I have yet to meet a person who hasn't wished another human being - death at some point of their lives. Obviously none of them decided to actually carry out the act but asked fate to do it for them .

And these are perfectly nice people. People like you and me who open doors for mothers with strollers, give their seats to old people, love animals, make donations and love their families and friends.

But when rage takes over they wish the victim of their rage- death. Maybe its the impotency of being unable to best the person or feeling invigorated by the sheer malicious of wishing someone ill.

To make matters more complicated in cases such as family disputes often one gets to hear of Tantric influencing; that is - when a person actually dies or falls sick, loses large sums of money- accusations of black magic are made quite easily.

Even amongst the educated, many believe that there are those who can harness dark powers/souls to do their dirty deeds.

It never fails to amaze me when people whisper about finding totkas in their homes or driveways. And they then believe that the misfortune was caused by someone else and wasn't an act of fate or sheer bad luck.

That's when they fall victim to pandits, god-men and astrologers. Sometimes its the other way round when the seeker is told that someone had done - 'jadu tona' on them and heavy sums of money is extracted from them to bring 'harmony' back in their lives.

Do I believe in the power of cursing or in black magic- No. Wouldn't half the world be dead if words and rituals alone could kill people?

Wishing someone ill at a heat of moment is one thing but going to a Tantric to ensure the deed is done is like giving supari a 'spiritual assassin'.

I have a hard time believing that regular people actually go looking for Babas with killing powers. Kind of hard to believe a harried daughter in law saying - Baba kill my witch of a mother in law but its believable that an innocent daughter in law may be accused of doing so.

When the urban educated continue to believe in these arcane superstitions there is very little to be expected from our villagers.

Related Article : PHOONK- Ram Gopal Varma Film 

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They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

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Rock on

Ugly aur Pugly

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Idlis have special meaning for me. My grandfather was the one who taught me how to eat idlis the wrong way. He'd put sambhar and coconut chutney on top of the piping hot idlis, smash it all up and eat like rice. Even now thats how I like to eat my idlis- smashed, sticky and ever so divine.

I can eat idlis at all times - breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack time, post snack time- just about any time. Idli is the ultimate comfort food for me. Idlis somehow even in their bland taste remind me of innocence. How wrong can one go with idlis?

Its all in the batter, the further its made away from South India the more diluted its taste becomes. At least in Delhi, despite visiting the best South Indian joints. I could never get the kind of Idlis that we get down South.

The melting softness and the tangy sambhar can only be enjoyed here. If you have the urge to eat idlis the best place to enjoy them is at a nameless little shop in a small lane in Commercial Street. Ask any Bangalorean and they will take you there.

They serve idlis during evenings and they are positively swoon worthy.

Looking back, the best idlis I remembered eating when I was young were made by my dad's friend's wife. I was less than five years old and barely reached the kitchen sink. I remember Aunty showing me how idlis were made. I was in awe. My mom never made idlis.

Her delicate fingers indented the idlis with ghee. I remember her patiently answering my questions. And when she sneaked me an idli ahead of everyone waiting in the living room, I was in heaven.

It was hot, soft and soulful. I was in love with the idli and awed by the idli maker. Its funny how I barely remember what she looked like, except that she was slim, delicate, and in my nostalgic mind - pure like the idli she made.

Related Article : Dal Makhani: The National Cuisine By Shantanu Dutta

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Back in the month of June I twisted my ankle badly and basically was in acute pain for weeks to come. My plan to hit the gym were shelved till the month of August. August is here but my ankle still hurts. Like old wounds that hurt when the temperatures fall my relatively new pain crops up frequently. The muscles tend to cramp and I walk like a lame duck.

No sexy heels; even sneakers hurt. Have I become old? Next week I will be 33 years old. Not exactly hitting middle age but it seems my body is sending me signals that it ain't as flexible as it was back when I was in my twenties. The machinery is slowly getting worn out.

Dunno whether I'd be all excited on the 5th of August. The pain does well to remind me that I am that much closer to dying.

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Cleavage!! There's a lot of it on Mission Istaanbul from Belly dancers, a pissed off journalist wife, lots of male cleavage, a wannabe Angelina Jolie and a product placement of thaanda Mountain Dew. Is there any redeeming quality for Mission Istaanbul? Its all about popular conspiracy theories coming true on the 13th Floor of a news channel which is a terrorist front. Its about looking like Matt Damon from Bourne and oh yeah! Its about smooching Jolie's little Indian sister.

