Every second person I meet in Bangalore is a software engineer. Softie, to be precise. :)

I wonder who invented the concept of ‘mass-bunk’. It’s awesome! Hehe...it’s the biggest and most relieving escapist activity EVER. We’re ALL looking to escape, aren’t we? Why is it always easier to do the wrong thing? Why is it always difficult to do the right thing? Why does it need courage to stand up for what is right? If it were simpler to do the right thing, no one would do the wrong thing in the first place! Imagine- it would be a nice, warm world...

Development of design intent into the architectural form is one big roller coaster ride. Somehow, all through the past few years, I have not been able to categorize or tabulate; there is no one ‘certain path’. Somehow, every project offers different sets of variables- time, mood, friends, weather, pressure, expectation, and help. For every new set of combination, a new process seems to have dawned. Maybe it will stabilize once I start working with a certain fixed set of people.

I love drawing architectural sections. I (more often than not) start arriving at my built form through sections. Its fun, and somehow the whole site is not stuffed in your face. You’re taking one plane at a time, and simplifying the issue; seems more effective to me.

“The worst thing you could say about an architect is that he/she is not well read.”

Diwali is here. I am slowly beginning to realize that good times don’t just happen- you have to make them happen- you have to take initiative; you have to make it a big deal.

Kunal kapoor deals with instant celebrity status by constantly telling himself- “It’s not you, but the people around you that have changed.”

My next design review is on 30 th. They gave us a list of ‘requirements’- Seemed like they wanted us to have everything- the entire design finalized, thought over, and drawn. What is the point of the review? Maybe later they will expect a different level of detail, I guess.

I think that of all the time we have spent in college, this semester has been the best. Of course there are the weekly doses of ‘pep talk’, but then we know its all in our best interest; only we are a bit mad...This, does not, however deter the feeling of coming to college only twice a week- and it feels so good that we come to college for some serious, directional work. We are not made to come to college and attend lectures that don’t matter much, or those we can’t resist sleep in- we actually come to college with a certain agenda- a discussion- and we all know we need it. It’s nice NOT to be worrying about the ACM drafting class after the design studio; not worried about the structures test tomorrow- not crib about our date with the dingy lecture hall in the basement. Good times, these.

It is getting colder. I am so ‘happieee’, because now I can wear all my jackets! I love jackets- and own about fifteen of them! I guess it comes from a need to layer- somehow I like the concept a lot. I love layering- and I can see myself try everywhere- clothing, presentation, sketching...I think it creates interest, most primarily, and also helps make things rich with detail- its not easy to break down and understand quickly what is presented; you like the way it looks, and you realize that you have to give this more time and attention before you ‘understand’ it.

The other day my friend was commenting on my ‘loafing-around-the-city’ skills- ‘It’s either next to her house, near banashankari, or it is north Bangalore!’ Hehe..

I don’t like to share food. I don’t share ice cream.

This concept of a horn is a bit crazy. See now, its primary function is to make a certain sound when the rider wants to communicate with the person riding in front of him. And that’s what usually happens- except when people bash into you from the side. This is an extremely rare case of traffic chaos in the world, abundantly present in India. And when you horn so as to warn the guy on your side, the guy in the front turns back and gives you the ‘look’. We should probably create the concept of ‘side horn’.

They’re trying to make the concept of ‘oil champi’ before hair wash ‘cool’. What with deepika pudukune saying it with pretty eye make-up and all.

Yesterday in class, I was explaining to Janice how she lies on the line in between ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’. I explained to her my theory of expression of beauty and charm- I call it the ‘deeper than the shallow skin theory’. ‘Pretty’ comes with a certain degree of ‘airheadness’- Janice is not an air-head. Then again, ‘beautiful’ comes with words like ‘unapproachable’, and ‘museum exhibit’. But Janice is very much accessible and a lot of fun- so that’s how she lies on the line in between ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’. Hehe...She almost hit me with the set square~!

I don’t know why things start with a bang and then fade slowly into darkness. Take orkut for example. In the beginning it was a craze- people formed thousands of communities- and now look- there’s hardly any activity going on. If we drew a graph of activity versus time, it would be an exponential curve, downwards. Wonder why. Consistency. Maybe it’s the same logic of ‘It’s easy to make a promise, but immensely difficult to follow it through’...When we fade out of one, the other ones surface; and the same repeats. Is that why they say ‘history repeats itself’?

These fashion ‘forecasts’ are crazy. I refuse to ‘get’ them - WHO decides what is IN fashion and what is OUT-OF fashion? Everything seems to be coming round- my mom laughs at our lack of originality...What is ‘IN’ now, is what was ‘IN’ even when she was a teenager- ‘Nothing great in the human race having had 25 years to evolve- we’ve arrived at the same thing!’

