tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91838646648083756382024-03-13T16:15:17.840+05:30Mindscapeskritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-79350119258015322292013-02-08T14:21:00.002+05:302013-02-08T14:29:35.696+05:30Don't you just hate when you <i>know </i>you should be doing something, but procrastinate until it's a dull though persistent lull at the back of your head saying 'do it, do it, you vile procrastinator?' Well, for the past few weeks (more like months) I've been putting off updating my blog and it's already February. Good God, it is so hard to keep up with time.<br />
<div>
So, getting down to this year then - SHM happened. Refer to the post below for all the details (although it doesn't fully capture the chaos, the food, the fun, the passive smoke and the thrill of a first concert). I now have a new job! It involves what I love namely art, being creative and Biology. Medical illustration is really interesting and is constantly pushing me to step out of my realm of ignorance and embrace softwares like Photoshop and Flash. I've been avoiding Photoshop for the last few years now, almost like a girl would avoid her ex - I'm bloody glad that some God sent force pushed us in the same room together and taught us that it doesn't hurt to be on better terms. I love how I love Photoshop now. Not to mention the additional perks of a Wacom tablet - which just makes digital painting such a thrill. This new place is damn chilled out. No one cares if you semi - stomp in your chair to Markus Schulz or type too loudly. And no one invites you to dumb 'office dos' that you <i>have </i>to go to in order to fit in. I also teach basic English for an hour everyday and it is <i>such </i>a good feeling to be able to make a difference in somebody's life (even if it is as small as getting one's tenses right). </div>
<div>
This year, I hope to do the following (it's still February, never too late to chalk out those resolutions, I reckon?)</div>
<div>
- Declutter. </div>
<div>
- Drive. On the road as opposed to around my building.</div>
<div>
- Push myself to be better at what I do. And master atleast two softwares even if that means learning from tutorials on the internet.</div>
<div>
- Live <i>in</i> the moment.</div>
<div>
- Sell some art.</div>
<div>
- Go to as many music festivals/concerts as I can.</div>
<div>
- Save up for Sea View.</div>
<div>
- Be a better daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-2838591809803863522013-02-07T21:15:00.003+05:302013-02-07T21:20:19.734+05:30Heaven's got a Plan<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;">Off The Bucket List .</span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> We came. We Raved. We Loved. Not so easily! We came to Mumbai, and circumstances didn't allow it. We then headed back home and waited for the longest 2 months of our lives. It was again that time, and 20th January, 2013 was deemed as THE day, in Bangalore. However, our beloved Mafia couldn't make it and it was understood by the fans. The urge to see the Swedish perform superseded all other commitments. They promised us a gig, and they made it the following day. I was unusually ecstatic, earlier that morning. We knew that our wait had counted itself down to only a few hours. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> You are greeted by the 16000+ crowd and it is Ridiculous how awesome it is. It took us a while to exchange our tickets and meet up with a few others, but we got in well before it was time. Tuhin Mehta and Shaan were warming up the crowd, but I tip my hat to Rohit Barker's set. I wasn't going to wait any longer to jump. It was soon time for Swedish House Mafia, and boy did they really make an entrance. The production was OFF THE HOOK. A build up to the curtain drop- Now we see Axwell, Ingrosso and Angelo!! It was all taking place right in front of you! The intro, the lights and the fireworks (,the few whiskies) made for a visual treat. No other artist/group really puts on the kind of a show that SHM did, and we were in awe of the wild 2 hours that had only just begun. 'We came, we raved, we loved' is apparently the opening track which soon mixed into Greyhound, and subtly done so. Their set was filled with explosive tunes! The kind of tracks that would justify being the soundtrack every awesome moment that you experienced. All that one would hope to be included in their set- 'Reload, Calling, Save The World, Don't You Worry child, In My Mind' were striking the right chord with each and everyone of those madsixteenthousandpeople and their remix of Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall never sounded better to me. Although, I can't stop raving about the set-up. Never before had the lights and the fireworks and the sound and the display ( feeling the need to attend another gig) played such a major role. IT WAS CRAZY. The unbelievable kind of crazy. I can only imagine the view from the stage, while those lights shone down upon that insane crowd just dancing away to the beats, embracing all those lights and their three favourite Swedish encircled by their respective 3 dots. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> The best moment would've probably been when Axwell asked everyone to sit down, (although some were glad to just sit on shoulders of their counterparts/others) whilst Don't You Worry Child was playing. '.. See heaven's got a plan for you' and then the drop! AND EVERYBODY JUMPS!! Its insane how everyone jumped in unison- which now leads me to believe that the nearby areas might've felt a tremour. We noticed the Indian flag light up the stage and you could hear the crowd scream and cheer so loud, it would put a plane taking-off to shame.