100 ka chutta nahi milenga...

 100

That's the number that all of India seems to be pretty fixated with at the moment. Well, if not the entire nation, then Mumbai is, for sure...Following Sachin's 100th 100, two weeks ago - all forms of the media have gone absolutely berserk commemorating the Man. In usual Indian style, we have decided that the Little Master may now officially exit ODI's and continue to rake it in through all the other means.Gladly, Sachin has been vocal in establishing the contrary to this thought by assuring the masses that as of now, he shall continue professional cricket.

But a rather interesting development (since I began writing this post, 5 days ago!) is that Sachin has elegantly stepped down as the captain for Mumbai Indians and has neatly handed this gift to Bhajji.
Arey aila - hey kai Sachin? IPL cha chaska side varoon honar? (translation- "oh mother! Whats this Sachin? Ready to enjoy the IPL from the side line?")


Meanwhile Harbhajjan and his various chickitas must be going wild, doing the balle balle with several patiala pegs being had! Bhajji says,

"Sachin bhai spoke to me a few days back and told me about his decision. It's a great honour for me to lead Mumbai Indians in such a big tournament," said Harbhajan. "I would like to thank Nita (Ambani) bhabi and Sachin paaji for giving me this responsibility and showing faith in me. It was a difficult moment when Sachin expressed his desire to quit captaincy. But we all believe that he is the best person to take the final call on such matters." 

For a non-IPL person (notice, I didn't say "fan") like me; who remains fairly indifferent to all the tamaasha surrounding this sporting event - I am sure, that it will be another season of great glamour, excitement, entertainment and controversy!!

SO, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!



Chulo, now you tell me, what can we get in Rs. 100 nowadays?
Go on, scratch your head...

Many of us (sadly and shockingly) might draw a blank. Our lives have gotten tres cheres...we are living in Grand times.
This is quite true. Take your average entertainment costs that have sky rocketed! One movie trip burns a sizzling Rs. 500 debt in an individual's pocket, if you are going to a city multiplex. Petrol up, khaana up, peena up, cigarette up, sleeping bhi up...we should value the rare, free moments that life brings us.

This year was my first year filing my taxes. I spent several hours in the last few weeks of March getting my salary and bank balance in order. I was shocked by how much I "owed" the government. "Over and above all the indirect taxes we dish out with out some times realizing, we are condemned to pay yet some more at the end of each year?!

Feeling beaten and tiny, I left for home and stopped off for a pick-me-up work out at the Bombay Gymkhana. As I was leaving, I looked across the street as I always do, toward Fashion street. This evening, it seemed that the hawkers were really calling out to me. "I mustn't ignore them," I thought as I made my way to my favorite stall. I made sure to grab the very last note I had and fortunately it was Rs. 500 - Jackpot!

15 minutes of blissful haggling later, I jumped back into my car with a little bag of new summer wear. Not bad 1 dress and 2 blouses for half a grand...I felt rich.It was comforting to know that there were still some things that were delightful and yet accessible to my threadbare wallet!

That's the great thing though, we are known as "resourceful" Indians. And it is true - we are rather resourceful - we are completely capable of often pulling a rabbit out of a hat, if that is the need of the hour. But I wonder how long we can rely on our resourcefulness? I will not cease to have the utopian hope that one fine day we shall enjoy safe and sound governance. There will be an authority that will use our money to give us smooth roads, a safe metro to commute across the ever-expanding city, water bodies in place of gutter bodies, fragrances instead of stenches........this list could go on.


How about your 100ka100 list in the mean while?

Delhilicious

Another splendid time was had in Capital city. I went there this weekend for the first ever edition of the India Design Forum (www.indiadesignforum.com). The purpose of this 2 day forum was to look at the role of design as shaping our futures, and also the role that India plays in contributing to the world of design.

A very relevant initiative indeed, put together by Rajshree Pathy and her daughter, Aishwarya. The 2 day forum was organised as a series of discussions and talks given by imminent people from the world of design, art, architecture, fashion and industry; both from India as well as internationally. There were some really great speakers, such as Paola Antonelli, Senior Curator from the Department of Architecture and Design, Museum of Modern Art (MoMA; Karim Rashid Design Guru, Manish Arora, to name a few. It was a sincere effort that succeeded in marrying all these different world together at a common platform, to educate and to synergise the various disciplines that work together in the realm of design. There was a huge contingent of students who got access to these talks....access that they probably would not have been able to get normally.

