Mind games

Dreams. How often have you woken up, nightmared, (thrilled maybe?) by the graphic nature of your dream?

You go back to sleep. The next morning, you remember you had a nightmare. You tell someone. Your memories are vague and blurry.

But you're telling a story. So you add a touch here and there, a twist and some logic maybe and something surreal, and fabricate your mind's fabrication...

I just read a post about a very vivid and detailed description of a nightmare. And I wondered if she got so caught up in the narration of her dream and made a movie of it.

But reality or dreams, our mind and eyes, and senses play so many tricks on our conscious - so often - enough to leave us helpless puppets danging off the chains of uncertainty - or the deep, unknown recesses of our minds.

Images. Sounds. Light. Think of what ideas they've triggered off in you when you're alone in a room. Or in an unfamiliar place. Ever felt uncomfortable or eerie around a place? Or woken up and been petrified by a shape against the wall, which turns out to just be a pair of jeans hanging on your door?

Its 2:oo am. The wind is howling. There's oblique amber light streaking into my room, from the street. I'm listening to some trippy music and have been trying to string out some intense ideas out of my mind. My door is suddenly creaking unusually, half closed. All this, while I blog about feeling eerie. I want to keep my eyes on my computer. But every few seconds I imagine I see something at the door, and I look to check if there's someone in white standing there.

All I have to say to myself firmly is - yea, its just your mind playing tricks again.

Blame it on the hormones?

I've been slightly more conscious of my behaviour recently - mainly due to some alarming emotional swings - and man, I really can't logically see or explain why I've been behaving like a retard.

I've been rude without realizing it, walked out of conversations with my ears red and steaming, behaved like a submissive little puppy, burst into tears without warning, laughed hysterically (but maybe that's normal), turned incapable of conversation, bullied innocent by-standers, and similar variations of retardedness.

But apparently, I can easily classify any of this under PMS, or other hormonal functions, and get away with it! Weird, and dangerous, I would say. Makes me wonder about psychological disorders. And the classic case of someone with a multiple personality disorder pleading innocent for a murder that he didn't commit, but an alter-ego did.

But will just leave this thought here, with a shake of head and sigh of incomprehension of the complexities of a human being. Or all things living. Or everything that exists. Yea, too large a thought. Good night.

-

Damn. 11 days since my last post.

Trying, but can't blog. Not a word.

Facebook vs Google?

The bees that buzz are buzzing about Facebook taking over the Internet, and knocking down Google and destroying our happy existence. Silly bees.

Let's do a pot analysis.

I'm 23 years old. Female. Single. I spend approximately 12 hours a day online. I live in a city away from home, and most of my closest friends are in another city. I do not suffer from any psychological disturbance other than regular attacks of stupidity and moronness.

That makes me a strong target audience for any social networking site, right?

Right.

I have accounts with Orkut, and Facebook. I've uploaded photos, and videos, and joined groups, and poked, and thrown food at my friends, and scrapped, read my fortune cookie. But, after an initial burst of frenzied Orkutting or Facebooking, time spent on either Facebook or Orkut has dwindled to about 10 minutes a week.

I maybe an isolated case (though I doubt it), but social networks are getting to be more spammy, containing more viruses, and more risk of abuse that before, and that's certainly a huge drawback. I definitely have better things to do online that be hassled (and hassle others) by all that.

OpenSocial is cool, and developing apps is neat, but how many 'Who Kissed the Frog?'quizzes on Facebook are you going to take, or how kicked are you really going to be to find out your 'Hotness Quotient' and how many times? Especially when your other options of spending time only might be more informative or worthwhile. I personally don't have much time to waste on either Orkut or Facebook. But ---

I'm not going to be prissy. I'm going to put myself in the shoes of Facebook, and see why they're so excited.

Hmm. Nice view. Social Networking sites, and well, Facebook being the uncrowned Queen of 'em all, certainly has lots to be excited about. A huge proportion of page views across the world, are on Social Networking Sites. And almost anyone who's new to the Internet (especially true for countries where the Internet is just beginning to grow roots) will start off using Social Networking. Fairly huge plus point (to build loyalties?).

Facebook is also encouraging a lot of innovativeness, which has been mainly associated with Google all these years, and it is definitely at a good place with its Open Platform - their best card on the table.

So to wrap up, I'd say Facebook is exciting and all that jazz, and sure they'll sell ads, and sure they'll make money. But, if you ask me if Facebook is a huge threat to Google, I can only snort a magnificent snort in the style of Gimli the Dwarf. That should suffice.

India Daily Photo Dot Com

Revealing something I've been working on over the weekend.

Revealing something that's not ready for an audience. Yet. But what the hell.

