First sounds and glimpses

Wack! Thud Thud! Wack!
'But you said only 15 shots?!' I pleaded.
'Huh? What did you say?' the big Rajput pretended to ask.
Wack! Wack!
My mistake of questioning my captors.
Those were the first few sounds I heard at midnight on my 'new' year, which began two days ago.
A few minutes before midnight, my roomies and I negotiated on the number of kicks my tiny cute arse would have to take. But a few minutes after midnight, I realised that I wasted my time in negotiating when I could have put on a pair of jeans over my shorts instead. Eventhough I never do indulge in such heathenish behaviour on others' bdays, no one really cares about that. There are people in this world who are just waiting to kick arses!
Luckily for me, I got the customary 'bday bums' from just two of my roomies. The other one and a friend who had come to stay over preferred to just watch over the proceedings. After the 20 odd barborous yet loving bums, I managed to put up a brave (obviously I didnt want to show them that I was a sissy) face. As I struggled to get up, all of them showered their warm hugs on me with wishes. Soon after, they managed to sing the ever-melodious bday song .. a different hoarse version of it. Then we had a delicious cake which everyone pounced upon soon after I made the first cut. The leftover from the cake was smeared all over my face and it took me two rounds of extensive washing with a bar of Lux soap to get the cake (and its accompanying greasiness) off my face.
Its been quite a while since I've received bums on my bday, since it always fell during the summer vacations. Hmm .. to be honest, it felt good to have stiff buttocks for a while!

Shame

Ever since 15-year-old British girl Scarlett Keeling's heinous murder, there have been innumerable posts and comments in various websites by readers and bloggers alike expressing a medley of emotions - anger, sympathy, sentimental. I'm no different from them and this is how I feel.
Another crime against a woman in India making the news.
Whats' with this? Why is it that our men are such perverts?
For the past few months and years, crimes against women have been on the high-rise in India and have been making the headlines very quite often now. By crimes i mean molestation and rape ... and in many of these cases, murder is the final outcome.
Why do these men have to grope every female that crosses their path? Why do they gloat and congratulate each other when they do this? Whats' wrong with these maniacs? Such rhetorical questions have been hovering around for quite some time now.
Crimes such as Scarlett's murder have tarnished Goa's image as a free-wheeling oasis in straitlaced India. Foreign women will think thrice before heading to India to spend a vacation. The cops and law keepers aren't helping either .. as seen by how the first post mortem on Scarlett's body was botched up and the vehement denial of the Goan police and government that Scarlett was ever murdered. There's a lot of corruption involved in the political system and this has to be sorted out.
I'm sure people have made up their own minds about the rape and murder of Scarlett by a couple of drug-peddling sickos. When I read about such things in the news, i burn with furore inside. This frustration is coupled with shamefulness. I'm filled with shame and disgrace knowing that such men walk the streets of my country. If I had things my way, these people deserve to be castrated and be subjected to a couple of fatal kicks to their 'swinging freedom's (the way a good friend of mine describes 'it') .
This post wouldn't be complete without venting out my reaction to the actions of Fiona MacKeown, Scarlett's mother. A 15-year-old teenage girl is out alone, high on drugs and alcohol, vulnerable to the evil of the world - again, whats' with this? She needs to be protected from the society around her. This mother must be sick in her mind to leave her teenage daughter in the care of strangers in a foreign country, while she headed off to a different state with her other eight younger children. I feel sympathy for her at her loss .. but her irresponsible actions sometimes take that feeling away from me.
India's image of a being a safe country (for women especially) is being tarnished .. and to put an end to that, the perverted criminals who lurk in the society need to be taught a lesson. And quick.

Moonwalk

While walking to the thirty-something seater company bus to catch my ride back home late into the night, I realised yesterday that for the first time in
almost a month or so, there was a full moon shining right above me. The whole time I turned my head upright to catch a glimpse of it, there was always the
lurking danger of me stepping onto napping dogs on the roadside and cyclists coming crashing into me. Yea, to say I am an alert pedestrian is a blatant lie.
In those few moments i spent staring up, quite a few thoughts sprung into my head. Some associate the moon with a lover, whom they miss so dearly. Others see
the moon and the accompanying twinkling stars as a perfect visage of happiness. While there are also a handful who are 'poetically' inclined towards the moon, as
it inspires them to write innumerable sonnets about it, there are also a few who have fallen in love with the moon and wish they could have it!
Here comes the sensitive, emotional side of me. I'm an avid night-sky gazer. I was walking along a dark road, a shortcut to where my bus waited. The light
from the moon cast a glow that illuminated the darkness and allowed me to see into the night. On full moon nights, I usually leer up at the sky and think. Thinking about what sort of excitement I really need in my life right now. A girl? My own business? Or a high-paying respected job? I'm clueless. I wouldn't say that staring at the night sky is a desultory pastime that I have. It tends to be appeasing in a way, particularly after a vexing day at work because it allows me to figure out what I have with me right now, what i need and what i dont have .. in life. I think about my dear dad too, who's watching over my family and me from up there..
When i reached home last night, I read it on some site that there was a lunar eclipse very early in the morning, the day before. Damn, i missed it!
An ideal full moon night for me would be sitting outside with .. a campfire, in the country, no lights to deal with, a cold beer, your best mate or lover, the moon, the stars and your favourite songs being played on the radio .. it just wouldn't get any better than that.
Though the walk to the bus usually takes just 5 minutes, I took shorter steps yesterday, deliberately ...

