Mar 28, 2011


Yesterday, for the first time in my life so far, I witnessed a harp solo. I saw the harp being played in ways I could never have imagined. (Ok, yeah the only instance I've seen a harp before was in a church in Kochi or in Tom & Jerry before that, but still..) 

Yesterday, for the first time, I actually saw a violin being played THAT fast.

Yesterday, for the first time, we were four hoodie-clad boys in a theater full of well dressed men and women. (Actually no, not the first time :P)

Yesterday, for the first time, I saw a cello weep.

Yesterday, I witnessed Yanni live.
The only sad part of the whole affair was that it had to end. Oh and that I felt sad for the cellist who wasn't given the spotlight and a solo when everyone else was. (She looked really nice as well).

Mar 26, 2011

Political correctness

Disclaimer: I mean no harm/offence.

Political correctness is something people strive for, wherever they work. When privacy is almost extinct, one can only do that much - make sure they say whatever they want to say but say it in a way that can be considered 'right', thought it is just a hypocritical way of stating what one would have rather stated instead. I have had to think twice or thrice before talking here, sometimes, something which I needn't have to do before. Political correctness takes the fun out of everything. I mean, Baa baa african american sheep doesn't quite fit in a rhyme does it?

My children will live in a world where the pot calls the kettle African American.

P.s: The disclaimer says it all.

My body is a building..

"Now in my dream I'm a little girl again. And l’m wearingmy little powder-blue jumper, the one I wore that day Only, I'm not on my way to any birthday party. l'm on a field trip with my class from school. We’re at the zoo. Riding the monorail and laughing.The sun is shining, balloons fill thesky and we have cotton candy for lunch. we go to the reptile house and the polar bear cage and the tigers are sunning themselves. Then we go to the monkey house. But there aren’t any monkeys. There are, climbing the jungle gym, picking salt from their hair, dozens and dozens of fat men in skirts. Huge fat men, with matching jewelry sets, swinging from limb to limb, laughing in no language. And everyone laughs and points.And then they turn around. All the monkeys. All the men, turn around at once. They turn around and look at me, right at me.And they all have the same face.And it’s Bishop's face. They all have my son’s face. "
- Fat men in Skirts by Nicky Silver, performed as a Senior year student's directing thesis. Freud and more. Funny, macabre play, brilliant setting, great props, great music and amazing amazing acting. A friday night well spent.

Mar 5, 2011

Chan ki saaans.

After four days of crashing in my friend's couch, I finally got back home thursday evening, only to brush teeth and pack stuff for the trip later that evening. The spring-break trip which in movies, generally involves a road trip and some fun in the sun.

Ten of us set off to Frankenmuth, a small village town an hour outside Ann arbor, supposedly known as the Bavaria of Ann arbor. It was a beautiful town, with small roads, lit streets and queer buildings with shops that closed at 9 PM. There were fudge kitchens, taverns and places which boasted of 75 different types of cheese. We made a mental note to go back there when it was light.

We left early the next morning (an achievement in itself) and set course to Crystal Mountain, the ski resort where we were headed. I have never been on such a drive before. It was beautiful yes, but not the happy colorful spring green and yellow, squirrel on the bark beautiful. It was the stark white snow with red houses and dome-roofed barns beautiful. It was the occasional big country house in the middle of nowhere beautiful. It was the sound of a brook flowing through pebbles beautiful. It was perfect for some porcupine tree music. Then we reached the resort.

Push down slope. Wedge. Stop. Fall. Push down slope. Finish. Victory dance. Move to bigger slope. Trippy ski-lift to the top. Jaw-drop at view from the top. Push down slope. Fall. Getup. Push down. Fall. Push down. Finally finish. Wet sore ass but triumphant grin on the face.

What clinched it was when we went up the ski-lift to a bigger track. The skis weighed down my legs as I let them hang loose, travelling on that cable car, hundred feet over swift moving forms in the powdery white snow. The occasional shudder made it even more beautiful. After what seemed like a while, we suddenly started evening out and all I could see in front of us was the sky and the horizon expanding out.   We were standing, or trying to stand, rather, on one of the small peaks of the crystal mountain, the expanses of Michigan spread out before us and two trails leading down in an incline which I couldn't comprehend at first. It was an amazing feeling, standing there, trembling in the wind, nervous, while small kids of 5 years whizzed past us on mini skis. Finally the five of us jumped down, one by one.

Fast chilly winds brought tears to the eyes and shook my feet as I gathered speed. I saw a couple of friends crash/wipeout in front. One had a cartoon-network moment. He was going smooth till he saw a tree and feel down before he hit it. Another ventured into the tougher tracks by mistake and crashed. Yet another found novel methods of crashing which made passersby pause and commend him. I crashed, and slid on my ass for a few feet before turning sideways and stopping. I got up and held onto a tree before putting the skis back on and crashing again. I got up and this time, however, I made it to the bottom, with a grin on my face. Crashing had never been so much fun.

We returned our shoes to a pretty girl at the counter, who wasn't there when we first got them. We returned our skis to an old man who asked if any of took videos. Most of us slept on the way back. It was a feeling akin to those field trips I had had at school, when everyone is tired and a little sad that it is getting over.

Ten sore asses and twenty tired legs returned to Ann arbor with a ton of un-uploadable photos.

"Mmm, party."

Ski-trip : check.
Epic ski-trip : Double check.

P.s : Yanni concert on the 27th in Detroit. March isn't so bad after all.

Mar 3, 2011

Gute Nacht

There are times when you miss things you did before.

And then there are those times when you miss those things that never happened.