grey

It's been only three months and two weeks.

They came from across the world. From different time zones. Different countries. Different cities. But they all made it.

It's when I was going over my final guest list, did I realise every single person I love was going to be there. And they were. And they left me with the most beautiful two days of my life.

I wish I had words to thank them for being there. For being there for me, to share this special day with me.

Sometimes you don't even realise how much you mean to people. This made me.

I understood every single relationship I have with my family and friends. Each one of them.

You don't need words. Or a hug. Or even weekly calls. When it's the real kind of love, you just feel it in your bones.

Accepting a new family made me fiercely loyal and protective of those I already loved. Made me appreciate them in a whole new light.

Made me miss them terribly.

Some relationships are undefined. Not because you can't define them but because you don't need to define them. You like them that way. 

While some are so precisely defined, it's almost set in stone. One of those is the one you share with your parents. It's a whole new level of comfortable. Of honesty. Of respect. Of unconditional love. You love them more than you did before. You cherish them more. You need them more than ever before. And you realise they will always be there. No matter what. You feel that everyone in the world might leave your side. But those two awesome souls never will. No matter what. It's such a pure feeling. You feel blessed. Truly blessed. And I feel a little more special cause I have two sets of those to spoil me.

Love comes in all sizes. You come to realise you need all of them. 

It doesn't have a definition. It's not black or white. It is simply grey.

General musings

Its been a while, which is a good thing because now too many thoughts need to be penned.. err.. typed. Some ponderings are old, and some older. Please bear with me.

We have a beautiful national anthem, with meaningful lyrics and a lovely tune. Patriotism at its best. Since 2003, we have been standing to the national anthem right before the movie, juggling coke, popcorn, samosa and the wonderful variety of snacks now available, paying respect to it while munching the delicious cheese (I despise caramel corn) popcorn, doing justice to the flavour as should be done. Now other than being trivially inconvenient, what is this forced patriotism? Last I checked we were a democracy, I think. No, this isn’t some petition to stop it (I really would love to sign one though) but to truly wonder why are we subjected to such absurdity (to name one)? Playing the anthem before Dum Maro Dum or LSD is as inappropriate as playing dhanno as a tribute to Ambedkar. Don’t get me wrong, I love my country and all that, but to force me to sing my love (before every movie) is just asking for a word-lash or I should just follow my Dad, who protests in his small way by refusing to stand to it in the movie hall simply because he says “stop forcing me to!”

Moving on to nicer things. I’m a self-proclaimed caffeinated soul, literally. So with Costa here, I jumped with joy, again literally. My love for Costa goes back to London – running from the town centre to class, the perfect cuppa made the rush effortless. What I saw, made me fall in love with the brand all over again. Not only do they make heavenly coffee, they hire the deaf/mute as paid employees. In a country which is infrastructural-ly useless to the disabled, I almost had a tear (yes my heart goes out to them) when I saw the guy who took my order to perfection, explain my special mix to the barista in sign language. And the coffee was made to perfection. I thanked him with the biggest smile of happiness. I have never seen any place in India employ them, and I wish they take note of this. It really reaffirmed my faith in humanity; we aren’t going to die a heartless sinning lot after all. Even if Costa starts giving me shit coffee, I’ll buy a bottle of water if I have to, just to show them my loyalty and support for their policy.

By the way, there is a photographer who has a website where he uploads one photograph daily, of a random thing, and they always make me smile. I lost the url of the site, and have probably jammed google engines, but I can’t find who it is. The page layout is simple, with just one image. He lives in the states if I’m not wrong. Help?

The night of the World Cup win was legen.. wait for it.. dary! Nothing in this world unites the Indians more than cricket. Not poverty, not religion.. the electricity and passion on marine drive that night was intoxicating. Its beautiful to see such love for cricket. A special salute to Tendulkar, who is truly God’s child.

I’m tired of arguing and being forced to take sides on my love and loyalty for Apple (because I am a graphic designer) and the Blackberry (because I love bbm and a qwerty keyboard). Why can I not love both?

Please watch Barney’s Version – it redefines love and humor. Very few movies touch the soul.

Oh and the next time someone tells you they saw a movie on HBO, you can confidently tell them, “No! You didn’t!” With half the scenes cut, leaving a pointless storyline, HBO really shouldn’t bother even airing anything except children’s films (please no cartoons in Hindi).

Indian city names have changed to absurd ones. Some which are so hard to even say. India fascinates me every day.

We all get excited when we see a Ferrari zip by. But that excitement dies down with the double the force that it came, when you see a really old uncle in it. Why do we have to be 60 to be able to afford one?

P.S. Censorship issues seem to create the same magnitude of controversy as the 2G scam. So apparently it is important to cut out offensive lines/scenes in movies, even if it is essential to the script. Maybe, just maybe, the censor board should do more than talk when they give an Adult Certification to a film after chopping portions of it. Stop allowing 3-4 year olds from entering the movie hall with parents who have no one to babysit (rent a dvd or find a way!). No, kids are not stupid and yes that is the most impressionable age of a child especially when he/she is watching (umm) man and woman on the beach after snorting coke or an abusive, alcoholic father beating his 6-year-old black and blue!

Misnomer

I have concluded that, it's when something amuses me or makes me gape in awe (good or bad is subjective), I write.