I have never applied make-up on my face. Till today. Eye pencil. I wonder if it’s the age factor- the older you get, the more make-up you start applying... It amuses me to see how ALL women are scared of growing old. EVERYONE wants to ‘stay young’. ‘18 till I die’.

I was giving physics ‘gyaan’ to my friend over chat yesterday- reminded me of the times I used to hang out in the yahoo physics chat room- we were a wonderful set of psychos; nothing else but ‘miscellaneous’ to describe us--> school kids, accomplished businessmen, architecture students looking for a ‘break’, misled stalkers, time-passers, genuine physicists, losers, and pick pockets- ALL came together to discuss the string theory. Of course, the theory also included unexpected and sometimes undesirable field trips into random talk- hehe- but it was fun altogether. I don’t think I will get to experience that again. But I will surely tell my grandchildren about it. :)

I saw three movies in the last four days.

Yesterday night I went up to the terrace to bring down the clothes that were hung out to dry. It’s a nice place, my terrace- has a lovely view of the lake close to my home, and a continuous breeze. It’s most wonderful at night. I was almost done, and suddenly I heard someone singing. It was a beautiful voice; I couldn’t recognize the hindi song- someone’s fingers on the tabla supported the wonderful sound..I was simply rooted at the spot for a whole minute- felt strangely satisfied. I hope it’s not someone from my ‘pichla janam’, calling out to me..! :)

Smitha says she didn’t like staying in the US because the place has no ‘character’. She says that every lane, every block, and every city is the very same! In India, though, things are VERY different. Each Indian city feels, looks, and smells different. Or maybe did.

I hate medicines. I hate having to swallow tablets; I STRONGLY believe in the ability of the human body to repair itself. :)

The basic idea of ISKCON is to try and get all human form to realize its most basic purpose. Now they say that human life goes beyond the ‘circle of life and death’, and the basic aim of life should be the understanding of HOW to get away from this endless cycle. The questions, they say, have to be evoked; and this is not going to happen while we’re busy earning a living. The concept of God, as I understand it, comes only later- that God knows the way out of this cycle, and we should hence worship and love him to be given direction. I wonder if this is the fundamental point of ALL faith. All religion. Darwin’s theory is not too different from the journey of Vishnu and his incarnations on earth- both speak of the evolving form of life. I wonder what will happen if we ‘understand all’. Life won’t be exciting no more, eh? :)

Smitha almost bought me a whole stationary shop back from ammmeeerikaa...Not that those things are GREAT, but that they are not so easily available here. Very small things; new things. It’s very hard to explain to someone WHAT to bring when want ALL stationery- hehehe- but she took it well, and did a wonderful job! :)

My room being on the ground floor is like the worst boon ever. Half the things that fill it up are things that have no specific appointed place in the rest of the house, and conveniently find ‘perfect’ place in my room. Newspaper stacks, extra large and rarely used utensils, the vacuum cleaner, phone directories, guest bed sheets, first aid kit, post office stuff, etc are just some off the list. No wonder all of MY stuff falls off onto the ground!

Pink is officially the colour of the semester. Certainly.

I don’t know what the problem is with being specific. If someone asks me for the time, I like to be accurate. If someone asks me for the dimension of the tile, I like to be specific. ‘How long do you think this rope is?’—‘Hmmm...Maybe one and quarter metre?’. People frown at me when I give them accurate dimensions. For example, this rope- my brain is telling me that it’s longer than a metre, but not long enough to be one and a half times a metre; thus roughly, it should be one and a quarter. Simple. WHY do people look at me like I were a freak when I do that? They say I am ‘too specific’! It’s the ladder case that my mother talks about.

I want to learn the violin all over again. Damn. I wonder why we get these obsessions in cycles- quarterly, monthly, and the like. I guess this is a different form of ‘hype’.

While watching the cricket match yesterday, I realized that a certain patch of grass was tailored to advertise- the amusing part being that these cater to the audiences watching from their homes--The written matter was looking perpendicular to the camera (which made an angle of about 40 degrees with the ground plane). I wonder how they plot these points on the ground before they start painting.

I have to start getting my portfolio together. I know that its going to be last minute again- and I want to avoid that. But somehow, I can see it coming.

The guy behind the counter at the bakery today gave me a look of surprise when I moved back in horror in reaction to sniffing a chicken roll. My egg puff, in the meanwhile, was getting packed. He said, ‘How come u eat and egg and not chicken?’. It took me more than a second to realize that this guy knows both, that- I am vegetarian, AND that I eat egg. And he didn’t have to do anything to learn it. Just do his job. It’s funny, how much people gather about us, just by working for/around/with us. My kaka-angadi uncle at college knows that I stay far away from college, that I play volleyball for the team, and that I love samosa. The guy at the service station knows how much I travel on my bike everyday, what kind of roads I ride on, has my complete address and contact number (voluntarily given, too!). If anyone was to track me down, it would be dead easy, I guess. But then, sometimes, we just lose touch with people we once knew, and cannot trace them later- much like my case- I have continuously been searching for a primary school friend of mine...I have not been able to contact him in the last 10 years.. All I need is ONE number- just those digits- soo easy, yet impossible. We live in a funny world.

