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Mar 13, 2015

Confessions of the 8th Sin of Fashion



#FAME reads the invitingly classy purple banner.
And is there another better word than that to catch a Fashionista's eye? Its almost as if Fashion and Fame have been two sides of the same coin since forever now. The more fashionable you are, the more eyeballs you grab. That's like given!

Style however is more about how you carry fashion. Style is what YOU make of the fashion trends thrown at you. BUT how do you know whether you are good or bad, IN or OUT? And for the uninitiated, is it possible to learn the HOWs at this stage? For the internet addicts or better called the 'Netaratti', in this case, is there one place where you could get your A-Zs of Style & Fashion spoon-fed to you?  

Take the 'March Ka Mantra' from none other than Karan Johar himself and get in the know, I say. With his tongue in cheek digs at some fashion critics 'Social Media' sent his way, I am ready for the daily dope of Fashion, KJO and his Fashion Brigade are sending my way at the #LakmeSchoolofStyle YouTube channel.

Different people sin differently. We all have vices. We do! But when I say I have committed a Fashion Sin, I feel like I belong to a family. A big and growing world-wide family, tight-knit and close. That when I will look into another fashion sinner's eyes, I know he/she will understand my pain and not judge me. It will not remain a sin anymore. It will be appreciated as a passion.

Like KJo coaxes you to, in one of the cover videos, I am SCULPTing my own identity this way, I prefer to believe!



Thus I found an instant connect with one of the videos at the Lakme School Of Style- India's 1st Fashion Video Mag'. 

   


Its amusing to see some of India's fashion big-wigs confessing to the deadly sins of fashion, drawing up a vicious 7 in number. I could relate to 4 of the mentioned deadly fashion sins and am guilty of committing them too. The scales may comparatively vary but a sin is a sin! 


To the list of Bag Gluttony and Sale Wrath, I have an 8th Deadly Fashion Sin to confess to ie. Accessory Addiction


And confessing to that by broadcasting it here is not going to change things. I'm sure its only going to intensify in the sheer sadistic pleasure that I get from knowing it uncontrollably possesses me. 


And then like a light at the end of the dark tunnel, I found the 'DIY Accessories for Him & Her' video by Lakmé School Of Style Vloggers Amanda & Mili 





Style is something inherent that one cannot be taught, or so I'd assumed. Here these two have given me a paradigm shift in more than one ways. They make it look so easy! And have firmly re-established my faith in the belief that the more original your ideas of accessorising the more interesting your look will get.

If you could possibly create your own accessories like they did then there's no stopping you from indulging in your 8th deadly fashion sin- Accessory Addiction.

I am as passionate about art as I am about fashion. So to bring a confluence of both my interests I rigged up some handpainted wearable art brooches out of utter scrap.




 On two discs of waste canvas I painted a naughty 'Kanha' and a sultry 'Radha'. Cut out four discs of scrap velvet discs and sewed them together after stuffing them with cotton fillings. Thus making two lovely pillow-like round brooch bases. Quickly plucked out two peacock feathers that were working as a part of a wall-decor till date, stuck them onto the bases and pasted Kanha and Radha, each on one base.

Voila!!! The quickest DIY Art Brooches one could ever make...

The sultry Radha found herself on the lapel of my Denim JumpSuit. Just the dash of colour needed to spruce up the grunge.



 While naughty Kanha is perched atop a suave dude's hat. Gearing up to rock a Saturday night among a bevy of girls, is what I imagine!


#LakmeSchoolofStyle YouTube channel already seems to have taken over my senses. My heads whirring with ideas, all over again. 


Really thankful to BlogAdda for letting me experience this 'oh-so-fashionable' time with KJo and his Fashion Brigade. 




'This post is a part of the #LakmeSchoolOfStyle activity at BlogAdda.com in association with #Fame'

Mar 9, 2015

Rise Of The Grey Prince- Book 2 The Saga of Agni: Book Review


Rise Of The Grey Prince
Author- Arka Chakrabarti
Publisher-Srishti Publishers & Distributors
My Rating- **1/2
About the Author- Arka is a 27 year old Tax Consultant-cum- Content Writer, who resorted to writing to escape life's monotony. He has also written the first book in the 'The Saga of Agni' series which precedes the book being reviewed here.



The book begins on a slow foot and as the back blurb promises, I await to be drawn into the sublime world of secrets, alongside Agni. As each page is turned I am spotting numerous typographical and grammatical errors. My heart goes out to the author who has passionately told a story. However this book desperately needs a good amount of editing and a thorough spell check all over again.

