A Bend in the Lane

Rice was ranked the “ Coolest College in the Land” by Seventeen magazine in 2002 (cite) . Them teenage anorexic girls should know a thing or two about being cool. Dr Malcolm Gillis, our then president, declared on that day, “If people insist on calling us cool, then maybe we should act the part. At least part of the time.” He asked all Owls (Rice students) to wear shades both inside and outside for a week or two as badges of coolness. So asking, he fished out his shades from his blazer and put ‘em on. (This explains my wearing-shades-inside-buildings habit) A huge part of the reason why Rice is cool, is most definitely the Jacks during Willy Week. You can refer to Wikipedia here . Let me copy & paste the relevant section: "Jack" is the Rice term for a prank, often an elaborate one. A simple jack might be replacing "you are here" campus map with a map of an amusement park. A well-known jack in the 1980s was "stacking" a commons, in whic...

Things I Want to do Right Now Cliff jumping – into a water body of course Run wild in the moors on Isle of Skye Live in good old Bodlein for a month Go to a hotel, and pull out all the “Do Not Disturb” signs. Make prank calls Become a vegetable hawker in India Switch off the phone Break into a dance in the streets Hop and skip everywhere instead of walking Skinny dipping Hay riding

I had forgotten how enraged I was when I first learnt about Wounded Knee. I am writing to remember. Wounded Knee, 1890 - the last of the Indian Wars. Old Big Foot's pneumonia ravaged body ridden with bullets. Sitting Bull already murdered. The Ghost Dance movement more or less in shambles. Mass grave of 350 Lakota Sioux at the foot of the Wounded Knee hill. The fall of a crumbling nation. How maddeningly infuriating it is to have the faces on Mt Rushmore, faces that represent the institution that massacred the Lacota Sioux, towering over their very own land. I cant wait for the completion of the Crazy Horse monument. A fitting, long overdue reply. Perhaps only symbolic. But it is something.

Think happy thoughts Harika! The tang of blueberry marmalade on sour dough pancakes, dripping with salty butter reminds me of the evening when I walked up to a 4o something man at IHOP (International House of Pancakes) and said, “Hi, My name is Harika and I was wondering whether you could marry me?” Without a batting an eyelid, without a pause, he asked me, “When and where?” I was mortified. While the group of rogues I was dining with in the IHOP dissolved into raucous laughter, hooting and clapping. I fled back to the table to punch a couple of noses and refused to continue playing the silly game of Truth or Dare. While leaving, the man gave me a friendly Texan wink. America is full of cool people like that.

I refuse to watch tragedies for a while. There is enough tragedy in world without having to buy my own tears.

Mediocrity In thought and deed, in humor and tragedy, in love and enmity, in life and death. It is terrifying.