June's been good. Great, intact. No travel fatigue. No nonsense. Wishing the next
two months to be the same.
If wishes were horses...
two months to be the same.
If wishes were horses...
Seven years and having grown three cup sizes later, I went to the Sunday book market at Daryaganj last weekend.
I don't remember why I stopped taking that regular pilgrimage beyond a point. Was it because I was getting groped? Was it because I was pursuing academics diligently or just Harry Potters wouldn't interest me any longer? I can't recall. This Sunday, I gave in to the rusty looking books and the nostalgic trip that defined a cheerful idea of weekends when I was a teen. This trip, however, was solely designed to enjoy the culinary delights that goat's brain could offer.
After having reached at the kilometer long stretch, it took me a minute to take in the scent of books mixed with overcast. Humid day and books all around. My spirits were cheerful enough to last me a walk of back and forth from the point of arrival inspite of not having a single penny or even my phone to capture the beauty of the place.
In many ways, the book market has changed. More than books, there were hawkers selling meme based tshirts, glasses, frames and pyjamas. Old editions of Harry Potters have been replaced by John Grisham. Gratitude to the universe because I was speculating both Potter and Twilight series everywhere. Old and new editions of Lotpot were available- something that is vintage for me. I am not quite fond of the new digital illustrations but it brought a smile on my face. The New Yorkers replaced my only purchase of Teen Vogue this time around but I went back with the satisfaction of knowing that Lodge has found a place at the book bazaar.
One can always have a good day and not have any money if it involves an extremely good looking stranger buying books from the dog eared second hand pile. You know you'll always be indulged in books no matter what state they come in. Reminded me why I should venture out every Sunday and see what the world is up to.
I don't remember why I stopped taking that regular pilgrimage beyond a point. Was it because I was getting groped? Was it because I was pursuing academics diligently or just Harry Potters wouldn't interest me any longer? I can't recall. This Sunday, I gave in to the rusty looking books and the nostalgic trip that defined a cheerful idea of weekends when I was a teen. This trip, however, was solely designed to enjoy the culinary delights that goat's brain could offer.
After having reached at the kilometer long stretch, it took me a minute to take in the scent of books mixed with overcast. Humid day and books all around. My spirits were cheerful enough to last me a walk of back and forth from the point of arrival inspite of not having a single penny or even my phone to capture the beauty of the place.
In many ways, the book market has changed. More than books, there were hawkers selling meme based tshirts, glasses, frames and pyjamas. Old editions of Harry Potters have been replaced by John Grisham. Gratitude to the universe because I was speculating both Potter and Twilight series everywhere. Old and new editions of Lotpot were available- something that is vintage for me. I am not quite fond of the new digital illustrations but it brought a smile on my face. The New Yorkers replaced my only purchase of Teen Vogue this time around but I went back with the satisfaction of knowing that Lodge has found a place at the book bazaar.
One can always have a good day and not have any money if it involves an extremely good looking stranger buying books from the dog eared second hand pile. You know you'll always be indulged in books no matter what state they come in. Reminded me why I should venture out every Sunday and see what the world is up to.
I see myself becoming increasingly like my parents. I never
thought I’d succumb to listening to Bollywood music voluntarily, let alone
downloading it. This summer changed everything.
My internship required me to archive pictures from coffee
table books and the first lot I got was all filed under Bollywood. Naturally,
the interaction was inevitable. After having archived data in the span of one
week, I was smarter than ever. I could distinguish Kishore Kumar from Ashok
Kumar and knew the personal details from Meena Kumari’s life to Rekha’s.
Something else that happened along side was the change in preference of music
at work. I began with several albums- Ornette Coleman’s Free Jazz to the Best
of Bossa and today, the unexpected happened, I compiled a playlist for Guha and
myself on 8tracks.
Don’t get me wrong, I accepted the fact that Bollywood is
the norm in this country several eons ago. I can enjoy jazz at Jazz clubs or
open air fancy establishments with the connoisseurs. With the rest I am
compelled to dance to Favicol Se and other goodies. In the span of this
internship, I’ve developed my own taste in Bollywood music. Let’s say the
earworms of Bollywood. Most of them have only one composer behind this scene-
R.D. Burman.
I was compiling data on Asha Bhosle when I came across R.D.
Burman’s name and I knew I’d found something to fuss over for a while. I spent
the weekend listening to all of Burman’s compositions with Bhosle. I’d hit
gold. It didn’t end there. Out of curiosity, I mentioned this to my Bengali
beach from college who seemed to share the same passion for influence of world
music on Bollywood.
Last night, I sat down and compiled a list of tracks,
downloaded and set them up in a public playlist for BBC and me, the little joys
of working on Excel is that you’re shameless enough to blast whatever you want
to listen to. This post is mostly aimless because my mother called to tell me
how she’s to eat pizza for lunch at her vacation (second!) like It’s a
punishment while I battle scenes of everyone consuming fungi ridden bread at
home. More, later.
