After listening to his father and me discuss some stuff that involved the words 'point of view', good ol' pintsize pipes up:
Mama, what is your point of view on Daddy?
To which I can only but reply, not very positive, son, not very positive.
Very well said, Sangeetha ji. Now rock the vote, kind readers. Any passionate supporters for the rest of the names? Out you come.Vote Watch – 17 September, 2010
I don’t understand politics. I have not watched a televised exit/opinion poll in three hundred years. That dual qualification makes me an expert in elections and such (yes, you know better than to argue with an expert; more so, a self-proclaimed one). And since this election happens to happen at the happening Chez Parul, I am just going to jump in and offer my USD 0.02/Euro 0.0152/£
0.0127/AUD 0.0217 (read: establish myself as a moron on the interwebs). So peoples, hoshiyaar, khabardaar, and some other associated daars as well while you are it… we want a free and fair poll!
With five contestants in the fray, eleven days left to vote, and with the handy option to change your vote (note: this is cool tool, dear voters), I can already see Parul in my mind’s eye, looking every bit the charming author that she is, sitting by a cackling fireplace in a structure, the shape of which can best be defined as: not geometrically straight, and the semantics of which can best be described as cozy, warm and inviting. This is for those who speak. If you are like me and you squeak, then just think cheese, and then think which word jives the best with it from among the candidate names. You are guaranteed a light-bulb moment. Enough said!
So yes, this is a free and fair poll, like I already established. Let it not be said that I displayed favouritism towards a candidate. If I wanted to do that, I’d be saying - Vote for the Crooked Cottage, folks!
PS1. I heart scones.
PS2. The devil refused to buy my soul. He said he hadn’t seen a pure, made-of-24-carat-gold soul like mine in all his years of devil-ry. He referred me to a Mumbai-based jeweler, though.
The soul of India lives in its villages, said Gandhi (MK) at the turn of the century. For a while another Gandhi (R) has been concentrating on something other than India's big cities. Why is it then that the siren song of the city lures our young so? In the past decade I have noted with dismay as celluloid dreams and aspirations rather than Mera Gaon Mera Desh have turned Metro and all things urban.
Today with a grieving heart I look at the latest election results for the poll on Parul's blog. For a while we gained some succor from the fact that strong family values like Baithak and The Crooked Cottage were in the forefront.( I make a case for The Crooked Cottage lest we forget Hamara Des Hamari Taj-e-Bartania ki Parampara...frankly all that remains now is Angrezo kay waqt kay jailor, tailor, Congress and well dreams of that garden shed where we will have our secret club one day.) Baithak reminded us of a gentler time, and now that women have access to it you can't accuse it of being the men's club it was (see even the village is changing).
To tell you the truth Baithak and The Crooked Cottage ask you to lend them your ears and they will offer you some biskoot chaa pani (scones too if you choose the cottage). Today, I see that upstart of a Bambayia radio channel making dents into our heartland, is nothing sacred any more?Hamara Des, Hamarey Sanskar? bring them back I say.
|Me in that scarf! This picture (also my profile picture) was taken on holiday last year in Kerela. I was expecting Ragini then. So much time has already passed.|