Nasty ads up my turf!!!

Is it just me or is anyone else getting these weird ads on your blog's home page?

I don't know what happened, but I get these ads only on the first page. I also observed that I had this weird plugin called Adanak that seemed to pop up every time I did a Google search. I managed to find the adware in question and uninstalled it. But despite that, (the plugin in the search pages have long since vanished) I keep getting these ads popping up in my blog's home page. Mind you, it's only in the home page that I get to see these ads and only in the Chrome browser. I want to know if it's just my computer or if everyone is seeing these ads.

For anyone who's browsing through my site, if you find these ads popping up, could you let me know in the comments? That would be really helpful!

EDIT: The ads have seemingly vanished, but I would want to make it doubly certain. So, if there is anything weird with the blog at all, do let me know!

Cold coffee...

The curtains dance in the wind. The steady buzz of the computer’s fan is the only sound in the room. It isn’t too hot. I don’t switch on the AC…no, I don’t need it today. There is a slight hint of a shower in the horizon. Yes, let it rain… about time it did! My hands scroll the roller of the mouse downwards as I see the Facebook page ride upwards.

Updates… of people from an age long gone by. Smiles, happiness, joy… all of the emotions that suddenly seem absent from my life. I know I sound like I whine… I know there are plenty of reasons for me to be truly happy. I know there are those who’re not even half as lucky and blessed as I am. And yet, the sigh that escapes my lips belies the fact that I am unhappy.

Stupid bitch! I scream in my head. Why do you give a shit what other people are up to? They sure as hell don’t! My eyes travel to my right leg. It’s heavily bandaged to hide the swelling that just does not go away. An injured ligament is what they call it. Hell’s calling card is what I call it.

A random acquaintance has gotten married, the stupid social networking site screams. She stands with her handsome as hell husband and exudes positive radiance… like a gazillion nukes going off simultaneously. I snort. I look at the vacant ring finger of my left hand. And I remember… how he held it as though prolonged contact could give him some horrible disease. I smirk as I think of the line he drew on our bed, commanding me not to cross over. A bit rich coming from a guy who looked like a walrus in a suit. Another sigh follows… marriage… a farce in my case! I click on the link that opens her album. She exhibits her wedding for the whole world to see. And rightly so! They look so happy… so in love. My thoughts again turn back to the day I saw him for the first time in person. An engagement that lasted a year did nothing to break the ice. All we spoke about was the stupid internship I’d take if I ever was to join his side as his wife… a job interview. That was what it was…it was always about the job I’d get. Never about the life we’d build together. I snort back a laughter as I think of the person I was back then. How could I have settled for so little? But then again, I look around me. There is nobody here. Little was all I had back then… compared to the nothing I have right now.

I sigh again… I seem to slowly be replacing my breathing with sighs. I truly wish her happiness as I close the album. I can’t afford to have them see me crumble. They say it’s much better out than in. They say I’m sure to get a good guy to look after me. Like I need to be looked after. They worry I’ll be all alone when they leave. Little do they know that I’ve always been alone. I’ve always felt this way even in a room full of people. And sometimes, being alone both inside and outside is worlds better than having to radiate a warmth I don’t possess surrounded by people who couldn’t give a shit.

I log off. My coffee has gotten cold… just the way I like it. I take a sip, savouring the sugary goodness that would be lost in the heat. Life is bittersweet. And somehow, it makes life all the more beautiful and precious. I don’t give a rat’s ass if I will ever find a soulmate… no… I’ve already found the perfect partner. My eyes dart her way as we walk towards each other. Our hands reach out to each other as I take in her messy hair and her lined eyes. Her eyes crinkle into a smile as our fingertips touch each other. The cold glass pane is all that divides us. Myself from myself. We take another sip and close our eyes.

We’re finally where we want to be, precious! 

On the realization that I am a Feminist!

I’m not going to beat around the bush with this one. I am a feminist. A Fem-Nazi as some term it… and I’ve never been prouder of the fact.

There was a time in my past when I always wanted to walk the “mid-path”. You know… not be thought of as being too radical… not being too passive at the same time. The moderate path, where I chose to be and expected the world to do the same. But that, my dear reader, was a fool’s hope. You see, it took some beatings to realize that the world is not going to cut you some slack just because you view the world in a very moderate light. Sure, there are good people and bad people everywhere. But it wasn’t until I chose to break the bondages of an emotionally and verbally abusive marriage that I began to realize, the world views us women in a very harsh light.

