Yesterday I watched a travel show on television where the host(an Indian) travels to Pakistan in search of his dad’s old home. They lived on the other side of the border once; escaped to India a month into the partition- to survive. The host of the show had caught hold of a map of undivided India, and we could see the whole of what once was Punjab. With a simple crease of his nail, he showed us where the international border stands today. Such a simple thing, a curved line. It changed the fate of millions. Tens of thousands were killed. Killed, just because some rich guy in warm clothes sitting on expensive teak in a hill station drew the line on paper. Pakistan, come to think of it, was a part of us once- our brothers; just detached. What caused the hatred were the deaths; and the want to find someone responsible for the deaths- the other country. Even to this day, we hold ‘the other country’ responsible for the tragedy; and vice versa. Who was actually responsible?? Jinnah? ONE SINGLE PERSON?

I am known to be capable of writing round-round, confusing and extremely non-articulate sentences in English language; famous to have the ability to write a thesis for anything, in short. I am trying to not come across as someone to whom not only is the point invisible, but also tries to make it invisible to all. Hehe...Recently I surprised everyone with just four sentences in my thesis synopsis (ironic, is it, now? :)

We keep saying things like ‘You should have value for money’...See now, let’s consider a guy who is earning a lot of money based on his talent and intelligence. Now, if he does spend a fortune on his floaters, why do we look down upon him saying he has no value for money? What does ‘value for money’ imply? Having respect for money? Just because he spends the money, does not mean he has no respect for it. What should ‘respect for money’ imply? Its just that when such a person is viewed with the backdrop of a less fortunate, it seems like a sad story. Somehow the rich chap is turned to the not-so-positive side. I wonder...

I collect all kinds of random, crazy(to the non-creative) stuff all the time. yellow threads, pins with rounded ends, ink pads, metal wires, beads, colourful stones, ribbons, leftover pieces of cloth from my tailor, thermocole balls, needles, clips, pots, wooden handles for bags, shells, carved stamps of wood, sponge, jute threads, etc. When I am buying them, I have no idea where/when/why/how I will be using them. But then, one day dawns when these bits of ‘useless junk’ fit beautifully into an application which has ‘something missing’. Hehe...

I have started looking up universities in India and abroad for further studies. The thing is, I want to end up as a designer, not only an architect- so there are endless things I want to learn. Product, fashion, textile, urban, jewellery, graphic, landscape, interior, management. Hmm...

Getting even a simple thing done from a government facility is such a frustrating experience. More than anything else, the attitude is irritating. The minute you say ‘Govt.’, you know its not going to be easy. The other day my mom and I were in a local bank to draw DDs for my college fee. They flatly refused to do the job saying they were under-staffed. Now who’s problem is that? MINE? Why should I be denied a basic facility because their attitude sucks? When we pleaded with the manager saying it was the question of my studies and that it was urgent, he pounced on us saying everyone here comes with an urgent job. Now how is this my fault? Why is that guy screaming at me?? That’s India. There are two solutions- go the Gandhi way, and shame the guy into doing his work right, or open an account with a private bank. The Gandhian way wastes a lot of your time, but teaches the chap a lesson of a lifetime. Privatization means efficiency, but no one is doing your job fast because they want to, but its all about the money. Humanity is lost; money rules all. Its our choice. I know it- we would all go to the private bank. That’s why we are where we are today.

I love rain. On the way back home in the car yesterday, my eyes suddenly fell on the wipers. They do not have flat edges, but a concave profile. And their locus of movement is also a curve. A 3D curve. Imagine, for all points on the locus of the wiper blade, the curvature of glass has to be constant. That’s crazy meticulous! Are car glasses really designed like that? Maybe the wiper blades have flexible edges.

I am cleaning my room (at least trying to) again. It’s weird, how regularly we have to make efforts to clean the room, while it takes absolutely no effort for it to get dirty in the first place!

Its Saturday morning. Such a good feeling. We’ve started living on weekends. I remember telling smitha once- “Of course it shouldn’t matter if the engagement is on a weekend or not- its an important day in your life, and fixing the date should be more a function of your ease than of the invited guests.” Well, lets just say that things are not so simple anymore. Reminds me of Aurangabad.

