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James Bond Stamps To Be Issued

South Asians Like Their Leaders Dead

A Side Of Wi-Fi

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'I cannot believe this dufur is Vani Dutta's sister!' The Hindi exercise copy came smashing down on my head.

'I seriously am telling you Mrs Dutta - Deepti cannot be Vani Dutta's sister! ' Mrs Tully's baleful look made my seven year old knees knock. I knew there was another whacking due on reaching home. My parents and teachers couldn't believe I was so different from my sister, she was an all rounder whereas I barely managed to pass.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I watched the little boy from Aamir Khan's movie listen to the same words - I cannot believe Ishaan is Yuhaan Awasthi's brother.

Though I did not suffer from dyslexia, I was a slow learner to begin with, every little thing took me time to understand. My mind like Ishaan's wandered; I liked to draw, play and write little Noddy stories. The world we grew up in didn't have place for dreamers as Aamir Khan said in the movie - Everyone wants their kids to grow up doctors, engineers or MBAs.

My mother used the same lines on me as did Ishaan's mother - Your friends will move ahead and you will be left behind.

The fear of failure always dogged my footsteps and I had no concept of self esteem. Anger was my defensive mechanism and suicidal thoughts showed me easy escape routes from life.

Aamir Khan's movie- Taare Zameen Par took me back to my own childhood. It was as if Ishaan was me, a little child lost despite having loving parents and studying in the best school. His anger was palpable, his acting heart-wrenching and his alienation from the world undeniable. The movie was raw and hard to face. The kind of mental abuse our children go through in the educational system is laid out for us to see in its ugly deformity and yet, while dealing with such serious topics the movie is fast paced and makes us laugh at Ishaan's antics in the first half of the movie.

As a director, Aamir Khan did an extraordinary job making the movie potential Oscar material. While the movies Lagaan and Rang De Basanti had social messages,  what made this movie more believable was the authentic projection of a regular family and their problems, whereas the other movies were more Bollywood-like.

Tributes were also paid to Hogwarts when the little alphabet spiders crawled through the window and under Ishaan's collar. One can't help but feel the stark difference between Harry's sense of finding home and Ishaan's total breakdown in their boarding schools. One got a sense of the movie being a cross between Rain Man and Pink Floyd's The Wall. Though giving tributes to movies seems to be the 'in' thing both in Hollywood and Bollywood. nevertheless the use of animation in the movie was both amusing and endearing.

Taare Zameen Par is by far the best movie of 2007 and I can see Aamir Khan emerging as the new Spielberg of India. The absentee father role that seems to be a central theme in most of Spielberg's films seems to be a similar theme in Aamir's movie as seen in the relationship between Aamir Khan who as the temporary art teacher Ram Shankar Nikumbh takes Ishaan under his wing and helps him turn around whereas his father fails to do so .

The songs of the movie are also pleasing and I couldn't help but notice references to Pink Floyd's songs. This is one movie I can watch again and still find subtle sub texts that have been woven into the movie.

Hopefully Aamir's next movie Ghajini which is to be released in the coming year would be equally enthralling

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We mourn the death of one of our own. She maybe a sister who died across the border but to us she was a fearless feminist who loved her country and died a martyr leaving behind a grieving family and a devastated nation. Benazir Bhutto to some was a corrupt politician to others an idealist but at this point when we remember her the opinions that matte the most are of those who knew her personally.

Arianna Huffington talks Benazir Bhutto in a candid article:

Three years earlier, I had seen her at the height of her power and fullness of life when she was staying at Blair House in Washington, DC as the visiting prime minister of Pakistan -- the first woman prime minister in the Muslim world. She had her third child with her and took me to her bedroom to meet her. Then she sat on the bed with her baby in her arms while we laughed about our lives on the debating circuit, and talked about her life now.

Adrianna and Benazir had been friends since their college days. Benazir had been an Oxford Union President and Adrianna President of the Cambridge Union. They met often enough during college debates and others activities and the meeting of minds led to a strong bonding and lasted for more than a decade.

