In dodo's head

picture from the internet what does it take, to not look at people from the tinted glasses of hate, to not judge so quickly, and brush off their pluses, and focus on their negatives. we all have our insecurities, we all like to keep them masked. why then do we choose, to attack people and lash out,  poking at the wrongs, and making them feel miserable. what joy is there to be had, in putting someone down. if at all, two or more words is to be spent, spend it on praise and encouragement, love and support. can we say it enough, life’s too short to live in hate. instead chose love.. focus on the ones you love. don’t indulge in hate. else someday your conscience will wake, now or later, surely it will,

Last weekend, I, with two of my close friends attended the Oxford Forum on International Development, a conference for students to sit and listen, and even interact with renowned people in the development field.  The trip started off in its usual characteristic chaotic way. We reached Oxford with fifteen minutes to spare (blame the London traffic!!). People around the bus stop did not know where the Said Business School was, we ended up using Sri's 'reliable' I-phone map which told us that our destination was 40 minutes of walking away. We were a little taken back having been told the bus stop was around the school.  Nevertheless not having much of an option we began our walk across the town of Oxford. After what it seemed like miles of walking, we asked another passer by for directions, only to be told that we were in fact going the opposite way. Circles around Oxford ensued, and we found ourselves finally in front of the School a whole hour late. The Confere...

A feeling of restlessness seems to have overcome me of late, listlessly watching the seconds on the clock tick as I do next to nothing. Books lie piled up in assorted stacks on my table, abandoned and ignored, chiding me with their silent stares. They must know too that I will regret this later. halong bay, september 2010 I had such a haunting dream the other night. I was in Goa, with my mother and some relatives. There was parasailing and there was boating in what looked like a lake. There we were, my mother and I in this boat. I kept seeing my old friends boating around too. I would wave to them, and we would exchange pleasantries. The place was beautiful, there were island cliffs on all sides much like what I had seen months ago in Halong bay. The lake seemed to be part of some of a zoo too. There were penguins perched on some of the rocks which jutted on the surface of the lake. I seemed to be feeling anxious, my camera was with one of the others who was not on our boat. W...

This morning, I stumbled upon 'Our Version of Events', an album by Emili Sande.. It has been on repeat ever since.. In particular, this soulful song called River.. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UUVFSJVfMU I f you're lookin' for the big adventure, And gold is all that's on your mind, If you want someone to take your picture, Then I won't waste your time See maybe I'm too quiet for you, You probably never noticed me, But if you're too big to follow rivers, How you ever gonna find the seas So follow me, I'll be your river river, I'll do the running for ya, follow me, I'll be your river river, I'll move the mountains for ya, Follow me, I'll be your river river, I'm here to keep you flowing, follow me, I'll be your river river, river river, yea If all you want are answers to your questions, And you can't seem to find the love, the free, You're lookin' for the right deriction, And darling look for me See, I can...

We walk amidst them all, Safe in our opaque cocoons, Which hides in it, The essence of us.

And as my mother and I took in the smell of roasted peanuts, the chatter of the monkeys, and the bustle of some going about their daily chores, a mist from nowhere descended upon Kasauli, covering us all in a grey opaque blanket.. Soon, the greens of the trees and whites of the buildings around us transformed to nothingness and we found ourselves lost in the darkness.

If there is one thing in this world that I abhor, as much as moths and butterflies and horror movies, it is public speaking. There is something about this task that makes me almost want to bury my head in the sand and hope no one looks my way. I remember back in Welham, Mrs Salaria, our English teacher would have these Just-a-minute sessions where everyone had to stand in front of the class and speak on a topic for a minute. Everytime it was my turn, I would just stand in front of the class, beet-root red cheeks and eyes all watery, and stare at the floor. She would coax me to piece together at least one sentence, and to her credit, she did finally manage to get a sentence or two in the last few classes, but that was all.. Now that I am here, I think back to those days a lot.. In my Manchester years, I managed to dodge a couple of presentations- either through some sort of bartering whereby I wrote 1000 words in a report for a friend in exchange of her speaking two minutes o...

