‘The Silent Monument’ book launch in Mumbai

Let the splendor of the diamond, pearl and ruby vanish like the magic shimmer of the rainbow. Only let this one teardrop, the Taj Mahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time… -

-Rabindranath Tagore

Weird science

Recently I read a riveting article about cuts. It said that plastics ‘bleed’ when cut or scratched and then heal like human skin. Can you believe that?!

I was jaw-droppingly amazed. But it’s true. Last month, in San Diego, at the 243^rd National Meeting & Exposition of the American Chemical Society (ACS), the team’s lead researcher described plastics that mimic human skin’s ability to heal. This could mean that eventually daily devices will have self-repairing surfaces. Just as Mother Nature has blessed biological organisms to repair themselves, so phones, laptops, cars or any other product can change colour to warn of scratches and cuts, then heal themselves when exposed to light, using this fascinating new technology.

And I said to myself, hmmm… now how do I apply this fantastic science fact in my next plot? I’m a ‘digital immigrant’, as in I was not born into this techno-era but am trained to live with it. The young ‘uns take to technology like it was second skin and for them a tablet is not a pill. For me it takes time to adjust. For example, using more than two remotes to switch on the television and watch a recorded show is like an obstacle course. For my benefit, typed instructions are stuck to the back of each remote.  Sometimes, I get so frustrated that I avoid the technology altogether and just pick up a book (the tree version) and read.

So, writing a plot with a hint of hi-tech or sci-fi does give me the jitters although I am fascinated with it. Still I shall persevere, and push my limits of understanding (still can’t figure out how to watch tv with two remotes, but never mind).For my next plot I was considering a cyborg as my protagonist, and the bad guy would be an evil blob of intelligent green slime. But how do you kill slime? But there’s always a way and eventually, the cyborg will kill it using age-old Freudian-inspired attacks, which successfully turn the slime into a trembling mass with no sense of self-worth and no willpower to defend itself. I might have to think through this plot a bit more…

Just like we’ll soon have self-healing plastic, here are some strange scientific gizmos that exist:

1.  Metal detecting sandals: Footwear with wires connected to a small box which you will have to attach to your leg. It will buzz if one steps close to a metal object. I intend to use this on a treasure hunt trip to ancient sites in India.

2.  A security door chain: It’s a puzzle attached to the door, and if you want to unhinge the chain you have to push it through a maze. This will cause much irritation to the person waiting outside your home. It will discourage unwelcome guests, and add pleasure to your day as you complete a maze each time you open the door.

3.  The anti-gravity platform:  This is one of the more impressive gizmos around. All you need to do is put an object that does not exceed 85 grams on the platform. Imagine the fun you could have with your pet turtle, watch it levitate and rotate.

4.  The Armstar  Bodyguard: It looks like a severed robotic limb, but it’s actually a version of Batman’s weapon arm. It will come in handy for simulating action scenes. Especially since it comes with a stun gun, video camera, and a flashlight. Oh and did I mention the stun gun? It’s the real deal, with a power jolt of 300,000 volts. Exciting times ahead.

5.  The 3-D copy machine: Bury a small stool inside a box of sand.  A few minutes later you pull out a full-size chair. The copy machine consists of self-sculpting smart pebbles made of magnets, which communicate with each other.  Maybe I should bury a tiny diamond and see what will happen… hmm, treasure hunting begins!

More weird inventions here http://www.inventionreaction.com

And strange science news here http://www.sciencedaily.com/

Babies possess the most amazing power

It is with great relief that I’m putting my manuscript aside to incubate. For the last few months, the wild characters had been buzzing in my head like crazy. No matter what I did, they wouldn’t let me go. Whether it was dancing, singing, cooking, or generally staring into space (I do all those things to distract myself from those fictional characters), they would suddenly interrupt my task and remind me of a plot hole. And there I would go, frantically jotting down ways to plug the holes or alternatively, I would totally sink into panic mode.

Anyway, something wonderful happened to me that helped me escape from those frenetic fictional fanatics. It was on one of my regular commutes to and from my workplace. But first an interesting question…

What is it about babies that make scowling adults go googoo-gaga?