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> The maddening set was coming to an end, and we were only hungry for more. It was great to hear Axwell communicate so much to the crowd. SHM left us to an acoustic version of Save The World that thanked everyone who was a part of the show, and everyone who made it possible. I too, would like to thank Percept and the Sunburn crew for making this happen. Although it soon dawned upon us that this was probably the last time that we would see them, we couldn't believe of the experience we just had. Thus explaining the ambivalence in the area. The walk out seemed like a music festival too , but with much tinier, 4- wheeled stages that didn't want it to be over. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> Turns out heaven did have a plan for us. I have marked 'Attend SHM' off my bucket list. It was all and more than I imagined it to be. It was the experience of a lifetime, and for the truly optimistic- a kickass kick-start to 2013. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;">It was great having you, SHM. Goodbye, and goodluck. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;">We came, We Raved. They Loved.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;">(<b>Written by Kunal Waghray</b>)</span></div>
kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-3784769361730476532012-12-21T14:09:00.000+05:302012-12-21T14:09:14.273+05:30'But right now, these moments are not stories - this is happening. I can see it. Just one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song on that drive with the people who you love the most in this world. And in that moment I swear, we were infinite.'<br />
- Perks of Being a Wallflower.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-61865558878716552742012-10-16T15:28:00.000+05:302012-10-16T15:28:00.021+05:30Sunshine and Frosty Swirls I'm happy when, after a particular chilly day, the sun shines brightly and envelops me in warmth. I'm often mesmerized by how everything appears to glow; how the little specs of dust collide tardily in the ray of sun light that enters the key hole; how sunshine has the power to invigorate you almost immediately (especially after a gloomy/rainy day). I'm happy when I read a novel that makes me cry, laugh and dream. I often jot down quotes and paragraphs that I connect with and when I re-read them, even after months, they speak to me in a way I can't quite describe. I'm happy when I go shopping, and make a bee line for the nearest accessory store, and try on a ring with a big flashy stone and a smooth metal band. I keep little notes, bits of tattered bills; letters; wrapping paper; shells and other novelties of significance. I feel like a hoarder sometimes, stuffing new additions in every crevice of space I find - but then again, I know that on a bad day, nothing will make me happier than looking through those piles of memories. The sight of food makes me happy. I love the recherché combination of fragrance, flavour and a good presentation. Most often, even curd rice fills me with such joy, I start to clap like a seal in a circus or do a quick jig before I start to eat. A family dinner with dogs running around; familiar faces; laughter and a strumming guitar makes me happy. Eating a frosty swirl with my best friend in the auto, while we make a mess of our clothes, makes me happy. A Breaking Bad episode, a movie that stays with me, fruity lip gloss, lace, a cupcake, a painting, a connection with a stranger, a hot cup of tea, a drive on a rainy day, a blog, a story, a date..I truly believe that the little things in life are as meaningful and important as the bigger life changing ones.<br />
<br />
I think as human beings, we inadvertently fantasize about the <i>idea </i>of being happy, when instead, we should be embracing the very moment when we are. For instance, we promptly dismiss fleeting moments of felicity - in the hope that there will be something better, something more worthy of the term 'happiness'. I'd like to quote Orhan Pamuk here, who so beautifully sums up what I want to convey - "In fact no one recognizes the happiest moment of their lives as they are living it. It may well be that, in a moment of joy, one might sincerely believe that they are living that golden instant "now," even having lived such a moment before, but whatever they say, in one part of their hearts they still believe in the certainty of a happier moment to come. Because how could anyone, and particularly anyone who is still young, carry on with the belief that everything could only get worse: If a person is happy enough to think he has reached the happiest moment of his life, he will be hopeful enough to believe his future will be just as beautiful, more so."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-15663413073149761072012-10-11T14:17:00.000+05:302012-10-11T14:17:22.086+05:30We've all heard it before - live in the present, why worry about the future? Seems like a fairly reasonable mantra to live by, right? Wrong. The way I see it, the future is an ubiquitous shadow lurking close by. It peeps at you from behind the nearest alley, constantly reminding you that it is around - watching you, judging your every decision. Eventually when you give up eluding the future, you decide to <i>plan </i>for it instead<i>. </i>Yes, I am one such planner. If you think I'm trying to <i>sell </i>this idea to you, I'm most definitely not. I hate how I constantly worry and dwell on what is to come. On a good day, I am thrilled at the promise and possibilities the future holds. On other days, I fear the change it will necessitate and the disappointment it will bring. Very often, I am vexed by the thought that everything I have done so far will be for nothing. A degree in Mass Media when my passion has always been Art, deciding to stay in a city when I could've been somewhere else, choosing to work instead of travelling the world and going back to college - and most often, this isn't just restricted to my professional decisions but my personal relationships too.<br />
