Identity Crisis

Main kaun hoon? Main kahaan hoon? Uffo, main abhi tak yahaan hoon!! :P

What's in a name they say? I did a bunch of 'what is your name in this country's language' quizzes on blogland and discovered Japanese, Italian, Spanish, French et al versions of my name. Got bored with that eventually. I continue to use a rather 'German-sounding' version of my name on email.

When I was a kid, each of my aunts had a different goofy 'pet name' for me. It was painful writing them thank you cards for their gifts trying to remember which name to sign off by, based on what they called me. Interestingly enough, whatever they called me, became the name I called them back, with an 'aunty' attached to it at the end! The names are just so ridiculous, but now I can look back at them and poke fun at them and at myself for going along with it.

Sample this: One aunt decided to hum when she addressed me, so I was christened "Gun Gun" and she became "Gun Gun Aunty". Dunno if there was some competition going on like 'Tag this kid with the most embarassing name', but the aforementioned aunt's sister decided that "Mun Mun" it is, henceforth, and of course, she was "Mun Mun Aunty". The squabbling sisters had another sibling who then promptly christened me "Minna". Atleast there was some logic to it as I was a tiny baby, a bit underweight even. (Those familiar with my size now, shall not comment and can just put a sock in it :D). Now, these aunts weren't masters of the game after all. Their mother and my beloved Naaniamma was alive and well then. Un sab ki amma nikli and she passed an order that the new kid on the (execution, in my view) block shall hereby be referred to as "Shammu". When I visited Disneyland, the most popular act was that of "Shammu The Whale". I somehow lived it down, kinda helped by the fact that the whale was cute :) Never mind. Till date, I call my uncle (the brother of all these aunties and Naaniamma's son), Shammumam. I have no clue how that connection was made. My guess is he was the only one who abided by Naani's grand orders and called me "Shammu", and hence he was introduced to me as "Shammumam". Now, can the father of all these wonderful people be left behind in this prem kahani? No sirree. Naaniammi's husband and my dear, sweet, adorable granddad officially named me 'Poornima' since I was born on paurnami ki raat, aka, full moon night. AAAAWWWOOOOOO! Ahem. That was quickly shortened 'affectionately' to "Punimo!" Yes, with an exclamation. 'Coz he used to yell out my name like that in public. This was of course once I was older and could run as far away from this crazy bunch as my two li'l legs could carry me.

Mum and Dad were on their own trip back in those days. Literally. Mom was tripping on being a new mom, all rosy cheeked and glowing, and Dad was on his own trip in Calcutta, post IIM days. They were high on life and love, among other things. Innocent stuff like music, friends, clubs, and parties of course. Ze good life, basically. And food! Boy, oh boy, what a food loving family I'm a part of. Which has no doubt left a telling and lasting impression on my adult life. Anyway, I digress. So Dad got wind of the name given by his dad-in-law and put his well-educated foot down. He was just coming out of a hangover of its own kind after pocketing an MBA and had joined an MNC, only back then, apna desh was still UK dominated and not the US of A based MNCs of today. So he said "Poornima" was a terribly old fashioned name. After spending a lot of time hunting for names, he gave me a typical Bengali name. Kolkata hangover I guess. In between, he had almost finalised on "Suman" and even wrote a letter to his mom about it. I still cherish that letter though it is in tatters. Dad also christened his youngest sister "Asha" and the basis of that was that the day she was born, he had seen a Hindi movie and the pretty heroine's name was "Asha". Ahem. Anyway, Mum and Dad, going by family tradition, bestowed upon me a pet name and that was "Chotu". Ok, you can stop laughing now.

By the time I was three, responding to so many names must have taken its toll. As I grew up and smartened up a wee bit, I developed 'convenient hearing ability'. Whenever someone called me by one of the above crazy names, I would act like I couldn't hear them. In school, of course, it was my 'official' (Bong) name. Can a kid be more tortured, you think?

