phbbt

Drinkify

2012-01-19T05:32:00.000-08:00

{From top-bottom}

Colourful drinks at Pizzeria Romano / Tea at studio with two cat-people and a fly-cup /

Kullad chai, pakoda platter and radio at Chai Patty /

Sick-day soup and comic books at Cafe Terra

The original drinkify.
Recommended searches: Bappi Lahiri, Himesh Reshammiya, Bob Dylan (amongst others)

Juno

2012-01-17T07:41:00.000-08:00

Once upon what seems like a long time ago, a little half lab-half something* was brought to the studio. Multiple naming ceremonies resulted in Juno, which I am pretty sure she confused with the NO! that she heard all the time. It's impossible to try and sketch her now, because she is never ever ever still. This is an old one, from one of those peaceful puppy-nap days.

* Most definitely part cat-part monkey

Penciljam@CKP

2012-01-15T11:19:00.000-08:00

I've been only to two Penciljams (both with Sparkles) and actually sketched only at one. This Penciljam was at Chitra Kala Parishat, early last year- lovely pillars throwing shadows, lots of trees and even a little temple. There was a crafts fair happening on the same day, so the relatively empty campus slowly filled up with colourful stalls, people and more people. Eventually the sketching gave way to shopping for pretty thingummies :D

Lots of catching up to do with posts!

Powerpeff

2012-01-15T09:49:00.000-08:00

Mallu overdose.
Yes. Happens.

True story.
(The overdose I mean)

Sparkles the Bunny Cat

2012-01-14T10:51:00.000-08:00

Sparkles makes the world go meeeaaoooww.

The Painted Postcards : 1

2011-12-07T19:40:00.001-08:00

Well, hopefully part-1 that is.

*
In a fit of boredom and missing my college friends, I decided to make postcards for everyone.

Eventually, I made only two and then never found my way to the post-office. Now that both the cards have been delivered- many months after they were made- here they are - a Singin' in the Rain + batch joke inspired card for the louwely Mildred and film reels and chai cups + Filmclub louwe for the amazing and newly christened Strawbella.

More soon (again, hopefully).

POSTER PAINTS / ROTRING / COLOUR PENCILS / PHOTO INKS ON RS.0.50 POSTCARD

Bengaluru Habba

2011-03-27T10:42:00.001-07:00

Nothing can compare with the experience of listening to a band for the first time, at a live concert, and loving it. I've managed that a few times at Bangalore (Advaita, Motherjane, Thermal and a Quarter). Thanks to a certain Mogambo's scouting skills, I managed to catch the last of the Jazz concerts at the Bengaluru Habba- the Amit Heri Quartet (Amit Heri + Maarten Visser + Keith Peters + Jeoraj) and blues band Soulmate, from Shillong.

The stage / Amit Heri / Tipriti Kharbangar

photo credit: Siddharth Mohanty

Lesson learnt after the Indian Ocean gig, this time I took along a black gel pen, oil pastels and my neon crayolas, last year's birthday gift from a Sighing Billi. The setting was so lovely, I just had to draw- open skies at the UB City rooftop amphitheatre. I only wish we didn't have the UB tower as a backdrop to the whole thing.

Amit Heri was a lot more jazz-ey than Prasanna was, but one could make out the Indian classical music touches to most of the pieces. (Again, especially with the names-like Incidental Kalyani. Is there something about Kalyani and fusion music? Prasanna has a track called Kalyani Connection).

Soulmate was a revelation. I was playing their music on loop off the internet for a week, but at the concert, I was far more fascinated with the lead singer Tipriti 'Tips' Kharbangar. You will have to watch videos of their gigs (or even better, catch them live) to get what I mean about Tips. These sketches do no justice to the energy she had on stage.

Conclusions after a series of concert drawings:

- I like drawing drums and mikes.

- Guitars are best drawn while they are being played.

- Women are more fun to draw than men.

Indian Ocean LIVE

2011-03-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

The Indian Ocean gig here last year (atleast the one I went for) was part of Bongalore's Durga Puja celebrations. It was vastly different experience compared to the my first time at an Indian Ocean concert, in 2005 at IIM-A's Chaos. For starters we were in the midst of fish-filled uncles and aunties, and not drunk-in-dry-state students. Also, we had seats. Not the lounging on grass, staring at stars in the January cold this time.

BUT, strange enough, the concert managed to drag me out of my 'not in the mood to sketch' mood, which had lasted a few too many months. Note to self: Always, ALWAYS carry a pen. Just a pencil may not always suffice.

As you can see, shameless autograph getting also happened.

The Fantastic Tale of my Fluoroscent Nails

2011-03-13T08:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's not fantastic and all. I just liked the sound of it.

I've always been guilty of strange coloured nailpaint. It was not allowed in my school, and I used to sneak around during term exams (when I was eleven) with nail art that involved more than one blinding colour. Somewhere along the way, I eventually gave up on that. But a summertime of sickness can make one do strange things.

Aided by the sister, I have rediscovered the joys of non-pink/red/brown nailpaint. And yes, the fluoroscent in the drawing is the actual nailpaint.

Victor Wooten + Guitar Prasanna LIVE

2011-03-01T04:36:00.000-08:00

Much music discovery happened last year, Guitar Prasanna was one of them (thanks again to cousin). Think Carnatic music on guitar. Now imagine Carnatic+Bop+Blues. Ahh.

Finally managed to catch his concert last year. Prasanna was playing with Victor Wooten, and most of the crowd seemed to have come to listen to him. I'd never heard Wooten before, but Oh-My-God, the man has magic fingers when it comes to the bass guitar. Most of the pieces they performed were Prasanna's tracks though (I really love the names of all the tracks. So very Madras)

I squeezed my way through the crowd and managed to draw a bit, again in the dark.

The entire ensemble: Prasanna on guitars/vocals, Victor Wooten on bass/vocals, S.Karthick on ghatam and Bangalore Amrit on the kanjira.

The End of Summer Last

2011-02-14T04:19:00.001-08:00

Trying to keep a feng shui plant from drying up, hot sticky auto rides back home, A and I giving each other company while I illustrated and she studied; the only thing keeping us going through it all were the coffee house breaks (sometimes to work, thanks to Bangalore's many many power cuts), the constant fresh fruit bowl courtesy JJ waiting in the fridge every other night and accidental (and rare) discovery of good mallu music.

~
It's been a long long time since I showed my head around here; almost exactly a year. Now, a diploma project+documentation+graduation+new apartment later, I'm back.

Cue: *APPLAUSE*
~

drip drip drip

2010-03-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

Written on a wet, dark, rainy day.
Left quite unfinished as thoughts flit between Bangalore, Milan and elsewheres in time.