Being at constant battle with yourself is the worst kind of conflict, because you can't shut it out like you can another person. There are no doors you can slam or long drives you can take to get away from it. So, that leaves me with just one option : find a way around it.<br />
Stop planning three years down the line, stop being unsure, stop dwelling and most importantly, stop looking back to scrutinize. While there are hundred things that can go wrong, there are also hundred things that can go right. How's that for a start?kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-20195948416859946982012-10-10T09:31:00.004+05:302012-10-12T16:52:41.308+05:30The Important ThingsI once dated a Writer and<br />
Writers are forgetful,<br />
but they remember everything.<br />
They forget appointments and anniversaries,<br />
but they remember what you wore,<br />
how you smelled,<br />
on your first date...<br />
They remember every story you've ever told them -<br />
like ever,<br />
but forget what you've just said.<br />
They don't remember to water the plants<br />
or take out the thrash,<br />
but they don't forget how<br />
to make you laugh.<br />
<br />
Writers are forgetful<br />
because<br />
they're busy<br />
remembering<br />
the important things.<br />
<br />kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-90704093446833650852012-08-27T19:32:00.001+05:302012-08-27T19:32:32.508+05:30The weather today reminds me of Bombay, which consequently reminds me of one hell of a trip in June.<br />
I've never been a big fan of birthday celebrations, per se. Although even for a non-believer like me, twenty one was a pretty big deal. Which is why we ended up in Bombay. However, now when I look back, it wasn't so much 'Twenty One' that made that trip so incredible, but the people (my cousins and best friends) who were with me that week.<br />
<br />
Our day would start at 11am. We would sleepily find our way to the noisy kitchen, grabbing the first hot and crispy chicken nugget and omelet in our line of sight and quickly sit down to chomp on it before someone asked for a bite (When you live in a house of 8 people, you gotta fight for your right). Reaching a mutual consensus on where to go/what to do for the rest of the day usually took between 60-80 minutes. Getting everyone to go for a bath took another 60-80 minutes. By the time <i>all that </i>was done, each of us had to be ushered towards the front door like a flock of sheep or all the chaos would be for nothing. Everyday it would drizzle while we stuffed our selves in the car, singing Payphone and Feel So Close on top of our voices, as we made our way to some Restaurant to binge and indulge in the joys of unhealthy food - yes, after the lengthy brainstorming session, we would all settle on eating again. Full to the point of collapsing and promising not to eat another meal, us girls would win by popular vote and go shopping. Contrary to popular belief, shopping in Bombay is not dirt cheap. That fantasy you have of breezing your way from shop to shop, buying everything you see, does not <i>actually </i>happen. In fact, a lot of bargaining and stomping leaves you more or less empty handed. Piling ourselves back into the car, we'd go back home, only to freshen up and change into better looking clothes and set out again. The highlight of everybody's night was always 'gyaara bhaje ki bambu' which can be translated (not <i>literally </i>cause that is a bit coarse) to giving someone shit at 11 pm. Somehow, my cousins always made a mock court out of the entire thing and we would always end up laughing till our stomachs hurt whilst the bambu giver and taker would always make up (you aren't getting anything for guessing who <i>they </i>are).<br />
<br />
There is something about waking up to a house full of chattering and familiarly, of people you love and cannot live without - and I don't think there is a worthy replacement or something you can even compare it to. Without taking into consideration the new and exciting city, the yummy food, the long drives on Sea Link, the bloody amazing clubs, the drinking, the cozy Menezes house - it would've still been the best birthday. Ever. Because there isn't a bunch of people I would've rather see than them, on the morning I turned 21 :)kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-25115899195709334432012-08-25T00:00:00.000+05:302012-10-15T15:54:26.454+05:30Saturday MusingsDon't you just hate when the Saturday you were looking forward to so eagerly isn't the Saturday you hoped for? Well, today is just that.<br />
Work has been getting more hectic. I don't have the 'I'm the new girl' excuse to lean back on anymore - there are certain things expected of me and I have to deliver. I try to assimilate as much as I can - and most nights I dream of press releases and instructions. I often look back at my life before my first job and I miss it terribly. But I also know that it is only natural to miss it, as it was the only life I ever knew. Right above my computer, is a piece of paper that reads, 'The starting point of maturity is the realisation that "No one is coming to the rescue." Everything you are or ever will be is entirely up to you'. It's funny how I never noticed it all these years and kind of fitting that I did today. Because I would've never fully understood it if I read it when I was in college. However, now, I know what it's like to wake up and not know what is in store for me. I know what it is like to make decisions that I have to live with. I know that sinking loneliness while I travel back home in a bus full of people. And I know that reassurance that washes over me, when I look at the familiar faces of my family, and how it reminds me that they can't look after me forever - I need to learn to look after myself. And when I'm overcome by this realisation, I <i>know </i>for a fact that this foreign concept of work; independence and learning will slowly start to fit better - like a pair of old jeans you <i>grow </i>comfortable in, with time.<br />
