I love silk: chiffon, crepe, organza, china, georgette – you name it, I love it. Silk is an odd fabric, almost too delicate for normal handling, sensitive to rain, snow and heat, food elements, dry cleaning, other fabrics, nails, jewelry, and even its own embroidery. And yet, there’s no other fabric that’s quite as elegant or luxurious for a skirt, blouse, dress, scarf or shawl.

It’s natural that I’d love a sari. However, it was only last New Year’s that I would learn how to wrap or tie it on my own. I had just returned from an overdue visit to India, where I had selected several saris. Like language and cooking, it took lessons, from my mother. There are many ways to drape a sari depending on the region. I won’t attempt to list all of them – I leave that to French cultural anthropologist Chantal Boulanger.

I myself am familiar with only two styles, which I have nicknamed “namba” (Tamil for “ours”), the predominant style in the South as well across the subcontinent, and the other mainly worn in the north, “Gujarati” since the first time I had seen it draped that way was amongst my counterparts of Gujarati origin.

There’s only a minor difference between the two: in the South, the “pallu” or the end is draped across the body then over the left shoulder, creating a streamlined fall at the back. And in the North, it is draped over the right shoulder, fanned out across the body, with a pretty, hanging J-shape at the back. The latter style is better suited for saris with extreme embroidery or beadwork. I have worn those the other way, but my left shoulder generally suffers for it. In both styles, the pleats for the skirt part are tucked into the petticoat at the waist.

I don’t find tying a sari very easy or intuitive at all. The first time I attempted it independently, it took multiple tries. I was sweating by the time I’d got into reasonable shape. I still had problems safety pinning the pallu to the blouse.

Furthermore, not all saris are created equally. For georgette silk, the pleats are easier to manage, the pallu is more watery (this is where I’ve had the most success). Saris with a lot of beadwork and embroidery on chiffon can be tricky because of the need to manage a light fabric while the ends keep getting weighed down. Chiffon with less beadwork can be equally as tricky to handle. Heavy silks are well…heavy.

The great part is when the silk gets caught in its own beads and you’re struggling to disentangle it all. Although, it’s even better when figuring out exactly what to do with the slack, since sari tying involves much estimation: of height, pallu length, number of pleats for the “falls” as my mom calls them – probably not the technical term for the pleated skirt part which fans out like flower petals from waist to ankle. What part should one adjust? If there’s not too much slack, usually you can hide it— which is what I do!

The success to tying a sari is all about controlling the pleats with your thumb and index or middle finger. It’s actually tortuous pain. In the Southern style, the pallu is the easier part, particularly as there is a great deal of versatility in how you can drape it – it can be partially pleated, fully pleated and pinned, or left loose for a more informal, sexier look.

But perhaps, versatility is the watchword overall – a sari is an extremely versatile garment. And you never really know what and how works for you and the fabric until you yourself try it out. So, do what I did to supplement my lessons: watch YouTube videos.

You may ask: why even bother? How often do I wear a sari – 5 or 6 times a year at best? It’s October and my 2009 tally will likely conclude at 4. Am I holding onto culture unnecessarily? No. Culture comes and culture goes, but I wear a sari for one predominant reason: because it makes me feel beautiful.

Nilanjana : water.

Vicky : (turning to her) Rohit, water..

Rohit takes a glass and drinks..

Vicky takes the glass and rather than drinking it pours the water right onto her saree.. on her chest.. water splashing just where her clevage would be.. Nilanjana closed her eyes as the chill ran down her body in utter shame… a tear or two dropped along her cheeks raising his hands up and up as the stream of water splashes with more and more force on her womanly mammaries. once glass is empty, Nilanjana’s saree is clinging to her breasts and showing off the black blouse as if saree was transparently not there..

Vicky : ohh sorry bhabhi.. i dropped water.. let me clean it up..(as Vicky pretended to pull out a hankerchief from his pocket).

Nilanjana : (turning away to avoid Vicky touching her) go to hell..

Vicky frowns and keeps back his hankerchief..

Nilanjana heaves a sigh of relief though she does not show it. She still acts to be irritated but forced lady and pretending that Vicky’s tricks cannot prick into her mind.

Vicky : so bhabhi, we begin in your bedroom..

Nilanjana looks up bt remains silent.. she was expecting it. Her bedroom was just an addition.

Vicky : can you take us to your bedroom?

Nilanjana looks at him.. her saree was still clinging to her body.. and she had not bothered to move it away.

she turned and walked to her bedroom. not bothering the two men following her..

as they enter the bedroom.. she switches on the lights..

