The Bad Girls.

So I’ve been thinking. Why doesn’t Veronica (Deepika Padukone) from Cocktail get the guy in the end? Did that have something to do with Veronica being bold, brash, modern and very independent and Meera being more timid, mild and traditional? Well, to those who don’t want to read into it so much, and just go with the obvious – maybe it was just that Gautam (Saif Ali Khan) was genuinely in love with Meera, not Veronica. Well, that’s what I thought too – until I got around to thinking about other two-women-one-man movies.

Dil Toh Pagal Hai: Salwaar clad Pooja, skirt wearing Nisha

Let’s take DIl Toh Pagal Hai. We have Nisha (Karishma Kapoor), who is very forward, energetic, modern, and drinks, and we have Pooja (Madhuri Dixit), who is a little more withdrawn but friendly nevertheless and very traditional. Nisha wears jeans and tight tops, and skirts (I don’t think she ever wears any salwaars or such) while Pooja wears mostly salwaars, sarees and ghagras than jeans and tops. Who does Rahul (Shah Rukh Khan) fall for in the end? Pooja of course.

Jab Tak Hai Jaan: Meera with Samar

Jab Tak Hai Jaan: Akira with Samar

It’s almost like a hidden pattern I hadn’t noticed before. Take Jab Tak Hai Jaan. God-fearing, rather sheltered, mature Meera (Katrina Kaif) and the extremely loud, dominating, devil-may-care Akira (Anushka Sharma). Who does the guy fall for? Meera.

Ko: Renuka on the left, Saro on the right

And let’s not just make this Bollywood centeric. In the Tamil suspense thriller Ko, we have two different female characters – Saro (Piaa Bajpal) is again, very loud, wears mostly jeans and tees, is open with her feelings and frank while Renuka (Karthika Nair) is more traditional in her clothing most of the time and is more mature. No surprises as to whom the guy falls for. Renuka.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai: Tina, Rahul and pre-tranformation Anjali

Kuch Kuch Hota Hain  is pretty much the biggest example of this. Rahul (Shah Rukh Khan) falls for Tina, the more held-together, mature, “womanly” one, and not Anjali, his tom-boyish, loud, effervescent best friend. You may argue, saying that the main focus of the movie was Rahul and Anjali’s love story – but you see, that’s the very thing that amuses me. Rahul only realizes his love for Anjali years later, when she has transformed into well, a long-haired, saree-wearing, bhajan-singing, woman of his dreams.

It’s funny how stereotypes creep into our everyday lives (especially in a country like ours), and in ways we don’t even realize. I wonder what such a pattern indicates. The man always falls for the traditional woman, the “womanly” woman, the woman who is definitely not loud and forward about her feelings. These are the chosen women. The “good girls”. Not Veronica or Nisha or Saro or the earlier version of Anjali. The bad girls?

Even the body language is different, and it’s funny that there is an idea that one is “preferred” over the other

I’m sorry, but I don’t think having short hair, or being loud or frank or modern or any of those qualities make a woman less womanly or less attractive. I don’t think women should change who they are, and suppress a more vibrant and colourful side of themselves just to make themselves more attractive to a man (or to another woman, whichever way you swing). Be loud, be enthusiastic, rock that short hair – it doesn’t make you less of a woman. Having said that, if you’re genuinely soft-spoken, have long hair, and traditional – that’s great too! I think women and men everywhere should embrace whoever they are, and not try and squeeze themselves into stereotypical shapes.

Of coffees and cliches : A Starbucks Opinion

Starbucks came to India only in the year 2013, which is just about a couple of years back. Bangalore was the fourth city in the country (after Mumbai, Delhi and Pune) to get a Starbucks outlet, and that was in November. So it’s safe to say, It’s been around in Bangalore for only a little more than a year.

My friend, being a major caffeine addict, made sure we all visited it as soon as possible – which we did. And besides, having seen and heard about it in movies and on TV shows, I was curious to see what the hype was all about. My cousin dismissed it by saying “it’s just another coffee shop, why the big fuss?” – and I honestly wanted to know the exact same thing.