Once I started using the net, I simply couldn't think up any nicknames for myself. Bland stuff like 'zodiacgal' was my handle on chat only because I was hung up on reading the astrological columns in magazines and Linda Goodman's book about Sunsigns enthralled me as a teenager. Picking a nickname for email accounts, chat handles etc., gave me nightmares. I took hours and even days to think of something, well, a little less ridiculous than the ones I've suffered while growing up.

I had 'name block' like writer's block for a while. Now of course I am a pro at different names and even identities. Played the fool online enough times under god knows how many nicks and personas. When venturing into blogworld, I suffered from 'name block' again. And Kini suggested I stick with A Jane. This one was also thrust upon me by him and Sayesha in some silly name calling game :P Kini got a bit cleverer (for once) and suggested 'Jane Doe'. I listened to him (for once) and it became my url. But for my 'posting' name, I was bored with that and so decided on 'The Chosen One'. *rant alert* After all, wasn't I 'chosen' for all those idiotic names as a kid? *end of rant* Besides that, back in college, my fave phrase when something unfair happened to me was "Why me?" I even had a Charlie Brown poster in my room asking that question. So I would wail and groan "WHY ME?" and my friend would reply, "Because you're the chosen one!" So that became the blog posting nickname. I wondered if it sounded weird, but heck, I've always been that way. Chosen, not weird! Ok, maybe a bit mad sometimes. :D

Most people on blogworld liked it and thought was different from the usual. This guy thought it was an ode to Neo! :) Others thought it was silly, or even sounded pompous. If only they knew!! Dishoom happily shortened my blog nick to TCO, which sounds suspiciously like PCO.

Today, however, someone said it was cheesy. Heck, it was my cheese to move, you know? So now I am The Cheesy One. *cheesy...err...cheeky grin*

With friends, my nicknames have gone the range from Sugar, to Hanuman, to Gabbar Singh.

Sigh...seems as if my tryst with names will carry on into my afterlife avatar as well!

Life's a Beach

They collapsed into the sand
Their faces turned up against the breeze
Their laughter ringing in the air
Casting a spell across that silent night

The lone boat cracked right down the middle
A mute witness to their chatter
With only the beam of the lighthouse casting a warm glow
While they drew circles in the sand

They had given up building castles in the air
Long ago when time dealt them a cruel blow
Now they were stronger and could swim against the tide
And yet between them was a great divide

The future lies ahead of them
As vast an expanse as the sea's horizon
They walk barefooted towards the water
Holding hands as they were always used to

They look around at all the jewels cast ashore
And promise to build a foundation for the future
At last their eyes shone in the moonlight
A meaningful purpose was finally in sight

Travelize it!

This was so hilarious I had to share. Below is a link to a travel blog written by Dharmu’s boss. Obviously, I have met neither Dharmu nor her boss (a Westerner) in person, but only read their writings. When I clicked on the link to her boss’ blog, it was only out of curiosity to know more about her company and work. Had thought it was a link to her company website. Instead it turned out to be the travails of her boss’ travels to India. Always interesting to see how the white world views the brown one. The particular post of his that I’ve linked here is a cool description of our very own Landmark!

The travel blog web portal is also neat. Wondering if I should open one on my travels there or pen/type them here. Hmmm….any suggestions?

The View from the Other Side

A Positive Platitude

Just Five Points, Mr. Chetan Bhagat!

At long last I managed to get my hands on the book ‘Five Point Someone’ by Chetan Bhagat. Much has been said and written about it, so I’ll keep it short. This book seems to have become the mantra for collegians and those of us still nostalgic about the ‘good ole days’. My all time fave in this kind of genre, though, continues to be ‘The Inscrutable Americans' by Anurag Mathur.

Here’s my (late) take on this college tome.

Feedback for FPS comin’ your way, Chetan… (Mallus reading this, pls make sure you get the pronounciation right).

1) GPA GPA GPA!! Oho! That might be the mantra at IIT, but for the world over, Gen Next is only interested in GAP GAP GAP!!

