Offs and Ons

The only thing sadder than window-less labs is finding out that -1 people read your blog. Judging by the comments left, or lack thereof, I can only assume that my writing has gone to ‘heck in a handbasket’. Pray tell me what happens to them creative juices when they are forced to reckon with the likes of a PhD, the related thesis and the aforementioned window-less labs – they too go to ‘heck in a handbasket’.
I was going to say that today I shall don the garb of entertainer while discarding the disguise of a Physicist – but that will do nothing more than raise the bar and that I don’t need right now.
On the reading front, apart from the lack-lustre journal papers, to which I am about to add my own lack-lustre contribution, I have managed to read The Alchemist and Shame. The former needs no introduction and the latter is by an author of Indian origin, Jasvinder Sanghera. Rather than writing about sugar-coated Indian things like ‘smell of camphor, spices and flower coupled with dung and despair’ and how ‘the demure Indian girl adjusts to the western lifestyle’, Sanghera writes about the harsh reality of western vs. Indian conventions and the (mis) treatment of women. What intrigued and interested me most was that the story (true as it is) is set in a conventional Sikh household and not a Muslim one so the stereo-types are the same with a different background and therefore a new perspective.
As ‘feminist’ books are being thrust at me from all angles I feel the need to clarify my stand on this issue – I will say this and only this – Feminism should be a cry for equality not female dominance. Many ‘radical’ feminists of my generation seem to miss this very basic point.
On a brighter note – I am off to watch the Australian Open this weekend – hoping that the weather keeps its promise yet manages to spare us its worst. I love Melbourne. Its a beautiful, vibrant city and it has treated me with the respect I think I deserve, with every visit.. It is a place where one can be creative, very unlike Canberra, where one must fight to keep one’s spirit alive. With tickets in hand to, what I am hoping will be, a Federer vs. Somebody game one I can barely contain my excitement. My cousin said to me today that watching Fed play is so boring because he is too good. Granted. BUT it is the effortlessness he exhibits that I find thrilling. I cannot forget a Fed vs. Roddick match I watched some years ago – while Roddick was melting Fed had barely broken a sweat!
Much awaited rain has finally wet the Canberra earth and so celebration is called for, I reckon. Hot tea and some of my mother’s chocolate cake (that is currently being eaten in slivers!) is warranted.


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