I am amused by how differently I have started addressing time- earlier it was about yesterday, last week, a year back or maximum two years back. These days, I refer to and think of the times I have lived a decade ago.

Its funny, really, how much of a surety it is that I am going to die one day; it is something that cannot be changed, modified or re-arranged- it’s THE universal truth. I don’t know why it is a ‘taboo’ topic in a general conversation. Also, talking about the ‘meaning of life’ and the like invite not opinions but frowns- people who talk like that are generally looked at as ‘psychos’. We’re just one weird race. I think someone should tell 'God’. Hehe...

I saw the trailer or ‘taare zameen par’ today. I cannot find a word for it. Probably a mix of genius, perfection and simplicity- yeah, I think that would be it. What a spectacular time it is to live our lives- we are moving, and aamir khan is no longer ‘ahead of his time’- the time is here.

I hate it when I don’t get credit for being good at things- my mom says ‘It’s simply in the genes’. Aarghh. ‘Did u win a debating competition? You had to; of course, your dad was such a natural at it!’ ‘Oh so you won the singing competition? Of course, your dad’s love for music has made your ear sensitive to the sounds-’ ‘Are you the volleyball captain? You simply HAD to be! Your mother was, too!’ ‘Do you stich? Do you knit? Do you apply mehendi? Are you good at studies? Do you have good communication skills? AAARGHH. Same answer. ‘Gift’. ‘Hereditary’. My mom tells me that all that I am is simply a product of her skills and intelligence passed down. That is so depressing! I have not done ANYTHING that my mom hasn’t already excelled at. There is nothing LEFT to, either. Sometimes I think I’m no good. Damn.

I used to think that warming up before actually playing volleyball was a waste of time. It was beyond me, WHY our coach wanted us to simply run around the ground, stretch our limbs and jump as high as we could above the net- only to get exhausted before we even picked up the ball! Having only two hours of practice, I used to hate ‘wasting’ the first hour running in 6 different ways. I used to associate warm-up with those teams which were really ‘good’, and could afford to waste time in walking on their toes around the court. Hehe...I was wrong.

I hate waiting for inspiration to ‘hit’.

Narration is such a skill. It requires such intimate understanding of human psychology! Also, there are types. And kinds.(I never really understood the difference between the two anyway) Narrations meant for kids, I think, have to be most intelligent. Imagine trying to catch the attention of a 6 year old! Although I never read ANY books at that age, I am positive some actually do. Also, it makes for such a wonderful reading when the narration is crisp and witty. And when the narrator uses words in a way to make it seem like they were actually invented for that sentence, it makes for an exceptional experience. Beautiful.

I had an interesting conversation with a stranger today. I heard his voice first, impatiently trying to be calm- and making an effort (in vain, it looked to me-) to make his junior at work understand the importance of time. Smartly dressed and waiting for his turn in the queue to drop off his vehicle for servicing, I gathered that he was having a rough morning. ‘Monday mornings are the worst-’, he said in a very bad attempt at keeping his anger within controllable levels. Poor chap. Looked like he had a LOT of work to finish this morning, and he could NOT accept that he was standing here in the mad queue instead. He could not believe what was happening-did not WANT to believe, actually- when a couple of guys jumped the queue- I could clearly see the disappointment in his voice- ‘What’s the use of having a system, if we don’t follow it??’...This is what happens everywhere; this is India. It is a land where people do not 'succumb' to rules...the average intelligence level of a general citizen is higher- people think it an insult to be told to ‘follow’. Everyone uses his own cunningness to escape/ surpass; everyone finds a way. The ones who wait are the ones who care. I think we should just give it the time.

Yesterday I went to BDA complex in banashankari after a long time. We used to go there as kids- my brother and I used to slide down the thick walls along the steps. Those days the place was very under-developed; much like what the HSR layout complex stands today. We used to walk all the way there -every night- the one hour of load shedding (dunno exact spelling, hehe..) time well spent- looking at the Barbie dolls on the display panels, watching the excited faces of kids on small rides, observing the guy in the flower shop making a bouquet while my parents bought vegetables, trying to get dad to buy us gems without actually saying it- for the fear of being yelled at; and thinking of how to overtake my brother’s walk on the way back home...We celebrated the opening of every new shop in the deserted complex... It was like a victory of a bizarre kind...Small things used to lift our spirits; we didn’t need to watch movies or buy clothes we could not afford. Some things change, some don’t.

