A pocket full of sunshine: Sunshine blog award!

I hopped over to my friend Ann’s blog recently (ok, last month – I’m lazy, what can I say?) and found to my delight that she was back blogging (yay girl!) and that she had given me a blog award! How cool is that?

Now, to accept this award, I need to answer a few questions about myself. So here goes!

1) Favorite color: When it comes to clothes, I have to say white – in a shop full of gorgeous colored kurtas, I unerringly find my way to the whites. They’re elegant and so cool during summer. Clothes apart, I like myself nice, bright colors – oranges, pinks, blues, yellows…Wait, you didn’t want one color, did you? 😉

2) Favorite animal: Cats! I currently have a young cat who adopted us about 2 years ago. She just walked onto the husband’s tennis court one fine day and from there she waltzed straight into our hearts. Isn’t she a beauty?

3) Favorite number: I hate math! And numbers, and addition, subtraction, multiplication..and algebra and geometry…enough said?

4) Favorite non-alcoholic beverage: Cappuccino and ice cold latte!

5) Facebook or Twitter: Facebook, definitely! Twitter kinda bores me.

6) My passion: Photography, art, writing, reading!

7) Getting or Giving Presents: I love to give presents. It’s fun to go hunting for the perfect gift for friends. But not for the husband – he hates surprises!! And Of course, I love reeciving gifts too!

8) Favorite pattern: Hmm…never really thought of that one. Does the unique patters you find in an ice cube count?

9) Favorite Day of the Week: Saturday! You still have Sunday to look forward to! 🙂

10) Favorite Flower: All of them! But my absolute favorite currently is orchids.

Finally, here are my nominations for this blog award.

IndieBerries

North On Harper

Epicurean Escapism

Enjoy!

A vision for 2012

Tons of ideas. Zero motivation. Image by orkboi via Flickr

This is the first post of this year. Almost a month into 2012. Over a month after my previous post.

After spending most of 2010 posting four times a week, week after week, I kinda dried out in 2011. I didn’t run out of ideas. I ran out of steam. Out of motivation.

That was my story for 2011. Not just for my blog – for my life. I slowed down. Despite myself. Notwithstanding all my good intentions. I just didn’t have the will to do anything. But I want to change that.

The world is going to end in 2012, or so the Mayans said. I don’t believe that means the doom and gloom that Hollywood would have us believe. It means the end of a cycle. And the end of a cycle heralds the beginning of a new one. So this year, I intend to start anew. To begin afresh.

Investing in me. Image via Flickr

I’m not in a hurry. I want to do things slow – and get them right. So I’m going to take my time. To analyze the year that was. To examine where I am and determine where I want to be. To plan. To take one step, and then another and another. To start the journey. Because that’s what’s important. The destination will come. Or it won’t.

What’s important is moving forward. Learning. Growing. Challenging yourself. Being fresh.

As I analyze, learn, and grow, I will share some of my insights with you, my wonderful readers. So if you find yourself stuck in a rut, or in need of some motivation, stay tuned. The best way to keep up with posts – through my RSS feed.

If you’ve been stuck in a rut and broken free – do share your advice in the comments. I’m on the lookout for all the help and inspiration I can find!

There's no such thing as writer's block

Those in Peril by Wilbur Smith This weekend, I had an opportunity to attend a book launch by of one of my favorite authors – Wilbur Smith, who was in India to launch his latest book Those In Peril.

The author related a number of interesting experiences from his visit to India, including the fact that he loves the traffic! Baffling, isn’t it? Until he delivered his next line: It is just like a video game; except here, if you lose, you die.”

Having visited the country numerous times, he says he thinks India as “almost a neighbor, with just a little sea between us!” When asked if he would set one of his books in the country, he referred to The Quest, one of his ancient Egyptian novels, in which his character Taita visits India to gain knowledge and wisdom. However, to weave a love affair with the country in print, the way he does with Africa, he says he’d have to “spend a lot of time here, at least 50 years, but I fear I’m running out of time”. That just explains how much research he undertakes for all of his novels.