Pranav Shah will be collaborator on this project, and hopefully we'll have more who'd want to join us.

www.indiadailyphoto.com

Not ready yet. But dekko.

I'm feeling ugly

A bitter mind is an ugly thing.

It recycles your hurt and turns it into a negative, revenge-seeking thought-spewer.

I'm feeling bitter and I'm trying to fight it. I'm ok when I'm busy. But come a moment of idleness, and it seeps back.

I've got to swallow it down. Will the passing of time do it automatically? Or possibly, some magic.

Twentieth Century Cow

Do you ever wonder what this enormous, huge population of India is doing? I'll tell you.

I caught a bit of a TV news clip this morning of a rural celebration. There were hundreds of people. Trumpets and horn blowing. Priests and prayers, and feasts. Crowds and crowds of people, cramped up and praying. Wait till you hear what they were celebrating...

And things like this is what loads of people in my country are spending enormous amounts of energy and time doing - (all that trumpet blowing and ringing of bells has got to be exhausting.)

They were celebrating the wedding of a cow and a bull.

I feel like crying.

Joy is coming

Over the past 4 days, I have been caught behaving like a soon to-be bride. I'm lost in thought and smiling to myself, and jumping out of my skin when I notice other human beings around me.

My new Digi SLR is coming soon. And just the thought of holding it, and hearing it makes me smile.

Buffalo buffalo?

'Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo,' is a grammatically complete and correct sentence. In the English language.

Don't ask me how. Ask Wikipedia.

Don't ask me why either. That's my question.

Thinking domains

I bought another domain today. And all this domain buying business sort of makes you think domains all the time. And that makes you look up a domain that pops up in your head (especially when you're sure it's got to be bought by someone) and check out what they're doing with it.

Today, I randomly checked out -
www.bored.com
www.iowntheinternet.com
www.bringiton.com
www.webjargon.com

Most threw up pop ups. The first two are positively depressing. The last is for sale... I'd buy only if I knew I'd do something worthwhile. But someone sure can do something fun with it. Any takers?

Seguey back in time

I time-traveled today, with a beer mug. Was good fun.

I saw myself, sitting on a bench in the great grand hall of St. Xavier's College, while some boys were jamming on stage. It was 2003. Nitin was 19 years old, with his eyes shut, clenching a microphone. Vikas, 18, shy and weird, playing drums. Sam and Sneh, guitars and keyboards. Both girls I was in awe of. Shammi, my ex-boyfriend, was gazing obliquely at everyone.

It's weird to go back in time and see yourself. I was a different person then. It was the time I was just getting exposed to rock music, and the culture of sex-drugs-rock-n-roll. Slightly shaken. I thought those people were my friends. But I hardly ever, ever spoke. A long, long time ago. I was a different person then.

I time-traveled with, my mug of beer, and Radiohead's Creep.

Show Hide

I've been phenomenally obsessed with Google Reader for quite some time now. I don't know how I ever lived without it. I really actually used to visit each of the blogs I followed to check for updates. Stupefyingly stupid.

And now I'm quite kicked with the little button that shows you the number of subscribers each blog has, and how frequently the blog updates.

Dooce

I've been reading Dooce for a quite some months. I fell in love with her writing and her photography, and then quite naturally, became intensely jealous.

She's clean swept the Bloggies Awards this year - Weblog of the Year, Best American Blog, Best Design Blog and the Lifetime Achievement Award.

Insane. To quote her.

But boy, can I say anything except for she deserves it.

Look her up. Am not spoon feeding you with links anymore.

Rest in peace Bahadur

Bahadur was 11 years old when he ran away from his home in Nepal and came to Bombay. To be a movie star. Of course, soon he needed a job and a place to stay, and turned out that my granny gave him both of those.

From that day on, Bahadur lived to become a member of the family.
Last night, he died of a heart attack. Age: 60 something.

He brought my mother up from the time she was a new born baby.
He refused to go back to his family in Nepal or even visit them when my granny offered him money to travel.
He was the best cook I have ever known.
Everyone in the whole locality knew Bahadur, and Bahadur had the memory of a hawk. He remembered faces and would recognize my mother's classmates even if he hadn't seen them for 30 years or so - to everyone's astonishment, including the classmate.

Ever since I've known him, (that would be all 23 years of my life), Bahadur has been always lively, always indulging us kids and each time we visited, treating us like princesses.

When I got into college, and started spending more time around my Granny's home, I'd go there often for lunch and be treated to a feast. I lived there for a whole month, and reveled in his pampering. I've taken friends home to show off his cooking.

He was very interested in movies and loved Bollywood. And was so quick at grasping what he saw on TV. I've been often amazed at his insights and comments about film makers and their style and their flaws. I wonder, if only he'd got a chance to have a better life...