Vicky : bhabhi, so clean, seems no one slept in here since ages..

Nilanjana ignores his comments.. Vicky goes and switches on the AC.

Vicky : so when was the last time you slept with brother here?

Nilanjana (shot back) : this is none of your..

Vicky : anything i ask is my business, you get me??

Nilanjana looked at Vicky in defeated hatred, but still fill of pride that she was fighting despite being prisoner of lost war.

Vicky : now, when was the last time you made out with brother in this bed?

Nilanjana was stunned at the deeper, more aimed question.

she mumbled something..

Vicky : i did not hear anything, you know what happens when i dont get what I want..dont you? being good and specific would be better for you..

Nilanjana : day before yesterday..

Vicky : crazy guys.. you go about it even in days..

Nilanjana looked up at Vicky.. she did not want to argue or take it more over.. she just wanted it to finish..

Vicky : is brother able to satisfy you bhabhi with his small…?

Nilanjana : SHUT UP, he is your elder brother..

Vicky : ohh bhabhi, ok.. i will be more direct.. so many years, why have you not been able to bear a child??

Nilanjana (shooting back) : this is none of your..(broken by Vicky)

Vicky : ahahh.. my business.. I got my answer bhabhi.. probably you should take him to a good doctor..

Nilanjana: what?? shut up..

Vicky : i can understand bhabhi, now you will not have to worry.. you will be mother to your own nephew..he he..

Nilanjana had no option but to look down on the inevitable and amazingly direct threat.. inevitable till she does not act or there is some help coming from her fate..

Vicky : bhabhi, where is ur makeup kit..

Nilanjana : why?

Vicky : you look horrible after all those tears running down your cheeks.

Nilanjana : i will freshen up and come..

Vicky : wait bhabhi, take this.. Rohit!!!

Rohit pulls out a cheap looking makup kit from the bag.. it seemed used heavily and repeatedly .. and roughly.. also added couple of real bright shaded golden and deep red lipsticks.

Nilanjana surprisingly looks at the extensivity of the preparedness these two men had come with.. they seemed regular at their jobs.

Vicky : bhabhi, to help you we got these.. opening the deep bright red shade lipstick..

Nilanjana : what?? I am NOT going to apply this..

Vicky : dont worry, I will apply that myself on you..

Nilanjana looked at Vicky. For the first time, her eyes were pleading him. She looked on as Rohit emptied the cheap but extensive makeup kit on the table. She could identify the makeup base, roos, lipsticks, kajal brushes and various shades of eye liners.

From a free lady till few minutes ago, Nilanjana was now reduced to a slut. So much so, right now she was wondering what was in store for her. Vicky had hand on her most sensitive nerve and could wreck her whole life without injuring her. He had turned her into a slut without even stripping a single cloth off her body. And now here she was, standing in front of her brother in law, whom she had publically accused of making sexual advances on her, in her own bedroom, waiting for him to apply makeup on her.

Vicky : Sit here bhabhi. (pointing to the stool).

Nilanjana : please Vicky.

Vicky : hurry up bhabhi, we dont have all day to do this..

Nilanjana reluctanly lowered herself on the stool in front of the mirror. She daily used this stool and mirror while applying her daily makeup, but today the mirror would witness something else. But there was something else she could see in the mirror. Rohit was setting up the video camera. Startled she turned around. Vicky realized that she had seen it and smiled in his mind. What Nilanjana did not realize is that the camera was on and whatever she was going to say now was also getting recorded.

Nilanjana : no please, dont take the camera. I am doing anything that you want. But not the camera please..

Vicky : bhabhi, we agreed to do the blue film..

Nilanjana : but no recording of events Vicky.

Vicky : then what is a blue film?

Nilanjana : I will do everything you ask for..

Vicky : now, now, I am surprised when you say you will object to recording when we make a blue film.. I dont know what else you will object to… I want to understand what you mean by everything..

Nilanjana : I will do everything, everything, you ask for .. just no camera please..

Vicky : can you detail out, everything, please..

Nilanjana : everything means… huh.. it means. everything..

Vicky : no no.. please detail so that we are on the same page..

Nilanjana : (feeling bit uncomfortable to detail everything.)

Vicky : you are not keeping your promise bhabhi.. how can i trust you will do somethings, which you dont even want to say.. Maybe i should call..

Nilanjana : no no.. i will… stammering… i will strip in front of both of u..

Vicky : and??

Nilanjana : and?? …. and i will .. dance for you..

Vicky : (smiling on her) dance naked??

Nilanjana : yes..

Vicky : and??