The storytelling picks up a swift pace as the story progresses and I realise there's a whole lot happening. Agni, the protagonist of the story is on a mission to reveal the real truth behind his father's sacrifice and in turn discovers some dark secrets from his past. Though a quick re-cap of the story from the previous book in the series ' The Secrets of the Dark' has been thoughtfully provided at the very beginning of this book, I still find myself struggling to catch up. 

As Agni fights the daggers from his past, he has by his side two of his most trusted loyals- his Guru Sidak and Vrish, the son of Briksha-the man who played a pivotal role in his escape from death as a child. 

I am great sucker for well chosen names and as the book progresses, numerous characters weave in and out of the story. I again find myself taking mental notes of the various names of people and places. I wish the author had put more thought into it while picking names for them. Or maybe I am missing a point. However that is my main reason for giving a lower rating to this book. Arkansas as a person's name, Gaya as the name of the place he lives at and Athena too in the same breath is kind of confusing. 

A neatly drawn map of the land at the beginning of the book becomes an interesting element in the book. 

Arka Chakrabarti's style of storytelling is smooth and fluent. There are many layers to the story and the author has made a great attempt to tell it all. Probably in a hurry to finish the take the story from one level to the next, I imagine he has restrained from launching into elaborate descriptions. I sorely missed the full and hearty backgrounds to the Colony of Hala, Nisarga, Guardian of Hydespus, Erythrean farmlands, etc. What a beautiful read that would have made. He has left a lot to my imagination. A tad bit too much for my liking.

"Which way is Nisarga?" 
"North" he almost cried with a blood full of mouth.
The monster put his other hand through him and ripped the Captain into two.

The epilogue is riveting and smartly written, leaving great scope for the third book that will complete the trilogy/series but again its not without a few errors.

The author elaborates 'About the fictional land of Gaya', its ages and eras, its languages, its currency, weights and measurements, its time at the end of the book. It would have been brilliant if it was placed at the beginning of the book, following the maps.

The roughly 200 pages long story is a very quick read. You can easily finish the book in a day if you are a voracious reader. Ignore the anomalies and put your thinking hats away. A young mind will enjoy this out and out surreal world that the author has made a very good attempt at constructing and deconstructing before our eyes with his words. 

Feb 9, 2015

The Blue Stone that came from the heart... #SoundOfLove



Ours was not that silly 'LOVE STORY,' spun running around trees or sketched across college desks. Ours was 'DESTINY' written by Lord Brahma himself. And before you begin to think I made a kitschy, cliched statement there, please allow me to tell it all. 

As all dutiful Hindu Brahmin parents do, my parents approached a typical old astrologer too. And thus I found myself fasting on Saturdays, 'for a perfect husband!' as they put it. I did it as dutifully as I could so as to get a husband as nearly perfect as husbands can ever get. If you know what I mean! Little did I know my future had a really whirlwind romance,in store for me, like no other's.

"Have you ever seen a girl fast on Saturdays for marriage and a good husband?" My office colleague jeered at me in her cacophonic shrill voice one day, over lunch. 
"What if you found a 'Hanuman' instead?" She continued walking around the table, akimbo and her cheeks puffed up, mimicking a comic representation of the revered Hindu God. 
 And the rest of the bevy of girls who found it absolutely amusing too broke into peals of laughter.
Her absent minded prediction was proven astonishingly correct when  I met with the love of my life some months later. However, thanks be to the good God above, the great fear she had instilled in my mind simultaneously, about his looks, were lain to rest. 

Come December, my paternal uncle and aunt whisked me and my father up one evening and drove us to Lonavala to meet their relatives. Surprise, surprise! These relatives that we were visiting had an eligible bachelor waiting in the wings to meet me. 

I am a die-hard Bruce Willis fan. And also of Dwayne Johnson and Vin Diesel. What do they have in common? A handsomely bald pate. I had a self-confessed fetish for the species and if they were to sport a french beard, my heart would be rolling at their feet. Thus putting all my fears to rest, I had  discovered my dream beau, standing there on the porch of his Lonavala farmhouse, waiting for me. As our eyes met,  I heard my uncle officially introduce him as 'Bajrang'. Yes! That was his name. Bajrang aka Hanuman- the same deity I'd been praying too over the past couple of years. 

Now, even though my heart was more than ready to leap out of my chest and into his arms, I decided I was not going to be an easy win. His name couldn't be the only sign that God would give me. 
The night of December 14th was chillier than I'd expected and standing on their porch, bidding his family adieu, I felt myself shivering like a leaf in the wind. before I could turn to my dad to protest and plead that we step into the warmth of the car as soon as possible, I felt a warm jacket being thrown across my shoulders. The man looked down deep into my eyes as I turned my face to see who it was. And thus began our 'Mills & Boon'-esque love story. 

