A Fraaandsheep Shout Out. :)

How did the world grow up from loving friendship bands and bracelets?

I guess (wait, I know) I'm too old for them, but friendship bands still hold that charm for me.

Yes, I am that girl who will force you to wear the bright yellow friendship band in college all day.

And so, I did tie my cool inner circle bright yellow friendship bands, and sent a few other lucky mortals sappy text messages. 

On my blog, I'd like to thank Karishma(TUIB), Felicity, Sankoobaba, mgeek, Pythoroshan, Tarun, Arshita, Akshita, (Sana's shouting Sanaaaaaaaa as a reminder), Viya, Nirali, Tarunima and Ezazi for making this blog a happy place in the world for me.

Here's hoping you didn't lose money in the stock market recently, and that you continue writing, reading and commenting here.

I love you all. :)

P.S. I don't understand Blog Award tradition, yet I have been the recipient of three recently, from Tarunima, Viya and Felicity. I thank you from the tip of my hair to that of my big toe. :)

Please do enlighten me on the what, how,when, where, why of blog awards.

The Breakdown of the Modern Intellectual.

Many would raise their hand if asked if today's generation is a dumbed-down version of its earlier counterparts, severely deficient in taste and culture. Sheer statistics will ensure that if they take that stance, they will win the debate. 

It is commonplace to note that reality television and yellow journalism are crowding our mental space. Yet, living in a city as populous as Bombay, one cannot help but find cultural incongruities popping up everywhere. 

The guy who spruces up his daily commute by alternating between hip-hop music and Chomsky lectures. Mozart's 50 Best Loved Tracks on Flipkart's music bestseller list. The Hitchcock movie that surprises you in the air-conditioned BEST bus on your way home. Plagiarized remixed songs playing on loop, on the same channel that airs Coke Studio. The fact that the Jaipur Literature Festival records greater visits with each passing year.

The times they are a-changin'. At snail's pace, but undoubtedly so.

Yet, I can't avoid but view the situation with a hint of skepticism.

Cultural discernment cannot possibly be boiled down to checking off items on 'reliable' prescribed lists on the internet. I hope not.

The questions that sprout in your mind when you read a book that is a New York Times bestseller, but hated, then went on to justify to yourself saying there's something wrong with YOUR taste. The New York Times Bestseller List cannot possibly be wrong. And so, the book will promptly be added to the 'Favourite Books' section on your Facebook, for the world to acknowledge your brilliant taste in literature. Alongside Five Point Someone and Rhonda Bryne, of course. 

If there is a place to document cultural awakening and rebirth in the 21st century, Facebook is the Mecca in my opinion. People strain to be unique and cast themselves in the light that depict facets of their personality that will set them apart from its other 600 million users. 

The feigned nonchalance of the scrupulously scripted 'About Me' section. 

The Quotations page filled with dialogues from obscure movies and underground poets. 

While I am glad that book sales for William Faulkner's novels shot up when it became part of Oprah's Book Club, I wonder how they sit on bookshelves today-as mere conversation-starters or as genuinely appreciated words? 

A devout fetishization of devouring intelligence is being witnessed, that is only leading to the consumption of high culture as a commodity with the aim of upping personal brand value. I just feel that demise of a non-ostentatious appreciation of culture is lamentable. And if our societal IQ is going up, I can only hope it's backed by the right reasons. 

Image Courtesy:  Jochenworld's Flickrstream

The Secret Bookstore.

There's No Place Like Here: Brazenhead Books from Etsy on Vimeo.

You know how they say, a smile can use up between 5 and 53 face muscles.
My face broke into a smile as I watched this video for the first time.
All 53 muscles on my face beautifully intertwined to create an innate arc of happiness.
The smile is on my face an hour later. :)
The fact that such an incredible albeit illegal bookstore exists at all is reason to live for me.

If there is any deity to me, it’s language.
Joseph Brodsky

Artiste Vanity and Uncontrolled Excitement.

Modesty is supposedly a virtue of Capricorns.
Lucky for me, I don't believe in horoscopes and zodiac signs.
And excuse my excitement and severe lack of modesty to my young, young age.

Two of my blog posts got published on The Viewspaper. Don't believe me? Take a look! :)

http://theviewspaper.net/can-we-please-stop-calling-chetan-bhagat-a-representative-of-the-youth/

http://theviewspaper.net/end-child-labour-it%E2%80%99s-time-to-stop-being-a-silent-witness/


Eeeeeeee, it's so exciting to see my name at the end of the articles.
Example:

Ah, the vanity of writing enthusiasts and unabashed immodesty.
I love it. ^-^
Thanks, Viewspaper. :)

The Problem with being a Pande.

"As it is, the name Pandey does not inspire much confidence."

-Page 62, The Tenth Unknown by Jvalant Sampat

This only proves a belief I've had ever since I was a child. I've always had issues with my corrupt policeman, or alternatively, paan-wala sounding surname.

Well, to my relief, my surname is Pande i.e. Pandey minus the svelte 'y' at the end, 

so this lack of confidence does not apply to me.

Right? 

RIGHT?

*hides face in blanket*

As if I Didn't Love the Sixties Enough Already.

