The Window Seat

DECLARATION

2006-12-23T03:32:00.000+03:00

I believe that there are two ways of looking at life: the pessimists' or optimists' outlook. Now before you cry stereotype here, I must tell you... That's all that there really is to it.

My Hypothesis: Change is something that is inevitable. Whether it is initiation or infliction, it is undoubtedly and ultimately inevitable. I believe that when something changes (or is changed), a pessimist considers it a 'finale'... to whatever. An optimist regards it as a beginning.

I'd go with the optimistic outlook... it's happened too many times until now.

Gender Fender Bender

2006-06-16T11:10:00.000+03:00

If God had willed for women and men to be equal, and at par...

....the 'home-maker' would have been a long-lost phenomenon.

but i still maintain the female is the superior of the sexes! AMEN!

It's the time to Garba...

2005-10-04T13:11:00.000+03:00

Navratri's here!... and that means it's GARBA-time!!

I'm so excited... my first Navratri in Gujarat. Add to it my love for dancing and dressing up: I'm gonna have a BLAST!!

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee......!

Cinema Paradiso

2005-09-26T18:00:00.000+03:00

I saw this movie twice.

No words can express concisely what I feel about the movie as a work of art; for there are far too many emotions intertwined in the story for me to be able to pick out one thread and talk about it.

Sometimes it just makes you think... is blindness just a state of mind?

For those of you who haven't watched the movie, you can know more from here.

Aapka Cast Su Chhe?

2005-09-02T19:42:00.000+03:00

On site visits I usually prefer wearing my jeans with a comfortable t-shirt, my floaters and pull the hair outta my face with a treasured bandanna from the U. S of A. I've decided that might not be a good idea from now. The attire coupled with a digi camera for documentation purposes, plus sketchpad and a zillion different pens and pencils puts me on the 'videshi' league, especially when the site in question is an actual village. Chi-chi has already been termed 'england wala ladka' thanks to his red cap that proclaims 'GREAT BRITAIN' in bold letters, and Coolio's goatee and small eyes have earned him the nickname 'China se aaya ladka'.

Today I happened to spend time in the village walking from chowk to chowk, smiling politely at people who happened to be staring their eyeballs at this foreign looking apparition who haunts their galis (i actually had kids passing by me screaming bhoot! bhoot!!).

At one particular chowk, a bunch of old ladies sitting on their string cots outside of their houses stopped me and asked me something in Gujarati. After I told them my usual line (Mujhe Gujarati nahin aati and all that), they embarked on a conversation about my other classmates who'd also roamed around in the same area.

At one awkward point in the conversation, one old lady remarked, "Aap Hindu to nahin hain naa...?"

Now that put me in a funny position. (For the record people, my pseudonum Zoe Jane is religionless. She believes in the SuperPower, and affixes no names or emotions to it. However, the person behind this pseudonym was born Hindu, and practises the religion only in the form of prayer reciting and temple visiting, and nothing more..) My attire suggested nothing of my so called 'religion'. I don't usually wear a bindi with t-shirts; and the pendant that dangles on my neck carries stones shaped to form a flower. No obvious sign like a Shri Krishna or Ayyappa Swami or a Goddess Lakshmi or Saraswati. Except for the fact that I'd be more at ease in a temple than anything else. My surname might be another give-away. However, it's not too familiar with most non-Keralites. In fact, its so misleading, i've been mistaken for Christian because of my surname!

"Jee nahin.. main to Hindu hi hoon!", I exclaimed. Only to get suspicious looks from top to bottom.

So why does it matter so much? The incident left me wondering whether it really is a good thing or not to roam around with identities of your faith that has been instilled in you only because you are born into it. In the movee Mr. and Mrs. Iyer, Hindu extremists check men for circumcision as a sign of being Muslim, before killing them.

I think it is important in the sense that it gives you an identity to move around with. A sign of uniqueness in a sea of anonymity. But where does that leave place for individual expression?

Your turn, people.

Some People...

2005-08-08T18:07:00.000+03:00

Diu of my class has this wierd habit of telling jokes ekdum ghumaake..