Let me explain more in detail here…

In my country, no matter how much we claim to be advanced, there is always this undercurrent that connects our actions to our dark past. And we shrug when encountering it, calling it part of our culture. A culture where women were expected to just bear the brunt of being with abusive people – whether parents or others.  They hailed women to be the givers of life but they never asked if she wanted to. They called her a paragon of virtue while they denied her every right to pleasure. She was to be the mother, friend, lover and advisor of her man but when the final decision was made, she had to acquiesce with nary a murmur. That was the sign of a good woman, they said… One who could be called upon when needed and one who shut up when not.

Women were, and still are treated to be some sort of an abstract idea that is applied to people possessing the right gonads. You’re born a women in my country? Well… you can be all forward thinking and what not but there will always be limitations…. Always!

Before people come up in arms against me, claiming I’m being too harsh and that this is not the moderate’s way of thinking, let me explain.

I've realized that being a moderate is not helping anyone! Not the women who’re being taken for granted… not the men who claim to be victims of “feminism”. Nobody. You’re either with the downtrodden, in their pits, fighting their fight… or you’re against them… oppressing them further with either your indifference or your actions – both equally dangerous.

I have chosen a side. I've chosen the side of the feminist. And this does not mean that I am going to burn my bras or clank my sauce pans in public… please! What is that going to achieve? But let this be marked well… for any injustice that is done against any of my sisters or brothers anywhere in the world, I shall take it as injustice against me. And yes. I did say brothers. That includes the men, for those who’re too shocked to comprehend.

Feminism isn’t about putting men down… it’s about raising women up. It’s not about the supremacy of one gender over the other – it’s about all people being equal. It’s about people being treated as people rather than as some template upon which society has placed values and virtues to suit its taste. It’s about treating everyone as a living, feeling, emoting being and giving the due respect. And if that makes me a Fem-Nazi, bring it on!!!

Work and how it's progressing.... mundane updates from the new place

For the first time in my life, I've actually managed to get a colleague hate me! And yes, I seriously am so proud of myself.

Before you begin to wonder about my sanity, let me make it clear. I am well loved by everyone else and it is just one individual who has decided to heap the hatred on me for the singular fact that I testified truthfully against her in office.

Having either been a wallflower all my life, I've never been in the thick of things, you might say. I've always been the one who got the news last. Always the minnow at gossip tables. Always the one who was part of the decor. So, it is really interesting that suddenly, I am noticed... like a teenager being hit on by the big boys for the very first time... it's all so exhilarating yet scary.

Work has been leaving me with absolutely no energy left to do just about anything outside it. People are kind for the most part and everyone is helpful and friendly... except that one person...

She has, what one would call, a hypocritical heart. She balks against orders while she has absolutely no qualms handing out orders to people at the drop of a hat. She speaks against discrimination while she treats those below her with such contempt and superiority. One wonders just how she has the audacity to go on being who she is and still expect the world to bend to her every whim. She shouts at people just because they don't treat her like a heavenly maiden whose descent into our mortal plane must, according to her, have us singing her praises every day.

Well, I don't exactly wake up to please her, anyway.

For the rest of the people, they're all nice. Coming from a place where people have always had a smile on their faces while they've sunk their blades into my back, having well meaning bosses who unsmilingly see the goodness in me and treat me well, is a nice change.

I have my own cubicle and I'm given control of a single batch of Japanese studies. I have everything that I've missed in my old office with none of the bad things.

Recently, I fell down and tore a ligament in my right leg. I could have taken the day off the next day. But somehow, I felt like going. My workplace has become a sort of home for me. I miss the work... I miss my friends... and most of all, I miss the sense of inclusion I feel there.

Am I turning into a workaholic? *Le gasp* I sure hope not! And even if I am, it's good to be busy!

The fonts just don't seem nice!!

I'd observed a few days ago that the custom fonts that I had used for my blog have suddenly stopped working. I was irked more than I care to admit. So, for the time being, I've changed the fonts to what I believe are the closest to what I would have chosen if I had all the fonts in the world to choose from.

I'm in the process of finding a good font and the technical know-how of how to put it there. The method I tried last time isn't working. Maybe I'm doing something wrong... maybe the method just doesn't work anymore. The more I undergo these ridiculous issues with my blog, the more I'm tempted to start writing in my own domain. But that requires a little bit of time and money. Even if I do have the latter by God's grace, I am poor on time right now.

So, dear readers whose eye is twitching the same way mine does when a font is just not right, bear with me.