2) Take 3 losers, mix in some Floyd, grass, and vodka, and voila! A ‘novel’ dish targeting the youth is rustled up. Ice in the vodka? A smash hit bestseller and raking in the big bucks. Sweet! Who cares about dessert, right Chetan?

3) The heroine angle, Neha. The only ‘flavar’ among the nuts, bolts, and gears. Not much of a crowd puller though. More Betty than Betty Boop. The ‘kya maal hai’ factor is missing. Shilpa Shetty ko bulao! Item gal maangtha hai. In this Archie & Betty caper, Veronica is sorely missing.

4) The humor and simple lingo style of writing was ‘jhakkas’. But, what’s with all the typos, Mr. Engineer-and-MBA-and-NRI Investment Banker?

5) Chetan, can I have Ryan’s phone number?

Things Are Just Not What They Seem

~ The Mahajan case, 'nuff said. The town criers have gone to town about it anyway.

~ Picture perfect marriages. How much of a sham(e) behind closed doors?

~ Writers and their writings. How much of it is the truth/imaginary?

~ Academic Grades. Reflection of a student's brilliance/intelligence?

~ Friends. Fair weather seems too mild a description for back-stabbers.

~ Relatives. (Explanation not required).

~ The movie industry and their behind-the-screen shenanigans.

~ Movies & TV Serials. The Sixth Sense & The X Files.

~ Charlie Chaplin. Real life isn't black and white after all.

~ My driver. The bugger has gone missing since 2 hrs, seems to have decamped with my bike.

~ This post. Not exhaustive by a long shot.

New Man in My Life

Found a perfect way to keep me busy while being home-bound. Playin' with this toy boy. He packs a neat punch and keeps me effortlessly occupied.

Meet my new companion, Le Phillipe. Ain't he a handsome dude...sigh...fell hook, line and sinker for his good looks. A very smooth physique and rock hard abs to boot.




And whadya know, Le Phillipe is prudent too...came to me on a bidding! Almost perfect...sigh...

Mr. Sunny Ehruksun, my original choice, will just have to wait a bit longer for my undivided attention.

Citizens Can!

The "Rang De Basanti" effect is what the media is calling it. People protesting in the streets of India has become an integral part of all TV channel headlines of late. It started with the Jessica Lal case, which prodded on by the media, snowballed into actually setting the wheels of justice in motion--that too in India--a humongous achievement. Around the same time, a group (now that the political party has split) called Lok Paritran was formed and fuelled this new-age subconciousness among the Indian youth. And of course, the anti-reservation issue, which is still burning up blogworld, broadcasting media, campuses, drawing room discussions, and a lot of ink everywhere. This page got so many hits in the past coupla weeks, probably more than our very own homegrown Priyanka Chopra got hit on since she scorched up the screen.

In the midst of all this fire and brimstone, came Aamir Khan's support for the victims of the Narmada issue. Rajdeep Sardesai gushed all over the actor, who was earnest to a fault, and yet managed to charm through his dimples. Read the transcript and watch the interview here. Other news channels also had special programs inviting Aamir into their studios to bravely and gravely voice his opinion not on Bollywood, or matters of the heart, or the debacle of Fanaa, but to hear him speak on current affairs. Khushboo, however, got a raw deal and tearfully rendered a public apology for what some termed her "outspokenness" in the media. The irony was that this was the same southern state that had deified this actress by constructing a temple in her name!

Are they for real? Back in school, civics and history classes were all about freedom of speech and believing in the maxim that "democracy is for the people, by the people, and of the people". In today's times, it seems that this country is only for the politicians, by the politicians, and of the politicians, and minus the people altogether. This might sound naive and idealistic, but seriously, what the heck is wrong with the times we live in?

Public memory is short, but hopefully not for just causes. Hope has emerged just as we appeared to be turning into a callous materialistic tech-dependent generation. There is still some soul left in our hearts, even if the flame is but a flicker. Time will tell if this is just a phase.