Come wednesday, and we have a presentation for Evolution of Urbanity class; on temple towns. But currently we've been putting in all of our energies into the presentation for design studio also on wednesday. And so, one fine evening @ the canteen, one classmate Chappat is near breathless listing out to Diu what needed to be done for design studio. To which Diu said, "Yaar, Chappat, all that is fine... but you know, my dad doesn't really understand urban design theory..."

It took us three seconds to figure out that was an alternative way of saying "Tho kya Evolution of Urbanity mera baap karega??"

Some people...!

A Whole New World

2005-07-13T16:35:00.000+03:00

It took a while for the fact that I'm a graduate to sink in. Or I should say, it will take a while, because I'm still not used to it.

Now it's being shoved in my face at graduate school where I'm expected to read, write, talk, walk, and maybe even take a leak like a professional.

I miss Chennai :(

I miss my friends with whom I chatted incessantly and and even those I bitched about incessantly. I miss my professors who bogged me down with so much work that I nearly choked under the weight of it all. I miss the hostel, I miss even the baaju-room-waali ladki who used to tick me off with her screaming.

I miss the mess. I never dreamt I'd say that. Eating there in the last two weeks was an absolute nightmare. So we didn't. But now I wish I had. Because this hostel doesn't have a mess. And that is NOT a blessing.

What was it that Gandhi had said? "I used to complain that I had no shoes until I saw a man who had no feet."

Bingo. That was it.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Bambai ki Sair

2005-07-02T22:07:00.000+03:00

This being my first visit to Mumbai since I was trained to consciously observe a city environs (that means ever since I had joined Architecture, hehe), the ghoom-phiring had a different meaning this time. Until now, it meant sit-in-the-car-patiently-and-we'll-get-down-at-a-good-place-to-eat, which usually meant I slept until we reached the sacred destination (read 5-star restaurant).

This time however, I was awake thru most of it, looking around to see the sights of Mumbai. Which reminds me, I dislike the ricks of Mumbai cuz the seats are too high (hmmph) and prevents me from taking a good look on the outside without landing a crick in my neck. Sometimes we even pass by other ricks where I see startled folks wondering why this particular girl insists on craning her neck and looking around.

My dad, having breathed the spirit of the city for 20-odd years of his life, automatically became my tour guide. Till now, my trips had been harmless ones around Andheri, sometimes even Santa Cruz, Khar and (how can I forget?) Bandra. Yesterday, however, we decided to get right into the heart of the city.

I missed the opportunity of travelling in a bus in Mumbai, because as we joined the line at the bus stop, it started to pour. I guess our good luck ran out cuz until now everytime it poured, my dad and I would be safe and dry inside the comforts of some shop or so..!

We ducked into the nearest taxi and drove till the Foutain. Yeah, I know that's expensive, but the ride was pretty much worth it. Mumbai is, no doubt, BIG. I passed by some of the famous buildings, that till now I had seen only on TV or from the color photographs in the library books at college. Kanchenjunga apartments was one. It's a building that is so marvellous in its architectural simplicity, is so trademark of the architect Charles Correa, and yet fits so perfectly in its environs. We've studied such a lot about this particular building, and yet to see it in the 'cement&mortar' (ok, bad replacement for flesh&blood), is a whole new experience.

We finally stopped at Jehangir Art Gallery. I was quite excited at the thought of going into an art gallery, cuz the only ones I've really visited were the tiny ones at Fort Cochin. But first things first.

Lunch.

I was famished and willing to settle for anything really. In my past experiences in Mumbai, eating out other than at a five-star (cleanliness u see) was near suicide as I'd almost always leave the airport on a wheelchair suffering from dehydration and diarhhoea. This time, five-odd years later, with a stomach attuned cuisines ranging from the parotta at kaiyendi-bavans of Tamil Nadu to dahi aur aalu-parathe of roadside stalls at Jaipur, I was ready to tackle it all.

