More than Susan Boyle

Susan Boyle is the new sensation .. .an incredible performance on 'Britains got talent' .. Sort of the underdog coming victorious .. more than 3 million views. Its a heart rendering performance which made me completely emo :) .  As usual multitude opinions, and because I am too bored to connect them together  I am just going to list them out.

First since I am so much a lyrics person i did look up the song. And it is such a sad song ... I guess some of the tears in  the audience could be attributed to the song. 'I dream a Dream'.

Second the song is from  'Les Miserables'.  Bought back fond memories. No, I have never read the book. Every summer vacation grandpa used to read out bits from classics in his amazing library as bed time stories. 'Les Miserables' soon become a favorite , so much so that I never could read the book.

Third, the prejudice based on looks. And the kindredship we feel when an ugly person makes it. Kind of ironice and yet complimentary isn't it.  

Signing of with the song which could make ne one depressed :) ( ya that was a forced smilie) 

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

கன்னதி

He calls me by this name.

Among other names. But this one is special. 

In a lanuage I understand but vaguely. It is not a traditional nickname. Or atleast not one I have heard before. I can best define it as a combination of two words. But words from which all the nuances have been chopped off. What remains is just the emotion. It starts off with devotion and then suddenly twists into this arrogance which underlies his ownership. 

I wonder if he feels this name is more special than the others. If he realises that this is more than a sweet nothing?

When I hear him say it I realize this is for real. 

Promise. Assurance. Confidence. Tenderness. Maybe even love.

And when he is not around I replay it in my mind , perfecting his tone in my imaginations. 

Again and again. Till I can be almost sure that he is next to me. That I need to but open my eyes to find him. 

Thus hidden in my name there exists the summons to him. And to all the beauty of the future.

Growing up

Long ago I thought I was getting old. 

Too old to have a life without destination. 

Too old to live without cornerstones.

Then I got it all. 

Now I dont want to grow up. 

To exchange dreams for practicalities. 

Or to trade childish tantrums for meaningful conversations.

I thought that love was a fuzzy state of euphoria.

Looks like I am just beginning to learn what it is all about.

So I haven't blogged for a long time. Or orkutted. or facebooked. Or replied to mails. 

Nothing. Nada. 

And you have noticed it. And questioned it. 

Nonchalant replies was all you got. 

How could I explain the urge to hide things. 

To keep them close to my heart. 

For fear that bringing it out in light would maybe ruin its perfection.

The Princess Diary

" heylo ? "

" hallo princess ! "

The word invokes myrid memories.

A childhood belief. Dad tossing me up in the air. Squeals of laughter. ' kanmani '  he calls me. Yes i believe then I am a princess.

Me and my sis . grannys places. cuddled and cozyed up. kumar chitta , sudhi chitta and  kutti chitta at my beck . A child spoilt rotten . Of course I am a princess.

Later, The good student . The obedient kid . Cocooned in my world where i wasnt allowed to cross roads alone.  Princess again.

The bharatnatyam dancer. decked in age old jewellery . the first performance in the temple. proud parents. 

The bookworm. Lost in the fiction I read.  The  world of dreams where all happened as I willed .

My first crush. My best friend.  'So what if u r his  girl friend, I am going to be his friend forever'  . 

College. The attitude that is expected from ' the girl from delhi ' .  

Work. ' Enabling Transformation'.

Masters. perfect gpas. darling friends.

The world is my oyster.  Princess still.

And now ?

can I be the princess you dream of ? Having been a virago for so long , would it be an easy transformation ? To be the slim doe eyed beauty? Polished to turn heads. I have been unkempt hair and loud laughters for too long. And It scares me . More than I could ever tell you . The knowledge that I would have to change. and the fact that you would never know that because seen through the facade i am already there.

