tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915222541791305072012-02-19T18:54:48.352-06:00Oscillating between the fine print and the big picture. Traveling with a mixed bag of interests.Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.comBlogger1191100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-649521322821398902012-02-19T18:48:00.000-06:002012-02-19T18:54:48.369-06:00

Sometimes the best way to gauge something's presence is not to explicitly look for it's signs, but to see how far the thing it was supposed to curb has receded. I have been struggling since 6 months to even begin making sense of the extant literature on participation. I have looked through everything that I could lay my hands on. Literature from Political economy, social and rural development,

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-24992465225900465792012-02-15T09:39:00.000-06:002012-02-15T10:06:46.258-06:00

Gulzar's lyrics stream gently through the morning fog that Austin is enveloped in today. Last night after working until late on campus, I walked to the library to borrow a book on him. PCL's checkout facilities operate until 11.45 pm and I fully intended making use of this. It also had "Because he is.." the coffee table book authored by his daughter Meghna Gulzar. I took that one and another

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-33265062487843915602012-02-13T22:30:00.000-06:002012-02-16T00:36:14.325-06:00

In the minds of some it has already begun. Until now, that thought was my own.  Yes, the turbulent mix of  trepidation and eagerness that the thought arouses still belongs to me and me alone. But today I was made aware that the thought has now actively taken root in the minds of other's too. When this thought would visit me earlier, it would sprout briefly at various different times before

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-41117509749615833212012-02-04T03:09:00.001-06:002012-02-04T03:13:31.865-06:00

I just received an official email addressed to "Dr Mudliar". Besides being premature and IMHO  optimistic (though I am hoping it is a sign), it is also making me feel very masculine. Perhaps because Dr appears so similar to Mr. Also, this Dr Mudliar that this email is addressing seems like the sort of person who constantly twirls his mustache. For some unfathomable reason, he also shows a

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-11596277993466970762012-02-02T17:50:00.001-06:002012-02-02T23:20:13.093-06:00

I walked home barefoot today. It rained unexpectedly and I did not want my kolhapuris to turn wet and limp. Plus, unlike back home in India, I didn't have to think twice about litter and shards that will poke and hurt. My feet felt the smooth sensations of concrete, therapeutically pedicured themselves on the rough pebbles of the road, and willingly splashed into many puddles on the way to the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-29287838974782859492012-02-01T11:03:00.001-06:002012-02-01T11:48:25.861-06:00

In 2004, I met Farah Khan at the Taj Blue Diamond, Pune for an interview. This was immediately the day after the press had announced her engagement to Shirish Kunder. She was in town as part of the promos for Indian Idol and the Pune press was out in full force to get her reaction. I cornered her for a one-on-one in between all the chaos that usually surrounds star press conferences. She was

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-40988290817870012132012-01-23T17:48:00.000-06:002012-01-23T17:49:43.162-06:00

As reminders for lessons that won't lend themselves to words.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-80508031889889690812012-01-07T12:40:00.000-06:002012-01-07T13:52:02.887-06:00

With every fieldwork site I encounter, there is an initial amount of time spent in grappling at the nuances of words and what they mean to the people where you are based. Not acquainted with the traditions of the Maratha community in rural Maharashtra, I tried not to show surprise when I first heard a woman talk about her 'maalak'. Translated quite simply, it means 'owner' or if you are an

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-8777369217925657982011-12-28T11:01:00.000-06:002011-12-28T21:31:02.661-06:00

My Pune-based atthai, like my dad and the rest of their family takes their craze for MGR and Sivaji Ganesan to various highs that fluctuates according to each person's eccentricity. For instance, this atthai resents living in her present apartment because Sivaji Ganesan passed away within two years of them moving in there. Likewise, each member of that family has many such stories. To be fair to

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-82067151224905518582011-12-14T11:16:00.002-06:002011-12-14T22:55:10.740-06:00

This post would not have happened were it not for two very persistent callers. While one knew of my whereabouts in Pune and was only trying to cut through my sleep, the other was more investigative in nature trying to ascertain my presence in Pune. Anyhoo, my jetlagged sleep being interrupted, I turn to the Internet to keep me occupied even as I resolutely refuse to start the task of going

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-47602095431952435062011-12-10T21:44:00.001-06:002011-12-12T01:28:41.046-06:00

Thoughts on the eve of another departure home are numerous. The bags have been packed, but nothing else. This is a novel first for me. The first time I left Austin for home, I did not have a place to come back to. So, it meant packing everything I had into boxes and leaving them in a kind classmate's garage. The second time around, I was going to be away for 8 months and so I had a guest. It

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-46366998084463449692011-11-30T23:48:00.001-06:002011-12-01T21:13:52.817-06:00

Well, what do you know. November is going to slip us by and we haven't had a single post this month. It was nice to have at least one post every month as a way to mark time and the interesting things that we have been doing if nothing else. Life is all about trying to write and then clutching our heads wondering if we will ever get out of this place. On the wall hangs a quote that is supposed to