When I look forward to a fun Saturday night with all my heart, I suppose I feel disappointed when it all goes downhill and I'm left with only my thoughts for company. Sometimes, I just want to forget what happens the entire week and dive head first into a good time with people I love. However, that seldom happens and I now see that that is okay, because atleast I get to sort out a few things in my head - leaving it less clouded for next Saturday, or the one after that...kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-15924532212402665612012-08-15T23:03:00.001+05:302012-08-16T10:47:53.057+05:30Take this Waltz? No, thank you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JrIrYBMQ7fI/UCvdCiKXuRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/P4hS63vBIx4/s1600/Take_this_waltz07-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JrIrYBMQ7fI/UCvdCiKXuRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/P4hS63vBIx4/s320/Take_this_waltz07-12.jpg" width="235" /></a></div>
I have been pestering my boyfriend to download 'Take this Waltz' for the last one week. Now that I've just finished watching it, I'm wondering why I even bothered with the persistent reminders in the first place. With no story as such, and eccentric characters, I sat on the edge of my seat...<i>waiting </i>for this movie to end. By 'no story as such', I mean that one can hardly call a woman who is never happy a noteworthy story line. And by eccentric characters (I have nothing against them) I mean that this bunch takes flakey to another level of comprehension - one that you ironically cannot comprehend.<br />
<br />
Okay, so our little confused protagonist Margot is a shifty and strange woman. In fact, she plays this role so well that you feel she has some sort of mental ailment and sympathize with her. She and her husband Lou share a relationship that is not easy to understand either - one minute they are professing their love for each other (I love you so much I want to grind your spleen in a meat grinder) and the next, they're arguing because he never lets her touch him. Daniel, curious #3, has 'fallen' for our slightly harebrained Margot who he meets on a flight and who just happens to be his neighbour (wow, coincidences really know when to make appearances). Feeling unsatisfied with her five year marriage with Lou, she begins to meet Daniel on the sly, asking him 'what would you do to me now?' to which he explains his erotic fantasies in great detail, after which she tells him 'that can never happen, I'm married'. I mean, <i>way</i> to crash a man's hopes Margot. On another occasion, they just jump into a pool and swim around and make bubbles underwater, after which they decide to part ways as Daniel doesn't want to be 'in between' Margot's marriage. At which point, you just have to stand and clap for Daniel, who walks away from his beloved and so graciously moves out of the neighbourhood. However, you are made to abruptly sit down when he sends her a postcard with a date and time to meet him near some lighthouse (some people never give up, do they?) Distraught and desperate, Margo eventually leaves Lou who pathetically lets her go and wallows in pity and acts as if it is <i>his </i>fault for not fixing their marriage earlier. In no time, Margot is in her stalker lover's arms and they show various scenes of love making, and then another woman is added to them (the scenes) and later, another man. Eventually, an insatiable Margo realizes she isn't happy in her current relationship with Daniel either. Here, you are really left to feel like she just <i>needed </i>all that action to realize that she has some deeper issues to sort out.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
The entire message can be summed up in this one dialogue from the movie : 'Life has a gap in it..it just does. You don't go crazy trying to fill it.' - while this makes perfect sense in respect to running off with another man to fulfil the disruption in your other relationships, I only wish the entire thing was relayed to the audience in a more bearable manner.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-52304910123085901062012-07-25T19:22:00.000+05:302012-07-25T19:38:38.072+05:30Nitty-Gritties of the PR world1. Always and I mean always carry a notebook. Nevermind if you have the world's best retention power, you still need to write it down.<br />
<br />
2. Every detail matters.<br />
<br />
3. Listen. Even if you're bored out of your mind. If you don't, be sure it will come back to bite you.<br />
<br />
4. Observe. Not the peeling wall paper or chipped glass desk, but the person talking. The layout of the office, the hierarchy followed, etc.<br />
<br />
5. Be confident and contribute to the conversation. No one likes a mute duck staring at you from the other side of the table.<br />
<br />
6. Don't drool at the sight of food. It's not an endearing quality.<br />
<br />
7. Remember names, positions and publications.<br />
<br />
8. If you're not pushy and persistent, you can be sure your work will not be done.<br />
<br />
9. Be up to date with current issues. From politics, markets and shares to prices of commodities and new ventures.<br />