That hour onward the poor love-struck knight did everything, small gestures and big deeds to win the lady's heart over but I was bent upon holding my fort. He shooed the driver away and drove me and my father back to our Pune home all the way. All the while he kept throwing side-long looks at me, through the rear view mirror and smiled to himself. 

"You can call me Baji!" was his sign-off line as he finally drove off at 2am. But he'd also promptly wished me "A very Good Morning" at 6am. via SMS. A string of E-mails and chats via Yahoo Messenger later, before the end of the following day, I heard our respective fathers already discussing 'US' over the phone. December 15th was the one and only one occasion in our subsequent life of togetherness that me and my then would-be husband spoke to each other over the phone for long hours, off and on all through the day and night and into the wee hours of the December 16th morning. Love was truly and finally happening for me but the excitement was showing somewhere else, far more evidently.

"I like you Vibhuti. Let's meet up tomorrow." There was a tone of urgency in his sleepy, baritone voice and must I say it aloud, he had me at that itself. However like all good girls should I reined myself in with a "So soon?" "Yes!" he said for he was quite a determined man. Within a few hours of having ended our phone call for the birds had started chirping in the dawn, he arrived at our home. All fresh as dew, flashing his endearing smile, he was ready for our very first date. The loveliest bunch of orchids welcoming me into a new life. "..but I love pink roses!" I retorted despite cupid whispering into my ears, "Now don't you be rude!"

He took me shopping. He took me for a romantic sea-food lunch. We went for a movie. And yet we wished the day not end. We caught yet another movie before saying the inevitable good-byes. We parted having firmly replaced the word 'LIKE' with another four letter, more meaningful word-'LOVE'. 

Giddy headed days of day-dreaming and exchange of romantic SMSes flew by in a blink. December 24th arrived. The so called Christmas eve party thrown by Baji had suddenly turned into a surprise birthday party for me at midnight with the arrival of a cute birthday cake. I clapped, cut cake and blew candles like a giggly little girl. And he had to go and make it more wonderful by admitting his love in the presence of all our relatives, at the very spot where we had first seen each other- on the front porch of his Lonavala farmhouse.
February. Oh, the heady month of love! It does something to you doesn't it? It did something to Baji too. We were hurtling, top speed towards marriage. Our elders had given us a year to zero down on a date but this man refused to wait. He'd given me a swell birthday gift by making our relationship official on that day. Now in return, he demanded his birthday gift in March but I refused to budge. 
" please darling, lets wait. Time will fly. You won't even know!"  I ended the tiff there.

February 14th, the quintessential day of love. The lusciously green and misty Aamby Valley in the background, Baji slipped a ring onto my right ring finger. "It should be the left ring finger you silly man!" I squealed as I jumped up and hugged him. I loved it. "..but why a BLUE STONE? And why not pink or red ?" I asked. "Or even white?" I winked.
" You ask too many questions!" He groaned. "Its BLUE! Simply because, my dear, it comes from my heart! Love has made me blind....to colour too." He said.

How could I refuse his  proposal for marriage now? March it would be he said and in March it was!



This #SoundOfLove video reminded me so much of the way I had Baji do a jig for me. :)


This elusive thing called 'Love' is such an enriching feeling, that it was difficult to believe when it began to flow in abundance towards me. I am ever so grateful to Blog Adda and BlueStone for sending me down memory lane once again. 

“I am participating in the #SoundOfLove activity atBlogAdda in association with Bluestone”.



Jan 29, 2015

The Aryavarta Chronicles Book 3-KURUKSHETRA: Book Review

The Aryavarta Chronicles Book 3-KURUKSHETRA
Author- Krishna Udayasankar
Publisher- Hachette India
My Rating: ***1/2
About the Author- Krishna Udayasankar is a graduate of the National Law School of India University (NLSIU), Bangalore, and holds a PhD in Strategic Management from the Nanyang Business School, Singapore, where she presently works as a lecturer.





“For a while, Criticism travels side by side with the Work, then Criticism vanishes and it's the Readers who keep pace."


That's precisely what happened with me when I picked up this book with the other end in mind. I had planned to review it and being a die-hard historical fiction fan had already made up my mind to read it like a good critic would. What fueled my criticism were the numerous typographical errors. So many missing letters in words which changed the meaning and structure of the sentence.for eg. 'Identity' became 'identify' on page. 31. This book sorely required some more proof-reading. There was also one sentence on Page 360- "And the toxin? Where it is?". This left me in splits in the middle of reading a gravely serious scene. Especially in the last few pages, the frequency of errors increased as the end of the book approached. It seemed the author had furiously typed away and the proof-reader lost patience by the end of the book.