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-63431851771712440782011-10-22T01:19:00.001-05:002011-10-22T10:05:42.574-05:00

The Perry Castaneda Library is the main library at my university - The University of Texas, Austin. It is supposedly the fifth largest amongst academic institutions in the US and eleventh overall in the country. I have never appreciated it as much as I have over the past couple of months. I returned to Austin after a 8-month stay in India. My aim was to travel and see as much as I could and

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-54325652717307552792011-10-20T22:50:00.001-05:002011-10-21T11:23:23.858-05:00

I used to sing in the school choir. Pune has this whole inter-school choral festival twice every academic year and one of the times used to be just before the X'mas vacation. I loved choir practice like nothing else.  Okay, playing basketball comes a close second. Even with  the fair Mr. Antia who used to constantly needle us saying the St. Mary's girls were way better than us and nothing

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-54319862284799796612011-10-20T22:50:00.000-05:002011-10-20T22:50:28.287-05:00

So one fine day, you do make it. You finish page 9 and your words finally spill over  to the beginning of  page 10. After two whole weeks. During this time, the thoughts would refuse to move ahead and the half blank 9th page would haunt every thought. The literature had stopped making sense. The eyes would fill with tears and tumble out. The feeling of being alone and low and wondering if you

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-52419617286633128482011-10-10T22:36:00.001-05:002011-10-22T01:24:44.556-05:00

Conversations with 3 different IIT Madras engineering grads in a span of two weeks:  IITM1: Social science is a useless subject. Anybody can do this. Why does this even exist as a discipline? Technology can solve all problems, what can you guys do? Hmmm... you seem to be very smart for a social scientist. I am glad I found you to poke fun at. Please give me your number. I'll call you. IITM2

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-46422092527453399572011-09-24T18:32:00.000-05:002011-09-24T23:12:54.120-05:00

Calcutta  A friend's Facebook status update prompted the following flying back into memory comment. I feel like I need to hold on to what I wrote. Those days seem like a long long time ago - when what was complicated then was actually very simple compared to today. They seem to be dissolving fast into only memories of what was once. Calcutta was the first grown up thing I did. A train trip

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-25442754266716730692011-09-19T21:23:00.002-05:002011-09-19T21:25:09.825-05:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-38515242150093841112011-09-16T17:03:00.000-05:002011-09-16T17:03:27.578-05:00

The invisible 'civil society' of Indians living abroad suddenly has a face for me. Testing waters with an organization that has a chapter at UT brought me face-to-face with the people who amongst other things, begin campaigns for activist Indians fighting for causes back home. It is leaving me conflicted. Primarily because Chhattisgarh raises its head again. There are various people who

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-80224940248400020192011-09-04T02:21:00.008-05:002011-09-10T15:06:23.960-05:00

We were in a hurry. There were friends and films waiting for us back home. The roommate wanted to make badam milk for everyone and we had dashed out to the neighbourhood 7/11.  It was well into the night and the parking lot was deserted when we hurried inside trying to quickly locate where the milk was in the store. It was not a shop that we were familiar with and we called out to each other when

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-28189416737093740102011-08-26T21:46:00.002-05:002011-08-29T12:46:12.665-05:00

Maybe this is the year when we get entangled with 'incidents'. Early this year this happened.  And then in the past couple of days the UTPD had to be called for help. It began yesterday with a call from an Austin area code number. The person on the other end hung up as soon as I answered. Then the text messages began. I continued to ignore them hoping that they would stop. They weren't really

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-72574539917834733722011-08-21T08:10:00.002-05:002011-08-21T08:19:05.701-05:00

The videsi desi celebrates Janmashtami. Complete with faux coconut trees. @ Radha Madhav Dham, Austin

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-70748401631991994782011-08-19T10:31:00.035-05:002011-08-19T22:06:34.611-05:00

I was welcomed back to Austin two nights ago by an Australian and a tiny little Koala bear.  The kind that can cling to anything. The man who gifted it to me was my co-passenger in the Super Shuttle that took me from the airport to my apartment. He was an Australian and this was his first time in the United States. We had another co-passenger, a seemingly surly old man who did not return the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-50432427370248929112011-08-13T07:27:00.005-05:002011-08-19T16:23:46.095-05:00

The next stop was Mhasala taluka in Raigad district which is one of the four districts that makes up the Konkan region on the western coast of Maharashtra. To get to Mhasala, we had to board the state transport bus to Shrivardhan - a popular seaside haunt that is 20 kms away from Mhasala. Since this was just a day long trip to get a feel of the place, we managed to visit only one village -

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-69419024821758352892011-08-04T09:31:00.003-05:002011-08-09T04:25:03.348-05:00