One song that always takes me back to my Welham days is the 'Auld Lang Syne'.. our days as SCs (Class 12 students) when after every 'last school event', we would link arms and make a circle and sing aloud this wonderful song we barely knew the lyrics to..  Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne* ? For auld lang syne, my jo (or my dear), for auld lang syne, we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne. And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere ! and gie's a hand o’ thine ! And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught, for auld lang syne. For auld lang syne, my jo (or my dear), for auld lang syne, we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acxnmaVTlZA http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rId95N2teUc&feature=related  (BBC Orchestra Version for New Years)

It's been three months since I moved to London for my Masters, and the more I explore this place, the more I realise how wrong I was about it not as beautiful as many of the smaller cities. (Southbank, 23rd december 2011) It's got its own charm, and I see it now..  I am sorry London, to have been too quick to judge you.. Now that I know you more, and have begun to figure out your maze of roads and localities, I am beginning to appreciate you a lot more. #LessonLearned- Do not be too quick to form opinions. Give it time, it might grow on you..

So I think about those times a lot.. and the plot of most of my dreams seems to be focused on my Welham days.. It's been four years and the thread which binds me to that hallowed place still has not worn out by the spaces of time. I seem to live most of my life now in rewind motion.. I seem to think only of the days gone by, which I guess is because the future is only a question mark.. Oh how I miss my school! Welham.. Like all other memories, I only realise how precious the years I spent there were now.. I am finally beginning to understand why my parents gathered up the courage to send their only child far away from the comforts of their home to a small town in Northern India.. Being an only child means growing up feeling that the world revolves around you; closed ones always telling you how wonderful you are, fending you off from all things bad in the world, and protecting you.. They are there to hold you when you have a bad dream, there to cook or get you all that you ...

I have not thought of her as much as I ought to.. She was my first best friend and probably I will never find another as giving as she was.. I do not know how old she was when I was born, but as far back as my memory goes, she was there to run around me and look at me with those deep brown eyes. Angie was her name, or NG as I thought her name was as a kid.. It was only later when I was in boarding school that I realised the significance of the name my parents had given her. She was a German Shepherd and living up to that name, she was very protective of all those she thought of as her pack.. I remember days when we would play hide and seek, of course the team with Angie always won.. Of course she was not as helpful when it came to other things.. She would bury towels, cutlery and anything else that she could get her paws on in her house.. She did not let one stranger inside her gate, having her ensured that they (and cats of course) stayed at least a mile away from her house.. ...

It has been a rather intense few days finishing up my first assignment and hence I have not been able to update you about how I re-found the love of my life (Read  http://insideoutsight.blogspot.com/2011/11/ode-to-my-lost-card-holder.html  for further details.. lol).. So a little recap in case you can't be bothered to read it. This is the position in which I found it! I went to the Birkbeck (the University a few steps away from my College) Library to study as I was going nowhere with my essay and just getting constantly distracted. Of course as it happens to me, I got fascinated by the books they had in their library (related to the essay topic of course) and found myself wandering a little (important point) around where I was sitting with a friend. Come six p.m and I was ready to head home, when I realized my card holder which contained my newly issued Birkbeck library card along with my SOAS ID and Oyster was not in any of my pockets. Now those of you who know me wil...

It's true I took you for granted, There I was thinking,  You were safe in my coat pocket, And oh yee, I have lost you. If you came back, I swear I would treat you right. I would make a place for you In my possessions, And never let go of you again. Absence does make the heart go fonder. The whole way I walked home, Since you had my Oyster, And all I could think of, Was how I should have cared for you a bit more. I recall the last time I saw you, And I only wish I could turn back time, And keep you zipped up in my bag. You had in you things that were so important to me, Now I wonder how I will visit those places again, The Library, The JCR, Damn my carelessness. You know I repent it already, Forgive me just this time. Come back to me. I need you now.

