it began today; not until I was very rudely awakened by the ghastly cracker cacophony at an unearthly hour this morning. Yeesh!


One thing I love about Diwali is that it is a brilliant excuse for me to splurge on shopping. Yeah, yeah, I know it's the festival of lights and the diyas and rangolis are really pretty and blah; but for me it'll always be the season de shopping! I'm not really a traditionalist when it comes to these things and hello, did I mention the shopping? Sure, the crackers are terribly annoying, but hey, there's nothing like a bit of retail therapy to brighten your mood.

Crackers. Aah. The bane of my happy Diwali existence. Everywhere you go these three (apparently four) days, every minute of the freakin' day, you just cannot escape the awful, awful noisy crackers. You have to be fully prepared to be awoken at a time no sane person should be up by the stupid, relentless noises that go on and on and on and on. And of course, if you're planning to catch up on your beauty sleep in the day or plan to tuck in early, fat chance mister. Did I not mention the relentlessness of the sounds? Even as I type, the crackers being burst below my building keep startling me. Argh!

And not only are these crackers slowly murdering the environment (air pollution and noise pollution), encouraging child labour, scaring innocent animals (not to mention humans. Those sounds send me into a cardiac arrest every single time), they are also just plain annoying. So, this Diwali, kids, say no to crackers and stop irritating the hell outta me. [/rant]

Five People Whose Butts Himesh Kicks

This is a funny article I read in JAM yesterday. Some parts made me laugh out loud and be thankful that I wasn't drinking something. No plagiarism intended. I just wanna share what I really liked. The credit goes totally to Chirag Mahabal, a hilarious JAM writer and cartoonist. Enjoy :-)


P.S. You totally won't get it if you have no idea who Himesh Reshammiya is + you don't live in India (preferably Mumbai).

1. Santa Claus


You can love him(esh), or you can hate him(esh) but you can absolutely not ignore him(esh). How can you when every possible mode of transport known to man has him blaring on the speakers! He's taken hold of the rickshaws, the taxis, your car's stereo and now... even the buses! He's everywhere! So now Himesh knows when you're sleeping, Himesh knows when you're awake and Himesh knows if you've been good or bad so be good for Himesh's sake. Cab Santa even compete with that kind of influence? You only tell...

2. George Bush


So what if George Bush is the leader of the biggest superpower in the world? Does he have Himesh's cap? And does it really matter that the future of India's energy problem is in George Bush's hands? Does Bush have the ability to record 76,000 songs a day? George Bush has an entire staff of strategists and writers who spoon feed his speeches and his next steps to him. Himesh composes, writes, sings, acts in, decides the cinematography of, choreographs and decides the model that is going to act in his music video all my him(esh)self!

3. Muttiah Muralitharan


Ha! You think Muttiah Muralitharan has the unfair advantage of being able to bend and twist his arm to impossible degrees in order to spin the ball? Have you seen the extent to which Himesh twists his arm just to hold the microphone upside down? Imagine what he could do with a cricket ball! In a recently conducted survey, helpless infants and adolescent children were asked what scared them more - Murli's face when he released the spinning ball or Himesh's screaming new avatar in his latest film Karzzz. The results were overwhelming. Compared to Himesh's all teeth baring face, Murali looked like a story telling grandmother from England.

4. James Bond


So what if Bond has the coolest gadgets and the suave personality? Can he turn around asfastaslightning and scream out "Drop the gun I say... DROP THE GUN I SAY!"? So what if Bond has the cool Alfa Romeo in his latest movie? Can he summon a fleet of rickshaws to his help whenever he wants? Even if it is Europe or the Sudan Terrain? And so what if James Bond has the scantily clad women? Can he dance in weddings with teenage girls and still manage not to be called a paedophile? Abhi bol! Abhi BOL!

5. Michael Jackson


Wacko Jacko has his "Aaow!" But aapdo Himesss has his never ending, glass shattering, impossibly echoing "Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!" You might have heard Michael Jackson's falsettos, but have you ever heard anything even remotely as nasal as Himesh's latest album? And Wacko Jacko achieved all his fame and fortune after changing his nose at least a hundred times. Himesh has sung all his superhit songs that have broken all the records WITH JUST ONE NOSE! In your reconstructed face, MJ!