In spite of having lived all my life in the western part of India, there is so much that I have really experienced only in the past few months. Such as how the monsoon is not all about stalled vehicles, waterlogged roads or traffic jams. It can be ethereally beautiful too. I have been lucky to be on the road touring rural Maharashtra for much of the time during the past couple of months and truly

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-50444786432601438662011-08-01T07:01:00.000-05:002011-08-01T07:01:50.983-05:00

A substantial part of the fieldwork until now has spread across three districts in Maharashtra: Nandurbar, Chandrapur, and Kolhapur. Through all these districts, Chandgad taluka in Kolhapur stands out for having one of the most encouraging participation in panchayats that I have observed so far.Chandgad is the southern most point of Maharashtra. In fact, it is so far south that the easiest way to

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-71989594569032261772011-07-22T04:20:00.002-05:002011-07-22T04:27:22.164-05:00

Let me quickly write about this before the excitement of another field trip descends. Last week, I became the proud bearer of a certificate that attests to my knowledge of HTML5 and CSS. I have long wanted to gain a working understanding of web development and programming, but have really been too lazy to sit down and learn using W3C tutorials. So, I was pretty excited when I learnt of the Ozran

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-89980013102060360802011-07-12T13:14:00.001-05:002011-07-15T13:48:03.342-05:00

So it's July! From blogging every other week, to perhaps once a month, the pace has certainly taken a back seat. Let's blame it on work and more work. Most of it involved writing so the best way to take a break from that is obviously to write some more. So what's happening? Let's see. I have been very firmly stationed in Pune since the past two weeks, but could have very well been in Chhattisgarh

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-91729253049161512152011-06-20T13:39:00.002-05:002011-07-12T12:10:19.436-05:00

I had locked the blog and its feed for a couple of days. I really did not intend to start writing again. Too much of what I have written in the recent past failed to satisfy me to any degree at all. Partly due to laziness and partly due to exhaustion, I have been more concerned with chronicling the various places I am visiting than bring any meaningful stories or narratives to the table. I am

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-35012100771378652472011-06-13T21:32:00.004-05:002011-07-12T12:06:32.770-05:00

The Pune-Bangalore MSRTC bus behaved in much the same way as I did when I first kickstarted my scooty in Bangalore a few months ago. It bumbled, bungled, got lost, and then looked to the passengers who were from Bangalore for directions to get to Majestic. We finally made it at 10.00 am instead of the promised 8.30 am. Of course, the traffic did not help matters. This was the third day of the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-75904827049826358162011-06-05T01:28:00.003-05:002011-08-02T06:53:54.378-05:00

The villageNagalla village in Chandrapur district is on fire. The monsoon always hits the Vidharba region of Maharashtra late so it is strange to hear of Pune receiving a royal whacking by the rains even while I trudge up and down in the blazing sun here. Chandrapur city is 15 kms from Nagalla and that is the commercial hub for the villagers. To get to Nagalla, I took the Pune-Nagpur train and

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-66774862824279730622011-05-21T23:39:00.001-05:002011-05-21T23:42:32.053-05:00

Nandurbar was a revelation in so many many ways. From witnessing stormy gram panchayat meetings to watching the combined might of UNICEF and state government sponsored schemes push their way to enhance participatory governance in villages, to living with the Bhil tribals, to the most exciting moment about casually crossing the border on foot into Gujarat for a brief while. It was a trip with lots

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-79244822167910844052011-05-11T05:57:00.003-05:002011-05-11T06:11:08.035-05:00

In a few hours, I will be journeying towards Akkalkuwa. I only heard about this place last evening and am almost hitting the ground running with this field visit because opportunities sometimes present themselves without giving you the luxury of time. This is going to be my first experience with local self-governments in India. This is also my first experience with working for a government body.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-5255752151475722912011-05-10T10:17:00.001-05:002011-05-10T10:18:54.494-05:00

His last name could be anything, but let's call him Panday. He is short, slightly built and always neatly dressed. He is from somewhere in Uttar Pradesh and migrated to Pune two years ago in search of work. He chose Pune because his cousin had already made it here some time ago. Driving four wheelers was a skill he found he could pick up easily and he enrolled himself in a school in our

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-88396516957625047962011-05-07T04:17:00.002-05:002011-05-07T04:33:16.174-05:00

is a Saturday afternoon wrapped in the cold sweetness of muskmelons that waits for the evening bustle to come forward and swallow its quiet stillness. 