There is a pseudo-President Bush suffering from Bushism - saying Man-hole-Singh Manmohan Singh, and not wanting to interfere in the shenanigans of some Indians finding out the truth about you know who being dead in the terrorist circles.

So, the movie isn't low budget, the action scenes are packed but here is what I don't get about the movie. Despite all the high tech talk of computers and all why didn't they use YouTube to let the world know the truth? Then again they had to stretch the movie to three hours. (Speaking of YouTube, the full Mission Istaanbul has already leaked in ten-minute clips, if you'd like to watch it in that painful format.)

Hence, there are a lot of chase scenes through the colorful streets of Istanbul, a love interest specially flying to Turkey to complicate matters further and the Indian ambassador chickening out and letting foreign cops into the Embassy.

After the intermission, the movie takes on a Rambo flavor. Two men fighting against terrorists while the world watches on the sidelines.

The movie is fraught with many loopholes, ugly looking terrorists having sauna baths, bare-chested fights and Abhishek Bachchan shaking his scrumptious booty as a guest appearance. Come to think of it, the only reason one should go to see this movie is to watch some male booty in action. Apart from that the movie has nothing new to offer.

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Ahmedabad suffered multiple bomb blasts. Our thoughts are with them.

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At least seven blasts rocked Bangalore. Nayandahalli, Madiwala, Adugodi, Koramangala, Mysore Road and Hosur Road suffered bomb attacks in a span of 15 to 30 minutes which were triggered by timers. As of now one woman is reported dead and twenty injured. All these are very crowded areas of Bangalore city. Madiwala and Adugodi are part of the Hosur Road which leads straight to Electronic City.

The bombs are said to be of low intensity, possibly induced by gelatin sticks,ammonium nitrate, and urea. As of now, all the malls and restaurants, schools around the area have been shut down. An emergency cabinet meeting has been called for the evening.

People are advised to stay off the phone networks if possible as they are already intentionally jammed. The injured have been admitted to St. John's Hospital and Mallya Hospital.

The Police has requested people not to get panicky but people around these area are stranded especially in Koramangala and Electronic City. The blasts began between one thirty and one forty five in the afternoon.

The areas have been cordoned off but Bangalore has not come to a standstill.

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Now there sits a man with an open mind. You can feel the draught from here.
--------Groucho Marx

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Zoey is finally back to normal. After a week of putting up with her yowling and butt wriggling I was just about ready to scratch my eyes out and go raving mad!! All this just to get Zoey's and Kensei's first and only litter. After seeing her get nympho 24/7 we decided to shut down the kitty making factory for both their sakes.

As it happens female cats can take on multiple partners. Yeah, my poor Kensei was just not enough for her. She kept yowling away and I kept banging my head against the wall.

Thankfully she didn't put her hot ass on my face but whenever she caught my eye her ass was up as if to tell me - Get me a fuck buddy!! Now!! Mommy I am in pain

A tom began to visit us, wanting some conjugal visits with Zoey. She asked him to come in and he acted like a Lothario denied his rights. Kensei in the meanwhile sat and watched. He couldn't care or less; he still got to do her at least four times a day but it just wasn't enough for her.

She was an empowered nymphomaniac and I was an astounded owner.

How much Zoey? I asked her time and again.

No wonder they burned women who had cats. You people have no morals!! You are a bad influence I told her and she merely meowed back at me.

My kids didn't get to see any action. They would have been distraught to see Kensei hanging on to her neck while pumping into her. The cats were relegated to the backyard. They carried on their carnal delights there during the day and once the kids went to sleep at night the cats were let in and we were given front row seats to kitty erotica.

Hopefully Zoey is pregnant. I cannot go through another heat cycle with her wanting sex and me wanting an extended retreat to a nearby asylum.

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After the Mini-me sex tape fiasco starring Verne Troyer there is a whiff of a Madonna sex tape. Why do people, especially celebrities, make tapes of themselves having sex? In my mind its as weird as recording one's genitalia.

Sex is a private act. We talk about it but to record it seems way out there. What do people do with these tapes? Sit back and watch them on their home theater systems and say - hey I could have humped you better? Or For the next video we must try the 69 position?

