April 30, 2009

Random Thursdays

Things that have been running through my head the past few days:

Ding ding! I need to make it out of this alive.

How’s shit working out for you over there?

Girl I’ve been ignored and I am sopping wet. I don’t even know who I am anymore!

‘Dead Confederate’ gives a soul wrenching performance.

Also I can’t be mortal enemies with dogs.

I think I get along with 23 yr olds a little too well.


What Would Elvis Presley Do?

I’m watching ‘Rachel Getting Married’ and eating wedding cake. What u doing?

Love is dead. Marilyn Manson lives, sadly.

Everybody’s so fucking in love with their own traditions.

This thing is starting to get away from us…

This smoked bacon is amazing.

I’ve been pulled into a sticky situation.

I just heard from my archenemy, who was nice, which makes me SO MAD.

I just realized I have a skeleton in my bag I meant to give you.

I’m most fun.

What were her parents even thinking?

Denim skirt and leather boots! Stockings! Wait, no. Black dress and leather boots. And a feather boa. And a cowboy hat! And that glittered tiara! Oh, and a Batman mask.

You’re in an all day montage!

No, you love this. Shut up and go to sleep.

That’s a good start.

Just call me, Eve.

George Michael must have easily had one of the most hyped albums of the 90’s. Whether you hate his guts now, don’t you forget that you more than likely waited around anxiously for that mushy number ‘Careless whisper’ to be played on radio or your friend’s car. To bring you back to 2009 there have been a lot of covers flitting around the internet for the past few years, which I’m sure you’ve heard, and this past month Seether had the good sense to do the above mentioned track justice and to make it sound like it was born in alternative rock.

This track is great and it has very easily made me forget about the original. On that note I guess I shall end this post. Here’s to hoping you enjoy the track below and the long weekend.

As simple as it may seem to sit around spending time with a bunch of friends, it’s rare to find a day that our schedules match. It’s even rarer to hang out with a group of people I can totally feel comfortable with and just talk my heart out, let alone be able to indulge in the pleasure of discussing about music and other random things. To two good friends, who remind me how good it is to laugh, and help me realize that I don’t do it nearly enough anymore.
Pete and Runa!!! Happy Birthday Kids!

April 26, 2009

My day pretty much sucked. Possibly the worst day ever. I had to be at work and in that time I learned a hundred different ways to curse my company. I was really looking forward to getting out of there and going to the nearest polling booth because the whole voting thing was figuring pretty big on my head. And every minute spent at the office made me feel guilty for not thinking about the elections.
Anyways, so after voting at the local police station, I walked out in the best mood, all cheery at strangers and adding a little skip in my step like I was in the opening scene of a friggin musical. I swung around lampposts and little birds helped me put on my stole and a pup carried my bag home. Then all the lights were dimmed and Gene Kelly started singing and I’ve said too much already but it was so wonderful.

Anyway, for those who voted, good job. I want to kiss you all but I shall hold myself back!


It’s the reserved side of my phase and I can’t seem meet new people or go outside without feeling some kind of apprehension. This time, the occasion presented itself and I couldn’t say no.

I force myself to go.

It was raining too violently to be wearing an off-shoulder top and a crocheted overcoat, but nothing could stop me from making it to the club. I keep thinking to myself that at this time on a Friday evening, I’m usually unwinding. Watching a movie, finishing off a post and putting away my worries until Monday. Instead, I’m heading out. For days I’ve been trying to understand about how cluttered I feel. There have been new occurrences, both nice and unpleasant, leaving me with a combination of exhilaration and discontentment. The most I can say is that it makes sense, how I feel and I can map out every sensation to a reason.

We find an auto. In it, I listen to the rain but I can’t get my head in the right space. Nothing fits. I’m not feeling gloomy or glad or cynical or bouncy.

Stepping off the auto, my anxiety begins to suffocate me.

I can’t breathe. Maybe some alcohol will help scarf up my nervousness. We visit a club. I walk out into the open aired area. It’s raining quite lightly now. There’s shelter by the door. The intense cool air sucks the breath out of my lungs. I quickly light up the cigarette to get rid of it.