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-1571207917913984862011-05-05T08:58:00.000-05:002011-05-05T08:58:24.800-05:00

Most qualitative research projects will have that first interview. That first time when you articulate the questions that have driven your interest in a topic. In a sense, your first interview is also the first time that you are laying your thoughts on the line to an interested stakeholder of the topic. You reveal to your participant the thoughts processes that have guided your perceptions on the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-29831306715712348652011-04-30T03:12:00.002-05:002011-04-30T03:23:07.670-05:00

Faced with having to pack up a three month long life in Bangalore, bewilderment spiked procrastination has set in. I think it is because I am quite outraged at the injustice of having only one suitcase to accomplish this task. Even if it is a fine sturdy spacious Samsonite and even if I do not have to bother about weight restrictions, you think I could manage to cart off everything I liked about

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-28344394294829802572011-04-23T13:02:00.003-05:002011-04-24T05:49:30.570-05:00

I got into trouble using this title for the presentation that I made after I returned from Chhattisgarh. I could have explained why I wanted to title my presentation this way, but listening to the passionate explanation of why this was not a wholly appropriate title in an academic setting was much more informative than my own non-academic poetic reasons for doing so. I was reminded of voices from

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-59583557846553121512011-04-21T14:49:00.004-05:002011-04-27T23:24:13.976-05:00

In a former life, my name was PreetiMa'am. For a full three years. I used to teach at my beloved DCS - the place that I spent a wonderful two years getting my post-graduate degree in communication and three bitter-sweet years teaching. DCS was an experience. I entered having fled from the promise of a secure MBA seat into the uncertainty of the media profession. I had a plethora of self-doubts,

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-61149460027409640432011-04-16T05:54:00.002-05:002011-04-16T06:00:53.725-05:00

ChanguMangu returned from her field work yesterday. We went to her office at ATREE this morning  in Srirampura and encountered two slice-of-life scenes on the way. Give us today our daily water at Sriramapura, Jakkur Post, Bangalore Who needs doors anyway?Pics taken by ChanguMangu

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-82237003241100228952011-04-15T15:20:00.002-05:002011-04-15T16:02:14.073-05:00

Goodbyes are on my mind. I will spare you the details of my feelings on them and only say this much: I carried home this song the night we went to watch the film. The 'we' is the intern group at office and this was the first of many fun activities we did together as a group. We bid goodbye to one of us today. It is my turn next. Let's use the mellow melancholy of this lovely song to remember good

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-59230814846481574262011-04-14T10:07:00.002-05:002011-04-14T13:26:05.921-05:00

Dear best engineering brains in the business, You line up at the buffet five days a week for lunch. You probably have been feeding yourself long enough to know your own requirements of food. You are supposed to know about the importance of measurement and estimation and suchlike like the back of your hand, right? Right? Then, why does so much of what you serve yourself end in the waste bin? It

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-84537012264408168342011-04-11T12:51:00.002-05:002011-04-11T15:00:21.779-05:00

Sometimes, I run into India in the United States. Most times that it happens, I am misty eyed and happy being as I am in a permanent state of home sickness. Sometimes, though I run into a form of India that I chose to temporarily secede from. This India will deem it its right to tell you what is good for you. It will attempt an all-knowing paternalistic attitude and pointedly say that what you -

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-22942652039355084222011-04-09T03:44:00.001-05:002011-04-09T08:00:10.343-05:00

The only times female presence is seen on this playground is when they bear the visible markers of their school-going age. Pinafores neatly creased in the right places, hair held back by the hairbands displaying their school colors, braids doubled up and tied with red ribbons, and their activities supervised by the watchful eyes of the sports teacher. They are a part of the very many pretty

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-62520647919320221022011-03-28T13:27:00.001-05:002011-03-28T13:40:42.713-05:00

You will experience conflict. The kind that arises when you are in the shade and they in the sun; while you sit and they pull; when squeamishness about patronizing them clashes with the cold logic of how will they feed themselves if you don't.  The average cycle-rickshaw puller in Chhattisgarh usually rents his wage-earner from a seth for a daily price of Rs. 30. They could make 150-300 per day

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-69662606894854313592011-03-20T23:04:00.002-05:002011-03-21T00:21:00.277-05:00

Today morning is a bright yellow, with a dash of green and songs in the head that can make a girl dance her way to work. The only bluesy things are the jeans. 

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-26291371849540782932011-03-20T13:36:00.002-05:002011-03-21T00:21:17.358-05:00

Bangalore Band Bajaa Baraat watched for the umpteenth time Banter and bonding with sibling Burps after neer dosa Braided hair tied with a blue band Beings of the cricketing world of whom Sangakkara is the hottest Blogging in 140 characters on Twitter Blogging silly posts But who cares, cos I am so happy to be back in Bangalore! Bol baby bol, rock and roll.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-62161756995357818872011-03-18T10:51:00.002-05:002011-03-18T11:20:46.905-05:00

To me she represents everything that is right and wrong with the administrative officers in India. When I googled to know more about her, what I learned made me look forward to meeting her. She had achieved an enviable top rank the year she took the UPSC exams. She belonged to a minority community and was from a state that only now is being hailed for having the kind of leadership that would pull

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-7014063470016990122011-03-17T12:20:00.003-05:002011-03-17T21:57:33.702-05:00

Let's start by admitting that the thrill of setting out to travel in a land that is not often ventured into, all alone, has dissipated. It is important to acknowledge both the headiness that such a venture brings along and the fact that you have done it for long enough to allow the ego boost to fade and settle into normalcy. That will then allow you to take stock of the task ahead of you. This

