Coraline

Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten. 


  -- G.K Chesterton


Thats the quote Neil Gaiman chose to open his marvelous, thrilling book Coraline with. I've been a Gaiman fan ever since I read his Neverwhere, and bought Coraline in one of my reckless splurging sessions at Landmark, Hyderabad. 


Certainly looked like a spooky children's tale... but boy, what a chilly, scary book. And not scary just because of the demon villain, but more because of the moral/take-away of the story. 


Also, of course, to mention, is the INCREDIBLE stop motion 3D movie they made of it. I caught it on TV  here in the US, and they followed up the movie with a 15-min making of. And this my friends, is what you call animation. Here's a quick peek.

The Return of Percy Jackson

When I bought one and then all five of the Percy Jackson series, I had to finally admit to myself that I am a sucker for children's fantasy. It was no Harry Potter of course, but it was fun to learn Greek mythology in that way, considering my education didn't cover it at all. I really didn't know ANYTHING about Greek mythology other than maybe Aphrodite's name. It was also fun to compare, in my head, the differences between the styles of JK Rowling, who is so distinctly British and Rick Riordan whose humour is so reflective of American goofiness. Very different. Not the forget the food. At Hogwarts, we read about delicious feasts and puddings, and grabbed turkey legs from the magical plates, whereas at Camp Half-Blood in Percy Jackson world, it's pizza and coke that made the demi-Gods drool. That was disturbing.

Anyway, so I finished the Percy Jackson series in about 10 days, and was sad to say goodbye to another hero. Atleast I thought it was goodbye.

A week ago I saw Rick Riordan's newly released The Lost Hero in a bookstore, and sneakily ordered it online with a couple of other books. And I was happy to plunge back into the world of demi-Gods, meet a bunch of new characters in the same old setting, but a new twist.

The twist being, we are slowly delving into Roman mythology. Percy Jackson was "missing/kidnapped" the entire book, but a not-so-subtle hint at the end of the book revealed that he is going to be playing a much bigger part in the next book -- The Son of Neptune. (Nepture aka Roman name for Posiedon.) So, excitement is there slightly. Sucky part is that the book is out Fall 2011. Nicely done by Riordan to bring back the Hero after his series ended. Makes me fervently wish that Rowling will just write something soon. Anything. (She is writing apparently, but she is so secretive.)

So that brings us back to focusing on the Harry Potter mania about the grip the world this weekend. I can hardly believe that my tickets are for real.

Of shopping online

They may looks pretty, and they may come at a great discount, I'm pretty sure I would never ever buy a pair of boots online. Just saying.

Small Pleasures #658

Receiving a secretly ordered package of hardbound books. Double points if it's a bunch of Children's Fantasy books.

Vivian Maier

I don't remember how I came across this blog, but it has grown to become my absolute favourite. It's not a tech blog, or a personal diary, or a comic, or dooce. It's a photoblog -- Vivian Maier - Her Discovered Work. I love it because its so unique.

The story starts when this man bought a bunch of film negatives and a few negative prints at a furniture auction. He was not a photographer. But slowly began to develop film rolls from the hundreds of rolls he had. And what he discovered was the exceptional street photographs in Chicago from the 1950s to 1990s by a woman called Vivian Maier. He now posts her photos on the blog. 

Not that much is known about her other than she was a French woman who considered herself a film critic, and was a nanny to children in Chicago. Pleasantly surprised today to read that a documentary is being filmed about her. Until then, enjoy the photos.

PS: Read more about the story here: http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art/features/little-miss-big-shot-fifties-america-exposed-ndash-by-a-french-nanny-1811040.html

The fountains at Bellagio

I hadn't fully grasped how magnificent a fountain could be before I stood in front of the dancing fountains of the Bellagio in Vegas.
I got really overwhelmed by the combination of the music and the pretty dancing fountains and had tears slipping down my face, it was eerie. It was "Time to say Goodbye" by Andrea Bolecci. Don't miss this when you get a chance to see this live.



Ps: I haven't posted the video I took because I discovered my own moaning soundtrack on it, and I'll spare you that. We saw it during the day, and it was amazing in the sunlight.

PPs: Probably wouldn't have cried if it had been another song. This one just hit the spot.

Damn it, the name is Afrin

I'm kinda high right now and I was just struck with the most horrifying thought. So, remember I wrote this post about being unamused to find that for once, a person's first association with my name wasn't an image of the sexy Lisa Ray walking in a desert to the song Afreen, Afreen, but was instead to the brand of nasal drops in the US.

