Monday, January 29, 2007

Tagged by Hillgrandmom

This tag on My Style came from Hillgrandmom.

Here's mine:

Style- Appearance

I like to appear simple, smart and trendy but I would not like to be attired in something that doesn't suit me even if it is the current rage. When I am out shopping, you would spot me in jeans or salwaars, which are comfortable and hassle-free. In the office, it would be formal suits and at parties, it would be sarees any day. I have a collection of accessories to go with my dresses. Again it would be different for office and party wear. For office wear I use simple jewellery. For parties, it would be precious stone sets that are set in gold or silver to go with my sarees.

Style – Home Interiors

A house is built of bricks and stones; it becomes a home when you do the interiors in such a way that it gives you a sense of comfort, peace and tranquility and imparts a welcoming feeling to the guests you entertain. I prefer traditional style interiors with a homey, subtle, non-jarring, non-intimidating ambience. A nice and cozy place where you can snuggle into your comfy chair after a hectic day in the office; a quiet and comfortable retreat where the family members get recharged to go out and meet their day to day challenges – that's the magic of traditional interiors. Being a Libran, I love to be surrounded by beautiful objects. I like collecting antiques. I feel that each ancient object has a unique story to tell about the people who have used it back then.

Style – Food

I love home-made food, preferably Indian. But to break the monotony, we do dine out whenever possible. At such times we try out various cuisines – Chinese, Arabic, Italian, Mexican, whatever!

Style – Relationships

My family consists of my husband, my daughter and myself but back home in India we have large extended families on both sides. I look upon the family as my vital support system. I believe in togetherness but at the same time each member needs his or her own breathing space. Mutual love and respect are the buzzwords which bind our family together. We love to go out with friends and their families whenever we get some time off from our busy schedules.

Friday, January 26, 2007

In Kalimpong ...

All day, the colors had been those of dusk, mist moving like a water crea­ture across the great flanks of mountains possessed of ocean shadows and depths. Briefly visible above the vapor, Kanchenjunga was a far peak whittled out of ice, gathering the last of the light, a plume of snow blown high by the storms at its summit.

Sai, sitting on the veranda, was reading an article about giant squid in an old National Geographic. Every now and then she looked up at Kanchenjunga, observed its wizard phosphorescence with a shiver. The judge sat at the far corner with his chessboard, playing against himself. Stuffed under his chair where she felt safe was Mutt the dog, snoring gently in her sleep. A single bald lightbulb dangled on a wire above. It was cold, but inside the house, it was still colder, the dark, the freeze, con­tained by stone walls several feet deep.

Here, at the back, inside the cavernous kitchen, was the cook, trying to light the damp wood. He fingered the kindling gingerly for fear of the community of scorpions living, loving, reproducing in the pile. Once he’d found a mother, plump with poison, fourteen babies on her back.

Eventually, the fire caught and he placed his kettle on top, as bat­tered, as encrusted as something dug up by an archeological team, and waited for it to boil. The walls were singed and sodden, garlic hung by muddy stems from the charred beams, thickets of soot clumped batlike upon the ceiling. The flame cast a mosaic of shiny orange across the cook’s face, and his top half grew hot, but a mean gust tortured his arthritic knees.

Up through the chimney and out, the smoke mingled with the mist that was gathering speed, sweeping in thicker and thicker, obscuring things in parts—half a hill, then the other half. The trees turned into silhouettes, loomed forth, were submerged again. Gradually the vapor replaced everything with itself, solid objects with shadow, and nothing remained that did not seem molded from or inspired by it. Sai’s breath flew from her nostrils in drifts, and the diagram of a giant squid constructed from scraps of information, scientists’ dreams, sank entirely into the murk.

Kiran Desai (The Inheritance of Loss, Booker Prize Winner 2006)

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Silent Sorrow

Every time I close my eyes I see those valleys full of magic and dignity and those mountains covered with glory and greatness trying to reach the sky. Every time I shut my ears to the clamour of the city I hear the murmur of the rivulets and the rustling of the branches. All those beauties which I speak of now and which I long to see, as a child longs for his mother's breast, wounded my spirit, imprisoned in the darkness of youth, as a falcon suffers in its cage when it sees a flock of birds flying freely in the spacious sky. Those valleys and hills fired my imagination, but bitter thoughts wove round my heart a net of hopelessness.

Every time I went to the fields I returned disappointed, without understanding the cause of my disappointment. Every time I looked at the grey sky I felt my heart contract. Every time I heard the singing of the birds and babbling of the spring I suffered without understanding the reason for my suffering. It is said that unsophistication makes a man empty and that emptiness makes him carefree. It may be true among those who were born dead and who exist like frozen corpses; but the sensitive boy who feels much and knows little is the most unfortunate creature under the sun, because he is torn by two forces. the first force elevates him and shows him the beauty of existence through a cloud of dreams; the second ties him down to the earth and fills his eyes with dust and overpowers him with fears and darkness.

Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow. Solitude is the ally of sorrow as well as a companion of spiritual exaltation.

- Kahlil Gibran (Broken Wings)

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Happy 2007

During the new year may you have...
Enough happiness to keep you sweet.
Enough trials to keep you strong.
Enough sorrow to keep you human.
Enough hope to keep you happy.
Enough failure to keep you humble.
Enough success to keep you eager.
Enough friends to give you comfort.
Enough wealth to meet your needs.
Enough enthusiasm to make you look forward to tomorrow.
Enough determination to make each day better than the day before.