Its Lord Krishna time. I have to study his ideologies, study what the ISKCON movement is about- I am designing a temple for ISKCON at kanakpura road, Bangalore. I am sure it will be an extremely interesting experience. While reading about the ISKCON board, I found that most of the top guys there are IITians. Immediately I thought- ‘Che, what a waste of genius..’ But then again, its waste for us. I think for them, its more like ‘being proud to dedicate yourself to the service of humanity..’ Maybe that’s what these Americans think when we Indians return from their top posts to Bharat. We’re proud to receive them; others think it’s a waste of human intelligence- ‘you could have gone places’. Hmm...

I bought a book yesterday- ‘The Social History of Indian Architecture’. Good book, this. It talks about Indian architecture with respect to function rather than style. Style is something everyone talks about. This is the first book of its kind. Rather expensive, though- 995 bucks! I saw another book that I really liked- ‘In style’. Hehe...

One of my ideas that I am proud of is the ‘lalbagh walk’. In a desperate attempt to find a cheap alternative and repetitive destination for catching up with friends, I suggested visiting lalbagh every Sunday morning at 6 30. Kaustubh and I discussed this first, and slowly I made it applicable to the newly found set of mad friends from BMS. They cribbed and cried, but I was what Manasi would call ‘Hitler Rani’(!!). Hehe...Slowly they started turning up- although late every time- but it was awesome fun. We used to pretend that we shed a kilo every week by jogging for a hundred metres. We followed more or less the same route every time- down the main path in the direction of the music- to the glass house- up the hillock- sit down on the stone with the skyline of Bangalore to the right; pretending to take a break from the rigorous workout- and happily walk back to the west gate arguing which cafe to visit for breakfast. We were almost twelve once; was a warm experience. Then most of them left to the US for masters’ degrees. I’d love to go back, but not alone. There has been an attempt, though, to revive the ‘tradition’, but there is no drive. People start giving excuses, and I hate that. Today is one such morning- I am ready to leave home at 6 15 (a little late, I admit), when people started pulling out. Che.

It’s thesis time. They say it is the most important project of your student life. It hasn’t hit me yet, I think. I’m just still unsure, vague, and doubtful. But I am beginning to realize that these thoughts have been in my mind for a long time now. Those of time, and how it effects everything- the idea of evolution with time- and those concerning the most important stamp of a Hindu society- the temple- escaping the fourth dimension still. Why do we build these temples today in hope of equaling them with those in the past? What is a temple of today?

Can a developing city be given architectural direction without being forced upon as law? Can the presence of one building be powerful enough to have following in the city’s smaller architecture? I think it can. Look at Ahmedabad. The staircase of the mill owner’s association is seen all over- it repeats itself in markets, apartments, shopping centres, etc. Its beautiful; makes me smile. Aurangabad. The chaitya arch. I am sure there are more. They give some hope to the city’s individuality in this ‘global’ time. Hmm...Never mind that now..

My brother’s latest craze is writing. He has started writing a blog, and the content is innocently funny. Witty, I could say. Brings out the most visible part of him. He gets around 150 hits everyday. Now that’s awesome. You know, its like this- if you want it done, if you want it to be famous, you have to shout from the roof tops. If you want to be read, you have to advertise. You cannot expect to be noticed if you sit there with what I call ‘modesty’. You cannot just post the url in some shady profile page and expect people to sit up. You have to walk to them. I think I’m not like that. I haven’t asked anybody to read my blog. I have just quietly posted it on my orkut page, and I expect people to miraculously come to know about it, and read it. Somehow I don’t want to be the one millionth person to ask you to “please read my blog”. But then if you want your blog to be read, you actually have to ask people to read it. Advertising. God..

The word file that I am writing this diary in has 36 A4 pages. Phew. I cannot believe I wrote this much. ‘One step at a time’...’बूँद बूँद मिलने से बनता एक दरिया है, बूँद बूँद सागर है, वरना ये सागर कया है. ..’ Maybe I should print this at the end of my life and call it my autobiography. It will be hugely unpopular, I think- endless stories of nothing in particular, written in extremely bad language- ‘pointless wanderings’, as my brother would maybe call it...

to read my brother's blog, click here.