I have to learn to ‘let go’. I tend to think and re-think about small matters; things that don’t matter that much- things that some don’t even recognize. Also, I must stop expecting things from people. It will probably take off a LOT of junk from my brain. But then again, I would hate it if people didn’t expect anything from me. I would be dissapointed if people I am close to didn’t care if I was good at something or not- and if I sucked at something or not... I think how much is expected of you is directly proportional to how much you are cared for. Maybe.

The population of china is greater than that of India by an amount (almost) equal to the population of US. Bizarre?

I watched a show called ‘jhalak dikhlaa jaa’ on TV yesterday. Not bad. I was thinking that if I was one of the judges, I wouldn’t be so loose with the words, though. Their comments weren’t specific; they were simply using words like ‘fabulous’, ‘wonderful’, ‘fantastic’- they might as well have read out from a thesaurus. When this program went in for a commercial break, we switched to another program, a singing competition. I realized that the judges there, too, were generalizing their comments- I was disappointed. I watched on, nonetheless. Then came the turn of two guys, and together they sang the old song- ‘Laaga chunari mein daag’...I simply loved the performance. It was beautiful; it was one of the best I have ever heard. When the turn of the comments came, the judges started again- ‘fantastic’, ‘fabulous’, and ‘wonderful’. Such a pity. The words seem so diluted; so shallow. I would really be more careful with my words if I were a judge on that stage.

Sometimes I feel bad for ‘non-sportspersons’-- the ones who miss half the fun in life, and don’t even know it. They don’t know what it is like to play a tournament as a team- how it is to feel thrilled by the first win; how it is to almost lose and emerge victorious... We all watch sports; we enjoy screaming and cheering on. But does everyone know how it feels like to be there on the field, actually playing? I do. It’s brilliant. I know how it feels to lose to a home crowd- I will never forget that moment, never. I will never forget that wave of bursting applause- meant not for us, but them... I will never forget how nothing else matters when you’re on court- the heat, the crowd, the noise, the dust or the hooting; only the volleyball does. I know how it feels to have almost given up playing, and then getting the chance to play once again- once last time..I will not give this up for anything in the world.

At what point in time did advertisements become ‘unreal’? Why do we react to most commercials saying ‘Oh, that’s not how it really looks.’ When advertising started, ages ago, did it mean selling your product under fake/exaggerated characteristics? Let’s look at hair shampoo ads today. Most of them show digital hair moving like a smooth, cascading, shiny mass. We all know it’s fake. Isn’t that irritating? But then again, there are some really good ads. The old complan ad, where a small boy takes his mom as a pillion on his cycle- was one wonderful ad. Then there are ads which are witty; I like the sprite ads...It makes me wonder if we will ever come back to ‘simple’ days.

Every single bone in my body hurts. I am currently moving around the house like a groaning grandma...it’s the volleyball. But then again, I could not feel better. Whatever that means. :)

Does ‘politically correct’ mean having no opinion? Or not saying it?

I cannot stand it when an electrical switch is on in an empty room. It drives my brother mad. It used to irritate me, too, when my dad used to do the same- but now I think I have been bitten, too. once bitten, no cure. :)

My mother just does not realize, I think, that she continuously comments on every perceivable thing in life. It’s not an observation, mind- it’s a comment. Be in driving on the road, watching a movie, or even eating at a restaurant. It’s the WORST when we’re following a match. GOD, her commentating follows the commentators on TV. Sometimes, she is even commenting ON the commentators. It makes for bizarre entertainment combined with periodic bursts of frustration. They make excellent memories, though. Someone once told me, ‘In your life, you will always remember things that you didn’t do, more than the ones u did.’ No connection, but just remembered.

Time is one thing we take for granted in life. We all think we have our ‘entire’ lives left to live still- so what’s the hurry? These thoughts come to my head every time something drastic happens to people around me; its just that every time something like this happens, I realise that we're not spending as much time doing what we really want to do/ what matters more to us...there are stupid things that get in the way and we live by their rules...‘She didn’t call me back, so I am not talking to her’, ‘He insulted me’, and the like. Why do we not live life with the bigger picture? Why are we always fighting and arguing with the ones we love most? Even worse, we never let them know how important they are to us. I think we should be able to take the time to say the words- you don’t want to be too late...And no one knows when it could be too late. Hmm...

I watched ‘sur’ yesterday. Good concept. Terrible acting, though.

I love the Ally Mcbeal show. It’s so wonderfully crazy. I really appreciate the creative forces behind the series; it must take a psycho genius to come up with all that...I used to watch it when I was a kid- I didn’t understand it then- it is only now that I ‘get’ it. Maybe I’ve grown up to be a psycho genius too! :D