[In other news, (since this post sounds like a broadcast feed from a newschannel) I managed to break my toe and am now hopping around the house. All laments about accrued leave have been duly taken care of!]

Saturday Blues

Had to go to work today. Aaaaarrrgh!! Really, what could be worse! (Ok, don't need the count your blessings speech now, thank you).

Its SatuRANTday.

Sherry and I were cursing under our breaths. Actually, it was loud enough for all to hear. And we are in two different cities. Most Saturdays we have to go to work, only to find that there is absolutely no work.

I have this nasty habit of piling up my accrued leave and Sherry is just the opposite. She exhausts even the leave that she is not entitled to. She loves taking vacations after her vacations. She insists she needs a break after the vacation itself. Me, on the other hand, has grown roots that have fastened to my desk and spread their tentacles around my non-ergonomic chair. Sherry has tried beating me over the head about my accumulated leave, but has not succeeded in penetrating my thick skull as yet. I must take a few tips from Kusum Dishoom who seems to take off on a holiday every other month! God bless her employer. (Kusum, chocs and my CV coming your way).

Coming back to Sherry, all of last year she consistently kept her signature out of the attendance register almost every Saturday, as a rule. A laudable effort indeed. All her evil vacation deeds came back to bite her this year and hence, she has taken tips from my book and is chained to her seat all week, week after week. You see, she has exhausted her quota of leave, and how! She has negative leave balance now. So, 2006 sees Sherry at work every Saturday, very busy "leave gathering" as she put it.

Chat with Sherry today went like this...

Sherry: You at work on a Saturday again?

Me: *sheepish laugh* Yeah. I have an RS to attack, only it is attacking me. (RS stands for 'rambling story' aka report).

Sherry: Ok, then its allowed.

Me: Right back at ya, btw!

Sherry: I know, I told you my problem.

Me: Ah...yes.

Sherry: Leave gathering.

Me: Leaves gathering, eh? Its summer, not autumn.

Sherry: Huh?

Me: I'm such a rake. Never mind.

Sherry: Went out for lunch though.

Me: I've given up on life on weekends let alone lunch. Where d'ya go?

Sherry: Hathworks Buelevard.

Me: Sounds fancy shmancy.

Sherry: Had YUMMMMMY dessert at lunch.

Me: Sure, rub it in some more.

Sherry: B-o-u-l-e-v-a-r-d. Ugh...whats the spelling??

Me: You got it right the 2nd time around :-)

Sherry: First time sounded demented.

Me: Haha! Anyway, it's a Saturday, and you're at work. We're allowed to be demented.

Sherry: Yes, I have the same excuse for Monday too.

Me: True. And what about Thursdays and Fridays for you?
(Midweek is when Sherry's workload really hits her between the eyes).

And Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays for me!
(Start to midweek is when I nail work and bring it to its knees).

Darn. That doesn't leave much of the week left, does it?

Sherry: *looooooooooooooooong sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

Me: *looooooooooooooooong sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

The Dark (K)night on the Horizon

Aa raha hai!! Mera knight in shining armor...literally! Here is the pic...and its not the person who clicked the picture, just in case some dhakkans get the wrong idea :P

Sorry yaar Rohit, please don't mind, I am like this wonly :D

My knight


Shamelessly horked this from a fellow Beatle maniac. Sigh...isn't that a simply boootiful shot? (The second one, peeps.) So morantic! No wonder mera number aane mein itni der ho raha hai...itni door se jo aa raha hai! Yes! From another century itself :P

Thanks, Rohit. I feel good 'coz of the pic.

Now if only the knight can croon a la James Brown.

Guilty Pleasures

Multiplexes, coffee shops,
Lounge bars, restaurant rooftops,
Designer labels and fancy fast cars,
All contribute to unblemished souls and zero battle scars.

Spa treatments, first class air tickets, a happening night life,
A rich, dashing husband and a trophy wife,
Even charity causes,
All meant to be flaunted,
Without a care in the world for the lesser privileged,
Or the simple things in life that we all take for granted.

