tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30170324389189992202012-02-16T14:43:05.038ZPickled thoughts on culture, media and a bit of everything melittle green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-10774253150684223882011-12-14T21:36:00.000Z2011-12-14T21:36:55.338Z

Free TVs for votes, free fans for no votes, flip-flop politics and missing polity - there's little about recent politics that isn't greeted with cynicism or disgust. At a recent debate on NDTV's We The People about an increasingly dysfunctional Parliament, one of the suggestions made to end the mammoth quibbles and get things done, was to allow MPs to vote on (most) policy matters independently

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-66053433719331783472011-12-03T21:12:00.001Z2011-12-03T21:12:14.579Z

Got to watch about three hours of top class snooker at the World Snooker Championship 2011 finals in Bangalore. It's been a while since doing something new has been so much fun. It was a pleasure to watch the two players be so precise, patient and meticulous. The angles and straight lines their bodies formed with the table and cue made for a stunning sight. Beautiful. More photos if I can get

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-67596331411969006752011-10-01T08:26:00.000+01:002011-10-01T08:26:21.107+01:00

A torn backpack even before I boarded the connecting flight was the extent of my worries when on holiday to Sikkim. Then the earthquake hit. Yes, I felt it and yes, things shook. Shopping in Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim, that Sunday evening, I later learnt that I was just 64 km from the epicentre of the earthquake that measured 6.8 on the Richter scale. A day later and we might have been at

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-42979857713904290452011-08-09T22:32:00.000+01:002011-08-09T22:32:47.544+01:00

All news these days seems bad and sad and personal. And here I am sitting warm and far away from everywhere the things are falling apart. Emotions and opinions forming and changing with every text/tweet/IM/update that hits closer to home, all the while switching tabs to watch the hottest new DJ cat. No, there's never a numbness; just a feeling of helplessness at the inability to find the words

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-86019891854428903742011-07-07T22:26:00.001+01:002011-07-07T22:31:15.582+01:00

My romance with Mills & Boon started somewhere in class 9 or 10, with the first book I read in between studying for exams. For someone with a proclivity then to get lost between the covers of story books, M&B made for convenient exam time reading - it gave me my everyday fix of fiction, but nothing fizzy enough to distract me from pages of fractions or history facts. So, when I read that "

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-84324598115703623272011-06-16T20:54:00.002+01:002011-06-16T21:41:26.697+01:00

I spend my evenings - six days a week - at work at a newspaper, labouring lovingly over news copy that, I am acutely aware, will only be served cold with someone's morning coffee.   Considerable time and effort goes into making a newspaper. A bunch of reporters, photographers, sub editors and editors are working odd and/or long hours, following a tradition of news gathering and dissemination

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-59626132953150653612011-04-27T09:20:00.001+01:002011-04-27T09:21:37.897+01:00

An oft repeated statement about social networking sites is that putting up any personal information online is an automatic renunciation of privacy. "If you have something that you don't want anyone to know, maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place," former Google CEO Eric Schmidt famously said. However, using the many benefits of sites that encourage sharing personal information

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-29187606795909636382010-11-26T14:03:00.000Z2010-11-26T14:03:07.542Z

On November 11, Paul Chambers, an accountant from UK, lost an appeal against a conviction and £1000 fine for a flippant comment made on Twitter that the judge thought was a “menace” and a realistic threat. Taking up against what is definitely a dangerous legal precedent in the exercising of the freedom of speech and expression – heck, even humour or ill-tempered grumbling – online, thousands

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-12653325239425516232010-11-26T08:05:00.000Z2010-11-26T08:05:19.741Z

A story that provides opportunities for food tasting is always welcome. Especially if it involves eating Bangalore's famous K.C. Das rossogollas. I came back in a good mood, and with a matka full of rossogollas. They were polished off, the matka washed and dried, long before the story made it to print. See? Empty. The story as it appeared in The Hindu, November 25, 2010. (It's a pity

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-20494465716083197702010-11-06T12:27:00.000Z2010-11-06T12:27:15.125Z

It's taken me a while to post this: My story, as it appeared in The Hindu, October 14, 2010. This has been one of my favourite assignments so far. Sunalini Menon, coffee taster, founder of Coffeelabs and, as the article says, "quality control expert" is a charming lady. Her workshop/ lab was absolutely fascinating as well. Take a peek at the items behind her in the (unfortunately tiny) photo

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-21203910335454741662010-09-17T21:29:00.004+01:002010-09-17T22:15:30.311+01:00

At around 11 p.m. the other night, I chanced upon a Kannada movie shoot. Murali meets Meera I understand In the middle of a large ground near home, with elaborate Ganesh pandals in their full shimmering glory in the background, was a small crew filming about 20 seconds worth of a dance sequence. It was fascinating, because it was so typical. A really pretty, fair heroine, dressed exactly as

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-88620008635741542172010-08-27T19:47:00.000+01:002010-08-27T19:47:37.673+01:00

If I was still doing the 30 days of music thing, I'd make up a category just to post this one. I love old people and these ones are especially adorable. Jamaican octogenarians singing Rehab.