The first time (we went to the outlet on M G Road), I had an iced mocha or some thing along those lines, but frankly, I didn’t like it – I found it too watery. It wasn’t a ‘blended’ drink, it was just ‘iced’ – which meant ice cubes floating around, diluting your drink even more (which is great if you like that sort of thing, but not for me).But. I did have a sip of my friend’s Signature Hot Chocolate – and that was honestly the best hot chocolate I’d ever had! The first thing that popped into my mind as it melted on my tongue was that it tasted like liquefied  Lindt chocolate bars! I am an absolute chocoholic, and it catered to my taste buds perfectly -and the Signature Hot Chocolate is now one of my favourite drinks there.

The Sadashivnagar outlet

I really liked my first visit to the place, despite my drink being so watery, because I loved the ambiance and the laid back aura about it. From my second visit, I learnt what to order according to my taste, and I discovered that they had a whole range of fabulous and tempting options to chose from. I had a Java chip Frappuccino, one of their best selling drinks, and I simply loved it. It was thick and cold, and slightly grainy with just  the right amount of choco chips blended into it. This led to several more visits with a friend of mine who has a caffeine addiction and shares my love for this place. We go to Starbucks when we want to study, or to satisfy cravings, or to just talk (and also: free wifi. Need I say more?) – and this has become all the more convenient now because of the new outlet that opened up super close to our college (in Sadashivnagar)! This one is spacious, comfortable, and filled with sunlight through out the day, the staff are friendly and the food is great as always -plus there’s always soothing jazz playing all day.

Raspberry Truffle Mocha ❤

I have tried quite a lot of drinks – some seasonal ones too, like the Christmas special, which was something with praline, and today, a Raspberry Truffle Mocha (which was delicious and smooth, even though the raspberry flavour was a little overpowering). Another drink I enjoy a lot is the Green Tea Frappuccino, which I tasted first because of my friend, who also happens to be quite health conscious (not that this is even remotely healthy – what with all that whipped cream, but well, it creates the illusion). It has that ever so slight bitter green tea flavour that goes so well with the whipped cream, and I love that!

The food at Starbucks is great too – the muffins are huge, the brownies are sweet, the sandwiches are loaded with chicken and veggies, the bread is soft – the only flaw is the exorbitantly priced desserts. The cakes are expensive, but I have tasted their cherry chocolate cake (during one of their free sample testings) and it was quite delicious.

The GreenTea Frappuccino! 😀

I’ve heard a whole lot of opinions on Starbucks – it seems to have garnered quite a lot of attention for a coffee shop – but that’s probably because it’s been a part of so many movies and TV shows and memes and all of that. Some love it (like me). Some pretend they love it – just to fit in I guess? Some think it’s alright. And then there are people who think it’s the cliche-est of all cliches, so over-hyped and not worth it at all.

Here’s my opinion: It’s true, Starbucks is pretty over-hyped. How ever, I find myself attracted to the place because I genuinely love the drinks and food they serve, and most of all, the general atmosphere of the place. And also, I LOVE their whipped cream(which I eat with a spoon because I’m a little weird), and that’s saying something because I don’t really like cream.The few of my friends who are Americans, and also those who have been to Starbucks abroad have told me that the outlets there are more like drive-bys – people get their drinks, and head out. There’s not much place to sit and work, like there is here, in India.

There are only two things I wish could be improved – the pricing of the food items and also the spelling skills of the staff (yes, the number of times my friends’ names have been contorted into something else is hilarious!). So, at the risk of sounding cliche, I’m going to go ahead and say, yes, I love Starbucks! It is a great place to catch up with friends, or to get work done or to simply enjoy some time by yourself. 🙂

It’s a Small World after all!

My friends and I love food and discovering new places to eat. In the last (almost) two years of college, we’ve been to quite a few places around Bangalore, and I thought, why not blog about it?