Airtel is amusing :D

I saw the new Airtel commerical promoting their voice SMS service today. And I thought it was really witty and cute. It has Saif Ali Khan, Shah Rukh Khan and Kareena Kapoor. It plays up the chemistry that Saif and SRK shared in Kal Ho Na Ho and it also cashes in on Saif and Kareena's relationship. The concept of the whole ad is really smart and not OTT and the person who thought of it should totally be appreciated. Charming :)

A Great Day :-)

Today started out normally enough. Had to go to college for our upcoming BMM fest meeting. Since I was early and I hate waiting, I was pretty happy to be spotted by some of my junior college classmates and began chatting happily. And when they asked me whether I'd seen Ranbir Kapoor in H.R. (i.e. the college next to mine), I obviously thought there was some amount of leg pulling going on. But when they convinced me by pointing out the vanity van, camera crew and the fact that they'd seen him themselves, I became a teensy bit excited.

Don't get me wrong. I live in Mumbai, so I have chanced upon the odd celebrity here and there. Minor ones, but celebrities nonetheless. However, this was different. The three Bollywood men I love with all my heart are Abhishek Bachchan, Ranbir Kapoor and Imran Khan. So OK, maybe teensy bit excited was an understatement. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him, I stood at the gate for 15 minutes. When people asked me why I was on guard duty instead of going inside, I squealed excitedly that I was waiting for Ranbir Kapoor. Yeah I'm a fangirl. So sue me. But apparently, I was the only one excited 'cause every other person kept laughing at me and called him gay. Stupid, stupid people.

Eventually I did manage to see him. For a little less than a minute. And I'm still ecstatic! The unit members were very hostile towards us though. They shooed us away thrice. After that my pride was wounded and I refused to go stare at him again. Oh and the make up artists had crowded around Ranbir, so I couldn't see anything besides his clothes anyway (green tee, blue jeans. Yes, fangirls are obsessive).



I'm totally excited. But frankly, I think he looks better on screen than he does in person. And he looked extremely grumpy. He wouldn't even glance at the adoring crowd that strained to catch a glimpse of him, which, I thought, was extremely rude. Is it too much to ask to just smile and wave at your fans? Fans, without whom, you wouldn't be as popular as you are? The attitude left me miffed and kind of lowered my love. But hey, there's always Abhishek, right?

If Wishes Were Horses...

Well, if wishes were horses, I'd have half a dozen stables full! My most recent obsession is owning a pair of Converse sneakers. Desperate, desperate obsession. And not any old pair from the lanes of Bandra; but the original shoes, which (according to the official Converse website) are only supplied to Planet Sports outlets in India. So Planet Sports it is. I still can't imagine shelling out 2k for a pair of shoes. Footwear for God's sake! But then again, this obsession has a life of its own. I stare at the Converse website so often, I would have made it my homepage if I didn't think it would have been the final nail in my coffin of insanity. Until about 15 minutes ago, all I wanted was a pair of red hi-top chucks. Then, Fashionista.com introduced the whole new possibility of owning purple hi-top chucks! And I was hooked.

I am like a junkie and I want my drug. PurpleConverse PurpleConverse PurpleConverse PurpleConverse PurpleConverse. Hey, you never know; maybe if I say it enough, a pair of them will magically appear on my doorstep.

P.S. As long as my footwear related wishes are getting fulfilled, I wouldn't say no to a pair of these ballet flats I've been lusting after since this morning :)

And I'm Back!

Yes, yes I am. After nearly a three month disappearing act, I'm back in blogdom. What made me come back? Some big event taking a hold of my life? No, nothing quite that dramatic. I'm just here 'cause I have exams going on and I'm skilfully dodging the books. Plus I'm trying to convince myself that since I have my Computer exam tomorrow, sitting in front of a computer counts as studying. Well it should!

Anyway, I have nothing to write about personal events except that I hate exams and I hate having to pretend to be studying. I read something interesting in yesterday's issue of YA! paper (yes, I like reading children's' newspapers. So?). The cover story focused on some really spooky coincidences that have taken place throughout history and I thought some of them were pretty good. So here you go.

Seeing Double

A German mother who photographed her infant son in 1914 left the film to be developed at a store in Strasbourg. In those days some film plates were sold individually. World War I broke out and unable to return to Strasbourg, the woman gave up the picture for lost. Two years later, she bought a film plate in Frankfurt, over 100 miles away to take a picture of her newborn daughter. When developed, the film turned out to be a double exposure, with the picture of her daughter superimposed on the earlier picture of her son. Through some incredible twist of fate, her original film, never developed, had been mislabeled as unused, and had eventually been resold to her.

Childhood Book

While American novelist Anne Parrish was browsing bookstores in Paris in the 1920s, she came upon a book that was one of her childhood favourites - Jack Frost and Other Stories. She picked up the old book and showed it to her husband, telling him about the book she fondly remembered as a child. Her husband took the book, opened it, and on the flyleaf found the inscription "Anne Parrish, 209 N Weber Street, Colorado Springs." It was Anne's very own book.