To top it off, Architectural Digest, timed its launch with this event, and it was the icing on the cake for all. They pulled off a splendid launch in the lawns of the Aman. The setup they had created was really, top class! It was a real pity that one couldnt get to stay outdoors longer and enjoy the crisp Delhi air and the ambiance. The party was shifted indoors at 10.45 PM....Grrr to all our rules.

Cool or what!?

But what really and truly surprised and inspired me was the discovery of the lovely Hauz Khas Village.

o
m
g

Why have I ever not been do this little gem-like part of Delhi before? I went there imagining a quaint, fancy, up-scale hood; bubbling with fashion boutiques and cafes.
It was all  that and more. So much more! I have never been to Dilli as a tourist and every time I go there, I have my nose stuck to the window marveling at the wonderful buildings. Each time I drive past India Gate, my heart skips a beat with nationalistic fervor. The sight of the Qutab - just, right there - always humbles me. So when I found myself roaming through the tiny and dusty little gullis of hk, I was thinking, "here I am, shopping amidst fantastic ruins, there's a man made water body here, a tomb there, ahhh look at that amazing doorway. Where will it take me?!"  Although HK had more than just just reels of exposed wires and half-bulldozed buildings all over, there was beauty in every nook and corner. The stores there all carried such interesting and cool merchandise. There were the latest up and coming designers who had chosen this as the location for their premier flagship boutique. There were the hippest and most charming cafes and eateries....For sure, Gunpowder and Elma's bakery wins hands down. Go to Elma's for a charmed afternoon spent over chai and scones. DELISH!

When you're done with that, stop at the Hauz to watch the sun setting through the arches of the fort...

Come find me, for I plan on stealing several afternoons day dreaming away, snuggling in one of the many tiny nooks!

Vintage store

One man's junk; another man's art

Stairway down to heaven

A truly blissful hours were spent there. 

That's Haute!

 

Check out the latest campaign images for Nirav Modi Jewels....lust worthy!

We found Love in a hopeless place....

No matter how jaded, twisted, contorted our lives become, there is nothing that can take away from the amazement of birth.
The Miracle of Life is something the human race can't ever fathom or comprehend completely. And it is most certainly one process that we can't ever try (or dare) to fabricate. Since timmemorial, we continue to remain spell bound by this natural miracle, and this is an eternal truth; if there is one!

Ok, I'm being much too profound for my own good...but am overcome by a wave of wonderment and gratitude particularly so today on the ocassion of my niece's first birthday. I can't believe that it has been a year since tiny little Anasuya Rania came into our world and changed the way we knew it...

I went over to my sister's house last evening to be briefed on the drill for the birthday celebration that shall take place this evening and my sister and I just watched our ladoo playing with her bazar of toys, singing, dancing, walking....when did she grow!?
My sister and her husband have been extremely hands-on parents (with a wee bit of help. of course! haha) and have enjoyed every (well, almost) part of this incredible process. As for myself, it is great being a maasi. My claim to fame is, that the little one's name was given by me. I was reading the  Mahabharata (abridged version!!) a year and a half ago, and was noting names that were of interest to me for later reference. Anasuya was the name of the wife of Atri muni and the name means "free of all evil and jealousy". Beautiful non?
I thought the name was in perfect sangam as mine and my sisters' and hence clearly a keeper!

Now I shall set off fort he baccha-party...my duties include helping the guitarist handing out candy to enthusiastic children , making sure there is adequate photo coverage and not to forget, making sure there are tons of bubbles being blown during the cake cutting "ceremony".

Happiest birthday to our little ladoo...keep us forever enchanted!

Ahhh....bliss

 

Baby cries...I cry!

Naughty!

 

Stolen moment

Oscar Fever

Loving every moment of this year's Academy Awards.

Gwyneth is dressed to impress,

Angelina is burning it up

whilst Jlo tries............too much botox.

YENJOY!

A Silent Revolution

An ironic title after my long hiatus from this space...