And she considered Bhutto to be unique, a fearless woman willing to put her life in danger to bring democracy to Pakistan:

I long ago realized that my personal life was to be subjugated to my political responsibilities. When my democratically elected father, Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was arrested in 1977 and subsequently murdered, the mantle of leadership of the Pakistan Peoples Party, our nation's largest, nationwide grassroots political structure, was suddenly thrust upon me. It was not the life I planned, but it is the life I have. My husband and children accept and understand that my political responsibilities to the people of Pakistan come first, as painful as that personally is to all of us. I would like to be planning my son's move to his first year at college later this month, but instead I am planning my return to Pakistan and my party's parliamentary election campaign.

I didn't choose this life. It chose me.

Related Post: Voices From Pakistan

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Yes. I am a biased [EDITED].

I will remain so, till Feminists like many of you do not stop becoming biased and the sex starved attention seeking males stop treachery towards other males just for imaginary chances of increase in availability of sex.
-------Sumanth

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The Lakota Indians have withdrawn from their 150 year old treaty with United States of America.

The Lakota Indians, who gave the world legendary warriors Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, have withdrawn from treaties with the United States. "We are no longer citizens of the United States of America and all those who live in the five-state area that encompasses our country are free to join us,'' long-time Indian rights activist Russell Means said. A delegation of Lakota leaders has delivered a message to the State Department, and said they were unilaterally withdrawing from treaties they signed with the federal government of the U.S., some of them more than 150 years old. The group also visited the Bolivian, Chilean, South African and Venezuelan embassies, and would continue on their diplomatic mission and take it overseas in the coming weeks and months. Lakota country includes parts of the states of Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Montana and Wyoming.

They called the treaty worthless words on worthless paper and finally realized that casinos don't really make the tribe richer. The white man as it is prefers to spend their moolah at Vegas and with the dollar hegemony over this maybe the best time to jump ship. Okay I pulled that one out of my brown ass just as I am pulling this one out that all the Indians in America were known for was - Casinos and Moonshine.

They are most welcome to join their Indian brothers from the Indian subcontinent and do some howdies around the fire. I am sure there is an Indian waiting to scalp me for my blatant ignorance and politically incorrect viewpoint.

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There is no subtle way of saying this – Bangalore roads are hellish and most drivers suffer from Road Rage. Everyone tries to squeeze into that extra space and the minute  vehicles scrape each other, people start fighting, they scream and some even start beating each other up. The past few days I’ve been virtually living on the roads of Bangalore, driving from one end of the city to another and I've come across four accidents in four days which seem to be a lot.

On Monday, I saw a three wheeler rammed into an Indica , Tuesday I saw an overturned bus on Hosur Road near Electronic City, Wednesday, I saw two buses hugging each other’s sides while the drivers fought and today on Sarjapur I saw a gruesome car accident.

I hate driving. The light drizzle we've been suffering for the past two days has made the traffic conditions even worse, add slush and flooded roads and what we have on our hands is a recipe for disaster. People are madder than ever. Instead of slowing down, they drive faster when they see a car turning or people crossing the road. It’s as if they have shelved their rational selves and become complete morons. No one is willing to give the other way causing jams and then just sitting in their vehicles expecting the cops to come and sort out their shit.

Indians have no concept of personal space and more so on the roads. There is always a biker zipping in too close or buses squeezing the car in from both the sides. I found myself screaming when two buses closed in – both wanting the middle space and who was in the middle? My dinky little Alto with the entire family sitting in it!

Today I had enough; I cannot bring myself to drive beyond the speed of 40km/hr or a maximum of 60km/hr. People keep honking behind me but I drive at my steady speed. Why speed up? There is bound to be a pothole the size of a cavern in the middle of the road which would have us all go back to the first gear or some massive pile up that would make us stop altogether.

Also, I honk judiciously, I find myself crawling behind a cyclist or pedestrians, the roads are slushy, and there aren’t any footpaths for them to walk on. Honking at them won’t get them off the road when there is nowhere for them to go. Seriously,  these <s>fuckers</s> people in their vehicles expect the two legged sods to fly their way home.

The biggest morons on the road are those who drive with their headlights at full beam. Even worse are those who get extra headlights fitted on their beastly vehicles and cause complete blindness for the next five minutes. Thankfully, until now I haven’t bumped anyone off the road at night and with me crawling at not more than 20km/hr in the side lanes, the chances of this happening seems slim. Another trick I have learned is to drive behind those mammoth trucks. Yes, it gets painfully slow but I rather be slow then go blind by those high beams!