The Grinch who stole Valentine's Day

Although I'm a bit overdue with this post, I thought maybe I would highlight the plight of all the single people out there. And with Valentine's Day just passed, I've found it apt to write this post now ... else I'd have received so many messages from my various committed friends, calling me a bloody killjoy ... who's trying to incite all the singletons to boycott Valentine's Day!
Over the centuries, Valentine's Day has become a tender-hearted holiday when we all take time to say "I love you" to those who are near and dear to our hearts. Whether that's achieved through a melting romantic poem written just for her, a sentimental hand-written note, a carefully selected greeting card, a dozen roses, a box of candy, or even an e-card, V-Day is special to all who receive a token of affection on that day. Love is in the air. Love is an emotion for which you would give up everything, to just feel it once, to know that you are part of something special. Though I may not have the required expertise to comment on love as I have'nt been in any relationship till date (nah, not a big deal) , I've seen love blossom - and shatter - many a time around me.
Let me reverse roles for a moment here. For the next few lines I write, I am a pessimistic love-hater who loathes Valentine's Day. For as long as I can remember, V-day has come and gone like an irritating zit on my nose. Lovey-dovey couples getting all mushy over each other, not-so lovey-dovey couples incessantly telling how much they love each other though they dont show their feelings effusively, long-time couples sighted scurrying around malls and supermarkets looking to nab the perfect gifts for each other .. gifts that hurls the words 'i love you' louder than each other's ... ... who can stand all this?
The ones I feel who cant stand all this ... are the singletons. The singles could completely denounce the stories behind Saint Valentine and Cupid (whats' the story behind Saint Valentine btw? ). Everywhere they look there are mixtures of red and pink. "God I hate pink", they'll say. The singletons complain that not finding a girl or date atleast on V-Day has worsened their current state of loneliness and dejection. Singles bear the brunt of any social gathering too. They are excluded from weekend evening events. People assume that because they are single they don't have anything to do, they can take the travel assignment that no one wants .. and they can cover the holidays. So how do the singletons survive this day? Ignoring this FAKE day is a start! Vehemently scream - "Valentine's Day is fraud!"
Back to my other role. A dear friend of mine believes that 'good things happen when you least expect them to' . In his quiver, Cupid's got arrows with our names inscribed on them. He's got a long list which pairs each one of us with our meant-to-be. When the time is right, he'll strike. You might not be ready for the gentle poke on your arse, but that's how he works. Why do we have to tell our dear ones that we love them so much, only on V-Day? So fellow singletons, its no big deal .. do not fret. Valentine's Day is just another day, come and gone, in our calendar. A day will come when true love slaps each one of us on the face (after Cupid does his job ofcourse) and then on the coming Feb 14, we'll passionately scream, 'I just love Valentine's Day!'

Reborn

Picture this. A bold strong voice starts to speak, 'somewhere deep in the middle of nowhere, a man is reborn. The ashes from his previous life .. .. ' . . and it goes on. Just like in the beginning of the trailers of those Hollywood action hero flicks. Got a faint idea? ok .. thats it, stop. Why? Naah .. i just wanted to make an entry (ok, yea .. in style).
After a hiatus of a little more than a year, I thought I'd pick up my dusty pen (not literally) and start blogging again. This feels a bit weird now .. so i apologise for any bullshit that i may post or for posts that make absolutely no sense whatsoever.
If you ask any of my friends - or you can save the trouble and just believe when i say it - i love eggs. Why in chicken's name am i talking about eggs now, you may ask? Hold on hold on .. i'm coming to the point. Its simple actually. Scrambled or hard boiled .. eggs find a place in my list of favourite food! My favourite egg preparation is the .. sunny side up kind. Hence, the renaming of my blog. To my fellow Malayalee brothers and sisters, " aliya..nammude bullseye ille..adu thanne! " If someone wants me to explain this new title with reference to life, well .. i'm not going to start some inspirational talk and try to motivate anyone. To anyone who actually does ask me - you schmuck, can't you get it? Look up to life .. don't ever cower in front of it. Walk with your chin up high. I can't make it even more simpler than this.
In the past one year, I've had my share of regrets, (unfortunatey) bagged a job in an IT company and realised that I had some of the best years of my life in college after I became an alumnus of the same. I became an engineer too .. somewhere along the way.
Lets bring back that voice again - ' keep reading this space, stay tuned for more .. ' Ok, enough of that now.

the true spirit of christmas?