There have been so many sex videos and most have been worse than the regular porno videos like the one with bits of Paris Hilton showing after her simpering - I want you to touch me there

Fact is real life sex does not look like porno tapes.

There is no glossy production quality or retakes; its just two people having regular sex and watching two regular people doing it without the artificial fluff makes it tardy.

It feels good to those doing the act but to the audience its like an illegal National Geographic porno moment and the tape is then dissected. Which was why Verne Troyer fought tooth and nail to stop the distribution of his sex video tape and Paris Hilton was emotional wrought when her tape leaked.

With the regular leaking of sex tapes one would think it would deter celebs from making them but I guess having glass ceilings just doesn't do it for them any more. They want to be the 'star' of the orgasmic moment.

It is some kind of narcissism to make these tapes and save them for posterity? 

Do people then re-play the tapes? Do they save them along with their marriage tapes?

When they break up do they return the tapes and swear the returned tapes were original copies? 

Do they have any pre-nup agreements about these tapes?

These questions need answers, maybe they are answered. The world of celebrities is way different from ours. It's what fantasies are made of, the only problem is when their world and ours collide they tend to burn and we enjoy the fireworks;) 

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Yet again I am maidless. I had to let go my recent maid since her family was nursing a relative with tuberculosis. The girl had taken ten days off without giving me any adequate reason. The lady who had given guarantee for the girl came over and told me that my maid's sister in law had got her brother from the village to the city for treatment and he was staying with them.

I obviously had to let her go. An old one who had stopped working on her own at our place dropped over. But she is one of those stubborn ones who has to be instructed ten times before the chore is done.

There is trouble in paradise; I need help!!

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How to Say No Respectfully

Steps

1. Listen to the request respectfully. Do not interrupt the speaker.
   
2. Phrase your "no" as simply as possible. Don't raise your voice or become upset, simply say that you cannot help this time. When you say no, say it in a confident, well modulated voice to sound more straightfoward.
   
3. Don't feel obligated to explain. You have your reasons and they may not be ones you wish to discuss. If this is the case, try saying something like, "I'm just not able to." Leave it at that - if you must, change the subject, or say, "I'm so sorry, but I need to go."
   
4. Explain simply, and only if you wish to do so. If the case really is one that you feel okay explaining, make your explanation as simple as possible.
   
5. Stand firm. If the requestor does not want to accept your answer, tell him or her that your mind is made up and that you will not change it.
   

Tips

• Be respectful. Even if the person asking isn't.
  
• If your refusal upsets someone, remain calm and, if possible, remove yourself from the situation.
  
• Do not lie when you explain why your answer is no. For example, if you do not want to have your sister and brother-in-law stay at your house for the weekend because they are inconsiderate slobs, do not tell them that you will be fumigating the house. Instead, try, "This weekend isn't a good time for us to have stay-over guests." If they press, say, "We have a lot of shopping and cleaning to do to prepare for this next week, and we won't do it if we have company." Hopefully, that will end the discussion. And frankly, that's probably the truth, isn't it?
  
• This approach can be used for salespeople as well as friends. Telemarketers are human too.
  
• Preface your 'NO' by saying 'I understand what you are saying' before refusing - it helps if people feel empathy.
  

Warnings

• If you feel you are at risk of physical harm, alert a third party as quickly as possible. If you can, call the local emergency number (usually one of the following: 911, 999, 000, or 112).
  

Related wikiHows

• How to Make Out at the Right Place
  
• How to Makeout With Your Boyfriend and Have Him Love It
  
• How to Make Any Girl Want to Kiss You
  
• How to Romantically Hug a Guy
  

Article provided by wikiHow, a collaborative writing project to build the world's largest, highest quality how-to manual. Please edit this article and find author credits at the original wikiHow article on How to Say No Respectfully. All content on wikiHow can be shared under a Creative Commons license.

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Its believed that sex tends to decrease in long term relationships. There are a whole gamut of reasons why this tends to happen even for those with healthy appetites. Here are a few:

Giving in to the daily grind : Day to day living tends to wear out romance. Work related stress and general fatigue tends to sap people of energy

Electronic distractions : Some people believe that watching tv or being on the net brings them closer. At one level sure it adds to conversation and general companionship but on the other level it put a damper on intimacy.