Nowadays, I don’t mind getting those nasty glares from drivers who think they are the kings of the road. They are no different from the apes we see on the National Geographic Channel on testosterone overdrive. All I do is remind myself that what’s important is to reach home in one piece no matter how long it takes and then to destress with a cup of tea and some pakodas.

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 08:24 PM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

People get pregnant all the time but this time its Brit's little 16 year old sister who is pregnant. Jamie Lynn Spears used to be the star of Zoey 101 for Nickelodeon.

We respect Jamie Lynn's decision to take responsibility in this sensitive and personal situation. We know this is a very difficult time for her and her family, and our primary concern right now is for Jamie Lynn's well being," Nickelodeon said in a statement e-mailed to Reuters.

The less I say the better- there is fetus involvement but bookings are now available at 1800-petbabies.com . The Spears babymill has once again been set in motion.

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She was one of the beauties back in the 70s but now her face is what nightmares are made of. Nasty old me suddenly took a liking for puss filled pimples after seeing Freda's face. At least there is rejuvenation to be found after visiting the dermatologist but for Freda no amount of Botox will do her good, heck she doesn't even need to go under the scalpel, she looks like an entire Freak Show all on her own.

Why is she in the news? Apparently she is friends with the womanizer Security Minister Admiral Sir Alan West who had been appointed by the British Prime Minister to fight terror. But all the Admiral is currently defending is Freda's reputation:

Sources told Britain's The Mail on Sunday that Sir Alan had indeed been having an affair - but emphatically not with the ABBA star.

The admiral disclosed his infidelity "some years ago" during a routine security vetting procedure.

The sources refused to give further details of the affair, including whether it was still ongoing.

The episode was immediately characterised by political observers as a "Whitehall farce", adding to the series of embarrassments engulfing the Government.

It appeared yesterday that Sir Alan's confession to infidelity had become fused in the minds of Westminster insiders with their astonishment at his friendship with ABBA's Frida, as she is known to millions of fans.

But the Admiral and Freda are adamant in their denial that there was some back stage coochie cooing:

Yesterday, in answer to questions about their friendship, the admiral said: "All I'm going to say is I'm not having an affair with her, you know.

"I know her, and I've known her for a couple of years. So I'm sorry, but I'm not going to go there at all."

Good god! Admiral but you needn't sound so vehement, even she-mans have feelings , you know!!

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It was about seven in the morning when I heard three loud splashes. It sounded as if someone was splashing in the water trough in our back yard. Splashes? Water trough? Then I heard a loud Meowwww. Zoey had fallen in the water trough!! I ran out into the backyard and pulled the desperate cat out of water. Her claws were out and she grabbed my sleeve. I winced and grabbed one of my fluffy towels that were hanging on the clothes line. Wrapped her in it, took her in and realized she was all muddy. The water was dirty. She squirmed and I grabbed her shampoo. It was time to add insult to injury.

She kept wriggling as I took her to the bathroom. Opened the cap of cat shampoo but the shampoo wouldn’t flow.

The mouth of the bottle needed to pricked open with a sharp pointed object as small as a safety pin. Morons!! Anyone with a lick of sense knows that when an animal is cornered for a bath the damn shampoo bottles should be owner friendly. But no! That shampoo bottle would have taken an hour to open.

Zoey squirmed out of my hands and skated around the bathroom. I skidded after her.

Come back here! Zoey Lamba!! I am warning you.

When the kids don’t take my threats seriously why would the cat?

I looked around desperately and decided to give her a bath with my Body Shop Shampoo. Flipped open the lid , let the liquid slide into my scratched palm and then stalked the irate cat.

Ten minutes past she was no longer the hot missile zipping around but a drenched cat looking for a place to lick herself clean albeit miserably. I grabbed her and rubbed the shampoo in.

She wriggled, she grabbed me in a death vice and howled.

Zoey!! No! don’t you dare! That hurt. You stupid, dumb cat!

I cussed in pain and she meowed.