New age spiritualism and yoga,
All filling the coffers of the likes of Deepak Chopra.
What will it take to set free,
The mind, the heart, the spirit, and the soul,
Will humankind ever be allowed a reprieve?

Gettin' Hitched!

What a coincidence! Two of my best pals are (finally) getting married (something so final about marriage, no?). These gals have been a big part of my life at different stages.

Kamal and I spent some super fun five years together during our carefree childhood days. Between age 5 to 10, we played in the sun, in the shade, in the pool, on the grassy maidan, on the shuttle court, fought over the same guy that we both had a crush on for all those years (this would make a whole other post), had slumber parties and sleepovers at each other's houses...sigh...it was a magical childhood indeed.

Mona and I spent less time together in comparison, but as twenty-somethings we bonded over projects, assignments, student strikes against lousy lecturers, group study sessions, gossip about our fellow classmates, boyfriends, and food. Oh, we just loved to yak and yak. Still do!

The interesting thing is that these two gal pals o'mine are in whole other countries. Kamal has been in the wild wild west for such a long time, it's a wonder she didn't marry a cowboy and set up a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Mona has been a globe trotter for some years now, shuttling between cities, countries, even continents.

When I met Kamal 17 years after our last meeting, it was simply awesome (for want of a better word--this one fits best somehow). The venue was thousands of miles away from the roads less traveled by yours truly, but pretty close to where she was (Austin, TX). She simply drove over when I called to say "Houston, (that was as far as I could get), we have a problem!" We spent a coupla days together getting re-acquainted. That took about 5 minutes. :-)

Haven't met Mona since we last said goodbye, but sure hope it doesn't take 17 years!

And now, Kamal and Mona are getting married. No, not to each other. Hope some dhakkans reading this were not under THAT impression! Although that might have made this scorching summer juicier for some!

So, they are beginning a new chapter in their lives. (A whole new book if you ask me).

Kamal's wedding will be a wonderfully happy occassion with her family and some friends around. I sincerely hope Mona's is the same. Mona is marrying into a different religion (now this step would entail beginning a whole new library even!), so there's all the typical Bollywood style drama--a mandatory part of such (circus?) events. The only probable drama at Kamal's wedding could be the confusion over names. When the priest calls out the groom's name, I just hope her brother doesn't step up to the altar. It would turn into the Bold & the Beautiful. You see, Kamal's betrothed and her elder brother are namesakes. :-)

I'm so excited sitting here so far away from either of them. They can probably hear me yelling (for the bouquet).

Mera number kab aayega? :-)

Calmouflage

She paints her face to hide her face.

She talks non-stop to quieten her thoughts.

She drives her car to drive her thoughts.

She thinks it through to let it sink in through.

She writes it down to free her mind.

She sings aloud to drown out the silence.

She runs a mile to dash her dreams.

She dances all night to sit this one out.

Onamae o shiete kudasaimasen ka?

Roughly translated it means "Would you not do me the favor of teaching me your name?" That is a very polite phrase in Japanese while asking someone their name.

And so, the hangover continues...!!

This one is actually an email forward, but it felt so close to my blog's present state of mind, that I had to put it up here while I sip my sake. So here goes...

What is your Japanese name? Take each letter of your name and substitute it with the Japanese sound to the right of the letter. Names might be kinda long.

A- ka * B- tu * C- mi * D- te * E- ku * F- lu * G- ji
H- ri * I- ki * J- zu * K- me * L- ta * M- rin *
N- to O-mo * P- no * Q- ke * R- shi * S- ari * T-chi U- do *
V- ru * W-mei * X- na * Y- fu * Z- zi

Mine is Aridorinkichika.

Atleast I'm some chica :-) Its even got 'dorin' in it...fairly apt in some ways me thinks (think Doreen from Finding Nemo :-)) Now if only I can get that name in Japanese script and I'll be on my way. Errr...where? To-kyo(to) bound, I say! And wearing a Tshirt with my name on it.

