Tuesday, August 23, 2011

I live to eat. Justification-

It is disheartening to witness that in five years of blogging, justice hasn’t been done to the one thing I love. Dear reader, paint me as you want post this narration..couldn’t care less. I love food, live to eat and other cliché should conclude this sentence fine.

1) This blogger travelled 60 km in Bengaluru's traffic just to taste what ToI called the perfect coffee in Bangalore. Totally worth it.

2) Post lunch, this blogger managed to polish off 1.5 DBCs at Corner House single handed (frand wanted to THROW AWAY 0.5 DBC! Such a whack this toon had never received).

3) This blogger managed to finish Fresco’s 20 layer cake in under 20 minutes. And was eager for more.

4) One Saturday, this blogger scoured most of North Bengaluru by herself for the perfect bhel puri and found it at her fifth attempt.

5) The quest for the perfect paratha is still on.

6) This blogger found the perfect Butter Masala Dosa before she was born.

7) Cuisines from most parts of the country...conquered.

8) Cuisines from most parts of the world...will be conquered soon.

9) This blogger had Maggi for breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days (nine attempts at preparation) to make the perfect Maggi variant. Mission accomplished.

10) Something similar happened with pasta a week later. Ah..adolescence.

11) A 100gm bar of 70% dark chocolate was subconsciously cleaned in under an hour (that actually aided recovery from minor illness). This was when my family began to suspect I’m crazy.

12) A pound of Hershey’s Mildly Dark vanished without trace in five days. That’s when my family concluded I’m a maniac.

13) Ask this blogger what happened to her thirteenth birthday cake. Ask. Aaaask. :D

14) This blogger’s biography will have a cliché chocoholic related title.

15) Or maybe a caffeine related one. About 400 ml of SSB is ingested on an average day. No addiction. Yet.

16) If you invited me to 'hang out', I probably came there solely for the food.

17) Quest for the perfect Jalebi, Gulab Jamun, Vada Pav and Bakarwadi still on. And I need your help on this one.

Yes, someday I’ll die of a nutrition-related illness..possibly even suffer from diabetes in a few years. Until then, it is ‘all I can eat’. :)

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Ooo. I saw God.

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of visiting the abode of a deity at one of the richest temples in the world. For a self-confessed religious apathetic, this was the first visit to a temple in four years and was more a product of compulsion than free will. However, a minor factor that materialized the journey was indeed free will, although restricted to savouring a certain sweet delicacy the temple gives away, possibly as consolation for having to navigate a mile long maze to catch a glimpse of the deity.


My contingent reached the temple at the crack of dawn. ‘Heh, we’ll beat the queue before it even forms’ was the motive. Sadly, as if to certify India’s upholding of ‘unity in diversity’, several thousand people with the exact motive as my parents’ had already taken their places and there we were, sorry faced, at the far end of the queue. As we inched towards the gold building, I realized the unimaginable: Indians are the most motivated people in the world. The aforementioned citizenry that had thronged a square kilometre space had only one goal that day – get a glimpse of ‘god’. Nothing else mattered. Nobody even bothered to look at the five-hundred year old inscriptions engraved on the temple’s walls, built by an emperor considered among the greatest in Indian history. That the stone temple stood on an entirely stone-based foundation plastered with clay over centuries did not matter to them as did the fact that the food they would later be served is still made from the same recipes the emperor’s cooks used half a millennium ago.


This theory of no-gaze-avert was put to test when the crowd reached the gold-plated architectural marvel. Yours truly overheard discussions revolving around bullion trade and jewellery with miscellaneous entertainment about how many necklaces and bangles could be made with the building’s gold exterior. Again, nobody took a second look at the figurines etched in gold: souvenirs from Hindu mythology that boasts of magical birds, animals and events, all beautifully depicted. But my version of culture shock happened when we were in front of the holy idol. It was a world I had seen only in Discovery’s coverage of the Kumbh Mela – chants, prayers, closed eyes, palms gathered, all with genuine, unshakeable faith. I don’t know if they were repenting for sins, praying in gratitude or seeking the almighty’s help but the faith that was obvious in their intensity of salutation, their desperation to get more than a glimpse of their god, their determination in trying to manage a few more prostrations before being pushed away to make room for more people..was almost like passion, passion I had never felt before, faith that I have never seen nor had in time, people or even in myself. For someone alien to the concept of belief, looking at an idol could never be as meaningfully comprehensible as seeing what it meant for the millions who travelled for days..for that single glimpse of god.