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-70409718915935266352011-03-16T09:08:00.007-05:002011-03-17T10:24:36.139-05:00

The ones who fightThey typically have no life of their own. They walk a lot and talk a lot. They exhaust you and give you a headache with their enthusiasm. They have the kind of energy that will make you feel ashamed of your strength and make you feel lazy. They galvanize and organize. Their efforts lead to people coming together and uniting. They are seized by passion. Their families call them

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-46272154614669578482011-03-12T12:34:00.000-06:002011-03-12T12:34:30.576-06:00

India lost. Facebook and Twitter are angry and gloomy. Too late to make a reservation to my next destination. Have to coast along with a general ticket to be purchased in the am. Never done this before. Will learn something new about the Indian Railways. Living out of a tiny suitcase in various kinds of hotel rooms for over a week now. Ears overflowing with complaints. Names of the villages that

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-66508715245397886532011-03-11T12:07:00.004-06:002011-03-12T21:32:58.811-06:00

Boy, can the South Bihar Express hurtle or what! Though the train embarks from Durg in Chhattisgarh and runs up to Danapur in Bihar, it also seems to be a popular choice for folks who need to make a daily commute from Durg and Raipur to places in the northern part of Chhattisgarh. The coach that I was in saw a steady stream of people getting in and out. Nobody seemed to care if you were sitting

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-81023176926799120562011-03-10T11:48:00.005-06:002011-03-11T03:42:05.265-06:00

Another train journey, another town. Different people. Will the stories be similar? Will I have a window seat? I want to see Chhattisgarh from a train in the daytime. And this time I promise to pay better attention than the times that I have passed through it on my way to Calcutta. I want to write about my impressions of Raipur, but the mind is on other things today.Today, there is that touch of

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-91162124083025790642011-03-08T11:10:00.003-06:002011-03-08T11:19:21.435-06:00

I keep an eye out for the youth. The ones just like you and me. The ones who will grow old with you and me. What is their life like in these far away parts? What are their aspirations? What do they do for fun? I haven't yet had a chance to speak to anybody yet on these issues. I don't meet too many youth and the conversations that I have had so far with the older folks are generally far too

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-80549381408175496152011-03-07T08:06:00.001-06:002011-03-07T08:08:23.988-06:00

In spite of all my apprehensions about having to travel overnight by bus instead of train, the journey back to Raipur was not too bad. Sarguja district - the place I was traveling from has this quaint tradition that if a woman is traveling alone and they can't find another woman to seat her with, the seat goes unsold. Very women-friendly that, though I wish that a situation where you had to

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-30368737248860081882011-03-05T13:16:00.001-06:002011-03-06T23:14:28.993-06:00

You know that the journey will be an overnight one and the land strange. You decide to be prudent and eschew your favorite 2nd class sleeper coach. You log on to the ticket portal barely in time to get a 2 tier AC ticket - in tatkal. The wait-list is already 11 people down and you wonder who these people are who all want to travel to this very remote place in 2nd AC on the very same day as you.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-30127001258290506822011-03-03T21:29:00.002-06:002011-03-07T08:24:09.661-06:00

At Gate no 1. My first domestic flight and it is delayyyyyyyed. Ah well. There is lots happening around to pass time. Not that I am looking around. Free wi-fi quota expired so I plug in my brand new Reliance Netconnect. Yay. I feel so rich with information at my fingertips.  Two ladies in full ghunghat; the sari veil pulled right up to their chin. The one next to me pulls it up to peer sideways

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-78070980845341446072011-03-01T14:33:00.002-06:002011-03-01T15:03:29.358-06:00

Sometime in October 2010 when I was at the height of preparing for my comprehensive examinations, a friend uploaded pictures of his trip to Bastar and its surrounding areas in Chhattisgarh. They were beautiful, unlike anything I had seen before. To the eye jaded by the same old pictures taken in the same old foreign locales that usually crowd my timeline; the lush greenery, colorful market days,

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-48060860870954954982011-02-28T14:00:00.003-06:002011-02-28T14:30:24.993-06:00

When did I turn into the one who obsessively checks for blog stats? Who tries to match location to the people she think are reading? Who is off on an ego trip? Who presses the publish button even when she knows the post is half done? Who smirks because she knows from her Facebook timeline that she could be partly responsible for triggering a social contagion effect because of the sudden second

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-17614870713949633062011-02-26T12:09:00.003-06:002011-02-26T12:51:17.129-06:00

I discovered cooking in Austin. In the 100-page hard cover long foolscap notebook in which mom had painstakingly written down in longhand all her recipes for me. I was not a complete novice when I moved from home. I could prepare an edible meal without anyone choking. Yet, away from mom's exacting demands of doing things the right way which means her way or ummm her way; Austin was where I truly