(His)story was the way Miss Ghidiyal, our Class 7 teacher described what History was about. And isn't it so, History is essentially the story of Man. 'His story'. Of the rise and fall of civilizations. While most people shudder at the very thought of submerging themselves in this 'useless' subject, I find it a treat.. To read about the trials and tribulations of man. To read about conquests, narcissistic rulers and their wily advisers, backstabbings, assassinations and murder plots.. And to connect these with monuments and structures the ruins of which you can actually see!! It's very hard for me to really understand why anyone would hate such a dramatic subject.. Cartoons I found on the Internet..  Anyway, the reason I reminisce about my love affair with this wonderful subject is because of one of the course modules I am currently studying for my Masters. It is vaguely titled 'Government and Politics of Modern South Asia'.. The reason I chose t...

Plans had been etched out days in advance, excitement had been brewing in us for quite some time. It was rather disappointing that we could not spare more days but the idea of a day trip to the Lake district is pretty much a great achievement for the seven of us whose every plan always flops or never even takes off from the launch pad. How could this trip have been any different. The day began rather ominously with us reaching the station dangerously close to the departure time. We, typical style, decided that we had enough time to fill up our fuel with sandwiches and baguettes, having rushed through back at home and feeling increasingly complaining stomachs. The platform, we thought (let me add) was right next to where the cafe was, and so we would be able to easily skip through the doors and board it on time. As it turned out one minute before the train departure, we realised the platform was on the other end and we needed to barge our way through several escalators and walks. As...

While back in India a  yoga guru hogs the limelight and makes absurd and practical demands in one breath, and the Government stages its own Olympics, with sprints to the airport and then boxing away the ridiculous statements, the people watch on, looking left and right, who to believe and who to follow. Excellent game by the way.. ;) A Government is by the people, of the people and for the people we learned in Civics way back in school, As we grow old, we increasingly see that is so much the case. The Government is rather a video game, like Angry birds, We elect pig like leaders (forgive the metaphor) and are soon dissatisfied, soon we are slinging ourselves at them, Trying to shake things up, trying to make changes, But really what can we expect.. So we play on, game after game.. We play on as we nonchalantly chant great speeches about India being a superpower and all that, On the other hand, our neighbours march on, Earning laurels even as far as a French Ope...

As VJ put it today- It's the end of a chapter.. Almost, that is.. Our three year long journey together- battling the grey skies and rain of Manchester, of bus rides to the city centre, movie watching marathons, intense clan cravings for Ben and Jerry's and Moonlight carrot cakes, Curry mile food, John Rylands (the library which becomes our shrine during our exams days) studying sessions, last minute plans which go more smoothly than the ones which we deliberate and plan for months and months, all that with its commas has been leading on to this.. a full stop.. Reaching Manchester after many a sleepless anxious nights of whether I would fit in here, whether I would find people I like.. all that has all simmered down to three years of being a part of what we call the KOM (Kids of Mice, if you must know)..  We were named thus by our 'crazy' one, the great Alimushka with all her wacky ideas, for some reason I now forget.. :P  But if I were to sum up my Manchester experienc...

Raindrops patter against my window, as I listen to Pink Floyd. Just another ordinary day and yet on the inside I smile. And not because I have achieved anything worthy of self accolades ( No, two journals is almost measly considering how much more I need to read, and then process). Sometimes, life itself just makes us smile with glee.

Manchester 2009 There have been complaints lately, (informal ones of course) about the pessimism which is gradually seeping into my blog. Reading back, I realise it is to an extent justified. So here it comes, a positive blog dedicated to Ratatat(you know who you are).. Often life gives us reasons to frown. Often we feel used and underestimated. Often we whine and mourn. Often we forget what we have, Often we feel we deserve more. Often we want to cry for what we have lost. Often what needs to be done, Is for us to open our eyes, From the dust and mess of our insides. All we need to do, Is open our eyes and look outside. Look at the squirrels in parks, Carefree and living from one meal to the other. Look at the sky, Forever changing colours, And yet never giving up. The sky knows too, There will be the greys and the clouds, There will be darkness and despair. And yet after every storm and hurricane, There will be clear and blue skies, There will be laughter...