Minutes pass. Resentment and acceptance fill my heart, the former because of my oversight, the latter because there isn’t anything I can do about it.

The rest of the night was spent club-hopping, gulping alcohol and meeting ten new people. At the end of it, I just wanted to go home and shower.

I go through these phases — wariness and boldness, assurance and doubt for a purpose. As much as I need steadiness in my life, I need uncertainty. As much as I need bliss, I need distress. Otherwise, life would remain inert and there would be really nothing to type about.

And as much as I enjoy the comfort of a clear and simple life, I need to welcome the unexpected, the unease, and take a pass on the club thing.

Incubus’ new release, ‘Love Hurts’ is part of the album ‘Light Grenades’ which is tough to define in words.
In a recent interview with Incubus, Brandon Boyd expressed his thoughts on the song:

“It’s almost a little bit of a cliché. It is talking about the idea of love and find love and having it be purity and having it not be tainted by your misperceptions, misconceptions, expectations and transcending the sort of more worldly aspects of the love experience.”
The band is famously known for their very distinctive sound which is a combination of heavy metal, punk, hip hop, surf rock, post-grunge, progressive, folk, and space rock and grunge with funk, jazz, and psychedelic. To me this band tends to paint extensive soundtracks for rainy days and lazy afternoons spent contemplating life. There is something here that transcends the simple clichés of radio ready music and the single song download. Here is a depth and maturity, patience, not often found.

I understand that not everyone can check every blog every single day; I know I can’t, but hopefully through this track ‘Love hurts’, I’ve found something everyone can enjoy.

And enjoy it you shall. And really, if this track is on a blog you might as well check it out. Cheers!

April 22, 2009

I know as a grown adult it’s absolutely superficial to reveal that I suffer crush-like characteristics because whatever I’m feeling right now translates to ‘Love at first sight’; which according to me is a juvenile-headed passing infatuation, an idiotic or flippant obsession, an unfounded, inexpressible, wild feeling.

Maybe I’m incapable of learning from past mistakes, or I’m a supreme believer of being in love with love itself.

I ‘m still shy and a little self-conscious, when it comes to approaching someone I like. I’ve never matured into the modern woman’s way of asking guys out of, but since college I’ve learned that boys are a good thing. Certainly, men are better.
I would tell myself, “This feeling will go by. This is a part of your life, a silly crush; time or chance will have me come off this.”
And it happened as expected. I would get over it eventually, having talked to myself of such a plan. Then one day, I realized that I was only deceiving myself. It became obvious when I’d think of that someone in the rhythm of every song. It’s amusing to think that with the good judgment a person would’ve achieved with age, I can still be made to feel such a pubescent emotion. I don’t think I expected myself to feel this way again, at this age, not with what I’ve been through.

So I contacted a few friends, got a name of the mysterious Mr. Good Looking and made contact. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise; this one’s been a source of dreamy inspiration as of late. Composing a little note got me all flustered and got to be nothing but a display of ridiculous words. Something that’s funny in observation, but rather maddening in the moment.

To be so distressed this way always takes me by surprise.

And then a simple reply and your heart stops. What a silly thing a crush is.

Every single day that I am at work I find a way to listen to music. Some days I find myself drifting along to whatever 100Hitz The Alternative Rock Station has to offer; other days I browse random websites, myspace pages, and other forms of online media like youtube, and on a few days each month I dive into old albums and songs that I’ve always loved. I love music and I love to hear random tracks, brilliant live covers, and new music from artists that I genuinely appreciate.

There used to be a television series that I was quite addicted to a couple of years ago. It was called ‘One Tree Hill’. Only two seasons were aired in India and let’s face it, which sucks. For those of you who missed it here’s the basic formula of the plot. A bunch of good looking actors and actresses convince you they’re in high school. Once they've succeeded doing that, they suck you into a never ending storyline filled with mysterious histories, more high school drama, and quite a bit of the sex.

Besides that they have a pretty killer soundtrack and a bunch of amazing tracks devoted entirely to each season. I love their albums by the way, and here’s something from Season 5.