I turned the tap – Icy cold water. Her little white body stiffened. I called myself – a callous bitch.

Turned the other tap and scalding hot water burned my hand; I called myself a lousy buffoon.

With the lukewarm water splattering into the bucket I decided there was only one thing to do – drop her in the bucket of water.

Zoey was in for a second and before I could hold her down she was out again.

And the game began again and my cussing was ruder.

Five minutes later she was in the bucket –scrambling, meowing, eyes bulging, fur standing at its end and hating me with all her feline heart.

The shampoo refused to come out of her fur (obviously pet shampoo is better) and we had a nasty battle between us.

We both had our wounds to tend to once the bath was over; she with a wounded pride and I with nasty scratches.

I wrapped her in another warm fluffy towel and tried to dry her.

She trembled and let me dry her for a bit and then jumped off and hid in her favorite dirty corner.

I got a dirty look as if to say it was all my fault.

And I let her be.

Maybe a few kitty treats would have me back in her good books. But cats like elephants don’t forget. It will be sometime before she lets me become her favorite person once again.

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"If you haven't found something strange during the day, it hasn't been much of a day."
-----------John A. Wheeler

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Terry Pratchett has Alzheimer's:

After announcing his diagnosis, Pratchett added a post script: "I would just like to draw attention to everyone reading the above that this should be interpreted as 'I am not dead'. I will, of course, be dead at some future point, as will everybody else. For me, this maybe further off than you think - it's too soon to tell. I know it's a very human thing to say 'Is there anything I can do,' but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry." ®

There is no get well soon to this rare kind of an Alzheimer's disease. And yeah we all have to die at some point or the other but when gifted people die that much of contribution is deprived from the world's repository of culture and arts.

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The twisting of English by us 'natives' is always entertaining:

1. The word – Only: You don’t move from there, only. I like it this way, only

2. The word – Myself: Hi, me Myself Rajiv or Me Myself and Anand will go there tomorrow

3. The word- Just : I will just come (even if the person lives in the other side of town); I will just cook or I will just go shopping.

4. The word – Okay: I need it to be done, okay? This is how it happened, okay? I will call you, okay? I will kill you, okay?

5. The term -Very Funny : when at loss for a suitable repartee we descend to – Very Funny

6. The use of the abbreviation – ASAP: for all generic mails even forwards.

Someone needs a mail forwarded to get few cents in AOL account- do it ASAP. Make your plans ASAP. Come to the Party ASAP

7. The term: Look here: Look here, finish your work. Look here, I didn’t do this. Look here, the boss is coming.

8. The use of the term: What na?: What na? Why are you bugging me, na?

9. The word : Awesome: Oh, the party is so awesome. Your clothes are so awesome. You are so awesome (Slobber, Slurp)

10. The word: Like: You said, like, you could do it. But I, like, told you it cannot be done.

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They took turns, shooting a fourteen year old boy. Five bullets ripped through his young body in the high end Euro International School. Abhishek Tyagi died on the spot. According to news reports one of the boys smuggled his father's gun to the school's toilet and later he and his friend shot their nemesis to death.

"I thought it was loud metal work going on," says the student of the private Euro International school in Gurgaon, a thriving info-tech and property market town.

But as Karan approached the dank ground floor stairwell, he stopped in his tracks and froze.

Lying on the floor near a rubbish bin was the blood splattered body of fellow school pupil, Abhishek Tyagi, 14, with whom he had played a game of cricket in the school playground a few hours earlier on Tuesday.

"Yes, I killed Abhishek," the 14-year-old said without a trace of remorse or hesitation when he was produced at Sector 40 police station after the shooting at Euro International School here.

