chaotic order

The Blonde story.. What is it about Blondes? I remember reading Annete Kuhn, a respected feminist critique of films define three types of Blonde stereotypes that have profoundly affected western culture’s perception of women with light or yellow colored hair: a. Ice-cold Blonde: a blonde who hides a fire beneath an exterior of coldness. b. Blonde bombshell: a blonde with explosive sexuality and is available to men at a price. c. Dumb blonde: a blonde with an overt and natural sexuality and a profound manifestation of ignorance. The common denominator running through all three categories is that Blondes are physically stunning, and no man can pretend to turn away his face from her without casting a surreptiously glance at her magnetic attraction, or experiencing a soul cuddling desire to possess her. A blonde girl with a buxom body coupled with deep blue eyes attracts Male attention like no other category of the feminine sex. Something to do with genetics, I guess…Male testoster

Two sets of Air attendants with two different kinds of values they bring to the job: On my way to Melbourne, I travelled Virgin Australia- manned by some of the finest young ladies in the business: Immaculately dressed in red, glowing complexion, beautiful, smart, well groomed, eyes glimmering with fierce pride and a gait that exuded raw confidence in their own selves, professional by the book with a not an extra glance or word more, sticking punctually to their codified schedules with robotic rigor... And on my return journey , I was on a Delta flight operated by mature (many of them old) ladies whose eyes spoke of little weariness and lots of experience; tolerant, going about their job with a practiced and unpretentious ease - smiling without reservations, patting someone’s back with natural maternal affection, spending extra time with young mothers whispering sweet nothings to their kids; gently chastising self-absorbed husbands, walking down the aisle regularly(out of schedule..)

What can be more pleasurable, intellectually stimulating than spending an evening with one of the brightest, enterprising and mercurial software brains that I know of in a nightclub (colloquially called a Strip bar) with garrulous laughter all around me; naked sultry girls and boys hanging, gyrating and lasciviously leaning over a pole; Sweaty bodies meandering aimlessly in the midst of swirling intoxicating music; alcohol flowing in thick density lowering inhibitions and heightening passion - and here we were, Bill (name changed) and me, holding a can of coke in our hands and talking over the mystic lure of programming and idealistic abstractions of Spinoza’s “Ethics”. Bill is a MIT drop out. Nearly six foot tall, in his mid-forties: he began his tryst with programming in a small gaming company in Silicon Valley – disgruntled soon enough; joined a music band and played the electric guitar for a while before his inner urge to code drew him again to take up a developer position in a

Aruna Shanbaug - a life ends.. In the annals of legal and Medical history in India, a tragic chapter came to a calm end outside an isolated room in Ward 4, Edward memorial Hospital Mumbai. Aruna Shanbaug died today of pneumonia - Death finally relieving her frail body of the burden of having to continue existing. She has remained in vegetative state for 42 years without the slightest indication of recuperation. Besides breathing, defecating and being fed like a baby, there was nothing else in her mortal frame that could be constituted as living or life. Yet, she tenaciously persisted under the loving care of Hospital nurses for these long agonizing decades with not an iota of hope or respite. Though Government bureaucracy made three futile attempts in the last three decades to evict her from the bed she was occupying unproductively, the adamancy of the nurses, support of resident doctors - made it impossible for anyone to so much lay a finger upon her. They took care of her with a

What is it about Richard Gere that makes him likeable? Is it his unpretentious looks, sparkle in his eyes... or the gentle curvy dimple that blends his smile into a moments of guileless innocence; could it be those wavy strands of blonde hair that falls gently over his face and neck like beads of snowflakes enveloping a beloved prince- conferring upon him an attitude of debonair manliness; or could it just be his “masculine” presence on screen that make directors believe a movie with him is a sure road to commercial success..? Or could it be his Buddhistic leanings that give an edge of spiritual poise to his actions on screen. I am baffled. For a lover of this art form, it defies all logic that a man who is bereft of any acting talent could actually have held sway over an industry where “real” talent is everything. One thing is clear though: All his leading ladies bask in his reflected glory. From Julia Roberts to Debra wingers to Jennifer Lopez’s to Wynona Ryder’s - all of them ti

One of the fundamental lessons to be learnt and practiced meticulously while living in society is the ability, courage and understanding not to confuse roles that one plays with relationships. They are diametrically opposite to each other; and professionals who realize the difference tend to breathe fresher air and lead more invigorating lives than most others. And in my association with many such professionals - My friend Sandeep Godkhindi stands as an example of such a wa y of living. I write this short post today, as Sandeep works his penultimate day at NIIT, after having served the organization with distinction, ability, grace and profound understanding of Software education business - I have had the privilege to know and work alongside with. I deliberately wrote the last few lines in past tense because Sandeep is changing roles - that's all. To me, and to many others who have known him closely for more than a decade now - Sandeep hasn't moved anywhere at all; nor will

The first time I landed in Melbourne , nearly a decade ago - I was unmistakably recognized as an "Indian". At that time, my entire demeanor was a give away, I guess. And now, In the last two days at least two of them have asked me "Are you from America?". I am not sure, in the interim, what perceptible differences have risen in me. Well it is true, that the last three years, I have been living a resurrected life, not so much in the work I do - but more so in the inner quality of my approach, attitude and sense of what is important, meaningful - and finding in myself that spark of what it is to be truly alive and kicking. But I am not sure if that is being an "American" in that sense of the word. I don't associate myself to any identity, nationally at least. I love American soil because it helps fulfill my destiny, and I am in proud to have been born and bought in India - because it made me what I am today . Beyond this twin likings, I don't make