I realize that many of you won’t read this post and really don’t give a rats ass about anything. But just in case you are reading this post but too lazy to go to their MySpace page there’s a little player for you weaker minded fiends. Just click on the play button. I have a feeling that everything this band touches is wonderful.

April 20, 2009

The Week I Worked Too Much, Met Someone New and Finally Bought a New Toy

I was starting to become increasingly unavailable for anything fun thanks to my job (which threatens to wipe away all signs of a smile on my face, this will be discussed later), so when my manager at the old office called, inviting me to dinner I did what any rational-minded overworked employee would do- Accept it! My first job was at a radio station and my manager and old friend, Geoffrey, was leaving the station to return home to Chennai. I believed that some good karma had wanted me to take a well-deserved break for putting up with my completely bizarre work so, I decided to go for it and ended the call feeling like no good deed ever went unpunished.

I hurriedly left work on Thursday night, blazed my way home for a quick shower, then met up with a couple of ex-radio jockeys and headed for dinner at Jaymahal Palace. We were at the venue quite early and I figured that I could make better conversation if I filled my shy and nervous body with a few Screwdrivers. The boss wasn’t happy with just seeing me wolfing down a few so he ordered for more and then my mind was filled with animated visions of drinking wildly, saying quaint and humorous things while eating assorted meats and peanuts, and gulping down a strange green welcome drink. During my disoriented state I was interrupted by a guy who had just walked up to the table. Once he sat down, I patiently waited for an introduction but my ex colleague, wanted to tell me something important and before I knew it the introductions were over and welcome drinks were being passed around. Great! I just missed meeting Mr. Good Looking! Weakly, I turned back to my old friend and we continued our conversation.

Every now and then I would steal a glance at him and think that he reminded me of everything good with echoes of 'He's Different'. Ruggedly handsome, broad across the shoulders with a football player's build and even I didn’t need to be sober to dial 1-800-Dial-a-Psychic to tell me that he was breaking my heart into a million little mushies. Where was this guy when I was working at the radio station and actually looking for true love?
Should I give him a smile or walk up to him? He laughs at somebody who just said something funny and I wish I could’ve said something funnier that would get him to laugh like that again. I don't know if that amounts to being childish or just being really hopeless. I drink more greedily and the alcohol works its way into my brain. I’m figuring out our song, that love-dovey mess, ‘I can’t make you love me’. I'll muster up some courage, a piss-pant crybaby who should’ve been voted “Shyest Person" in high school, to tell him how I feel. And we'll run away together, like Bonnie and Clyde, and makeup and breakup, and makeup and breakup until I'm sent to tv soap-opera hell to say cheesy lines like, "Darling, where for art thou?"

For once, the alcohol’s not working in my favour. It’s making me act too withdrawn. I finally give up…I haven’t made any progress and I’m drunk. I can feel the intoxicant coursing through my veins and knew nothing good was going to come of tonight so I decided to leave. My ex-colleagues offered to drop me home and I accepted. I just wanted the dreadful night to end.

Colleague 1: Hey man did you notice the hottie sitting in front of you?
Me: Who didn’t?
Colleague 2: Yeah, he was quite the looker.
Colleague 1: You should’ve made conversation with our side of the table.
Me: Who me?
Colleague 1: Yeah, you!
Me: Why? Did you feel left out? I’m so sorry if I didn’t talk to you. I thought you were busy talking to the other guys at the table so I just kept Colleague 2 busy with my amusing banter.
Colleague 1: Oh, I was busy making conversation. But I just wanted to tell you that you were being checked out by the cutie at the table.
Me: Really!!!???!!!
Colleague: Yeah… but I guess it’s kinda late for you to make any moves.
Me: Thanks!