Sayonara!

World Groove

Refinement of tongue has become a thing of the past. Now languid prose is found only in the classics, whether books or movies. Nobody talks in eloquent prose anymore, much less write in that style.

Slang has invaded every corner of the world. And is unique to its region, territory, location, even within a country, there are so many different terms.

Singapore has a distinct sing-song style of speaking, where when talking to a friend, every sentence ends with ‘lah’. It’s almost musical. I said almost.

Bombay ought to trademark its ‘bambaiyya’ style of talk. The ‘tapori’ style has been used in many movies, especially among the 'goondas/dadas/bhai log' of a 'colony’. After “Munnabhai MBBS” became a hit movie, this kinda talk is now not restricted to just Mumbai, but all of India. Friends give 'maa behen gaalis' to each other in regular every day speak. Street talk has become a way of life.

Everyone thinks its ‘cool’ and ‘hip’ to talk in slang. Gals think 'Its soooo happenin', babe!'. ‘Aapun ka style hai, bhai’, guys say, and turn up their collar. 'Dudes' who like to think of themselves as a ‘stud’ mostly practise this.

The word ‘stud’ reminds me of a funny incident…
Some years ago, when all of us cousins got together from different parts of the globe during holiday season, we decided to play the board game 'Pictionary'. The game was gifted to us by one of the aunties. It occupied most of our summer vacation and was quite a rabble-rouser and super fun. We couldn’t stop laughing at how atrociously some of us drew, or at least, tried to. Me, the conservationist of the family, insisted that we save paper and draw within the same sheet for as many turns possible. Since others were too caught up with the game, they sorta forgot to mention this could get highly annoying. At every turn, I would remind the person drawing not to use up too much paper. Of course I was scrupulous in saving paper when it came to my turn, practising (for once) what I preached.

Anyway, to spice things up, we decided to enact the keywords instead of drawing them. Pictionary with a Dumbcharades twist, if you will. The competition was between two teams and a representative was chosen from each team to act out the chosen word. The team that guessed the word faster would score points.

It so happened that each team ‘actor’ were two of my youngest cousins, both girls about the same age, roughly 12 at the time. The word was ‘stud’. The cousin belonging to India (CBI) pointed to her ear lobe. At the same time, the cousin in America (CIA) (no puns intended :-)) pointed to the muscles on her arm. All the onlookers gaped. "How can they show different body parts," was the question writ large on the confused faces in each team. CBI continued to point and tug at her ear, (which was reddening by the minute) while CIA began striking macho he-man and muscleman poses.

It was a sight for sore eyes. The little ‘uns had interpreted the word so differently! Of course, Pictionary being a popular American boardgame, the answer was the clue provided by CIA. Poor CBI! It wasn’t a ear stud! I won the game with this clue and managed to corrupt li’l CBI at the same time. For the rest of the day, she cross-questioned me and CIA about what ‘stud’ meant and who 'stud boy' was.

In America, hip-hop lingo and music introduced slang in one clean sheet...err...sweep. Once CIA’s mom asked her son about his roommates and life on campus. Her 19-year-old son had moved to a new college away from home and had begun sharing an apartment with some fellow college mates. He replied ‘PHAT, mom!’ His mom thought he was being rude. :-)

Slang can be confounding, confusing, and yet delightful. Well, sometimes at least.

Well, slang words are a never-ending topic. Feel free to jump in with other interesting and fun terms. No, I am not compiling an Idiot’s Guide to Slang All Over The World. Aise hi, time pass yaar! :-)

World Groove, by the way, is an amazing CD I got at Landmark. Its got dance, electronica, R&B et al from musicians all over the world. New age music rocks! :-)

Addendum to 'Memoirs Of A Geisha' post

Ok, I'm still nursing a Japanese hangover. So sush(i) me.