Poe Puzzle

In the 19th century, the famous horror writer, Edgar Allan Poe, wrote a book called The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym. It was about four survivors of a shipwreck who were in an open boat for many days before they decided to kill and eat the cabin boy whose name was Richard Parker.
Some years later, in 1884, the yawl, Mignonette, foundered, with only four survivors, who were in an open boat for many days. Eventually the three senior members of the crew killed and ate the cabin boy. The name of the cabin boy was Richard Parker.

Taxi Trouble

In 1975, while riding a moped in Bermuda, a man was accidentally struck and killed by a taxi. One year later, this man's brother was killed in the very same way. In fact, he was riding the very same moped. And to stretch the odds even further, the very same taxi driven by the very same driver - and even carrying the very same passenger struck him!

Mirror Images

The twin brothers, Jim Lewis and Jim Springer, were separated at birth, adopted by different families. Unknown to each others, both families named the boys James. Both James grew up not knowing of the other, yet both sought law enforcement training, both had abilities in mechanical drawing and carpentry, and each had married women named Linda. Both had sons, one of whom was named James Alan and the other named James Allan. The twin brothers also divorced their wives and married other women - both named Betty. And they both owned dogs which they named Toy.

Crowning Glory

In Monza, Italy, King Umberto I, went to a small restaurant for dinner, accompanied by his aide-de-camp., General Emilio Ponzia-Vaglia. When the owner took King Umberto's order, the King noticed that he and the restaurant owner were virtual doubles, in face and in build. Both men began discussing the striking resemblance between each other and found many more similiarities.
1. Both men were born on the same day of the same year, March 14, 1844.
2. Both men had been born in the same town.
3. Both men married a woman with the same name, Margherita.
4. The restaurateur opened his restaurant on the same day that King Umberot was crowned King of Italy.
5. On July 29, 1900, King Umberto was informed that the restaurateur had died that day in a mysterious shooting accident, and as he expressed his regret, an anarchist in the crowd assassinated him

And finally...

Revenge Killing

IN 1883, Henry Ziegland broke off a relationship with his girlfriend who committed suicide. The girl's enraged brother hunted down Ziegland and shot him. Believing he had killed Ziegland, the brother then took his own life. However Ziegland had not been killed. The bullet had only grazed his face, lodging into a tree. It was a narrow escape. Years later, Ziegland decided to cut down the same tree, which still had the bullet in it. The huge tree seemed so formiddable that he decided to blow it up with dynamite. The explosion propelled the bullet into Ziegland's head, killing him.

<(^_^<) (>^_^)>

Saturday night was P-A-R-T-Y night. Whoo! My college had the convocation ceremony for the graduates slash the freshers party for the B.M.M. students. I think they had both at one go so 'cause they're way too miserly to shell out bucks for two parties. So they settled for one instead. That's just my theory though. Of course the college didn't really spend on this party either. They asked all the B.M.M. students to donate Rs. 200 for the party, so it was sort of like we're throwing the party for ourselves. That's kinda sad, yeah?

Anyhoo, everything was oodles of fun. Even the formal ceremony where the graduates got to wear their black gowns and caps. I was oh so jealous of all of them. And when they posed for photos and collectively threw their caps into the air, I got goosebumps. I can't wait to wear that gown and throw my very own cap!

The entertainment section was with the skit and dance and stuff. Oh then there were the chief guests; the most famous of them being Cyrus Broacha and Shiney Ahuja. I loved hearing Cyrus speak 'cause he was hilarious as always, and had the audience in splits with his slightest comment and expressions. He told us some inappropriate stories as well, which we students enjoyed tremendously but the principal looked scandalised. Cherry on our cake :-D

The most fun part of the evening was the afterparty, which was shocking 'cause I was sure I wasn't gonna dance. Not that I don't like dancing. I like it a lot. But only within the confines of my own home and without any witnesses. Bathroom dancer, if you will. Though that would be kind of weird 'cause high possibilities of me slipping and breaking my neck while dancing in the bathroom.

But when the D.J. started playing some of my favourite songs, I just couldn't resist. Hey, it was dark and the dance floor was crowded. No one was interested in seeing how bad I was at dancing. That's what I told myself, anyway. The crowded part was horribly true. At one point, there was a classmate dancing behind me, and I accidentally kept banging my head against his every few minutes. I would have been embarrassed but I'm still hoping he didn't notice me. Anyway, once I hit the dance floor, there was no stopping me. I danced and danced like a crazy person. And here I am, two days later, with my body still aching and my muscles still groaning at the torture I put them through. Ah well. The end.

*rolling on the floor laughing* well, not literally, duh.