And I haven’t stopped beating myself up for it, well not after I realized that I cannot always have things going my way with the good men out there, so I’d get myself something looking closer to perfection. That’s what I did on Saturday; I got myself this new baby-
It wasn’t an impulsive buy. No no, I’m not that rich. But it came highly rated and recommended. It seemed not only to be a quality product, but affordable too. Of course, I also spent the extra money for the extended warranty. No matter what type of camera you plan on purchasing, I suggest, from personal experience, that you do the same. Once I purchased the camera, I couldn't wait to take it out of the box. Then, I couldn't wait to take my first picture. The LCD screen size is a 3 inch, which is a little bit larger than most other digital cameras. The buttons are also easy to use; in fact, they are so easy to use that just about anyone can learn to use the camera, in a matter of minutes. Of course, it is also important to concentrate on the additional features. The Kodak Z1015 IS is a 10 Mega Pixel camera. It has an internal memory of 64 MB. The total zoom range for the camera is 75X which includes 15X optical and 5X digital. This is important because I was told that digital cameras, especially if they create larger sized pictures, need to have both a digital zoom and an optical zoom. So, I’ve attached the supplied shoulder strap and voila....I’m ready to go snap away at anything that moves.

I wish I was a bigger fan of Depeche Mode because they are absolutely brilliant. There, I said it. So I thought I’d troll the internet and find a great track by these guys to cheer everyone up in what has become a bit of a rough stretch for the world. Now, it would be best if you simply click on the link below to listen/download this track and ignore what I’m saying. The song is delightful. Wait for it.

April 14, 2009

The Rebel in me

I am the sort of person who is consistently working for the opposition in an expected course of action, view, or habit. For example strict vegetarians make me want to eat raw meat and gun down camels, extremely obsessive correctness of any kind brings out my hidden sarcasm and coldness, and when I observe public displays of affection, my senses tell me to put off dating for eternity.
So what I’m trying to say is this; if you're doing or saying something, and you make it very obvious that you won’t budge or hear out a perspective, then odds are, I will turn it down. And if you’re going to ask me why, well it’s cos life is extra entertaining that way.

I know I’m hardly alone when it comes to rebelling this way and people like us do make up a huge slice of this world….you know the ones I'm talking about, the ones who can never just be of the same opinion with a prevalent and regularly held way of thinking. Someone who insists that David Bowie’s version of ‘Man who sold the world’ was the best version, that Gin Blossoms was better than Matchbox Twenty or Counting Crows, that the answer to "Michael Jackson or Madonna?" is Tears for Fears, that Hendrix’s ‘Bold as Love’ was one of the finest instrumentals to be ever played, that Marvin Gay out-funked Gloria Gaynor or Smokey Robinson, or that Lifehouse is somehow the quintessential alternative band.

I’m not a music contrarian. But in case you meet one, you can bet your lucky dime that their going to be packed with a 10-minute lecture as to why Gary Moore never outperformed Lynyrd Skynyrd.

And what is the reason that you or I or our friends should resort to this need to disagree or play mine-is-better-than-yours? Is it just for the sake of thrusting our opinions, or to emphasize our unique eccentricity? Is it really that important? Are we really that bothered? I think we are very concerned. I think that for folks whose characters and personalities have been shaped by music or art we swear by, we replicate just as easily the next day to people we interact with; by beliefs that make unquestionable significance or make so trivial significance that we venerate them all the more; by those long stretches of time we give to them and by the effort it takes to adopt them, not just for a moment but to be dependent on it for life -- that is not anything you can admit defeat to so effortlessly or willingly. You wrangle with and you go against the standard not just to be an arrogant prick, but to stick up for all that you've held onto over the years…. even if you're absolutely wide of the mark.
In other news, saying that someone sounds a bit like a bunch of other singers might seem a bit like a mash up. True, it reads like Lior Narkis is going to sound like a mass confusion of influences and styles and run on sentences. And while his sound is varied and complex I would never for a second suggest that he is anything less than brilliant. Underrated yes. Conflicted yes. Great musically and lyrically, double yes.

He’s not to be confused with the pop artist who goes by the same name, who is also from Israel and far more famous than he is. What sets him apart other than the genre of music and the distinctive sound; is that he spells superb originality. What he does have is a weight and sound that is captivating. By this track you’ll have already decided that you’re going to listen to the song one more time, maybe more, and you’ll want to understand what he’s talking about because those who hear him want to be a part of something this wonderful.