The most obvious one is that babies top the scales in the cuteness factor.

I was witness to just such an experience on the underground metro. On that particular Monday morning, the expressions of most commuters matched the gloomy cloudy day. I followed the milieu into the train, sat down, and settled into silent observer mode. People-watching is a habit, not necessarily a good one, but I tend to fall into that zone when surrounded by strangers.

While the travellers fished out their mobile devices, or stared blankly at the adverts, I pulled out a dog-eared Reader’s Digest and pretended to read, and surreptitiously people watched. Some of them were watching me back, which is good, because then I smile at myself, and then sometimes they turn away thinking I’m mad, or they smile too. We humans mirror each other. I read somewhere that it is in our genes to bond instinctively through our expressions, and positive ones are ideal.

 I’ve enjoyed doing this since I was a kid: observing people in public places, whether diners at a restaurant, or shoppers, or commuters, it’s fun trying to guess relationships, attitudes, and personality types through watching their interactions or their actions when alone.

Anyway, I digress – back to my experience on the metro. The train was filling up at each station. A few commuters trudged in as if carrying a heavy load. Some others were glum and lost in the content of their gadgets. My magazine was proving to be more interesting than the gloomy faces.

Then suddenly, things changed.

At a particular stop, a mother with her toddler in a stroller entered the train. As if by magic, the dull atmosphere transformed. It started with the stern, irritable-looking gentleman who carried the world’s weight on his shoulders. Unexpectedly, Mr Stern got up to offer his seat to the mother. She accepted gratefully. Her baby was a chubby cute little ball of energy. He gurgled happily, drooling and speaking gibberish. Two more passengers turned their attention to the friendly child. An old woman clapped her hands at the little one and the baby beamed happily trying to clap. Mr Stern’s face broke into a wide smile.

Wow, what a breakthrough, I thought. I couldn’t help but laugh. As I stood watching, yet another passenger, Ms Prim, offered her hand to the little boy. The toddler grabbed her finger with his pudgy hands and offered her a cackling grin.

I gaped as suddenly all eight passengers were talking to the baby in silly voices, (yes I joined in) just to be rewarded with that drooling grin. Mr Stern had lost his stiff suit attitude. He made goofy facial expressions hoping to elicit more cute gurgling laughter from the tot. This made others laugh too.

For three stops, our carriage was focussed on the tiny little being. Nothing else mattered, except making that baby laugh. Everyone was smiling; there were no worried faces, or frowns, or distracted looks. Problems were temporarily forgotten. And at each stop, as passengers left and waved goodbye, I noticed that they moved with a lighter step, with a smile, and probably they would look forward to the rest of their day and carry that ‘baby lightness’ with them.

Everyday we wake up to the knowledge that challenges await us. There are issues to deal with and problems to be solved. And whether we face the strife with positive grit or with bitterness, there are some arresting moments in our day that give us pause, that help us take a step back and say, ‘hey, I can handle it’ simply because for those few moments we were able to mirror the pure ecstatic joy of a perfect existence in a baby’s face.

By the way, it does help that the characters from my book have stopped their buzz, and I can take a break from their drama. And return to people-watching without any interruptions.

Picture courtesy: http://www.ranker.com/pics/L312375/laughing-babies

 

Enter the Dragon, Roaring

The good thing about celebrating the New Year twice is that you get to start over especially if you perfectly messed up the first start of the year. We’ve just entered the dragon year and truth be told, I messed up the first entry into 2012 so I’m glad I get to try again.

The 31^st of December of 2011 was terrifying as it inched into 2012, because I was in the midst of a Japanese horror movie. At midnight, I was clinging to my better half for dear life. He tried to disengage my claw-like grip so we could greet 2012, and answer new year greeting phone calls.

I eventually let go of him and kept up a happy face while inside I trembled at the memory of the ghostly woman with long dark hair and a creepy smile.

