Breast Cancer Awareness - By revealing bra color?!

Yes folks, you can increase awareness about breast cancer - by revealing the color of your bra on your Facebook status :-|

God knows how this fad came into being, but I personally feel this is insulting to people - in the sense that people are updating their status message to titillate, rather than for any other reason. Some examples I found in my own Facebook page - black and grey zebra stripes, bright red, magenta, and this one from a humor-loving soul - commando! Believe me, for families with breast cancer victims, this is simply not funny.  And how exactly is this helping, anyway? Apart from garnering a few "XYZ and 10 other people like this!"s, some rather questionable comments, ooohs, LOLs, and other irritating compliments, this trend does nothing.

Please, gurls - Trends are good, being "in" is good, but hey, do not follow every Tom, Dick, and Harry trend that comes your way! Have fun - I am a firm believer of having fun anytime, anywhere - but no, not like this. If people are so very keen on helping, then do something worthwhile.

And no, that doesn't include letting the world know the color of your undies, thank you very much.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

It was with mixed feelings that I picked up this book at Landmark... And boy, did I take the right decision! Folks, I finally completed the first book of the Millennium Trilogy. And all I can say is, I can't wait to ravage the next one! Set at a breakneck pace, this compulsive whodunit really did it for me;-) I spent a couple of sleepless nights over it, itching to get to the end and find out who did it, after all.

Mikael Blomkvist is a disgraced financial journalist who has been summoned to a small village in the back of beyond, to meet a 80-year old former industrial giant. He is entrusted with the strangest investigation he might ever have come across - to find out who in the family murdered his beloved grand-niece Harriet, about 40-odd years earlier. What seems like an impossible quest soon turns out to be one hell of a ride - Mikael finds out bits and pieces of the puzzle, and unearths alarming, and spine-chilling facts about the family that make the monster Frankenstein look like a saint.

I had reached that point in the story where I began to believe that Blomkvist was the protagonist, the hero, blah blah, when Lisbeth Salander made her presence known. The full force of Lisbeth Salander's character hits you with within five minutes of her entrance; trying to actually describe her is an exercise in futility.  The most unconventional heroine I've ever come across, Lisbeth's entrance marks the point in the novel that makes it un-put-downable, and the story begins to race. Riveting is the word how the book can be described; this one is a must-read for all suspense and thriller buffs.

I don't want to reveal too much of the story here, so people, take me at my word - if you haven't already, then go out and get it. This one's a keeper. The girl, the dragon tattoo, and of course, the book. ;-)

Telangana and Me

Politics is not a topic that interests me; I guess this is the very first post in my blog concerning politics of any sort. But then, this is the very first time politics have affected me so personally.

November Rain

Somehow, rain always makes me feel like curling up in a chair by the window, with a cup of coffee in hand, and an old book; walking in the rain was something I never even considered doing. A couple of days ago, when it started raining, I decided to forgo my usual cuppa and head out for a walk. It was dusk - that time of the day when people like to snuggle on their couches with the TV remote.

I had barely walked a few steps when I saw these kids squatting by a small pool the rain had made, paper boats in hand. I was hit almost immediately by a wave of nostalgia; my own childhood, the days of getting drenched in the rain oblivious to the screams, rants and threats of my parents; running down the street with friends, following eagerly the paths of our paper boats meandering their way through the rivulets of rain.

I realized that as I grew up I slowly forgot to appreciate life's smaller joys; the joys that made my entire childhood so much more memorable. The joy of running home after school at full speed, with that lightness in the heart that another day of lessons was finally over. The joy of playing in the street with other brats, oblivious to passers-by, oblivious to the dirt, oblivious to time, oblivious to everything. The joy when my gran used to make my favorite dish without my asking, and the joy that came when I knew I could have as much as I wanted to :D The joy of finding a sparrow's nest right inside the house, and accepting those tiny birds as a part of the family; the joy of making stupid faces and shouting at the top of my voice (as loudly as my lungs would allow it) just for the heck of it, knowing full well that none in the family would even bat an eyelid ;-)

I wonder how many of these joys are possible now without raising eyebrows. I hope as we grow older we appreciate these tiny experiences, maybe take a few moments out of our day to remember them, and tell ourselves that life is not that serious after all. It's just as serious as we want it to be.

What's in a name? Lots!

What the hell is in a name, Shakespeare might have said.

I disagree, having spent more than three hours searching a name for my new blog. It was like my blog was jinxed; every single darn name I tried was already taken. In my desperation I started trying out song names - no luck. Even www.noname.blogspot.com was taken, for Chrissakes! Cmon! And even more exasperating was the fact that many of these blogs seemed to have been started on a spurt of creativity, and then pushed back into the recesses of the blogger's minds. Lot many had just a single post on em, dating back to as far as 2001. In blogging terms, they might as well have been created during the B.C. period!