So here’s my first restaurant review/food/eating-out blog, in what I hope will be a series of many more to come. 🙂

Today, we went to a little place near Ulsoor Lake called Smalley’s. My friend had discovered it (you can visit her blog here: https://aldaloreenblog.wordpress.com/) and was dying to take us there, so we finally decided to see what it was all about.

As soon as I opened the door, I realized why it was called ‘Smally’s’. It’s a really really small place, but with three floors connected by a steep, narrow metal staircase. The interiors were done up in wooden tones- wooden tables and small stools, walls hung with quirky photographs, sayings and caricatures (yes, even one of Miley Cyrus with her infamous tongue out poses side by side with one of Narendra Modi wearing spectacles reflecting lotuses), and one of the walls was made of glass, giving a nice overview of the busy road below. Glass bottles and jars with lights in them hung suspended from the low ceiling (a really low ceiling, so you’ve got to watch your head!) made me think that the place would look really pretty in the evenings. There was nice music playing through out (some might complain about it being a tad bit too loud, but we were fine with that).

The interiors at the first floor at Smalley’s

Since we went at a rather odd time – around three o clock in the afternoon – the place was a bit empty, and the third floor was not open yet. We chose a comfortable corner spot away from the huge glass wall, near some stray square cushions, and brushed through the menu. The place had pretty much everything – from steaks to salads, pizza, lasagna, pasta, burgers and even dishes like ‘Mangalorean chicken curry and rice’, for those who were in the mood for that.

We started off with something called ‘Lord of the Wings’ – basically, spicy chicken wings with a cooling dip. It came quite quickly, and was finished even more quickly, on account of us being very hungry, and it being super delicious. We only remembered to take a photo of the chicken wings after the plate was empty, hence no photo. The chicken was soft and juicy with a nice spicy and crispy marination. The mayo and garlic dip complimented it perfectly. The only qualms we had was that the quantity was a little less – five wings.

Macaroni with chicken and fusilli with chicken

For our main course, we ordered Chicken macaroni and chicken fusilli pastas (which arrived much, much earlier than the rest of the order) and two chicken lasagnas. The fusili pasta was cheesy and creamy, and really wonderful with big chunks of chicken. The macaroni was spicy and full of flavour, also with big chunks of chicken. The lasagnas looked quite small, but turned out to be satisfyingly filling, and very yummy indeed.

chicken lasagna

the already-dug-into New York baked cheesecake with blueberry topping

For dessert, we had Walnut brownies with marshmallows, chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream as well as New York baked cheesecake. Both were delicious – the marshmellows oozed out of the chocolatey brownies and the cheesecake was dense but melt-in-the-mouth, with a generous layer of blueberry topping (without which, it would not have tasted as good as it did) . While the brownies were enough to satisfy two people, the slice of cheesecake was quite small – also, for those who prefer more airy, light kinds, this is not for you (I like my cheesecakes slightly dense and thick).

brownies, marshmallows, chocolate sauce, vanilla ice cream and all sorts of goodness!

We thoroughly enjoyed the lunch – made even more enjoyable perhaps, because we were so darned hungry when we came. The place was comfortable, the service was good, the food looked really appetizing and tasted great – plus, it was light on our pockets too (it was all under thousand five hundred rupees)! We’ll definitely be visiting Smalley’s again. 😀

Smally’s Resto Bar:

Address: LG09, Sky Walk 5/1, Assaye Road, Bengaluru, Karnataka 560008

Phone:074067 62559

Open from 11 am to 11 pm

For all of India’s Daughters.

Yesterday, the BBC released a documentary film recording the events of the gang rape of a young girl that happened on the 16th of December, 2012, in India’s national capital, Delhi. It included never-before-seen interviews with the victim’s parents as well as the rapists’ family and friends. It also included the mass protests that shook the country after the incident. They called this documentary ‘India’s Daughter’.

Today, the government of India banned the documentary, declaring it “a very sensitive issue” – only increasing the public attention it had been receiving.