The last few years as granny got older and weaker, Bahadur looked after her - feeding her, and bathing her, and looking after her constantly. And neglecting his health. Diabetes. Weak heart. Bad eating habits. No amount of pleading of ours would get him to look after his health. Carefree and cheerful, God, I'm going to miss him. Miss knowing he's there, and knowing that I'd get the warmest welcome when I drop in for a quick hello.

Always giving. Always smiling. Never hassling. Peaceful.

We will never forget Bahadur.

Bohemian Karma

I just spoke to my baby sister. And oh boy, how the tables have turned. There was a time when I was doing the things - things that would make her eyes grow wide with disbelief and admiration when I said do you know what I did today.

But yes, the tables turn, and the tides turn, and the ugly ducklings all turn into swan and fly away, and all that. My phone call to baby sister was answered with an excited - "You've called at the perfect moment!" and after a few commands I hear -- a chorus of voices, a piano and a guitar, singing, playing in the most gorgeous harmony, Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

I'm enchanted. And furiously wishing I was there in that little room, watching my sister play the piano and giggle with a group of 19-year olds at midnight, on a lovely campus of a design school. Then baby sister comes back to the phone and is eagerly waiting for my verdict. I have to put up my act of constructive critic, and I tell her everything that is fabulous, but the one phrase where the solo vocalist is going faster than the rest of the singers.

She's happy to have the feedback and will set it right. And then she thanks me for giving her the piano notations in the first place. And thanks me for forcing the song down her throat three years ago when I'd play it every single day until the day she loved it and sang it with me. And she tells me that I'm a superhero to her classmates and they all think I'm absolutely spiffing cool.

If only she knew.

If only only she knew how the tables have turned.

PS: Definitely have to do something about described fatal table-turned situation. Have to live up to spiffing reputation.

PPS: Freddy Mercury has the most incredible voice ever.

PPPS: My maternal uncle looks very much like Freddy Mercury. Except for the buck teeth.

PPPPS: I very nearly have buck teeth. But just about don't. Much thanks, oh genes.

P5S: My sister was born with two teeth. Who would think I love her so much?

Wonderland

The body is such an incredible, wondrous creation, that if I sat and wondered about its wonders, I'd be wondering for a long, long time.

I was sick yesterday, and I thought I was going to die. But I woke up this morning, and my body is as good as new. How wondrous is that?

Bombay Diary - Unexpected Trip

Was in Bombay for 2 night and 3 days courtesy Google, put up at the Hilton Towers (really really), and shuttled about in a fancy car (if one can really shuttle about in Bombay's seriously worsening traffic.)

Was there as a volunteer for the Be NetSmart initiative by Google and the Bombay Police's Cyber Crime Cell. Basically, heading from school to school and teaching the kids to be smart and safe and avoid becoming victims of cyber crime. There's loads of press coverage for the project, so read more about it somewhere else.

What I'm writing to say is...

I had a blast. Flew in and out. Checked into the Hilton Towers, in all its glory. Hung around at Marine Drive and met up with long, lost junkie friend. Lounged about in bathtub. Ate with silver cutlery. Adjusted the room temperature and lights and every goddamned thing with a button. Snuggled into the cosiest bed and fluffiest pillow ever. Ate incredibly crisp apples.

The second day, after my work was done, I managed to roam around at Colaba for a bit, drop in at Furtados and buy a lovely Granada acoustic guitar for Agent P, shop for swimming trunks and USB cables, and bubble bath, and also managed to surprise my granny at Colaba with a 400 second visit.

What I didn't do was:
Eat vada pav. Travel by train. Eat chaat. Swim.
Shame.

But the highlight of the trip easily was that I got to meet the boys - Split performed at Hard Rock Cafe on Tuesday, and it was a fabulous evening. The boys, Michelle, Hardik in funky tshirt with inbuilt equalizer, food, free drinks, cameras, and Split Unplugged. What more can a girl possibly want.

The HFC

For those who wanted the phone number of the Hyderabad Film Club, here it is:

Bh.S.S.Prakash Reddy
Secretary
Hyderabad Film Club
304, Padmavathi Mansion
Gayathri Nagar, S.R.Nagar (P.O)
Hyderabad-500 038, India
Mobile: 09391020243


Austrian Film Festival happening, March 9 and 10.

The Small Joy of

finding a hundred rupee note slip out of a washed pair of jeans.

And the infinite options you have of doing whatever you want with it.

Lensbabies

Discovered Lensbabies today. Funky cute little lenses that give a sweeping or blurry effect to your photos. Sometimes fabulously effective, and sometimes not.

Definitely a neat thingy to have around - can have really interesting results and isn't too expensive either. I think I will indulge.