Oh it's been too long since I posted. A week maybe? OK not that long then. Anyhoo, I found this amazingly hilarious site called Bash. It's a pretty simple site where users can post funny chats that they've been a part of or have witnessed. You would have to browse through the site to believe the hilarity that is generated on the Net in such large quantities. For example, this is a convo I found:

(egof) I'm not that nerdy, I've only seen 30% of the star trek episodes

(kaj) if you know what percentage of the star trek episodes you have seen, you are inarguably nerdy

(egof) it's unarguably

(kaj) you are not helping your case

*laughs*

Oooh and here's another one:

(Guo_Si) Hey, you know what sucks?

(TheXPhial) vaccuums

(Guo_Si) Hey, you know what sucks in a metaphorical sense?

(TheXPhial) black holes

(Guo_Si) Hey, you know what just isn't cool?

(TheXPhial) lava?

.... and another one:

(ZyblOre) get up

(ZyblOre) get on up

(ZyblOre) get up

(ZyblOre) get on up

(phxl|paper) and DANCE

* nmp3bot dances :D-<
* nmp3bot dances :D|-<
* nmp3bot dances :D/-<

([SA]HatfulOfHollow) i'm going to become rich and famous after i invent a device that allows you to stab people in the face over the internet

And this last one is just so unbelievably funny! It's a bit long, but make sure you hang on till the end ^_^

(DeadMansHand) haha, last night, me and pete went out to celebrate his engagement and got hugely drunk

(DeadMansHand) we got this great idea to bury eachother in the sand close to the water and see who would chicken out first

(DeadMansHand) took about a half hour, but the water got up to my face so i freaked and got out

(DeadMansHand) i looked around for pete and he must've chickened out before me and stumbled home or something heh

(DeadMansHand) What'd he say when he woke up this morning?

(Thirteen-) uhh.. he hasn't come home yet.. i thought he was staying with you?

(DeadMansHand) holy f@#$

(DeadMansHand) i f@#$ing hope im wrong about what im thinking right now

(DeadMansHand) im f@#$ing going back to the beach to make sure

(DeadMansHand) if he gets home, call me, i don't want to be worrying about this

(Thirteen-) will do. you better hope he's not still buried, you'll be in deep S&%^

*quit: (DeadMansHand)*

(Tyran) wtf? pete came home last night you f@#$. Ken's going to be worrying about this s&%^ all day

(Thirteen-) haha yea, but it will be fun while it lasts

*join: (PeteRepeat) (bob@3F8C4655.11D1C8C.18637D35.IP)*

(PeteRepeat) f@#$ing ken

(PeteRepeat) ken... that f@#$er buried me in the sand last night, i ran off about 5 minutes to it, left him there to be an idiot

(quiqsilver) pete, ken didn't come back last night, i thought he was with you.

(PeteRepeat) oh f@#$.

(PeteRepeat) if ken shows up, make sure he doesn't know that im at the beach digging for his body. i don't want him to think i care or anything.

*quit: (PeteRepeat)*

(Thirteen-) rofl. Those 2 are going to get a huge surprise when they meet at the beach.

(Tyran) i can't beleive how perfect their timing was

Did I not promise you ensured hilarity? There are many more convos copy-pasted by the users and you should so check the site out. You can visit it through here. Check out the Top 100 and Top 200 too.

In case you thought neither of these were funny, go read another blog or something.

*Green with envy*

I am so *so* jealous of my friend. He's off in Pune enjoying himself like crazy. He didn't get into the college of his choice here in Mumbai, so he decided to pursue his Bachelors in Mass Media in Pune. That by itself is nothing to be envious about. This is. He's living in an apartment which he rented with three of his classmates. It might not seem like such a big deal to those of you who are accustomed to this sort of thing, but me, I've never lived anywhere except Mumbai within the comforts (confines?) of my own home. His roommates hail from far flung places like Surat, Chennai and Delhi. Since their classes haven't started yet, they stay awake all night, talking and spend the day exploring the city and eating out at cheap restaurants. They're broke college students. What else did you expect?And here I am, studying BMM in a college that is apparently considered the Bombay IIT of BMM colleges. Which is to say, it's a pretty damn good college. It has always been a dream that I would study Mass Media in this college and I'm finally on my way to fulfilling my dream. And I'm miserable! I love the classes, don't get me wrong. It's just the people I can't stand. Most of them are townies or at least behave like they are. Townies is a term synonymous with people living in South Mumbai and they are generally considered to be class A snobs. So, obviously, these people are not my type of people. Then there's the nicer lot of people in my class. They are sweet and simple and everything. But I have the feeling they are too simple for my liking. They seem to like studying (oh, the travesty!) and refuse to bunk lectures even to watch Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na! A movie that I'm so desperate to watch that I'm ready to sit in the theatre all by myself without feeling the slightest trace of embarrassment. So, basically, neither of these people are my type of people! I just drift in and out of class smiling and being all nice while I'm cringing on the inside. And my friend has already made a bunch of friends. His classes haven't even begun! I would so trade places with him in a heartbeat.