Don't take my word for it. Read some reviews. Go here:
1. New York Times Review
2. Bookbrowse.com

I dislike overhyping anything, really. So if you read the book and don't feel the same way I do....well, you're just plain crazy! :P

Took the liberty of posting a couple of pics from this amazing photographer's website:
http://www.phototravels.net/japan/photo-gallery/

Hope he doesn't sue me. *grin*

Jap Happy!

Two things have been on my mind lately and can be summed up in one word—Passion.

passion (noun)
1. A powerful emotion, such as love, joy, hatred, or anger.
2. a. Ardent love. b. Strong sexual desire; lust. c. The object of such love or desire.
3. a. Boundless enthusiasm: His skills as a player don't quite match his passion for the game. b. The object of such enthusiasm: Soccer is her passion.

Thoughts of these two things have been consuming me on an hourly basis, in both wakefulness and sleep. No, not that, those with a one-track mind! :P

One has been about blogging. To blog or not to blog is the question I have been pondering/battling/wringing my hands over since eons now. You might wonder what is the big deal? Like friends and Nike said, ‘Just do it, man!’. And you might ask why starting a blog of all things should be such a dilemma that should haunt anyone. (Sigh…being a perfectionist is rough and tough and causes too much wear and tear, I swear.) Then again, blogging has turned into such drama, so becoming a dramebaaz blogger has to kinda go with the territory.

Reading (in the old days—books, and today—blogs) has been an all-consuming pastime since childhood. Reading blogs in particular has taken up a lot of my time in the past one year. It’s been a long while since my first love—reading (a book). And to some extent, it was computers and blogging that kept me away from fine print. Had forgotten the soothing effect of a book’s scent on the olfactory nerves. Only a book lover can appreciate not just the content and writing style of a book, but also its look, touch, feel, and smell. Books are truly a feast as well as a thirst quencher for the hungry and parched reader’s soul.

This connects to the other thing occupying my mind lately—this book—Memoirs Of A Geisha by Arthur Golden. Golden words by an author indeed! Such lucid and elegant prose! This book has captivated and enthralled me with its story and the way it has been told. Yes, I say told, rather than written, because of its charming first person narrative. It’s almost like being a child again and listening to a story session. I now understand why this book has come to mean something so special to me. It has brought back one of my childhood emotions and passions in a flood—the joy of reading. And it has actually spurred me to finally start reading and writing in…err…write earnest!

Memoirs of a Geisha has all the trappings of a great book—innocence, awe, treachery, mystery, betrayal, passion, oppression, jealousy, cruelty, misery, and beauty and one could go on adjective nauseum. The book is a real treasure. It transports the reader into the strange and unbelievable world of an earlier era swiftly and easily. It compels the reader to ponder not just about its subject, but there are many questions raised in the course of the story that deal with human emotions.

gei•sha
n., pl. geisha or -shas.
A class of women in Japan trained from girlhood in conversation, dancing, and singing in order to entertain professional or social gatherings of men.

Some fascinating Japanese customs and exotic words elaborated upon in the book that linger on long after reading it...

- Gion
- Okiya
- Tatami mats
- Bowing down
- Tea ceremony
- Tea houses
- Kimono and obi
- Shamisen
- Dances of the Old Capital
- Mizuage
- Danna

They have been dealt with at length, in beautiful, elegant prose, rousing the curiosity of the reader, and heightening interest in the whole story.

Whereas, popular culture relegates a non-Japanese’s interest in Japanese culture to Ikebana, Origami, Bonsai, Sayonara, Sushi, Samurai warriors, Sumo wrestlers, Sake, not to mention Pokemon!

Useless fact of the day: Madonna, the singer (what were you thinking, heathens!), dressed in geisha garb in her music video ‘Nothing Really Matters’ in 1999.

A few images to visually represent the book’s subject...

Calligraphy for the word ‘Geisha’ (pronounced “gay-shuh”) meaning ‘a person of the arts’


Maiko (apprentice geisha) in Kyoto


A Japanese postage stamp depicting a geisha in a kimono with obi—-the traditional costume of men and women in Japan.


