Archive for 09/07/2013

Save Me (Angel)


I’m not sure my friend Jason Windawi will appreciate the credit, but he pointed me to this Meetup yesterday called “MEN THAT DATE HOT WOMEN”, which I have conveniently screen-shotted for y’all:

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I’m not sure where to start with deconstructing this pick-up-artist wannabe clan, but let’s just START WITH THE ALL CAPS. Who does that? Update: turns out THE NAVY DOES THAT.

I’m thinking of crashing this Meetup with a posse of sufficiently ridiculous and hilarious friends.

First the good news: I can easily imagine what kind of person I’d love to attract for this action (namely, anyone who thinks this is ludicrous, in a fun way, and wants to join me) but, and here’s the other good news, I’m having trouble figuring out the perfect thing to do once we get there. Let’s think.

First thought: line dance with boas, singing “I will survive.” Maybe not that exactly…

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Memory can be understood in a number of different ways. When someone asks me what a memory is–a rare but possible occurrence–I often struggle between a few options. I could go the easy way and point my hopefully friendly inquisitor to the nearest dictionary or Wiki page. That might deter the less curious. A more insistent person might push me further. At that point, I get somewhat tense. What is a memory? The trouble with finding one definition is that there are a number of ways that I think about memory and remembering. From a psychological standpoint, remembering is a function of interlocking neurological systems in the brain. Memories are traces, patterns of emotional and sensory response that the brain records. There are memories we consciously remember and memories that are recorded automatically. Memories that build blueprints of places, that allow us to feel a continuity and a progression from…

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The Daily Run-On

“Christians are like glow sticks. To shine, they must be broken”- Anonymous

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Keith Tomlinson Photography

I’ve seen many a running and health gadget since taking up running but a smart sock?

This sock can track pressure, speed pace and track your gait using sensors in the material.

Is it April Fools? Have I woken up in the future?

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So I got a haircut. Those who know me know how unbelievably excited I get about haircuts. It’s the impermanent creative outlet that I love; tattoos are there for life, piercings leave scars, but hair? Hair grows. Also the scalp massages.

On scalp massages for a minute: there was a new girl, and lord did she know her way around a scalp massage. Starting at the edge of the hairline, working her way along the temples, towards the base of the scalp, and down the knotted-elastic-band-like neck muscles. I know massage. And this girl, she was good. It was one of those minutes where you think things like “my body is literally going to melt into puddles on the floor”. 

So the cut. I finally manned  up and got the left side (from the side part down) of my head shaved until just behind the ear. Probably a 2mm guard…

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One and a Half Minutes

It’s raining in Calcutta now. And I’m writing about it sitting in a sunny, humid, sweltering city a couple of thousand kilometers away. That itself should be proof enough of my yearning for rain, in Calcutta. Every year at the advent of monsoon, there is a part in me which unfailingly craves to be in Calcutta to savour the climate. The dilapidated city looks surreal, feels surreal, and infinite memorable moments are born with each earthward drop.

I have lived in Calcutta for eight years only. I have also lived in a few other metropolises of the world during rains. Miami – yes, Mumbai – yes, Hyderabad – yes, New York – briefly yes, London – briefly yes, Belfast – yes. I have watched the preparation, the actual precipitation, soaked and froze myself in those rains, and yet, whenever it rains anywhere it reminds me of Calcutta. I have eons…

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