If you think of a title, lemme know!

I'm becoming even lazier than usual. I should post more often, yeah? Well, I did start college so busy-busy. Anyway, the whole point of this too-late post is, I saw this wonderful print ad in yesterday's newspaper. The article I spotted it in was about how print ads don't necessarily have to be short to make an impact. They just have to be catchy. Boy, is that true! I totally loved the concept of the ad even though it's grim. This ad is by Contract Advertising and it won the Cannes Gold Lion this year. For those of you who don't know, the Cannes Gold Lion awards are to advertising what the Oscars are to movies.


Like I said, grim. But wonderfully done. (If the pic is too small to view, just click on it).

P.S. For those of you who didn't understand the ad *glares at the offender* read the fine print at the bottom. It says "In India, every year 1.1 million unborn baby girls die before they're born. To stop female foeticide, contact the Aadhar Association at 022 - 28885018

The ad is about spreading awareness about female foeticide and jolting the readers' sensibility people! It's not just some sick twisted thing that I fell in love with! Jeez!

Free Hug Campaign

This video link was passed on to me by Tanuj and I am so in love with the entire thing. The guy in the video is the first person to launch the Free Hug Campaign in India. I had never heard of this concept before, and now that I have, I am still so much in shock at the awesomeness of it. The whole basic idea is this. People aka huggers just stand on the street with posters/sheets of paper that have "Free Hugs" written on them. The huggers go to different places or may even choose a particular spot with just one goal in mind. Hug as many people as they can. Why? So that they can spread a little bit of cheerfulness in someone's life. That's right. They hug random strangers (only those that come upto them to be hugged, of course) in an effort to bring smiles on the peoples' faces. No money involved, no selfish motive. They just want to hug, be hugged and spread the love. How amazingly fantabulous is that? When I watched the video, I was so touched that I became all teary eyed. Something of this sort, in India of all places, is unheard of! Women here are already suspicious enough of strange men on the road. And hugging an unknown guy? Not even in their wildest dreams! But he still did it. And was so so successful. People of all ages took part in this hugathon. I had no idea that this concept was a global thing. Kudos to Juan Mann who thought of it and to the countless people all over the world who haven't hesitated to hug and be hugged without any inhibitions. If you want to know more about this campaign, look here and here. Hope you enjoy the video. :)

"Be a love pharmacist: dispense hugs like medicine - they are!" - Terri Guillemets

MTV Splitsvilla - Reality Bites

As soon as I saw the promos for this show, I knew I was gonna hate it on principle. The concept of the entire show has to be one of the most insulting ones I've come across. The basic idea is this. There are two snooty guys who are convinced that they're god's gift to females everywhere. They can do and say whatever they want 'cause hey, they are the catch. Then you have 20 girls. I still cannot believe that they got even 1 girl to be a part of this show, let alone 20. These girls will resort to anything and everything to grab the guys' attention which includes prancing around in minimal clothing and cheap, attention grabbing stunts like dancing atop tables. All this insanity for what? A chance to find their "Mr. Perfect", earn 5 lakh rupees and host a show on MTV. Pathetic wouldn't be an overstatement here. It looks like these girls have left every last ounce of dignity and self-respect they had back home and come to be a part of this dating reality show. I think it's an extremely demeaning concept for a show, no less coming from the makers of Roadies; a show which I really enjoyed. Even though I think it is sexist, I would be equally offended had it been 2 girls and 20 guys. The basic idea of the whole show is stupid.

The only thing I like about the show is Ranvijay who is really cute and wears great clothes *grins* I used to like Varun (one of the two arrogant guys) too in the good old Roadies days, but that was before I read on the official MTV Splitsvilla website that he had once had the audacity to use this so called pick-up line "Nice pair of mountains, when will I get a chance to climb them?" It is things like this that make me lose faith in the human race.

Grumpiness >:(

I'm feeling a teensy bit grumpy, and I've decided to put that to some use by making a post out of it. I realised I hadn't written for a while so here's something productive I did with my not-so-great mood. Tada!

A list of things I *absolutely* loathe!

(1) Bad grammar. Oh my god you people with sucky English, stop talking! Go speak another language or something.

(2) The rain. Refer to previous post.

(3) People who don't reply to my text messages or reply horrendously late with no explanation whatsoever. Have you not heard of common courtesy?