Nilanjana : and?? …and…. and sleep with both of you..

Vicky : in your own bedroom??

Nilanjana : yes..

Vicky : in your own bed??

Nilanjana : (getting bit irritated) yes..

Vicky : will you kiss me in your bed too..

Nilanjana : yes..

Vicky : where?

Nilanjana : on your lips..

Vicky : i also want it on my pole..

Nilanjana : ok.. i will..

Vicky : what you will..

Nilanjana : i will kiss you.. there..

Vicky : where??

Nilanjana : (now visibly irritated) i will kiss you on your pole..

Vicky : will you remember your husband??

Nilanjana : no.

Vicky : what if your husband comes to know of it..

Nilanjana : (suddenly irritation replaced by pleading in her voice) no no.. please dont let him know this.. i will do everything.. please dont let..

Vicky : will the pole meet the hole??

Nilanjana : (not answering)…

Vicky : will the pole meet the hole??

Vicky seemed to be enjoy bargaining with Nilanjana on the receiving end.. she had no option but to concede everything he asked for..

Nilanjana : yes..

Vicky was enjoying making her say things she would never have said.. and above all this was all getting recorded..

Nilanjana : (her eyes begging for this to be completed) damn yes.. .. pole will get the ho….

Vicky : hmmm.

Nilanjana : please but no recording please..

Vicky : but after all we recorded everything till now..

Nilanjana : (confused) what?

Vicky : yeah Rohit show her..

Rohit rewinds the tape and shows Nilanjana the recordings of her leaning on Vicky as he helps her wear those high heeled bright red slutty sandals.. she was surprised..

the recording further moves to seconds back. when she was detailing those ‘everything’ tasks that she was planning to do for them.. in her own bed.. behind her husband.. she was pleading them not to tell her husband.. the camera had very less volume on playback, but her words were banging in her head.

Vicky : bhabhi, this recording is enough for us to prove worth of your values..

Nilanjana : (seemingly angry) damn you.. recording secretly.. who will beleive you..

Vicky : nothing in this recording which shows u being forced.. you seemed to be acting like a real slut..

Nilanjana : destroy this recording or..

Vicky : or.??

Nilanjana remained silent.. nothing she could do or say.. she was helpless and had stepped into a deeper mess..

Vicky : (his voice declaring and announcing) NOW THIS TAPE WILL TAKE EVERYTHING THAT COMES NOW.. (MasalaMan, 2009)

This picture was shot a few days ago at Prayag ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I was watching this lady and I thought that whatever the sari can be it always gives a kind of radiance and a touch of dignity to women.
It is amazing that it is done by only a single straight length of cloth and yet it offers so much of variety provided by the fabrics, designs and colours.

God, I love Sabyasachi Mukherjee. His style is so classy and vintage and so magnificently Indian, I just squeal over his saris and every single other thing he makes.

He understands heritage, and that gives his designs that extra class that you just don’t see in Bollywood. I hate the saris that Bollywood actresses and models sometimes wear.

1. Please for the love of fashion, don’t wear bikini blouses with your saris. Strappy blouses are fine, bikini blouses are just gross. The whole point of the sari blouse is to show off the gorgeous embroidery and the colors. Also, excessive skin show is never sexy.

2. STOP WITH THE ONE-BOOB SHOW. Your pallu is supposed to cover both boobs, even if you reeeeally want to show off your sari blouse or think you have really nice boobs. Sorry, but the boobs, they do not need to say hi. It is tacky and anyway, it looks way sexier when they’re covered and look suggestive and sensual, instead of WHAM, BOOB IN YO FACE.

Watch Bipasha Basu, who I also kind of love, break both of these rules in a Sabyasachi sari.

Oh Bips, I looove you, but then you’re so trashy and manage to make even a Sabyasachi look bad. Bikini blouse? Check. Flash one boob and cover the other? Check. You even had to choose a shiny sari, my girl. Which brings me to yet another Bollywood trend that I don’t like:

3. BLING. There are better ways to dazzle your fans, people. I hate Bollywood bling. Don’t get me wrong, the glitter is sometimes really beautiful if tastefully done, but most of the time it is so…bad.

Like, ew.

Sometimes Bollywood does get it right, but most of the time they get so caught up in bling and glamor that they end up ruining Indian fashion. That is why I love Sabyasachi – he just uses traditional textiles, prints and dyes and he gets it right. He gets it so right. He understands the beauty of a simple, elegant cotton sari. He knows how you’re supposed to drape it. He makes you feel like a woman in a Raja Ravi Varma painting. Even his gorgeous bomber jackets have that distinctly Indian aesthetic with the hand-printed silks and the warm colors.