The two boys allegedly killed Abhishek Tyagi as "he was physically stronger than both of them and been beating them up for the past two months", Gurgaon Police Commissioner

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It’s a crazy kind of a love. I want to eat you, with you. Celebrate your flesh with you, piece by piece. Die along with you- watch you die as you eat what lives within. Insanity reigns supreme. Our love lives on forever in me, burning and coursing through my veins. In your dying breath I dream of endless eternity- the memories of us sitting together eating the last supper of the ending season. You smile weakly; blood, the color of ripe tomatoes, spills from your cup. Your blood and my thirst mingle in divine copulation. Time stands still as you bow your head and tell me you aren’t all there, bits of you are missing.
I smile and tell you – they are our bits and pieces like the love floating in the air. You sigh and tell me- you are dying and it isn’t cool to die on the first date. I smile and offer you dinner . I serve you the main entrée Penis in Massaman curry. Thai – you say as you taste and gently lay your head down on the table and die.
Another supper finished alone. I pick the newspaper next to me and circle the ad – wanted a partner to enjoy the flesh of Christ with.

Related News Item: German Cannibal Tells Of Fantasy

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If God lived on earth, people would break his windows.
----Jewish Proverb

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While watching Tarantino’s Death Proof, I found myself falling in love with his depiction of wild women, those who live the illusion of danger and those who actually are addicted to danger. The latter are hard to find; they are the female Gunslingers who rarely conform to the norms of society. These kinds of women are hard to pin down, rarely do we find them having families, generally they are perceived as either shrews with corporate iron crotches or eccentric male hating loners in modern times.

In the past they were considered to be female warriors, aberrations or freaks of the worst kind and yet accepted due to their strong charismatic personalities. Women like Elizabeth 1, Joan of Arc, Catherine the Great, Jhansi Ki Rani left their mark in the annals of male depicted history and others such as Margaret Thatcher or Indra Gandhi though widely disliked can hardly be ignored. All these women had one thing in common they were seen as men in women’s bodies.

Why can't women have the same qualities as men and yet not be perceived to be masculine? Take Princess Leia for example, she was a female Jedi, but in many ways different from Tarantino’s Beatrix Kiddo aka Black Mamba. One was driven by a higher cause and the other purely by revenge but together tied by a code of honor that only warriors understand. Like Durga, they emanated power yet retained the sensuousness of a woman’s grace and that was Stuntman Bob’s undoing in Death Proof when he picks three hot babes to kill but they turn out to be equally psychotic. The movie was a celebration of raw female power which in real life is hardly considered to be acceptable. In many ways, Death Proof was a tribute to the spurt of exploitative flicks of the 70s and 80s where women often took their revenge in the most gruesome manner possible.

Women who live lives like men are hardly accepted by society. Remember the US soldier who had a ciggie in her mouth and naked Iraqi prisoner on a leash? We squirmed as the picture flashed on our TVs, newspapers and seemed to be burned in our collective consciousness.

Can women be that evil in their hatred? No matter how much we may appreciate our female warriors but they do have their dark sides. They sell their souls to the devil to enjoy experiences that most women wouldn’t even dream of. The concept of conscious does not bother them, it all for the greater good. When corrupted by power they kill or direct to kill for to reach an objective. Indra Gandhi declared Emergency, Margret Thatcher invaded the Flaukner islands, the two ruled the respective countries as tight fisted as their sisters of the past.

Take the goddess Kali, while fighting the demons the blood lust took over and she went on a killing rampage. A psychopathic goddess venerated to this day despite the innocent blood shed by her madness. Isn’t that how we tend to treat our female warriors? We celebrate their blood thirst; be it in movies, mythologies or even in real life. When a woman hits back at an eve teaser those around her egg her on, appreciate her empowerment, they celebrate the goddess or the warrior residing within her but such acts are random since for most of us women it’s not a matter of survival as it was for Phoolan Devi The Bandit Queen who became part of the very pack that raped her.

In Kill Bill, Tarantino showed the maternal side of female mercenaries and even made a reference of one of the females in Death Proof being a mother yet in our minds the concept of maternal love being mish mashed with a thirst for blood doesn’t sit well. Phoolan Devi when reformed had two Great Danes and called them the loves of her life and some found that disconcerting. When male warriors can love and kill why can’t the female warriors do the same?

In the end, we are the same species but herein lies the difference - female warriors are few and be they Sith Lords or Jedi, we tend to follow their lives more closely than their male counterparts. They are the freaks of nature, the female forms of Shiva, the destroyers and procreators all rolled into one.