***

It pours.

It beats on the roof and down on the swelling puddles. The noise is so much, I can't hear over the rain. I put down my headphones and pause iTunes.

Pangaea Rising
Be the Change

Reminds me of the Great Deluge. Apt.

Clouds roll ahead, like surf hitting the beach. Fluid. They glide. The rain slows down to a simmer, it sounds like static. Little grains of blue, black, grey and white dance in a frenzy. Hypnotising. Numbing. A single drop jumps into an empty bucket, the moment of collision echoes through the room. It jumps, echoes; again and again and again until it exhausts itself.

Silence.

Cold cold silence. It hangs around me, moist, damp, heavy. There are no ceiling fans here. I stare at the flat white ceiling. The snow continues to float outside in the streetlights. There must be a wind too, the snow isn't falling straight.

I sleep.

The wind makes it seem colder. I put on my yellow raincoat as we step outside. It smells strange, a mix of cold rain and new plastic. My shoes are drenched, they squelch with every step, from the water inside and the slush outside. We trek back to Bison Valley Lodge; I hope the leeches stay clear of me.

***

Kochi

2010-01-22T03:55:00.000-08:00

I finally made my way to Cochin last week. Internet Kerala was actually all around me and I got extremely kicked when I saw an endless canopy of coconut trees before we landed at the airport (the inside of which smelled of sandalwood). On the car ride from the airport, I counted Kallu kadas, lost track of coconut trees and attempted to read Malayalam. I can actually make out a lot of the characters, so a game of fill-in-the-blanks usually worked for the simpler words.

It was all so oddly familiar.
Except for the accent, which was extremely surreal.

Drew Mohiniattam and Kathakali dancers in the dark, sniffed at spices and stared at windows in Jew Town, saw how fish is caught in Cheenavalas and watched fishermen mend nets, and sat at random places in the sun to draw.

Airports and Sleepyheads

2010-01-22T03:51:00.000-08:00

Bengaluru, Amdavad, Kochi

*new notebook: A gift from long ago, and a format that I ought to learn to use better me thinks.

People People Everywhere

2009-12-13T05:02:00.000-08:00

At work

Barista, Koramangala

Tea, Coffee & Lemon cake

2009-11-18T21:18:00.000-08:00

The past few weeks have seen coffee cup studies, a box of Ferrero Rocher, the return of Earl Grey Bergamot and lots of the boss's famous lemon cake- this time with orange flavoured cranberries.

Excuse me while I go back to dreaming about lemon cake day.

another afternoon

2009-10-30T04:17:00.000-07:00

Quick one. At the pg.
In retrospect, very very warped.

ballpoint pen, derwent pencils, fat fluoroscent lyra pencils

At the printer's

2009-10-28T04:21:00.001-07:00

Two days at the screen printer's spent watching colours being mixed, asking seemingly silly questions about screens, staring at positives taped to a white board, listening to Kannada discussions on structures for signage and drinking tea from a tumbler.

brush pen, dry pastels, dried up poster paints.

The woes of a wait.

2009-10-26T02:36:00.001-07:00

A mouse-like woman sits next to me as I wait my turn. As much as I try to hide my papers from her, I constantly catch her peering, trying to read something. She has cracked heels and wears large spectacles. Some men crowd around the counter I need to get my money from. Another bunch of women huddle around the counter (DOCUMENTATION) in front of me. I spot the doctor who got her forms stamped last Thursday. She looks sweet, like those doctors who don't like to prescribe even crocin to their patients. The mousey woman still peeks into my notebook when she takes breaks from fidgeting. Voices rise from somewhere inside the city of cubicles. Mouse Woman sits straight, pulling at her nails, not unlike what I do. The man manning DISBURSEMENT COUNTER has disappeared.

More people walk in.

The door is peculiar. Every once in a while, it makes a pop. Like a tennis raquet cutting through the air just as it smashes a ball back. It feels like a release in the vaccuum of noise inside. Pop. Silence. Pop. Silence. I welcome the silence followed by every burst in the door, even though they last less than a few seconds.

My turn arrives. I'm sent along with my folder to meet the manager who isn't here. Why isn't anyone ever in their places? He arrives only to walk off to the other end of the cubicle maze. At this point of time, I sit diagonally across my earlier seat, minutes ago. I'm still on something chequered though. Pink and chequered. I just realise that the entire place is done up in salmon pink. A pink bank.

Written sometime last year, Septemberish.
One of many days of waiting at SBI, Ahmedbad.

Cold Chocolate Horlicks and Buttered Bun

2009-10-15T23:09:00.001-07:00

Scenes from the workplace.

Advaita LIVE.

2009-09-11T04:59:00.000-07:00

Went for Advaita's performance at Kyra with the cousin.
Beautiful beautiful music. I heard a sarangi for the first time and loved it.

Headbanging+drawing=TOTALLY enjoyed.

Advaita on myspace .
(My favourites are Ghir Ghir and Durga).

A daylong evening

2009-09-07T02:46:00.000-07:00

Counting custard apple seeds, listening to the rain drum its fingers on the trees.

Watching cars splash through puddles while the dogs stare instead of chasing them.

A spray of leaves, the drizzle looks yellowgreen for a moment.

Clouds cast shadows, evening has arrived mid-day.

Fishy stuff

2009-08-19T05:14:00.001-07:00

A very...er...intellectual conversation between the bosses that swam right over my vegetarian head.

Evenings

2009-08-19T05:09:00.001-07:00

A marocchino at Barista. I miss Milan. :-/

Inside an auto back to Prachi's place. I tripped on the text behind the driver's seat. Totally.

Manvasanai

2009-08-19T05:02:00.001-07:00

An evening at Greenhouse with La and Avi and a cup of pudina tea. It looked like it was about to rain.

(This is so you guys know you're being missed, ok?)

dumm-dumm-dumm

2009-07-20T10:16:00.000-07:00

Two weddings.

One was a cousin's and the other, a 60th wedding (actually the 60th birthday) of an aunt and uncle. Both were filled with tambrahm mamas who chanted endlessly...I suspect some of them were just lip synching...saying the 'swaaha' bits whenever they came.

I had the camera man at the first wedding taping me drawing. Needless to say the subjects of my stalking were constantly running off in the wedding madness.

power/cut

2009-07-17T23:47:00.000-07:00

I hear birds.

I can't see them, but they're probably on some wet green tree, shaking the rain off their feathers. I hear the strains of a flute-the music of the wind. It feels like something out of a Ray film-Charulata perhaps- but quickly morphs into something very Kannada. I hear a temple bell, some kids squealing and very loud autos on the main road outside. I hear sporadic mouse-clicking and keyboard-tapping, mimicking the drizzle outside.

