Monday, June 30, 2008

Those projects did move on to micromanage.Salvaged nth minute, and now are out of the ICU but still in the general ward. J Which means the end is quite some distance away.
The third project, the really really big one, has yet to re-begin.

Must document the curious case of the burnt plastic and the lost tax filing sometime.
Luckily, both were retraced, retrieved after a lot of hand wringing.
Learning- follow up, always always. Also, that he is really getting old, despite his gung-ho attitude.

Friday, June 27, 2008

What bugs you?

That was the writing prompt this week. Interesting reactions, how they vary around the world.

Of course, as a country we tolerate entirely too much.

July 26, 2005 memories of the deluge.

So what bugs you?

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

In the darkness of crowds trooping home, a woman in a sequined polyester saree worn too high, hands over cash from her rexin purse to a man who stands entirely too close for comfort-so many paths this story can take,what I see will be quite different from what you see, is it not?

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Among a roomful of bejeweled women in rustling kanjeevarams and charming gray-haired men seated by white linen covered tables, a bullet from a silenced mauser smuggled through the service entrance of the luxury hotel ricochets off a chandelier. Another whizzes and reaches its target- the elderly statesman at the podium- just as he steps away for some water. Screams, shattering glass, running footsteps and darkness.

Disclaimer: Take one long commute. One bored woman, sitting at said table, twiddling thumbs. One rambling speech. Lots of clapping. Blend.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Thursday, June 19, 2008

And humpty dumpty had a great fall.
Silly shoes. Silly me.
Interesting work pace. Crazy, but fun.
Nothing profound. Emerging perspectives are intriguing.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

387 words, and done. Unlike last week. There always is time, always. Time is a construct, someone said. A patli gali, a jugaad. Now for the crit deluge. Feels awful when I don’t.

Monday, June 16, 2008

I like to micromanage. On once-a-year projects, the big ones that well, matter. To see it through, each page/frame. Signing off ceremoniously, then its not in my hands anymore, right? This once I’m not doing that- boss’s orders, too much happening at the same time. Am tense and completely in knots. Am trying visual imagery, the annual visit to Mt Mary’s and putting the finished product at her feet like always. Not working too well.

And as always when I need to stop fretting, I cooked. Ground masalas too- garam masala and dhana-jeeru (coriander-cummin), heavenly that fragrance; understood why the aunts back home concoct their own blends instead of buying from the shops.

Father’s day y’day. Baba and I laughed at the 85% discount we’d get if we shopped at Reliance Trends. (One got a discount equivalent to the parent’s age.)

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Because he is the King. Because there is only one King.
Because of Abhimaan. And Alaap. Kabhie Kabhie. Silsila. And Black. And Satte pe satta. Kala patthar. And weeping through Muqaddar ka Sikandar. Twice.
Just, because.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Recycling words. Fragments of phrases, half remembered. Reuse, renew. One could get quite good at this.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Walking home eating a just-roasted, lime and salt-chilli smeared bhutta (corn on the cob), watching reflections in the puddles... Ah,Life.

Monday, June 09, 2008

I turn my face to the sky. Gentle drops brush my skin. Lightening cuts to the ground, a temper tantrum. Rain: intent, pelting, insistent, driven falls like a sheet of steel. I draw the raincoat closer, all resistance futile, drenched in no time.

Another rain: bai’s shanty, mostly mud, tin and stone, has caved in. She runs around trying to find the money, knowing that she hasn’t what it’d take to build strong, 1.5 lacs. She knows and I know what she’s putting together is flimsy, temporary, just about there, but it’ll have to do. Like a lot of things, patchwork.

The city is a mess. Already. BMC, MMRDA officials should be made to stand on the expressway in a downpour, swirling water rising waist high. A first witness check on the so-called disaster management. My first and last crib on this issue.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Last night I saw a red-black night sky with scattered lines of fluffy clouds, lightning cackled like an artist’s highlights, a strange electric unease filled the air. Later, a shower washed leaves clean of grime, that just-about-wet earth smell. Relief.

Monday, June 02, 2008

Abhilasha Ojha/ Business Standard/ How the Jawahar Knowledge Center initiative by the Govt of Andhra Pradesh is changing trajectories for several below-poverty-line families.

Does the soul good to read about hope.