I'll soon find a solution. I can't stand it just as much as you!

So, off I go!  

A little reminder

For anybody out there who has been worried about my absence from this blog, I'd like to reassure them with the news that I am well, if a little too busy. I've gotten myself a better job and a new laptop from which I am writing this entry.

And life has generally been good to me mostly.... actually, there have been some really rough patches here and there... and when I mean really rough, I mean insanely rough. People have asked me in open wonder how I've managed to get through those patches. And I do not brag, dear reader. I don't know how I got through. There was God helping me along the way, I guess. He's always there... always by my side, protecting and guiding me to where I need to be.

This post is just a place holder. A little reminder to everyone who'll chance upon it to smile and believe that no matter how hard life seems right now, it will get better. The whole universe is working hard to get you what you want. Whatever it be! So, don't give up. And remember... there's always hope!

Karna's Wife - The Outcast's Queen: A Book Review

There are stories that we are told right from when we were wee little babies in our crib. Stories that have been passed down from one generation to the next - sometimes as a story that is told or sometimes as a book that is written. If there is one thing that is common about all these tales, it is the fact that they change as we age. What was a mere fable of how Good triumphed over Evil from our childhood suddenly turns into the perfect character study of the complex nature of the Human psyche. And if we were to line up all the stories of the world that boast of possessing such richness of depth, I am in no doubt that India's Mahabharatha will be among the top three.


I remember listening with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as my grandmother extolled tales of the Pandava princes and their quest for justice and cheered whenever they won over the evil Kaurava princes.
And now, a good two decades later, as I re-read the tales, I am able to read between the lines a little more and it amazes me how perfectly this particular epic manages to capture human emotions in all its complexities. The black and white world of my childhood has greyed out into a myriad shades as I see the goodness in the Kauravas and the sliver of evil in the Pandavas.
So, it would be the most obvious guess that I was delighted when I saw Kavita Kané's newest book, Karna's wife - The Outcast's Queen, calling out to me from the shelf of my neighbourhood book store.

"The Book"

The book is from the point of view of Karna's wife - a fictitious character who goes by the name, Uruvi. Uruvi, the kshathriya princess of Pukeya, defies societal norms by choosing the charioteer's son, Karna over the illustrious Arjuna for her husband. And from then on, the book goes on to tell the age old tale through her eyes.

Truth be told, I could not put the book down for the first fifty or so pages - the swayamvara - a ceremony where a suitor is chosen for the princess or one where the princess chooses herself a husband, was so well written that it felt like I was actually standing there, right beside Krishna (the only other person who knows the future), and watching the scene unfold.
But towards the middle, the story sagged a bit. The writer, suddenly, moved from telling the tale from Uruvi's point of view to just giving what seemed like a third person's point of view of the story, just that it was being quoted by some character to the protagonist. I find this a classic example of loss of focus. As an amateur writer myself, I know how it feels - being in the middle of the story, suddenly losing the drive to write, you feel lik you're being dragged down by the scene you're in. You see the end but it keeps moving farther away even as you inch towards it. But the mark of a true writer is not wavering from the mission set and finishing the story as one coherent piece. The prowess to do that sets apart the stalwarts of the trade from us, the mere mortals.
That said, I should say Uruvi is a character with a lot of potential. But towards the middle, she loses that something that makes her relateable. I found myself more attached to Karna - his character being truer to character than his wife. 
The dialogues were, truthfully, very painful to read. Half the time, I skimmed through them without missing much of the story. And that, again is not a good sign. I wish she had been a wee bit more intangibly descriptive - like Stephen King or Herman Hess. But I fear I have very high expectations out of my writers, don't I?!
Characters were slowly becoming two dimensional and the only one who stood above them all as a believable character was Karna. But since the book is not from his point of view, I had to wait with bated breath for him to make an appearance. Kane has managed to make Karna the vulnerable tragic hero that I loved. Towards the end, even Duryodhana, the 'vile' Kaurava prince was portrayed to have a sense of humanity. It brought a sense of familiar perfection that I had long since associated Mahabharatha with.
Everything said, I did feel a bit of a twang in my heart when the final page was read. And that must mean the author got something right!

This is the author's first work. So, I am sure she will only get better with the next one - a take on another amazing epic from India - the Ramayana; only this time, the story is from the point of view of Urmila, the forgotten sister of Sita and the dutiful wife of Lakshmana. I am looking forward to reading that.

All in all, I give this book 3❤'s out of 5.