Children : Kids are like ever ready batteries. They tire parents out and then fall off to sleep

Living with other family members : While joint families have their positive aspects but with people around the chances of having sex say in the middle of the day or early in the night is next to impossible.

Food Habits: The chances of getting lucky after a heavy Indian dinner are unlikely. Generally people either fall off to sleep right away or spend rest of waking hours burping or looking for Tums or Alkaselzers.

Loss of Interest or Laziness: In the end despite all the above factors one can still have an active sex life if the fires are kept burning. People sometimes just lose interest in each other, they forget to flirt with each other and they forget that intimacy keeps the marriage strong. Its called taking each other for granted. Thats when the marriage too becomes functional and boring.

Obviously there are other serious reasons why people stop having sex - there can be medical reasons or marital problems but for those who do want to put the zest back in their sex lives all they need to do is put their mind to it and the rest naturally follows.

Related Articles: Marriage Mania - By Chaitanya S
How To Have Sex After Marriage

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Beijing citizens have been told not to pick their noses, yawn or scratch their heads when talking to foreigners during the Olympics.
-------BBC

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So, what do you do for a living?

Ah!! you're a homemaker...

Yeah, that's the end of the conversation with me.

Back in Delhi when I bumped into an old school acquaintance I decided to tell the truth that I was a writer and quite a lot of my stuff was published. Where? Skin mags!!

The babe looked flustered and shocked and I was smug. It sounded better than stating a flaky - I am a homemaker

Recently I blurted out the truth in a more creative fashion - I am retired and since I am a woman of means I don't need to work. Thanks to my husband I am lucky enough to be able to devote time to my passion and my family.

The individual who asked me What do you do for a living? spluttered and was left speechless .

Most people are unable to earn money from their passion. Most people are unable to devote time to their passion. Come to think of it, a majority of people don't even know what they are good at. They work because they have to, not because they want to.

Few people are eager to go to work on a Monday morning. The few who do look forward to their work are generally self employed or enjoy great deal of autonomy at their work, others crib about their work environment , their bosses, colleagues and the list goes on.

All that is discussed after I am politely ignored for leading an 'idle life' and I find myself wondering time and again whether my 'stress free life' ( yeah, even I had a boss yelling at me at one point) isn't better than dealing with the egoistical bosses and bitchy colleagues.

When they compare their stressful lives with each others I remain quiet. My stress is different from theirs- I go sleepless at night because I write late into the night not because I have a presentation or assignment to finish. I get up at crack of dawn because I have tiffins to pack and chores to do and not because I have to drive from one end of the city to get another to work. Basically I am the mistress of my own time and of my mind.

Sure, I have to deal with people who think I am a lazy babe without an identity; some even called me a doormat. Doormat and me? Just because I don't get a pay cheque at the end of the month?

I'm already working but I don't have to prove my worth to anyone.

The way I see it- when I am on my death bed I am not going to regret that I didn't have a nine to five job but reminisce more about relationships gone sour or dreams left unfulfilled.

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What makes a restaurant a success? Food alone does not cut it but the ambiance and service are of equal relevance. While the food in Via Milano, a Bangalore-based Italian restaurant run by Italian expats was reasonably good, it had an impersonal feel to it and the service sucked.

The Salmon was subtle and tasty. The spaghetti and shrimp were good but there was no accompanying bread basket with the main course. We had to remind the waiter to serve it and by then we were already midway through our meal.

The waiters were completely spaced out. We had to be on the lookout to catch their eye to get even basic needs met. What bugged me was the socialist mentality of waiters hovering over the 'gora' tables while 'naturally' ignoring the desis. One table had three waiters grouped around it. How hard was the decision making?

Once we had finished dinner, our plates were taken in a rather haphazard manner; a few taken by one waiter and another returning to look under napkins in case the side plates were left behind. I was weirded out.

Our coffee orders were mixed up and far from feeling at home at their pristine white 50s-style lounge, I wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Which by the way took another fifteen minutes since they forgot to return our bill till we reminded them that we had been waiting for a long time for the card and check.

Instead of Via Milano, I recommend Fiorano in Koramangala where the service is far better. Another place is Magnolia which despite being crowded on weekends offers impeccable service and awesome Thai food.