The book cover reads, 'The Epic as it was never told before'. This made it all the more enticing and exciting to pick this book up. Not having read the previous two books of the Aryavarta Chronicles, I was absolutely clueless to what I should expect from the story telling. It could be an advantage for it would mean getting to read the juiciest part - the end but it also meant struggling to imagine the build up from the first two books. Nevertheless, I quite liked the author's style of story telling. The English is impeccable. She clearly has a knack for writing long sentences with deeper meanings and an absolutely brilliant vocabulary. However at the very beginning of the book I felt like it was becoming a tedious task to read this book. I still kept ploughing through the pages since the Mahabharata and the story of the war at Kurukshetra has been my long time favourite epic about ancient India.

However I soon realised that from page 161 onward I stopped being critical about the prose and was taken in by the book. I was engrossed in reading and keeping pace with the fast progressing storyline. I finally stopped falling off the wagon as the narration became more and more interesting. Like the back blurb reads,I must agree that the author did show great imagination in narrating the gory war episode that ensued over the period of 18 and odd days. One may imagine a war story would only have a cold and chilling effect but in this book there was passion, there was rage, there was love, lust and a whole lot of conspiracy, politics and sly strategies too. I loved it how she has woven a 'Mills & Boon'-esque story of the love birds Uttara and Abhimanyu into the very fabric of the heated battlefield. That made for a welcome break from the constant long drawn and brain-whacking discussion between all the prime characters. 

My favourite part of the Kurukshetra war was the extensive description of the various battle formations that was written very intelligently. However my grouse is the way the character of Govinda Shauri developed in the plot. In my opinion the character of Govinda Shauri has been painted more like a 'Narada' in the first half of the book than like 'Narayana'. While by the end of the book Govinda is jerked into emerging as a God. The transition didn't appear smooth or convincing to me. He also teetered on the brink of sounding so vain and confused about what he exactly wanted from it all? Why was he triggering the war after all? And suddenly when he had to convince Partha to wake up and smell the stench of the Kuru fields, to pick up his Gandiva and stop being silly, Govinda Shauri almost abruptly begins expounding such intelligent philosophy. Also his God-like sermon is being lapped up by an over-eager and already very convinced Partha. The same Partha who was doubting Govinda's credibility a minute ago, keeps oscillating between blind belief and distrust. Otherwise I also missed the mention of the very famous gem that Aswattama was born with, on his forehead, probably kept out on purpose to portray him as a normal human being unlike a demi-god. Though the character has been dealt with very nicely, the story of how his father Dron was tricked into believing his son was dead was also only briefly touched upon. 

Also I have a personal penchant for well-selected names of characters in a story. Krishna Udaysankar may have tried to give the story a new flavour by spelling the names of the various characters of the Mahabharata differently but I would have preferred it if they didn't sound like they belonged with Harry Potter. Why make him 'Dhrstyadymn' that will be read as Dhr-stya-dim by dropping the vowels when most of the other names were written as they have always been spelt. Same goes for 'Pradymna'. When its 'Kripa' and 'Govinda' then why call him 'Dron' and not Drona? She has also dropped the 'h' from many names that may go unnoticed by wont of habit in reading the names as they are usually pronounced in Hindu historical fiction.

 The explanation and introduction of the cast of characters and the family tree given at the very beginning of the book helped me understand the concept of the 'Firewrights' and the 'Firstborn'. 

All in all, the author has written a book with all her sincerity, integrity and skill. And I salute her for finishing the trilogy so beautifully on one of the most complex epics from Indian history. The kind of research and study that has gone into this endeavour is exemplary and worth a roaring applause. 

I thank BlogAdda for sending me such a wonderful book.

This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!
  






Jan 28, 2015

All the myriad things that define 'ME'! #UseYourAnd

Words, in black and white, telling a story and in verse. Words always intrigued me ever since my school teacher held my hand and taught me to hold my pencil to write them on paper, slowly, steadily. One of those many words that brought me pride was 'ME' when I wrote an essay and scored the highest in my English class at fifth grade in school. Writing became my passion and I found solace in it.

So here goes yet another piece on that very word 'ME' which triggered my story-telling years ago. 