" The Virtue of Selfishness "

A few days ago i updated my ' about me ' on a social networking site.
It read
" I swear by my life, and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine. " - John Galt

Objectivism is an easy philosophy to like a difficult one to follow. Its all very trendy to talk about it, and list it in fav books and pretend to be the most independent person around. But deep down i am but a needy girl in pigtails . It would be so easy if i could be the only person who can make me happy or sad . but that state of euphoria is far away. and here i am all lonely wishing i had someone to talk to . wishing i was half as important to ppl as i believe myself to be. wishing dat there were platonic relationships i could expect from.

And so the updated 'about me' reads "If only the answer was 42. "

July 30 2008

Heylo ppl ...


So i remembered.
Random thoughts on what i remember most about the occasion.

The mad mad rush till the very end trying to get everything together.
all sorts of calculations to figure out the perfect (cheapest) travel agent.
Sri lankan ? air india ?
discussions on how to handle the weight issue ( harshas plans of splitting the bag and repacking in newark and i dont know what else).
the magical number 23. having orkut status as i hate 23 * 2
leaving home.
friends in small and big clusters.
family. introductions.
photographs outside the airport.
and then sudden quiet when everything slows down. the instance when we reach the airport.
have said all the important stuff . gone through the mental checklist 500 time. and then there is nothing else.
you know you need to get into the line ( the long long line. ) but oh plz cant this be bit longer.
well but it is just pushing aside the inevitable , maybe i should go i and be done wid it.
finally finally crossing the glass door. the security .
waiting in line looking around and realizing the extent of brain drain .
shiv struggling with his suitcases
trying to get all our luggage through the scanner . small actions of helping each other lift suitcases . and great thoughts about its symbolism.
explaining to the scanning security female : i am going to study , only have rice in it
checkin . holding our breath while they weigh our suitcases.
the mess i made dropping all my papers and passport around . shivs father calming me down.
visitors window. final looks.harsha saying ' can we go in now' . me pretending to be brave ( ? ) .
waiting in bangalore airport hoping that the flight is not yet delayed.
identifying marks on our suitcase : my orange colored ribbons , harshas chalk marks and shivs intel cards.
my harry potter and charu's just bought namesake.
harsha's stories( all of them had multiple female leads) and our first impressions.
the orange ice cream at bombay airport at 5 am.
my ipod . harsha discovering all cool songs i dint know existed on it. me pretending to be nonchalant and all 'of course i listen to dat'.
Playing dc and having everyone in the flight starring at us.
charu guessing movie names as soon as i say 'one word hindi'.
cribbing about air india hostess .The air steward who woke me up for lunch saying 'bacha kuch kha lo'
the sighting of what we shall believe to be Eiffel tower.
the old uncle in the next seat weeping becoz of fever . and all of scared and hoping to help.
reaching newark.
immigration. the guy saying ' oh you are going to state' . i nodding with no idea whats state .
counting baggages.
managing to sneak in baggage into the connecting flight.
charu having to fight it out over what air india claimed was allowed and american said was not.
searching for animesh and being in tears when i couldnt find him.
taking the train the other terminal. not being able to all the baggage into the train ( yes it was again harsha)
eating from dunking donuts for the first time.
stepping into the flight to raleigh which was the smallest aircraft i had ever seen. what they give only peanuts to eat. rude shock after air india i tell you.
the flight circling around raleigh forever to avoid the welcoming thunderstorms.
landing in a really really dead airport. all shops shuttered ??? isnt this supposed to be an airport ??
pick ups and temp accos.
That was the end of one journey.
It had been a wonderful journey since then with you all and the memories are once to cherish forever.


Cheers to the year that has been .
For the year where we achieved some dreams , exchanged some of them for newer versions.
For the year when we learnt life throws a lot of curve balls. High on life nevertheless.
For the year of laughing till we cried and smiling even when sad.
For the year where we gave up the starry eyedness and took on the independence mantle.
For all it taught us, for all it stood for and for all it will bring us.

Still waiting for the return flight,
Lots of love,
Me :)