I realized only today that Quest for Thought turned 5 this June. It's sad that the year has almost come to an end, and even though so much has happened, I haven't made enough time to write. Five years! Half a decade. I've been able to define myself not only through my writing, but in the writing of others. To everyone who takes the time out to visit, and comment, and care- thank you.

Jayashree, you're my biggest find in this blogging world. Your writing is amazing, and I can only hope that you keep giving me things to read.

Navneet, I've found in you the brightest of minds and kindest of hearts (and correct grammar, and someone who can cut short my sentences). I can't wait to see the Nobel in your hands.

Koze, you're the reason I started writing, and you probably have a few people who can't wait to murder you for that. I love your writing, and you! A million thank yous for everything.

Anna, Adi, Abhishek, Ry- I wish you'd write more!

All my love.

For the first time in roughly four years, I've spent an hour and a half a day actually LEARNING. There's been this international conference going on in college- I'd usually get involved with the organizing and that'd be the extent of my involvement, but since this one the staff wanted to handle, they just made attendance compulsory to make the auditoriums look more full. Not one to even attend such things, I went with my ipod loaded with two new movies and some Full House episodes. Only, to my surprise there were actually people from abroad- proper universities like Rutgers and all, even profs from IIT Bombay! I loved listening to their speeches even though ALOT of it had little to do with my course work.

So, that's reason one of the lightheartedness that I've been experiencing. Learning, I find, always make me happy. Specially after the early deaths my brain cells have been sentenced to these past four years.

Reason number two is because soon approaching is the end of this road. And the last stretch looks infinitely tolerable now that the staff allotted for my subjects and project work will be lecturers who wouldn't be bothered to even take classes. It's the least they can do.

Reason number three is that I am now officially an Accenture employee, thank you very much. The job offer has been signed sealed and delivered. I have a very nice t-shirt that came along with the offer letter- one my mom had to literally force off my back to wash :D I love the company already and I hope I won't be too disappointed.

Reason number four is that Pride and Prejudice (BBC series) that I now have the pleasure of watching thanks to Zee Studio. I would like to go on record to state that both the movies (Bollywood and Hollywood) were abominable compared to this one and the book, at the same time asking you to put previous acclaims down to temporary insanity.

Reason number five is that my birthday is coming up. And for once in my life, I've got a whole list of things I DO want, and am actually saying it out aloud instead of worrying about if I deserve them or not. Mom, dad, sis- if you're reading this, just to remind you of the decision we arrived at after today's discussion- you are to ditch the search for a perfect phone, and work on buying me the perfect car instead.

Reason number six is all the wonderful people in my life. Sis, you may leave me breathless but you're like those just perfect rays of sunshine that warm you and leave you smiling. Dish and Simrat, you guys are the like the smell after the first rains that leaves you happy and satisfied. Mom, we bug the hell out of you but then again, you leave no stone unturned in returning the favor. And you, the people of the blogging world who STILL visit, muah! You make me smile.

Reason number seven is well, there's nothing else I can put this unencumbered feeling down to. There's a right time for everything. For letting go, holding on. For wanting to just hide under the covers and not want to face the day, for liking what you see in the mirror and actually looking forward to the day. For worrying about every tiny smile you feel you have to hide, for every spontaneous hug you let yourself enjoy. You get the general idea. What I'm trying to say is, have faith. When the time is right, you'll be free and ready to believe again. Until then, eat chocolate cake and enjoy your girl friends. Don't be in a hurry to get to the other side, you'll get there when you are ready.

I leave you with Mary's Boy Child Jesus Christ- really helps singing it.

All my love!

P.S. Check out the human calendar in my side bar! Me loves.

'Twas a rainy day. Sis and me had spent the day lazing around and all we needed to top off a perfect day was a perfectly gooey chocolate cake. So, I put on my chef's hat and came up with what is my best cake recipe ever.

For those of you who have never baked a normal chocolate cake before, here's the ingredients. For those of you who know the drill skip to the last two magic ingredients.

* 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
* 1 cup superfine sugar or just sugar.
* 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
* About 100 gm butter- salted works just fine.
* 2 large eggs
* Vanilla extract for flavor.
* 1/2 cup of curd/ milk (for if you use one egg)
* Cocoa AND drinking chocolate
* Secret (Not so secret after this, but whatever) Ingredient No1. Marie gold biscuits or (any other biscuits- I use these because they have a very mild flavor and don't complement the chocolate).
* Secret (ditto) Ingredient No2. Jam. Preferably grape/strawberry. Natural. Not Kissan and all ok?