 

As I watched the documentary, I went through a series of emotions – mostly anger, disgust and then finally, heart break (which I did not expect). Predominantly, I felt a rage – an explicit, murderous and infuriating rage – at the people who did those inhuman things to her and more so, the people who had the audacity and the sick mentality to actually support and justify such atrocities. It was a gang rape, a brutal, heinous crime against a young girl, a college student. It was so barbaric that the organs in her body were destroyed, never to recover again. Her intestines trailed out of her, she was beaten and bitten, and had an iron rod thrust into her. After this treatment, she was thrown out, naked and bleeding, along with her friend (who was also battered and bruised), on the roadside. Even the most dangerous criminals have not been subject to such barbaric acts for their crimes of murder, trafficking, robbery – but it is an absolutely fitting and deserving punishment for a girl who is out late in the night, to watch a movie with a male friend. How, I repeat – HOW – and in which sick, twisted universe is this justified? Why would anyone try and justify something like this?

And no – do not bring in Indian “culture”. Like Chimamanda Adiche said, “Culture does not make people. People make culture.” It is people like these, who blame “culture” for obviously wrong things, that defile our country’s culture. Culture is constantly changing. Going out at a certain time of the day or night, being able to wear what one wants, and being with members of the opposite sex is not  a crime. Trying to curb that, or even something as atrocious as justifying rape for something like that – it just boggles my mind, the immense and utter stupidity of it all. Words cannot describe my infinite disgust and fury towards the narrow-minded mentality of the two lawyers who defended the rapists – who, in the first place, had admitted to their crimes. The two lawyers seem to be of a different, and what seems to be a more misogynous frame of mind – one of them even claiming that he would punish his sister or daughter if she ever had a pre-marital sexual relationship by burning them alive. The shocking truth is that such mentality does run through the minds of a scarily large number of people, and it is this that is the ultimate enemy. What’s more disturbing is that it runs through the minds of women as well!

I had decided, half-way through the documentary, that this would be an angry blog post, a rant, a vent for my anger. But I never thought I’d be left feeling so broken-hearted, so drained of all the fury, at the end. The last words Jyothi (the victim) said to her mother, before she succumbed to her brutal injuries in the hospital were – “Sorry Mummy. I gave you so much trouble. I am sorry.” More than anything else, this shattered me into a thousand pieces, because at that moment I realized that that would’ve been the exact same thing I would have wanted to tell my own mother, had I been in that position. And I knew this truth, deep in my heart, because I am an Indian girl, and it would take more than an education and the most amazing parents in the world to rid me of the guilt of feeling like a burden.

Jyothi felt guilty – even after watching an entire nation stand up for her, and fight for her and give her the title “Nirbhaya” (which mean “the brave one” or “without fear” or “courageous”) – she felt guilty for all the trouble she had caused. Only except, it wasn’t she who caused all this trouble, it was the group of men who decided to rape her.

And this exactly is the ultimate enemy.

Rape is not the fault of the victim. It is the fault of the rapist. Even after the number of times this has been said, it still has not sunk into the mindsets of people yet. Only when that happens, will there be any semblance of change in the country. And right now, change is what this country desperately needs.

The Penis in Public.

One of my friends once said, “It’s funny how in India it’s okay to piss in public, but not okay to kiss in public.” And that, I feel, is Indian mentality summed up in just one sentence. A movement like the Kiss of Love campaign (in which people gather on the streets and kiss each other) received a raging, vehement opposition from people claiming “it isn’t part of Indian culture” – while something like, oh I don’t know, whipping your dick out in public and urinating is just considered normal – for both the people who do it, and the people who see it. For example, if you’re going someplace by an autorickshaw (or any vehicle for that matter) in almost any part of India, this would be your typical view – cars, buses, scooters, bikes, the occasional cycle, pedestrians, shops, trees, a man peeing, others not bothering, you know, that sort of thing.

