Excuse Me, Mister Executive.

Excuse me, Marketer in Charge of Naming Things, why did you name it a Laptop when it clearly isn't intended to sit on top of your lap? They heat up, so that on a summer day you feel like your hands might end up like a melted mess on the keyboard. And they're not too easy on the legs either- who came up with the idea of placing a flat hard surface with significant weight on top of flesh? Hm? And what about Laptops and their sperm-icide tendencies? Misnaming could be resulting in a serious drop of new population. Do these things come with a warning?

My friend points out no one calls them Laptops these days. They're Notebooks now.

No. They're laptops. Its like when you name someone Cocotrixibelle and then they change it to Jane after 15 years. Yeah, I'm remembering you with the first name attached for a long, long time, at least to myself.

The Ugly Truth

Today headed to Boston for a special someone's birthday, fully intending on seeing 500 Days of Summer, but as luck would have it the Green Line sucked and was backed up and we got off at the wrong stop anyway and missed the first 30 minutes. So, what to do? Watch another movie, of course!

We ended up watching The Ugly Truth, and I have to say, it was actually very good. Its rated R, so as per usual I got carded before being allowed to purchase the movie ticket (sad story of my life). We went in, not expecting much other than the usual laughs of a romantic comedy, but I have to say, this was pretty hilarious. Without giving too much away: Idealistic producer of a Sacramento morning news show (Katherine Heigl) meets the guy who tells men and women how it really is (Gerard Butler), which is the Ugly Truth about relationships. The acting was well done and comedic, the lines were hilarious, and several scenes had the entire theater in stitches. I'd recommend watching it, but don't go with your mom.

My rating:

Six Weeks, Six Outfits, and a Goodbye

Well, this is it. Six weeks have gone by like the snap of a finger, and here I am, sitting in good old Chennai at 2:02 PM IST, unsure of exactly what to write. You see, this particular post feels like a goodbye to India kind of a post. And there is so much I would like to say to justify a proper ending remark to such an amazing trip, but I can't exactly write a novel (maybe someday, hmm...)

When I was packing for India eons ago, I decided to be a minimalist. My mother would dump clothes into my big silver bag, and I would dump them right back out. Shoes? Nah. I'm glad I had the foresight to cut down on my luggage, because traveling with so much, in cars, planes, trains (and the occasional autorickshaw, scooter, motorbike...) can become a very big hassle.

And so, I ended up with six outfits. I had three pairs of jeans, one capri, one pair of black pants, six shirts, and one pair of flip flops. It seems like a lot of clothes, but over the course of six weeks, it seemed like a very boring wardrobe indeed. Me, the one with the overflowing wardrobe, only appear in photographs with six outfits over a whole trip? Well, ladies and gentlemen, it has been done! (Ok, ok, so I bought a shirt and dress along the way... still!) It may seem silly, but for me it feels like a lesson, that you don't need so many material things to have a good time. I completely forgot my lack of clothes until today, because I have been so busy with friends and family, enjoying life. It didn't matter whether I had the newest clothes, bags, hair... no one really gives a shit about fashion, as long as you put yourself together nicely. Its great.

This trip has been quite the experience. I've gained a greater appreciation for family. The thing I love most about India is the importance given to family. No matter how far flung members might be, family is family and is treated with the utmost reverence. You are loved unconditionally, and are lovingly told how to change your faults. From grandma all the way down to the nieces and nephews, everyone's connected and connecting all the time, via visits, phones, etc. I spent 11 days with my cousins on my mom's side in this vacation spot on a mountain called Kodaikannal, and after everyone went home I feel really lonely. Big families are an amazing thing to have, and I'm sad a large part of mine happens to be 10,000 miles away.

So now here I sit, typing away in the 94.5 degree heat. My bags are packed, my tickets ready, and I'm all set to fly back to Boston. I still look the same, except browner and well-fed. But I've changed, because I've found my roots. Whether there really is self-realization or not, I know I've realized at least a part of myself during these six weeks.

And with that, Namaste/Avjo/Goodbye, India... but not forever.

Shiny Things

Today, I went to my uncle's office. My cousin counted, weighed, and inspected diamonds. Then, I would pick up the diamonds with a precision tweezer-like instrument and stare at them through a jewel-glass (like a magnifying glass, except more expensive.) Later my uncle asked me if I wanted a biscuit, and when I nodded, he handed me a bar of gold. That's one very expensive biscuit, if you ask me. It was a heavy bar of gold, truly shaped like a rectangular tea biscuit, engraved with the company's name. It was 500 grams of gold, and is worth approximately $3000. It was shiny. It looks something like this picture I found on Google (I was too busy processing the fact that I was holding the gold to take a picture at the time!):

Everyone likes shiny things, whether they admit it or not. There is something about them that makes you look twice. Light reflected off of tinfoil is the kind of shine you do not think twice about. But when light simultaneously hits thirty-something diamonds scattered around a velvet tray, its brilliance can momentarily blind you. There must be a very solid reason diamonds and other rare gems have been coveted for thousands of years. It is not some clever marketing ploy started by ancient jewelers. As was the case back in the day, if a piece of jewelry is truly made well, it will sell itself.

The most common diamond cuts:

My favorite cut is the princess cut, which make excellent solitaires. However, today I ended up buying a ring in 18k gold with two round-cut diamonds on it. It is very simple looking, but lovely all the same:

What do you think of the ring?

I Want Taco Bell!

Honestly, the title has nothing to do with anything, except that I really want some taco bell. It was around 1 AM, my cousins/cousins-of-cousins/etc. were all sitting around in a circle playing a brainless game of Mafia, and then someone brought up taco bell. I would like a Mexican Pizza sans beef and a 7-Layer Burrito and a Fanta. With Fire Sauce. Obviously.

I went to a wedding, by the way. It was in Agra (where the Taj Mahal is) and was a pretty extravagant affair. There's much I have to say about the whole week of festivities, but that must be saved for another, later post, when I can upload the pictures to go along with what I have to say. All I have to say though is that, dear God do people at weddings know how to forcefeed you!

Onto a more serious note: A few days ago, I was in Bombay. Interestingly, the view from the window of the apartment I was in looks like something out of Slumdog Millionaire. It is interesting how you can be in such a nice setting and literally 100 feet away theres a slum. Its like this duality of universes, in the sense that they're so close to each other but never touching. They may be so close physically, but the people of both worlds are lightyears apart.


One thing I have learned in India is that you have to close off your emotions a little when it comes to homeless people. If you don't, you'll feel sad every second of the day. People in India will generally not give any money to the poor, because unfortunately most of the times they end up in the wrong hands at the end of the day. Also, if you do give some money to one beggar, another will come up, then another, and after a while it is absolutely overwhelming because you'd like to help them all but you can't.

Instead, I've noticed that the day's leftovers and the likes are distributed to the poor. That way, they receive something that can actually benefit them (money benefits them too, obviously, but the problem is that they don't get to keep the money, usually a criminal type collects it from them at the end of the day.) But every time you see a little malnutritioned child with that sad look in their eyes and their hand outstretched, theres a little sound of shattering something and that's just a little piece of your heart that broke off and fell onto the concrete. At least that's what it feels like.

So I have this idea. If every person in India who was financially capable gave away one apple (or banana, or another filling food) per day, that's 365 stomachs they have helped in a year. There are one billion people living in India, and when half of them each help one person a day, that could amount to something great. Perhaps.