Wilbur Smith signing copies of his books for fans Image via Wikipedia

Remember those bushmen that feature so prominently in some of his novels? He wrote them in after meeting them briefly during an excursion in the African jungle.

In answer to a question about how he manages to write so many novels (33 and counting) and if he’s ever faced writer’s block, he said that a writer’s life requires a lot of discipline as it’s easy to get distracted and do inconsequential things around the house. As for writer’s block, he said: “There’s no such thing as writer’s block. If someone says they’re suffering from writer’s block, it’s most likely cowardice.”

Very true, isn’t it? And it applies to most situations in life where we feel blocked – more often that not, we’re just scared of the unknown.

All-in-all, it was a lovely evening, spent listening to the anecdotes of an author whose fans span generations!

Where I'm from

I am from the paint streaked canvas, from a box of fine Godiva chocolates and a flute of sweet rose wine.

I am from the sheltered world of Ashoka lined row houses, the smell of the jasmine flower wafting through the warm summer breeze.

I am from the river flowing fast and hard in the back yard, the huge Gulmohar tree whose branches lent themselves to day dreams.

I am from family dinners and knowledge seekers, from Mehrotras and Seths and Tandons.

I am from the young at heart, the rose tinted glasses never quite coming off. From instructions to be home before sundown and advice to always follow your heart.

I am from Shiva and Laxmi and the whole Hindu pantheon. From morning prayers and the sweet smell of incense floating in the air.

I am from a hospital by the sea in Singapore, descended from Aryans belonging to the verdant north Indian plains, from summer yellow lentils and golden wheat bread.

From the love and indulgence of my grandfather, the unquestioned love of my grandmother, the discipline imposed by my mother and the reasoning offered by my father.

I am from memories made all over the world as I sailed the seas with my parents, from piles of photographs stored in the cupboard and beautiful paintings lining the walls.

I am from dreams spun curled up at the window near my study table, from stories read and re-read on lazy summers spent belly down in the cool, green grass.

I am from friends real and imaginary, from a baby sister I fought with and for, from rebellions and reconciliations, from love, love, love.

This post is linked up with:

Mama Kat’s Losing It!

Preserved memories: On keeping a hand-written journal

Oh, the smell of fresh paper. The feel of the rough page beneath my hand. The sense of possibilities expanding before me, as I gathered together my thoughts, put pen to paper, and wrote.

Gone are those good old days of keeping a hand-written journal. Of carrying around a diary everywhere I went, so I was never stumped if inspiration struck, or if I saw a particularly good quote that I wanted to note down forever, or just wanted to ruminate.

Click image to purchase on Amazon

Gone are those days spent flicking through old journals. Looking at ticket stubs from that movie I went for on my first date. Of the restaurant bill from the last time I met up with my gang. The coffee spill that put so much more atmosphere into the story of me that I was writing.

All of that has been replaced with my iPhone. True, it’s much smaller and lighter than my diary. It’s with me everywhere I go. The chances of my forgetting it anywhere are slim. But it’s just not the same as my dear diary.

There are no pages to rifle through. No coffee spills to highlight passages of my life. No drunken scrawls that I cannot decipher the morning after. It’s too neat. Too structured. Too…cold.

Click image to purchase on Amazon

Maybe its time for me to go and buy myself a new diary. A leather-bound one this time, maybe. To doodle. To write. To keep for posterity. So that years later, when I am dust scattered over the earth, someone can come across it and say “Oh, so that’s what writing looked like in those ancient days!”

What do you think? Do you miss your hand-written diary? Or are you happy recording your thoughts digitally?

Guess where I'm at right now?

I’ll give you a lil hint…

Read this article here and you’ll get a lil idea.

Want another clue?

Recognize this building?

Any guesses?

I wish I had more time…

To smell the flowers

Feel the wind whisper through my hair

Capture more photographs

Create some art

Cook a few meals

But things have been so busy lately, that I am unable to make much use of the little time that I do have. So I’ve been using those snatched moments to read. It seems to be the only thing I am capable of doing these days…

How a book lover gets enticed into buying an e-reader

“I saw the Amazon Kindle today, one of the parents was reading on it. It’s amazing! It looks just like a book! I want to gift you one provided you stop buying so many books.”