These days, if you walk into a Kimaya store you’ll see all this expensive designer clothing that is trying so hard to be Bollywood – all chamak dhamak, tacky embroidery, badly cut materials, no originality. I really want a new sari because I haven’t worn one since my high school graduation (Really!) and I’m dying to wear either a Kerala sari (chaste white with a plain gold border – I love the South Indian look) or something really vintage and traditional. Sabyasachi is horrendously expensive, but I want to find something with his aesthetic. That means a real hunt will have to commence, to sift through all the mass-produced bling.

 image credits

 braided hair and flowers , nothing gets as indian as this one.

Someone said, ”a picture is worth a thousand words”. I never felt it so apt until I came across these advertisements. I could have never conveyed the ideas more beautifully…

Let the pictures speak for themselves… I bow to the creators..

Global fashion house brings you the world’s finest collection of Indian Sarees. Our collections include the wide range of the most beautiful, elegant and durable Indian Sarees. We are a reputed company based in Kolkata, India and promote ourselves as Indian Saree suppliers and exporters from India.

We present exclusive Indian Sarees for all occasions and materials in various colors and design. The vibrant collection of Global Fashion House is an amazing fusion of Indian tradition and Western style. Our products cover extensive range including Wedding Bridal Sarees, Designer Sarees, Embroidered Sarees, Casual Wear Sarees, Silk Sarees and Printed Sarees.

We provide you the reason to celebrate womanhood and enhance the essence of femininity with Global Fashion. We offer a wide variety of Hand Embroidered Sarees presented in the most eloquent style. Dexterously designed by our team of adept professionals, these Designer Bridal Sarees come in exotic color combinations. Perfect to be worn on wedding, festivals and other ceremonies, our wonderful collection of Designer Embroidered Sarees cater to different aesthetic tastes.

We welcome all kind of enquiries starting from an individual to bulk buyers or importers from all over the world. Shop with us to explore the essence of womanliness by exploring our latest collection. We will flourish if you are satisfied with our service completely.

Please visit:

www.globalsaridelivery.com

In a fit of rage, we say something, which may have fatal consequences.

It actually happened. A mother, with half a dozen  children, all crying for this and that, told one girl to hang herslf. She went to the bath room, tied a sari round her neck, and hung herself from the beam! What a shock to the parents and all those who heard it with disbelief.

When you fee bad, close your eyes and chant NARAYANA in your mind.

When you abuse, you are wounding the mind. It is worse than beating.

“Rise up nimbly and go on your strange journey to the ocean of meanings.”
(Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and mystic, 1207–1273)

This was shot last Sunday at Prayag ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I believe that it was the last very hot day of the year here and many people came to river in order to find a way to feel fresh.
This woman was pouring the holy water on her, I took several pictures as the colours were coming so well.

Today I love…

1. Cooking all day and making fabulous channa

2. Successful sari wearing skills!

3. Dr. Horrible sing-a-long while chopping veggies with LC, JW, HR, CA, EC, and MF.

just got you’ve got a friend in pennsylvania #1 in the mail from sari, who, despite being from pennsylvania, is actually currently living in my hometown and we probably know a bunch of the same people which is hilarious, since i got this zine from a random ning trade. also this zine is bound with needle and thread which always impresses me. as a side note, i don’t usually bind my zines because i want people to make copies and give them to people, but if you think that’s annoying, please vote and tell me to get off my lazy ass and make my zines stick together somehow.

ANYWAY. the first part of you’ve got a friend in pennsylvania is sari’s travel diary from her study abroad in slovenija, which at first i was hesitant to read because i tend to get bored by people’s stories about how cool monuments are and shit like that. also this zine is totally text-heavy and therefore does not fulfill my usual desire for zines that i can read in the time span of a poop. but i persisted and it was worth it–not a monument to be found. when i finished that section of the zine i wanted to read more, which is sweet because sari will be printing more of her travel journal in issue #2. yo, sari, this trading relationship is not through. speaking of relationships, the rest of the zine mostly deals with those: old friends who have drifted apart, mothers, (ex)boyfriends. i wonder if sari has read culture slut or if amber has read you’ve got a friend in pennsylvania, because they both deal with issues of queer invisibility when badasss queer ladies are dating straight cis men. the last piece in the zine is from a paper sari wrote on menstruation, which was really interesting and actually i think might help with the seminar paper i’m writing on female facial hair. sari formatted the piece in two sections: theory and praxis (which i would like to do with my paper), and also writes about the desire to “separate ourselves from our ‘dirty’ bodily functions,” and the way that menstruation is delegated to a private space of shame or at best a hassle.