Inspired by another, I couldn't resist blogging about the joke that design has become, more often than not. Names must not be taken, the references then can be rather interesting.


The giant lit up signs, of company logos, at the end of Haji Ali facing the sea, made me think - the company in question must think of re-designing their logo. It worked when it came out, but design has undergone radical changes since. And a few weeks later, a fellow designer came shocked to me asking if I had seen the new hoardings. I thought my wish had come true! Well Google has all the answers, there it was. Staring back at me from the gorgeous new iMac screen (it doesn't deserve to be on that beautiful screen) - I was in awe.


Could it be possible? Was it a joke? Were my eyes deceiving me?


Design isn't my job, its my passion. What were they thinking? The company, the designers and everyone who even gave their two bits in the creation of this atrocity. No real logic, it seems the monogram or whatever it can be called, was a letter. Then why the new naming the logo nonsense? Don't they know what they created, oh I'm sorry I forgot, they don't. The font, I'd rather not start. It was all such a bad cocktail. The kind that makes you throw up, have the world's worst hangover and makes you wish you never drink again. The bartender is an idiot.


The ingredients seem to be - a fellow competitor's colours, a home appliance brand turned upside down and twisted, a bad typographer (or none in this case) and a whole lot of day and night blindness. Does the ad campaign even have a real message? Are we fools to buy it?


I just don't understand, and believe me I have tried.


So to win the contest, it should be called - a mistake. 


It is a misnomer, it is not a logo.


How can we forget the Gap re-branding fiasco. At least they had good sense eventually. We have truly learnt nothing. India is shining in bright and bold ways - ways we will never understand. Clap clap!

Time & Alone

While making the decision to go study overseas, I got a very sound piece of advice - You will learn how to spend quality time with yourself. At that age of rebellion and teenage silliness, I didn't quite understand what it meant and dismissed it as a part of the 'gyaan' I was getting from the adults around me.


Forward to 5 years later - now, I'm still discovering a new dimension to it almost everyday.


I don't know what to do at home. - a statement most people seem to make more often than not. And it surprises me, not in a derogatory way, but a genuine awe of sometimes how emotionally dependent our society makes us, that being with yourself is unheard of - even taboo, if I may say so. 


It starts very young.


Parent - Come out tomorrow for the party.
Son - I'm a little tired and want to be by myself for sometime. So is it ok if I don't go?
Parent - Are you stupid? What will you do home alone? You are coming.


Overseas, we do our daily activities alone - eat, shop, school, chores, even drinks. (movies alone is still creepy to me). And it's not lack of social skills or friends, its just that we like doing these things alone. Its peaceful. Its the most important time and have taught me the most.


Of late too many people around me have been complaining about being 'alone'. Not single, not without family, but alone, by themselves. Ya well reality check we all are. We fill it up with people and things. 


Retrospection. Introspection. Instincts. Eureka moments. I think they all come alive when you spend time with yourself. This isn't some philosophy or gyaan, but just acknowledgement of that fact that too many are scared of spending time with themselves, because they are not sure of what to do with themselves.


What is it I'm trying to wonder the real reason for this fear? Are we unable to draw the line between alone and being lonely?

A Midsummer Night's Dream

I thought I'd start with something I wrote 4 years ago.. here goes..

If any of you theatre fanatics out there missed Tim Supple's briliantly directed and multi-lingual A Midsummer Night's Dream, feel really bad! Sponsored by the British Council, I happened to go for it by chance and witnessed India come alive through Shakespeare's comedy.

Yes, most of us have read one or another of Shakespeare's plays at some point in our school/college life. My interest started with the study of Julius Caesar, which I might add was so not done justice with in the inadequate ICSE system. Anyhow, I loved Hamlet and King Lear taught while I was doin the IB. Now there was some justice done to Shakespeare, we literally analyzed every word in the book and I'm so glad we did.

This particular production of AMND (I'm gonna use this abbreviation everytime I need to mention the name) was so far beyond what I had expected. It had 7 Indian languages and English, and almost every character spoke atleast 2 of the 8. I think the reason I enjoyed it so much was that the entire play was so Indianized. Right from Bottom's clan where one of his colleagues was wearing a dhoti and carryin a stick from which dangled, our very own indian pots and other steel vessels, clanging all over the stage. With actors from across the country and even the world, I loved the Indian music, I loved the idea that Shakespeare could actually be converted and shown in such a desi version breakin away from the monotony of being all English. It was like a wild dream come true and truly fascinating to see Puck (the cutest of the lot in his silly red underwear creating comeplete chaos among the characters with his unforgetable mischevious smile like a lil imp) convey Shakespeare in such fluent Hindi! The acrobatic stunts, which all the characters were amazing at, are also worth a special mention. Lighting, music were extremely good and the sets and costumes were gorgeous (such beautiful zari)! It was hilarious and surpassed all my expectations! I was in plain simple awe... the entire time! This production of AMND, I feel, gave Shakespeare and theatre a whole new dimension and genre! It was in one word - indescribeable!

Everytime we approach Shakespeare, we must learn to see and hear again. As he always gives us the most simple of surfaces though which we can glimpse the most complex images of ourselves. I'm not only giving the performance of AMND a standing ovation (which they actually received at the end when they all sang a beautiful song), but also trying to highlight how important and intriguing his works are, if studied with genuine interest.