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Firang Squirrel tagged me:

I am judgmental about: Hang on, I have an opinion about everything, I am a miss know it all and love it or hate it types. There is no shades of grey for me which makes me a judgmental bitch. So this is gonna be the smallest tag ever;)

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Want to lose weight without going on some exotic diet or sweating on a machine? Simple, get rid of your maids! Yes, I do mean your part-timer, your full timers, your nanny, and while you are at it - even your driver. You’d be up at six in the morning packing tiffins, making breakfasts, kissing the family good bye, maybe dropping hubby to work and returning only to clean up your house. Since most of us don’t have wall to wall carpets you’d be sweeping the floors on a bended back, wiping the floors on your hunches (if youare chicken like me, probably on your knees), dusting, making the beds, doing the laundry (for your sake I do hope you have a washing machine) and finally realizing that your kitchen wasn’t kept pristine clean by the maid you’d be back to cleaning, scrubbing and maybe redoing the dishes. The DISHES!

No need to do bench presses, your hands will forever be loving and cleaning those dishes, cups and their pretty little saucers, not to mention stuff like those big Pateelas, frying pans etc need I say more?

By the time you’d have time to breathe easy it would be early afternoon and if you have young tots returning all famished by lunch time, it would be back into the kitchen slaving over the stove, cleaning the pots and pans, the kitchen and with you wondering in the middle – Maybe a cup of tea in the middle? No, no – an extra pan! I cannot clean another pan. Suddenly tea would be too much of an effort. Your body will crave caffeine and sugar but your mind will be adamant in its decision that it’s being cruel to be kind.

No Sugar – an awesome way to diet.

Kiddies will come home or maybe you’d have to pick them up at the bus stop, a little cat nap in the car while waiting would probably be a good idea; not that the bus would leave with your kids. After the little nap and kiddies in the back you’d return home.

You’d have to change them, feed them, clean the dishes, referee their fights, try to get them to sleep and if they are balls of relentless energies like mine, you’d probably be babysitting them through the afternoon. Maybe you’d grab a bite if you have the time or maybe if you go as insane as I do and you won’t.

Come evening you’d be doggone tired but by then it would be again kitchen time; milk and sandwiches for the little pumpkins and dinner to be made. Ah, dinner - the one affair that all Stepford Wives are proud of, it wouldn’t seem so appealing but rarely do mothers and wives offer Cheerios for dinner, especially on weekdays.

Your body will complain but the perfectionist in you would egg you on - You are better than those witches you paid hard earned money to. You can do it, make better food, clean your home better and guess what? There is less wastage in the kitchen and you spend more time with your babies.

Our bodies, once in a while can be fooled by pep talk and you’d find yourself cooking the best meal ever, it would be a labor of love - palak paneer, dal makhani, rice, paranthas, salad and a cake to end it all with.

Oh yeah! You’d be putting in the whole day instead of the one hour in a pricey gym – working those muscles all the way.

With the evening winding down and the kids too, by eight they will be in bed, with full bellies and your eyelids would be drooping while waiting for the man of the house to return.

But wait a minute - didn’t you forget something? After rigorous exercise hitting the showers is compulsory and with all the strenuous exercise you put in through the day you’d probably forget to take a bath. A warm soak in the tub is ideally recommended, think of it like a sauna but care must be taken not to doze off. Set an alarm, remember you can’t afford to nod off - no one is there to let hubby darling in.

Smelling all nice and limp like a noodle you’d wait for the love of your life to return. Hopefully he’d be home soon, if not let him warm up his meal! Those muscles need rest. After the meal is over, the dishes would have to be done-again. It’s a good idea to get your sweet cheeks to exercise those arms along with you to clean the night dishes and clean the kitchen.

Get him to make tea for you but wait a minute - by then you would already be half asleep.

If you carry on this regimen for ten days, I can promise you a weight loss at least of three to four kilos.

However, before taking on this exercise plan, you must know the side effects – your sex life will probably suffer due to excessive tiredness, visits to the salon will become rare, no phone time to gossip with friends, you will look skinner but with a kind of vacant eyed rumpled appearance and worst of all you may lose your sanity.

Is it a heavy price to pay? Think of a skinner you. Isn’t it worth it? Best of all, this entire plan comes free of charge.

Side note: My maid-less condition is not deliberate.