It's a rainy rainy day.

Rummaging

2009-07-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

The essence of Graphic design is purple with pink and fluoroscent bubbles and golden vapour. It swirls inside its crystal vial, waiting to break out, to flow and not take the shape of its container.
:From my AGD notes,
(which would mean semester 5, 2007).

Merryn reminded me about this one. My attempt at some dreamy-type writing. Looking at it now, it seems like a strange nailpolish. I think the rest of it makes sense though.

I found lots of other things in this book though, AGD notes that I have no memory of, 3 rants, 2 drawings of Amit Dutta, a lousy portrait of Mridu with all the nicknames we had for her till then, figure sketches of a few people, rgb notes, film language notes, a drawing of SB with all his SB-speaks, a drawing I made at an rgb meeting while sitting at the table under the pest-o-flash, a sketch of Chaplin for a poster in my pre-FIN days and a drawing of leaves above my head at Riverside school-it was drizzling then.

I need to scan some more.

Drifting in a cloud of heat- I

2009-07-10T03:25:00.000-07:00

Ten days

with heavy hot air
that covers you like a thick blanket

of sweat and dust
and countless cups of chai.

aamras, maggi
stupid and/or long conversations

the smell of carpet in the airconditioning,
the vaccuum cleaner and the sound of books

watching bubbles drift up to the clouds
and hoping for rain

falling asleep watching
white flowers and rice lights

of many hours dancing garba.

and freedom within these brick walls.

Drifting in a cloud of heat-II

2009-07-10T02:37:00.001-07:00

A bike at main gate. Lalu keeps refilling chai.

Melting in the BMW

People spotting in the KMC- Ramdom readers, Suresh taking notes and Akhila working.

A lizard on the rosewood windowframe, that never moved for the longest time.
Graphic Design Studio

Confused.

2009-07-05T06:15:00.000-07:00

It's hot.
I have a cold.

Beach thumbnails

2009-06-30T07:55:00.000-07:00

-

2009-06-25T06:44:00.000-07:00

little black pools
of nail shaped nothings.

Povera Italia

2009-05-26T00:11:00.000-07:00

This was a project on Complexity done under the Density Design Lab (Communication Design) at Politecnico di Milano, Italy during a semester long exchange program. Very very unlike the work I've done so far, but I'm glad I got to work on this side of Graphic design as well.

Poverty is a multidimensional and complex phenomenon. Six dimensions of poverty (Food, Housing, Education, Leisure, Health and Occupation) were analysed in the context of Italy, to create a clearer perspective on each topic. The final products were a complexity map and a video for each of the dimensions. When viewed together one can connect them to generate a bigger picture of poverty.

What my group worked on were the complexity map and video for Food and Poverty in Italy.

This complexity map compares fruit and vegetable distribution systems in Italy to understand the relationship between added services and increase in prices. It also identifies problem areas, creating scope for improvement of the existing system.

size: 70cm x 100cm
To view the map in full size, go here.

The animated video takes off from the complexity map, presenting two different fruit and vegetable distribution systems in Italy. While continuing to elaborate the service-price relationship, the video also looks at the pros and cons of each system, explaining the values that
each of them stand for.

duration: 2 min 20 sec

Choice from Shreyas R Krishnan on Vimeo.

Santa Pig meets Santa Piglet

2009-05-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

Old sketch, but still. Kaveri came home yesterday. I had to bribe her and Jasjyot, my poster-elves, with the promise of praaper Italian espresso. Jas fell sick and ditched, but Kaveri made it, and was very fascinated with the moka and the pasta.

She also got me a very byootiful-oh-so-pretty pencil. I louwe it. I intend to hijack the place she got it from, once she reveals its madras location to me.

Summer stalkings

2009-05-20T08:41:00.001-07:00

A bright new notebook, a bottle of ink, an old nib and not-so-secretly stalking people at home.
Not to mention the endless news and ads on TV.

Back to the heat

2009-05-20T08:34:00.000-07:00

post-pedicure, I DO have sparkly blue nails

me drawing me drawing me

Poster-elf #1

2009-05-20T08:30:00.000-07:00

Jasjyot, at night mess. He wanted a hot pink background, but I thought this was sufficiently bling.
And yes, he really was singing that.

Disclaimer: For all you people who want to comment and let me know that I've written 'Sauce' instead of 'Saas'-
My Hindi spellings suck. I know.

Events

2009-05-20T08:16:00.000-07:00

First few days back at NID, over a couple of months ago.

a sunday at Akhila's place

Ganesh-Kumaresh concert at the amphi. Avi and I tripped immensely causing Sarah to declare that if she ever had kids, she'd send them down south to 'get some culture'. tee hee.

ultimi giorni

2009-05-20T08:03:00.000-07:00

Last days and pages at Milan

at lorenzo's place

last day at Duomo

on Malpensa Express

Malpansa Aeroporto

The Predip

2009-04-24T03:58:00.001-07:00

A pre-diploma display, or simply a 'predip' is a display of all the work that a student has done in their time at NID, usually put up in their final semester before commencing the final diploma project (or just 'the dip'). Although it has not been compulsary for many years now, every year some students do still (thankfully) have predip displays.

My first few semesters at NID were spent in self doubt. I was never confident about my work, nor did I believe that I was capable enough. I had wondered many times how I managed to be at a place like NID. The first predip I saw, Ruchita Madhok's I believe, made me determined to be a little more true to my work. I decided then that I'd put up a predip, in the aquarium, and I'd put up everything. Although I continued to go through the remaining months of that year as...er...floaty as I had been until then, looking at that display and some others that followed soon after, did make a difference.

Eventually, something in me woke up, and there was (to me) a perceivable change in the way I looked at my own work and the way I carried myself. The presence of some people who were on campus from that point onwards, helped me even more. I have been lucky enough to be able to involve myself in rgb- India's first inter-college design fest (which took three long years to be realised); as a member of SAC-the Student Activity Council*, and as a member of the NID Filmclub managing committee.

*SAC has since been renamed as the Student Activity Committee.

Looking at 4 years of one's own work immediately puts everything in perspective. I wish I had done so much more in the past few years, but then, the future is what I need to look at now. I have no delusion that my display was amazing or that I have great work. Putting up the display was keeping a promise that I made to myself, and an attempt to keep a dying tradition alive. I hope the coming batches decide to share their work with the community as well.