(4) Pigeons. Why are they here? No idea. Of what use are they? Absolutely none. What do they do? Nothing except sitting around and startling people with their scary red eyes. What should they be doing? Stop existing.

(5) People who honk unnecessarily and continually at traffic jams. Your stupid horn isn't going to magically make the cars move ahead believe it or not!

(6) People who tYpE LiKe tHiS.

(7) Or lyk dis. For all those of you who think tawkin lyk dis iz kewl, it's called English. Learn it.

(8) Being broke. Money can't buy you happiness, eh? Well I'm sure there are loads of things I can buy to stave off depression if I had some.

(9) Taxi and rickshaw drivers who won't take me to my French class from Bandra station or home from Elphinstone station just 'cause the fare would be minimum. I get rejected by some 5-6 taxis or ricks before someone finally pities me. And it makes me want to curse all those taxiwallas and rickshawwallas to oblivion!

(10) Bad English. Yeah, it deserves to be on here twice.

Let There Be Rain..... Or Not

It's that time of the year again. Rain, rain and more rain. Monsoons right? What's not to love? The infamous Mumbai floods, the resultant traffic jams, the inability to remain dry - oh yeah, no wonder so many people await the rains so eagerly. Yes, I'm anti-monsoon 'cause it screws up my Internet and then I have absolutely no life; either offline or online.

I like the whole idea of the rain, more than the actual season. Sure it sounds great. And it acts as a great heat dispel-ler. The clichéd fantasy of sitting near your window as it pours, sipping hot cocoa or eating hot buttered corn, or curled up with your favourite novel, seems pretty good when you think about it. But the fact of the matter is that everyone can't spend four months doing nothing. It would get a tad boring, not to mention the havoc it would create in the city. "Where's the doctor?! My wife's gone into labour!" "Oh, I'm sorry, she'll just have to wait. The doctor is busy eating buttered corn at the moment." Yeah, not that great, eh? And getting wet in the rain is fun if you have nothing else to do. But when you're returning home from college and it starts to pour, you're more worried about protecting your bag/books from getting drenched rather than dancing about as if there's no tomorrow (I've always found this phrase a bit stupid. Of course there's a tomorrow. How can there not be? You don't expect to skip straight to next week, do you? Well unless you've built a time machine or something, I think not).

Franky speaking, the monsoon is just a major pain. Your jeans get all muddy and have to be washed daily but they take ages to dry. The umbrella and the windcheater have to be the most useless inventions ever. Maybe they actually work in places other than Mumbai. But here, whichever I use, I still end up completely drenched. Even if I use both together. Maybe they're no match against the stubborn Mumbai rains. And then there are the floods. Ever since that July day in 2005, we Mumbaikars have gotten accustomed to experiencing something regularly, something we'd only read about earlier. The floods *scary music* It's become something of a trend now to boast about how much water your vicinity has gathered. "Oh! You know, there's ankle deep water outside my building!" "Ha! That's nothing! In my area, it's knee deep. So there!" Wading through the flooded areas has become second nature to most Mumbaikars. So has grumbling about the slow or, in some cases, non-existent train services in the city. It all ends up being the government's fault.

But the thing that pisses me off most is the disrupted Internet services. Even on good days, my net speed is nothing to boast about. But come the monsoons, it becomes a bloody snail. No site opens. The only thing that works is ICQ where I while away time playing trivia, as mom continually calls the Internet provider and harasses him. After I harass mom to call him, that is. It's all a vicious cycle.

Oh, my Internet is working properly again *celebratory dance* Enough of this anti-monsoon tirade. It's time for some Facebook-ing. Adios!

Yeah, wonders of the glorious rains, eh?

Delhi Stuff

OK so here's presenting... a long overdue post. I can't even say something like I was sick or busy or something 'cause I wasn't. Just plain old laziness.