No, i wasn't trying to make a point by remaining “silent”, I simply haven't had the time to pen any of my thoughts. And believe me, there has been a lot of thinking going on in the past few weeks.

But first up, I just had to write about “The Artist” to which the title of this post owes its name. I dragged my trusting (and vela!) sister, Anandita to Inox for a Saturday night movie treat. I was most keen to watch any of the new Oscar releases and it so happened that the timing for “The Artist” was most preferable.
Both of us were beyond exhausted from a week of busy-bodiness and I know she was obliging me by coming with me for the movie. We entered the cinema late and I was a bit surprised to enter to a black and white screen with no audible dialogue. I pressed her hand and whispered, “I think it is just a movie in a movie, Anna...” But five minutes in, and I realised that we were indeed watching a silent, black and white movie out of the late 1920’s! (This is a good time to die of embarrassment from my supreme ignorance to this highly acclaimed movie!)

“Ok, Ok, don’t fret. Grab a coffee. Acclimatize. Enjoy the cultural enrichment...it is after all, a front runner for grabbing the top academy award accolades. It has got to be very good.”

And you know what? It was better than good, it was excellent. Sure, it isn’t the coolest Saturday night plan, but it was an education; and a romantic one in that.

Jean Dujardin....aie aie aie. What a man. He has the same effect on me as Jon Hamm in Mad Men has. I dont know what it is was about those days...the slick-back shiny hair, the 3 piece suits, the swagger and strut with which they walked or is was it all about the macho pride they cultivated? I supposed it is the combination of it all that makes men such as these, utterly swoon worthy for women in this generation. We live in a different world, a world where men and women supposedly co-exist in equality, what men can do, women must do...and all that jazz...Today androgyny is in - women dress like men and men dress like women. Yeh hai style, boss.

So it was an immense pleasure to be transported to another era, an era of good ol' Hollywood drama, of pencil mustaches, of grand romantic gestures, of tap-dance, and of loyalty and most of all, amazing fashion! I couldn't believe that the usual me (i.e - fidgety and easily distracted) was pretty riveted right from the start, with a movie format hitherto unknown to me. To think that in this age of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious movie making, where one is looking out for the best technology in sound, in picture, in dubbing, in makeup, in costume; this movie marks a brave, inspired and perhaps I can say, an audacious move by director, Michel Hazanavicius.

Am sure now that the movie has sweeped up all the awards, more of us will make the effort to watch it. I urge as many to go - even if its to watch Jean's amazing dog or the scene where Peppy Miller has her moment with suit or if nothing, then to just to watch the final scene...tippity, tappity, tap!

And that's how it's done, folks!

Chicken a la Kyiv

My only known reference of Kiev before my visiting it, was the name of this chicken preparation, which I had anyway suspected was another great 'Indianism', known only by us desis...and of course this hunch was true. There is no Chicken A La Kiev on any menu in Kiev; in fact there are hardly any chicken preparations on any of the menus! The most popular meat in Kiev is pork, without a doubt! There is simple pork, pork tongue, pork knuckle and good ol' pork fat. Not to mention, the incredible selection of fish - salmon, tuna and Bassa are staples, along with several local river fish.

But what I found most pleasantly surprising was the eclectic, innovative and variety of cuisines available in Kiev. Jap food seemed to be the number one foreign cuisine and the quality and preparation of the sushi, sashimi, algae was amazing. Most streets would have at least 1 sushi bar on it.

I think the second favourite would have to be the kyivians fondness for Irish pubs, which were not just all over the city, but also buzzing at all times.

No city in the world is semi-decent if it doesn't have it's fair share of desi joints, and voila, Kiev didn't disappoint at all. From the fancy 'Sutra' (aka short for Kamasutra - complete with erotic wallpaper) to the centrally located 'Himalaya', to the highly recommended 'Bombay Palace' which I dined at, one has much to pick and choose from.

The local Ukranian cuisine is fairly popular of course. I had a great meal of 'boursch', a bouillon like soup. The green boursch was defo better than the chicken boursch. I stayed away from all the special meat and pork preparations...but had a delectable perfect, sesame-seared tuna with a sort of garlic and spinach butter sauce on the side. I also tried a lethal, wasabi-like paste, which was perhaps composed of beet root, red cabbage and copious amounts of ginger. But wait, I forgot to add, every course of the meal was broken by an essential shot of vodka. Yup...that is how it is done. And Nemiroff, is definitely the vodka to have when in Kiev! I must admit I only had this vodka-infused meal once...it was memorable to say the least!

