Lately, there happens to be just one thing I can think/dream/talk/write/ blog/ harp/complain about. The cook book. It has successfully snatched the reigns of my life from me and now occupies every single nook and cranny in my crazy head. No matter how I hard I try to get away from it, the blessed book hunts me down, jumps out in front of me and yells 'Gotcha!' and then sticks to me like George Bush to the false fantasy of finding Osama Bin Laden.
I thought Sunday would be a great day to lock the book away and catch up on normal human activities, namely, socializing with friends in order to remind them that I still exist and clean up the disheveled burrow that happens to be my room. It began as a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly through my window, the pile of clothes pleading to be folded and arranged neatly, the papers and books strewn all over the room urging to be stacked and returned to their respective shelves. I finally managed to spare the room a glance and begin my cleaning spree, which surprisingly didn't take me too long. Although I shouldn't be that surprised, the cook book makes me look at the usually boring tasks in my life with a lot more enthusiasm than I usually spare. Once I was done and the room managed to look not spotless clean, but decently acceptable, a friend and I decided to step out for a movie - Julia & Julie.
I usually let my common sense prevail over my impulses and review the plot of a movie before watching it. Now call it fate or sheer bad luck that I decided to skip that part for this movie. I plopped down on the comfortable seat, completely clueless as to what the movie was all about. And there it came. A cook book! My eyes almost popped out of my sockets. No way could this be happening to me. All I wanted was a day to myself, just 24 hours of pure me, no cookbook baggage attached, and yet there it was, right in front of my eyes, mocking me.
This boils down to just one thought:The @#$@#$@% cookbook has now become an integral part of my existence, and I may not be able to part with it. No matter how much I yearn to. It will continue to haunt me for days, months or maybe even years to come. But I refused to be threatened by it. No longer will it rule my life, or dictate my actions in anyway. Which reminds me, I better stop writing now, the cookbook is waiting for me :)

The festival of lights!

Diwali is one of the most popular holidays in India and my office seems to be celebrating with a unique combination of festivity and work-pressure. I walked in early today, to find the entire place lit up with colorful lanterns and festoon decorating the entrance of my most favored prison, and felt a sense of happiness descend over me.
It's amazing how festivals can lift the trouble off your shoulders and gift you with a sense of tranquility. I woke up this morning realizing I had to achieve the impossible by finishing an enormous pile of work before I take off on a much needed holiday, and yet, the minute I saw the decorations at work, the dreaded pile didn't matter to me anymore. Work can take a back seat today, the spirit of happiness cannot give way to the nerve-wracking stress.

Epicurean Dilemma

I came, I saw, I fainted!
Editing a whopping 1000 recipes is no joke. The number itself raised my blood pressure to alarming levels; the recipes are working their way into my system like a slow poison. Being a die-hard foodie, I thought this project would be fun. This can easily prove the fact that 1st impressions DO NOT last too long. Three months have passed by, and the cookbook hangs over my head like a death knell. I begin my day with the cookbook, and end it with the cookbook. If that isn't enough, the book has now become an integral part of my nightmares. I cringe at the sight of Indian food, which is a major dilemma, considering the fact that Indian cuisine happens to be my daily fare.
I often wonder how my life would have been without the cookbook. My work hours would have been greatly reduced, I wouldn't look like I stepped straight out of a zombie movie and my dreams would have been comparatively more peaceful. And yet, I do know for a fact that once I bid adieu to the cookbook, I am going to miss it. The madness in my life will cease to exist. Not for too long, though. I am sure another monster is looming somewhere beyond the horizon, awaiting to keep the madness alive.

A superhero to the recue

Vampires seem to have become a rage lately. Be it the smoldering Bill Compton from True Blood, or the charismatic Edward Cullen (I cant choose between the two), vampires have are the 'in thing'. I was hooked to the twilight series a while ago, hard to resist with someone as mesmerizing as Edward Cullen to look forward to. Lately, twilight has been pushed to the back of my mind thanks to True Blood. And I often wonder, what's next? The Harry Potter and Lord of the rings craze has been taken over by vampires. Who will replace these fanged superheroes? Werewolves? Zombies? Banshees? Aliens? Or an entirely new species?
What I love the most about this is the fact that these are the very characters that were once labeled as evil. Witchcraft was and still if considered as a taboo in many countries and yet Harry Potter is not just accepted, but worshiped worldwide. I have seen children roaming the streets on the 31st of July, dressed as wizards with fake wands, muttering gibberish chants playfully. Vampires were considered to be foul creatures and yet no one who has read twilight will accuse the Cullen clan of being evil. Fictional characters are changing thinking patterns globally, transforming villains into heroes.
I often wonder if the same policy would work for more relevant causes. Say, for example, the homosexual community, that is still looked upon as being 'abnormal' by a majority of the global population. Would it help if someone like Batman came up and declared himself as being homosexual? Would that help change the way people think?
I often wish for a superhero with the power to change the world. But right now, I wish the superhero has the power to complete my current editing project. The world can wait for a few more moments, my cookbook needs rescue :)

What's cooking?

A colleague and I have spent a horrendous month editing what we have aptly labelled as a nightmare - a cook book that has successfully drained the happiness from our lives. After numerous days of remaining holed up in the office staring at our screens and trying to make sense out of utter nonsense, we decided to take it easy. If we were drowning in hell, might as well make a few jokes at its expense.
Facebook is an amazing place to vent out your frustrations, mainly through comments on status messages and pictures. As the cook book got progressively obscene (there were recipes that wanted people to flatten their balls with a rolling pin!), so did our jibes, until the project manager stepped in. I have aptly named that woman a dementor - her nightmarish deadlines and constant pressure suck the soul out of me.
I would like to take a moment and pat myself and A, my colleague, on this job well done..It takes guts to blatantly butcher the most complicated Indian recipes into half, and claim we 'edit' thoroughly. Thanks A, for all the support during those scary days, when a nervous breakdown was looming on the horizon. Let's hope to kill this project in a month. :)
P.S. : If I do not add to my blog for over a month, you may assume that the cook book emerged victorious in our vicious battle, and death embraced me like along lost friend who couldn't even wait till my birthday to take me away.

What was I thinking?

I often wonder what or rather if I was thinking when I wanted to become a writer. It was a rather impulsive decision; as I sat through another mundane lecture daydreaming about sun-kissed beaches and rum-soaked cocktails, I thought - let's make that happen. A humdrum life will never agree with me. I can't sit at the same desk for years, dressed in clothes that were created to kill the owner, staring at a computer for 8 hours everyday for 6 days a week. I wanted something that would make life fun and relatively easy. And Bang! The idea of choosing writing as a profession was born. A tiny little daydream that eventually rooted itself and turned into a reality.
As I look back, I cant really blame myself for choosing this profession. It helps me keep my usually lazy brain extremely active. Although that is strictly limited to office hours. If someone questions me about work during dinner, they are greeted with a completely blank look, or an icy glare that successfully manages to shoo away some of the toughest people I have known.
Writers are often labeled as 'eccentric' , 'weird' and even 'doped'. But I must say, it is the best thing that could ever happen to me. I may criticize every single word I edit, hope that most of my clients rot in the deepest pits of hell, at the end of the day, i can proudly say 'For once, i was thinking right.'