Cafe Samovar at the JAG was the closest we had. And so we went there. The chops I gobbled up were more than what I had expected of the place. My dad ate a humble meal of sarson ka saag with makkai roti. Delicious, either ways :)

The best part about the place was not just how 'quaint' and 'classy' it was for a tiny food joint. In my architectural opinion, anybody who passed out of architecture school mugging the 'holy' books of TSS, Neuferts or even American Graphic Standards would freak. The cafe breaks all possible records of anthropometric (go figure what that actually means, but i can tell you it pertains to human dimensions versus the space that contains it) data to present the smallest ever possible CORRIDOR-restaurant that any architect could ever visualise..!

It made me think: Mumbai is either about being REALLY BIG or really small. From the towering structures all across the bay that defy human scale in itself, you have people clamoring for space in the smallest ever apartments (maybe even jhopadpattis) in the country. Cafe Samovar on the other hand, which is all about being a small place with a big impact.

Or as the famous architect of America, Mies van der Rohe, once said: Less is More.

It's a sad thing about the eviction notice, but I'm sure with the support of biggies like the Bachchans, Shyam Benegal, Charles Correa (and many more whom I can't recall at this point), I'm sure the cafe'll make it past the scare. Not just them, even yours truly and my dad made it to the big board and penned down our feelings about keeping the cafe. :)

For a first time visit though, I was truly floored. I've learnt my first big lesson in architecture- throw away the graphic standards- and listen to collective human emotion for a change.

Bits 'n' Pieces

2005-06-23T18:45:00.000+03:00

I am usually against the idea (for reasons that are better explained in another post), but I just couldn't resist taking another major trip down memory lane.

Saritha came home on Sunday. There used to be a time in school when she would call my younger brother 'Maneater', and they'd fight tooth and nail. We were in 12th standard at the time, and my brother in the 8th.

The first summer after I came home from college I couldn't recognise my own brother. There he was: half-boy, half-man. At least I grew accustomed to his gradual transformation. The last time Saritha saw him he was still very much a boy.

This Sunday when he walked into the room, she let out a gasp. I should've forwarned her. Then again, what was she thinking about a boy of 19? Well, it was fun to watch her expression though, LOL.

The three of us went to Starbucks for coffee, and Saritha (as usual) ate like a bird. And me like a hog. *GRIN* ain't i proud of it? LOL.

It was fun getting back after so many years, and all we did was bitch n gossip. Some things never change :)

Later on, I picked up my diary which I was under the impression that I'd written very little in. But as I turned the pages, I realised there were a lot of pages that I was turning...! It took me back to sweet days of school. But I wouldn't go back. This is my life now. I'm a fresh graduate ready to take on the world.. Well, at least I think I'm ready. I wonder if that comes out of the helpless situation of wanting to turn around and be in the secure surrounds of college again, and not being able to do so...

Like I was saying, I'd never want to go back to school. All that comes to me was the suffocating memories of competition and defeat and pain... but yes, in the end there was victory *BEAM* Nevertheless, life was messy and confusing. It seems much better now. At least I get to kick myself for the mistakes I make, rather than have to feel my parents hands on my hind area. *OUCH* painful, yes.

That reminds me of the time my mom ran after me around my table because I had lost my Hindi workbook : it may sound funny now, but it was very painful and scary then. Imagine an enraged and frustrated mom (I often used to leave my books behind in school) running behind a careless kid with a scale in her hand... at least I was scared...

Then one day I told my mom I was scared of her... that melted her a bit, and I think she felt bad, becuz she was extra nice to me that day. Now that I think about it, I think she must've cried that day. Behind that tough exterior, my mom really is a lamb :) only my friends could only see the lamb :

Ah well, at my age she was getting ready to handle a married life and family and what not. I guess there's a lot more I should be learning from her.

With my dad, it's different. He's the cool guy. But he also makes sure me and my brother have never gotten away with anything. To this day, I guess me and my brother don't drink because our parents have instilled in us the belief that it could be bad if had at a wrong age. But they still do drink LOL... socially though. I'm thankful I never got to see a drunk father.

So at Dubai duty free, while my dad was looking for a good drink to buy, I asked him a bold question,

"Acha, what drink do you think I should start with when I start drinking?"

"Water, perhaps.."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"Well, I'd say wine then.."

"Red or white?"

"That depends on what you're eating.."

"How?"

"Well, if the meat's red, then you have red wine. And if it's white, you have white wine.."