Within a week of writing that previous post, I had made up my mind that I was going to settle for nothing less than HTC One. For critics and Android geeks regarded it as the Smartphone of the year and similar titles. Other than that, I was pretty sure that there wouldn't be Samsung or Blackberry and iPhone 5 wasn't worth the tag. The confusion remained pretty much between Lumia 920 and HTC One.
It took me a while to convince my financier (Lordship) to buy me HTC and the day he agreed, turns out that the phone hadn't been launched in India still. This wait lasted till last week of May until the phone was out in Indian markets. Meanwhile, all my conversations were lopsided. People enquired my whereabouts by mediums such as telegram, pigeon and messages written on piggy backs. Dramatic as I am, I even went off Facebook and took a temporary respite from Twitter and receiving calls. Nobody really missed me but people were concerned.
By the time the phone was available again and Lordship was convinced yet again, he was onto a flight to Dubai. Wait lasted another seven days. During that time, I spoke to Man Friday about something and this phone discussion (which by then had become a regular in my life with everyone) was about Lumia's goodness.
Man Friday- ******'s sibling went for Lumia 520. You should really consider 920.
Me- HTC One. I'm convinced.
M.F.- Look, I'm telling you, the Lumia is so good. I've installed it in my HTC, after removing Android. I'm testing this for a while since I've exhausted everything that I could have done with my pre-packaged phone.
Me- Look, I don't want to use Windows 8 phone. It doesn't have an Instagram app.
M.F.- It has Instagrille!
Me- I have people on Instagram.
M.F.- Instagrille is an extension of Instagram with the same features as that. Don't be silly.
Me- I want HTC One.
Next day, out of nowhere, I was granted an actual phone by Lordship. A shiny, new HTC One.
It took me half an hour to set up basics and I was massively impressed with the state of art technology- of the phone largely and of how far we've reached from Blackberry. Although, I'd still say that I'm just using only 20% of my smartphone. Android's completely flexible and yet rigid in it's interface.
(Gave in to peer pressure.Will delete if people from school keep talking like this- "Finallyy!!!!!!! howz u?")
Two days into using with delicate hands and mostly keeping it off limits from everyone (including me), I faced my first problem.
No reception.
A friend complained that he wasn't able to reach my number. Despite turning re-booting it several times, there was no signal and that was odd. My connection has been fairly strong up until the change of phone. After two dozen attempts, I was able to make a call and that caused a butt of few jokes.
It took me a while to convince my financier (Lordship) to buy me HTC and the day he agreed, turns out that the phone hadn't been launched in India still. This wait lasted till last week of May until the phone was out in Indian markets. Meanwhile, all my conversations were lopsided. People enquired my whereabouts by mediums such as telegram, pigeon and messages written on piggy backs. Dramatic as I am, I even went off Facebook and took a temporary respite from Twitter and receiving calls. Nobody really missed me but people were concerned.
By the time the phone was available again and Lordship was convinced yet again, he was onto a flight to Dubai. Wait lasted another seven days. During that time, I spoke to Man Friday about something and this phone discussion (which by then had become a regular in my life with everyone) was about Lumia's goodness.
Man Friday- ******'s sibling went for Lumia 520. You should really consider 920.
Me- HTC One. I'm convinced.
M.F.- Look, I'm telling you, the Lumia is so good. I've installed it in my HTC, after removing Android. I'm testing this for a while since I've exhausted everything that I could have done with my pre-packaged phone.
Me- Look, I don't want to use Windows 8 phone. It doesn't have an Instagram app.
M.F.- It has Instagrille!
Me- I have people on Instagram.
M.F.- Instagrille is an extension of Instagram with the same features as that. Don't be silly.
Me- I want HTC One.
Next day, out of nowhere, I was granted an actual phone by Lordship. A shiny, new HTC One.
It took me half an hour to set up basics and I was massively impressed with the state of art technology- of the phone largely and of how far we've reached from Blackberry. Although, I'd still say that I'm just using only 20% of my smartphone. Android's completely flexible and yet rigid in it's interface.
Two days into using with delicate hands and mostly keeping it off limits from everyone (including me), I faced my first problem.
No reception.
A friend complained that he wasn't able to reach my number. Despite turning re-booting it several times, there was no signal and that was odd. My connection has been fairly strong up until the change of phone. After two dozen attempts, I was able to make a call and that caused a butt of few jokes.
Later that evening, same thing happened again, Man Friday told me he couldn't reach my phone and that was alarming.
"Chinese phones have weddings, not reception. Should've bought Lumia."
Three-four attempts and this comment later, I walked out of my bed and called him from landline only to hear this-
M.F.- Let me say one and thing and don't interrupt me.
Me- Meh.
M.F.- I-told-you-so!
Me- YOU RECOMMENDED ME THIS PHONE!
M.F.-TWO MONTHS AGO. TECHNOLOGY CHANGES EVERY DAY.
ME- SO THIS PHONE CAN'T MAKE OR RECEIVE CALLS BUT ONLY DOES FANCY THINGS? WHAT IF I AM GETTING RAPED? HOW WILL I CALL FOR HELP?
M.F.- SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT A LUMIA. Next time just listen to what I say.
Two posts and 41K later, I get accused of not listening to anyone and also, be denied of a simple function like making a call. It's easier to work with Chinese Fireball. Where is my baby?