<br />
10. That thing called comfort zone? Yeah, get out of it.<br />
<br />
11. Don't expect weekdays and holidays and miracles in the form of bandhs.<br />
<br />
12. Deadlines and consequences go hand in hand.<br />
<br />
13. Working under pressure is a part of the job, the sooner you realize that, the better.<br />
<br />
14. Think before you speak.<br />
<br />
15. Your phone must be recharged at all times.<br />
<br />
16. Before getting into a meeting, go over the talk points and agenda in your head. It's good to have all the answers.<br />
<br />
17. Impeccable presentation, formatting and neat documents are important.<br />
<br />
18. The small jobs matter. While you may think it's insignificant and a waste of time, it really isn't.<br />
<br />
19. Good relations means a happy client and a happy agency.<br />
<br />
20. Your client is your baby. You must know them to the point of predictable. And always, always deliver.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-9484532430301368582012-07-23T20:50:00.002+05:302012-07-25T18:26:45.707+05:30Like Crazy<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BrM7mFFTw8s/UA1mRnY3WbI/AAAAAAAAADw/ujEe8ZZ2SM4/s1600/cr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BrM7mFFTw8s/UA1mRnY3WbI/AAAAAAAAADw/ujEe8ZZ2SM4/s320/cr.jpg" width="212" /></a><br />
Like Crazy directed by Drake Doremus is a story about a young couple battling to keep their relationship together while in two different countries. Shot in an unconventional manner with random and abrupt scenes, it tells the heartbreaking story of two lives entwined and yet, detached. I personally loved the way it seemed like the lifespan of their relationship was covered in just ninety minutes. The protagonists Anna and Jacob meet right in the beginning with a huge mug of coffee, whiskey and a connection. It tactfully steers to moments of their relationship, after that initial meeting, as they bask in the beginning of young love - walking wrapped close to each other, the beach, their feet touching. Facing an inevitable parting due to overstaying her visa, Anna goes back to UK and things go downhill from there. The struggle of the characters to live their respective lives while constantly returning to one another is truly moving. What's more is the way their hapless situation results in a drift that you as an audience, wish would never happen. Desperate and frustrated, they get married with the hope that after a six month wait, they will be reunited for good. Unfortunately, the reigns they try to control and told onto tightly, slip from within their grasp once again.<br />
From this articulately depicted film, you are reminded that love is a fragile and complicated feeling. And as much as you hope that they end up together in the end, emerging victorious on the other side - the director craftily leaves that to you, while Anna walks away from Jacob.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-38893086965986201282012-07-21T23:26:00.000+05:302012-07-28T21:53:16.916+05:30You'll need to down a few Cocktails to get through this one!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Cocktail was a disappointing waste of time. I'm sorry, it really was. No doubt it was marketed extremely well, what with the appealing promos and the good looking star cast. The movie on the other hand was predictable to the point of ridiculous. The jokes were far from funny, the story was typical and the acting was a rather rookie affair. Truth be told, I only sat through it because the best friend and I laughed and cussed at all the wrong times (a distraction to be thankful for). Oh but the clothes. Boy, do the clothes deserve a mention! Maybe even a separate place in the credit roll. They were to <i>die</i> for. All in all, the movie was a 2, credit to the good looking cast, cities and parties. And the clothes were a perfect 10.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SZK8MX_GWPc/UArrt_QoAwI/AAAAAAAAADk/vtlzGbOUANE/s1600/COCKKKKKKKTA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SZK8MX_GWPc/UArrt_QoAwI/AAAAAAAAADk/vtlzGbOUANE/s400/COCKKKKKKKTA.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
(Spot on: <a href="http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/spot-the-slut-the-cocktail-test-for-good-girls-378812.html#disqus_thread"><span style="color: lime;">http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/spot-the-slut-the-cocktail-test-for-good-girls-378812.html#disqus_thread</span></a>)kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-38248914881197371782012-07-20T20:44:00.001+05:302012-07-25T18:33:32.941+05:30A dream within a dreamDreamcatchers.<br />
<div>
When I was little I was fascinated by the thingamajig that hung above my bed. Later, I was told that in Native American culture, a dreamcatcher is used as a charm to protect sleeping children from bad dreams. Made of a hoop, with a woven/netted centre and feathers and beads, this ancient symbol always intrigued me. When I was 19, I stumbled upon an artsy sketch of a dreamcatcher and instantly knew it was going to be my tattoo. Today, it is very much a part of who I am. I'd like to think that all things that come my way are filtered in accordance to the age old belief -the bad things getting caught in the net and burning away with the light of day and the good things sliding down the feathers, to be retained. Hence, it is only fitting that it is a part of my blog.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AutFlqnt4KU/UAl1hKLD-0I/AAAAAAAAADQ/519WynSrP3k/s1600/dreamy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AutFlqnt4KU/UAl1hKLD-0I/AAAAAAAAADQ/519WynSrP3k/s320/dreamy.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-47480782296045995802012-07-20T17:42:00.001+05:302012-07-25T18:27:16.761+05:30Cupcakes and Cashmere, anybody?It's a cold and breezy Friday evening, my piping hot chai in the orange ceramic cup is almost done, I can almost hear the drizzle turn heavier and....I'm in the mood to type. So, I shall continue to do so furiously and not stop until my glossy nail paint has chipped off or it's time to go home (which ever comes first).<br />