(There, I have made amends for the retro that I never put up)

Iyer offered to make the poster and headers, "the branding" as he called it. I had 'branded' a shared display that he and Sid had put up, in my third year. A full circle it has come :) Iyer has the poster and all the headers up on his blog.
Posters for Iyer's and Sid's predip display "Something Fishy". Here and here.

Apart from Iyer, Kaveri and Jasjyot, my erstwhile poster-elves made another bling-bling poster.

Here are the rest of the pictures of the display.
Aquarium, NID
9,10,11,12 April

Thank you list, that Mridu and Lee made.
They felt the Italian connection had to be established at some level, hence the 'Grazie'.
Although it just resulted in every visitor to my display asking me "ey what does gray-zee mean?" hehe.

The Furnished Room

2009-04-16T10:34:00.001-07:00

Priyanka Chhabra 's short fiction film The Furnished Room, based on the story by O.Henry, is being screened as part of the Fokus section at the 38th Sehsuchte International Student Film Festival in Potsdam, Germany. She'd asked me to make her a poster and a postcard that would carry the synopsis of the film.

I've used stills of butterflies that Priyanka made using beads and laminate sheets.

(yes me, and butterflies. They always manage to work their way in. aaah)

You can visit the 38th Sehsuchte International Student Film Festival's website www.sehsuchte.de for the schedule.

...

2009-03-23T21:29:00.000-07:00

The heat is killing.

Just killing.

Bleddy desert.

gias laik dat eghen

2009-02-24T08:05:00.000-08:00

i jus' call

to say i love you
i jus' call
to say how much I care

all night long, all night

all night, all night
all night long, all night
all night, all night
all night long, all night
all night, all night

oops! i did it again

i play with your heart
got lost in the game
oh, baby baby!

verry good.

2009-02-18T17:19:00.000-08:00

I wish Ae would read my mind and obey.
So much for technology improving "suoo much eh".
phbbt.

sunnydays

2009-02-14T13:37:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to keep the rest of them from wilting until I leave.

sunset on my wall

2009-02-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

gias laik dat

2009-02-09T11:13:00.000-08:00

AI GIAS COLL TO SEEI AI LOV IU
AI GIAS COLL TO SEEII AU MA C'HAI KEER

(I jus' call to say I love you
I jus' call to say how much I care.)

This is how Italian is read/written.
Spotted on three hoardings today.

Mila

2009-02-09T02:39:00.000-08:00

mugged

2009-02-09T02:36:00.000-08:00

my new big orange mug.
I ate dinner out of it.

and some flowery pasta thing.

Type

2009-01-31T12:15:00.000-08:00

A few months ago I attended Multiverso, Icograda Design Week at Torino- 3 days of workshop and a 2 day conference. The workshop I signed up for was called "Afrikan Alphabets" with Saki Mafundikwa. We had to create letterforms inspired from Afrikan writing systems.

I chose a Jokwa pictogram that tells the story of life.

image from Saki Mafundikwa's book Afrikan Alphabets

This was my character set at the conference.

Was reworking it this week. Here are sketches+w.i.p
I know it looks like a kolam, but that *points to jokwa pictogram* was my reference point.
Fine and also kolam.
(international integration I call it)

I'm still missing K, Y, X. It still needs a LOT of fixing in terms of form, but this is where it's generally heading.

Feedback please!

* * *
edit:
feb 16

R suggested the possibility of the characters being open like the jokwa pictogram as opposed to the closed loops that they are now. This was a doodle amongst many before choosing which direction to proceed in.

With this one, I was trying to go with a more squarish form as in the jokwa, while keeping the open ends to add some interest. BUT, we decided on the kolam-like one since it was more do-able in the given time.

***

twentyone, twice over

2009-01-28T00:35:00.001-08:00

once by IST.
then by Milan time.

This is the longest birthday ever.

me and the blog.
well almost, for the blog.

:D

the willing one

2009-01-27T14:47:00.000-08:00

he suspected
posed
and slept

jules et jim

2009-01-24T13:33:00.000-08:00

assignment for class.
I like only the portraits.

For better view and better explanation go here.

Bleh.

another window

2009-01-24T13:26:00.000-08:00

The view today reminds me of the day I reached Milan. Two windows offer me two different skylines. Asbestos roofs and brick ones. A clear blue sky carries cutout clouds. Still clouds that don't drift, float or move. It's as if the day decided to hold its breath.

23.Gennaio
lunchtime, CS 2.2
Politecnico

nameless faces/faceless names

2009-01-24T13:11:00.001-08:00

Totato Pomato

2009-01-22T10:03:00.000-08:00

I slept at 4.30am, only because she was acting cranky in her half-asleep state. After she realised I was oblivious to her tossing and turning, she sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes like a child being woken up for school on a Monday morning. "Ow long you will kip working?", she managed through her closed eyes. So at 3.30am I turned off the smallest light in the room and plonked myself in semi darkness. There's only so much one can do in the dark, especially since I needed to draw out somethings. I slept. Was going to wake up at 6 which I did (Igot my dad to wake me up, international calls for alarms. Yes, shameless) but decided it was too dark and went back to sleep asking appa to wake me up in a half hour. At seven I realised my phone was on silent and I had many missed calls. Bah. I'm back at my desk now. It's still dark and she is squinching her eyes against the light of my laptop. Sigh, why is she such a light sleeper? Streetlights and moonlight kill her sleep. She doesn't seem like she will survive the night if there was a glowworm around.

The sky is slowly fading from grey to bluegrey. The only way you can figure out if it's morning is by the number of cars on the streets. There is a thick fog outside. L wakes up at 8.30 yawning huge yawns, trying to send me on a guilt trip that I refuse to go on.

*

I had so much coffee, I'm going to have cappuccino instead of blood. Less sleep makes me crack up at stupid things. By stupid I mean anything can send me into a fit of laughter.

*

In Italy, a potato also means punani.
(Those who don't understand, go away, I'm not explaining)

*

Oh, I also had the scanner running for a while through the night. buwahaha.

*

I've had enough of writing eloquent tosh, someone save my funnies please. I need to get back to my Sarcastic Self.

8am

2009-01-12T11:36:00.001-08:00

early morning moonlight
a moonfull of sunlight

buongiorno

2009-01-09T05:18:00.000-08:00

Short days. Long nights. If I had to sleep and rise with the sun, I would be in semi-hibernation. It sets at 5pm and rises not sooner than 8am. The past few days the sky has been grey. A dull flat grey, starched and pressed. A sky so flat and grey it feels surreal. I sleep.

The sky was blue today, the sun was out. I take it as a sign. Outside looks deceptively sunny but I feel the bite of the cold less. After a very long time, morning seems like the beginning of a day. I feel likeI have a whole day ahead of me.

