Tonight, I'll stay up till twelve. :)

                                      "What can be said in New Year rhymes,
                                       That's not been said a thousand times?
                                       The new years come, the old years go,
                                       We know we dream, we dream we know.
                                       We rise up laughing with the light,
                                       We lie down weeping with the night.
                                       We hug the world until it stings,
                                       We curse it then and sigh for wings.
                                       We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
                                       We wreathe our prides, we sheet our dead.
                                       We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
                                       And that's the burden of a year."

                                                                    Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Today is a 'last day'. Strange, isn't it? Today I'm living in 2010, I'll wake up tomorrow in the year 2011.

It's the time of the year to be pensive, to make resolutions, to be excited out of your mind, to be hopeful and to go absolutely insane.

I'm feeling a certain calm. I'm staying at home, watching whatever movie is on TV with family, will wait for the clock to strike twelve, and cuddle up and go to sleep.

I only hope 2011 is a nice happy year. As rose-tinted and simple as that. :)

You know what is really exciting? My 18th birthday is in 6 days. I am approaching the age of majority at a frighteningly fast rate. That makes me so happy! :)

Here's wishing you, your family, your best friends and your cute little puppy a very happy new year.

Stay happy, stay awesome. :)

On Beauty

You are so beautiful, to me. :)

We live in a world of stereotypes, opinions, judgments and assumptions, which we may not have been party to creating but are influenced by, nonetheless. There is no denying that influential beauty stereotypes exist that fill the pages of fashion magazines and brim over in cinematic endeavors. A desire for perfection- the perfect skin, the perfect hair, the perfect nose... has crept into the mind of every girl.

Beauty beliefs start early in life, I think. When my parents gifted me a Barbie doll with a flowing pink gown and a plastic dress, she was my first definition on beauty. The definition has changed dramatically over the years; from a Bollywood actress to a Hollywood actress, from a pop singer to a woman in a corporate suit, from a friend to an aesthetic.


I was in the auto-rickshaw on my way back home from office the other day, battling the usual traffic and eunuchs at traffic signals. As I waited anxiously for the signal to turn green, I saw something. An image that has remained in my memory ever since. A poor old beggar woman was sitting on the pavement. She had deep wrinkles on her face, and the way her sari hung on her gave away her malnutrition.Ordinarily, I wouldn't have been moved by this sight, except probably, sparing a second ruminating on the neglected India. But, then I saw her extend her right hand in front of her and smile. I couldn't help but stare. It was only after a few seconds that I realized there was a broken fragment of a mirror in her hands. She adjusted a few strands of her hair, opened her eyes wide and smiled. 
And in that moment, she was the most beautiful woman I'd seen.


And I realized that beauty can never have a base value. It is such a fragile commodity, subjective by its very definition, that there is no generalized basis for what one may consider a thing of beauty. With Photoshop, touch-ups and cosmetic surgery being the talk of the day, this may come across as being a superficial argument. But it truly is a wake-up call to me, for every day I wake up feeling fat, zit-prone or having a static-propelled hairstyle, I think of her happily. :)


"Socrates called beauty a short-lived tyranny; Plato, a privilege of nature; Theophrastus, a silent cheat; Theocritus, a delightful prejudice; Carneades, a solitary kingdom; Aristotle, that it was better than all the letters of recommendation in the world; Homer, that it was a glorious gift of nature; and Ovid, that it was favor bestowed by the gods."
Francis Quarles

Ho Ho Ho!

              I wish we could put up some of the Christmas spirit in jars and open a jar of it every month.
                                                                                       - Harlan Miller


Merry Christmas, everyone! And here's to an amazing new year. :)

Dwarfed...

...By the Beauty

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

(The world's largest salt flat, stretching over 12,000 square feet and is so clear that the water reflects the sky with mind-boggling clarity.)

...By the Courage

Indian soldiers after winning the Kargil War

...By The Emotion, "Saudade"

A Portuguese word, one of the most beautiful words in the world, refers to the feeling of longing for something or someone who is loved but is lost.

Wabi-Sabi

The beauty in impermanence. The exquisiteness in  imperfection and asymmetry. The allure of the authentic.

To embrace the scars as they come and the wounds time gives us.

To cherish frayed edges and look for beauty waiting to be discovered.