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-76151772632508947342011-02-20T10:06:00.003-06:002011-02-26T12:50:42.439-06:00

The number of times that it has happened to me are probably too numerous to count. Not that I am a special case. At least one conversation between me and all of my gal friends have involved the unwanted attention and sexual harassment that every single one of us have been subject to in the public space. I have yet to come across a woman here who has not had a story to share. The degree of

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-44567167320714614292011-02-18T09:55:00.003-06:002011-02-18T10:07:38.319-06:00

That on the day you have to start your data collection via telephonic interviews, your personal mobile phone gives up on you? That the sibling calls up at bedtime on the way to her field destination in North Karnataka to please recharge her phone. That you get out of bed to go do that only to receive a call the next morning informing you that she has successfully managed to lose her phone. That

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-50690952467184044562011-02-16T11:13:00.001-06:002011-02-16T11:22:23.821-06:00

The life of the 'other' in India. The ones whose voices I listen to everyday as they pour forth their challenges in living a life of dignity. Whom I call on the phone - probing, questioning, seeking answers. Whom I work hard to convince because of the limiting nature of a phone conversation that I ask not with persecutory intent. The ones who resent. The ones who open up freely to share. The ones

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-78093581384068296192011-02-07T13:13:00.002-06:002011-02-16T11:14:36.300-06:00

Since I rave about Tulika to pretty much any soul willing to chat with me for more than a few minutes, I thought I should mention them on this space too. Especially since Tulika made me curious about the wonderful world of children media. Being far far away from Indian bookstores, I stumbled across Tulika only on Twitter and through them many more wonderful folks who work with children such as 

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-69403865475202956232011-02-06T15:01:00.005-06:002011-02-07T13:37:21.537-06:00

Photo credits: ChanguMangu So there we were bright and early and a little exhausted after getting lost in the labyrinthe of one way streets that make up MG Road and its vicinity. We were prepared for a long wait because that was what happened on our first visit to Koshy's. This Sunday morning, we were back to sample their famed mutton stew and appam and to give the place a second chance because

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-53397038816006130342011-01-29T13:13:00.003-06:002011-01-29T13:24:21.735-06:00

So, in case you haven't noticed, Bangalore has me in its grip and I have been transformed into its giddy fangirl. I guess, it has partly to do with the fact that I have never lived in southern India and just as I suspected, I am enjoying all the little differences that I encounter in the way of life here. Regardless, I can't stop gushing about it. Like the real time traffic update that was

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-6770080398567068412011-01-28T22:54:00.001-06:002011-01-29T13:19:25.244-06:00

Standing in a crowded BMTC bus late one night - journeying from Majestic to Bannerghatta; even while you are being royally ragged, questioned, and made fun of in Kannada by the driver, conductor and fellow passengers for being a Tamil speaking person from Maharashtra; the warm realization creeps over, that your squashed condition in that bus has you much happier than you would ever been seated

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-28255167210681316702011-01-28T09:46:00.004-06:002011-01-29T13:18:41.585-06:00

Have you..Walked the talk?  Done your bit? Stood up for a belief? Lessened a dear one's burden? Worked for a dream?  Tried?  Not succeeded, but tried?  Looked yourself in the eye? Wished upon yourself stress of a kind that would make you lose weight? No, seriously. Have you?

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-71707025068453990102011-01-18T13:33:00.002-06:002011-01-18T13:39:31.715-06:00

Hunting for happy endings Feeling strange that she does not need to turn up for the first day of school Happy that winter in America will be spent in India Reading an email from her wonderful advisor Excited about train journeys Excited about new cities Smiling that packing for train travel does not involve weighing scales Worried that the ticket is still on WL 5 and has not moved in an inch from

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-67196953124667162652011-01-14T01:48:00.004-06:002011-01-18T13:40:07.400-06:00

In the Poona of the late 1980's, The Indian Express made an explosive and forceful entry. It started by edging out The Maharashtra Herald, which was the English daily of choice for most of the city. I was at an age when I had just about discovered the delights of the newspaper and remember grappling with conflicting feelings of unfaithfulness towards the Herald even as I keenly awaited the next

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-49414727817374698522011-01-10T03:17:00.003-06:002011-01-18T13:40:51.590-06:00

All attempts to log on to Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook failed at the University of Pune campus. When I used to teach here a while ago, Orkut was blocked at the height of its popularity. Better sense prevailed and access was restored after a month. Regressive steps by an academic institution to control what sites faculty, staff, and students can access from campus.What if social media is the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-49005452367425877242011-01-09T07:14:00.001-06:002011-01-18T13:41:13.296-06:00

Susheela is the grandest of all tomboys I have known. Her hair is appropriately styled in a sharp 'boy cut' and she only dresses in jeans. She chews tobacco almost constantly and spews contempt and insults in her very squeaky voice at me, Salma, and countless other hapless learners of the four wheeler. The third day of my driving class, she made me drive  steer the car in first gear at speed zero