It's beautiful, being able to see the sunlight. This winter sunlight is orange, the dawn-dusk variety. I'm frozen in time.

Orange light on wood. I align my feet with the diagonals on Azzurra's floor. The black flowers on my socks look like shadows. Davide paces about on the wooden floor. Az and Lorenzo sit before me on the table, silhouetted, their faces glow with their macs' special soft light.

A shot of bitter espresso wakes me up. I drink it resisting the urge to dunk a brush in it. I can feel the brownness still in my mouth, it will keep me awake for a while. I look out, the shadows are getting longer. But the sun will not set today, it will abruptly become night. There are still a couple of more hours for that.

road trip

2009-01-04T02:56:00.000-08:00

surprisingly enough, I didn't get violently car-sick, like I usually do.

semiotica

2009-01-04T02:55:00.001-08:00

( non capito un cazzo)

old and the new

2009-01-04T02:49:00.000-08:00

people spotting

2008-12-22T18:39:00.000-08:00

Trains and Travels

2008-12-22T18:25:00.001-08:00

On the train to Nice

We met an Italian
who was reading
the Gita.

Shri Shri Massimo
I named him.

The Cote d'Azur

bluest blue I have ever seen

Bed and Breakfast Gilda
Torino

Castello del Valentino

Icograda Design Week
Torino

Pisa.

The leaning tower was ugly
I loved the buldings and the windows though.

Florence

A Spritz at Venice...

...didn't really stop
my feet from freezing.

The Kiss
at Vienna
we couldn't take pictures
:-/

Fairytale castles
Bratislava

Waiting

2008-12-22T17:46:00.000-08:00

Being Jew

2008-12-17T13:20:00.000-08:00

Black birds sit

on this metal tree.

This is a tree

Each cold leaf

is a person

whose family

wishes

to remember them.

The leaves don't

rustle in the wind

They clang loudly

as stiff as the

dead that they

represent.

Jewish memorial, Budapest

Bride Wanted: the film

2008-12-12T13:46:00.001-08:00

This is a film made by Sarah Dacosta (batchmate, first roommate, and my louwe) as part of her documentary project at NID. She's used my Bride Wanted illustrations in the film.

BRIDE WANTED from Sarah Dacosta on Vimeo.

Go here to give her feedback :)

Cooking

2008-12-12T11:47:00.000-08:00

If Yan can.

I can.

Parla Inglese?

2008-10-25T05:09:00.001-07:00

She points at my Tamil
handwriting and asks
"Is this what you
speak in India?"
I try to explain.

We speak in different
languages in
different parts of the
country.

Her eyes grow wide.
She blinks twice.
Her English fumbles.
She blurts out in
Arabic and then
stops.
"You mean different
accents. yes
Different languages?!
But
Ow it is possibbol
Ow?" Fateh wonders.

Wow says the girl
from Chicago
Y'mean they're compleetly
diffrent?
Like, y'cant understand
what he says?

At this point, I'm tired
My English fumbles.

How do you explain to
someone that A language
does not unite your
country?

Withdrawal symptoms

2008-10-23T06:10:00.000-07:00

Spoiler.
Poster for Friday's filmclub screening.

made in Italy

BRIDE WANTED

2008-09-16T11:46:00.000-07:00

Soumya,Varshini,Shreyas seek to discover notions of Beauty as seen through the Indian Matrimonial ads.

The authors of this assignment are currently in 4th year, GDPD at the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad. This write-up was written for their 6th Semester Science & Liberal Arts course on Aesthetics, taught by Shilpa Das, Akhila Krishnan and Avinash Rajagopal

MATRIMONIALS in India are a common feature in every newspaper, having their origins in the early 20th century. Over time, print and online matrimonials have replaced the traditional brokers who used to mediate marriage alliances between families. A look into today’s matrimonial ads would reveal what the common perception of ‘The Ideal Woman’ is, in
the Indian context. After scanning numerous matrimonial sections we took up six of the most recurrent words and phrases – ‘Fair’, ‘Tall and slim’, ‘Homely’, ‘Convent educated’, ‘Must come from high status family (material wealth)’, ‘Must manage work and home’. We chose to portray these words/ phrases through visuals on postcards. The postcards are intended as take-away/ collectible items with puns derived from Indian media culture, consumerism and mythology.

THE BRIEF A set of six postcards depicting words taken from matrimonials, which we believe could be indicators of ‘Ideal beauty’ in women from an Indian perspective.

To convey a message(an image, an event, speech etc), one needs to choose an adequate means of conveying it. How we convey a message is directly related to how the viewer/receiver/audience reacts(the emotion it evokes-any of the Navarasas) and then responds to it.

The Indian perception of Ideal beauty in women The words ‘tall’, ‘fair’, ‘slim’, ‘educated’… the socalled pre-requisites of a perfect Indian woman have come about due to various factors. Colonial rule has brought about an unwritten rule amongst the masses that fair complexion is better than a dark one. The media and advertisements with their unbelievably slim models, play on the viewers psyche. From Barbie dolls to movie heroines, everything is tailored to fit the image already built up. This forms the groundbase for a young male seeking a prospective bride. We have played upon all these clichés to evoke ‘Hasya rasa’ and also elicit a reaction to this notion of beauty prevalent amongst us, through the rasa.

Why Hasya Rasa? All emotions eventually become impressions(Samskara), which exist subconsciously in the mind, and which are later reproduced as memory(Smriti). Krodha(anger), Soka(sorrow), Jugupsa(disgust) are negative emotions. They consume energy and weaken one. The feelings of the emotion itself often override the intended message. As opposed to this, Hasa(laughter) is a positive emotion, it is desirable. One is willing to recall these memories over time. And with every recall, the message is conveyed subconsciously and consciously.

FAIR

India, fairness creams are almost a phenomenon. The advertisements
for these products show dark women becoming successful(in terms of career/marriage) once they become fair skinned. Fairness is associated with confidence and equated with success. Which family would not want to have a fair daughter-in-law?
This visual borrows from the Indian education charts. It is a play on the claim made by most fairness creams- ‘Beauty. In six weeks”.

MUST MANAGE WORK & HOME

A good wife is expected to attend to all the members of the household. In today’s
context , where most women call themselves “working women”, this still holds true.
Despite the fact that she puts in office hours during the day, she is expected to be the
perfect homemaker + mother + wife before she goes for work and after.
The visual is a play on the concept of the Mother Goddess in Hinduism. Armed
with many hands, She can handle more than any man can. All the while with a
smile on her face. The images are again borrowed from Indian education charts.