Bared to the essence, this is what the Japanese world view of "Wabi-Sabi" is.
And what a beautiful thought at that. The mere profundity it implies renders it virtually untranslatable. And that only adds to the enigma of the concept.

As another year draws to a close, I cannot help but reflect on the events,however fleeting, that have occurred and the memories,however trivial, that have been formed.
Certain events, people and conversations made me grow in terms of developing a educated world view and to develop an understanding of the unknown.
Certain events made me realize the flaws in my opinions, and the defects in my character. I am learning how to opine, without generalizing. And I am learning how to accept, without judging. I am learning how to lead, without dominating. I am learning how to laugh, without yearning.

One of the things I am most proud of this year is this blog. Yes, this blog has been an achievement in the sense that its very existence has forced me to sit in front of my laptop and write. If this hadn't existed, I probably wouldn't have been forced to think the things I did, and however trivial my thoughts were, I am unimaginably thankful that they occurred to me. And I am hugely thankful to the 45 people who found this space worth their  few minutes of Internet-happy time. :)

2010 has been a year of surprises.
A man made a million plans(and bucks) and succeeded at most of them, until his office was raided and he was asked to quit being chairman of the IPL.
A cricketer on the other side of the border may have married the love of his life, until it was discovered he was telephonically wedded already.
The best golfer in the world, a happily married man by the looks of it, would turn out to be a tiger outside the golf course as well.
An amazing trip to Europe may have been planned down to the last detail, but an unpronounceable natural disaster somewhere in Iceland may have thrown you off track.
The most respected and venerated journalists in the country would lose face when tapes of their lobbying for a corrupt telecom minister were made public.

Who would have thought?

The natural cycle of ups and downs, growth and decay, fast and slow have been witnessed in this year more apparently than ever before.
2010 truly, has been the year of wabi-sabi.

Snowflake in An Avalanche

At the very outset, my most sincere apologies to the four and a half people (including my sister's two friends) who truly missed my blog posts. And average apologies to the rest who missed my blog posts just because they had nothing better to do than be bemused by adolescent jargon. (You know I love you guys and completely suck at being nonchalant, right? :P)


(Okay, I have something to share with you, but I'll do it later because I have to behave modestly for the sake of propriety, but please remind me if I forget!)


__________________________________________________________________________


When I was 8, it was such a big word. I couldn't imagine ever being able to spell it correctly.
When I was 11, I was blissfully ignorant about it.
16 was when I found it fashionable to shirk it.
I'm turning 18 next month, and am already bogged down by it.
I’m talking about that 14-letter word that fills every newly inducted adult with a sense of excruciating dread – responsibility.




Ah, those simpler times when responsibility meant doing your homework fast enough so you could play "Hide and Seek" with the building friends. Oh, that period of carefree abandon when being irresponsible only meant forgetting your homework at home and inventing creative excuses to cover it up. Responsible was the person who got picked Class Monitor, or School Prefect.
Responsibility has arisen from its murky depths (or glorious ashes, as might be the case), to take on its arch nemesis- the hapless young adult. From something as simple as dealing with team members during projects and warming up food for your overworked father to making pertinent life choices.


You know when the enormity of this struck me? 
When I went to SBI the other day, to fill in a scary-looking form to open a bank account. To deposit my intern-happy stipend. It's not too much, but makes me glad nonetheless. It's my first salary. (Stipend, my boss corrects me for the umpteenth time!) 
When I went for Independence Rock the same evening, and saw a nuclear mushroom hovering above the venue. The ghastly migraine-triggering smell informed me, it was just a drug-produced smoke cloud. 
( I have decided to make an effort to not be judgmental about the latter. Drugs, alcohol and the like are their personal choices, and I have no business opining and meddling. My definition of correct isn't the same as theirs, as someone very wise told me recently.)


But anyway, it made me realize that "I've become a big girl". 
And I'm happy about that. A little terrified, but happy still. :)


Oh, and for my big news!


I stood first in the Story-Writing Competition held in college. (I have a cool new pen drive and discount vouchers to prove it!) Of the many topics, I chose to write as a serial killer who has to justify his actions to the reader. Twisted, and rather interesting. 
I wasn't too happy with the way I concluded my story, but who cares? I won! I beat the second-year scribblers  and third year pedants! :P


"No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible."
Voltaire