So a couple of days ago, my cousin and uncle left me to wait in the car while they got out to get something. The car was parked in front of a compound wall. In that short span of about ten minutes, five men – five – stopped to urinate in front of that wall, one after the other. Yes, I counted, because it amused and shocked me – like there was some invisible sign that read “Public Toilet”, that only men could read, one after the other stopped there to urinate.  And there I was, in my front row seat, trying to look anywhere but there, trying to think about cupcakes and puppies to distract myself from those utterly disgusting men with zero sense of self-respect (but to no avail). The feeling that completely engulfed me was revulsion – what have we come to? Isn’t it shameful? How is it that a girl wearing shorts receives disapproving, judgemental glares for showing her legs in public, but a man doesn’t, for showing his penis (even if it was just for a couple of minutes – for those who want to argue about the time factor)? It is a public place, a main road, for screaming out loud!

As it got harder and harder to ignore the idiots who came to relieve themselves thus publicly, I wondered if I should get out and make my presence known – would they be too embarrassed to continue? Or maybe I could imitate the girl in that YouTube video and sit down and pretend to pee next to them – to give them a taste of their own medicine and see how they react to that. Or maybe I could roll down my window and yell at them to stop?

And I’m ashamed, because I did none of those things. I just sat there, repulsed, angry and frustrated with myself, for not doing anything to stop it. I was alone, my cousin and uncle were nowhere in sight, and it wasn’t even a familiar place. There could be the positive reaction, the dream reaction, if you will – they would stop, be embarrassed, learn their lesson and be so consumed with shame that they would never pee in public again. And then there could be the negative reaction – this ranged from them ignoring me to eve teasing to flashing to maybe even rape, who knew?  Which is why I thought a billion times about doing anything to stop it. And finally didn’t.

And so the problem persists, because the people who do it, do it. And the people who see it, just see it. Nobody stops it. I think its time we all woke up to this. Peeing in public is not only disrespectful to yourself and the others around you, it reflects poor character, self-control and a total lack of hygiene. If you are someone who does this – be ashamed of yourself, and never do it again. If you are someone who has seen it, but not raised your voice against it (like me) – make sure you try to next time.

Stop the Hate!

It has been ages since I posted, but that was because I had my end semester examinations going on. Now that I have my holidays, I had enough time to get around the internet, update myself on the the things that are trending now. You know, these really ground-breaking, intelligent things that are so important that almost everyone on the internet knows about them – like ALex from Target and About a week ago, and oh, this one is the best – ‘A potato flew around my room’. If you don’t know what these terms refer to, Google them.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate all of this, but it just amuses me as to how such things grab the attention of over a million people. The human race is really weird. But having said that, Alex from Target IS pretty cute – and he certainly doesn’t deserve all the hate he’s getting for “not earning his fame” or whatever. And Bobby Shmurda’s epic dance moves are definitely something, and personally, I think the song is super catchy. (I’m not going to comment on ‘A potato flew around my room’ I don’t even know why it’s popular).
So the past couple of days have been spent watching video after video on YouTube. And while waiting for the video to load (thanks to slow wifi), I made a habit of scrolling through the comments below. It was utterly shocking to see how much hate – and I mean the filthy, dirty, disrespectful kind of HATE – was out there, how much racism, how much sexism and how many rude things were said that were unwarranted and uncalled for. The other thing that hit me was how painfully IGNORANT many of these comments were.

There are people saying they hate black people because all black people are violent, there are people who say being homosexual is wrong and is a sin, then there are people saying they hate Americans because they just do – and then there are people who say women are, and I quote – “literal sex toys and nothing else” and are just useful for reproducing. And how can one forget the endless arguments about how one religion is utter non-sense, and the other is better than the rest. And then, there are comments that oppose these of course, but there are also comments that defend these hate comments.