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 08:49 PM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The first time my daughter laid eyes on a white teddy bear in a mall she let out a delighted squeal. She hugged the stuffed animal and walked around with it as if it was her baby. She slept with her teddy, she ate alongside her teddy and the only place she wasn't allowed to take her teddy was to the bathroom.

Like Calvin and Hobbes, Parita and her teddy were inseparable. She even tried to feed her teddy milk and khaana. Of course, one fine day, Teddy was given up for Barney and then Barney was given up for a doll. Yet she is still quite possessive about her teddy. He has to be within her playing periphery.

I was about five when a mean laborer stuffed my stuffed dog up the kitchen's chimney,  or that was what my mother told me. I still remember the dog's long floppy ears, brown coat and red nose. I was upset for weeks together and even now when i visit home, the chimney is a reminder of the tears I shed as a tot.

The entire ruckus over Teddy Mo' was much ado about nothing. The kids meant no harm, the teacher meant no offense.

The class voted the name Mohammed for their Teddy not in jest but probably in pure innocent love. It is a sign of veneration for the Prophet, the only special person who their special toy could be named after was their Prophet.

Adults would obviously go down the slippery slope - today its a stuffed toy tomorrow an animal could be named after the Prophet etc. But children don't think that way and this lady for all her ignorance didn't think that way. She probably knew that kids love their toys with all their little hearts.

Mrs Gibbons is back in Britain and has only good words to put in for Sudan and its people.

"The Sudanese people I found to be extremely kind and generous and until this happened I only had a good experience."

"I wouldn't like to put anyone off going to Sudan.

"I would like to thank Lord Ahmed and Baroness Warsi and I would like to thank all the people who have worked so hard to secure my release and make my time more bearable."

The teacher's local MP, Louise Ellman, has welcomed Mrs Gibbons' return but said the jail sentence "should never have happened".

"The original incident was something very innocent and then what should have been seen as a minor error - and certainly a very innocent one - suddenly became blown up into something extremely important and the whole thing has been very, very worrying and quite horrendous."

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 11:24 PM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Celebrities are getting their bodies done, whether they be in Hollywood or Bollywood and their lack of boobs, lack of cellulite, creamy skin are reasons for a regular woman to feel bummed out.

Then comes along Jennifer Love Hewitt with her fabulous smile and gorgeous wholesome body. The first time I laid my eyes on her was in the movie Garfield and was totally blown over by her curvy figure, followed by the television series Ghost Whisperer. Though she seemed skinny but her booty remained booty-lious. It was as if the middle path between looking like a pre-adolescent boy with little boobies and being a fertility goddess had been attained.

Jennifer Love Hewitt became one of my most liked actors. Her innocent apple pie smile would just pep us up even on the most wretched day. She never made news for all the wrong reasons- no hard partying, no undies being flashed, no rehab news, no nothing. She seemed to be just another ordinary beautiful American gal.

But one fine day we see horrid pictures of her in a bikini. She looked kind of weird, curves bulging from all directions, more like a delicious muffin with mushroom-like toppings.

People said - Egawd! What went wrong with her? Love made her all pudgy?

I, on the other hand, was miffed. We are so used to seeing emaciated women in bikinis that when a regular babe wears one, we all do a collective 'ewww'

Remember Britney by the pool with two other scrawny babes? The collective 'eww'? Unfortunately Britney too caved in to the public pressure and went under the knife, cut, suck and tightened. Britney still looks Britney; the thing is after having two babies a woman's body cannot look like a girl's.

And sometimes what some can achieve others cannot, thats the way nature works.

Fair is where hogs win blue ribbons. We all cannot look like Super models and like Jennifer Love Hewitt we should love ourselves. She is the kind of woman that we can identify with whether we are emaciated, skinny, slightly over weight or just plain FAT!!

Her response to the snide comments on her site was:

What I should be doing is celebrating some of the best days of my life and my engagement to the man of my dreams, instead of having to deal with photographers taking invasive pictures from bad angles. I know what I look like, and so do my friends and family. And like all women out there should, I love my body.

To all girls with butts, boobs, hips and a waist, put on a bikini -- put it on and stay strong.

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 08:01 AM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)