(I haven't uploaded the other 4 illustrations here, as we did 2 each. Meanwhile, I jump-cut to conclusion)

The Rasa theory was a theory originally intended for classical and high art. Applying it to a designed product which is governed by many more parameters than aesthetics alone, it certainly plays a significant role but might not be the sole guiding principle on which the product functions.
For a work of art or theatre– even extending to the rasa model into literature, poetry for instance– the emotional qualities are suggested primarily through characters and their actions within a framework of a narrative and a host of other devices such as figures of speech, rhythm
and rhyme etc. thus objectifying the emotion to make it universal and accessible to everyone in the audience. Translating this to a design object/ product/ piece of communication, it then becomes an autonomous activity, for the manifestation of the emotion lasts as long as the tasting of the vibhaav or the cause/ determinant of the emotion does. The anubhaav or the indicators to register the emotion portrayed will consequently be underplayed and distilled to figures of speech or literary devices that work within the framework of the print medium, being less interactive than theatre or dance.

The assumption in our case, was that the audience was well acquainted with the matrimonials section appearing in newspapers and online portals (though a satire/ pun on it distorts the original purpose for which they were used) and familiar with the Indian Mythological scenario.
We launch on a familiar narrative-The underlying subversive icon of the Heroine’s Journey, illustrated in a series of visuals to create that sense of irony in a compact, condensed message.

FIN

2008-09-16T10:00:00.000-07:00

Today was my last official day as a member of the Filmclub managing committee. As the only 'non-moving image' student who stood for the three vacant posts, I hardly expected to be elected. Why did I stand even?

This is what I'd sent as my nomination.

Hi,
I'd like to nominate myself for film club. After a
year of laserec, I've realised, I enjoy screening films,
promoting it, getting people to watch.
Although laserec is more about commercial films,
I'd love to screen films the 'filmclub"way.

The culture in NID is changing. People choose work
over a screening, or a submission over making a
poster. I want to try and get people more involved in
this.. and maybe it will have an effect on life at NID in
general.

Please do accept my nomination.

Thank You.

Shreyas.R.Krishnan
Graphic Design, semester 5 , GDPD

Seems so long ago.Anything I do, I seem to do, to make a change. I hope I have changed somethings at Filmclub, for the good. It will be weird sitting on the other side of the fence...almost like watching a flashback in Tamil serials (minus the byootiful "yeffects" with a change of characters ofcourse)

As always, all good things must come to an end. Lets see what else comes around for me to throw myself into :)

FIN

Arshia

2008-08-13T04:16:00.000-07:00

We had a course on Narratives with Arshia Sattar a few weeks ago. Loved it. Made up for a couple of messed up SLAs.

I still have to post this to her.

other side of the fence

2008-08-12T08:44:00.000-07:00

Today I found out what it's like not to be an underdog.
Hmm.

Tag-ged

2008-08-06T04:25:00.000-07:00

Ok, after many years of somehow having avoided getting tagged, I've finally been caught. By Kavita. Ok so,it’s a game of blog tag. Where bloggers tag fellow bloggers with an assignment, and the blogger then has to tag someone else.

The house rules:
* Each person tagged has to write random facts/habits about themselves.
* Those that are tagged will have to write a post on their own blog (about their twelve things)
* At the end of your blog, you need to choose two other people to get tagged and list their names.
* Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

My 12 thingies

1. I HATE BUTTERFLIES. And moths. They creep me out.Especially the big black and multicoloured ones that people find "so pwetty!".
2. I like eating raw oats. straight from the dabba.
3. I pull at my hair when I'm thinking. Also to prove to Apu that my nose won't grow longer in the process.
4. When I was in 2nd standard, I wanted to be a Chief Chef.
5. To set the record straight, my cooking skills are restricted to food that comes in packets and needs to be dunked in hot water.
6. For some reason, I used to think ladybirds were mutated ants.
7. I drink chocolate horlicks everyday.
8. I pick up matchboxes off roads.
9. I'm topographically challenged.
10. I like sniffing at coffee powder. I don't like drinking coffee though.
11. I miss reading in the loo.
12. I used to read STATUTORY WARNING as STATIONARY WARNING. Till I was 16 years old.

:D :D :D

THERE. Im done.
NOW...
I tag vaishu and priyankar.

Junuka

2008-08-04T13:42:00.000-07:00

Spring cleaning. found junuka.

ju-nu-ka
three steps
with anklets
a pot
dunked in water

ju
nu
ka

(i love her name. Its beeyootifoool)

Its been a while

2008-06-09T22:19:00.000-07:00

Doodles from my room and at work.
Bangalore.

back home

2008-04-25T10:42:00.000-07:00

Im back home. Im getting bored. Im starting to wonder if I really am a workaholic.

I ought to be doing some illustrations for a certain project, so I thought I'd sketch a little to get back into drawing mode. Pulled out my bamboo!

This one is still incomplete, owing to the wierd position I was sitting in while drawing this, and because I had to go out on an errand. Did I mention, the perspective's all warped?

bam-boo!!!!!!!!

2008-03-28T07:51:00.000-07:00

i bought a bamboo!!!

my first attempt at bambooing--merryn sleeping.

and yes, I mean what i said about her mallu.

Oharu

2008-03-27T08:08:00.000-07:00

For today's screening, "The life of Oharu", by Kenzi Mizoguchi.

I'm tripping on japanese.
tow-tah-lee.

photo ink, fabric paint, black rotring, quink.
The collar and waistband of the kimono is supposed to be gold. The background is a mix of copper and metallic red and black ink.

Ai no corrida

2008-03-26T14:55:00.000-07:00

An illustration for the film 'In the Realm of the Senses' (Ai No Corrida) by Nagisa Oshima. This was part of Filmclub's New Wave screenings this month.

marker, poster paint, akhila's white rotring, red ball pen

2008-03-19T06:47:00.001-07:00

Puppet show at Ganesh Chaturti, NID, 2007

Nothing seems to happen on campus these days... :P

Gabbeh

2008-03-12T09:27:00.000-07:00

A quick poster for GABBEH, a film by Mohsen Makhmalbaf, for tuesday's Filmclub screening. Feels almost Klimt-like if you view it from a distance.
size:A4

Whattey Life Story

2008-03-05T08:24:00.000-08:00

An assignment for Science and Liberal Arts: VISUAL NARRATIVES. "Write your life story highlighting what you consider to be the milestones in your life".
Mine as you can see is nowhere close to being finished.