The terror continued for days into the new year. Eek! She could be just round the corner. In the bathroom brushing my teeth, I constantly looked over my shoulder in case she rose out of the bathtub. When the shower curtain was drawn, I swore I could see a dark human shape. Eek! I heard a sound in the kitchen.

Speed has never been my strong point, but for two weeks after watching the horror flick I was sprinting about like my pants were on fire. And the worst part of it all was that I couldn’t write. I was constantly distracted by visions of the scary ghost. There was no creativity, just this huge block.

So when the year of the dragon came around, with all its heroic drumbeats of the lion dance, I was keen to get over the fear. I was ready to focus on my goal of being a courageous writer.

I stuck a scary dragon face on my monitor to remind me to be fearless. Then I placed post-it notes warning me to keep writing or the evil ghost from the Japanese horror movie would come and stand over my shoulder. Of course, it got me to glance over my left shoulder to make sure no one was there. Occasionally, I felt a fingernail grazing the back of my neck. Gritting my teeth I ignored my leaping pulse, and instead returned my attention to my work – getting on with it, like a courageous dragon.

In addition I bought a tin of high impact coffee to keep me going for at least two hours at a stretch. To keep up the pace, I had the Mission Impossible theme music playing in the background. And then after all that, to make sure I stayed on the task at hand, I kept the internet disconnected (I was almost in tears with that sacrifice). My fingers are kind of bloated and blue but I’ve churned out 6k words in less than a week. Not a bad start. And it’s proof that the Dragon year has motivated me.

Power up in 2012

In Chinese astrology the dragon is the only animal of the Chinese zodiac year that is not a real animal. The dragon was seen as a powerful almighty king and considered a symbol of power and courage.

For The Year of the Dragon I’ve created a few of my own dragon writer rules:-

1. Write, write, write. You simply have to get the twenty pages done by the end of the day. By hook or by crook. Be determined and headstrong like the dragon.
2. Read everything. Anything from a fluffy hot romance to the Time magazine. Every piece of writing is a story. A story that will trigger a nerve in you. Then the creative fire will erupt from your dragon self.
3. Don’t overthink things. Yes, you have to get your plot outline before you write, but when you are in the zone hitting the keys, don’t stop yourself and say oh no, it’s not going according to plan. Screw the plan. Go with the dragon flow.
4. Connect. With people, with your job, with your kitchen, garden, with strangers, with animals. A smile, a frown, an attitude. The reaction is what counts. It will make your characters come alive, leap out at you. Even though they are as fictional as the mythical dragon.
5. Every waking moment, reflect on your plot and on your characters, let them move swiftly through your mind. Be free spirited, passionate, flexible, brave and enterprising. In short, be like the dragon.

Picture courtesy: http://www.muteplanet.com/Mute_Planet/Welcome.html

The Storage Box

Season's Greetings

There is a storage box that I hardly ever open. For ten years I have let it sit silently in a cabinet. A few times, I have attempted to take out that box, but ended up slamming it shut because of my overwhelming emotional response. When I see the contents, I face a riot of feelings like remorse and regret, and sometimes I feel god awful and reach for chocolate – the expensive kind. The contents of that storage box are a symbol of my carelessness and my disrespect to the old days. I could write a heartfelt poem but don’t know how to express myself in poetry. See previous blog post.

No, this box does not contain old photos of me in a frilly dress, nor sinful collections of touristy trinkets. Or naked muscled men. No there is nothing that I am ashamed of, well kind of….

Okay, I will tell you what it is.

(inhales lungful of breath) They contain greeting cards, mostly the seasonal variety. There, I said it. No don’t laugh, I’m serious. I love stationery and I love it when it comes in the mail for free…not exactly free…I send money to the charitable organisations that send me these lovely greeting cards as thanks.

Every year, I promise myself that I would write personal messages to people and mail them out. November came and went. Then we reach the later part of December and suddenly I realise, oh no, I forgot to mail the Christmas greetings to friends in Europe andAmerica. And then I think maybe next year.