My husband called me up in the middle of the day to tell me this. He never calls me during the day. Never.

I was so stunned, all I could manage was a weak

“Umm…ok….can we talk about this in the evening?”

Image via Wikipedia

Now, as those of you who read this blog regularly (love you guys!) know, I love physical books. I enjoy browsing through a bookstore, picking up books, going through the back cover and then randomly reading a few pages before deciding to buy it. I have a bookshelf at home that is ~~groaning under the weight of~~ filled with books ~~I’ve stuffed into it~~. And now, I am getting a new, bigger, fancier bookshelf built to hold my books and some doo-dads.

The husband, though, just wants the compulsive book buying to stop. Thus, the offer for the Kindle in exchange for no fewer books entering the house. And a tempting offer it is. I have been reading e-books on and off on the tiny screen of my iPhone. If I can read on that, an e-reader would be a breeze. But which one to choose?

Kindle, the dedicated e-reader or the cool kid on the block – the iPad? Much research later, I listed the pros and cons of each.

Cover of "Kindle Wireless Reading Device,...

Cover via Amazon

The Kindle’s e-ink technology makes it a strain-free way to read for hours; you can read it in direct sunlight but not in the dark; and the experimental browser allows you to connect to text-only sites on the internet (Wikipedia and Google) in black and white. However, it supports its own file format and transferring pdfs and epubs is painful (for me at least).

Image via Wikipedia

The iPad gives you the option of accessing e-books through iBooks, Kindle, Nook and many more apps; and it gives you a whole multimedia experience as well, allowing you to do a lot, lot more with it than just read. On the flip side, the brighter screen can be impossible to read in direct sunlight (not quite true, since I can bump up the brightness on my iPhone and read very clearly even in direct sunlight, thank you very much) and the battery life is lower compared to the Kindle.

Of course, there are the issues of weight and technical wizardry – and this is more of an apples to oranges comparison – but if you have the money to spare, the iPad definitely gives you more bang for your buck.

Plus, since I’m really not going to completely stop buying books ever, I may as well go for the other bells and whistles too, right? Which makes me lean (heavily) towards the iPad. Now, to ~~con~~ convince the husband to fork over the extra cash!

Happy father's day, daddy!

My father…he’s been my inspiration, my ideal…the man I can count on no matter what. He’s the one I run to when I’m hurt or happy, when I have a secret to share or need advice. He’s the one who will sit with me patiently, explaining whatever it was that I want to know. He allows me to use my judgement, to make mistakes and learn from them. He’s always there to hold my hand, to steer my course, to lend a shoulder, a word, a kiss.

So today when I browsed through PostSecret, I was saddened by the number of people who posted secrets saying they either were not in touch with their fathers or wished they had a different father. Whose fathers loved them less or were not a part of their lives.

Until I saw this secret:

Me too!

I love you, mom and dad.

And daddy, Happy Father’s Day! You’re still the one who can heal my hurt with a hug and a kiss…I love you!

There's something to be said about the smell of a book

Isn’t there? Though this may be the age of e-readers and e-books, which take up less space and enable you to have your library with you where ever you go, somehow, nothing beats the experience of reading a physical book. It’s weight. It’s smell. It’s heft. The sound of a page turning in the middle of the night. Of underlining passages. Scribbling notes in the margins. Displaying your collection on a bookshelf. Until it overflows. Spills over from the shelves. Having them piled up near your bed. On the coffee table. In the kitchen. Everywhere you look – a tantalizing cover looking back at you. Whispering its secrets into your ear.

Yes, there’s something to be said for a physical book.

I say this after reading e-books. Despite reading e-books. Which reminds me, I have to download one recommended by The Huffington Post. It’s free, it’s fast, it will travel all over the world with me.

But I will still enter bookstores. And walk out with a bag full of books under my arms.

Because…

There’s something to be said about the smell of a book…