--------------------------------------------------- Whattey is an unusual word. It looks very English, sounds slightly English..Yet that Little Voice at the back of your head refuses to accept it as part of the language. On rare occasions , the Little Voice that oh-so-rudely snaps us out of unspeakable fantasies and cruel plans to take over the world and sends us on guilt trips small issues like polishing off an entire bar of Dairymilk and well..just acts plain annoying, actually makes a fraction of sense sometimes. The Little Voice, my good person, is right.
Whattey is not English.
Its Yingleesh.

To understand the true significance of this word, we must undertake an arduous journey to South India. Why arduous, you ask? Unfortunately this is also a journey back in time, and so Spice Jet does not exist as yet and neither does dirt cheap air tickets. Never mind the fact that the ride resembles a fast forwarded auto ride.

But yes, back to our journey. The south of India or South India, consists of four states-Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. The first two of these four speak too much Hindi for any self respectable South Indian state. We shall not be venturing that side. We will instead stick out our Dairymilk covered tongues out at them and say "phbbt".

Of the remaining two states, no such elimination criteria, as in the above case, exists. Hence, we will have to resort to the most scientific selection technique ever know to mankind.

"Inky pinky ponky
father had a Donkey
donkey died
father cried
Inky pinky ponky"

Ah, Tamil Nadu it is. Here we zoom into its capital Madras, famed for its murder of the Tamil language. It isn't any ordinary murder though. It is long drawn, painful and continues for many many years. During this time many words are created that will eventually become common slang. One such word is whattey.
Normally spoken it would sound like "what a". Combine it with the Tamil accent and a penchant for slang and tada! whattey is born.

Around the same time, somewhere in the depths of Isabelle hospital, a Shreyas is born. Unlike common misconception may lead you to believe, the Shreyas in question-our protagonist-is NOT a hero. She is the HEROINE of the story.

Whattey start i say.

***

Savithri, as she was called before she became Mrs. Ravikrishnan, married K.V.Ravikrishnan on the tenth of June in the year nineteen eighty four.

I am confident that non-south Indian readers are quite puzzled by the two alphabets that very ceremoniously precede the groom's name. South Indians have a habit of using initials before and/or after and/or in between their names and a way of identifying the place of birth and/or the father's name.
Hence K.V stands for KALLIDAIKURICHI VENKATESHWARAN.
Wishing you'd never asked aren't you.
Ha.

Although the wedding happened as early as 1984, Shreyas, as their first daughter was to be called, was born only as late as 1988. Shreyas was due sometime in the beginning of January '88.

At this point we introduce the McGuffin-an Umbilical Cord with a Confused Identity. UC thought it was the Star Lasso in The good, the bad and the ugly. And ugly it was. Our protagonist was caught with Star Lasso around herlittle neck for a while before doc dearest realised that Shreyas was late for a very important date. Alarm bells rang and Savithri's stomach waws slit open to rescue our damsel in distress. If only freshly delivered babies could see, Shreyas would have probably had a vision of Super Doc, complete with blue aerobics suit and red chaddis.

And so Shreyas(FINALLY) came into the world on January twenty eighth, a day after her mother's birthday. A nice gift eh? slit open belly and all.

The child grew up on stories(mythology, Childcraft..the works), advertisements and movies.

Shreyas had but one problem...

...Eating.

Getting Shreyas to eat was easier said than done. If she was fed, she'd sit with a mouthful of food and chew on it on one side of her mouth. A stern look from the Feeder and a "Swallow!" would only result in the Fed lazily shifting the food from one side of her mouth to the other. Come hell, highwater or horror of horrors! - the end of the lunch break, Shreyas would NOT swallow the food unless it was chewed, re-chewed, cud chewed and all other possible variations of mastication were done.

Thus, it came to be that Shreyas NEVER once finished her lunch during the lunch period. Her friends would finish their lunches, each others' lunches, rush off to the ground to play and sprint back to class at the stroke of the bell. At which point they would find our heroine with her half eaten lunch. If they were lucky. Indeed, when she went to her friends' homes, the Mothers learnt that making Shreyas sit down to eat an hour before everyone else started, ensured that she would finish atleast a half hour after everyone was done.

One would assume, and it is only natural that one does, that after the amount of exercise that Shreyas's mouth received, her teeth would be pearly, white and strong enough to pull a truck and set a Guinness record or make it to the Limca book of records at least. Forgive the digression, but... Ever heard of this poem?

"There was a crooked man
He walked a crooked mile
He found a crooked six pence
upon a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat
which caught a crooked mouse.
And they all lived together
in a crooked little house."

...Well Shreyas's teeth can be added to that poem. They were so crooked that they seemed to defy all laws of natural growth. Savithri and Ravikrishnan, in their quest to be good parents, took a decision that would stick with Shreyas for most of her teenage life. She had to get braces. permanent braces.

Shreyas became the first 10 year old in her batch to have metal fixtures in her repairable dental apparatus. This irked her quite a bit, it restricted her eating options and the quantity of food that went into her mouth each time.

--------------------------------------------------------- *Author's note: someone get me to write more!! applying for internships and sending serious politically correct emails has slightly killed my sense of humour. HALP!
--------------------------------------------------------------
image-> artwork by Shreyas. Fabric paint on collage from cut up bangle boxes. For more of my work.

Past perfect

2008-02-12T09:20:00.000-08:00

As I type this Urmi, Vaidehi and Amruta are emptying out their lockers. Vinu left in the afternoon for his dip. There was a big crowd of people to bye-bye him. Sagarika and Madhura left a couple of weeks ago.

One year from now (if I'm 'on time'), I'll have to empty out my locker- my legitimate one and the 'illegitimate' many. When I joined NID, 4th year seemed like the distant future. Now that distant future is becoming the present, a lot faster than I'd hoped. It's scary.

The phase where I'd miss all those people who have left won't last too long. Facebook/orkut/gtalk/skype take care of that. No, the reason why I'm presently experiencing 'wierdness' is because I'm faced with reality. Whoever said reality bites was making an understatement.

Akhila's mum said "NIDians have trouble cutting off the umbilical cord". Its true. I can't see myself outside NID. Its not a good thing, but that's how it is. I never missed school or even home as much as I miss this place when I'm not here. I guess that is why there are always ex-nidians who come back here to teach.

What makes us stay/come back?

The Great Panipuri Expedition

2008-02-02T22:25:00.000-08:00

This is something I wrote for a DCC assignment in 2006. DCC or design concepts and concerns is a course that one goes through in foundation(frst year) at NID. This excercise involved us going out and studying roadside "businesses" and preparing a business model for them. Each group covered different things- bhajiwalas, omlette-walas, gola-walas, panipuri-walas and more.

read on.