My current obsession at work is Emily Schuman's blog. Not only is the name (cupcakesandcashmere.com) so luring, but the pictures and content is just brilliant. I dare you to read two posts and stop. No, really! This bloody amazing (for lack of better words) blog has found a permanent place in my sea of tabs and what's more, it is most frequently opened. I literally have to <i>force </i>myself to close it and get back to my daily tasks. To begin with, it's good looking. Simple white background, but still, just good looking. Like an ordinary looking boy who just catches your eye and there's no explaining why. Then there are adroitly taken pictures which make you want to jump right into the frame and lap up all that colour and be a part of that perfect shot. The writing is not elaborate or ostentatious, rather, it allows the pictures to speak. I'm running out of words to explain why I'm hopelessly taken by this blog- probably because it's so well assembled and tasteful and...perfect for any time of the day or night.<br />
So C&C combined with my exhilaration that it is a Friday (yay weekend) has compelled me to come to a decision - my blog is getting a makeover. I think I've over and done with my 'dark' and mournful days. I don't know what it is about being a teenager and living in a big dark hole of self pity. And I suppose, inadvertently, it reflects in your blog layout, the theme, the dark portions with slashing rays of bright light. In short, now that I've bid my teenage years goodbye, it's high time I make this blog a little more aesthetically pleasing. I feel truly sorry for you readers who were sucked into this tenebrous theme. So, while I get on to that, you should go do the needful - go to cupcakesandcashmere.com and share a little of my joy.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-47410108670975489272012-07-17T19:15:00.002+05:302012-07-25T18:29:21.686+05:30<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Getting a job was always of top priority to me. I often underplayed the entire thing because my Mother did her fair share of worrying for me. 'Look at you sleeping, when will you look for a job?' 'How can you be so irresponsible?' A month and a few days later, I'm here. Associate Image Executive in a fairly large and recognized firm. Some days it is so taxing, it takes all the strength I have to hold it together until I get home, after which I let the floodgates open and think 'what have I gotten my self into?'. Other days, I feel the thrill of learning new things, of handling work by myself and being inspired by the momentum which grips the office. I've already acquired a few commendable habits like starting the day with the newspaper (sometimes three) ,eating regular and healthy meals (vegetarian if you may please) and travelling by bus! Independence is a compelling feeling - and it's only pushing me to be stronger. Although this job intimidates me sometimes, I try to reason with myself that it is only human to make mistakes. Having just stepped out of college, this world is overwhelming and tough to adjust with. Nevertheless, as my Father says everyday 'try and do ordinary work with extraordinary effort' - success won't be too far away. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As the rain leaves my window foggy - the sound of it nearly deafening, and m<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">y h</span>ot evening snack of buttered toast is almost ready, somehow, I feel like it will all be okay. </span></div>kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-77699301837067736272012-05-08T10:44:00.002+05:302012-07-25T18:31:08.240+05:30Embracing what mattersToday, at 6 15am, I was angry. As I looked out of the rusted rails of the train window, steadily seething, I could only see red. After a little while, when I was tired of dwelling on things that are not in my control, I <i>actually </i>began to look at the green and brown pass by and I thought back to my 11 day holiday. Compared to my usual summers in Chennai, this was different. I got to spend lots of time with my favourite Aunt. I say favourite because I'm positive there's not another person in the whole world like her. She's knowledgeable about everything. And even if you ask her a question about an unamusing subject like politics, she makes it sound interesting by the <i>way </i>she answers it. Her stories are remarkable. They make you picture everything with details and colour and sounds. I knew my grandparents for a very short while and I mostly remember how old they were, but through her little episodes of their lives and travels, I now feel like I know them a little better-as younger, stronger and active. I laughed at how she described my father's antics, and tried to understand his irrational fears- his childhood. Then there were tales about how my aunts met my uncles, my cousins' growing up, our old house in it's former glory. I was always most keen to hear accounts of my Uncle's life while at sea, his relationship with my beloved Aunt, his caring nature and large heart. She kept him alive through her memories, and in turn, he seemed around us always. Although she complains about being old and tired of life sometimes, for me she will always be the most enlivening and inspiring person.<br />