if you want a copy of you’ve got a friend in pennsylvania #1 email sari at youvegotafriendinpa@gmail.com.

also just got culture slut #19 and culture slut #20 from amber forrester in montreal, who is pretty much my zine hero. she makes me want to be a better zinester. one day…

Culture Slut #19 deals heavily with boys in all their shittiness–amber includes a trigger warning about the first part of the zine. besides the epic assholeness of dudes, #19 talks a lot about coming into a queer identity, and the struggles of doing that particularly while dating cis dudes. I can identify, lady. maybe i’ll make a zine about shitheads-i-have-dated and send it your way. other than being a damn good writer with things to say, amber is great at making zines really visually interesting with the incorporation of found images from old books and magazines, text from a label maker as well as a typewriter and so forth. also i was able to read this entire zine while pooping, which, for those of you who know, is something that always makes a zine a winner in my book.

In the words of culture slut #20’s epic author, “This zine is about getting settled in the city [Montreal], queerness, cats and periods.” It is also about love, living somewhere where you don’t speak the language, going back to school, city-biking, shitty gyno experiences, going to Pride for the first time, losing childhood pets, the word “cunt,” zine reviews…#20 also has a lovefest for the divacup, in common with you’ve got a friend which makes me kind of want to go buy one. i bought one a couple of years ago and found it didn’t fit comfortably but who knows…anyone want to lend me one to give it a shot?

In any case, Amber remains an inspiration and Culture Slut is a delight. One day I will go to Montreal and we will high five.

Okay, I have an epic amount of work to do and also need to go to Value Village today because my dress shoes fell apart at Homoween.

Hope you’re having a sunny Sunday,
j.bee

Day 3 – Sunday, 18th October 2009

I’ve never been a morning person. Early starts, however, were to become something natural in my new daily trek life routine. On Sunday (when I would usually have a nice lazy lie in) we got a wake-up call at 6:00 am and were expected to leave the hotel within an hour. Half-conscious (me) and with a nasty cold developing (Rafael) we nevertheless enjoyed breakfast in the hotel restaurant and were ready to go. We were about to set off on a journey into a fascinating and beautiful part of the country and see some of the most spectacular views in the world, so we were very excited!

In order to get to Arughat, the starting point of our trek, we went through hell. It all started nicely… We met our Sherpa guides, Tenzing and Dorchee, and then sat down comfortably in our colourful and very cheerful bus. Kit Spencer wished us all good luck and waved goodbye. Sweet. Then came escaping the dreaded Kathmandu traffic. It wasn’t as bad as it could be, had we left a couple of hours later, but still, it was crazy. People from the city and local villages were crowding in the streets, setting up their tiny stalls, already selling things or just standing there without a purpose. Whenever we stopped by a police check point someone would run towards our bus trying to sell newspapers or fresh cucumbers and various other products. It was loud, drivers were honking (of course) and overtaking one another in the most unbelievable configurations and we were just trying to get out of the capital as quickly as possible. Alive. But then again, in all that madness there was something fascinating. I couldn’t stop looking at people running around in the streets and at the shops and houses, nicely decorated for the Diwali festival. I just wanted to absorb the atmosphere of this city and try to somehow understand it.

Once we left Kathmandu, the journey from hell began. Never in my life had I experienced such a bumpy, unpleasant and nerve-racking ride. Don’t get me wrong, our driver tried everything he could to make it as comfortable as possible, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. For more than six long hours I was desperately trying to find some kind of position, in which a) I wouldn’t fall of my chair b) wouldn’t smack my head into the window constantly b) wouldn’t hit Rafael in the side with my elbow trying to avoid getting all bruised up myself. Ouch. You can imagine the state of the roads in that part of Nepal. ‘Rough’ they call them. Indeed. I have no idea how our lovely, yet quite rickety bus made it through all of those craters in the ground.

One of the ways to make the journey less painful (at least mentally) was looking out the window and observing the country life, as we passed quite a few villages along the way. It was interesting to see people not really doing much, just sitting in front of their houses, chatting or playing games. I guess they were in their festive mode, so they were excused from doing any chores. They would usually look at us with curiosity and sometimes scepticism. Children would more often run towards our bus, shouting ‘hello’ and waving at us. It was shocking for me to compare the two ways of living – our comfortable, relatively wealthy Western households and those poor simple rough-looking Nepalese houses – what a contrast!