Here’s the one and only Lior Narkis featuring Sia on this track ‘I’ll forget you’

April 11, 2009

A Day at the Doctor’s

It was that time of year, and I was delaying it. My friends told me their results- high cholesterol, low hemoglobin, poor diet…. So I decided there was going to be no more of that dallying around… it was time for my medical check-up, but making that appointment was so damn hard to do. If you're like me, you'd more willingly do housework than go for a physical. However, if you're like me and in your mid 20s, there's really no reason why you shouldn’t go for one. I was putting off the medical check-up because I hate getting blood tests. Nevertheless, with relation to blood tests, I've made some giant treads in the way I behave when I get them in the past few years. The injections don’t hurt like hell like they used to and I don’t come out of the room wailing, holding my arm to my chest as if I’ve just been beaten to a pulp. And here’s a secret…. Don't look at the needle in your arm. When you're body is being jabbed at, do like me. Turn the other way or shut your eyes tight, call upon god or some mystical force, envision your happy place but don't even get a teensy bit curious and take a small peek. You may see crimson and keel over if you're anything like me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Once that was over I wasn't really relieved because then you’re thinking about the results of the blood test and that’s getting you all paranoid. I have to face reality. In the past year my eating habits were way out of control and I am dreading a bad report. I just know that all the butter I slobber over at lunch won’t be so good for my cholesterol, and maybe for the first time in my life I might be dealing with high blood pressure. Strangely enough, when I was done with the X-Ray, the ECG and the Ultrasound which followed the blood test I felt relieved, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off my mind. Granted, I’m still worried about the problems I could have, but my mind feels so much freer and lighter. Getting myself to the hospital was in a way a blessing because it’s going to straighten me into total commitment to start (as well as stay on) a food plan to live healthy.

I'm writing this to egg you guys on; so just go ahead and make that appointment for your medical checkup. Before my band of fans have a scare, let me hurry and guarantee you that I haven’t had my consultation or any of that scary stuff yet. Next week I shall visit the dietician, physician and gynecologist. My blood pressure is up a bit in anticipation of the news. Hopefully, I won’t be asked to make sacrifices on any of my three favorite food groups - alcohol, chocolate and cheese. If I was ever told to stop stuffing my face with junk food they might as well have thrust the sharpest sword in my side. I’d be nothing but a crushed ruin of my former glory if I have to live a miserable and drab future without red meat, cheesy nothings, screwdrivers and all that stuff that makes life worth living.
There is an eclectic artist – Ben Taylor. He’s rising up and moving in to stay awhile. In an era where so many of today's artists make big entrances and seem to vanish after a couple of songs, it is anticipated by many that Ben Taylor won’t be one of them. This artist creates a tasteful blend of rhythm and lyrics welcomed in an era where originality is rare, highly favored and tirelessly pursued.

On listening to his music I’m instantly drawn to the fact that this man has a contemporary sound with an "old school" feel. Listen and you will be pulled in by the rhythm which seem to throw out any feeling of redundancy. The songs are ingenious and on the ball. The track I’m playing today is titled "Time of the season" and is a bit up-tempo; a little different from the rest of his music… but go ahead take a listen I’m sure you’ll like it!

(EDIT: source for this post's music is Pete. Thanks bro!)

April 09, 2009

A Hairy Story

A couple of months ago, my hair started feeling strange because of the damn summer (Okay, who’s still reading? The men have closed this page by now, certainly).

The back of my neck used to feel undyingly icky. While washing my hair helped to get rid of the feeling, it only seemed to last for a day and then I would go back to feeling like my hair needed to be washed. I thought I needed to go for my office-paid medical check up for fear that this problem might have something to do with my thyroid. But then my family has had no history of thyroid problems so I did away that thought. It could have been just love – it does F’ed up shit to people sometimes, including maybe restricted hair grossness.
Cosmo believes that stress affects your hair. It could be that the events of the last few months are showing in my normally shiny and well behaved locks.

