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.

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.

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.

Hi, I'm Leah.

It was 4 PM and we hadn't had our first meal of the day. We decided to go to "La Casita", the best mexican place we'd seen so far in Ann Arbor, where the chimichangas are to die for. So, we set off at 4:30 and Anunay knew the way to the place. Three-fourths of the way "there" we realized we weren't referring to the same place. He instead, was setting course for "La fuente", his best mexican place. We went along, we just wanted good food. There we met her, Leah , easily the best waitress I've seen so far.

I don't know if it was how she was happy, or the way she leaned closer to me as she took the order, or  the way she got all of our soft drinks with the right amount of ice, or just the way how she started an impromptu dance on her way back to the kitchen as a new song started playing, but she made my day.

I'm definitely going back there on a saturday evening at 5 PM.

The weather is beautifully sad. It is the kind of beauty which would stop you from taking pictures of it. It forces me to remain indoors and makes me appreciate the warmth and my cup of tea much more than I would normally. One can keep looking at the swerving sheets of snowflakes and not get bored, as books and research papers lay strewn, neglected, on the floor.

Last sip of tea. It gets darker. I have to study.

Sometimes I feel EECS588 is reason enough to study in Michigan. I can easily say that every single research paper I read here was written by cool people, because not only do they have amazing insight but also great humor.

The course has no exams and no homeworks, just a project, a security attack demo and reading two papers every class. Some papers are as good as short stories.

When the professor welcomes you for the second class wearing a red star china hat and says "Thank you for coming back today. This is going to be the best class you'll ever take in UMich", you know you're good to go.

No MSG. No Preservatives. No regrets.

Kettle cooked potato chips with sea salt and cracked pepper.

And the letters on the wrapper read "Dirty chips".

Best chips ever.

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P.s : Imagine all the advertisements one can shoot for "dirty chips"!

When the stars point and laugh.

I know I'm a Pisces/Aries cusp. I know all the 12 signs of the zodiac. I know what comes when. I don't know what my birthstone, color etc are. I don't know who I get along with or what kind of people pisceans are. I've heard people tell me I have characters that are associated with Pisces. I say OK. It isn't bad if you're not like your sign and it isn't great if you are. To an extent, Zodiac signs control people like puppets. The best parts about the zodiac are the signs associated with them and the shapes they make in the sky.

If your zodiac changes, do you change? If you say yes, then IMHO you are the biggest pile of Taurean excreta I've ever heard of. I know many people who classify people based on zodiac signs and are happy to meet other people of the same sign.

Will you see yourself any differently now that your star has changed?  And if stars do govern your character and the new system IS right, will your belief system fail? Would you still find something that feels like home with your new sign?

I see why churches used to ban science. It's a laugh riot in the heavens.

I wish I was the last note of a piano piece which lingers for a few seconds before vanishing into the silence that surrounds it or the fingers of the pianist which stay in place for the same few seconds till it vanishes.

I found out why a bell is referred to as a ding-dong today. Earlier, church bells used to the only ones in high towers and they always swayed. When they rang, when the bell swung closer to you, you hear a ding. And when it moved away from you, due to the wonder that is the doppler effect, you hear the ding, as a dong.

How I love physics.