I had my first experience of the “Mumbai social life” today. I saw them- the celebrities, the constant flashes of light, the porcelain skin, the spectacular heels, the dressed hair and the kisses in the air. So many of them- each with a glass in hand and a forced smile on the face. What is beyond me, though, is the definition of a “socialite”. What is their job description? Where do they draw their salary from?



I am a hopeless, hopeless romantic! Hehehe...



‘Modification’ is the root of all evil; it is the reason why architects, structural consultants, plumbing consultants, contractors, and also the clients- are frustrated. The process begins to drag; the joy and freshness of idea rots under the eroding scrape of repetition- “welcome to the real world”. It is the place where management becomes more important than design, where money is more important than quality of space, and where ‘faster’ means everything is to be compromised. The core, though, has a strange way of retaining itself- the spaces survive- and that day is the only incentive for the architect- it is the day when the daylight flooding in from the openings remind her of the earliest sketches of the space; it is that day when an architect thinks back- of all her successes- and adds one to the list. Tomorrow, it’s back to the frustration. Cheers!



"The Congo is as ferocious as the Nile"- I wonder where in the range our Ganga comes!

"The darkness of losing a friend and the thought of losing green to concrete...In loving my city I have come to hate it more than I can bear. It is in spite of the city itself- it is beacause of what has been done to it. The tide of speculation has decreed to banish open space and greenery in favour of boxes for shopping and living. Sunlight is a rarer commodity still. The plants, merry in a wild overgrown garden by a lake, find comfort in each other's shadows, shying away from the eroding gaze of ramphant 'development'. Perhaps they count their days. Perhaps they care less and dance away in the nostalgia of a tropical breeze."




To worship a book is such a pure thought; it is such a divine direction to take- the minute you begin to give human form to something that is not human, things start to get fuzzy. To worship an idol brings with it an inevitable association- something that allows a grey area, a layer of sponge- to those who want to find their own definitions of the ‘ultimate’...This is where the lines between the ‘not-so-good’ and ‘not-so-bad’ get smudged; there are multiples- and clear direction is lost in the complication of loyalties. Help!




“Aakhone mein jiske koi to khwaab hai,
Khush hai wohi jo thoda betaab hai..
Zindagi mein koi arzoo kejiye, phir dekhiye...

Hoton pe jiske koi to geet hai,
Woh hare bhi to uski hi jeet hai..
Dil mein jo geet hai, junjuna lejiye, phir dekhiye...

Yadon mein jiski kiseeka naam hai,
Sapnon ke jaise uski hi hashaan hai,
Koi to ho jise apna dil dejiye, phir dekhiye...

Khwaab buniye zaraa, geet suniye zaraa, phool chuniye zaraa- phir dekhiye...”

I am beginning to realize that I have always liked the alternative, the “other”- I do not like “the best”, but the one close to it; one that goes almost unrecognized, ignored- but the one that is so perilously close to the peak that it reminds me of me...”Little black dress”, they call it- I will always buy brown. I have wanted Nadal to beat Federer for years; and now that he has won, I want Djokovik to beat them both! I have always supported the “underdog”; have always been and hated having been “second best”- it is a very difficult place to be- almost consumes you from within. Reminds me of Gollum. Oh, NO! :)



Why are the only the beginnings good? Why is the only constant, change? Why are there so many questions and no answers to them? Why does no Indian answer a question directly? Why do we ask questions? Why, Why, WHY? The answer is to USE YOUR HEAD; first look within, scratch- think!



Some people should be banned from using certain words- Naveen shouldn’t be allowed to say ‘misunderstood’ in his entire life, or for that matter, even utter a single word in hindi. Varun shouldn’t be allowed to grin- it’s unfair to that part of the world that is sane- and I’m sure he agrees. Namrata shouldn’t be allowed to talk, even- she gives you the illusion of being in a fish-market- you desperately look around for the source of the noise- and then start believing in God- noone else can fit so much into one woman! I, for one, should stop using and thinking the word “amused”; it has come to be my favourite word- I am always in a constant state of amusement; what I can see, hear or smell is a continuous source of entertainment. Mama calls it “being high on life”- and carefully puts it to make the point- these states come with an expiry date.