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-45114771902530755942011-01-08T14:33:00.015-06:002011-10-19T11:55:01.803-05:00

Gajak has been discovered courtesy sibling's generous Gwalior-returned friend. It makes me happy. Hence, complete empathy with the spirit of this link. http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Where_can_you_get_gajak_in_pune The address on the box makes me happier still: Masjid ke paas, Nai Sadak, Dana Ali Corner, Lashkar, Gwalior Translated it means: Near the Mosque, New

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-35866846364832542012010-12-23T18:41:00.004-06:002011-01-18T13:42:18.944-06:00

Often, it is best to leave the writing to those who have enough good things to share. A wonderful collection of vignettes about the man who was. Maybe it is time to stop grieving and celebrate the life of somebody who made a difference in the life of so many. http://peterlewis.com/?p=72

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-32278878875640212382010-12-15T10:17:00.006-06:002011-01-18T13:42:32.927-06:00

I should not have been opening an email from my advisor only to find a link to a newspaper report about Gary Chapman's death. Not the day after I had defended my comprehensive exams. He spoke fondly about kayaking this summer when I took his class. His skin would be peeling from sunburn, but he said he enjoyed it. And that was exactly what he was doing in Guatemala when he passed away. In the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-46058293989974438522010-12-14T08:11:00.001-06:002010-12-14T08:24:43.354-06:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-71673171158373906532010-11-16T10:23:00.002-06:002010-11-16T10:23:51.987-06:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-44945588899085682052010-11-01T11:20:00.001-05:002010-11-01T11:20:29.931-05:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-11650457076119888172010-10-15T11:19:00.001-05:002010-10-15T11:19:32.923-05:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-29171737600462453762010-10-14T15:24:00.002-05:002010-10-14T15:27:06.577-05:00

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-46522238694838366292010-10-10T15:08:00.020-05:002010-10-15T16:05:27.650-05:00

*Just because, Salman Khan was my first crush and the only one of the two celebrity crushes I ever had.*Because, Maine Pyaar Kiya was when it all started. I was in Std III or IV and used to think of him as a favorite on-screen friend.*Because, I still stop to look at him sometimes.*Because, he is the only Bollywood star I have not been tempted to unfollow on Twitter.*Because he does not try to be

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-49173876098583963552010-09-21T22:55:00.012-05:002011-04-21T15:32:59.750-05:00

One fine day, you stand up to speak and you realize that your knees no longer shake, your voice no longer quivers, you no longer speak in your 'presentation voice', and that you can be yourself in front of an audience. It is nice when it happens on a day when you are asked to lecture for an hour-and-a-half to some 280 odd undergraduates in a stadium classroom - the first time ever you have spoken

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-14130387095134186752010-06-04T14:30:00.016-05:002010-06-04T21:22:52.239-05:00

Somebody in my neighbourhood has a typewriter. I know this because I wake up most mornings to the sound of typewriter keys hard at work. The typing is incessant and not altogether unpleasant. It lasts between 10-15 minutes and while it continues, I usually lie in bed thinking of who the typist might be and what is it that is being typed. Given that I live in student housing, that the typist is a

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-6323159821412954942010-06-02T18:48:00.011-05:002010-06-02T22:35:03.684-05:00

The city of Austin, Texas. I arrived here in the Fall of 2008 to begin life as a graduate student in the United States. It will soon be two years of this life. And two years of waiting at bus stops and bus rides. All desi students do this when they first arrive. Being a student at UT means that you ride 'free' on all city buses after swiping your ID. The engineering students graduate to four

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-23076502270432377802010-05-19T00:20:00.010-05:002010-05-21T13:08:22.387-05:00

I would like to start by recording that my hair is now long enough to be tied up in a knot. This makes me happy. Very. I am midway through watching Amadeus. I stopped only because it is hard to watch films on the laptop from start to finish without googling references when you are so easily connected to the Internet. This could either add or detract from the viewing pleasure depending on how you

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-84865678533752934422010-04-01T13:29:00.003-05:002010-04-01T13:50:18.192-05:00

I unfailingly fall for April Fool jokes. Especially those perpetrated by the likes of Google. But, following people on Twitter who are 12 hours ahead of you means that discussions and dissections of April Fool pranks reaches you well before you even realize that it is time for the season again. One wise man even helpfully warned everyone to be on guard from tech companies a full two days before

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-20019703336243176342010-03-30T04:04:00.003-05:002010-04-01T13:59:37.962-05:00

It is no fun when you have the swing all to yourself. The playground was a fun place to be in. The pushing and jostling and racing ahead to grab your place and then swinging high above the ones you beat that day. It wasn't always you though. Some days you were the one left standing impatiently trying to beat down that frustration of having to wait this round out. Seeing your playmates claim their

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-26719630054104725062010-01-09T19:39:00.005-06:002010-01-09T19:44:50.893-06:00

NPR floated a discussion on the bra colour viral. Thought provoking comments from readers including breast cancer victims and survivors minus the sarcasm and the jokes.http://bit.ly/4qZpZF

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-73924279742352774952010-01-09T01:41:00.006-06:002010-01-09T02:53:38.285-06:00

No, I did not post my bra color on Facebook. Not because I didn't approve, but because I usually give memes such as these a pass. Partly because of my squeamishness at having to do it, part laziness, partly because I wonder in what concrete way I would be contributing to the cause and partly because it really is a very boring common color with no embellishments worth writing home about. What?