 "This is the New York Times Best Seller List, from October, 1961. A depressing reminder that we have slid several rungs down the evolutionary/intellectual ladder –– as it stands, today’s NY Times list features a “telepathic waitress” called “Sookie Stackhouse” who solves crimes; no end of mob lawyers; an ex-government operative called “Cotton Malone”; yet another Star Wars novel; two Emily Griffin joints (both, predictably, about weddings); no less than seven works featuring would-be detectives. Sobering.

1 THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY, by Irving Stone.
2 TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, by Harper Lee.
3 THE CARPETBAGGERS, by Harold Robbins.
4 MILA 18, by Leon Uris.
5 THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT, by John Steinbeck.
6 THE EDGE OF SADNESS, by Edwin O’Connor.
7 TROPIC OF CANCER, by Henry Miller.
8 FRANNY AND ZOOEY, by J.D. Salinger.
9 REMBRANDT, by Gladys Schmitt.
10 CLOCK WITHOUT HANDS, by Carson McCullers.
11 THE INCREDIBLE JOURNEY, by Sheila Burnford.
12 A MAN IN A MIRROR, by Richard Llewellyn.
13 A JOURNEY TO MATECUMBE, by Robert Lewis Taylor.
14 THE SMALL ROOM, by May Sarton.
15 THE HOUSE AT OLD VINE, by Norah Lofts.
16 MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS, by Evan Hunter."

Via (The Essayist)

Time it was, oh what a time it was.
*sigh*

A Must Read: In Norway, The Past is a Foreign Country

I happened to read bestselling Norwegian author Jo Nesbo's piece for the New York Times in light of the recent tragedy in his country. It is so painfully honest and beautifully written, that I had to share it here. There are sentences here that will stick in my mind for some time to come.

A few days ago, before the bombing here and the shootings on Utoya Island, a friend and I were talking about how the joy of being alive always seems to go hand in hand with the sorrow that things change. Not even the brightest future can make up for the fact that no roads lead back to what came before - to the innocence of childhood or the first time we fell in love.

There is no road back to the scent of the Julys when I was young and leapt from a boulder into the ice-cold meltwater of a Norwegian fjord. No road back to when I stood, 17 years old with 10 francs in my pocket, by the harbor in Cannes, France, and watched two grown men in idiotic white uniforms row a woman and her poodle ashore from a yacht. I realized then for the first time that the egalitarian society I came from was the exception and not the rule.

No road back to the first time I looked, wide-eyed, at the guards with automatic weapons surrounding another country's parliament building - a sight that made me shake my head with a mixture of resignation and self-satisfaction, thinking, we don't need that sort of thing where I come from.

For many years, it seemed as if nothing changed in Norway. You could leave the country for three months, travel the world, through coups d'état, assassinations, famines, massacres and tsunamis, and come home to find that the only new thing in the newspapers was the crossword puzzle. It was a country where everyone's material needs were provided for. Political consensus was overwhelming, the debates focused primarily on how to achieve the goals that everyone had already agreed on. Ideological disagreements arose only when the reality of the rest of the world began to encroach, when a nation that until the 1970s had consisted largely of people of the same ethnic and cultural background had to decide whether its new citizens should be allowed to wear the hijab and build mosques.

Still, until Friday, we thought of our country as a virgin - unsullied by the ills of society. An exaggeration, of course. And yet.......

....................... So if there is no road back to how things used to be, to the naïve fearlessness of what was untouched, there is a road forward. To be brave. To keep on as before. To turn the other cheek as we ask: "Is that all you've got?" To refuse to let fear change the way we build our society.


Read the entire article here if you please:
http://mobile.nytimes.com/article;jsessionid=4F042F615D6B354D9FB4C1CA4AE6451E.w5?a=821292&single=1&f=28&sub=Contributor

Sunlight in a Rain-Drenched World.

Important Note: Surprising as it might be, I clicked these.

I only edited the first one because it looked like a lovely vintage postcard post-editing. :)

And this was the music accompanying the mania. 

Why I Don't Associate the Number 101 With a Disney Movie Anymore.

What an amazing day this has been! I logged into my Blogger Account and........

^^THIS number stared up at me. My blog has 101 followers! 

You could call me a selfish writer, for I write when I want to, what I want to. But I would never have written with such regularity or put in half the effort if you guys hadn't been reading. A big grizzly-bear size 'thank you' hug to all of you. :) And a free cappuccino if we ever meet. :)

The day is doubly awesome because I GOT A RAISE! I'm Blog Manager of the Librarywala.com blog, and my boss gave me a raise. Totally unexpected! :D

Now, IT'S DANCE TIME.

Of Budday Present Blues.

This is just a dream,
For I am not reality.
Distance yourself from this false epiphany,
Of redundant possibilities.
Wake up to a better tomorrow,A different yesterday.

The person who has written this eloquent 'About Me' deserves a spectacular birthday present, don't you think?

I am not one to crack under pressure easily. That's one thing I somewhat take pride in. Yet, selecting the perfect present makes me believe that I can die of a cardiac arrest at any given moment. 

Well, the presents have been bought. My internet search history and empty wallet are ample proof! 

I sure hope the presents are liked. :)

^^There. That's another form of crazy anxiety in itself.