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A Depression doesn't run hot and fierce like some crazed meth burner. A Depression is methodical, purposeful, patient. It will build a shelter out of tree branches and newspaper, light a small, well-contained campfire and wait you out, brother. While you feed on the empty calories of denial and popcorn, it will quietly gather shards of broken dreams and fashion them into a terrible weapon of blunt force reality.
---------------------Keven Depew

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When I was pregnant with my first kid my OB-GYN told me that once I've had kids I will always be sleep deprived. Going through my recent snaps I realized I've always looked a bit tired. I've not had full 12 hours of sleep since the birth of our kids.

Last night Parita had a massive cough attack and despite the meds we both were basically up. Aayan and she missed school today and are at home.

Bunking is never good nor is being in a state of perpetual sleep deprivation good for my physical and mental health.

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Yahoo CEO Jerry Yang — the target of a proxy battle by billionaire investor Carl Icahn and a takeover offensive by Microsoft — just arrived in Sun Valley for Allen & Co’s mogul confab. It looks like he wishes he was elsewhere.

Sweet!!;)

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I suffered a reverse culture shock two years ago when we returned to India. America had been the exact opposite of India in many ways.

Silence had been the first thing that had jarred my senses back in the US. There had been too much silence. I could hear myself think. And then there were so few people. The only time I saw lots of people was at concerts, malls or in New York but California and Milwaukee made me love silence and open spaces.

Then I came back to India after five years and found myself vulnerable to all that I had forgotten. I had to teach myself to grow a thicker skin, to be immune to the beggar banging away on my car window, to learn to live with filth and crumbling infrastructure and not complain about it.

I was suddenly a returned NRI estranged from her country and out of sync with her own family. But with time I found myself rediscovering the soul of her country. I found myself loving the noise, the irrationality of living in every little available space, of crawling over each other in buses, trains and ferries but never making eye contact and finding out that the poor of our country are far more helpful than the rich and snotty.

For all the little tots pooping on the sidewalks, the religious processions causing traffic jams, the crazy divide between the rich and poor I found myself easing back into the fold.


It was like rediscovering love with the same person without going through the headiness of honeymoon stage. It was like a pragmatic love, where after all the whining and the soul searching one came to a simple conclusion that this was it and nothing else would be better- there could be no other relationship and I had to make it work.

When I realized that this was all I had it got easier. I came back to India but left my excess baggage at the doorstep. I came to realize that each country is different and there can be no comparisons.

I still love America, I'd love to visit her again, meet my friends, eat at my favorite restaurants, browse the bookshops but India is where I would finally like to return.

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I was ready to get the damn tooth out. I was ready to have the dentist jab that needle in my mouth, cut my gum, remove the tooth from the bone and then welcome drool mouth Dee along with heavy doze of painkillers.

We were looking for parking and I remembered the removal of my other wisdom tooth eight years ago quite vividly. The pressure against the gum, the grinding noise, the pain - gawd the awful pain and the swollen mouth.

The cell rang and the damn receptionist told me the doc wasn't coming in. My appointment had been canceled- I had been stood up by my dentist!!

The appointment is for next Saturday. The fuckyness of it all!!

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After two years of planting the lily plant I finally saw one bloom. Others never opened.

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Penis theft : a cultural affliction?

I thought about Starrys. He had been a skeptic before his encounter; but on that day, his inner world shifted, and he became afraid. He stopped giving directions. He stopped trusting strangers. He knew that magical penis loss was a real and terrifying possibility. He had, in a sense, been drawn into the culture, into its beliefs, so far that he had caught this culture-bound syndrome.

The Google Day Care Saga:

Parents who had been paying $1,425 a month for infant care would see their costs rise to nearly $2,500 — well above the market rate. For parents with toddlers and preschoolers, who were charged less, the price increases were equally eye-popping. Under the new plan, parents with two kids in Google day care would most likely see their annual day care bill grow to more than $57,000 from around $33,000.

Do Female Self Destructive Celebrities Suffer Double Standards?

Sure, plenty of male stars get excoriated by the media -- Mel Gibson to name one. But overwhelmingly, as a recent New York Times article alleges, "Men who fall from grace are treated with gravity and distance, while women in similar circumstances are objects of derision, titillation and black comedy."