Now, first add the butter and sugar into a food processor and beat until smooth. Next add flour in half cups interspersed by an egg- or you could just put it all in together. You could use one egg and the half cup of curd/ milk. Else, two eggs should do it.

Add about a teaspoon of vanilla extract and the baking powder.

Next, you need to add only about one large spoon of cocoa and about three-four spoons of drinking chocolate- mix the entire thing. If you want more chocolate, add more drinking chocolate, NOT cocoa, unless you like your cake bitter.

The magic bit- to about two teaspoons of the jam add about a teaspoon of milk/hot water, and whisk it into a smooth paste. Add this to your cake batter and give it one last shake.

Grease your baking dish with butter, and dust with a little bit of flour. Put the biscuits (around ten-fifteen) into a plastic bag and crush them using a rolling pin. Crush the slightly larger pieces into finer dust/ smaller pieces using your hand. Layer the baking dish with an even layer of this.

Pour your batter into this. And bake. If you use a microwave oven, bake at 160 using the forced air option for about 10- 11 mins. Bake for an extra 1-2 mins depending on how "gooey" you want it to be.

When done, dust with a little icing sugar, and serve!! Alternatively, take a fork and dig in.

I was just recalling how the exam I wrote on Friday went.

It was so hilarious.

Half the class went to the bathroom, one after the other, in the first forty five minutes after starting the exam.

More than half the class (thus including people who visited the loo and those who didn't) got up and went to get themselves a drink of water during the exam.

Almost everyone sharpened each pencil that was in their pencil boxes at least 4 times- it was a programming paper, did I mention?

Some people also ended up punching numbers into the calculators they were carrying to verify if the multiplication tables they'd been taught were right.

And yes, I spent the little time left, cataloging this information.

On a totally different note, sometimes all you need to right your world are your bestest friends in the whole wide world on the phone with you.

Oh and for those of you who are wondering, I am NOT christian. I love Christmas time though. And thanks to my stay in Mumbai, I've even been an actual angel in the midnight mass plays. Yes, an angel. Will wonders ever cease, eh?

I absolutely loved working on this template. Adobe Photoshop rocks. The base template isn't mine, but I've tweaked with it alot to get what I liked best. There's also an option that allows you to stop the carols from playing near the Santa who is strumming his guitar- for you Scrooges. If you have a special request, make it, I'll see what I can do.

Until then, be good and be happy.

All my love.

After four years of blogging, some form of appreciation. Sure, it had to be wheedled out. Still, eeeek! I got a blog award.

Awarded by
astrodominie to Sthupit Girl

This post is going to be super shot. One, fathers have this way of waking their daughters up that mothers can just never do. Mornings suddenly become bearable, even Monday mornings. And even though you'll never read this, thank you dad.

Two, for the third time in one month, I've gone for CAT class only to sneak right out and back home. It's not like I don't get enough opportunity to travel by MTC, which by the way is a post long due, that T.I.M.E. is doing me a favor by giving out wrong schedules and/or rescheduling without notice.

Three, I just realized I've written fifteen mock cats already. Fifteen. That's five more than ten and five less than twenty. Which would mean there's exactly five Sundays before the D-Day.

Four, we grow up hearing about how great the Ratan Tatas and the Mittals of India are. I've read about their lives, and I read about them every time I pick up a newspapers. A new factory here, a take over there. But it's only after hearing the press conference Mr. Tata had regarding the Singur issue, did he become "real" to me. It was in that moment that I knew that I liked his dignity, and I was left inspired by his passion.

Five, I thought I was the most peculiar person in my family. Or at least one with the most peculiar peculiarities. Turns out, my sistar is slowly inching her way to first place. So- she robs dad of a an absolutely new notebook. Lies down beside me on the bed and starts flipping its pages. After a whole entire minute, her actions have my complete attention. She continues to touch each page with reverence before going to the next. She continues to touch each blank page with reverence before going to the next.

And now I must run. Have a super fun long weekend,

SG.

P.S. Dad just let me drive the car first time after the puja (yes, me the punjabi did the not-punjabi ayudha puja). Finally a sign of good things to come.