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-25676171116657423342010-08-12T11:24:00.002+01:002010-08-12T11:29:58.735+01:00

I won't lie, I wasn't too pleased at having to visit the cemetery all by myself. It was for a story for The Hindu, August 12. I wasn't afraid - Zombies, I was sure, would definitely liven up one's life. Rather, it was the quiet, and the feeling that I was intruding, that bothered me. And I don't know what Miss. Manners suggested about walking around final resting places. In retrospect, I

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-49751290153430544262010-08-02T21:47:00.000+01:002010-08-02T21:47:28.163+01:00

My very talented grant aunt Shantha Poti sang at Maya Rao's performances. Years later, a friend, and Ms. Rao's daughter's student taught me a dance with a bit of kathak. So I was glad for the chance to talk to an artist I had heard so much about. The Hindu Neighbourhood article - 8 July 2010

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-11492547966753836192010-08-02T21:23:00.001+01:002011-11-25T20:22:56.166Z

"One part business, two parts design, a handful of ideas and a lot of garbage." Update: After weeks of struggling to find a way to put this online, I come across a link to access the article on The Hindu website.  A few weeks ago, I met Poonam Bir Kasturi, the woman behind Daily Dump, for an article. This is what came out of it. Jul-22-pdf She was an extremely passionate person,

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-30009598804579236382010-07-10T21:17:00.000+01:002010-07-10T21:17:43.809+01:00

I'm sure this half-month worth of a reasonably wide variety of songs has killed any "expectations" behind my song choices. So much for any rep I imagined I had. But I do like this song, and I believe I'm in the minority here. Elvis impersonators, shiny lights, hilarious lyrics (Oh bol-e bol-e why did-e you ditch me), a spunky bride (you go, girl!), in an altogether unexpected musical break in

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-73555199839756326222010-07-09T21:49:00.000+01:002010-07-09T21:49:40.905+01:00

It takes a brave person to agree with Mum without being ordered to do. Especially if Mum belongs to the 70s and has questionable tastes. I think I used the love affair between Mum and the Swedish quartet to develop what I hoped would be biting sarcasm to hold me in good stead in my growing years. I got pretty good at the eye roll and the eye roll while simultaneously saying Lay-ame. But I

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-89898503310381879312010-07-01T20:55:00.000+01:002010-07-01T20:55:05.334+01:00

This one. I have two CDs of this artist, which I have been trying to get rid of for years but they just find their way back. Like a Monkey's Paw one just can't get away from. Grammy-shmammy. But why devote a whole post to a boring song, you ask. (Well, I ask, but the question remains.) A lot of this 30 Days of Music stuff is rather rubbish. Like the attempting to finish-this-in-30-

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-49923548857153710472010-06-10T22:17:00.001+01:002010-06-10T22:23:40.121+01:00

Alternate title: Why I love Lady Gaga I haven't stepped onto a dance floor in the last two years without having this song playing. It's a great song to make up awkward dance steps for as you go along. (Those are the best kind, no?) And I have nothing but the fondest of memories of friends in different states of sobriety doing so. But there's so much more to this song, and indeed to Lady Gaga

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-40764028288126329732010-06-08T22:00:00.001+01:002010-06-08T22:01:41.277+01:00

Oh I give up on Day 7, which must be day 17 by now. Day 8 however, brings back memories of a diary I kept for song lyrics. (No need to go looking, I burnt it once I stopped getting high on scented markers.) There were four songs in there, which remain the songs I know all the words to. The ignominy of naming said songs would be too much, and hence, I decline to do so except under duress. What

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-56719676505623366652010-06-07T21:07:00.005+01:002010-06-07T21:28:00.350+01:00

If you're allowed poetic license, USE IT, methinks. I just finished wiping my tears after watching this week's episode of Doctor Who (Vincent and the Doctor). It was great - touching, good pace, fine acting, entertaining. And it was also exactly what I'd like a 'story' to be. The episode was - bear with me for a minute - one of those historical episodes where the Doctor and Amy travel back in

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-90804141157401577682010-05-27T21:48:00.002+01:002010-05-27T22:00:51.501+01:00

I've spent two days thinking about my entry for '30 days of music - Day 7: a song that reminds me of a certain event'. With little success. (What with all these distractions) Sure there were lots of school dances, holidays, parties, fooling around times that had memorable soundtracks-for-the-day. But posting any one of those would be needless, pointless oversharing. What would also be

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-54359735688338789582010-05-24T22:25:00.000+01:002010-05-24T22:25:28.114+01:00

I was looking forward to this. I was heading back home after an awesome Snow Patrol concert at the magnificent 02. The Jubilee Line traversed the city, emptying itself of its late-evening passengers on platforms waiting for a long day to end. I made the 45-minute journey from East London to West, sat by myself, amidst the crumpled free-sheets. And all that time, this was the refrain in my

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-4917401589182930192010-05-23T21:22:00.003+01:002010-05-23T21:28:34.886+01:00

It was crazy for a few days. I was humming this song, D was humming this song, this dude Jude was playing in the city, D was sitting in a concert a couple of seats away from music-boy Jude, the radio was playing Hey Jude way too often, Media Player pulled out Jude on shuffle at the precise moment D popped up online, at least twice, it was FREAKY, it was official - Paul Was Dead and he was

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017032438918999220.post-80229498789112453202010-05-23T20:50:00.001+01:002010-05-23T21:39:29.086+01:00

Can I skip this one? (Groan) Okay, let's be done with this. This one. Because.

little green mangohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13080992270838566223noreply@blogger.com2