www.ashatampa.com

Hi folks! :o)

I've always dreamed of having my own domain at www.ashatampa.com, so when I spotted a domain recently at 50% off, I grabbed the chance, heh. For the next one year, I will be posting on that space, so please follow my scribblings there; you can add me to your Google Reader.

Cheers,
Asha

November Rain

Somehow, rain always makes me feel like curling up in a chair by the window, with a cup of coffee in hand, and an old book; walking in the rain was something I never even considered doing. A couple of days ago, when it started raining, I decided to forgo my usual cuppa and head out for a walk. It was dusk - that time of the day when people like to snuggle on their couches with the TV remote.

I had barely walked a few steps when I saw these kids squatting by a small pool the rain had made, paper boats in hand. I was hit almost immediately by a wave of nostalgia; my own childhood, the days of getting drenched in the rain oblivious to the screams, rants and threats of my parents; running down the street with friends, following eagerly the paths of our paper boats meandering their way through the rivulets of rain.

I realized that as I grew up I slowly forgot to appreciate life's smaller joys; the joys that made my entire childhood so much more memorable. The joy of running home after school at full speed, with that lightness in the heart that another day of lessons was finally over. The joy of playing in the street with other brats, oblivious to passers-by, oblivious to the dirt, oblivious to time, oblivious to everything. The joy when my gran used to make my favorite dish without my asking, and the joy that came when I knew I could have as much as I wanted to :D The joy of finding a sparrow's nest right inside the house, and accepting those tiny birds as a part of the family; the joy of making stupid faces and shouting at the top of my voice (as loudly as my lungs would allow it) just for the heck of it, knowing full well that none in the family would even bat an eyelid ;-)

I wonder how many of these joys are possible now without raising eyebrows. I hope as we grow older we appreciate these tiny experiences, maybe take a few moments out of our day to remember them, and tell ourselves that life is not that serious after all. It's just as serious as we want it to be.

Steig Larsson

I've started reading The Millenium Trilogy. Am still on the first book, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but I'm hoping to complete it soon, maybe this weekend. Review later this week :-)

Deleted. Without second thoughts.

It's funny how soon my preferences change, within a matter of weeks, no less...

Before you start wondering what on earth I am talking about, I read the Twilight series a couple of months back. Understandably, I was completely smitten; rolled up my sleeves and started writing a post extolling all the reasons why the series was a must-read. I never got to completing that post; maybe just a para or two, before I just saved the draft and moved on. Now, this happened maybe a month back. A few minutes ago, I was cleaning up my drafts, and I did not even think twice before selecting that particular post and clicking on the Delete button. Not even a tinge of regret that something which I liked so much, prodded so many people into reading, was pushed so far back into the recesses of my mind that I do not even feel anything for it anymore.

What does this mean, I wonder? This sudden change in likes and dislikes? Does this happen to any of you? This soon, I mean.

Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol - Completely lost

Barring Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown has delivered fairly unimpressive work. Couldn't say no to The Lost Symbol after it was literally handed to me on a platter - my cousin had it lying around the house when I went visiting over the weekend. Though painfully lengthy, the book got off to a good start. Suspense built up after 50-odd pages, and I started reading it in earnest. After all, the book starred Robert Langdon, and gotta admit, I find such historical suspenses set in modern times interesting.

The story begins with Prof. Langdon being called to Washington D.C., apparently by his good friend and mentor, Peter Solomon. What starts as an innocent invitation to give a lecture soon turns into a nightmare, with Peter Solomon's severed hand greeting our friend Robert Langdon in the lecture room. Yeah, spooky. A series of horrifying events follow, with Peter's sis Katherine Solomon also in the fray, and a weird, bald, tattooed man (animal is the only word for him) trying his best to kill everybody in sight.

What made me want to hurl the book at a wall towards the end was its glaring plot; maybe, if it were your first book, you might not be able to guess it, but the answer stares at you right in the face. Dan Brown obviously thought of his readers as fools. It's also a damn weak plot; hard to believe so much stuff was done, so many people were killed, for such a stupid reason. There is no feel-good factor once you reach the end; just a slight headache coupled with painful eyes, like in my case.

What's in a name? Lots!

What the hell is in a name, Shakespeare might have said.

I disagree, having spent more than three hours searching a name for my new blog. It was like my blog was jinxed; every single darn name I tried was already taken. In my desperation I started trying out song names - no luck. Even www.noname.blogspot.com was taken, for Chrissakes! Cmon! And even more exasperating was the fact that many of these blogs seemed to have been started on a spurt of creativity, and then pushed back into the recesses of the blogger's minds. Lot many had just a single post on em, dating back to as far as 2001. In blogging terms, they might as well have been created during the B.C. period!

I had planned on starting a blog about interesting things happening in the digital world - could be anything, ranging from appealing, out-of-the-box websites, to start-ups, to any interesting news, whatever. I most especially did not want my name in the URL. Finally, after a lot of head banging, cursing, contemplative minutes later I hit on this - kreativeblitzkrieg.

Yeah, I know, it cant get worse than this one. So please, guys, if you've got any suggestions, do let me know. Mucho appreciated.

Smokey Smokersons

No, this is not some new hookah or cigar joint. Am talking about the dreaded smoke emitting, fume spitting, soot enveloped vehicles rampant on the streets of Hyderabad. God forbid that you get stuck behind one such monster during rush hour; you might end up choking, suffocating, and cursing your bike, due to which you are being made to endure such torture. It's a damn wonder why no action is ever, ever taken against these poisons. The traffic police obligingly stop every other person on a bike and demand to see each and every document under the sun (including our insurance papers, dammit!) failing which they subtly ask for a couple of hundred bucks. Catch hold of these bozos, for a change!

My eyes are almost always red-rimmed by the time I reach office, triggering rumors that I might be a crybaby. Pssst, I bet she's the sort who's been crying since childhood about not going to school, college, and now, the office, heh. No, guys! Not me! Anyways, I have no idea whether such constant exposure to the smoke might affect my eyes; I know for sure it's affecting my nerves. I bite back all the dirty swears that rise to my lips when I get a gust of thick black smoke blown directly into my face. And go home fuming. No wonder I'm not able to get any fairer, heh. I wish to God there was some solution to this; sadly, apart from moving permanently to a village that knows only bullock carts, I dont see any light on the horizon.