I had planned on starting a blog about interesting things happening in the digital world - could be anything, ranging from appealing, out-of-the-box websites, to start-ups, to any interesting news, whatever. I most especially did not want my name in the URL. Finally, after a lot of head banging, cursing, contemplative minutes later I hit on this - kreativeblitzkrieg.

Yeah, I know, it cant get worse than this one. So please, guys, if you've got any suggestions, do let me know. Mucho appreciated.

Smokey Smokersons

No, this is not some new hookah or cigar joint. Am talking about the dreaded smoke emitting, fume spitting, soot enveloped vehicles rampant on the streets of Hyderabad. God forbid that you get stuck behind one such monster during rush hour; you might end up choking, suffocating, and cursing your bike, due to which you are being made to endure such torture. It's a damn wonder why no action is ever, ever taken against these poisons. The traffic police obligingly stop every other person on a bike and demand to see each and every document under the sun (including our insurance papers, dammit!) failing which they subtly ask for a couple of hundred bucks. Catch hold of these bozos, for a change!

My eyes are almost always red-rimmed by the time I reach office, triggering rumors that I might be a crybaby. Pssst, I bet she's the sort who's been crying since childhood about not going to school, college, and now, the office, heh. No, guys! Not me! Anyways, I have no idea whether such constant exposure to the smoke might affect my eyes; I know for sure it's affecting my nerves. I bite back all the dirty swears that rise to my lips when I get a gust of thick black smoke blown directly into my face. And go home fuming. No wonder I'm not able to get any fairer, heh. I wish to God there was some solution to this; sadly, apart from moving permanently to a village that knows only bullock carts, I dont see any light on the horizon.

Yoohoo, my first vote!

Yay! I voted today for the very first time! 25 years old, and I voted for the first time today? Uhhuh! Oh well, let me not think of that.

It doesn't matter that I had to stand in the blazing sun for almost an hour, it doesn't matter that I've got this big ugly blue stain on my finger; all that matters is I voted, and I sorta like the feeling! I hope all you guys out there voted, too. If you didn't, or couldn't, doesn't matter, you can always vote on April 23rd. Don't forget.

In the meanwhile, let me concentrate on getting this stain to disappear. It looked pretty cool at first, but now it just looks like a big stubborn blot of ink, and I've got a wedding to attend this Saturday. Maybe I'll have some comfort in knowing that none of my friends can boast of having had this stain, save for one or two. Hehe.

Update: Attended the wedding. A couple of behenjis asked me whether I accidentally poured acid on my finger. Jeeeez!

8*10 Tasveer Review

This was one movie which I really looked forward to, partly due to the fact that it was a suspense thriller, and partly because it was directed by Nagesh Kukunoor. I was not named Late Kate for nothing. I reached the theater late, and we missed the first 10 minutes of the movie. I could hear my friends cussing under their breath. Aww hell, God, let em please understand the movie! I prayed under my breath.

All my prayers were needless though, cos Akshay seemed to know what we missed, and he obligingly went back to the past and showed us every scene. Yeah! He can concentrate really hard on a pic (yup, 8*10 dimensional pic!) and go back to that exact scene, and replay the events in his head. Ahh well. He spends the entire 2 hours trying to solve his Dad's murder mystery. OK, so we figure the suspense out like in about 10 minutes, but it seems like the characters are hell bent upon making Akshay use his damn gift. Sort of like, when we were kids, and used to do our homework; everyone knew 2 plus 2 equals four, but forced us to use our brains nevertheless.

For starters, guys, Akshay's Dad instead of blurting the killer's name, blubbers about Tasveer and all kindsa shit. Same goes with Momma; when she's conveniently stabbed, she could've just spelled out the name and saved us from the misery. Instead, she leads him on a whole lot of puzzles, asks him to go to the attic, and what not. Yup! This and more is in store for you if you are that gullible and watch this movie.

Man Oh man! Listening to Javed Jaffrey's broken Hyderabadi Hindi was a torture to Hyderabadi ears. His fake accent, fake acting, fake hair style, yup, I guess Ayesha Takia was as fed up with him as we were, and when she couldn't take it anymore she just used the axe on him out of sheer desperation. We're not complaining, Ayesha!

OK, this is not a spoiler, but lemme tell you guys this - If only Akshay had spared just one minute to peek into Ayesha-goody-goody-smile-Takia's past, we would've been spared all this unnecessary torture. The movie would've wrapped up within 10 minutes.