Anyhoo, I had gone to Delhi with this set pre-conceived notion that it was gonna be terrible. I have this amazing superiority complex about all things Mumbai and hate anything Delhi. Well maybe not hate, but hold a strong dislike for. But it wasn't that bad. Mumbai still rocks and everything, and I can never imagine actually living in Delhi, but it wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be. On the 1st day, me and Tanuj were just plain jinxed. There's no other explanation. We tried to watch Chronicles of Narnia; the important word being tried. On the first attempt, he couldn't find any parking spot for his car, we didn't get tickets anyway 'cause we were late for the show and in the end his car got towed away. Being the positive people that we are, we tried to make the best outta the situation and catch an evening show at another movie theatre. Clearly the car hated us, 'cause on the way there, it got a puncture. Yeah. By that time I was pissed at the entire world. First the torturous train ride, now this. I was not loving Delhi. But then the shawarma dinner was delicious and cheap, which made me less grumpy. Next day I shopped, ate Momos (again, very cheap) and went to Big Chill which is the most fabulous restaurant I've ever been to. It has a fantastic ambience with Hollywood movie posters, mostly from the 1950's and 60's. It also had a Pirates of the Caribbean poster though and I was hooked. How could I not love an eatery that has Johnny Depp on its wall? I fell in love with the menus too and I wouldn't have thought it below my dignity to steal one. I managed to convince myself outta that plan, unfortunately. All in all, I still don't love Delhi, but I kinda in-an-odd-sort-of-way miss it. I *loved* the houses there (such huge, magnificent villas), the food that I had was great, loved the open spaces, giggled at the traffic jam caused by cattle but Mumbai still kick's Delhi's butt.

5 Reasons Why I Would Never Abandon Mumbai for Delhi

(1) The men there are horrible lechers. Much worse than in Mumbai even, which I didn't think was possible.

(2) Delhi doesn't have Vada Pav. How am I supposed to survive?

(3) Horrendously hot in summer. Frigidly freezing in winters. Only tolerable during the monsoon and I don't like the rain.

(4) No Arabian Sea = No beaches, No walks along Nariman Point = No Me.

(5) Mumbai is Mumbai. No other city like it. Yeah I'm a Mumbai snob. Didn't I warn you about the superiority complex?

P.S. Where would the world be without Wikipedia?

Dilemmas and such

I love travelling in trains, I really do. Especially inter-state trains, where I get really excited at the prospect of sleeping on the uppermost bunk. And I love how I get to see an India, different from the one I know in Mumbai, as I journey. Large fields, countless trees, small bustling cities, women carrying water pots on their heads, goats and sheep, children playing outside their huts; everything that I don't get to see in Mumbai. I enjoy it thoroughly. But everything has its limits. And staying cooped in the train for 31 hours; 8.5 hours more than intended, and you're bound to get frustrated with life.

What happened was this. I had to go to Delhi for an exam, which by train, takes around 24 hours. Due to the Gujjar problem in Rajasthan however, my train which was supposed to reach Delhi at 10.30 in the morning, pulled in at New Delhi station at 7 in the evening. And you really learn to appreciate the pleasures of standing on firm, solid ground once you've spent 31 hours in a constantly moving train. You learn to appreciate a lot of things, actually. Like a comfortable bed, clean loos which are actually stationary, cold water on a hot day (the ice in the train pantry ran out at one point), cold Pepsi, legroom, privacy. I have never hated anyone with such intensity as much as I hated the entire Gujjar tribe in the train. I was on the verge of desperate, helpless tears at one point and at another, I was convinced that the train was never going to reach Delhi. It was just going to turn and head back to Mumbai. I harassed my mom continually and I even threatened to jump out of the train a couple of times 'cause I was so fed up of the huge metal monstrosity. The people selling tea calling out "Chai Chai", the people selling water, those calling out various food items; I was ready to shoot them all. And then New Delhi station. Literally like a light at the end of the tunnel. My respite from this hell-hole (ok maybe not a hell-hole but hey, you try sitting in a train for 31 hours and let's see how you feel then!). I was at peace at last.

The Paschim Express. 31 hours of pure torture.

New Found Love

I've found a new love and it's called Cyanide & Happiness. I can't believe that I've never heard of this before; even though it's been around since forever (or more specifically since 2005). It's basically a comic strip series. What makes it so amazingly awesome is it's hilarious writing. The graphics aren't all that much; just your glorified stick figures. But the content, oh my god. For example :


How can you not burst into insane amounts of laughter with this? It's physically impossible. Ok yeah Cyanide & Happiness comics are politically incorrect, may also offend some people. Sometimes they're downright dumb. But oh so hilarious. If loving them is wrong, I don't want to be right! Another one :


Bwahahaha! Oh I'm so in love. All right then, one last one before I'm off.


Come on now. Admit it. You love it too. Oh here's where you'll find many, many more. Just take a look at the archives for ensured hilarity.

P.S. Just click on the pics to view them in a larger mode.

. . . And I'm Back!