"What if the there's both red and white meat?"

"Then you'll probably have to drink something like Merlo (okay, I'm not sure if this is the right spelling, LOL) that goes with any kind of meat."

And then, for the first time in many years, my dad was my hero again :)

Rendezvous With Zoe Jane

2005-06-11T00:40:00.000+03:00

Five Questions: This is part of a cooooooooooooooooool bloggy game I came across! Allow me to go first...

a) Three things you'd LOVE to do but think are too gross/weird?

Umm... 3? Oh well, here goes:

(i) Pierce my ears three more times (it's already pierced thrice), pierce my nose and wear a slim ring on one nostril, straighten my hair and then color it midnight blue or plum. Only I might not be let in at home...

(ii) Eat sushi. And maybe even frogs legs. Hmmmm... wonder what snake tastes like. I hear it's supposed to be just like chicken. Or did they say that about frogs? (Hey, if the Chinese can do it, why can't I??)

(iii) Rear red bugs / bum chums in my room. I'm really intrigued to know why they stay attached for so long...?

b) You accidentally bump into a sweet ol' granny while rushing down the steps, and as you smile to apologise she lets loose the first string of brilliant curses at ya.. whadya do?

I stay put and let her lash out all the curses she wants to let out on me, looking totally blank, and then tell her the building's on fire and rush down again.

c) Favourite Sun Sign?

Has to be mine :D A Libran is a personification of his/her sun sign: the scales- BALANCED. He/she can be Mr/Ms Popular, and still be a good family person. They make great friends, are rarely judgemental, get along with most of the other sun signs, are the centre of attraction at parties, have a WONDERFUL smile ( :D:D:D ), are also kind, caring and modest (yeah, so I took a detour ONCE, ok?). They may be a little confused, but HEY! nobody's perfect...!

d) Lowest moment (emotionally) in the last one year?

Hmmm.. on a more serious note here. Well, just before I left college, I quarelled with my best friends. For a whole week, I felt sad, angry, depressed, sometimes even guilty. Plus, the thought of leaving college, friends and those memories. You're talking about low? This was rock-bottom...!

e) Tendulkar or Karthikeyan? :D

Neither, really.. but I'll be fair. Karthikeyan, I guess. That's because Tendulkar's married with a kid, and Karthikeyan's first cousin is my junior from college. Well, accessibility is also a criterion...!

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So there we are! That's half the game now. You wanna play? These are the rules:

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying “interview me.”
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person’s will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

And, oh, this interview is brought to you by AJ's Paradoxical Synergy. Thanks, man!

...So whadya think?

Talk About Potpourri...

2005-06-08T11:59:00.000+03:00

I went to a party last night... on an upset stomach. Well, it actually wasn't the kinda 'PARTY' party that I went to... A Bangladeshi guy in my dad's office is leaving for Canada and a few people were called together for a little farewell party before he leaves on the 15th. And so I ended up there as part of my dad's family. Not that I should be complaining, I'm an adult, and I've just graduated. So that makes me eligible to join the working bandwagon, only I choose to study further, for a multitude of reasons that would throw this post off course if I mentioned them.

Back to potpourri, we were one Indian family, one Pakistani couple, one Bangladeshi couple, one American couple, a Chinese one, a Peruvian one, a Romanian one, a Columbian father and son, an English lady, a Russian one, one American and one Egyptian guy... PHEW! The Peruvian lady kept pronouncing my mother's name as something that sounded close to 'liquor' and the Russian woman's accent was something that I just couldn't understand... While it was easy for my mom to make conversation with the other couples, I just tried making polite conversation with everybody. The most enjoyable conversation with this American guy who comes from the same hometown as Frank Lloyd Wright (just go to Google.com today to check out a tribute to him), an architect par excellence in the contemporary world.

There was good Indian food too, but I couldn't eat much cuz of my upset tummy. Jetlag also got the better of me towards the end of the party (I had flown home three days ago) and I said goodbye to everyone from behind half-closed eyes. All-in-all, I don't know really why I called this a party :

And so I have my first post! Comments are invited, I promise my posts'll get more interesting once I'm totally outta the jetlag .... !