Spotted...

...today in Cochin:

"Bangkok
Chinese Restaurant"

aahahahahahahaa!!
:)
I will sponsor the first person who volunteers to go check out the food. And the next time I go that way, will try and get a picture.

"Hey Atyatbudha, meet my friend Shoonyabandhu"

If people really take Maneka Gandhi's "Penguin Book of Hindu Names" to heart, this sentence could well be a part of regular conversation soon. I cannot believe some of the names in this highly praised, hyped up book. Take these two for instance. I mean, Atyatbudha? And Shoonyabandhu -- it has two meanings listed, neither of which would tempt me to name my kid this. The first being "one with no friends", and the second being "friend of dogs".

And anyway, the book should have been titled "Penguin book of Sanskrit names", because that is all there is in it. Apart from two and a half Tamil names and one Malayalam. The latter is priceless -- "Pakal". Meaning "day". I think the woman does not realise the difference between "word" and "name", because clearly, Pakal (like many others in the book) is a word, and certainly not a name. I challenge her to introduce me to a Pakal Kumar or a Pakal Menon.

The blurb reads: "The aim of the work is twofold: to serve as a practical guide for parents choosing a name for their offspring; and to provide a precise and in-depth sourcebook for scholars, pandits and lay readers who like to know what familiar (and not so familiar) Hindu names actually mean." But when bookstores keep it in the child-care section, be assured that people who pick it up are looking for names for their babies. And then imagine coming across something like Arbuda, meaning tumour!

Don't even get me started on the many names that mean things like hell, blood, worm and a collection of such unpleasantness.

"I want to break free"

It's as though I swallowed something live. Sometimes, it's like there's an octopus inside of me, struggling with its tentacles to get out. And I have to keep telling myself, it's only a baby whose anthem seems to be "I want to break free".

The bump is growing and I am expected to be happy all the time. It's been fun so far. And the rest of the journey better continue being so. Though it scares me a bit -- what is now a bump will soon be an individual, with likes and dislikes, screaming for attention...

My phone got stolen!

And may the thief rot in hell.

All my contacts from the last so many years, all the birthday reminders, all the lovely pictures, my Snake score.... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

And I loved my phone. While S saw it as an opportunity to buy a new phone, I wanted the same model. My sleek and slim beautiful phone... sigh...

Jaane tu ya...

I've been wanting to hear the "Aditi song" after this film critic dedicated his weekly column to this AR Rehman number. So finally heard it the other day when I went and saw the movie (Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na). Loved it. And why not? It has the simplicity of running down stairs. But it is disappointing that in the film, what brings about the song is the death of a cat. Uh...

Anyway, about the film. Just another college romance flick, people have said. Chocolate boy hero, cliched plot, people have said. But I enjoyed every bit of it. Apart from the fact that the boy and girl called each other Rats and Meow. Ack! But the supporting cast -- superb! Naseeruddin Shah in his portrait frame, Paresh Rawal insisting that there are many more nasty policemen like him in the force, Ratna Pathak Shah trying to keep the violent strain out of her son. The best of the lot is certainly the witty and engaging script.

Like adding his signature at the end of a letter, Abbas Tyrewala's parting shot: An old man with a long grey beard fallen asleep in the arrival lounge of the Mumbai airport holding a placard that says "Mr Godot". :)

What god gets happy when some 50 men including four frenzied drummers keep an entire neighbourhood awake for over 3 hours in the dead of the night?

In the last three years that we have lived here, we have had several godly processions disturbing general peace. But this was the last straw. The procession started at 11 in the night from somewhere in the labyrinth beyond. The noise took an hour to die out of our range of hearing. At midnight, when things had quietened down, we stumbled bleary eyed to bed. Only to be rudely woken up again at 1 am. It soon peaked, as the return journey closed in on us. And stayed at that peak, right below our window, for a good 15 minutes. And so the procession proceeded, painfully slow, stopping every 100 metres or so and going into frenzies. We even called the cops, and said how can you allow such public nuisance at this time of the night? But it's god's business, they said.

If that particular god was really happy yesterday, I really don't want to know that god.
And if your religious sentiments have been hurt by this post, please explain to me this style of worship and why it is unavoidable.

Here's more

Found one more of the unforgivably bad water bottle philosophy.

I spent my youth never questioning a destiny that made me spend years gathering natural minerals on the Himalayas. And now that yours has led you to me, don't hesitate to drink up.

I say, I would really like to meet the guy who comes up with these.