Yes I am. Back from Delhi. So expect a few posts on my trip later. Right now I'm feeling way too lazy, so yeah. Anyway, I'm just writing this post to tell all those of you who haven't read The Kite Runner to kill yourself and then go buy a copy. Don't borrow one, buy it. I had read this book some time back but was re-reading it on the train ride to and from Delhi. I absolutely adore that book and I don't know anyone who hasn't immediately fallen in love with it; even people who don't read all that much. It's a truly touching tale and I won't spoil it for you by giving out the plot but, trust me, you just cannot not read it. And I dare you not to cry at least once throughout the whole book. Even if your heart is made of stone, you will feel your eyes well up at some point or the other. I, of course, burst into tears multiple times, which was sort of embarrassing 'cause I was in the train and people kept looking at me like they were worried for my sanity. Yeah. It's that heartwarming. I mean yeah, I cried even when Dumbledore died, but this book made many hard hearted people weep too so it has to be great. Get your copy today if you haven't already read it. After killing yourself for having waited this long, that is.



P.S. I can't wait to read A Thousand Splendid Suns by the same author.

PostSecret ♥

Look what secret I found on PostSecret's Facebook profile ^_^


Bwahaha! That's hilarious! I recently discovered PostSecret and I think it's an amazing concept. It started out as a blog on our very own Blogger and now books are published too. It's like a huge art project where people send in their hand decorated post cards revealing a secret of theirs anonymously. There are no restrictions on the secret, it can be absolutely anything. The site can be found here. I am in love with the whole thing and you should definitely check it out. The site gets updated every Sunday. If you liked the concept too, be sure to check it weekly 'cause there's no option for archives there. So you can't see the previous posts. The posts range from funny ones like the one above to really serious, disturbing ones so tread carefully. Other than all that, it's a lot of fun. Adios for now!

Grrrr >:(

This is purely a rant post. My yahoo committed suicide. It won't work. And what's worse, Yahoo mail won't work either. It has the audacity to say that I typed my password wrong. What The F. What sadistic pleasure does Yahoo get from keeping me away from my mail and friends. What does it want from me. And the worst part, it's working for others but not for me. Die Yahoo D.I.E.


Yeah, in case you didn't notice, I'm grumpy.

MTV Roadies The Finale

The Finale was loads of fun though I don't think the Roadies would agree. Ashu won; surprise surprise. I don't think there was anyone who didn't already know the outcome beforehand. But it was the way he won that was so much fun. And the things the other Roadies had to go through made the entire finale so deliciously awesome.

Basically the finalists, Ashu and Nihal, had nothing to do. Oh except for choosing their team mates, which was an exercise in futility 'cause the evil mastermind that is Raghu switched their teams anyway. Oh and they had to do a bit of slapping too. But apart from that - nothing. The remaining Roadies on the other hand... well let's just say things didn't turn out so hot for them. The five tasks they had to choose between were :

Kiss an iguana for a minimum of 5 seconds

(yeah this horrible yucky thing)

Get your nipples pierced

Get slapped by the captain aka finalist of the opposite team

Get your head shaved

Donate all your clothes i.e. every single garment you're wearing to captain of the opposite team and use newspaper and a stapler to cover your nakedness

Now with tasks like these how can it be possible that the show wasn't fun? What I find incredibly hard to digest is the fact that the Roadies actually participated in this insanity. They were apparently doing it for themselves; to prove that they had the Roadies Spirit. All that is fine and all, but seriously? They didn't even get a share of the money or anything. Some people might call it their sporting attitude. I call it utter stupidity. Well Snehashish and Varun did get a Karizma for all that they put up with. But still! *shakes head in wonder* When the result was a tie and Rannvijay announced that Sonel would get the deciding vote; the looks on the Roadies' faces was priceless. I laughed out loud.

All in all it was a very good end to an extremely good season. If I get pics of the tasks being performed, I'll definitely upload them. For now I'm off with this fantastic song stuck in my head called Bubbly by Colbie Caillat. Google it.

P.S. When Ashu called his mom she burst into tears demanding to know where he was and Nihal was all bewildered and asked him whether he ran away from home or something. I found that very funny for some reason.

Doing your bit

Greenpeace volunteers light candles on the rocks in front of the Bakhtawar residence of the chairman of the Tata group, Ratan Tata, during a protest in Mumbai.



Greenpeace is protesting against the Tata group for a proposed deep sea port in Orissa.

The Olive Ridley Turtle is one of the smallest species of sea turtles. It is also highly endangered. Orissa is one of the planet's last places where these turtles nest. If the Tatas build a port here, it's likely that the turtles would disappear and along with them an entire ecosystem would vanish. That's right, if the port is built, the Olive Ridley Turtles would go the way of the Dodo bird and never be seen again. Can you imagine a whole species ceasing to exist just because an industrialist couldn't be bothered about all this environmental talk and went ahead with what he wanted to do?

To find out more go here : Save the Turtles.

And while you're there, just sign the petition, yeah? It'll just take you a couple of minutes and it's not that tough either. Just sign the damn thing. And in the process you'll just be saving a species from extinction.