And then surprisingly, it all ended. The tension, the adrenalin they had in front of the deity almost instantly subsided. Theoretically, almost an equal number of people were expected at the Prasadam Counter but I seemed to be among the few lone, obviously exhausted warriors seeking an oasis. With more than sufficient sugary spheres to last the return journey, I exited the oasis in glee.


Back home, nothing had changed. The same people who could grind mountains to dust before the almighty had come back to level zero and went on with their business as usual..daily prayers still being offered, prostrations still made, chants still pursued, finer details of their day still overlooked.


And D.K Bose, still running.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Blogger Clique Theory

The Blogger Clique Theory was proposed by PCH01. It states that bloggers stop blogging when they see their perceived audience (other clique member with Blogging / internetpoints clout) disappearing.

Let A, B, C and D be a group of blogger acquaintances. As long as A, B, C and D mutually interact on a regular basis, there is a constant flow of blog posts on each of their blogs. The moment A, B and C get their offer letter, frequency of respective blog posts wanes and D, with no apparent reason to stop posting stops posting.


Associated dynamics:


• If A, B, C, D are a group of bloggers, their frequency, topic, word play and nature of blogging influence each other. If they are a closely knit group, A, B, C and D will share fundae, playlist, reading list, to read list and so forth.

• If A, B, C are bloggers and D is a non-blogging common acquaintance, D will start blogging within a few months of being acquainted to A, B and C. The quality of D’s blog may be superlatively superior or exceedingly inferior to that of the other three.

• D, from the aforementioned inferior case will tend to up the frequency of blog posts, mostly to appear ‘ishtud blogger type’. D’s blog and Tweet history will then correspond. The service provider hosting several D-rated blogs would then suffer a massive blow in subsequent Google PR allotment parties. However, most Ds start on Blogger which Google already owns, explaining the detritus orbiting as you read this.

• D, from the aforementioned superior case will eventually intimidate A, B and C. There will be blog wars, with areas of contention being number of patrons, fan out of posts, flaw detection and the like. If A, B, C, D have monetized their blogs, SEO wars will be waged to gain traffic and hence AdSense revenue.


The virtual world was free from such bewilderment in circa 2006. But free speech seems to have thrived and none is gladder than I am to witness it.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

ValEd Hour

Recent posts on this blog have lost the vibe of having been born in a shrink's office. It's probably time for such a post.

Passion

Being coerced into doing something one does not like often makes one find other outlets for creativity. In most cases, however, one succumbs to depression and passion ceases to exist. In another world, excelling in something you passionately dislike is the best validation in the world. Speaking of which,

Validation

Apparently, the weak alone seek validation from sources other than themselves. Opinions of other (and permit me to say, lesser) mortals, pleasant or not, are mere strings of words which should not make one feel better or worse at the end of the day.
That, children, is the ideal case. Every night, your last thought is of that event which was not in your favour. And this will go on forever, there’s no fighting the process of validation. The point of this paragraph is that it while it is completely fine to seek validation, what’s not fine is depending on it for a boost of self-esteem.

I am what I am..

..is an excuse egomaniacal souls came up with to ignore criticism. When someone suggests beneficial improvement, give an ear before quoting popular SMS forwards that ask the recipient to perform unmentionable tasks if the sender’s attitude is unacceptable.
‘I am what I am’ is only contextually applicable. One of these contexts is when you are forced to go against your ideals. Google the others and use the line wisely.


Universal Popularity


Won’t happen. I was resented for being a tad more liberal than others in a social group which led to a dramatic story..for another day. This is another context to quote the previous header and strut away to greener pastures. In the absence of such pastures, I do not know how to deal with people who dislike you yet interact with you on a regular basis. You are welcome to suggest ways.


Expectation


Three years of college taught me to not expect even courtesy from most people. Calls went unreturned, as were texts and ‘friendly’ advances. This only added to the humour of character building though, because at the end of three years, people who mattered had always returned love.

...

These are just some things I realized (rather late), which you probably have already. If not, don’t dwell on them. Learn your own lessons.