I have always grown to believe the best place to live in the entire world is Madras(well, ok, now chennai). The only other place I would temporarily live is Paris, France. Even here, I am always looking for a city that gives the "Madras" feeling. I have found that only in Austin, TX. When I say "Madras" feeling, I don't mean tons of Indians, yapping around AND yada yada. I mean a city, neither too big that you are eternally lost (given how sharp I am with directions), nor too small that on a romantic drive, you are already out of city limits. A place that has a little of this, a little of that, a dash of east and west influence, a congregation of youthful color and elderly wisdom.
People have always scorned, scoffed at me when I have commented or mentioned that I am moving back to Madras in 4 to 5 years.This explains
ok boss calling, be back in a bit
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
isn't it strange?
that there isn't any coverage of the visit of our PM? None of the nationals here in the US seem to talk about it as much as I think it should. I mean, cmon! do they even realize how much they are dependent on India? When they can send ething offshore and cut costs, can't they pay attention when the most important decision maker of that country comes over? Have they any idea how much India can impact their economy by simple change to policies? and heck, MS was talking to Infosys..God save!
bad workman..
blames his tools? Coming to think of it, I don't quite agree with that saying. I find that:
1. a sharper pencil means more precise thoughts and writing
2. a finer pen gives better flow
A bad tool results in a so-so work, even if the workman is the best pro around.
ok, tons of work today..searching for my sharp tools..
1. a sharper pencil means more precise thoughts and writing
2. a finer pen gives better flow
A bad tool results in a so-so work, even if the workman is the best pro around.
ok, tons of work today..searching for my sharp tools..
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
butter fingers!
Been dropping everything since morning. I realize the more I try to be careful, the more buttery my fingers get. I have always annoyed my roomies while trying to be quiet in the morning. I would carefully remove the coffee mug from the cupboard and thatz exactly when it would hit more mugs and all of them would fall on the microwave. The microwave would have had a plate sitting on top of it, carefully balanced and with the force of the mugs falling, this plate would tilt over and land crash on the floor while at the same time, the cereal bowl in the microwave would have completed its tenure and would be screaming. Then, I face the glare from my half asleep, half awake, 1.25 drowsy eyed roomies..This morning, something different, I dropped my power cord on my feet (ouch!), dropped the soap while showering, dropped the towel into the dustbin(!), dropped my hotel card while entering the elevator (a flat one as flat as it can get to make picking it up quite an experience), dropped my sun glasses. Thanking the heavens for reaching work safely, I head out for my breakfast, smiling and nodding g'morns, stylishly picked up cereals, filled my cup with granola..and clash, clatter, platter,sppillll..the entire cafeteria was staring at me..hehehee, wonder what more I am going to drop for today..it has just started!
Monday, July 18, 2005
guess what I found?
While digging through my old files in my flash drive, see what I found:
"and there is one last hope. One last time when I meet him, I will see in his eyes the truth. Was it hatred or simple love that was so much responsible for everything that happened. Was it ego or confusion that can be blamed for every pause in his words, every silence in my response. Was I reading too much or missing too much? Why can't I simply put my pen down and call him a friend, dust my hands and forget this relationship?"
I am trying to think why I wrote this, which song inspired me or was it someone?...for now, I am just smiling at it :).
"and there is one last hope. One last time when I meet him, I will see in his eyes the truth. Was it hatred or simple love that was so much responsible for everything that happened. Was it ego or confusion that can be blamed for every pause in his words, every silence in my response. Was I reading too much or missing too much? Why can't I simply put my pen down and call him a friend, dust my hands and forget this relationship?"
I am trying to think why I wrote this, which song inspired me or was it someone?...for now, I am just smiling at it :).
Sunday, July 17, 2005
weekend whoosh
It seems like my flight landed in ATL about 30 mins ago. Got out and quickly picked my luggage, thatz all I seem to remember..and voila! it seems it is sunday today (or so they tell me) and in another few hours, I will again hear the announcement for my flight! Wow! what happened to this weekend..it jus seemed to whoosh by!