Everyone seems to be on the lookout for something. That "something", in almost ALL of these cases is almost always happiness. Spell it whichever way. With a 'y' or an 'i'. If it's not happiness that is on the list, then there's things that you think will bring you happiness.

But I don't get why people are searching for it. Being it is possibly the simplest thing ever. Being it, not getting it. If happiness (y or i) were something you could get, it would by default mean, that it were also something you could lose. When you "get" it, you entity-fy it. It's a thing now. No longer a feeling, an abstract noun. Which is not what happiness (y or i) (from now on, every time you read happiness, read the "y or i" with it, until you are told to not do so) is.

Say, it is an entity- that will go on to mean that you get it from some place or some person and you lose it to some person or at some place. Two people/ things participate in this relationship, thus establishing a dependency. This dualism, is in my opinion, why there's very few people who ARE actually happy.

I'm no saint. I haven't given up materialistic things. I still derive joy from small things. But this fleeting feeling of pleasure or pain is not what I refer to as happiness. Happiness is a sense of being, to me. It is something that I am. It isn't something that I'm looking for from another person. It isn't something that depends on whether it rains today or not. Or on whether or not I receive an unexpected call. It is something that runs in my blood. So much so that, it makes me feel lighter. A bigger person. At peace. Free of entrapment.

I'm probably making little sense, as usual. But I'll take an example.

Most people of my generation, have already been through a multitude of love- relationships by the time they get to my age. I've been through one. It lasted a couple of months only for a varied number of reasons. Point was, for the first time in my life I was head over heals in love- butterflies-in-the-stomach, when-you're-holding-me-you-drown-out-the-crowd, smile-stuck-on-face-love.. When it came to an end, for a lot of time, there was no emotion. Which gave way to a total loss of self. Which in turn faded into this gut wrenching pain that just refused to go away.

What I kept questioning was how come I was suffering so much when "being in love" is supposed to be one of the best things people ever experience. How come I'd given up smiling, let alone living. Introspection lead to the realization that for some reason I had been denying the fact that I was/ had been in love. I'd been trying to convince myself that it had just been something I'd had to go through. Blocking thoughts. That the guy in concern, was just somebody. I'd get over him. It.

Question was/is, how do you get over something you won't even acknowledge? Enlightenment didn't come to me under no tree. But come it did. I was in love. Where was I going denying it? Loving someone did not entail being loved in return. Loving someone did not entail well, anything. Loving someone, was just, loving someone. Being in love.

When it had to go, it would go. If it wasn't meant to go, then it wouldn't. With him, I've known what are the best days of my life, so far. I've actually gotten "love letters". I've smiled and still do at the barest thought of this person. I've gotten up with the biggest of smiles on my face for weeks. I've felt the tingle, the butterflies. I felt gorgeous every time he called me that. It's been three years, and I still feel the same when I think of him.

It's all still there. So deep rooted, that there IS no point trying to deny it. When I give myself up to these pleasures, these feelings, I am free. I am no longer bound with the need to reject, get over, cry or worry. I am no longer bound. I just am.

Being in love is just who I am now. It's not something I can surgically remove. It's not a thing. It's not an entity. It's just me.

I understand that maybe this wasn't "it". He wasn't "the one". I understand that there will be better times. But until then, why deny myself? Why try to go against what I'm feeling? Why question? Why judge. Why not "just be"? This isn't an exam I have to work for!!

Which brings me to the point of putting you through these excruciating details- just like love, happiness just is. You are happiness. However, you won't realize it, feel it, experience it until you've shaken off the chains that bind you. The conditions you've set. The dualism you bring in only strengthens the mental prison.

Happiness in knowledge. It's knowing yourself. Like when you fall in love- the other person doesn't complete you in the way you think he or she does. You weren't "half" before they came along. You just didn't know alot about the person you are. Being with this person lets you get in touch with you. Be more of you. THAT is the completeness you feel.

Happiness is when you stop looking for "it" in things or people. It's something that you carry in yourself. A state of being you will achieve, only when you know yourself. A place in which things happen because they happen. Nothing you can do or could have done can change things. The outcome of an event has no bearing on you. It's a state of innocence that is free of the "I".

It's a sense of celebration that comes from the freedom of being you!

Simple.

From the moment we get up to the time our heads hit the pillow at night- we ask ourselves questions. Some questions we're too scared to ask. We know the answers to others, and ask them anyway- because we need to hear the words. The thing we don't realize is, is that when the answers are different from the ones we expect, even the ones with good answers, THAT is the moment that brings us happiness.