Tomorrow is Nag-Panchami. I don’t know what the exact significance of this festival is- all I know is that its mehendi time! I remember being in Solapur for this festival about ten years back...how much I cried for a bigger mango on my palm! I think I’ve come far now- I draw mehendi on my mom’s hand now- I am the professional. I use cones now; my mom used sticks(parke-kaddi to be precise) then. We used to sit late into the night desperately trying for the mehendi paste to follow the locus created by the stick. Makes me smile.

I like writing in third person. I talk like that, too. Hehe...I love the confused look on the faces opposite mine- talking about the girl next to me, I say directly to her- ‘This girl is driving me crazy!!’ hahaha...fun...

I hate it when people use generic words when asked for an opinion. “What do you think of this design?”—-->“Hmmm...I like it.” Aaargghh. That is the most irritating reply to a question like that. What do you mean, you like it? WHAT about it did you like? I asked you what you thought of it, not if you liked it. Tch tch...

Why does every paragraph, every thought have to have a conclusion? I see that in all thoughts I have penned down, -although digitally- there is always an ending, a conclusion- each one ends with a general question, an analysis, a smile or ‘Hmmm...’. Why? Are we trained to even think in a particular format? See- even this thought seems to have an ending- a philosophical one- throwing a question at humanity! I am unable to finish this paragraph abruptly. There.

I recently finished reading the seventh and final book of the Harry Potter series. I like the way it is woven, but logic falters a bit here and there. My brother thinks the entire concept is very badly thought of. He asked me a simple question- ‘What is the cost of magic?’ Beautiful. Splendid question- the most fundamental flaw I can see. I like reading the books nonetheless; its something else that I read those books for. I wonder if it was my brother’s own question or was it from an article he had read earlier that day. Should one thing, written for one context, be evaluated by another that the thing does not concern?

My volleyball-playing days are over. I feel so sad. Captaining the volleyball team of the best college in the state was the peak of it all, I think. Graduating means saying goodbye to serious sport- practice and tournaments. Kinda depressing. Especially after watching ChakDe India. I cannot imagine how Nutan must be feeling; she was a national level hockey player once. :) I really hope my children love sport as much as my mom and I do- it’s an wonderfully spirited experience- its the best thing that can happen to you at the end of an extremely irritating day with the professors. :)

Why do we all smile while posing for a photograph? Does smiling make everyone look better or what?? Looking good is such an important thing. You cannot escape it. I don’t necessarily mean make-up, but styling, making of a personality. I saw a programme on discovery once- ‘Beautiful people are more easily befriended than others. Children respond better to a good looking person. Beautiful people are more successful than the others. Facts. Hmmm...

I have grown fat. Hehe... I think this is one sentence that has been said most number of times in the history of the language. Or maybe not in the entire history. People were not as obsessed with their weight about a couple of decades ago. This thing of ‘lose weight, keep fit->look good’ mantra is new. :)

My first live project is coming to a close. It’s been one hell of an experience...I’m so lucky to have had this chance at this age. Wow. I cannot explain how it feels to stand under the slab I’ve been imagining all of last year. Cannot explain how it felt to see the first course of the walls being laid. How it feels to give away the thing you have been so attached to, for so long. My first house. My first home. I named it after the lady of the house- it felt so good..Somehow, my parents and relatives do not understand how important this project is to me. My mom does not understand why I visit the site everyday when no work is being done. She doesn’t know why it is so urgent for me to see how much sunlight is being thrown on the floor from the openings. “It’ll be the same amount of light tomorrow also, you can see it then. If it is dark inside, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Leave it, there’s no time now.” I feel so sad that she doesn’t understand the urgency, the obsession...But I guess it’s okay- she’s not an architect herself... I wonder if every architect would feel the same way about his/her project, too.

You should be careful believing people who use superlatives often in their opinions. Everything is either ‘great’, ‘fabulous’, ‘terrible’, or ‘awesome’. How is it even possible?? Are there no grays? When you ask one such dude for a review of a movie, just be sure to dilute everything he says before you believe it. Better still, don’t believe it. I hardly use superlatives.(being on the other end of the spectrum isn’t a good thing, either). Very recently, I used the highest praise English could give me to describe a movie- spectacular. I like the word. It’s like saying ‘period. nothing can get higher.’ :) I am so MAD...