And those cards have remained as remnants of a past. Like clues of a bygone era, I have failed to do justice to their presence. Nowadays, people use the quickest method of sending wishes – e-greetings. And I am guilty of the same. Those cards should have been mailed to loved ones, friends and foes way back when the internet was still a dial-up connection. I clutch my heart morosely. And bang the lid back on the box. The image persists and self-critical remarks drain me. I usually recycle paper, but I can’t bring myself to discard these little cards with positive messages. So they are going to sit there forever. No, I will not shred them with my paper shredder (although there is a certain kind of pleasure I get when I use the machine and watch whole sheets of paper turn into slivers). I once thought of snipping out the artwork and using them as tree decorations, but Chloe, who is a dear friend, sharp dresser and interior designer asked me point-blank, ‘Are you insulting your creativity?’

‘Then what, what should I do?’ I asked glumly.

She held my hands in a strong grip and hypnotised me with her deeply mascara-ed eyes. Then she whispered: ‘Let it be. Leave it there. Seal that box, mark it DO NOT TOUCH. HAZARDOUS. Make sure no one opens it. We shall keep this secret till our dying day.’

‘Nooo,’ I lament, pushing her away. ‘Those beautiful little things, full of love and hope and good wishes. How can I leave them to rot. Noooo, I must use them.’

‘For a woman who writes about secrets that must remain hidden, you’re not very good at hiding things yourself,’ she said accusingly. She sighed and put her hand on my shoulder. ‘Still, you are my good friend and I shall think of a solution.’

‘Thank you, thank you.’ I gushed.

So the other day she brought out her camera and took pictures of the cards. Then she used them as e-greetings. That didn’t really solve the problem but at least the cards were used in an ingenious way. This Christmas and New Year is covered. I will reconsider the joyous greetings next year. For now, I have duct taped the box.

To all those who read my blog, and those who are passing through:

Thank you for reading my posts. And thank you for your comments and your responses. Glad to have made new friends. Please continue sharing your thoughts. Have a fabulous 2012 )

Happy Holidays!

Happy 2012

Wishes for a fantastic year!

Lunar Lunacies

Last week I watched the Eclipse. No, not the movie, the real deal. I was hoping for the fear factor to be a notch higher than the fictitious version, expected an added impact – as it was, the  moon would be full and red as well. I anticipated a couple of werewolves, maybe a witch or two cackling as they flit on their broomsticks across the crimson moon. Every conspiracy theorist lives in the hope of the woo-hoo factor cropping up in reality. To witness vampires coming to life while the reddish moon hung ominously from the dark sky: it was an opportunity too good to pass up.

The planets lined up after ten pm for about half-an-hour. It was magical and breathtaking. A gazillion story ideas buzzed around in my head. But after much staring through my binoculars, I saw no bat-like humanoids flit across, no witches on broomsticks and not even any reptilian beings emerging from the lunar surface. The most I got out of the experience was a crick in the neck and a feeling of frustration.  I was staring at the red moon through the sunroof of my car. And no, I wasn’t driving, a family member volunteered so that I could indulge in my moon myth badventure. Earlier that day I had soaked up info on ‘top secret’ sites revealing potential bizarre happenings during an eclipse. So I watched with a keen eye – super spies would have been proud of me.

Alas, the moon returned from the colour of dripping blood to waxy white. And in that span of self-induced heart pounding expectations, nothing untoward happened. I was convinced I must have missed something, something the average human eye could not see.

Within the conspiracy universe, there are aliens on the moon. But now I know why I didn’t see them. The answer is so obvious now that I think about it: they were invisible.

Ahh, I sigh in peace.

Lunar eclipse

To debunk some wild stories, science has been pushed to study the effects of the moon on mankind. The research published to date has not always supported the claim that we act loony because of a full moon. And I’ve read quite a few moon myths that people believe in. But the tales persist and over the years, the combination of the lunar eclipse and the full moon has resulted in many legends worth reading.