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-25926544377786372382009-09-13T20:59:00.003-05:002009-09-13T23:03:37.125-05:00

In my fever induced delirium, I dreamed of shelves. Some, neatly arranged with clothes and books. Some, a general hodgepodge of stuff which I left to tackle later on as I empty my ten boxes and one huge bag of belongings that currently lie in a friend's garage. I also dreamed that my two bedroom apartment actually has four bathrooms. What richness, what joy. Roomie and me would never have had to

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-38163117252387683492009-09-13T16:26:00.004-05:002009-09-13T16:32:39.289-05:00

rules to be a good journalist, says Ramachandra Guha. Also a good researcher. Hell, a good productive human being, if I may add.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-51086036992528975422009-08-22T11:54:00.005-05:002009-08-22T12:04:46.506-05:00

Leafing through the pages of long long ago, I came across this piece. Unfortunately, it still holds true today. Am displaying it here in the hope that giving it a new lease of life would help in some way :)It is one of my favourite fantasies, a long-cherished romance. And as favourite romances go; this one too is as yet unconsummated, waiting for a bolt of lightining to strike and bear me away in

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-79698679078940475542009-08-10T12:20:00.008-05:002009-08-10T13:18:42.810-05:00

there is only one other incident I remember akin to the present day eerie uneasiness that has blanketed the town. And that was the day the Babri masjid fell. But, even then there was not this feeling of being under siege. No school buses doing the rounds, downed shutters at malls and multiplexes after days of remaining empty, waking up to yet another story of a life lost and turned into another

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-85127550377104277282009-07-28T20:26:00.004-05:002009-07-28T20:39:24.298-05:00

includes not laying eggs because they can't take the heat at around 37 degress Celsius. Immense cackling followed on learning of this being the reason for egg shortage in Austin. Hot, hot, hot. Go veg y'all. Heeee Hawww.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-55409223285795428612009-07-07T07:16:00.013-05:002009-07-07T10:54:52.665-05:00

the number of things that sometimes need to fall into place and how long one can wait for the said things to assume their rightful positions. Even as you get on with life and try to do without. Makes for an interesting journey if nothing else.You could look forward to the light at the end of the tunnel and pray that it not be that of an oncoming train. Or else, you could await the passing of the

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-64442766993173730392009-07-02T10:16:00.004-05:002009-07-03T10:20:10.387-05:00

What an amazing awesome piece of news. Here is to human rights and the right to live life in line with one's sexual preferences with the dignity that is seldom given. Hurrah for the Delhi HC!

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-12203696859211434472009-07-01T21:32:00.009-05:002009-07-07T08:37:40.748-05:00

Well, I was wrong when I said nothing revolutionary took place in spite of the very public complaints. In another story that the Express carried today on the CFC, it reports that quite a lot has been happening ever since the letters and the stories which led reporters to poke around and ask nosy questions. Yay for The Indian Express for paying heed to citizens complaints and doing sustained

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-48087620738962199202009-07-01T12:32:00.007-05:002009-07-07T08:40:51.459-05:00

It was certainly not what I would have wished for myself, but this summer saw me playing the great Indian sarkari game. And I am more the wiser for it.Step inside the Citizen Facilitation Centre at the district collectorate office in Pune. Our tryst with it began exactly a month ago. Our mission? Securing a domicile certificate for my sister to ensure that she is treated as a student in the home

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-60439155950461820612009-03-10T15:41:00.005-05:002009-03-10T21:23:21.814-05:00

When I got up today morning, I did not think it would be one of those days.The kind that has you getting into the elevator from the bottommost floor to go to the topmost. That has the elevator stopping at every floor on the way up. Later, the exact same thing happens on the way down.So what?So, Bah!!

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91522254179130507.post-40362290505205456962009-03-08T12:54:00.006-05:002009-03-09T23:20:10.866-05:00

Have you seen a trailer as awesome as Kaminey's? I can't stop rocking to aaja aaja dil nichod le, raat ki matki tode, koi good luck nikaale, aaj gooluck ko phode.Fomebody Helf!!!Chal chal sadkon pe hogi dhan than. Dhan ta dan dara ra ran.Here we go, Radio!!! Coming foon thif fummer!!! Difcover your mean fide!!!And happy Women's Day. Here's one for symbolisms and what not.Fooooo.

Preeti Mudliarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461075411787804218noreply@blogger.com0