Pointers For An Ideal Husband:

Father Pat Connor, a 79-year-old Catholic priest born in Australia and based in Bordentown, N.J., has spent his celibate life — including nine years as a missionary in India — mulling connubial bliss. His decades of marriage counseling led him to distill some “mostly common sense” advice about how to dodge mates who would maul your happiness.

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“Daddy” She tried to get his attention.

“Hmmmm?” He did not turn to look at his daughter who knelt down on the grass along with him.

“Daddy?” She reached over and touched his bent waist.

He sighed and stopped pulling the weeds. Brushed his hands against his jean clad thighs and turned to look at his daughter.

“What is it, Kelly?” Tendrils of her hair waved gently in the Mid Western wind. It had been a cool day and the winds had yet to pick up pace. A bird sang above their heads on the maple tree. Her song was sweet and it caused much melancholy in his heart.

He reached over and tucked the hair behind his daughter’s ear. A smudge of dirt marred the perfect skin of her ear. He looked at it and remembered his wife kissing Kelly’s ears when she was barely a few minutes old.

“Daddy?” she gently held his hand. Her eight year old hand was engulfed in his strong grasp. She missed her mother.

“Daddy?”

He smiled at her whimsically “What is it pumpkin?”

She bit her lip and tried to hold the tears back from her eyes. She didn’t want to hurt him. But she had to ask him.

“Daddy, is Ma really in heaven?”

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. His gentle Melissa was gone forever. He tried to be patient with their daughter just as Melissa had taught him to be.

Put the anger and grief on the back burner. She would have said. He could actually hear her say the words in his mind.

How he missed her sweet warmth.

He looked at his daughter and tried to smile.

“Yes, sweetie she is in heaven.”

“But daddy!” She chewed her lip just like her mother used to do when she was under tremendous stress; the same gentle chewing of the lip between the upper and lower teeth when the biopsy reports said she’d live less than six months. His brave Melissa was gone leaving behind a grieving husband and a confused daughter.

He shook his head and went back to weeding the earth with renewed vigor.

Tears fell from his eyes, tears he didn’t want his daughter to see.

She sat back on her haunches and watched a little ladybird crawl up her arm.

The beautiful black spots on its red shell reminded her of the times she had gone ladybird hunting with her mother in the fields, she remembered the times when they had sat together and eaten berries freshly plucked and slept under the same maple tree.

Her chest tightened and she could breathe. She was swept up in a maelstrom of grief but couldn’t reach out to her father. He no longer smiled; he couldn’t look at her in the eye. Grandma told her to give him time. He will come around she had said as she hugged her little body against her ample bosom till she couldn’t breathe.

Grandma hugged her too tightly nowadays but her father couldn’t bring himself to touch her.

“Daddy!” She tried again, a little more hesitant this time. Had she done something wrong?

He brushed a hand across his eyes. Jesus, he didn’t know how to comfort his daughter.

Throwing the weeds aside he decided to take a breather and talk to the only precious thing he was left with.

“Tell me honey.”

“Daddy if mama is in heaven why are we here?” She blurted out. Apprehension made her shiver. She had finally asked her father the question that had been plaguing her for a while.

“Here? Because this is your mother’s grave.” He told her trying to keep the impatience out of his voice.

The harshness of his tone made tears spill from her eyes. He cursed himself; she was so fragile.

She brushed her tears away just like he had a few minutes ago. So much pain, how were they to deal with it?

He tried again

“Honey, I come here because it makes me feel close to your mom.”
She crawled up to him and snuggled in his lap. She was again a five year old wanting comfort from her father. He hugged her close to his chest while his heart broke.

“But daddy it saddens me to come here. I miss mama even more.”

He rocked her silently and watched the sun go down. So many memories lay under the maple tree. The leaves of the tree whispered gently along with the breeze. The sky turned molten giving the few fluffy clouds a silvery- gold sheen.

The lights in the farm came on. Melissa’s mother must have made lasagna. She was trying to fill in a gap she never could but bless her heart she was a rock of Gibraltar he and his daughter had leaned on. She had held the family together.

He buried his face in his daughter’s hair and drew in the clean fragrance. His mother in law had given Kelly a bath. He had been neglecting his daughter. His grief had made him selfish. He hadn’t been there to comfort Melissa’s mother either.

He gathered his daughter up firmly in his arms and tried to speak in a lighter tone “Tell you what we will talk to your mom during Grace before dinner what do you say?”