Painting of a geisha playing the shamisen, a traditional Japanese musical instrument.


A leap from the 1920s to the 2000s! Picture of musician Chie Hanawa playing the shamisen at the Penang Island Jazz Festival 2005


A geisha shielding her makeup from sunlight with a traditional Japanese fan



Two li'l Maikos posing outside Heian Jingu Shrine, Kyoto

Am eager to watch the movie ‘Memoirs of a Geisha’. Have heard and read reviews that the novel’s adaptation to the silver screen does not do justice to the book. For those presuming it’s a women’s novel only, do keep in mind that the author is a man. Sigh…there is something incredibly riveting about this book and its representation of Japanese old world culture. It evokes a feeling of wonderment in the reader’s mind. It reads like reality and fantasy at the same time.

Yes, the book is full of contradictions. Just like life itself.

Toon Talk

Watched the movie ‘Shark Tale’ finally on telly. The characters and voices of Will Smith and gang were so darn cute. Thoroughly enjoyed the animation, dialogues, and Lenny--the sissy shark :-)

‘Finding Nemo’ and the ‘Lion King’ are two of my favorite toon flicks. Now waiting like an expectant mother for Ice Age to come out.

One thing, though, is that technically brilliant animation movies these days are totally adult-oriented with smart-ass dialogues. They have to be cool and hip, else it simply ain’t happenin', brutha!

Movies like ‘Jungle Book’ were made purely for kids. But the adults that accompanied them enjoyed the simplicity too and it transported them back to their childhood.

Guess that’s why once we grow up(some of us at least), we continue to enjoy good ole cartoons on telly like ‘Tom and Jerry’ and ‘Tweety and Sylvester’.

Even cartoon strips like ‘Calvin & Hobbes’ and ‘Garfield’—two of the most popular cartoon strips and three of the most important characters (Hobbes is real, you know, plus he totally rocks :-)) are full of digs and takes on cynicism, sarcastic wit, what’s cool, and oh, ok, I concede, rocketships and pizza. Like space shuttles and pizza have anything to do with age. Uh-huh!

While the above two cartoon series are absolutely adorable, my other faves include Charlie Brown, Snoopy and the whole Peanuts gang, Beetle Bailey, Dilbert, Archies, and the full-blown series of The Adventures of Tintin and Snowy, and Asterix.

Its toon time, folks! Get the popcorn!

On your marks...get set...go!

How many times I've heard that (title of post) boomed into the mike during school races and events. And now am embarking on another adventure in life.

Finally at the starting line....of blogging.... Flag Off! :-)
This is one journey or run that I'm totally looking forward to and hope there isn't a finishing line.

Of late, a lot of blogs I've been reading have one refrain.....'i'm getting out of blogging'. Ab yeh kya baat hui? Is it some phase.....agreed, we go through all kinds of phases in life and a blog helps you to record atleast some part of it. I take my hat off to dedicated bloggers who have stuck around through the years. Very impressive track record indeed.

Perseverance is a virtue I probably lack, based on some past experiences. But somehow I now feel determined to overcome a lot of what I consider to be some of my despicable personality traits...procrastination, laziness, and getting my butt out of comfort zones I frequently find myself in. Keeping fingers crossed that blogging will help in this endeavour.

New Kid on the Blog

Hola! :-)

Finally put pen to paper or rather click to mouse and got going...er..sort of...on 'planning to start a blog'.

Just baby steps so far. (All Indians are apathetic to filling out forms. Registration is modern day torture).

That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.
- Neil Armstrong

This (blogging) is one small step for all, one giant leap for my kind.
- Me

Have been in the planning mode forever. Procrastination is my middle name as well as my worst enemy. In my defense, as they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, so have only been practising that rule :-)

Let's see how interesting, exciting and/or painful the blogging journey gets.....

What's in it for me, you ask?
How should I know, I just got here!

Nevertheless...

Welcome to my okiya :-) (current fave phrase)