In the grander scheme of things- a silly wall post, feeling sorry for yourself, looking for something tirelessly and not being able to find it- are all but petty issues. Values, lessons, positivity, strength, being able to learn from someone- things that you can treasure and hold dearly to your heart for a lifetime- these are the things that matter. And this what I have learnt from my Aunt this trip.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-66474006012314313662012-02-24T14:40:00.000+05:302012-02-24T14:40:00.555+05:30'You can seek the advice of others, surround yourself with trusted advisers, but in the end the decision is always yours- and yours alone. And when it's time to act and you're all alone, with your back against the wall, the only voice that matters is the one in your head- the one telling you what you probably already knew. The one that's almost always right.'kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-56546278660388589072012-02-15T23:48:00.000+05:302012-10-15T15:55:45.178+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">The last three days have been painful.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">As always, I have realized the fragility of life yet again. It is not easy. It is not easy to accept that someone you loved so dearly and looked upto as an inspiration, is no longer. Death? It's not easy. Sometimes, when I feel my chest tighten, sadness envelop like a woolly black coat and hot streams run down my face, I wonder if there is any consolation at all? I understand karma and life after death. And I understand that no one can escape the inevitability of our mortal lives- I understand the bigger picture. I ask myself, in spite of knowing all this, how one can cope? How can one learn to </span><i style="line-height: 18px;">overlook </i><span style="line-height: 18px;">a memory, ignore an absence in a family picture or try and forget everything they ever associated that person with? Time, you may say. Time doesn't erase loss. No amount of strength can efface memories. Today, I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can only hope that tomorrow, when grief learns to </span><i style="line-height: 18px;">accept</i><span style="line-height: 18px;">, that tiny speck will show itself.</span></span></div>
kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-1130161141536445772012-02-06T16:37:00.000+05:302012-02-15T23:50:48.722+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When you were little, you always got your way. You cried and promptly came your milk, you threw a fit and everybody surrounded you asking 'what's wrong baby? What do you want?', you were allowed to leave your broccoli if you didn't want it, you were taken to the restaurant of your choice, you got to keep the remote (you even got to pick the movie), your little friend circle always disliked the people you disliked-in short, you did the things <i>you</i> wanted to. You made the decisions. And sometimes you made them for other people as well.<br />
Soon, you grew up. You were admonished for being self centred, you were made to eat your broccoli, you were asked to give other people a chance to pick a movie and everyone formed their own opinions in that same little friend circle. It, of course, took you a while to come to terms with this deviation from what you thought was a way of life. Eventually as you got older, you came to realize that the phrase 'it's my way or the highway' would get you nowhere. However, in spite of being twenty-seemingly reasonable and mature and yada yada- that little adolescent (what with it's timely appearance and all) still has <i>expectations, </i>sometimes<i>. </i>You still like to pick the restaurant even if it's more often than not, you still feel like leaving the broccoli out-for old time's sake, you still expect your friends to side with you even if it isn't their battle to fight and most importantly, you still expect to be understood without having to <i>say </i>it. I say most importantly, because adults have this ostensible notion that saying what you feel is not an option. I don't know if it has to do with the fact that you're afraid of being judged or if in some pathetic way it makes you a lesser person for thinking <i>it</i>. As a subsequent result, you make a little world of your own in that head of yours and you are left to deal with it by yourself. And as if that were not bad enough, you <i>expect </i>to be understood and have the gall to be upset when you're not. I think what I'm trying to say is that- even as adults who are required to be level-headed, free of insecurities and selfless- that little child in us will always be just that- a child.</div>kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-57660298525416353352012-01-26T19:28:00.000+05:302012-01-26T19:34:26.062+05:30India to me, is a lot of things. Everything about it's history, culture and diversity intrigues me. So much so that, I feel such pride to be part of the soil of a land so extraordinary.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The other day, I was on my terrace for Sankranti. The sky was dotted with millions of kites, fluttering in the wind. It was overwhelming how effortlessly they floated so high up- colourful and mesmerising. Every terrace was occupied by excited people, string a<span style="font-family: inherit;">nd smiles. I felt such happiness, just watching all these kites fly in unison.