Six reasons the moon is not just an orbiting body:

1. The term lunatic was derived from the Latin word Luna, meaning moon.
2. Witchcraft and the occult obtain their magical powers  from the full moon.
3. In Europe during the Middle Ages, the term “Transylvania Effect” was used to describe how a full moon could transform people into werewolves or vampires.
4. There is an alien space port on the dark side of the moon. For sure.
5. The human body is about seventy-five percent water. And since the moon affects the ocean’s tides, it must affect the human body as well.
6. The moon is responsible for what we dream about.

So there we have it: Moon magic. It will provide enough fodder to meld truth and fiction.

But for now, I think I will go watch the film Eclipse on the big screen. Something weird is definitely happening there, so it will be a great research opportunity.

Pet Peeves

So halfway through the first draft of my next action thriller, my protag Kim is suffering from an anxiety attack, and has turned ruthlessly violent. She wants to do crazy things like take a ten-gauge shotgun and shoot military personnel. And no one in their right mind would take on the army. Plus, my editor would have a field day with the draft and aim the pen at me. I could not risk it. I had to stop the writing or else suffer the plot with blood and gore, with Kim at the helm. I decided that desperate situations call for desperate measures and the best thing I could come up with was pets. Studies have shown that animal-assisted therapy reduced the anxiety levels of hospitalised psychiatric patients, so I hoped the pet would help calm Kim’s nerves.

I think of a parrot. I had a grey parrot as a child and it was very clever at doing mimicry. While in the balcony, it screeched obscenities and passersby returned the abuse with equal fervour, and stones. The bird had a vivid vocabulary, one that would turn a sailor squeamish.

Verdict: Bad idea for a pet. The bird would be in cahoots with Kim, and she would sport him on her shoulder like a pirate, while the parrot would egg her on in her violent ambitions. No, it would make matters worse.

Then I think of cats. They are independent and small. Maybe, but they are not friendly. Kim is like a cat, not exactly a touchy-feely personality. Oh, and some cats show affection by bringing home dead creatures, like mice or birds.

Verdict: Not a good companion for a woman with a weapon.

Snakes, guinea pigs, a tarantula?! Hmm, none of them is going to work. I could imagine Kim using the creatures as bait or a weapon.

As pets go the obvious choice is a dog. But what kind? I know nothing about dogs nor the right breed for hard nuts like Kim.

All this headache for a fictional character. I have to cool my head. I stroll down to Central and find myself standing in front of the hair salon. An appointment with my stylist is a good idea. Shandala is a health nut, and a petite but strong woman. She wears clogs that increase her height by ten inches at least. She is chatty about her dogs. And in between the conversation gaps when I can only hear the blast of hot air from the industrial strength hairdryer, I generally glean that her dogs are big and eat a lot.

This time I asked her some questions about dog therapy. She looked at my reflection glumly. ‘Yes it is a good idea if you have a happy dog. Lately my dog has been depressed,’ she said. ‘She wakes up in the middle of the night howling and trembling. I took her to the vet, she had a complete check-up including blood tests. And she’s fine. There’s nothing physically wrong with her. She is suffering from stress, the vet said.’

‘So what are you doing about it?’ I asked.

‘The vet suggested valium but I prefer the holistic approach. So I keep track of her diet and cook special dog food. I’ve also started her on homeopathic remedies. After all, you never know what goes into the ready meals at the supermarket.’

‘You think it’s MSG?’ The only intelligent question that came to mind.

‘No! In my house there is no MSG.’ She clip-clopped away and returned with her bag. She pulled out a gadget. It looked like one of those Geiger counters that checks for radiation. ‘I use this all the time. And if there is any MSG in the food it will beep. I take it to restaurants as well.’

‘Wow that’s amazing. I’ll use this in my book,’ I said to her. ‘So what should I do?’ I ask, trying to veer the conversation back to my dilemma, and explain it in more detail.

‘A dog,’ she nods. ‘Definitely a dog. I have a friend who can give you one, and I think she will be perfect for your bad-ass Kim,’ she says. Then she whispers in my ear. And I smile.

I thank Shandala for her ingenious idea and wish her dog good health.

Here’s what I’m planning to get Kim.

 

The perfect pet

http://www.scenicreflections.com/files/shih_tzu_Wallpaper_jt7ml.jpg