A funny happy-sad picture of the day that spelt victory!
Someone who knew me as a child would use just one word to define me- 'Tomboy'! Yes, I was just that and more. I was more energetic than any boy of my age and grew up wielding a wooden bat playing 'Galli Cricket' with the boys from our society. That was a hugely different me, with a short crop of golliwog hair, grazed knees and a badly sun-tanned face. Sweaty and grimy after a great game outdoors, my mother had a tough time getting me to look girlish, if she were to ready me for an outing. I however clearly remember she taught me to be myself and not let that label become something that would hold me back. She taught me to use it to my advantage and make the most of it. And that's exactly what I did! In an all girls convent school, I stood out not like a sore-thumb between all the lovely girls but as an outstanding athlete with great leadership qualities. I was elected as a Cabinet Minister and saw that my squad bagged sports trophies under my captaincy.

Then came that phase of life as a an adolescent. I was studying Commercial Arts at an all girl's college once again in South Mumbai. That was one transitional phase when all the beautiful, well turned out girls around me, suddenly opened my eyes out to a whole new fact. I could become equally lovely too. I distinctly remember those days when I consciously began changing myself. I let my hair grow into long tresses. I had my ears pierced and began sporting earrings too. I realised I had a natural flare for dressing fashionably and soon became popular amongst friends for my unique sense of matching accessories with my clothes. Yes. Vibhuti and 'matching' chandelier earrings became synonymous. And till date I remain passionate about my collection of earrings. And that is how I acquired that label of being a 'Fashionista', very early on in life.

All through the five years of rigorous training in applied (fine) arts for Advertising, I discovered that time and again I felt divided between two passions- my love for art and my passion for writing. Its been a decade that I have been experimenting with my capabilities and exploring career opportunities alternating as an 'Artist' and as a 'Writer', thankfully blessed with success as both. The brush and the metaphorical pen can easily be declared as the only two friends who have been by my side through thick and thin. I cannot imagine a world without them. I find solace in painting and self-expression through writing.

Like every other girl dreams of I discovered there was more to 'ME' when I smoothly transitioned from being only a 'Daughter' to my doting father to being a loving 'Wife' and then a 'Mother' to two naughty little boys. I thought I'd found my comfort zone and would have readily settled down for these beautiful coveted titles, if the 'Vibhuti' from somewhere deep down inside had not gone on chiming that there were many more words waiting out there to define 'ME'. That I would be happier and would be able to keep the cheer in my home only if I kept the passion in my heart beating.



'Blogging' changed my world and in 2009 I thought that there couldn't be a more wonderful title than calling myself a 'Blogger'. My ambitions grew and I went out for a gulp of a mouthful of sky. 'Not Totally Unbelievable' my maiden collection of short stories was published in 2011 and I was thrilled to hear me being referred to as an 'Author'. My life's dream of getting published by the age of 30 was accomplished.


Last year I experimented with an idea, of bringing my passion for fashion and art together and launched my label of hand-painted fashion accessories. And India's prestigious 'The Week' magazine interviewed me, mentioned my label and quoted my take on fashion, in its cover feature of the February 2015 issue.

My hand-painted gemstone chandelier earrings..:D
There are a myriad other things that can define 'ME'. Especially this new Avatar that I have taken on. My knack for socialising through the various online media is a story in its own self. I enjoy it to the hilt and feel blessed that I am able to cut out a career for myself as a Social Media Strategist.  My virtual world between my Facebook friends, the Twitterati and my BlogAdda Dost is a heartwarming part of my life. 

I wonder what would I have done without these varied elements that make up my life? What would I have done if my life was also like those  many unfortunate girls out there who have never been given an opportunity to go out and explore the myriad possibilities that life can offer. What if I was forced to pick between the ORs and close my eyes to the ANDs that I have enjoyed in my life. 

I would have felt suffocated if I was to live with one of the stereotypical labels given to girls at large. What if my parents were to stunt my growth, not letting me metamorphose to my choice, as AND when! I am grateful and thankful that they let ME be me and I used the opportunities completely. I am proud of that! 

In sharing my story I wish to say that like me you can  #UseYourAnd too. 
All you women must #UseYourAnd. There's an inexplicable happiness in finding that there are a multitude of things that define me, not just one! There's a sense of pride to say that my life is defined by the word 'AND', not by an 'OR'..

I am thankful to Gillette Venus and BlogAdda for triggering such a lovely blogging idea where women will be motivated to break out of the shackles of the 'OR'  to wake up and embrace the 'AND' within.

If my story has inspired you enough, watch this video to know more about how you can  #UseYourAnd 



This post is a part of #UseYourAnd activity at BlogAdda in association with Gillette Venus