Due to the -20 degree clime, the streets were not as busy as usual (with good reason, I say!), but the much-hallowed night life of Kiev was not too disrupted. Unfortunately I was there when there was a cold wave and temperatures were much lower than usual (trust my luck!), a lot of snow was sitting heavy all over the city. With restrictions of Mother Nature and also timing (I was there from Sunday to Wednesday), I didn't get a decent enough idea of the crazy city life. I did venture out and did get a glimpse into how the scene must be on a regular 0 degree evening. After a seriously detailed research on where to go that blessed -22 degree night, we were told that Vodka bar was the place to be. OK, Vodka Bar was where we were headed. But not without making a pit stop at the widely known, 'D'Lux' or as we understood it, 'The Looks'. EVERYONE told us that this is where the party is at. It is a stunning club at the end of a fairy light lined path in a pretty garden. Over two levels and with an impressive glass facade, I'm pretty sure that it was where the party would be. Alas, I need to go another time to test it in its true avtaar, when all the colourful butterflies are out, wings flapping et all!

Unlike most winter-struck cities which get most depressing during the cold, Kiev was lively and quite the contrary. Still in an X'Mas state of mind (vodka mist perhaps?), the entire city is lit up with giant snowflakes on the building facades and there are many Santas efficiently standing guard outside hotels, stores, homes and other places of interest.

Given that Kiev is a pretty tiny city and is still a city experiencing heavy infrastructure development, it's got everything a cosmopolitan, 'first world' city has. Now with the UEFA cup finals taking place there from June to July, Kiev is definitely going to come to light on the international travel map. With its close connection to Russia, one sees some seriously fancy folk in Kiev. Sitting at the lobby bar or the Intercontinental Hotel, I got to see some pretty cool sights.  It's ex-soviet status, makes for a mysterious setting of men in dark suits, beautiful women dressed in incredible fur, under-the-table work, furtive eye movement, KGB spies and heavy-duty CCTV cameras! What i found extremely alluring was the groups of men that would come in and be there all day long, chain-smoking, talking, drinking espressos and essentially, cracking deals of dubious nature. One guy in this group would typically be a government official, another a financier, one a middleman and of course, the main guy. After a bit of trained observing I realised, most of these groups, would have an accompanying group in tow. But this other group would usually come separately, sit separately and leave separately. These guys were the watchers and the bodyguards. Exciting right?! I certainly thought so...I saw lots of Americans, Germans and Iranians, with a smattering of Italians schmoozing and cruising their way through.

Must add, these men are kinda creepy with x-ray vision, one look from any of them your way, and you feel exposed!

But what finally defines a place is the people and the experience one gets from interacting with the local folk and I had a fantastic experience on that note. I found the people incredibly warm (ironic!), extremely helpful, charming and approachable. Despite the obvious communication barrier, sign language went a loooong way. It was nice to have happy smiling faces around. Usually I tend to get quite stuck in countries where the English language isn't popular - I feel flustered and embarrassed asking for directions, for water, for anything!

My best friend in Kiev has now become Vlodymor, the jolly cab driver whom we called every day. A modern day porky pig meets captain haddock, this chap was most endearing. He had a great sense of humour and an even better sense of music, cranking up the volume for every pumping track that would come on. He drove us around his city with pride, pointing out all sorts of sights not to be missed. In his broken English, he would share little anecdotes. Knowing that I was loving the local tunes, one evening, he asked me, "Aaru you like d rock muzeek?" My answer was vague, "hmmm yes I like d rock muzeek some times...." We were at a signal so his round self turned to the back and he looked at me and added, " I love d rock muzeek bheryy much. I like d rock muzeek and I like d motor bike. I go long on the motor bike with the d rock muzeek." As if I didn't think he was cool enough already..!

Final thoughts – much to get back to…starting off with a Nemiroff-fueled breakfast. As the saying goes, when in Kyiv, do as the Kyivians!