And now that I really am in the US, the tables have turned. It's disturbing to think that 99% of people who meet me will first think of Afrin Nasal Drops (*tagline- No drip) when they hear my name. Not an exotic music video. Great.

Being 25 is weird when...

... you look at your classmates' photos and see middle-aged people instead. Gulp.

More Potter Mania

I've loved Harry Potter for 11 years. Can you beat that? Has it really been 11 years since the magic of JK Rowlings world took my world to a whole new level? The best part is that its not been a phase... not like The Famous Five books (which are still awesome) but dont hold me in the same grip as they did when I was 10. Not like how the Backstreet Boys were awesome when I was 13.


It's been along-lasting and deeply fulfilling love affair. From hours of entertainment, a place to escape to when I'm low, to chirpy conversations with strangers, Potter has been a great best friend.


And Potter stuff is epic. A children's fantasy series has never before gripped the adult audience like this. I love that I can buy a Potter wand, or Gringott coins, or a golden snitch. I love that Emma Watson will always be Hermione. I love that JK Rowling says that someday she might want to go back to Harry's world and write another story. 

But in the meantime, I'll wait with bated breath for the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to hit the screen. And maybe get a Potter tattoo to celebrate the longtime love.

Of Indians and Americans

After three months of living in a new country, I see my own in a fairly different light.

I remember Geography lessons in school often had really general statements like: Culture: French people enjoy doing so and so, or African people are known to be so and so. And I always found it weird that you could make such a generalized bracket for such a large group of people -- a whole country! Especially because I really couldn't think of many such brackets for Indians in terms of habits or recreation. (Ok, maybe Cricket and Bollywood, but not that much more.)

Living here in the USA for the past three months though, I've drawn up a few observational statements myself. Of course, these are very limited to my limited exposure and experiences in this time. (Not a lot so far.)

1) Americans are great at managing their work/personal life balance. Again, maybe I'm mistaken, but it certainly feels like people here have the right balance of not getting too crazy about working long hours, long weekends, and late nights. Back home it is so much more competitive, stressful, probably accentuated by the long hours of commute most people have to put in.

2) Indians are more self-conscious, and that, sometimes leads to social awkwardness. Americans on the other hand, are mostly way bolder,  more confident and comfortable talking to complete strangers. I met a guy who while interacting on a purely business situation, used the word fuck in our first encounter. Certainly wont see that happening a lot in India.

3) American businesses are, quite majorly, swindlers. Watching all the TV ads that I have while being here, and the experiences in shopping complexes, I come away with a strong feeling of being lied to, and just plainly, feeling trapped. Having to pay more than things are worth, and not necessarily getting a healthy or great deal. Indians are of course, (and famously) lot, lot, lot more cautious with their money.

4) Americans have been trained by habit, and marketing to use many more products as "must-haves" than they actually need. And, I've fallen for a bunch of them too. Right from disinfectant wipes for cleaning kitchen counters, to lint-rollers to pull pet hair off your jackets, a trip to the super-market for the monthly shopping includes way more products than we see in the average middle-class Indian household. I must say, many of them are ingenious, bring comfort and convenience, are deceivingly cheap and so fall easily into the must-have category.

5) The American education system is an effective system that produces confident young people. Never having been to school here, I maybe completely off-target, but it's the feeling I get when I see kids here. Even though the (urban) high-school drop-out rate maybe higher here, and cases of bullying and peer pressure maybe a lot more frequent and intense, kids here have a much greater sense of self-confidence and comfort in expressing strong opinions. Personal expression and unique interpretations are encouraged and valued, as compared to the learn-books-verbatim pressures in Indian education. The scene is definitely changing dramatically in India though, in the past decade at least.

6) The average English-speaking Indian's enunciations and pronunciations are well, below-average. The  regular govt. school's curriculum doesn't stress on phonetics. Something that I personally feel really shitty about, although it is amusing and entertaining (as nicely highlighted by Russell Peters.)

That's all for now, I'm sure I could think plenty more if I tried, but it's been a long enough post anyway.

PS: To further establish point number 5; I have been hesitating the past few minutes if I want to publish this post or not in apprehension of what my Indian and American friends will think of it. But I'm just going to hit the Publish button and get on with life, because IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I HAVE, DAMN IT.

Extracts from the book -1

"We do not realize what mysterious stuff animates the living bodies, causing marvelous physical and chemical reactions while the owners of the bodies know nothing of what is happening in them, know nothing of the intelligence which regulates the body machine, which builds it in the womb, preserves it in illness, sustains it in danger, and heals it when injured."