****
THE GREAT PANIPURI EXPEDITION

It was a hot day and people were dozing off in class.To be honest the only thing that kept me sort of awake was the fear that I would be photographed when i was floating away in dreamland. I was pulled out of my blissful state on hearing the word 'ASSIGNMENT'. I had alarm bells ringing in my head.."huh?what assignment?but I'm too sleepy!"..And then Ranjan said the other magic word-"outside". Woohoo...we had to go out for the assignment AND we had the weekend for it. Translation- Sleep now work later. I made my way to my group to find out what exactly the assignment was. We had to make a business model for the panipuri business. Panipuri shops open only in the evenings.Life couldn't get any better. It was too easy.

I mean, how difficult is it to make a panipuri anyways? Make a hole in the puri, stuff some aaloo inside, fill it up with khatta or meeta pani and shove it into your mouth.As simple as that.

Yeah right.

I found out how wrong I was. It was the next morning at the studio. We were all furiously working to make our sfs submissions. Rashmi and Dimple were quite dismayed to see us all still in the insti.

Rashmi came upto our group and said-"oh, you got panipuriwalas. But why are u still here?Go out and see the panipuriwalas at work!"
"But they don't open till 5pm"
Rashmi-"You guys should have gone out at 5am and seen them preparing for the evening"

Now, I'm quite slow in the head towards the end of the week, especially if I'm trying to finish last minute stuff for submission. And what Rashmi said just completely confused an-already-spaced-out me. Why on earth would they start preparing twelve hours earlier? Its a panipuri for God's sake!
But nevertheless we went. We left at 3pm to look for panipuriwalas. We managed to find one in his house. And THEN i found out why they need twelve hours..

I always thought those guys BUY the puris and sell them off at their laaris.But NO..they MAKE them. Two thousand five hundred a day on average. They actually make the damn things!! The panipuriwalas are up from 4am preparing for the evening. Would anyone ever dream that these guys start working before sunrise and keep going till after sunset?

There are a lot of things to do before actually taking the cart out onto the roads and selling panipuri. Puris have to be made, potato and channa have to be boiled, chutney has to be ground and the pani has to be mixed.

The puri making takes up most of the day. Around five kilos of atta is used. The dough is made and really small balls are made at an amazing speed. Oil is spread on them. They are then flattened into tiny chappathis. This is done either with a roller or by machine. When all the puris are done, they are fried. While the puri preparation is going on, the potatoes are boiled. The puris are fried around 1.30pm. The laaris are loaded and the men leave at 4pm to their respective locations and set up shop. They normally stay there till 10pm or so and return home.

As everywhere, the panipuriwalas face problems from the AMC and the police. This was evident from the fact that they were quite reluctant to talk about them. A license is required for selling panipuri on the roads. This license allows the men to stay only in the lanes. But when they come out onto the main roads they face the risk of having their carts taken away by the police. The carts are either purchased(Rs5000- Rs.15000) or rented(Rs.20 a day). Each day's investment depends on the previous days earnings.

The panipuriwalas seemed secretive when talking about their profession. While some of them agreed to talk with us, the rest tried to avoid questions or lied to us about certain things. One man said he made a profit of only Rs.80 a day. But on the contrary when we calculated we found that panipuriwalas make quite a bundle everyday. On an average they earn about Rs.800-Rs1200 a day.
Many of them actually thought we were from the tax department and that we were going to conduct a raid on them! Now in this respect, I think they were being overly paranoid. Nidans are easily recognised anywhere by Amdavadis. Like we have a stamp on our heads or something. Some people say its our clothes(ripped jeans, cut up t-shirts, oversized kurtas, oshos and jholas). After 6 months of having people point at me and say "NID!nid!" to each other, i was quite surprised that the panipuriwalas actually thought we were officials of some sort!!I mean..come on, do I look like one?

There are panipuris and there are panipuris.
Some panipuris are bad. Some are good. And some are excellent.

The panipuriwala outside Agashiye has got to be the best panipuriwala here.They are EXTREMELY hygienic and the puris are damn tasty. They don't mash the potatoes-its all chopped up. The channa and the aaloo are added separately, they aren't mixed. The puris aren't dipped in the water. They use a special ladle for filing up water in the puris. And the meeta pani...I could actually taste jaggery in it. And it costs the same five Rupees.

But then there are panipuriwalas who sell substandard stuff. There's a guy in Vastrapur who sells such panipuris. The meeta pani was an unearthly shade of orange and the khatta pani was equally gruesome looking. I fell ill after eating at his shop. Interestingly, when we asked him if he ate the panipuris that he made, he said -"no.I don't like panipuri"..He probably got grossed out by his own food.

At the end of one weekend of hogging panipuris and falling sick and hogging some more, I can proudly say that I have got a better understanding of the business. Its not as easy as it seems to be. Handling ten customers, each with a specification for the puri, is not easy. But they do it. They enjoy their profession. Which is what matters in the end.

Shreyas R Krishnan
Foundation (batch 2005)
2006
NID

****
Dimple Soni and Rashmi Korjan were the faculty who took DCC along with MP Ranjan.

Being photographed in class---thats how Ranjan takes attendance, and knows whether you've been paying attention in class. He clicks pictures of the class while talking. Simple no?

Treasures

2008-02-02T13:02:00.001-08:00

Bought these from the guy who sells 'junk' outside NID. :)

And these are really nice... My roomie got back from a trip to Europe. She got this set of chocolates...VAN GOGH chocolates. These are a couple of wrappers that she gave me.

Van Gogh's Sunflowers

Van Gogh's The pink peach tree

How come junk isn't as tish in India?

The Kyoorius Diary

2008-01-31T20:54:00.001-08:00

The Kyoorius Design Yaatra has been happening since last year. Like last time, this year too it was at Goa. Why Goa I wonder? At the Yaatra, it just seems like everyone is on holiday. The primary attractions are firang speakers, free booze, the Gala dinner and Goa itself.

I'd been to the 2006 Yaatra as well. This time I started putting down all my thoughts during the conference. Not before, not after, but while I was inside the venue.

Im tempted to include extracts from the notebook here, but its a lot more fun reading it from the actual pages. But since blogger doesn't seem to show a bigger image even on full view go here--> The Kyoorius Diary, for a readable view of the book. :)

Click on image for full view

2 x 10

2008-01-30T08:20:00.001-08:00

This is it.
Its been 2 days since I turned 20.

What better time to start posting on my OWN blog! Yes well, it is common knowledge that my dashboard has too many blogs for my own good, and that I'v posted things on the wrong blog by mistake...BUT... this is M.I.N.E!

Buwahahahahahaha!