Towards the end of our journey we had a little incident. The road was very narrow, but we were lucky enough not to pass any large vehicles… until we encountered another bus. The situation was quite simple for us and our driver. It would be easier for the other driver to reverse and find a wider spot to pass instead of us having to do a risky reversing manoeuvre uphill. But the other guy just didn’t want to give way. A funny, but frustrating scene took place. Most of the men from the other bus, a few from a vehicle standing behind us and our own Nepali guides stood in the middle of the road discussing the issue in a very lively manner for about ten or fifteen minutes. The funny thing was that everyone wanted to participate in the discussion, but nothing was happening. Finally, a compromise was achieved. Yes, we had to reverse a few metres, but it was the stubborn driver, who had to pass us on the side where the drop was…

After some time our misery ended and we reached our destination – Arughat. The village has two parts, which lie opposite each other by the Buri Gandaki River. We left our bus in the Eastern part of the village, which is a large prosperous bazaar with many guest houses, craftsmen’s workshops and shops selling souvenirs, clothes and food. To get the other side of Arughat we had to cross a suspension bridge. This was one of those things I knew would be difficult for me, as I suffer slightly from vertigo. Remember, don’t look down and just walk as quickly as possible – it swings a lot and if you are afraid of heights you don’t want to stay there for long! Somehow I managed to cross my first suspension bridge without too much of a panic, but I was happy to be on the other side!

Stone steps led us to the other side of the village, where we were supposed to camp. Our itinerary included camping instead of staying in guest houses, which I think was a really good idea. I’d never camped before, but I’ve heard and read lot about the lack of adequate hygiene in traditional lodges so I wholeheartedly embraced the idea of sleeping in my own clean tent.

After unpacking and settling in our camp we were served afternoon tea and biscuits by our Sherpa kitchen staff. This five o’clock tea was to become another pleasant tradition on the trek, which everyone was always looking forward to. It was a splendid occasion to chat and get to know each other better. After tea Rafael and I went on a walk to the village. We wanted to take advantage of the last rays of light before sunset and take some photos of the people in Arughat. We passed a few boys playing table tennis and in no time I found myself competing with the local champion. I find this game very addictive and had to show those Nepali teenagers just how good I was. Soon a small crowd of locals and our new friends from our group gathered around. At some point I had to let go, although the temptation to play another set was big. We left however, to see more of Arughat.

We met Tim and Bob on our way and we walked around the village together. The people of Arughat seemed very nice and open. We greeted them with the word ‘namaste’, which means ‘I salute the God in you’, commonly used for saying ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. They answered back with a smile on their faces. The villagers were visually striking. Women wore beautiful saris in all the most vivid colours possible. Red seemed to be a very popular one. Because of the Diwali festival, people were decorating their houses with flowers, garlands and gave them a new coat of paint. There were special stalls on the street, were men were selling colourful dyes, used to paint tikas, special marks on one’s forehead.

There was one woman, who particularly enchanted all of us. It was an older lady, sitting on the porch of her house, peacefully smoking a hubbly bubbly and observing the street. She looked very dignified in her red blouse and colourful ornate skirt, wearing traditional jewellery and glasses. She had a red tika painted on her forehead. She patiently allowed us to take a series of her portraits. She was wonderful, seemed to be a symbol of the village community, proud and independent.

After a little while we went back to our campsite. We had a lovely dinner prepared by our Sherpa cooks and stayed outside for a bit enjoying the warmth of the night and each others company. It was still pleasant as Arughat is situated only 606 metres above sea level. We would gradually go higher and higher, but the trip was designed smartly, with a steady ascent in order to avoid anyone getting any high altitude related illness. Symptoms, such as headaches, nausea and fatigue are quite common high up in the mountains, especially if you try to go up too quickly. You should never rush, but take your time and then you will get to the top happy and healthy and have the opportunity to enjoy the views and take some splendid photos.

The next day we were to have our first long walk, a six hour trek to our next campsite in a village called Liding. The whole trek around Manaslu, the eighth highest mountain in the world, which is 8163 metres above sea level, would take us eighteen days in whole. We would have two acclimatisation days before crossing the Larkya La Pass, which was the high point of our circuit – 5213 metres above sea level. This would be my lifetime achievement – I’d never been higher before. What is more, I would have the chance of not only setting my new record but also doing that in the highest mountains on this planet, the mighty and beautiful Himalayas!