My brother says that unless you write everyday in your blog, no one will return to it. Hmm...maybe. But how do you maintain quality then?

Smitha is in the ‘stripes and stars’ these days, to use Rithvik’s phrase. Rithvik has the most amazing vocabulary. His comments are very, very witty. Difficult it is, to keep up with him. Hehe...and fun, too. I met him online suddenly about a month back, I think...We used to be in the same college bus about 2 years back. The first time I noticed him was when he was sitting next to me with a rather long list of un-pronounceable words alongside with their respective meaning. I gathered that he was trying to learn them. Learn them, like we learn working of generators. This concept was shockingly new to me; GRE was not a concern then. I was a bit taken aback by this nerdy behaviour. And he couldn’t have looked less frustrated with the list, like it were refusing to give in to his mind... Hehe...God, he is crazy. He turned out to be as ‘un-nerdy’ as an intellectual can get. Smart chap. I have caught him actually being ‘sweet’- according to him it’s a unforgivable error. He can be really nice when we wants to, but he stubbornly refuses to learn the word. Maybe not on his list. :) I wonder why everyone is not what we call ‘nice’. How do we define ‘nice’?

Writing can be so relieving. Architect Gurudev Singh once told me- ‘The mind is always bubbling with ideas, and only once that the idea has been penned down will it be able to get over the excitement, and move on to the next.’ So true. Also, unasked-(i wonder if the word exists)- questions in the mind cause endless debates within- with no actual baseline. Sometimes you cannot see beyond what your mind is occupied with. Write it down. Then, you will see. I think the single most powerful sentence I wrote that helped relieve me was this- “What is today? Is it what it has become, or is it what we want it to be?”. This question had been lying in my mind- scattered, vague, without voice and unclear-(also unanswered)- until I finally wrote about the confusion in my mind. I wrote and wrote- about why I keep talking about revival and technology. About why I cannot design in deconstruction. About why I keep romanticizing the past. About what it is that I am struggling with. About what I think of globalization. About why I am a rigid designer. Then, suddenly, I typed it- it was brilliant- I could finally give it the words. Now I know the exact root of my concern- and it has helped me understand my own thoughts better.

I think I am a very difficult person to live with. I am extremely moody, highly emotional and very instinctive. I give my mom a very hard time.

Some really big questions of my life are looming over my head. It’s crunch-time. I cannot believe its time already- it’s time. I feel like I am fooling around still; kilometers away from the step. I don’t want to reach; I don’t want to take it up. It’s close now...maybe I should just jump, give in..

I like it when people use uncommon adjectives. It makes speech so interesting. In the movie Notting Hill, Hugh Grant uses the phrase- ‘spectacularly unfair’. Hehe..I loved that.

I’ve started wearing my watch again. I had stopped wearing it for the last 6 months- just like that. I wanted to understand both sides of the coin- why do some people wear watches and some don’t? the experience was rich; largely uneventful, though- I cannot describe it. But I can distinctly feel the difference in my behaviour when I am and am not wearing a watch. Its not blaring-in-the-face, just subtle. I think everyone should try it- makes a good food for thought!

My internet connection has finally started working again. 3 months, I think- I have been out of connection with the world’s greatest gift of information. (I daresay entertainment, too).

I have noticed that the general standard of the shampoos and conditioners in the country has improved. Everybody has great hair texture these days. Everyone’s hair looks smooth and well kept. Now I remember wondering why people got all kinds of shampoo and conditioner from US as gifts. Hehe..

I had a great time working with Medha and Nischita on the triloka project. It was both a professional and fun experience. The way I feel, talk, and react is different with different sets of people. I would not dream of fooling around with Deepti the way I do with Medha. I cannot imagine seriously designing clothes with Manasa. I cannot imagine meeting up and simply talking to catch up with Varun like I enjoy with Kruthika- we always have to DO something. Very, very different. Yet, I’m more than happy with ALL. It amuses me.