Right.

Way too much thought into that. I wish I could put it better, but I'm feeling too much levity.

Reason?

If one must pin point, then I'd have to say, it was a trip back to school that's brought a smile on this face. Funny thing though, it wasn't one that included friends and sitting in my old classroom and just being kids again. Ok, so you can take off the "again" in that sentence, but you get the idea.

This one was just me. Involved judging (third time in a row). It's amazing to see how people still remember you. I'm so proud of my sister. Because more than just being remembered for me, I think I'm remembered because of her for me.

It was so funny. I was in the classroom where the competition was taking place (the one that I had to judge) just fooling around the my sis and her friends and this kid from the back of the class looks at me and signals asking who the judges were and when they would come!!

I got to school early and so went and sat in the auditorium with some of my sister's other friends who were compering for the event that was going on. This guy, also an ex student of some other school, around my age, went onto stage to announce the winners of the event he had being called to judge and he says, "Before I announce the results, I've got only one thing to say - KALANJALI ROCKS". And you will not believe, but it was like I was back at school, an organizer myself, because you wouldn't have found me sitting all prim and proper clapping my hands at this comment- I was right THERE with the others yelling and cheering.

Everyone started cheering when my bio was being read! When I had to go up on stage to announce the results of the event I had come for, and told them current BVMites how they had outdone themselves this year, there was even more cheering. And the judges of the event that we had to disturb to make these announcements sat with puzzled faces wondering who this new celebrity was. Only to find out that the cheering was because I was one an ex student, and two because I was a sister.

I realize how "old" I've become only on occasions like these, when I go back to school, and I'm NOT in my school uniform. Thankfully, my teachers still look on me as "not old" and don't "thank me for taking out time to come back to school" with the mementos, and in fact admonish me for not coming unless invited! The mementos in haven't changed in the three years that I've been out, and I have three cups with "BVM" on them, to prove just that :D

I wish everyone had been there with me. It would have made for an even more perfect memory!! There will be other times, I tell myself. There will be other times.

Hope your day was as good as mine,

All my love.

-------------------
Singing-

I´m gonna organize some changes in my life
I´m going to exorcise the demons of my past
I´m gonna take your car and hit the open road
I´m feeling levity just open up and go

I just feel like I can do anything
But all my life I´ve wished to be
I´m going to decide just what I wanna be
Make my wildest dreams come true

So, television is my latest source of amusement. You don't even have to be following a particular show or season to dissolve into fits of laughter. All you have to do is flip through channels.

Today's flipping resulted in something striking- There's some reality show on MTV called TVS Scooty Ms Teen (or something along those lines). Apparently everyone likes to watch and hear crabby teenagers who are tested on their bitchiness and gossipy flair.

Anyway, they have this "voting out" round, in which, once the "safe" contestants have voted for whom they wish to "save" from the ones in the "danger zone"- the girls who were in the danger zone are made to sit on a TVS Scooty each. Guess what happens next?

The VJ who is hosting that particular episode, hands them keys. Only one of which will start a bike. And the person whose bike starts, is safe.

Beat that on the lame- meter.

You know how when you're walking down the road, and you find a lone slipper/ shoe lying on the side, and you smile that small smile and shake your head wondering how the hell it ever got there? Yeah, well, now I know.

The wonderment is less when you find one in the center of the street, because then it's probably because it fell off someone's foot while they were on a bike or something. And if it's on the side and is accompanied with utensils or clothes, you figure it was probably a part of a get- the- hell- out- of- my- house tantrum. But when it's just sitting there all alone- you're flummoxed.

I won't be anymore.

Mothers ARE a whole different breed. And mine belongs to a whole other different breed. Because not only is she the whole sacrificing, peace making body in the house, great cook, dedicated employee, brilliant teacher, can shout at levels that match my sisters' and more- she happens to be the reason for my enlightenment. For de- flummoxing me. For seeing to it that I shall never be flummoxed by a lone slipper on the road side ever again.

Best part is, it was done so carefully, that I hadn't a hint about what was coming.

It all started when ma needed to get down from the car, and couldn't find anything to go onto her other foot. She tried feeling around for the chappal in the darkness- it had to be somewhere in the car after all- but didn't have much luck. Leading to an extensive search of the car, which also turned out to be in vain. The suggestion that it could have been left at the last stop was met with general laughter and we searched with lesser enthusiasm this time round. Because while inane under normal circumstances, the scenario that had been put forth looked more and more probable. How could we find something that wasn't even there?