SMARTPHONES ARE FUCKING SCAM.
My heart sank when the solutions suggested to fix this problem included:
1) Get a new phone. Nokia Lumia 925.
2) Tie some aluminum foil around the phone for connectivity.
Thankfully,
by next morning, the signal came back in place like a lost puppy.
Asides from being a little skeptic, I was happy once again, in love with
this sleek piece of equipment.
Anyway, the reception problem hasn't repeated itself (till the time of writing the post). I hope to Batman no one has to go through the trouble of finding a new smartphone for themselves. It only comes second to finding a housemaid.
Two packs of strawberry yogurt and two books archived. Good productivity? I think so too. Amongst other things in my life, I am fairly blessed to be working next door to one of India's leading media houses which stands for truth, and fly looking journalist. This afternoon's yogurt run ensured stunning eye contact with the hottest man I've seen this month. As convinced as I am that he works next building, also pretty sure he's married/into his girlfriend of seven years so that ends happiness. Nobody to share my strawberry yogurt with. Extra spoon goes in my work-bag.
A week and a half into internship, I've to say, I'm lucky. Sure, every summer yells "EXCEL" and every summer I eat litchis (100 points to you if you get the reference) but this one's comparatively better. I am working closer to home, they have agreed on stipend, it's mostly interesting work, I get to use a desktop, strawberry yogurt is available 'round the corner, fellow intern isn't competitive.
I should be jumping with joy.
My work is digitizing the pictures from coffee table book this publishing house produces. It's pretty interesting because I'm editing as well as archiving at the same time. Also, so far, not dealing with moronic manuscripts keeping me cheerful. I get well written books, almost to post-produce. I also get offered chocolates and chewing gums, latter is my preference though. The workplace reminds me a lot of my undergradtuate college. Lots of women- good natured and smart. No one yelling, "Ee Ka Hai?" in my face. This place reaffirms my faith in real world.
However, the floor where I am placed is a vehement proof of "Ee Ka Hai?" as reality. I am the second woman on the floor amongst all men. Indian men if I may add. They mostly joke around, talk a little loudly and behave just as most boys in eleventh grade do. Slightly different than Micheal Scott but not Schrute either.
After having discussed internships with different classmates, most of them are cribbing about the bad bosses or hopeless work, I feel slightly better. Other's misery, one's happiness.
It's a little too early to jump in the corner that is allotted to me.
A week and a half into internship, I've to say, I'm lucky. Sure, every summer yells "EXCEL" and every summer I eat litchis (100 points to you if you get the reference) but this one's comparatively better. I am working closer to home, they have agreed on stipend, it's mostly interesting work, I get to use a desktop, strawberry yogurt is available 'round the corner, fellow intern isn't competitive.
I should be jumping with joy.
My work is digitizing the pictures from coffee table book this publishing house produces. It's pretty interesting because I'm editing as well as archiving at the same time. Also, so far, not dealing with moronic manuscripts keeping me cheerful. I get well written books, almost to post-produce. I also get offered chocolates and chewing gums, latter is my preference though. The workplace reminds me a lot of my undergradtuate college. Lots of women- good natured and smart. No one yelling, "Ee Ka Hai?" in my face. This place reaffirms my faith in real world.
However, the floor where I am placed is a vehement proof of "Ee Ka Hai?" as reality. I am the second woman on the floor amongst all men. Indian men if I may add. They mostly joke around, talk a little loudly and behave just as most boys in eleventh grade do. Slightly different than Micheal Scott but not Schrute either.
After having discussed internships with different classmates, most of them are cribbing about the bad bosses or hopeless work, I feel slightly better. Other's misery, one's happiness.
It's a little too early to jump in the corner that is allotted to me.
It's not me but my genetics that's turning me so rotten. I'm pretty sure it's not me, entirely.
One week into work, I'm not sure if I enjoy desk job more or studying Physics or performing on the road for masses.
I need a fucking vacation.
I like my internship.
I also need some lasagna.
To all the people, I am ditching for parties, hang outs, luncheons etc, no hard feelings. I'll crave such invitations when none of them come up on my window. Say three months from now when I'll be hating my college.
Fuck, I'm going to attend college for one last time now. Real life beckons.
Argh. This diet is shit. I am craving pasta and lasagna, also french pepper chips and nachos and dip.
And, french toast.
One week into work, I'm not sure if I enjoy desk job more or studying Physics or performing on the road for masses.
I need a fucking vacation.
I like my internship.
I also need some lasagna.
To all the people, I am ditching for parties, hang outs, luncheons etc, no hard feelings. I'll crave such invitations when none of them come up on my window. Say three months from now when I'll be hating my college.
Fuck, I'm going to attend college for one last time now. Real life beckons.
Argh. This diet is shit. I am craving pasta and lasagna, also french pepper chips and nachos and dip.
And, french toast.
That awkward moment when you run into your 11 grade crush and both of you choose to ignore each other.
Also, that tshirt sucked. Pink was certainly better.
Also, that tshirt sucked. Pink was certainly better.