<i> Unison</i>. That's the only word I thought of. The coming together of so many strangers, all reveling in the simple joy of a festival- irrespective of caste, creed and religion- is probably my favourite bit about India. Whether it is the festival of Holi, where the city is painted with all sorts of colours- almost like a </span>canvas that the entire nation paints on- and people await the coming of Spring with excitement. Or the festival of lights where an array of tiny flames flicker and crackers illuminate the dark sky. <span style="font-family: inherit;">Or Ganesh Chaturthi, where idols of Lord Ganesh adorn every street and are </span>eventually<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span>immersed in water, while hundreds gather and watch them float away slowly- some dissolving and some gently drifting to the bottom. Or Raksha Bandhan, where all around the country, the brother-sister relationship is celebrated. Every one of these festivals miraculously bring so many together, it is truly remarkable.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Tomorrow if life takes me to another country, <i>this </i>is going to be one of the many-but most essential- memories I will hold onto dearly. Because it's not everyday that you feel one with an entire nation.</div>kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-40054897669611181972011-12-25T23:38:00.002+05:302011-12-26T10:38:36.787+05:30This Christmas eve/Christmas was <i>quite </i>different from last year. The former was spent at my best friend's brother's reception. Indian clothes (sarees to be exact), vegetarian food and no alcohol. However, wait for it, it was<i> fun.</i> Also, I can safely conclude that I can dance to Bollywood music (somewhat) sober. And 'Subha Hone Na De'! I cannot stop humming it. Christmas last year was Fipi with Bollywood music and a new face I was kind of warming up to. This year, that face (not new anymore) and I went on a cute dinner date and ate till we couldn't breathe. Oh, and these people singing carols saw me get excited and clap like a seal and came and sang at our table. That was really funny. Thennn we went 10D and I ogled at the pretty wreaths, bells, glittery hangings etc.<br />
Other than the absence of a larger than life Christmas tree, it was all perfect.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-13202970275210970772011-12-15T19:39:00.002+05:302011-12-15T19:39:39.039+05:30Trust my horoscope to be <i>this</i> apt.<br />
<br />
Where's your holiday spirit, Gemini? Aren't you looking forward to a joyful December and a Happy New Year? If you're feeling disillusioned because you aren't where you thought you'd be this holiday season, you're certainly not alone. But instead of finding lots of reasons for feeling down, try to find a way to pull yourself out of the doldrums and enjoy this magical time of the year. If you concentrate on finding happiness, you will certainly find it. There is still time to perk up your attitude and get everything you want for Christmas.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-15972814072093304942011-12-14T23:10:00.003+05:302011-12-14T23:10:31.465+05:30I don't know <i>what </i>my problem is.<br />
I can't figure out if it's to do with the fact that I'm tired all the time, or if its to do with how I am being labeled 'Ethiopian malnourished child' (yes, really) and actually feeling it to quite an alarming extent, or because I have been watching an overdose of Breaking Bad and can't see even <i>with </i>my glasses/lenses (hence, the world seems fuzzy), or because the trip I had to literally <i>beg </i>(for months)<i> </i>to get permission for might actually not be happening. Whatever is it though, it's turning me into a Grinch of sorts. One that is feeling all anti-holiday-ey. And devious. Not to mention how I'd sail through to first position, rather effortlessly, and get the gold medal+other goodies for being Miss Snappy.<br />
All in all, December is not looking promising. And that's just such a waste of an exciting month.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-33644561965676279292011-12-11T14:10:00.001+05:302011-12-11T14:35:40.143+05:30December is here.<br />
Although, it doesn't <i>feel </i>like it yet. Needless to say, it's my favorite month. For one there is Christmas- Carols, Ginger bread cookies, Christmas trees with shiny and frosted thingamajigs, the snow (for those who are lucky enough), oh and the wine, how could I forget? Then there is New Years Eve (which is a movie too, I hear) and the fact that another year is coming to an end. Usually, I look forward to a new year, however this time it just means '2012' is a day closer. To say it more simply, I do not wish to die in some huge 'end of the world' massacre. Anyway, before I kill the festive spirit, I will go on. In addition to all this, there is a Wedding (December weddings are the best. I'm going to have one myself). And it's in Bombay. And I'm going to dance at another Sangeet! Then there is the 23rd. The night that came and made my whole year. Annnd, the cherry on the cake, Goaaaa.<br />
What with all of the above, beats me how it doesn't <i>feel </i>December-ish yet.kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9183864664808375638.post-12475184820255253172011-11-19T18:02:00.001+05:302011-11-19T18:10:19.937+05:30'I had a terrible day'- we say it all the time. A fight with the boss, a stomach flu, traffic- that's what we describe as terrible, when nothing terrible is happening. These are the things we beg for- a root canal, an I.R.S.audit, coffee spilled on our clothes. When the really terrible things happen we start begging to the God we don't believe in to bring back the little horrors and take away this. It seems quaint now doesn't it? The flood in the kitchen, the poison oak, the fight that leaves you shaking with rage. Would it have helped if we could see what else was coming? Would we have known those were the best moments of our life?<br />
-Grey's Anatomy.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></span>kritihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10837609027097583566noreply@blogger.com0