Not so long ago, a friend of mine believed she had this crazy ability to correctly ‘predict’ (say, 10 - 27 percent of the time) a few of a person’s qualities . So I gave her a shot at ‘predicting’ the kind of person I am. One of the lines she came up with was - ‘you find happiness in all the small things in life’. Hmm .. okay. Maybe true. But wait, how much of life does small cover?
This year I spent my Christmas holidays in Trivandrum. Although I know it seems asking for a little too much, I wish for a white Christmas every year! Two days before Christmas, I realised I was glad to be home because among other things, I was exposed to lots of scrumptious delicacies which I gobbled down with absolute delight! So if someone had asked me then what Christmas meant to me, like many, I’d have said that the Christmas spirit is an attitude of happiness found in the fellowship of friends and family or the party spirit while consuming kilograms and kilograms of eateries, that includes various chicken dishes, salads, pastries etc. Food aside, spending Christmas with your family – isn’t that the way its supposed to be? Yes, it is.
That afternoon, I was engaged in my customary holiday naps when I was awakened by the sound of a playful young kid. A three-ish year-old boy jumped into the room and asked me where the toilet was. No, I hadn’t seen this boy ever in my life before and I’m sure he hadn’t seen me in his whole three-ish something years either. I was amused by his sudden presence. I directed the little cute chap to the toilet. Hehe .. I was all praise for the boldness he displayed! Then, I realised. Something was wrong with his face ... that was when my little 9 year-old cousin sis told me that he was one of my aunt’s patients. After answering nature’s call, he immediately came up and picked a chat with me. The first question he threw at me, - ‘what is that thing on your teeth?’ .. .. Yea, he was talking about my braces. If it were somebody else in his place, believe me, i’d have snorted in disgust and changed the topic! Looking at his face, I couldn’t. I had lots of praise for this innocent kid’s boldness and courage. I replied, trying to explain the whole concept of braces (with my little cousin sis squeaking with laughter behind) . I don’t know how much of it he understood, but I think he comprehended quite a lot of it. A lot of ‘kiddish’ talk followed, after telling me his name was Joel. I appreciated his inquisitiveness a lot. I had a good time played around a little with him, before he left with his parents (his parents had come for consultation with my aunt, who is a doctor). Just before he left, I asked him what he wanted for Christmas. And he replied, with his very innocuous voice - ‘For Christmas, I wish my amma and appa allow me to run while playing’. I was surprised. Run while playing?
As expected, I inquired what was wrong with Joel. My aunt told me he had a hernia operation weeks ago and among other health complications, he didn’t have sweat glands. She also added that he wouldn’t be able to live a comfortable life ahead. Walking in the sun and running around would be difficult for the boy. I felt so sad for the kid. Above all, he didn’t know what he was suffering from or why. He totally believed that he was a perfectly healthy kid.
I began to think about that being somewhat analytical, just what is the Christmas spirit? And I suppose there are a lot of potential answers to that question. To Scrooge the Christmas spirit was a ghost. To the liquor industry the Christmas spirit comes in a bottle. Some people feel that the Christmas spirit is somehow the truce that takes place in the family where nobody brings up the issues, the quarrels. I suppose for some people the Christmas spirit is expressed in a card that conveys a sentiment of well being. Mostly though, I guess the spirit of Christmas is giving presents. Thousands of rupees of worth as a result of people colliding and careening around in crowded stores, everything from candy to pieces of jewelry and everything in between and stuffing stockings and wrapping packages. And the spirit of Christmas, they tell us, is giving. And that's all right. I'm no Scrooge. I don't want to rain on anybody's parade. But I would just like to get down to the core of this deal ... what is the true spirit of Christmas? Is it fun? Is it fellowship? Is it giving? What is it?
I realised one more aspect of Christmas. More than giving away presents, sending cards and gobbling down delicious food, I realised Christmas was also about making the unfortunate people; children like Joel feel special, as they truly are. We, the fortunate, are the ones who instill hope in them. And believe me, the feeling that you get inside, caring for them, is – for the lack of a better word (and maybe lack of a comparison) – wonderful. And this shouldn’t last just for Christmas. This spirit of Christmas should live in us all throughout the year. This caring topped with love and happiness is what I believe Christmas is all about ...

Hope everyone’s having a great time .. Seasons’ Greetings y’all! And yea, have a fantastic and joyous new year -‘07!
Take care people ..