And just to make sure that we'd left no stone unturned in our search for the lost chappal, we went back to the possible scene of action. And there it was lying just where we'd parked before, looking all lost. That was IT- when it found the first beam of the car's light- that was when the light dawned on me too. When the blinders were removed. When I realized.

So bothered about not smashing the eggs in her hands, she had been- that while getting into the car (for reasons she refuses to make public) she'd taken off her chappals (again, for reasons she refuses to make public) so that exactly one of them had landed outside the car. Carefully placed the eggs in her lap. Closed the door. *And off we'd driven into the sun set*

That's one of life's so far unanswered questions- well, answered.

May the light always be with you. All my love.

I'm itching to write today, and as usual- I can come up with nothing worth saying. At ALL.

*off key singing*

Too much work always bring out my most creative side. Not in the excellent time management, I can get this done way, more in the- ooh! That's a super idea, let's paint it way. Or make it. Or draw it. Or clean it. After which, only, can I get any of the "too much work" done. Even though the time I have to do this "too much work" decreases, I get it done better. So, indirectly "too much work" does bring out my creative side in the excellent time managerial way. Wierd. Yay though.

*off key singing at a higher pitch*

There are these few times when people, without knowing, say exactly the thing you needed to hear. For me, these moments are even lesser in number because more often than not I'm on the listening and observing side. This one thing someone said stays with me- at times I wonder if it really did happen and that if it is in fact not some creation of my over imaginative mind.

We were sitting on the steps right outside our class during break time, this friend of my mine and I. I mustave been less chirpier than usual, because she and even my sir wanted to know why I was so quiet. I've been a last bencher all my life, and have never found myself at a loss of something smart to say- guess that's why the silence came as a shock.

The fact that he had even noticed that much, was pleasing in its own way. Anyway, he's the best teacher I've ever had- it was a treat sitting in his classes, because not only did he inspire you to learn but he always got my jokes and never failed to come back with one himself. And on that day,THE hardest day of my life, out of nowhere sir decided to let me know that his wife and long time girl friend (there's definitely something wrong about that sentence!) knew all about us last benchers, and that they wanted to have a daughter just like me. ME. ME!!

There's others. But somehow they fade slightly when compared to this one. What's the best thing someone s ever said to you?

What lured me to this show was the fine print on the invitation that told guests cocktails and dinner would follow. I have a sweet tooth and a spicy tooth, need I say more?

I went prepared to be bored to death by some idiot trying to teach me the basics of banking and the share market or something equally dull. I say dull, because it was Monday evening after a long day at college: usually I love hearing/ reading about the stock market. What I got instead was 59 minutes of pure laughter.

Ash Chandler, is a name to reckon with. Don't be mislead by the weird name. I expected to find some wannabe, but got an impeccably dressed, voluble stranger, who had the ability to make me laugh. As for explaining whether his real name is Ash or not, he says in an exasperated tone. "It really is a true story. Though I wish I could say it is not! My parents met at a University in Minnesota. My dad's from Haryana, his name is Chander Sharma, which went on to become Chandler. I was born under the Ashwini star and hence the name Ash!"

He's a stand up comedian, passionate biker, absolutely fantabulous singer and a restaurateur who also does some minor roles as an actor. I, for one, hadn't heard of this guy till I saw him last evening- and that, I've realized has been my loss. For those of you who know Mumbai, the name Da Vinci's, should ring many bells.

I'd say he was a smaller version or Russell Peters, but that'd be kinda unfair. For he's milder. Or that's what I gathered. While the bases he covered- same old marriage, languages, parents, tantric sex- were common enough, his take on them was absolutely fresh and actually funny.

And he has a voice to die for. I could be biased cuz he sang all my favorites- Your Song by Elton, Crazy Little Thing Called Love- Queens (he was as good as Koze!!), Sway by Michael Bubble and What a Wonderful world- the exact Louis Armstrong version. But from the crowd's reaction, my bias couldn't have played a major role.

59 minutes. Because it was less than an hour. Because the bank didn't want to pay for "an hour or more".

If he ever visits your town- don't miss him!!! After all- laugh, cuz tomorrow s only going to be worse.

All my love.