Race

Sometimes I ask myself why I waste time on things I know are not going to be worth it, especially given my ongoing and endless complaints about the lack of time. I have no excuse, and shall endeavour to cook up none. It was plain boredom that took A and me to the cinema to see this movie. And it was boredom plus a sense of foolishness that accompanied us back home.

Untrue to its name, this one is an absolutely non-racey movie. The first half almost put me to sleep and had it not been for the tasteless popcorn I wouldn't have bothered to stay awake for the second half, which was better than the first half. Better than crap, that is, nowhere near tolerable, or dare I say, good.

As an aside, what is wrong with Akshaye Khanna? Why is he wasting his life doing the same thing over and over again in less than mediocre films? And Anil... why doesn't anyone tell him that one has had enough of his particular brand of middle-of-the-road comedy and that he is much better applying his immense abilities to more meaty roles? Making Anil hold a banana in one hand and have him say a corny line does serious injustice to his talent and to the intelligence of the audience.

Cranford

This is my first interaction with Elizabeth Gaskell and it was a pleasant experience in parts. The work is slow and ends abruptly. The highlight of the book is English domesticity, through wealth and not so much of it. Its a gentle, homely account of a group of spinsters with the hallmarks of the plot being knitting, crochet, lace, scones and the front-runner, afternoon tea. One most endearing paragraph decribes chasing the moving sunlight entering a room from morning till noon, and at the same time shifting the paper on which to sit on the new carpet to keep it from getting soiled. Homeliness at its comforting best in a pleasing, feel good classic.

Another life

There was a time when April felt a long way into the new year. One had to plod through January, followed by February, then March and April was on the other end of that side of the year. Not anymore. The flowers are out, the sun is shining, the leaves are back, and April in all its springtime glory is nearly here.

There has been more action happening in the last couple of weeks than was anticipated. The biggest bit was the holiday over the Easter break. Ever noticed how holidays are somehow more exhausting than regular work days? You need a holiday to de-stress from a holiday.
Like brave tourists, we were determined not to allow rain, hail, snow and extreme wind to spoil our much awaited holiday on the picturesque Isle of Wight. It was four days of fun and games, and before we knew it, we were back on the ferry to the mainland. We are now nursing sore throats, colds and flus with some happy soups and cakes. Never loved the warmth of our small little home better!I am beginning to believe that I am slightly behind life and time. It is taking me a while to get out of the leisurely pace of life of the island and cruise into the focussed charging ahead of London. At this moment I am living two diametrically opposite realities simultaneously in my head. Perhaps I will be better prepared for change next time around, or maybe in another life.

Oxford

Another weekend that went by too quickly. We managed a short trip to Oxford and what a charming town that is! Too short indeed was the trip but a sure teaser that has convinced us that more time needs to be spent in the historical town.

Book vs Ipod

I accepted early on in life that tech-savvy is not an adjective that can be used to describe me. However, I have been taken in by the excitement of the ipod and have spent much time getting my favorite songs into this marvelously mini, magical gadget.

It has not been a happy rendezvous - for the following reasons:

How is one expected to listen to beautiful music and not sing along? I find it extremely difficult to keep myself from singing and swaying to music amidst the grim, stone-faced London commuters.

Music, according to me, is to be enjoyed with people. Or it is to accompany another task. I can hardly remember a moment when I listened to music just for music itself, except for school when life was very different. I find it very difficult now to not be multitasking... Left to music and nothing else, I tend to panic.

You can't lose yourself in the ipod. Its a brilliant piece of equipment but does nothing to transport me to another world - on the contrary, I am constantly worried I will miss some earth shatteringly significant announcement made by the South West trains...

No, its not going to work for me, I know. So, without wasting another day, I dashed out to find the nearest Waterstones outlet near my workplace. And you can imagine my joy when I realised that the largest outlet that the chain has in London is a 10 minutes walk from my office. An unending world of books! Now thats a find I can congratulate myself on!

time

... is an idea. But unlike regular ideas, it is constantly changing. I admire those who are able to shape time to do what they want it to do for them. Because more often than not, I feel like I am a puppet singing and dancing in this drama of time.

Today was supposed to be tough. It was to be a typical monday, full of sulking and irritation. I am relieved that it wasn't like that. But more than relieved, I am astonished. Where did today go? As I happily and somewhat cheerful explored the duties of school governors and how best public policy can contribute to every child's development, I saw my colleagues get up to go for lunch. Was it lunch time already? And where did the afternoon vanish? What is it with time that it just melts into nothingness on one occassion and stretches painfully endlessly on another? Three fairly satisfactory articles were written today but the sense of time almost lost still remains alarmingly intact.

On the way from work to the underground, I dodge tourists and other hurrying commuters alike. During that three minute strategic journey, time is of utmost importance. Its as if every second is like a gong going off in some giant stock taking clock. Its an unending race and A and I often wonder, how do we know if we've won or lost?

Snow

I like Orhan Pamuk because of the sense of realism and fallibility he creates in his books. I read Istanbul last year and felt the huzn he wrote so movingly about. His description of the reflection of the setting sun on the bosphorus is not easy to forget. His first brush with love... you want to love him for what he is - a real life, imperfect, thinking, boy-struggling-to-be-a-man man.

So it is almost expected what he does with the character of Ka. Hopeless, romantic, ex-politicised, introvertish, over-analytical, middle aged, toyed-with-it-all-and-want-the-simplest-thing-now man. Do you have an option but to silently pray for him, inspite of the pending gloom, the all encompassing huzn that is unspoken but clearly everywhere? You hope against hope that Ipek will love him, you will his lies to get him the one chance at happiness you almost want him to deserve. I waited patiently to read at least one of his poems and when the green notebook was lost, I almost felt the loss that Orhan felt.

The dialogues between Ka and Necip about religion are brilliant. Loved the book, all the way through. I am a big fan of Orhan's and can't wait to get my hands on My Name is Red.

lazy sunday

Its yet another lazy sunday at home. The morning began with a pot of lady grey, tickling D to get him out of the bed and a conference around the dining table on the importance (or otherwise) of the institution of marriage. This was entirely unplanned and a rather vigorous mental exercise for a sunday morning.
We have since moved on to other controversial issues. Just saw this week's We the People on NDTV where political correctness within history was being debated. What a touchy bunch of people we are! We take everything to heart and are over sensitive to the mildest of affronts. Clearly, there is too much time on hands that people actually think and worry over the appropriateness of the name of a movie or the publishing of some obscure historian's book. Where is our focus, and is it not time we directed it to more constructive issues?

Looks to me like every political party in India has appointed someone or the other with the title of 'Controversy Originator and Coordinator'. This Mr/Ms COC ensures anything and everything that can be politicised must be afforded the honour. Hence, there is no dearth of masala, and if at any point the COCs fail to deliver, the media is always there to fill in the gaps.
We soon decided that this is too much serious thinking for a lazy sunday. At the micro level, its a warm, dull day, we are planning to watch an old hindi comedy on dvd and the trees outside are still leafless but somehow look happier. An old hindi song is playing in my head...

thoda hai thode ki zaroorat hai

zindagi phir bhi khoobsoorat hai