“Will mommy hear us Daddy?” She looked up at the gaunt face of her father.

He gave her a reassuring smile

“Sure she will honey.”

She laid her head against his shoulder and he walked towards the porch of the farm house where Melissa’s mother waited for them.

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the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

-----Charles Bukowski

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A woman best understands another's pain and yet it is a woman who sees through another's deviousness and petty manipulations.

Tears Come In Handy:

Crocodile tears streaming down satin cheeks might melt the male heart but rarely does too get beyond a certain point on other women. Why? That is because the fairer sex knows that tears come easy to some of their sisters. Scold them and a thousand rivers flow. They snivel into their hankies, dupattas or pallus. Moppy women are tedious to bear and are similar to the emotional wrought ones.

Emotional Wrecks Or Drama Queens:

These damsels are always in distress and demand regular men play Lancelot to their Guinevere. These divas swallow men whole. These kinds of women abound - they expect someone lse to save them from their lonely marriages, their boyfriends, their parents, their siblings, their jobs, etc. Their hearts are forever broken and wounds never heal. Generally women are able to sieve the fake wolf criers from real victims. It is intuitive.

Menstrual Cycle As a Weapon-

Some use their monthlies to garner sympathy. Of course there are those who suffer tremendously - myself included - but to make it a tear jerking scenario doesn't work every time on women. It isn't a form of illness or affliction but a natural phenomena that makes us women. If it hurts, get some medicine, use a hot water bottle, go lie down for a while but if the bleeding is bad, a visit to the Gynecologist would be better than being an periodically ailing damsel.

The Flirt: These are easy to deal with. With the high heels, swanky clothes and tinkling laughter they use their sexuality to impress the opposite sex. They instinctively repel the insecure and the feminists alike. To use one's sexuality alone to be popular rarely works after a while since everyone cannot be Mata Hari in the making.

Lies and Sweet Nothings: The ones with the sweet tongue are the toughest to deal with. Their forked tongues can bring empires down. Manipulation, lying and flattery comes easy to such women. They revel in causing conflict. Not only do men fall in their traps but so do women with simple hearts.

The Matriarch Syndrome: These women use their age, position in the family to have their way. These are the control freaks who would run a finger and show the dust even in the most sterile cleanest environment. No one can best these kinds of ladies. They know best and rule with an iron hand.

Best Way to Deal With Such Women: We may detest them, try our best to avoid them but when circumstances demand interaction there are a few tried out tips that seem to work. Once we know the kind of personality, we are dealing with more than half the battle is won. A heavy dose of humor helps when it comes to dealing with the female dictator; with the forked tongue women, humility works, along with taking everything that they say with a pinch of salt. With the hot air heads keeping them at an arms distance works, mostly.

The hypochondriac ones ones require heavy doses of Oxycontin to zone them out painkillers and a matter of fact attitude works to keep their hysterics in control 

For the emotional wrecks, deliberate deafness is the perfect solution. 

And when all else fails, the best thing to do is just cut ties and run for one's life for once tangled in their webs getting out with a sane mind is kind of difficult.

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There are no absolute truths in life; when shades of Gray are delved into, some are accepted and some are denied fervently. The relativity of absolutes are tested time and again. Whether it be by books such as Dostoevsky's Crime And Punishment or Anne Rice's Vampire Series or television shows such as Dexter or The Sopranos.

Protests were made by those who cannot fathom why we are supposed to identify with psychopaths like Dexter, or Tony and his gang and Anne Rice's books considered to be against Christianity for identifying with demonic forces.

Dexter kills but only those who he sees as evil, Tony likes children and animals yet our value system demands that we condemn them as heinous human beings and Lestat loves those whose blood sustains him.

Dexter can be seen as a superhero who kills the villains instead of handing them over to the cops and Tony Soprano just a New Jersey mobster to be taken down but not someone totally evil and likewise Lestat and his ilk feed on the dregs of society.

That's how they would want us to perceive them since that is how they justify their own evilness to themselves. And like wise due to our love for them we try to find innate goodness in souls twisted with perversion and evil desires.

The envelope is pushed even further when we don't want them to be caught by the good guys. We don't want Lestat to be staked or Dexter or Tony to face the chair. Why?