Kundalini

Came across this tiny little book called Kundalini at Crossword. It's incredible. I'm amazed I found it.. its the account of a man who in 1937, after about 20 years of meditation found that his kundalini energy was awakened, and how totally unprepared to deal with it he was and how confused, and utterly crazed by it he got.

20 years later he wrote this honest and almost scientific narrative about his experiences and understanding of kundalini and the possibility we all have of reaching an expanded consciousness. Its definitely a topic that is so mysterious, and almost seems like a secret and sacred concept, not to be taken lightly.

Am still reading it, but anyone who wants to borrow it, ping me.

A blow by blow account of the fortnight that was.

To say that my most recent trip to Mountain View was eventful is an understatement. Thrilling, disastrous, intensely nuts, and just plain flabbergasting are better words. It began at the beginning.

I get to the airport at midnight for my 4:00 am Emirates flight, and when the guard at the entrance checks my ticket he reveals to me that my flight took off the night before. I said, "Are you saying I missed my flight?" "Yes." I stared at him open-mouthed and he asked me generally where I was from. "Bombay" I said. "You're all educated and from Bombay and you can't understand your flight date?" he smirked. But I guess he felt sympathetic a second after and told me to go talk to the Emirates guys. He said there was a good chance that I might get another flight. And I did. Which was good. Disaster 1 faced and dealt with. Had to shell out 6,000 bucks and got on the flight that I expected to be on. (After a few panicking calls to friends and the excellent Emirates customer service guys.) (Not kidding, they were totally superawesome all through.)

Well, so I made it to lovely San Francisco and was greeted by my beloved and we drove happily home, attended a nice punk concert, and watched a movie (the book of Eli -- was decent) that weekend. Unaware of what madness was soon to ensue.

Wednesday we met with a car accident while driving to work. Boom, in a second the airbags were on our faces, slight smoke in the car and an horrible crunching sound before everything was still. The doors were slightly stuck but we pushed out of the car and got out in a daze. The car we had crashed into was unharmed (a big land rover), our engine was crumpled. I called 911. Waited for the cops, shivering and feeling pathetic. But grateful that no one was hurt.

Tone says he saw everything in slow motion, (like in the movies), I had no such experience. I almost don't remember how it happened, except for the shock of it. Well, anyway, we were interviewed by cops and they made little notes in their note pads and then called us a towing truck that towed us away to a car repair shop who called a rental service and we ended up with a big dodge ram truck.

Feeling shaken but with a strong urge to do something we planned on anyway, we went on with our appointments to see apartments to rent. Checked out three that day and also later when to an animal shelter to look for a puppy to adopt. And there we met pretty little December who totally won our hearts with her absolutely mad energy and enthusiasm and her tiny gracefulness. And other things. But the shelter said that we couldn't have her until we showed proof that our landlord didn't mind us having pets, and for that, we needed to find an apartment. And they wouldn't hold the puppy for us for more than 24 hours. So, a bit sad, we went home with determination to find an apartment and finish that matter off asap.

Some more house hunting later, we were down to 3 options (out of 5, ha) but still all were really good, within our budgets, close to office and we didn't know which to pick. Two were two-bedrooms and one was a single bedroom. After much discussions and nail-biting we settled on one of the two bedrooms and left to go pay the deposit amount. And then changed our mind last minute (because the broker was a bit of a jackass on the phone) and went to the 1-bedroom. And instantly knew that it was the right thing... cheaper, smaller but still enough room for all our things and a very large patio from which sunlight flows in in the mornings and a view of three very pretty redwood trees across the street. And a bedroom with a full mirror closet wall! (Which is so awesome after ages without a decent mirror, am thrilled. Anyway.)

We went to the animal shelter and found that December was still available for adoption and we 'booked' her and got an appointment to come the next day with some money and a letter from the landlord (who's an awesome dude with two dogs himself) and get our little bundle of puppylove.

So we rented a U-haul truck to move our stuff the next day and begun packing. The next morning, we found that the car we'd borrowed from Tone's mom was broken into and Tone's backpack stolen. With many precious and important possessions. Including our new Nikon d90, laptop, his passport. Unbelievable.

Another session with a cop later, we moved our stuff. It wasn't pleasant feelings in my stomach those few days, but we just had to accept and deal with what was happening. I felt superstitious.

We went back to the animal shelter for our appointment to get little December. They gave us a bunch of papers and her history and we bought her some stuff and I cuddled her tiny shivering-with-excitement body all the way back home. She's the most inquisitive thing in the world and wants to look at everything she can.