What irritates me the most is how ignorant most of these comments are, and how narrow-minded. I think people need to WAKE UP and see that all people are people, after all, that them being of different colours or races or sexualities or genders or religion does not change the fact that we’re all human, one and the same. No one is superior to the other. Which religion a person practices and what skin colour he or she has, or who he or she sleeps with or even how many people he or she sleeps with is NOBODY’S business. No one has the right to judge anybody else – unless they have committed some heinous crime, like kill a person or rape someone.

There is a whole other set of people who just don’t even need a reason to hate. I really feel sorry for most YouTubers out there, and hats off to their courage to put up videos out there, but some comments are downright MEAN. For no reason, really.

And what lovely language.

Pretty much every hate comment has beautiful language, wonderful grammar and rich vocabulary, as seen above. And it is sad to say, some well-educated people too – you can make out by the way their comments read – seem to be really really narrow-minded. Like, has education done nothing to you? Has it not opened your mind a little bit?

I understand when people may have certain (not necessarily positive) opinions about some things – which they can go ahead and express, so long as they understand that it isn’t always right according to everybody. To each his own. It surprises me why there is SO much, like immense, gigantic amounts of hate in the virtual world. Of course, there’s a lot of positive and friendly comments too, but the aggression in the negative ones is just over whelming. Internet hate is real, and the sad thing is, it doesn’t look like it’s going to go away – so all one can do is shake their head and ignore it.The change should begin within us – to make a conscious effort to at least be polite to each other, if not respect one another.

 

Infinite.

Blue velvet night
Starshine and moonlight
Endless ocean
Tireless, whispering waves
Spirit free, soaring,
Fly.
How I yearn and yearn
to feel Infinite.

 

Solitude.

The past two days were pleasant and calming, just what I needed after a weekend of hell. I really, really did not enjoy last weekend – travelling about 200 kms up and down cramped in a small car bursting with four other people, forced to eat food that I didn’t want to eat, being surrounded by a whole lot of people I didn’t know at all, or didn’t like at all, and craving, just craving for my mum’s home cooked meals was not how I thought I’d spend the weekend. Which is why, the past two days, I’ve made a conscious effort to relax myself, my exhausted body and my very upset mind.

Yesterday, I woke up early enough for college (I had my psychology practical exam that afternoon). There is a small, cosy café called Desserted right opposite college, and that’s where I headed after having my bath and getting dressed. I was the first customer that morning, but since I came there very, very often, I was quite comfortable by myself. Also, I was craving some alone time after my super-crowded weekend. I ordered myself a nice breakfast – cheese omelette, potato fries and lightly toasted bread, with a cup of cooling green tea. The omelette was oozing with cheese, and the fries hot and crunchy and the green tea was absolutely amazing. I opened my books, and studied as I ate my breakfast, savouring everything. Savouring every bite of food I had, every sip of green tea, and every moment I was there, alone by myself, and doing my own thing.

The day went on, and I met my friends, and gave my practical exam, and left for home. I watched Casablanca – because I have suddenly developed an interest in watching movies. I made myself buttered toast with honey for dinner. And then I went to bed.

This morning, I was woken up by my friends asking me to meet them at Starbucks. I had a long, hot bath, complete with perfumed body wash and light music in the background. I felt like dressing up today, for no reason really, and I went ahead and put on my nicest clothes and kajal and lip gloss.

At Starbucks, I was about to order my favourite drink there as usual – a signature hot chocolate – but I decided to try something else today. I had a java chip Frappuccino with hazelnut syrup and it was super good. My friend had a white chocolate mocha topped with caramel syrup, which was delicious too. We talked about a whole lot of things, and even got free samples of hot chocolate, which they were testing out, and which turned out to be quite delicious.  After my friends left, I walked down along Brigade Road and I realized that it was the first time I had ever walked through Brigade Road alone. And I know it was such a small thing, but it made me feel so happy. Being by myself made me so happy, because that was just what I needed right then. I decided to drop into the small, almost hidden bookshop I was very fond of, to see if they had Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. They did, but it exceeded my budget, so I decided to ask my dad buy it for me when he was here next, or when I went back home to Chennai next.