Evil deserves to be eradicated and righteousness demands the right to surmount. That's the mantra we all grew up with. The meek shall inherit the earth but as sinners is it possible that we tend to understand the motives of other sinners and at least in the fictional world want them to have the last laugh?

Another show that has the morale brigade up in arms is a new CBS show called Swingtown. Its more like an adult version of That 70's show where the old and new world collide. Though the storyline of Swingtown centers more or less around the burgeoning sexuality of a teenager and her mother, it also tests our own levels of social acceptance.

Most of us consider swingers to be weirdos but when a perfectly happy couple decide to sleep with another couple not only do we, as viewers, find ourselves grappling with our perception of right and wrong but reflect upon the insecurities of the characters themselves who otherwise had led conservative lives in the past.

The couple who continue to lead a normal life seem boring and stodgy whereas the ones willing to move with the trends of the time hip and daring.

While there is more to Swingtown than I'm discussing here, what got me thinking was the deliberate manipulation on the part of the script writers to make the regular couple seem mundane. Similarly in Dexter and The Soprano the scriptwriters made the cops ineffectual and the bad guys devious, charismatic and intriguing.

That, in my mind, is the crux of the matter just like in SpiderMan 3 where Peter under the influence of evil becomes cool, confident and oozing with sex appeal.

We are made to think that heaven is boring and hell is entertaining, that regular Superheroes like Superman are simplistic whereas dark heroes like Batman, Hellboy, Hulk or even Iron Man are far more interesting. Where simple living and being content is not interest worthy but a spicier, adventuress living for the moment, economically prosperous life is more pleasing.

Does media then have some sort of an unconscious effect on our psyche? Where we may find ourselves accepting more than just some liberal change in social norms such as swingers and take it to a higher level where we empathize with certain kinds of psychopaths if they are packaged and marketed just right?

Tales of suave criminals such as Charles Sobraj abound and titillate the public . People fall in love with murderers and marry them and there are times when crimes of passion intrigue the masses and fiction then replicates reality as it happened with the Nanavati Case back in the fifties. We tend to think we are saner than these people who find glamor in lives of criminals but then in the fictional world find ourselves seduced by evil or it that we find our own innate darkness reflected in their deeds?

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 07:20 AM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

When it comes to good gardening books there are numerous to choose from and I tend to gravitate towards those which have more practical tips to offer rather than just glossy pictures.

Last week I picked up four gardening books that I've poured over from page to page and even re-read. These are must- haves for anyone who is remotely interested in gardening and is still at the beginner or intermediary gardening stages.

Panty Hose, Hot Peppers, Tea Bags And More For The Garden

The book is as creative as the title. Old household items can be used in the garden and some even  add that extra creative touch to the garden like putting an old teapot near a pond for a toad to reside in. The book provides tips on how to get rid of weeds, harmful insects and on how to keep pets away from ponds, seedlings and expensive plants. Just about any thing can be recycled and it gets the mind ticking in the right direction.

Constructing A Garden

This book is a slim read but with useful information on the planning, designing and maintaining of gardens. Ideas are provided for landscaping of formal and informal designs and even the placements of plants around ponds. 

Different kinds of mulches and paving materials have been discussed along with the right kind of methods for pruning, sowing, propagating, division etc have been shown with pictures.

What makes this book handy is the specific details provided for those without any prior training in gardening.

Both these books are available at Strand (Bangalore). Another book which is a pleasure to posses is-

The Cook's Garden 

Nothing satisfies the soul than to eat what grows in one's garden. Since I am still a newbie when it comes to growing vegetables this book has been of great help. Apart from providing information as to which herb, fruit or vegetable should be grown at which season the book also provides handy recipes and preserving techniques.

The pictures provided are pleasing to the eye and the information encourages us to put our gardens to use rather than just please the eye.

Another book that can bring the family together is-

Fun With Gardening 

This book comes in handy to get small kids excited about growing vegetables and herbs in their backyard. It provides imaginative ideas like having a little water garden in a Tupperware or designing a little potted desert with cacti along with growing potatoes, bulbs etc.

This book is also available at Strand. As it happens there are some Indian gardening books available at Blossoms but are more detailed, informative but less exquisite to the eye.

These books have helped me get better acquainted with nature and provided hours of relaxation.

Posted by Deepti Lamba at 09:18 PM Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

There is no charge for awesomeness or attractiveness.
--------------------------Kung Fu Panda

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