We got home and stared at her and played and tickled and got to know her. (Of course, we couldn't take our eyes off her a second that night to make sure she wasn't going to pee on our brand new home's carpets.) But she is a good little puppy and we started thinking of names to give her (even the people in the shelter said they had no idea who or why someone had called her December.) So we toyed with Betty, Betsy and random other names. Ok this post is long. But am sorry, I need to write down my version of "A Series of Unfortunate Events" (the phrase that kept repeating in my head all week).

Well, in hindsight the worst of it was over, and the minor-ish incidents that followed, as annoying as they were, don't seem so bad.

Oh wait, by the way, the thieves who broke into the car, also STOLE the keys of the rented truck. And the rental company didn't have extra keys -- so we were basically stuck with that stupid big truck for a few more days until we managed to get that sorted out.

We cooked. Ate nice Indian food. Enjoyed our new home. I was on vacation, so I was at home with the puppy while Tone went to work on the weekdays (he was just 5 mins away so would drop in for an hour midday), played with the brand new Nexus phone Tone bought (I know, I want one too). Which met with its death one morning. From overheating. While being charged. Because it got pushed under a pillow. Seriously, at that point I felt that things were getting ridiculously absurd.

Oh, we'd named her Jolie. Coz she's so pretty. And I had two dogs before called Julie. I didn't want to duplicate, but I basically did.

So that was that week. What an eventful, crazy trip.

Oh, and if you're into awesome, fun games, play Plants Vs Zombies. You've to download it, its superbrilliant. I guess it took our worries away for the few hours we'd spend playing it -- level after level of destroying zombies.

The week could have been worse, so no regrets. Well ok, just a few, but whatever. We survived.

Laboratory

Getting acquainted with room heaters, dishwashers, ovens and other kitchen apparatus.

Spiritual Diary

One day not long ago, an exuberant man from South India was traveling in the country, north of Vancouver, Canada. Seeing that his car needed gasoline, he stopped at the first station he came to, a rural one deep in the Canadian woods. He has just gotten out of his car and begun to fill his tank when he noticed an old Native American man leaning against a nearby pick-up truck and looking at him intently. The two men did not known each other, but soon the older man slowly walked toward the man pumping gas.

When he was near, he said to the man from India, "The winds told us of your coming brother," and he bowed respectfully.

____

"I was not used to hearing such glowing accounts of lasting benefits. He claimed that only after meeting Sadhguru and learning the practices that Sadhguru had taught him that he underwent a significant life transformation. I wondered if it was possible that this young man had actually found an authentic, living guru. Something seemed to be working. He definitely had an unusually pleasant and peaceful demeanor.

But my skeptical side would not be so easily persuaded. To begin with, there was way too much reverence in his description of Sadhguru to suit me, and this left me cold. There's nothing like an over abundance of devotion to rankle me. On top of that he said that Sadhguru had an organizationof more than ten thousand volunteers worldwide, which made me uncomfortable just hearing about it. I even wondered if this had the flavour of a cult."

- excerpts from Midnights with the Mystic.

Spiritual Diary

-- Isaac Newton saw an aple falling down from a tree and he propounded a whole theory on how everything falls down. Yes, it is true, an apple falls down, but he missed the whole point that the tree is growing up.

-- There are two major aspects in you -- one is the instinct of survival which is always holding you down, another is your longing to become boundless.

(excerpt from Sadhguru's talk)

Somethings are just.. inevitable. Or are they?

Art

"People want to be bowled over by something special. Nine times out of ten you can forget, but that tenth time, that peak experience, is what people want. That's what can move the world. That's art."

Murakami

A situation where the book you are reading turns out to be...

Just begun a book that had attracted me about two and a half years ago maybe.

Haruki Murakami's South of the border, West of the sun.

Have wanted to read it forever. Browsed and read a few pages many times, but somehow didn't buy it until recently, and begun reading it today.

And 5 chapters into the book and I'm gone. Swept away and lost, demolished, devastated, enchanted, terrified.

I don't think I could have read the book the same way 2 years ago. The events since then, have changed so much in my life and the book seems to bear uncanny resemblance to some of those events.

Coincidence, timing, some closure to a circle, blah blah.

O Murakami. But ya, fairly likely that I'm just going nuts.

Remorse, maybe

I wish I didnt have to walk past you and pretend you didnt exist. Or that I didnt know you. Or that I didnt want to stop you and say -- something. Maybe nothing.

I wont say 'it was meant to be this way.' Just the play of karma. And karma is alive and breathing. And eating your every thought and action. Maybe every moment of consciousness is a chance to do it right.