To be continued…

Ser universitário, quando se fala de Cinema, não significa ser menos talentoso. Ao menos no Paraná, a sétima arte tem destacado os acadêmicos dos curso de Cinema da FAP/CINEPRTV que, mesmo antes de sair da faculdade, ganham destaque e conquistam seu espaço no mercado de trabalho que estão prestes a entrar. Um exemplo desse sucesso é o cineasta e estudante Wellington Sari. Sócio da produtora Pé em Quadro filmes, ele atua como crítico, diretor e produtor de curta-metragens. Em seu portfólio o destaque fica para a direção do premiado Lavanderia Shermer (exibido no Cine Pinhão em 24/04) e o videoclipe Eu Amo Vc, da banda Charme Chulo. Dessa vez, Wellington volta ao Cine Pinhão para apresentar seu trabalho mais recente, o Romance Edmottês, a história de um rapaz que deve escolher entre as duas moças que ama.

O Cine Pinhão vai ao ar todos os sábados, às 23h30, com reprise às quintas-feiras, às 23h00. A apresentação é da jornalista Cláudia Almeida.

12h04 – É Seu Direito – Café

12h35 – Resumo da Semana

13h00 – Onde Você Estava? – Queda do Muro de Berlim

13h30 – Mundo da Arte – O Artesão de Ilusões: Wesley Duke Lee

14h00 – Urbanidades – Judeus

15h05 – Mundo da Alimentação – Churrasco à Gaúcha

15h30 – Marca Paraná – Engenharia Reversa

16h25 – PR399 – Contenda

– O Dono da Rua – Augusto Stresser

17h00 – Reprise Resumo da Semana

17h25 – Mundo da Fotografia – Marcos Piffer: Paisagem do Mar

18h00 – É Seu Direito – Café

18h35 – Onde Você Estava? – Queda do Muro de Berlim

19h00 – Urbanidades – Judeus

20h00 – Reprise Resumo da Semana

20h25 – Memória Política – Evandro Lins e Silva

21h30 – Marca Paraná – Engenharia Reversa

22h35 – PR399 – Contenda

– O Dono da Rua – Augusto Stresser

23h00 – Reprise Resumo da Semana

23h30 – Cine Pinhão – Romance Edmottês

– Perfil Parlamentar – Pedro Ivo Ilkiv, Alexandre Curi, Luiz Accorsi, Edson Praczyk

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Quelques jours après l’ouverture de l’atelier, des personnes m’ont amenés leur toile. Une peinture faite par Arsène sari, cela ne vous dit peut-être rien (comme à moi quand la propriétaire m’en a parlé) mais pour l’anecdote, Arsène Sari était ami proche de Picasso et à pris des cours de peinture avec Renoir. J’étais très impressionnée pour mon premier devis d’avoir une telle oeuvre entre les mains.
Finalement, je n’ai pas fait la restauration, c’est une toile acrylique, et je n’avais encore pas assez de recul, j’ai préféré le rendre à son propriétaire car pour un premier travail si je l’avais loupé ça aurait été très mauvais pour la suite de l’atelier. Maintenant je me sentirais capable de le faire, car depuis j’ai eu différentes toiles entres le mains et de différentes techniques.

A while back I mentioned that I had received some Indian clothes from the coworker of my father-in-law. Last night, I set up the tripod and we took some snazzy photos (wow – that sounds so suspicious when I type it out like that).

Firstly, we have the Salwar Suit of Immense Floweryness:

Lea will be the recipient of the kameez, and I’m keeping the rest; I have a white kameez that will look good with it (and will make the flower pattern a little less overwhelming)

Next, there is the Salwar Suit of Surprisingly Well-Suited Grey and Coral:

So named because I honestly thought it would look ghastly on me, but it really doesn’t!

And then, the most intriguing of the whole batch, The Sari That Could Also Potentially Be a 1970s-Era Prom Dress:

This is also the same sari that was on the CG at the Halloween party. It looks a lot better on her.

And finally, the one that’s the best, which is the green sari with gold embroidery:

I will actually get a lot of wear out of that one, as the embroidery is tasteful and it goes pretty well with my skin tone.

Although it is not of the above gift lot, I had to share my birthday sari:

I would so totally wear this every single day, if I could. It makes me feel like a princess. I will post more photos when the blouse is done.

‘…

Nerede bir mum yansa şimdi,

Nerede oynasa bir kedi.

Birbirine yansıyor, karışıyor gölgeleri.

Bugün dün gibi oluyor,

Dün bugün gibi.

Mum ellerimi yakıyor,

Tırmalıyor kedinin elleri

Belleğimi..’

Özdemir Asaf..