I caught an autorikshaw home, and changed into my pyjamas. And here I am, writing this post. It probably recounts two very uneventful, almost boring days of my life. But the reason it’s up here is because I don’t want to forget how free I felt these two days. How free, independent and content with myself. I want to do this more often, and explore more. And when I start earning, I want to be able to go anywhere, and spend my time doing what I felt like doing that day. Solitude, of the right kind, and in the right amounts is a blessing, a beautiful thing indeed.

The Old Man and his Memory Box

My grandfather and his forty year old projector box

My grandfather (my mother’s father) is one of my biggest role models in life. He was born into a very poor and low-caste family, but went on to become one of the city’s best and most respected pediatric surgeons. He is now eighty three years old, and retired.

In the year of 1970, my grandfather went to London for further studies (I think he went to King’s College, although I’m not too sure), and then on a trip to some other countries in Europe. He brought back home, of all things, a small projector and a box of slides. My mother told me how my grandfather would switch off all the lights at night, and switch on the projector, and show them pictures of London and Barcelona and all the other beautiful places he’d been to. The cathedrals of sunny Barcelona and the old, Victorian-style buildings at King’s, they saw it all, large as life, right on the very wall of their living room. It was quite magical.

In this day and age, we have much better technology, and way better projectors, of course, but something about the little old box really fascinated me. Now although I’m not all that very tech-savvy, I do appreciate the marvels of modern day technology. We’ve advanced to a period in time when nothing seems impossible, and everything just a flick of a finger or a click of a button away. But there was something about that small metal box, that lit up inside and showed us the world, that was quite enchanting. Seeing my usually calm and quiet grandfather fuss over this little metal box showed me the kind of memories it held.

My mother happened to mention it today (as she had come down to visit me), and he realized he’d forgotten about his old projector, and made it a point to get it out. He fussed over it and scolded my baby cousin when she came too close to it (he never scolds her- or anybody for that matter), and asked me to draw the curtains so the room would get just a bit darker (it was 12 in the afternoon). He switched on the projector and a yellow light blinked to life inside it, and it positively heated up with the amount of memories that were imprisoned within, waiting to be let out. He tweaked this and adjusted that, and took out the box of slides.

. 

It was a 35 mm H&G slide projector, Made In Japan. I don’t know anything about projectors, but this was what was written on it. I don’t even know if it is supposed to be a high-end model or not. Whatever it is, it worked even after so many, many years, and that’s pretty cool, I think. It must be about forty or so years old. Almost half a century old.

 

The pictures were not all that clear – and also, the room was not dark enough, but it was a delight to see them anyway. I kept hovering about, clicking pictures, which made my grandfather get quite irritated with me (he has no idea that pictures of him and his beloved projector are up here), but I clicked away anyway. We saw some of the slides of London and Barcelona and Thailand and also some childhood photos of my mother and her siblings, after much adjusting to get a somewhat sharp picture.

One of the many boxes of slides

Some of the slides all laid out

So that was how I spent my afternoon today, and I thought it’d make for a very nice blog post, and so here it is. A post about my grandfather, and his magical little box full of memories. 🙂

Play – A Poem

“Let me play with you.” he said,

She looked at him and smiled.

“Why yes, of course, I’ll get my dolls-“

“You are my beautiful little doll,”

he said, and wound his hands

around her in an iron grip.

“But what are we playing, at this time?”

Playing without playthings.

But he is looking, looking – at his

plaything.

And then he began to play with her

a game she didn’t know,

So she tried to smile, she tried to laugh

But she didn’t understand why anyone

would ever treat their doll this way.

On television she’d seen

the grown ups play like this

And so she asked him if

this was a game he and Grandma played?

“Because if it is, I’d rather you played with her instead-“

But he told her not to feel too bad,

because it was a normal game to play,

He told her it was because he loved her

that he played with her this way.

“But stop, I don’t wan’t to play,” she said

He stopped, he smiled, then said,

“I’m too old to play with you anyway.”