I changed shampoos but it didn’t help. And when all else failed I decided I’d just put a paper bag over my head until summer disappeared. One weekend I got down on my knees and prayed, then went to see my hairdresser and got my hair cropped. I got it looking all spunky and my hair hasn’t felt better! Maybe I should pray more often.

I know, scalp woes are never fun but my hair is my one true beauty, and it was getting precedence above all else because I used to think about it for longer than my usual five minutes a day.

My current hair care regimen:

L’Oreal Shampoo and Conditioner for colored hair (recommended by Ruan)

Livon, detangling hair fluid for towel dry hair then blow-drying, when wearing it straight.

L’Oreal Elvive Leave in conditioner -after shower, when wet, when wearing it curly. (And boy, just typing all of that is a lot of work and I should be paid to endorse this shit.)

Prayer candles

As much as I may deny it my hair involves a lot of high maintenance but it’s worth it to have hair that appears, feels and smells good, and anyways, the entire process still takes less than fifteen minutes.
This might not be a very electrifying post, but I had to update this space, and who doesn’t like a happy ending, right? Okay now let’s never talk about it again.
REM gives significance to the phrase "an oldie, but a goodie." They have great songs and their music is as well-defined and evident as any other great band. If you haven’t listened to a lot of their music, then START! Good news is that they grow on you quite quickly. My favorite track has to be ‘Shiny happy people’ but the track I’ll be playing here today is titled "At My Most Beautiful". It was played in a serial called ‘Smallville’. This simple song is about the innocence of young love. Do give it a good listen.

April 06, 2009

To Runa,

Written on 04 March

Saturday today, and I'm feeling lethargic. Very lethargic. I’ve got bills to pay, friends to meet, a room floor to clean, books that I badly want to read...but I just don't want to budge. I sit by my computer; watch Law & Order Season 8 (P.S. It’s particularly good. Mariska Hargitay is terrific and Chris Meloni is certainly an interesting actor to watch), and read the news.
I dream of running a marathon, but don't do nearly enough exercises to make it through the first five minutes. Not that I would run a marathon even if I were in form. Where does one run a marathon here anyway? Maybe I could go to the store. Maybe I could tear myself from this desk and start with the messy floor and work my way to an appetite.
Maybes. Life today is packed with maybes. What am I going to do? Where will I be one year from now? What will I accomplish a couple of hours from now?

Friday began a little badly. A slight hiccup and tears during the beginning of the day. But never mind, it got better. I had a nice lunch with some of the other colleagues for the first time, as in nice conversation but not so great. Runa’s left the company. She gave in her papers last month and we all knew this was coming but we just didn’t anticipate how much we’d actually miss her.

Later on in the evening, we went to a lounge bar for dinner and a little alcohol therapy. Runa (a very famous name here on my blog) and I have the kind of friendship that endures hurdles. We talk about everything with no unease, no spiritless conversation. Several years ago when I noticed how a few friends of mine had grown distant and ultimately faded away only to hear from them on Christmases and birthdays, in some way I hoped Runa and I would be friends for a very long time, for always. And especially in the last month I kept reminding her that we must never lose touch all the while holding back tears that kept rushing forward. The good person that she is didn't laugh; she saw how serious I was and in her own way told me that I need never worry where she was concerned.

And this is how Friday ended: I lay in bed - very buzzed - opened my mind to those wonderful moments we had shared through college and work, and then let the alcohol do its job. I managed to wake up a little past eleven o'clock on Saturday to wash my face and brush my teeth, and to write this.

Runa, I'm lucky to have a friend like you who cares for me so damn much. You are so beautiful and so full of grace. I don't think I've met anyone as gifted as you, or anyone with such varied interests. All our years together, I've enjoyed talking to you about writing, books, men, music and love. You’ve been a splendid friend - wise beyond your years, kind, thoughtful, and blessed with the ability to converse with just about anyone. Thank you. Not merely for the gift of the years of friendship but also for putting up with me through rolling eyes, flaring tempers and impulsive choices. Thank you for being around when I most needed you.

In the ability of being competent to talk about what interests and inspirations are so clearly evident, I am always trying to keep myself in touch with as much music as possible. There's so much out there, it's enough to get you feeling a bit tense, however, I'm surfing through it one artist at a time.

After waiting for months for this album by James Morisson, I wasn't really sure if I'd want to hear it for concern of understanding that it might not be what I was hoping...which the case wasn’t as this album is something as wonderful and musically clever as his previous albums with the grace just short of a masterpiece. At this point I'd say that what I was looking forward to hear didn’t disappoint at all. There's not a song that obviously stands out apart from the rest and there is also positively not a track that should have been removed. It really is rather a relatively good album, melodically as well as lyrically. I'd like to think that most people like what they listen to because it sincerely calls to them. And this one does to me.

For you, Runa. To this day, I marvel at how our years together made me respect you because you totally defined what a good friend should be like. Love you!

James Morrison with ‘You make it real’

April 01, 2009

Return from Vacationing

It's been two days since I returned from Pondicherry. I've just about finished sorting out my pictures and I’ve buckled down to write a short review of my trip. At least the baggage has been unpacked, though some of the stuff is spread across my room floor. I've also got to clean up the mess I left before I went on my trip, which includes mail, CDs and books.

Of course, the CDs and books should be a pleasure to deal with.

I'm finally home from my awfully splendid adventure in Pondicherry. Frankly, it's rather modest when compared to the journey of travelers I met along the way, but to me, it was more than splendid. I spent a little over three days in a place I'd never been to before; I walked, swam, ate, visited museums, roamed, gossiped, drank, bought books and danced; and I spent a lot of time on my own. I'd never had a journey - physical or emotional - like this one before. There were many things I did that I hadn't done very often, if at all. One of them was studying the place and the people around me and I saw many things I didn't before. It's true; we fail to remember to marvel at ourselves, the living that fills the area between oceans and mountains.

Travel is about taking on new experiences: food you've never eaten, languages you've never spoken, religious and historical stories you've never even heard of. To decline any offer at all — a spontaneous invitation to a rave near the outskirts in Pondicherry, a swig of some wine at the beach — is to deny the very spirit of adventure, and so I declined nothing.

It was hard to leave Pondi and return to B’lore where I need to get back to the old routine. I hardly used the computer during the long weekend; now I'm back to reading the news, blogs and music reviews. But I’m glad I impulsively took off for a holiday. I was thinking about how to fill a void that had been created sometime before. There were things missing in my life, and I needed something really different from my ordinary life. And I got what I needed on this journey. I experienced plenty of lonely, worrying moments, but also discovered much happiness and indulged my curiosity. I knew that my heart had returned to me at last, or perhaps it was that I had returned to it. And I'm glad it happened at the start of summer.

Within walking distance of the Aurobindo Ashram, one of Pondi’s French styled colonies. It's a beautiful pavement you can't quite miss, and it fits so perfectly with the rest of the architecture in this part of the city. When I first saw it, I stopped in my tracks. This was the first stop my traveling companions and I made upon entering the city. I rather wished B’lore could have roads like this.

Travel Tip: Hide money strategically in various places of your bags and in your underwear.
Which has to make you wonder- has all the cash at one point been cleverly concealed in someone's underwear??

The track that I’m playing here today has incidentally been on repeat in my playlist for the past few days. It’s from the soundtrack of “Once”. It's a sad one, and if you've read this blog long enough, you'll know that sad songs are the kind that hit me hardest.

Listen to it here and make of it what you will.

And since I love twist of fate and chance connections, I have to mention that it wasn't until my friend talked about "Once - How often do you find the right person?" and how much he loved it that I decided I should get round to watching it. The movie is set in Dublin and is about two struggling artists, whose performances are passionate and so wonderfully real. The movie is so authentic that it makes the experience of watching it, quite unexpected. It's about that one chance that’s being pushed at you or one that is subtly offered up and is then taken away. Fate is amusing and crazy that way and so songs like these describe it all. It gives a nice tune to something that could possibly be tragic.