Unutulduğum yerde seni mi bekledim bunca zaman?Yol ortasında unutulan herhangi eski bir şey gibi.Deneysel,yarım aşklar yaşamak için mi beklemişim bunca zaman?Adsız,kimliksiz,öksüz çocuklar mı büyüttüm seninle kalbimde kimi zaman?

“Şimdi niye yazıyorsun ki bunları?” dersin belki de.Belki,okumayı bitirince kalkıp yanıma gelirsin ve yine öpersin beni acemi çocuklar gibi.Gözlerinin gözlerimden kaçmasına alıştım,belki farkındasın.Ama kalbini kalbimden neden kaçırdığını anlayamadım?

Öğreniyorum;hayatı,aşkları,seni,kendimi…Yarım bırakılan ve bir gece yanında birileri yazı yazarken tamamlanmaya çalışılan filmler gibidir aslında aşk.Bir o kadar önemsiz,bir o kadar hayati…

Yarım bırakılmış bir film olmak istemiyorum ben.Sanki,bilmediğimiz bir dilde yaşıyoruz duyguları.Ben kalbini anlamıyorum,sen kalbimi anlamıyorsun.Ama bir süre sonra yeni bir dil öğrenecek kalbim.O zaman kalbinin kaçacak yeri kalmayacak çok odalı dehlizlerde!

Gözlerin;bir resme aşık olmak ya da bir resme yazı yazmak,bir bakışa.Bir ressamın en ünlü tablosu sanki.Ben senin resmine aşığım senden öte.Anlamına…Yorgunluğuna…Özlemine…Boynu bükük,tren camlarından kim bilir neleri izlemene…Sarı duvarlarda siyahın ve senin güzel durmana…Sana! Hanginizi daha çok sevdim ben? Seni mi,suretini mi?Bunu bir gün hepimiz öğreneceğiz…

Vazgeçtim.Nelerden,kimlerden ve niye sorma! Sadece vazgeçtim.Sırf bu nedenle sevebilirdim aslında seni.Vazgeçmişsin ve sırf bu nedenle sevebilirdin beni!

Bir gün;söylemekten utanılan ve deli gibi saklanılanlarla apaçık ortada olanların ortasında buluşacağız seninle…O gün; ben seni seveceğim korkmadan! Ve sen beni seveceksin korkmadan!

Ba’De’Ba / 12.Eylül.03 / OrTaKöY

Kendimleydim,

Uzun süredir.

Sensizdim

Bir süredir…

Sen geldin…

Çıktın aniden geldin!

Bir gece bir kamyonetin arkasında buldum seni!

Bir gece bir meydanın ortasında buldun beni…

Beraber yenilen bir yemekti tanışmak,

Şarap içmekti konuşmak,

Dinlemek; senin sözlerindi sadece…

Öpüşmek;tereddüt etmekti…

Ve sarılmak sana; terk etmesiydi benliğinin

Bir başka benliği yaşatmak için!

Geldin…

“Şen baharlar gibi girdin hayatıma” diyemem!

Bir hayli sarı güzlerdeydi kalbin.

Beynin; İzmir yollarında göstergesi bozuk bir otobüs…

Ellerin; unutulmuşluk mevsiminde soğuk temas.

“Unuttur bana yaşananları!” diyemezsin!

Bir hayli mor hüzünlerdeydi kalbim.

Beynim ; hastalıklı ülkelerde eter kokulu gazlı bez…

Ellerim; ölü bir balık,ülkesi sonsuz deniz…

Kendimleyim,

Uzun süredir.

Seninleyim

Bir süredir…

Ba’De’Ba / 4.Ekim.03/OrTaKöY

Decorreu no passado dia 27 de Outubro, nos Serviços de Documentação da Universidade do Minho, uma sessão de formação presencial para administradores de repositórios.

O objectivo desta formação foi dotar os responsáveis pelos repositórios institucionais com competências básicas para a gestão e organização do repositório, considerando os princípios básicos do Open Access, o conceito de Repositório Institucional, assim como as directrizes definidas no âmbito do projecto RCAAP.

Esta formação teve como principal público os administradores dos repositórios recentemente integrados no Serviço de Alojamento de Repositórios Institucionais (SARI):

- Laboratório Nacional de Energia e Geologia – http://www.lneg.pt

- Instituto Superior de Psicologia Aplicada – http://www.ispa.pt

- Instituto Politécnico de Castelo Branco – http://www.ipcb.pt

- Hospital Prof. Doutor Fernando Fonseca http://www.hff.min-saude.pt

Estas candidaturas permitiram alargar a tipologia de instituições, contando com mais um Hospital no projecto RCAAP e com um laboratório de estado.

Em breve estarão no portal RCAAP: