I thinked!

February Portions!

2012-02-06T02:57:00.000-08:00

Waiting for my friends

Schooling today is really a daunting affair for parents. Yeah, parents, not the children. I had a detailed Parent-Teacher's meeting for my 3.5 year old and was given a list of 'portions' for February (read list below). Other parents had 'doubts'. One wanted to know if there was any 'recommended reading'... hello, they are ALL in Pre-KG (or Nursery for the Bombay-ites).

Portions:

Cutting - Using scissors, cut strips of paper on the line drawn.
Transport - Classify as Road, Water, Rail and Air way. Be able to talk about features of each (number of wheels, color, shape, size etc.)
Coloring - Be able to color using 4 colors (Hey, Button is barely able to color within the lines using 1 crayon. Now 4?)
Helpers - All transport helpers - Pilot, Conductor, Driver, Captain etc. Also, equivalent names (used globally).
Traffic signals - Colors, purpose, Inspector, Road rules (Now I know why Chennai doesn't follow road rules. People forget. They learn TOO early!)
Stories - 2 specific stories
Rhymes - 8 different English rhymes + 1 Hindi + 1 Tamil
Fruit Salad making (Finally, a fun activity!)
Sports portions (WHAT?) - Skipping, Crawling thro' hoops, Balancing walk, Ball throw.

Whilst the school expects these things, Button is OBSESSED with Lightening McQueen (of the Cars franchise). Imagines he lives in California and that I am Sally etc. So hopefully, he'd enjoy the classes this month.

Parenting a child is hard enough, but with Tiger moms all around me, its getting a bit scary! What do you think? Pressure at young ages is good or not? If yes, in what quantity? Finding that line is a tough task indeed.

Dhaka Delight!

2011-11-27T00:23:00.000-08:00

After weeks and weeks of induliging in laziness, I finally managed to kick my own butt (thanks to my new yoga classes) and here’s my account of my recent travels. There are actually 3 places I want to cover (Munnar, Trivandrum and Kol-Dhaka), but shall do so in 3 different posts (hopefully before the year runs out!)

New Market

After a girls-only trip to Israel in March, my friends and I picked up the courage to leave the kids home and venture on a second trip in late Oct. Due to various commitments and maid-schedules (yes!) we decided to go to Kolkata. I’ve lived in Cal for almost 2 years and I LOVE the city, but did not fancy going there for a whole week. In a moment of pure whimsy, giving in to my tantrums, my friends agreed to go to Dhaka with me. Why Dhaka? Our Jet Miles were sufficient to only cover that distance J Pure economics, nothing else(at least initially).

Evening at Kalighat

To cut a lengthy prologue short, we arrived in Cal one lovely cool Sunday evening. Spent the next day with a really close friend of mine and my 4 months old godson. Went to Kalighat that evening. Despite having lived for 2 years at only a stone’s throw away from the temple, I had previously never visited Kalighat. I REALLY wanted to visit the temple this time, and what a rousing reception She gave me. There were no queues, very minimal hankering for money and a lovely long darshan. Filled my heart with joy! Ate that evening at ‘6 Ballygunge Place’, a restaurant that serves authentic Bangla food. I recommend the restaurant as a must-visit – the ambience is perfect (an old Bungalow), the menu quirkily designed (all mocktails are very ‘cal’ centric) and the food, oh-so-yummmy (I only had veg food though). The nolin-gud icecream is delicious beyond imagination, the sukhtoi is an explosion of veggies and the lucchi-aloo just melts in your mouth. Two thumbs up!

The next morning we went to Dakshineshwar and Belur-Math. The temple is well maintained and beautiful. Spent the rest of the day in shopping out Kolkata (am sure the next day was a self-declared bandh, we shopped SO MUCH!) Treated my friend to authentic street food, courtesy puchkas and Maharani. Spent a grand total of 21 INR and could barely walk after that. Cal is just the same!

A Hero's welcome indeed!

Early next morning, the 3 of us left for Dhaka. A half-hour flight led us to a lovely airport with a never-ending corridor. Thanks to our host (a friend’s really influential friend) we breezed past immigration and exited to…… chaos! “Mine is bigger than yours” is the driving mantra in Dhaka. Big minivans are the chosen vehicles to plow one’s way through the traffic or cool off, feet stretched when stuck. Traffic is completely a jungle here… make-way-for-the-biggest-and-meanest! Estimates for going to Sonargaon from Uttara, Dhaka (about 30 kms) range from 30 mins to 10 hours!!! We were lucky to have a super guide(Z) with us (a dear friend of one of my fellow-travelers). A witty and engaging personality, he kept us entertained and we were in Sonaragon in a record 45 minutes (also thanks to Farukh, the brilliant driver. Move over Vettel!).

Sonargaon was the old capital of Bangladesh. We took a look at the 17^th century houses (walled in, but in good condition) belonging mostly to Hindu traders who had settled here. The streets are intact and the inscriptions on the door-arches are clearly visible. The pink sandstone houses had large courtyards for singing and dancing. Pretty trellises and carved arches spoke of the sophistication of the inhabitants here. It was surreal looking in, as if one were in a set of ‘Devdas’ …. I could almost hear the singing and dancing that went on here ages ago.

Returning from Sonargaon, we were stuck in a traffic jam for over 2 hours… and our host said we were lucky it lasted only that time! Drove past all historical spots in Old Dhaka, with Z pointing out the key sights from the University to the Parliament building to Ahsaan Manzil, Lalbagh Palace, Kazi Nazrul’s memorial, Banga bagaan and the Old Court building. Mostly a blend of Anglo-Mughal architecture. Similar to many of the monuments we have across India, yet different and architecturally unique. We visited the Dhakeshwari temple (I guess from whom Dhaka gets her name). The kali avatar here is smiling and oh-so-pretty. The temple is maintained really well and unlike Dakshineshwar and Kalighat (which we had visited in Calcutta), there aren’t any touts here, making the spiritual experience richer and memorable.

We also had the opportunity to savor some local veg delicacies (which I strongly recommend). The first was a sweet 'pitha', yummy dish with a nalin gud (palm jaggery) filling. The covering was made of rice noodles and garnished with coconut flakes on top. Somewhat similar to the Tamizh ‘idiyappam’, this dish had us licking our fingers for more. Where to find it? On the roadside in Old Dhaka! We also had 'dal puri', a deep-fried dish, with a batter outer covering and different fillings of potato, onion and raw banana. Similar to fritters or bhajjis, except made with mustard oil in a roadside shop in Old Dhaka J The other foods that tantalized our taste buds were the excellent dal (the lentil preparation had coconut shavings and poppy seeds to give it a twist), eggplant roast and the alu-parval (which traveled across its Paschim Bongo border I guess!)

On day 2, we headed off for a leisurely cruise down Sitalakhya river (I strongly recommend Guide Tours, however only if you take the longer cruises). Our guide was an entertaining enterprising young lad (just turned 20) whose dream was to do an MBA in Delhi! He was thoroughly clued into Indian politics and cricket, and was quite a find (ask for Johnny, if you use Guide Tours). A slow ride on the river took us past the Zamindar’s old bunglow (called Zamindar bari) to a village that specializes in weaving Jaamdaani saris. After a walk around the village, we headed back after enjoying a lovely dinner onboard.

Dhaka is known for its export-quality china. My friends bought a complete set of dinnerware, from serving bowls to dinner and quarter plates, soup bowls, spoons, tea cups & saucers et al (some 78 pieces in total) each. These sets were meant for Royal Doulton, Harrods. The retail price at Harrods is about 800 GBP and my friends picked it up for about 14000 INR!!!! Thus spake export-economics!

Day 3 rushed past in a blur of shopping in Aarong (a cooperative, a MUST-visit should you shop in Dhaka) and just making the flight back to Kolkata.

The entire trip away from family gave us perspective on how much we missed our husbands and kids J It was a lovely breather and despite raised eyebrows, Dhaka is a lovely city to visit. Unlike what one may ‘assume’, Dhaka is NOT like any Indian city. The culture, people, language, food and even the outlook of the man-on-the-street is different from India and uniquely Bangladeshi. And that uniqueness is endearing, warm and lively. In my opinion, it’s an affordable holiday…. Just do it!

Buttonisms : The questions we ask!

2011-08-12T20:56:00.000-07:00

Button's Logic!

Button has been learning several shlokams since we moved to Chennai (grandparents, school influence etc.). One of the shlokams he knows is 'Saraswati Namastubyam Varade Kamarupini'.

A couple of days ago, I told Button that my grandmother's name is Saraswati. He looked puzzled. So I repeated - "Button, amma's paati's name is Saraswati. Your big paati's name is Saraswati".

He looked stunned and he continued "Cheenu thatha's (my dad's) name is Namastubyam, Amma's name is Varade and I am Kamarupini"!!!!!!

Talk of extrapolation.

Button's Candor

His personality has been growing by leaps and bounds since he joined school and began going to daycare. He is now learning to say that he "does not like" things and he "likes" others.

In the car yesterday -

Me: "Button, do you like daycare or do you like going to your grandmom's house?"

Button: (studied silence)

Me: "Button, do you like your grandmom's house or our house?"

Button: (Continued studied silence)

Me: "Button do you like your caretaker (girl) to play with you or do you prefer going to daycare?"

Button: "I don't like it"

Me: "What do you not like?"

Button: "I don't like the questions"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This conversation actually got me thinking. I don't know why we stop stating the obvious as we grow up. We use cliches and metaphors, or even say something that is diametrically opposite to what we are thinking. A child's honesty is refreshing. If we could communicate politely, but honestly, our lives would be SO MUCH better, ain't it?

Button's Generosity

Button and I were in the car the other day. We had just bought a few pastries from a bakery he likes. I had packed one separately and was feeding him in the car.

As expected, we were waiting at a red light and a ragamuffin knocked at our door - a young boy, not older than 5 or 6. He kept looking at the cake. Button looked right back at him and smiled.

I told Button that he was hungry, his parents could not buy him a pastry.

In a thrice, he offered the boy the pastry he was eating. He said "Mamma, he is hungry now. Lets give him a cake too. He will be a good boy and eat without spilling anything!"

I did not have the heart to refuse my son or that boy. So saving me a few calories and buying me some goodwill, I rolled down the window and offered the boy the box of pastries.

Charity does begin at home!

2011-07-29T01:46:00.000-07:00

Charity means differently to different people. My grandmom believes in feeding anyone she meets.. from the daily helpers to any extended family member to any child in my building who walks past her door. If she could feed me via phone, she probably would! But clothes, old newspapers, old utensils… NO! They are meant to be ‘sold’ to the raddiwala for money. This included our old clothes, school notebooks, carefully washed Bournvita bottles and even old tattered shoes.

My mom’s beliefs are different. She believes in ‘volunteering’ – from giving blood to teaching anyone who asks her for help to giving her seat on the bus to older travelers, she believes in extending herself. Having had to struggle financially herself, the only time she would open her wallet to give money generously was to aid education in any way – from becoming a guarantor to paying fees to hostel fees to buying books, she has done it all.

My definition of charity? I never believed in it, until recently. I did not believe in unorganized giving – I would contribute annually to a not-for-profit of my choice, but my old clothes, books, vessels – all of them would be dumped in the dumpster, never ‘given’ to any cleaning or cooking help. I never gave ‘giving’ to my support staff any thought.

Until Button was born.

I listened to the stories of my cleaning staff’s children and I began to notice the children on the road. In my head I have categorized them as the ones belonging to ‘begging’ rackets and the ones who actually belong to families who love them, keep them, but in abject conditions (due to various reasons). The latter category I have begun to help. I give away Button’s old toys and clothes and sometimes even books. I don’t think I can help ALL the children I see. Even the one or two I help, I sometimes wonder if I am doing the right thing giving them something that is not sustainable (and against my tenets of organized development). But I do feel sorry to see them robbed of small pleasures like a car or crayon, or even worse the necessity of clothes.

Every morning I cross this dumping ground near my office and I notice a little boy(a boy exactly the same size as Button) being fed by his mom or cuddled by an aunt or teased by his siblings. Yesterday, I saw him playing naked in a black puddle with a used paper cup - my heart sank, my stomach roiled and my temper rose. This morning, I met the mother of the boy, gave her clothes, toys and a healthy dose of ‘sanitary’ advice and reached office. Although I am not sure if I did the right thing, my heart is lighter. At least for some time the boy will not step into sludge(hopefully) and play with toys instead of unhygienic rubbish.

On a more proactive basis, can anyone direct me to an orphanage in Chennai that accepts donations of used toys, clothes and books?

Let her be....

2011-07-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

Today's women have it bad, really bad. The world expects them to be super successful at everything and yet have a serene smile on the face with perfectly coiffed hair and pale pink unchipped nails. Most people I met pre-work would ask me what I was doing and I'd grin and say that I was enjoying motherhood. Either people would stare at me as if my words were in Aramaic or smile smugly thinking of how exalted their positions were. In fact I have known friends who'd call themselves "only" homemakers, bah! Now that I have begun work (and it has been an exhausting juggler's act for 5 weeks now), I am struggling to find enough time to do everything. However, all the people I've met without exception, now nod sagely and smile appreciatively when I tell them that I work fulltime! Again, such easy judgement. As if life is easier.

My mom worked too, She was always running around in the evenings with Bank work or Community service or some extra school work. She was quite frazzled. But my wise energetic grandmom was. She was the anchor in my house. The house revolved around her. Even in those days, she believed that cooking and cleaning were best outsourced. So, we had a cook and a maid to do the housework. She read voraciously, listened to music and talked to everyone and most importantly listened to everyone. She is 82 years old now. And doesn't regret any decision she made, except not traveling to Kashmir when she had the chance.

That 'anchor' is an important fixture in every household. Despite the necessity of an anchor, the women who decide to stay-at-home are laughed at, patronized and ridiculed. But I salute these women, who put in everything to make the lives of their immediate family so much more meaningful. But the world won't let her be.

Does it mean working women ought to stay at home? No. I don't plan to quit my job anytime soon. I am enjoying it! But the anchor is important. The anchor - systematic time together is important, I've realized. I am working hard at getting the anchor into place.... God help me!

Q & A with Button

2011-06-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

Prologue: When Button is in a foul mood (crabby, sleepy, tired) it is easiest and most fun to ‘irritate’ him. It is also the best time to get lovely zany crazy answers about life J

All the questions below were on different days of course....he'll learn someday how amusing he was.

Me: Button, what is my sister’s name?

Button: Thumbelina!

Me: Who do you sit with in your class at school?

Button: A dinosaur and a pig!!

Me: Button, what did mamma give you in your snacks box?

Button: Many hugs (awwww, that too my son)

Me: Where did you go after school today?

(the answer is supposed to be his grandmom’s house)

Button: California

Me: What is appa’s brother’s name?

Button: Hanuman (It most decidedly IS not!)

Me: Who do you love more... amma or appa?

Button: Hyundai Verna !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Buttonisms - 3 going on 300!

2011-06-18T19:33:00.000-07:00

Now that Button has become a 'big' boy, his vocabulary has significantly increased and he communicates well in 3 languages.... well 2, and understands Hindi quite well already. His 'logical thinking' leaves us stumped many a time...

Button: "Amma, you said you'd buy me a Lightning McQueen at Landmark."
Me: "Yes, we'll go this evening"
Button (at the shop): "Amma, I want Sally, Doc, King, Mater........."
Me (HORRIFIED): "Button, ONLY ONE car. Why do you want to pick up so many, it is expensive."
Button: "Amma, Lightning McQueen will feel lonely, he needs his friends!!!! Otherwise he will be 'depressed'."

As if this were not enough, his new 'wily cunning' negotiation skills stepped in then...
Button: "Amma, I will take only ONE Lightning McQueen, but please let me play with him for longer, at least he will be happy to have me"! (Is he only 3 again?)

One day my cook left home at the same time as Button and I. In the elevator,he asked her...
Button: "Sundari aunty, where are you going?"
Cook: "I am going home."
Button: "Where is your car?"
Cook: "I am going by bus."
Button (earlier he'd've professed delight at traveling by bus,but he now said):"Mom, why doesn't she have a car?"
Me (struggling to explain): "Maybe she doesn't have money to buy a car?"
Button: "Lets go to the ATM and give her money. It is hot today, let her buy a car right away."

That day, I tried explaining how each thing costs money and we have to pay money (even if it swiping a card) in order to purchase any item. Ever since, the moment I pick up something, from a potato to a perfume, he pipes up "Amma, what is the price? Can we 'afford' it? It is expensive!" Who needs a watchdog?!

My father-in-law: "So, Button, what do you want to become when you grow up?"
Button: "Fat Controller!!!" (ref: Thomas and Friends) "I want to work with all the engines and Rusty and Elizabeth and....and....and....."

In Chennai, people find it difficult to pronounce his name. So 'Dhruv' become 'Duruvu' or 'Turuvu'(also the Tamil word for grating, like grating coconut) or 'Drew'! So, he has resorted to a new trick.....
Person: "What is your name?"
Button: "Nemo, and this is my mom Dory and my appa Marlin"
Evidently, given our features, we don't look like a Dory or Marlin! Its funny to see the expressions on their faces then.

And at school, his teacher had a strange remark to make about him. Button does not like sitting on the floor for circle time. Apparently, he rubs the floor with his index finger and tells her "The floor is dirty. I'd like to sit on the chair itself, please"! (I do believe in genetics now! And understand how my mom must've felt when my teachers told her the same. Amen!)

Thanksgiving in June!

2011-06-17T01:28:00.000-07:00

Many good things happened this week. Thanksgiving is in order. Especially since next week better be good!

a) I started full-time work at an IT transnational at Chennai in a support function I've been interested in for ages. After a week (although I am still settling in) I haven't had any twinges of doubt. That itself is an achievement!

b) The lovely offspring started school. Thanks to my mom, I've been managing everything (read, she has been managing everything!). Next week will be different. But I'll survive.

c) In a week, I complete half a dozen years of companionship with arguably the most wonderful person this universe has produced... the fact that I think so after so many years of living with him is a miracle!

d) I've decided to enrol for the long distance certification program I was thinking about. After my decision making skills began resembling a pendulam in motion, I just tossed a coin. Am in!

e)This is my 100th post.I've always believed that there aren't any milestones in blogging, but this feels like one. Thank you my beloved blogfriends, my readers... for encouraging me, inspiring me, staying with me, supporting me...I owe you guys :)

Journey of Motherhood

2011-06-08T04:36:00.000-07:00

Button turned 3 last Saturday... how much he has grown in the last 3 years, and how much I've grown! Many thoughts ran through my head, like a PPT presentation on fast-forward.... the stunned silence that filled our house when we discovered that we were going to be parents (Button was a happy accident!), the many sonographs and the doctor visits, the slightly-blurry hospital days, the first feed, the first tooth, the first step, the first fall, the first word.... the list is endless.

When I think back, I wasn't ready for motherhood when I discovered I was pregnant. I was upset and happy at the same time. I knew my life was going to change and perhaps I wasn't ready to let go my party-hopping, wine-guzzling, trigger-happy traveling days. My lovely new job that I 'really really' wanted was certainly going to end in a few months time (as it involved traveling, many con-calls etc.). At the same time, I knew my husband was truly happy and I drew strength from his happiness.

A few short months later Button was lying in my arms. Everybody crooned and laughed and 'wished' their lives could revolve around him... I felt petrified and constricted, I had no choice, my life WAS going to revolve around him. I could handle an irate customer well, but I went to pieces trying to understand my wailing baby.It rained all day for the first 3 months. My maids did not clean well enough. My mom 'did not know' how to handle my new-born well enough! I changed 4 cooks in 4 months. Even my driver did not drive properly (when I don't even know how to start my car!) The worst of my barbed comments were reserved for my husband... he tried hard, and is a lovely father... but just wasn't good enough for me. I was sleep-deprived and wasn't lactating enough...most importantly, my heart didn't seem to be 'overflowing with love' as the books prescribed and fellow bloggers gushed about. I felt inadequate and upset... I am a perfectionist and wanted to be the perfect mom! What's worse, I felt guilty feeling this way.

Months rolled by... the weather changed for the better. My son began smiling at me. The husband did his best to take me out, handle the kid in the evening so I could get some me-time. I began to get comfortable with Button, but would still fret a lot over the smallest of milestones. A strong comparative mentality ruled me... my son hadn't turned over many times today, oh-no,he is going to be behind in his academics..my son did not like potato, oh-no he is going to be laughed at for disliking french fries...my son did not sprout a tooth yet, oh-no he is going to be a slow poke.... my list of worries were pointless and endless. But hindsight is perfect. I would get so much into a frenzy worrying that my husband contracted sympathetic paranoia! Luckily my mom-in-law who visited me then realized I was getting too hemmed into motherhood and suggested getting some help, and luckily, I listened to her.

Initially the help could do nothing right, but Button adored her. She was a bright young girl, quick to learn and wonderful with Button, soft-spoken and incredibly patient... both with him and me!My doc assured me that I wasn't suffering from PPD. I began socializing a little bit more and switched on my phone after many months. Blogging was an incredibly empowering outlet... it was completely me-time on the blog with neither Button nor the husband peering over my shoulder. I returned to my first love - books. I read like a maniac. I healed physically as well and felt stronger.

Once Button turned 10 months old and showed me how much his world revolved around me, I think slowly I began to love him, rather I understood that I did love him. The feeling of happiness at every small gesture from him, the pride at his achievements, the pain when he fell off the bed, the terrible helplessness when he cut his lip, the utter annoyance when he exhibited his stubbornness... hurray! I began to really feel for him.

When he turned 2, my husband took me to Singapore for a holiday.. just him and me....'just like old days', I thought. I developed a fever right at the airport...which went away only after a day of resting in S'pore. And I realized that I was actually missing my baby...all the feelings of being a bad mother leaving him with grandparents and not doing 'my only job' surfaced. Again, the husband ensured that he sorted my feelings out. I returned and took up a part-time, work-from-home option. Juggling motherhood, my house, my job, my marital relationship, my social life(which thankfully was getting a lot better) and best-of-all, my holidays, made me feel more human.. more alive... I felt stronger and happier and a better mother.

We moved to Chennai in Jan this year. Coupled with Button's independence, super-support from my in-laws and my growing confidence, I went on a holiday to Israel with a friend, without my husband or child. I was sure I would miss Button....I was certain I would make myself miserable worrying about whether my household set-up would unravel in the 6 days I was away. But like Gautama Buddha, I found enlightenment in the Holy City. I did not miss Button. I did not miss my domestic set-up. If anything, I only missed my husband occasionally. I did not feel guilty. I came back super-charged up, with a clear sense of purpose. I came back with a crystal clear idea of how my life should be.

I did not need to be a perfect mother. It is okay to give my son chocolate. It is okay to let him be with grandparents who pamper him silly. It is okay to let him watch television for a few minutes every day. It is okay to let him play with his vehicles for more than 10 minutes a day. It is okay to toilet train him at his pace. It is okay to not force him into an imagined rat-race. It is okay to let him get dirty. It is okay to let him fall, mess up, express his anger in words. It is okay to let him be. It is okay to let him grow up at his pace!

I did not need to maintain a perfect house. It is okay to change curtains once a quarter or even after 4 months or 6 months. It is okay to let the house-help take a day or two off to handle their family affairs. It is okay to have dirty corners and cobwebs (even better if they have spiders I could show Button!). It is okay if I forget to salt the rasam or make chapattis. It is okay to eat curd rice or even pizza occasionally. Double okay to eat Maggi and Nutella sandwiches!

I did not need to 'become' a perfect wife. I am. For my husband. I truly am blessed to have him in my life.

I ought to work. Enjoy the stress of deadlines. Complain about my boss. Drink 10 cups of horrible machine coffee. Feel harried about leaving 10 minutes late from home. Worry about my ratings. Fuss about the formatting of my presentation deck. Yell at my laptop for not magically saving my data files.

And so, I listened to Button more. Kissed the husband more. Apologized to my mom for being a difficult daughter. Hugged my sister more. Thanked my in-laws more. Found a job. Smiled at the Universe's abundance.

Fast forward to June 2011. It was time to drop Button at school....I watched him square up his shoulders as he walked in bravely, a few tears finding their way down his cheeks... and I started crying softly... my heart finally overflowed with the love I had been reading about all these months. I AM a good mother I realized. Button loves me for who I am, not who I think I should be. Amen!

Israel Chronicles: The Israel Pensieve

2011-05-27T00:09:00.000-07:00

Lingering thoughts about Israel (before I forget)!

1.Food: Vegetarian food is lovely, especially if you like Hummus, Pita, Babaganoush et al. Too many chickpeas consumed for all meals may have repercussions on a non iron-clad stomach.

The Arab-Palestine veg food is brightly colored especially cauliflowers. A bright lurid pink that one usually spots on bougainvillea shrubs is typically the preferred color for cauliflower stuffing in the falafels. The Israeli Jews have a couple of veg dishes as well. One must-try is the 'Latke'.

If you can imagine potato pancakes served with vegetables you are spot on. If you can't, imagine a south-indian potato bhajji instead, served with sour cream and vegetables on the side... yeah, you've got it. If you still can't imagine how it tastes, visit Jerusalem. Both Israeli Jews and Arabs are liberal with salads and olives in their food. Considering they are all slim and tall, the food is probably worth emulating!

2. Black Jerusalem: The color black hits your eye the moment you step onto the streets, be it near the Walled city or even a modern Mamilla Mall or distant Masada.

Both Jews and Muslims wear the color black - black skirts, black burquas, black overcoats, black shoes.... it is ubiquitous. One morning TP and I had ventured into Mea Shearim (of 'Acts of Faith' fame), an area where very Orthodox Jews live. We thought we had dressed in conservative clothes, in our long printed skirts and full sleeved kurtas and scarves. Needless to say, we stood out like a still in Kill Bill...bold splashes of color in the black and white surroundings!

3. India: Always knew that Gandhi had a greater following in the world outside India, but Shah Rukh Khan and Amitabh Bachan are almost as big as Gandhi! Have heard 'Dil to Pagal Hai' being whistled, 'Eechak Dana' being sung and was even asked to visit a shopkeeper's old dorm in Aligarh University! Announcing that you are Indian also brings many curious questions about availability of Bhole baba's prasad and sly questions about how to source it...as if I'd tell even if I knew. Huh.

4. Politics: All Israelis LOVE to talk about politics... it is almost comical to see the heated discussions, the angry gestures and the strong points of view.

I definitely recommend talking to the common man on the street about his opinion on how the Israel - Palestine conflict ought to be resolved... some of the thoughts are visionary. The conflict has been going on for so long (since 1948) that people have almost resigned to a lack of resolution (any thoughts on the LoC at Kashmir? Especially regarding PoK?) There are strong views, heart-rending personal stories, but still no resolution. Not a happy thought.

5. Surroundings: Some parts of Israel, especially parts of West Jerusalem and Dead Sea public beach area, reminds one of India. Not very clean, people spitting on the roads and arguing loudly. Whereas other parts of Israel - more modern areas of Jerusalem, parts of Nablus and the touristy Masada were spic and span, an example of how we could showcase our rich history. Israel is a bit like the western counties, a bit like Middle East, a bit like India, a bit like nowhere else....overall very hospitable, very travel-friendly and extremely memorable.

8. Pride in Nation:

Most Israelis / Palestinians I spoke to, had a strong sense of their identity, a sense of belonging... love for the land.Some were fanatic, Nationalists to the point of being jingoistic, but most were moderate, just happy to be Israeli, happy to have such a rich cultural heritage. The sense of patriotism combined with the constant presence of soldiers does make one feel the 'Israeliness' in the air. Not just in Jerusalem, all over Israel. Definitely Indians are more reserved in their display of patriotism (I don't doubt the feeling, just the expression).I don't know if we need to shout out our Indianness, but it is worth considering.

7. Prayers:

In Israel, someone is always praying... a church's tolling bells, a muezzin reminding you to bow to God, a bunch of Jews in a synagogue bowing back and forth in prayer, someone telling their beads, a taquiyah (skull cap), a tzitzit (religious shawl), a Bibile, a Koran or the Siddur (Jewish daily prayer book).I am sure if I'd been observant enough I'd've even spotted a Jedi Knight! It is impossible to not reflect upon one's relationship with the Big One up there.

To sum it up, the tagline for travel to Israel said it all.... "Visit Israel, you'll never be the same".

ps: The end of my Israel account. :)

Israel Chronicles: P.A.L.E.S.T.I.N.E. - The West Bank story

2011-05-04T00:15:00.000-07:00

On Day 4, TP and I fulfilled our long time secret desire of traveling to Palestine when we visited Nablus in West Bank(Palestinian Authority). We were part of a guided tour with a company called 'Alternate Tours' (managed by Abu Hassan).We highly recommend him and the tour company.

To give a brief background, Nablus is an olive-rich PA territory, famous for its Olive soaps, communal ovens and Kunafeh. It also gained notoriety as the hub of the second Intifada, early last decade and ever since has been under strict Israeli (Jewish) control. Our tour group consisted of 12 people - 2 Spaniards doing social work in Ramallah, 8 trade unionists from Norway (who had broken off their ties with an Israeli trade Union and were doing a recce of Nablus to decide if they wanted to affiliate with them) and my TP and I(2 Indians, with sketchy knowledge of the Israeli-Palestinian politics, but high on enthusiasm).

Our first stop was at Balata.

A UN refugee camp established in the 1950's,it resembles the dense living conditions of Dharavi in Bombay.We had the opportunity to interact with the community centre head (an American of Palestinian origin)who spoke about the multitude of problems facing Balata, from lack of civic amenities, to lack of job opportunities and lack of space, all leading to a spiral of depression, anger and finally organized violence.

We walked around camp through alleys that barely let us walk in single file, past toilets that were stinking due to water shortage,past vegetable vendors, haggling women,thoughtful old men fresh-faced teenagers furiously typing away on their laptops, old ramshackle cars,

girls playing football…(yes, you read right) GIRLS playing football and young boys discussing the latest football game (it was an Arsenal – Munich Bayern one I think!).The westerners with us were shocked at the living conditions, the two of us Indians were heartened by the indomitable spirit visible in abundance.Every street corner had pictures of martyrs who were killed in their struggle for a free Palestine by the Israeli army. Oh, how common it is to the country- Arab or Jew - to honor their dead and remember their names and faces.

Our tour group then met the Mayor of Nablus (what an honor, what a wonderful insight into Palestinian politics). The building was very similar to any Indian beaurocratic building (not surprising considering Palestine was a British Mandate).

We waited in a conference room which had several pictures, of previous Mayors dating all the way back to the late 1800s! The mayor, bustling with energy and enthusiasm swept into the room a few minutes later. He was interested in understanding our ‘outside’ perspective of Palestine's issues. Palestinian cities have twin cities all over the world, with Stavanger, Norway being a twin to Nablus. Nablus's mayor shared his plans to invite Stavanger's Mayor and some school children on a cultural-exchange program.

The Mayor talked about the current peace process, Norway's role and narrated some ground-level realities that sent chills up my spine.

Israeli settlers (Jews from anywhere in the world) are paid to ‘settle’(or squat) on Palestinian land and practise the Jewish way of life. Adequate comfort is provided through generator sets and borewells, and security through military presence. Palestinian land is encroached upon by building fences and ‘declared’ the property of the Jewish settler there. Woe betide any Palestinian who decides to contest this hostile takeover… he could spend his fortune in a legal process and his life in jail. If settlers refuse to ‘settle’ in these lands, and the land happens to be too close to the Israeli border (decided by the Israelis), the land could be declared ‘no-man’s zone’.

Recently (just a couple of days before we visited Nablus), an Israeli settler’s 4 year old kid had been killed.

Immediately several Palestinians had been rounded up, put in jails, their families traumatized, road blocks established around Nablus, Balata’s water supply cut off for 3 days and yet,no confessions. Finally the murderer turned out to be a Thai migrant worker who wanted to return to Thailand (against his Israeli employer’s wishes) and wanted his salary (due to him for over 6 months). On being refused time and again, he lost his marbles (when his kid lost his life back home due to lack of funds)and in an act of revenge, he killed his employer’s child. And so many Palestinians wronged!

The Mayor said something that still resonates in my ears. He said “I only own the land I stand on. If I want to buy my neighbor’s house, I have to take permission (from the Israelis). If I want to build an extra storey for my newly married son,

I have to take permission (from the Israelis).If I want to dig the ground for water to feed my newborn, I have to take permission (from the Israelis).” The Mayor was hopeful about change in the near future. All Palestinians were. All Palestinians are. When you hit rock-bottom, there is no way but up, ain’t it? He talked about the power of youth and Facebook, and how Egyptian youngsters had harnessed the power of the internet for a good cause. He expressed hope for a ‘Final Settlement’ in Obama's tenure(ah,the man of ‘Change’ and ‘Hope’!)

We walked around the market later.

The market is a traditional Arab souk. Long winding alleys, smiling men in the their traditional kaffiyehs, selling everything from headscarves to spices to hardware equipment... and curious about the non-Caucasian tourist women! 2 brown-skinned women with Indian features can probably pass off as Arabs…the moment we proclaimed we were Indian, it would be greeted with smiles and claps and loud cheers, sometimes extolling Gandhi (do you remember him?), sometimes Amitabh Bachhan, sometimes SRK, and surprise, sometimes Shahid Kapoor!

We had men gallantly singing “Abhi na jao chodke” to “Yeh chand sa roshan chehra” to “Dil to pagal hai”! Yet, we NEVER felt unsafe, never felt harassed. I think Indian men could learn from Palestinians how to be chivalrous and walk the tough line of being pleasantly charming, never flirtatious or annoying. We sampled the world-famous Nabulsi Kunafeh, a lovely dish made of cheese that just melts in your mouth. Bought some scarves (how could we not!), olive soap and zatar(an ingredient in several Lebanese hung-curd based dishes).

My hotel manager (a LOVELY guy called Sammy) hails from a place near Nablus. When he saw our gift of a plate of original Nabulsi Kunafeh he almost kissed us(no he didn’t though!). He said something that shocked us.

He hasn’t been to Nablus in over twenty years and hasn’t met his relatives there in all that time. He said that no matter how tasty the kunafeh in Jerusalem is, it isn’t Nabulsi and could never be authentic! He said it was probably easier to visit the North Pole than Nablus! The (American)community centre manager in Balata had talked about entry barriers too and I hadn’t believed him then. Any American / Canadian of Palestinian origin cannot just decide to visit his relatives – he might be sent back at the airport itself(no immigration clearance). If he landed in Amman, Jordan, then at the Jordanian-Israeli border(so close, yet so far).

In fact, Israeli roads are built in the West Bank area with so many check posts that traffic could halt sometimes for days on end.Villages that would barely take 20 minutes by road could take over 8 hours due to checkpost clearances and round-about travel routes.In contrast, a Jew could declare his religion in Greenland or Pluto for that matter, and an El Al ticket and Isareli citizenship is guaranteed and the country open to him for travel and living. Such disparity based on religion in today's time and age is upsetting.

My take at the end of the trip? I think the Western media has got it all WRONG. I think more than half the world has got it wrong. At a political level, the Palestinian land belongs to the Arabs too.

The Israelis are doing unto the Palestinians the injustices that were wrought onto them - first by getting the Palestinians into today's ghettos (by imposing rules in PA cities) and then possibly by ousting them out of their country.My fervent prayers for peace to prevail. At a social level, I hope for better understanding of the Arab culture by the Westerners.

They are just as fun loving and courteous and polite as a Malaysian or Chinese or Japanese or Canadian.And large hearted.Arab women do hold positions of power, play soccer, use MAC lipsticks, wear designer shoes and swoon over Bradley Cooper.So there!The world would be a better place with more understanding and open-mindedness for diversity, ain't it?

Moral of the story: Hope reigns supreme. The defining picture of my visit to West Bank is this one -

a lovely green shrub smiling at the world,enjoying the sun,despite growing in a stone building....reflective of its caretakers, its country. Despite all the violence and political unrest, the hope and love in the country is incredible. A must visit.

Princess? Duchess you mean!

2011-04-29T19:37:00.000-07:00

The Royal Wedding, yesterday was exquisite. Thanks to my fascination with all things Royal and Wedding, I was a prime contender to watch the televised proceedings on BBC. Button was asleep (thanks to the time difference) and I watched the ceremony fully, eating a delicious cheesecake to celebrate.

Button woke up just in time to watch the Duke and new Duchess of Cambridge walk up the aisle to the lovely 1902 horse carriage. (And gave me the ultimate compliment)... "Mamma and Appa got married and are coming back home"

(some girl will be proud of being his partner one day!)

Princess

2011-04-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

Button has begun correlating his storybook characters to real life a lot, of late. Our car is Lightening McQueen. My squint-eyed baby-helper is the 'evil stepmother' (poor thing!) and my morning helper is Noo-noo (from Teletubbies, because she swabs the house). I never really paid heed to him, until I dressed up to go out with my husband yesterday. In my flowing skirt and a lovely embroidered top, I twirled around. Button took one look at me, smiled and said "Mamma, you look like Cinderella, a princess'. Thank you sweetheart!

Israel Chronicles: In memoriam - Yad Va Shem

2011-04-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

People react to disasters in different ways. In India, the Independence struggles, the oppressive regimes have all but been forgotten. Because our primary religions (I mean Hinduism, its offshoots and Islam)teach us to be 'fatalist'.

We forget (in time forgive) and move on. Not the Jews. NOT EVER. The holocaust remains a blight on human history and the Jews are never going to forget it, never going to let anyone forget it, and in some respects rightly so. In the 19th century, the Jews had assimilated well into the cultures of various countries and yet managed to retain their individuality especially in terms of religious rituals. Enter Hitler, and the final blow on their individuality and safety was struck. Did they lose their minds? No. The Jews are a strong race. They took their lives into their own hands, created Israel (it is another matter that the Palestinian Arabs got a raw deal out of it, more on this later) and created a magnificent memorial to their loved ones who were unjustly dealt with during the holocaust.

The Yad Va Shem, meaning a memorial to the tribes of Shem (son of Noah from whom the Jews descended) is a tribute to all the Jews who lost their lives in the Shoah(Hebrew for Holocaust).

Its not a museum, more an interactive 'memorial' (for lack of a better word) that lets you FEEL the horror of it all. For example, you walk over a glass display floor and when you look down you can see thousands of pairs shoes underneath. These are shoes found at Dachau (some of them contributed by survivors or their families). You 'feel' the sadness and the enormity hits you like a physical blow almost. Yad Va Shem is systematically constructed in chronological order, with the horror mounting further and further, till at some point you do end up breaking down and wondering what the point of all the senseless targeted execution was. The grey walls and black benches add to the bleak atmosphere. The audio guide that we took with us(depositing our passports at the entrance) helped us get a context. The audio guide is EXCELLENT and I highly recommend it. At Yad Va Shem, there are several TV screens with live depositions and accounts from survivors. Heart-rending. I actually was shocked beyond tears.

We meandered through the events into an Aushwitz death-wagon and then I felt stifled. I walked through the rest of the sections trying to squelch the growing nausea(of the horrors) into a lovely section about the 'Avenue of the Righteous'. This section was built to honor non-Jews who believed in humanity in those tough times and saved many many Jews, the most popular of them being Oskar Shindler. (Nanny Sandra Samuel to Baby Moshe, of 26/11 fame is recognized as a 'Righteous Gentile'). In the gardens outside, several of them are honored with a tree planted for their service.

Finally one walks into a room with a deep well. The well reflects walls and walls of box folders. One folder for each person who perished during the Shoah. More than 2 million folders are yet to be identified and the space for them is blank. The Jews believe in knowing their ancestry and it pains them immensely that several of their ancestors had perished without survivors or records. It is an unbelievably touching memorial reflecting the resilience and defiance of the Jewish race, not to mention their love for their brethren and meticulousness in preserving their memory.

My usually talkative TP had now forgotten all of the 6 languages she speaks. In silence we walked through (the ubiquitous souvenir shop) into the gardens and into a memorial for children. Thats when the tears started rolling (and didn't stop for a long time).

It is a lovely breath-stopping memorial to the little ones who were killed before they could see the world for what it was. Perhaps the world then was bleak, perhaps it was not the best of times for the Jews, but they had their parents' love and the support of their community, and never lived to see it. The memorial is a walk-through memorial - a dark room with thousands of mirrors reflecting one single glowing light. It refers to the lovely children who 'became stars' and are watching over the world. There is a solemn voice recording that intones the names of the children, their age and place of murder giving the place a chilly overtone (we got goosebumps for sure). Strong Jew pride and spirit of 'we shall not forget', isn't it?

If we - Indians, Hindus, young-enough to have never witnessed any holocaust or oppression, living a yuppie-privileged life, moderate in thought - were moved beyond words, imagine how an 18 year old Jewish military recruit feel? After the shock and sadness passes away, am sure it would be replaced by patriotic fervor. The Jews as a race believe in remembering, and passing on the remembrances. Yad Va Shem is the pinnacle of this belief to preserve their memories for posterity.

"And to them will I give in my house and within my walls a memorial and a name (a "yad vashem")... that shall not be cut off."

(Isaiah, chapter 56, verse 5)

Dazed, TP and I walked straight into a mall to shop away our sorrow.

And shop we did! We went to a local supermarket(Ramy Levi), bought several edible delights for our kids and went back to the hotel. We returned to a mall for dinner and had a lovely chocolate drink from (I highly recommend) a shop called Max Brenner. Went to bed, thinking about our past, the sacrifices our brave soldiers are making to protect our borders and how little we do to honor them, and feeling excited about our day trip the next day to Palestine (West Bank, Israel).

Moral: It is important to wear sturdy shoes always. It is more important to remember what is important to us.

World Cup and the lessons

2011-04-05T05:03:00.000-07:00

The World Cup Cricket 2011 is one of the momentous occasions that defines our lives. Similar to the magnitude of the Tsunami or Twin Towers bombing, thankfully HAPPY in nature.

We'll always remember and talk about what we were doing then... at a pub, at home, in bed, with the husband, with someone else... whatever. We'll remember the tears of joy when Dhoni hit the last six, the tears in Sachin's eyes, Gary's quiet joy, Virat's lovely comment... Even the smaller details will stay with us for many years to come...Poonam Pandey, the dirt streak on Dhoni's shirt during his batting innings, Sreesanth's hair, 'wicked' Malinga, the man in the audience who had painted his entire body, Rajni and Aamir together (and the couplets about Dhoni, Rajini and Gajini)and the euphoric crowds.

In an era of disillusionment with the Government,with the maid,with the American President,the hairdresser,the boss,

the Saravana Bhavan dosas,the admission process at school, the media, the rat race, the rats..... everything, Dhoni has given us the only thing that seems rarer than flowers in a desert - HOPE and OPTIMISM. The sight of the entire team carrying Sachin has re-instilled faith that 'Indian' values of love and respect for an older person (player) still live. Dhoni shaving off his head the next morning has re-given meaning to 'faith' and prayers. Kirsten choosing to go back home reminds us that 'karma' is king, what follows is not for us to decide. Harbhajan Singh thanking the whole world has reaffirmed that vote of thanks is best short, maybe 15 seconds or so! The Government offering different slabs of money to the team has re-confirmed us that in India you have to be 'seen' working. The flag doing the victory laps around the ground brought back memories of childhood pledges to 'do our best for the nation' (are we?).

Thank you cricket team. Thank you for the cup. Thank you for the lessons. And thank you for proving that Chenin Blanc Chardonnay can be consumed in the afternoon too.

Israel Chronicles: Dead Sea is ALIVE!

2011-04-02T05:04:00.001-07:00

On Day 2 of our wonderful trip, TP and I got a little adventurous.

We took a state-run bus from the central bus stop (that got bombed a few days later) to a place called Masada. Masada is the site of a fortress where a group of Jews fought literally to their last breath to fend off their attackers. Several army contingents in Israel go by the motto "Masada shall never fall again". The fortress is a glowing example of how a historical site is brought into today's context and woven into the lives of the Jewish people. Again, several military troops and more 'Jewish' lessons.

I almost wept for the opportunities we have in India (and do not 'use') to preserve our history. The (Masada) fortress is splendid, undoubtedly. Situated on the top of a mountain, it has a superb 360 deg view. It has a bathing chamber, a synagogue, several storerooms and cisterns, but well, after traveling to the Daulatabad fortress and the off-beat Chitradurga Fort, it was difficult for me to be impressed (note, I haven't even mentioned Red Fort or Agra Fort). All our forts also have the same features. What is common to these forts and is remarkable is how well they've withstood the ravages of time and what architectural marvels they are.

Interestingly, all tourist points in Israel exit into a Souvenir shop. Carried away by the multi-media presentations, well laid out paths, excellent tour guides and signs, well maintained restrooms and the overwhelming 'Jew' pride, most tourists spend a bomb in here... we had a lovely time walking around of course.

We took a bus from Masada to the lovely Ein Bokek.... DEAD SEA!!!

It is a beautiful spectacle indeed...blues ranging from aquamarine to lapis lazuli all the way to sapphire and a royal blue, several people were playing around. My TP and I quickly changed in (the thoughtfully provided) shower rooms and rushed to the sea. We couldn't wait to test if we'd really float... and float we did! Dead sea has always made it to the list of places I want to visit before I die, and I am so glad I got to float. After gingerly stepping past the salt crystals on the tiny shore, I waded into the water, and could barely walk! The water just thrusts you upward and you just float! It is almost supernatural and a bit eerie, a bit lovely, a bit scary and a bit exciting.

We had tea at this lovely shop where India was given a positively glowing vote by everyone. Apparently most Israelis visit India(because it is cheap and thanks to Bhole baba ka prasad!) and love the hospitality, culture and Indian food(sadly, no mention of Indian women, but after seeing some of the Israeli mothers, understandably too!)

We headed back to Jerusalem and then out to Mamilla mall for a bit of shopping.

With 2 women what do you expect? My TP went into every shop and I did what I like to do best, take pictures and observe the people walking past. Going past the black coats et al, Israelis (especially the Jews) go everywhere with their kids - Malls, Restaurants, Rest rooms... where not?Missed Button for a few seconds then.

With lighter wallets, smiles on our faces and food in our bellies, we headed back to Addar, ready to crash.

Moral of the story: Never miss an occasion to shop, never miss an occasion to announce you are Indian!

CSAAM April'11 - My son's childhood shall remain INNOCENT, I vow

2011-04-01T21:56:00.000-07:00

My naughty 3 year old son who will be going to school soon, here is what I do to ensure that his belief in humanity remains. Some of the precautions are for safety's sake, not just to prevent abuse.

a)Since his first birthday I have been telling him that all 'chaddi' parts are not to be touched by anyone except mamma, papa and his grandparents. Maids are allowed to clean him but only in the presence of above mentioned relatives.

b)If an ayaah or helper cleans his private parts in school, I ask him to recollect whether he was cleaned at playschool or not, and by whom and whether he cried or ran away during the cleaning process. He is not yet 3 and not able to articulate well, but I watch out for these signs. If he says he cried,I check him for a rash, if there are none, I tell the teacher the next day that he was not handled properly.

c)I tell him atleast thrice a week that the driver or cook or watchman or anyone else is NOT allowed to touch his 'chaddi' parts.

d)I may sound paranoid, but I don't let him travel alone by car or even with his maid. One of the grandparents or parents HAS to accompany him.

e)Button is normally not a touchy-feely-cuddly child and I do not encourage him to become one. One day he will be older and he will have a girlfriend with whom he can be touchy-feely-cuddly!

f)Button does not like being completely naked, and I don't encourage him either.

g)When I leave Button alone with the maid, I drop in earlier sometimes, ask my neighbor to walk in at other times. Now at Chennai, my mom-in-law drops in too. ALL surprise visits.

h)My husband and I always reward Button for being open and speaking his mind. My husband also recounts his day and listens to me doing the same in the presence of Button, and we encourage him to do the same

i) Last but definitely important, is mental abuse. Not just physical abuse. I correct my maid's language almost incessantly. All improvements in her vocabulary are duly complimented, even rewarded. Even listening to bad language can change cause mental distress. I do reprimand usage of negative or 'f' words and I try to watch only child-friendly shows in his presence on TV.

As is evident, I feel strongly about the subject. The bottomline is that I cannot drive away ALL the wolves, but I can at least give him the knowledge of how to spot one and the faith that his parents are there to love and support him always. .

Israel Chronicles: Old IS Gold!

2011-03-28T06:10:00.000-07:00

TP and I had decided on a loose itinerary before leaving for Israel based on our reading and our determination of what was a must-do for each of us. As per plan, we set off on a walking tour in the Old City. I highly recommend the Zion Walking Tours, though by Indian standards it seems steep (at approx 1000INR per person).(http://zionwt.dpages.co.il/) Our guide (coincidentally named 'Shalom') welcomed us on the tour.

We walked through the very private Armenian Quarters, soaking in the warmth and embrace of the Old City.

The Old City was built sometime in the 1500s and has a high wall all around it. Of the 4 quarters, the Armenian Quarters is most secluded. In it live Christians who practise the religion as per their very Orthodox church. The residents leave the Quarters for work but return by early evening, when the Quarters are physically locked.(Frost's 'The Wall' anyone?)

Some glimpses from outside took us to a world that I'd imagined from the Ukranian Fairy Tales my dad had bought for me when I was 8... women wearing shawls, men with Fez-like hats and black coats and speaking in a tongue that was strange, fascinating and interesting at the same time.

We then walked into the Jewish Quarters. In speech, and perhaps in belief, every Jew I met is highly 'Jewish', which can be loosely translated into anti-Arab (and therefore, anti-Muslim). The average man on the road will talk about how the Jordanian king razed down his grandfather's tombs, or how a Palestinian Arab shot his nephew or how the Muslim Kings built Al-Aksa on their Holy Temple.

A disclaimer here - please bear with my if the next couple of posts seem very Jewish, I shall present the Arab point of view later (when I narrate our visit to a West Bank PA Territory). But for now, let me reiterate that you can almost FEEL the Jewish character on the streets, especially in the Jewish Quarters of the Old City. Most Jews observe the tenets of their religion, growing their sideburns long, wearing a tzitzit (sacred thread) around their waist and their traditional kippah (skull cap). We walked through several interesting ancient structures like the Cardo, the Western Wall Tunnels and finally reached the Western Wall. During our walk our guide freely 'cursed' King Hussein of Jordan and believed it was his right because he fought in a 'war' against him...and my guide was a well-traveled 'liberal'(also his words)!

I can do a few posts on just the Western Wall. The atmosphere in the Western Wall complex is unbelievable. Tirupati perhaps comes close, but not really. Its quieter, more grandiose (no shrine, no idol, no priest, no collection boxes) and apart from the wall, you can see black everywhere(except for the military). The reverberations and energy one feels in the place is immense. The Wall is the culmination of 3 warring religions. The Jews,as per the tenets of their religion, have only one Holy temple(which only their high priest can enter) and several synagogues(for the average Jew to pray in).The temple was built to house the Ark of the Covenant (for more, pls watch Indiana Jones!) and the Foundation Stone (from which the Earth originated and from which Adam was made).

The Muslims also believe in the same Foundation Stone. So do several sects of Christians. Several centuries ago, the Arabs (being more powerful then) built a sacred mosque over the Foundation Stone, called Al-Aksa (one of their 3 holiest shrines, along with Mecca and Medina).The wall closest to the Foundation Stone is the

Western Wall(also called the Wailing Wall, the Holy Wall).The devotion there is touching, Jews from other parts of the world break down in tears, children keep quiet and recite the passages they know from The Torah and men solemnly gaze at the Wall.The sanctity or divine presence is perhaps the faith, hope people repose in the wall for a better tomorrow.

We walked on from the Western Wall via the Cardo(a magnificent Roman structure)to the Christian Quarters. While it does look like the Jewish Quarters, it is not as bustling or as traditional... until one reaches the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

Queen Helena (mother of heathen King Constantine) built the Church to honour the last 5 stations of the Christ on his final journey. The spot where his body was prepared after his crucification and the place where he was crucified bear similar attestation to devotion... candles, tears, silent prayers and a strong sense of a divine presence. Again, for the un-religious, I feel it is just the faith that manifests itself as divinity.

We wound up with a brief tour of the Arab Quarters, more a market. Our 'Jewish' guide, who spoke excellent Arabic (business is never confused with personal belief!) gave us some vignettes such as how the Church of Holy Sepulchre was literally a battleground with several Christian sects fighting over ownership and now each of the 'winning' sects have a few square feet each! Also, that the key of the Church is owned by a Muslim family which lives nearby. Finally, as we wound up, he expressed hope for Israel returning 'rightfully' to the Jews.

While we walked around we saw several Army recruits carrying their backpacks and machine guns! Its unnerving seeing 18 year olds walking around absorbing Jewish history and the jingoistic spiel doled out by their instructors swinging their machine guns like water bottles! But this is how the nationalistic spirit is driven in and surrounded by 'hostile' states, Israel does need it.

I have to say, these kids do look rather dashing (do I sound like Mrs.Robinson now?!) in their military fatigues and long sideburns. In fact ALL Jewish sites we went to, had atleast fifty or so military recruits (complete with machine guns) imbibing their ethos. Makes me think, it may be good for India to send all our army recruits to Jalianwala Bagh and Red Fort and perhaps Srinagar and Arunachal Pradesh.God knows we need to get a national spirit going.

After the walk, we indulged in a lovely Hummus and salad meal. The salad portions are huge and come with dips (labneh, baba ganoush). Lots of chick peas. At about midnight we reached a desolate parking lot, the starting point of a guided midnight bike ride. (http://www.jerusalembiking.com/) 2 South Indian women at 12 in the night at sub zero temperatures? (with teeth chattering and eyes watering) started praying to Tirupati Balaji that somehow the thing is called off (high on enthusiasm, low on warm clothing). HE is powerful, I kid you not. Coincidentally,the other participants cancelled and we gracefully demurred a private tour and came back with a free T Shirt to remember our midnight cab ride to the parking lot.But if you visit in summer, it is surely worth it. The guide and contact person are just so wonderful.The upside? The Parking lot (in an area called Talipiyot) has the loveliest look out of Jerusalem by night... all sparkling and lit up.

Moral of our day? : Warm clothes and good shoes are a must anywhere. Men (i mean people) can get carried away by perceived past slights and behave as though what happened over a thousand years ago can affect their rational judgement now.

Israel Chronicles: Israel Is Real!

2011-03-24T19:25:00.000-07:00

Taking the first step out of Ben Gurion airport, the first thing 2 Indian overworked mothers do? Behave like 5 yr olds let loose in a candy shop! TP and I let loose a few whoops and some tribal jinga-la-la-ho steps and sobered up enough to hunt for a cab... being a quasi-Western nation, Israel of course does not have helpful 'bhaiyyas' to carry your luggage... to cut a long story short, we took a cab to our hotel.

We stayed in East Jerusalem. Now there is a road in Jerusalem which bifurcates East and West Jerusalem.East Jerusalem was captured by Jordan when Israel was recognized as a Jewish state by the British Mandate in 1948. It was recaptured by Israel in the 6 day war in the late 60's. Perhaps because of Jordanian rule or perhaps due to its proximity to Al-Aksa, East Jerusalem is primarily Arab dominated whereas West Jerusalem is Jew-driven.... and we stayed in Arab dominated East.

We stayed in a fantastic hotel called 'Addar'. Would I have thought glowingly of it had I traveled with my son? Perhaps not.

But for 2 women travelers it was perfect. It had a tiny bed room with 2 single beds and a separate living room complete with a kitchenette and even a tiny dining table! TP crashed once we checked in, and I(with my OCD to set up a 'system') rummaged around my suitcase for a couple of hours!

When I looked out of the window for my first glimpse of Jerusalem, I had to remind myself to breathe.

The entire city stretched out golden....most houses and buildings in Jerusalem are built of some kind of stone that reflect the morning sun rays with a golden shimmer... clean and silent, yet resonating with ancient voices and a character that is hard to translate into words.

When we set off to visit the old city, the first sight that we remember in Jerusalem was cabbages the size of melons!Vegetables so fresh that had my grandfather come with me,

he'd've insisted on carrying home a sack. Burqa-clad women speaking perfect English blasted the first myth that the west-dominated media feed us...more on this later.....the Old City beckoned us majestically. A bleached red-fort like wall rose into the sky... and we entered through the Damascus gate.

The Old City is a walled area, about 1 sq. km divided purely on basis of religion into 4 quarters - Arab, Jew, Armenian and Christian. Given our hotel location (and perhaps our affiliation, but I am getting ahead of myself!) we entered the Arab quarter and were shocked. You'd think India would prepare you enough for noisy bargaining crowds, colorful stalls and disregard for any orderly movement, but it doesn't. Yet the Arab quarter isn't difficult to navigate, it is just so colorful, so lovely, yet without the filth and jostling of Indian bazaars and thankfully sans the humidity! As we walked through the Old City towards the Jaffa Gate (the entrance to the Jewish Quarters),TP and I fell in love.....

Moral of the Story: Always pack light! Always remember the moment you fall in love.

Israel Chronicles: All-well at El-Al

2011-03-22T22:20:00.000-07:00

D-Day finally arrived. My travel partner (referred to as TP) and I literally bounded to the international airport in Bombay to fly to Tel Aviv. Did not realize that Mr.Murphy was hanging on my back a-la betaal. Our very entry into the airport (involving a simple procedure of flashing the passport and ticket) took us half an hour. And then the El-Al drama began. Israel as a nation was founded as a country for Jews. And non-Jew Asians being notorious squatters(read illegal immigrants) are subjected to extra scrutiny at the airport itself.

We waited for almost 40 minutes before they called us in for questioning – at two different tables. It was like some tandem competition – any question that my TP answered differently from me would be put forth to me again and again and again, faster and faster each time… now I had no idea what my TP had said, so the answers they got from me were the same... again and again!I felt as though I was in a Hollywood movie, being interrogated by an FBI agent! The supervisor came in after his minions 'failed' to 'extract' top-secret info from me.He tried interrogating me to see if it really made sense for 2 Indian mothers to leave their children behind and travel (of all the countries) to Israel… my retort “Why Not” left them stumped.

Finally after almost 45 minutes of intensive questioning, (during when I noticed 2 fellow travelers being asked to leave), the El Al guys (who I think were Mossad agents getting trained!) checked my profile online and 'almost' figured that I wasn’t going to bomb Israel or steal the Wailing Wall or liberate Palestine or more probably immigrate to Israel as a domestic help. Finally, they asked me one last question “Why only Jerusalem, why not Bethleham”. At this juncture, I lost my cool and went into my 'bhaashan' mode....I 'declaimed' that I had no ulterior motive and as a practising Hindu my attempts to understand other religions deserved applause, not reproach. Also, I was contributing to their country’s travel industry, so they ought to welcome me with a glass of Israeli wine, rather than interrogate me. Tired of my tirade (or perhaps convinced), the supervisor finally ‘approved’ my travel and I got my ticket to the Holy Land.

TP and I literally ran through security (wasting precious time with a STUPID travelex chap who insisted that as per law I could only convert 7500 INR per passport, thereby increasing my stress levels) and finally made it to the flight in time.

El-Al as an airline is quite decent. Tasty airline food for a change, pleasing crew, ontime departure and arrival and terrible Israeli wine!

One more round of questioning followed in Israel where a moron stamped my visa with a ‘work permit’ stamp. Some more interrogation (yawn!) Once the officer-in-charge figured we were in Israel on a holiday, she almost hugged us for our chutzpah and ‘shalomed’ us to Israel! The grand journey begins…. ‘

Moral of the story: Always eat before you reach the international airport, otherwise you may eat dinner (however good and hot) at 2.00 a.m.the next day.

Travel - Daddy vs. Mommy

2011-03-11T19:12:00.000-08:00

Scenario 1: Dad is leaving for a week's travel. What does he do?
a) Pack his bags.
b) Send his contact details to wife.
c) Kiss wife and son goodbye.

Scenario 2: Mom is leaving for a week's travel. What does she do?
a) Prepare child for mommy's absence for a week - TOUGH job.
b) Ensure that groceries are stocked up for a week.
c) Pay all utility bills, so that there are no disruptions in her absence.
d) Store the valuables safely, knowing that cupboards could be left open.
e) Instruct daily help on the 'NO LEAVE FOR A WEEK' policy and promise rich rewards if they are punctual and do their work without constant instruction.
f) Call child's teacher, doctor and neighbors to be on standby - just in case child is sick or dad is late or forgets to pick him up!
g) Fix back-ups
- telling (mom's)mom how the house JUST cannot run if she doesn't come for atleast 3 days to look after child.
- sigh to (mom's)mom-in-law that her help is most necessary as her son would be hard-pressed for time handling work, child and house.

h)Pack his bags.
i) Send his contact details to wife.
j) Kiss wife and son goodbye.

This is true in every woman's life, give or take a few activities. Having said that, I must add disclaimer that I can actually leave my house to my husband and travel knowing well that he does a good job if he puts his mind to it!

Women - my heart-felt salaams to you. May your feet travel as much as your heart does!

"THE" school interview

2011-03-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

Button's letter inviting us for an 'Interaction' arrived a few days ago (for a place in a really prestigious school in Chennai) and we've been trying to teach Button the art of answering (with hilarious results). D-Day arrived this morning and here are some Buttonisms.

Teacher: (pointing to a car) "What is this?"
Button: (thinks, thinks)
Mamma: "What IS this?" (Mentally getting worried, because my son can identify makes of almost all cars on the rooad, and therefore getting stressed at his silence)
Teacher: (possibly thinking that the child does not know) "Is this a bus?"
Button: "No, I want to know if it is an Audi or is it a BMW?"
Teacher: (stumped) "I will check and let you know!"

Teacher: "Could you please sing a song?"
Button :"No. I don't FEEL LIKE singing a song now"!

Teacher: (pointing to a duck and duckling)"Do you know what this is?"
Button: "Yes, it is a duck. This is a mother duck."
Teacher: "And this is a baby duck."
Button: "Yes it is a duckling".

Teacher: "Let me draw a star for you. You've done well."
Button: "Thank you." (pauses) "Please draw moon for the star to play with"

Bottomline: He is IN. (praise be to the Almighty). We've paid the fees. I can leave for my holiday to Israel in peace, I've earned it!

Overheard: Check the price

2011-03-07T21:05:00.000-08:00

My maid talking to her son on her cellphone "Yes, I know we are usually loyal to 'two leaves'. But check the price being offered by the 'sun' group. If they offer us at least a thousand more, along with clothes, promise them the entire street's votes. Otherwise, let us stick to 'two leaves'. At least they pay us immediately"

The state of our country!

Govinda Govinda

2011-03-01T05:16:00.000-08:00

As per our family's custom, we decided to let Button adopt the bald look again. Some trips are just jinxed from the start... this was one of them. First, the husband went a day early on work to Tirupati. Like Murphy would have it, the driver who drove Button and I to Tirupati decided to drive to Bangalore instead. A journey that normally takes 3 - 4 hours from Chennai took us 6 hours! Button cooperated brilliantly, otherwise he may have been witness to his mom murdering the driver.

We checked into Fortune Kences hotel at Tirupati (supposedly one of the best hotels). Balls! Read my rant at Tripadvisor.

In Tirupati, as was taught to him, Button repeated ad nauseum that "he was going to give ummachi (God) all his hair" and that "he would not cry, he would be happy". One cold morning at 4.30 a.m. the barber did away with Button's lovely curly locks, and true to his promise, he did not cry, even utter a word of protest.

However, when we took him into the public bathroom to bathe him, he HOWLED and how! He yelled to anyone who'd listen that the floors were dirty(!) and that mamma get 'mausi' to do 'poncha' immediately. We managed to bribe him to take a quick bath with promises of chocolates and ambulances and proceeded to the darshan lines.

And then the long wait in the queue began... although we were in the Rs.300/- queue, we waited from 5.30a.m. to get darshan at 10.00 a.m. With a two and half year old, its hardly my idea of piety or spirituality! But Button got into the groove yelling 'Govinda Govinda' in the ears of anyone who dared nod off in the long queue of waiting devotees!

We'd been telling Button that Venkateshwara being the God of Plenty would bless him with wisdom, riches, health and prosperity. To simplify these words, we told him Lord Balaji would give him "many-many" of everything. When my dad asked him on his return what God would give him in exchange for Button's hair, his reply was "Many many taxis. 10 for each hand!" Amen!!

Resolution # 1

2011-02-09T23:05:00.001-08:00

2011 dawned many moons ago. And this year my resolution is to stick to my resolutions! The first of them was to resurrect my dormant blog. The blog has ceased to be just an outlet for penning down my thoughts. It remains (and here comes my B-school training) -
1. A diary of memories that my mind finds difficult to store of late.
2. A place to leave something that is quintessentially 'me' for posterity. Like my mom's letters to my dad, or my grandfather's diaries or my grandmother's diamonds!
3. A wonderful place to make and keep new friends. I already met a blogging mamma and it was oh-so-wonderful to bond with her.
4. An ode to my family.
5. A fulfillment of a resolution to do something creative. While it may not be in the league of artists and writers, it gives me joy, and so it remains a testament to my creativity.

Thank you 2011 for arriving. Good luck!

Sabbatical

2009-08-10T04:44:00.000-07:00

With Button's school and a growing list of school related activities,I barely manage to find time to blog ( more importantly the inner energy and enthusiasm for blogging seems to have ebbed). Although the wish to blog is dormant at the moment, I have resolved to come back after a few weeks.

All my blog friends, thanks for bringing sunshine to my life. I shall keep checking on you and leaving comments as usual.

As for Button, he is so full of energy and new developments every day, that I find each day whizzing past.

Take care and as the big man said "hasta la vista baby" :)

...the Birthday Party

2009-07-05T05:23:00.000-07:00

6th of June dawned bright and sunny (thank God!) We had invited about 60 people of which about 50 turned up. We had called people over for lunch as we thought it would give us ample time to catch up with our friends. The menu was simple. A few Maharashtrian specialities for starters (including my favourite kothambir vadi), dal-chawal and a couple of subzis for lunch and gulab jamun and cake for dessert. We had ordered a 'Mickey Mouse' cake for Button as it was the only cartoon character he could identify at that time.

My mom and I wanted to "do" something ourselves and decided to make several posters to make the event even more special. I designed several posters that I got printed out on photo-paper. We pasted them onto hand made paper and made some designs all around. We discovered a shop called 'Hobby Ideas' in Mahalaxmi, Mumbai and became kids-in-a-candy-shop again! We shopped for several hundreds, including punches that could punch holes in a certain design, paints, metallic colors, stickers, rub-on embossings and what not! Reminded me of the olden-golden days when SUPW used to be so boring :)

Button was slightly cranky at the party as everybody wanted to hold him. The other kids seemed to have a ball though. They had a blast especially with the balloons (we had ordered about 300 balloons to be put up and a 100 more to be left lying loose in a corner).

All in all, we were happy at having been able to thank Button's well-wishers in Bombay.

Button, I wish you happiness and health. May you learn to take decisions on your own and stand by them. May you grow up to be healthy and wise, happy and nice. May you have courage to do the right thing always, even if it means lesser money or popularity. God Bless sweetheart!

Sun shining through...

2009-07-05T04:46:00.000-07:00

...after two days of continuous rains, which alternatively left me in high spirits and black depressive moods, the sun came through just an hour ago... and here is the view from my bedroom.

June just flew past....

2009-07-01T22:57:00.000-07:00

...what with two birthday celebrations, "annual" check up, school and the horrible monsoons.....

In a bid to recollect Button's first b'day, I jot down my memories.

I slogged my b^tt off. Thankfully my parents were here to take care of me :) We could not celebrate Button's "star" b'day on 26th of May as my husband's grandmom passed away. We conducted his "aayush homam", "ganapathi homam" and "navagraha homam" on his date of birth instead. We dressed him up in a silk dhoti and he DID look like a li'l Krishna! It was a lovely auspicious occasion and the traditionalist in me reveled at the chants and "havan" and awesome food!

On the 6th(which was a saturday), we called a few friends over to a restaurant(nearby) for lunch(about 50 people turned up). The invitation read as follows...

Dear Aunty and Uncle,

I turn 1 this year.To fill you in on my progress over the last year, I can now stand holding amma's hand, even take a couple of wobbly steps, though I prefer crawling. I love music, especially this uncle called A R Rahman (who composed two of my favourite songs 'Masakali' and 'Ringa ringa ringa'). I love rasam rice and Marie biscuits. When I go to my grandparents' houses I get to see many birds and animals, which I like. I love switching on the light and switching it off (about fifty times in two minutes is my personal record). I love reading my books and tearing up amma's (they do not have any pictures, so boring na?) I like my toys, but prefer appa's laptop and mobile and something he calls blackberry (which is my competitor for appa’s attention!).

Next month onwards, I shall be a bit busy with school. So I've asked amma and appa to invite you for lunch on the 6th of June'09 (Saturday), so that I can thank you in person for your blessings, love and good wishes. Please remember to take a slice of the yummy cake and don't forget to check out my lovely new clothes. I have attached some pictures of me over the last year. Enjoy! :)

The Venue
Utsav Restaurant, Ravindra Natya Mandir
Prabhadevi (Behind Siddhi Vinayak, alongside the ICICI Bank)

Other notes:
* Lunch timings: 12 noon - 1.30 p.m.
* Cake cutting at 12.30 p.m.
* Underground parking available in plenty
* Please let us know in case you would not be able to attend to give us time to decide how long you need to stand in the punishment corner.

I look forward to seeing you.

Giggles and Gurgles
Button

TO BE CONTINUED.......

Best Laid Plans and Mr.Murphy

2009-05-31T20:35:00.000-07:00

I am beginning to love and respect my mom more than before :) Seriously, planning a b'day lunch for a few friends is turning out to be more exhausting than I thought it could be.

* The cake guys do not deliver on Button's b'day.
* The restaurant has announced a hike in its buffet rates effective June 1st (Drat, why couldn't have Button been a May baby?)
* The driver decides he wants to quit.
* The balloon seller/decorator has to go to his village to attend his cousin's brother-in-law's neighbour's cat's wedding. Sheesh!
* My parents have come down with the flu, and I am yet to recover.
* The husband has to plan a launch of some product this month only, so comes home like a thief after ten and leaves before we wake up. Only his dirty clothes on the floor are traces of his visit.
* The husband announces TODAY(4 days before the lunch) that he hasn't invited the 3 people that I'd asked him to call as he did not have time. Solution? "Lets not invite them", he says. (Men, I say!)
* The husband buys lovely clothes from Baby Gap for Button from Singapore. I opened the bag today to check his taste and ALL of the clothes are T-shirts. I am going to dress Button in a t-shirt and diaper. Bah!
* My cook and maid want an off the same weekend as the lunch. The babysitter is yet to announce her claims or join the maid's union.

Mr.Murphy, I have scores to settle with you. Just you wait!

Snippets

2009-05-28T05:50:00.000-07:00

In the last month life has been flying past. Just so that I do not forget the month that is almost over...

Button Snippets...
* Button loves my grandpa, who is just 92 years young! He insisted on eating with my grandpa and even sleeping with him. My grandpa (in his own inimitable style) told him stories of Oliver Twist being hit on the head by Mr.Bumble and Hamlet's dad having had poison poured into his ear. Button seemed really fascinated with these gory details!

* Every time Button visits my parents, it rains in Chennai and Kalpakkam. This time was no exception with thunder storms and rains galore. What IS this connection?

* Button loves oriental-eyed air-hostesses. (Data points: 3 flights from his total of 7) I returned solo with Button from Chennai to Mumbai. Thank god for Ms.Agatha with Jet Konnect who my son just luuvvveed. All she had to do was to smile and grin and hold her hands out wide (SRK style) to him and he would smile and favour her with his rendition of 'Jai Ho'. She even gave him a piggy bank as a take away gift.

* Button's third tooth is slowly making an appearance. He is somewhat down with a mild stomach infection and cold. Nothing to counter my really bad flu and horrible throat infection though.

Life otherwise...
* I traveled 90 kms from Kalpakkam to Chennai with Button in tow to cast my 'secret' ballot. Really thrilled that I exercised my choice, although almost all of the election officers on duty decided to walk around the ballot box when I cast my vote. Sigh! Not that it helped the party of my choice. Anyways, heres hoping Mr.Singh does something about infrastructure this time around.

* Last weekend was my first major night-out sans the husband and baby. I attended my alumni meet (which seemed milder than the ones we'd hosted thanks to nostalgia and age). Nonetheless I danced like a Dervish-on-bhang to every song they played(incl 'ma ka laadla bigad gaya'), chatted up with friends' bosses (my friends hate me for it now!) and managed to tell the audience how my job of 'managing my one year old boss' was the toughest in this planet! The fun bit was how after a few drinks I switched to Sprite (you know, just to keep up appearances) and a batchmate took a sip and said "Oh, you haven't lost your touch gal. Such a STRRROOONNGGG drink" Ha ha ha!!

* My parents are here. My dad in his usual 'i-know-hindi-very-well' style instructed a taxi driver to take him to "Kings Golmaal" this morning ("Kings Circle" people!)

Me in wonderland!

2009-04-21T04:54:00.000-07:00

My self-confessed hibernation is thanks to an active 10 month old at home, whose every antic is so much fun and so much joy. I think when Button is 5 years old, am finally going to shake off this sense of wonder, call all my friends I have been ignoring to apologize, as to my fellow bloggers and my family!

To record for my failing memory's sake... (Button, here is what you enjoy doing these days...)

Button has begun making funny noises... some of them actual vowels and consonants. He says 'ba ba ba ba ba' incessantly, ' mamma' when he is physically hurt and 'tha tha tha', sometimes 'aa-boom, aa-doom, aa-gloom, aa-koom", also practises urdu shaayiri with a hand in the air as though reciting a couplet that goes "fa fa fa..aa aa, aa-gloom, aa-doom, ba ba ba ba..., foom toom boom"! (Wah wah, I say!)

Button seems to enjoy wearing new clothes. He actually is happy or sad in a particular combination. (Not inherited from me or his dad!)Button loves the color yellow. He especially loves smart denims when he leaves home. He enjoys trying on caps, hats and what not. However, this just does not extend to shoes of any kind. He hates anything on his feet, be it shoes, socks or a blanket during sleep. A regular hippie dude! At home though, he hates clothes. He loves to just sit around in a ganji and nothing more. Actually strips off his shorts or track pants by himself! Howzzat?

Button has two tiny teeth peeking out of his lower jaw, but they are yet to make a full appearance. He enjoys biscuits, loves cheese, has finally begun drinking water (though yet unable to master the straw or a sippy cup). He loves the toys on his high chair (I fully recommend the rain forest series from Fisher-Price) He thinks its a game to eat :) I must say (cross my fingers, and toes for good measure) that he is not a fussy eater!

What is Button fussy about? Being put to sleep. He is a baby of routine. Come 8.30 a.m., 11.45 a.m., 2.45p.m. and 8.45 p.m. he wants his mamma to feed him to sleep. He begins rubbing his eyes and pulling his hair and ears. I find it tough though to feed him each time as I'd like to wean him off too. He refuses to get ferberized or sleep by himself. While am glad that there is a routine, I wish I'd taught him to sleep by himself too. Any suggestions?

In other miscellaneous notes, he loves books. Just cannot do without books. Music is another passion. My husband and I are still stunned by how he responds to music. Has good taste too! Button has begun to stand up and walk a few steps holding on. Does not particularly enjoy crawling and resorts to a combination of walking-creeping-crawling to get to destination. Stills howls when I switch on the hairdryer. Hates sitting on the kitchen platform or being alone once evening sets in.

I am so in love with the way he responds to words and actions. It is amazing how much a baby can absorb... I know all the mommies reading this are shaking their heads thinking why I am stating the obvious... because it wasn't so obvious even a few weeks ago... but now it is so visible... Button's reactions, his concentration when he is trying to master a skill or action... I think I am finally in love with the thought of being a mom :) It grows with every milestone! Stay happy, my child.

Ps: All tags shall be completed soon :) Pls hang on. And mamma of O and T, I really apologize for not yet accepting and displaying my award. I promise to do it soon.

Ps2: Mamma, am coming home!

Tuppence, Two Cents and my Baarah Aane.

2009-03-24T03:31:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been a riot, both in my little world and the big bad world outside.

Like my eco prof in b-school would say in his accent, "Let ush doo da maaaacro-ekonumiksh fusht" :) Was ashamed to read of the death at IIT-Kharagpur caused by lack of medical facilities. Imagine his parents... they would have had so many dreams for their child. He must've slogged his butt off to get into IIT. And then a sudden end because of no medical facilities? Shocking. And we talk of "india Shining'. God help us! In the same vein, I was stunned to read of the death of a medical student in HP in a ragging incident. He was beaten to death by his seniors. I know all of us have academic or professional or personal pressures, but does it ever merit violence of this order? I wonder why not one of these wannabe doctors had the sense to stop? They have sealed their own fate in one case of peer pressure. Sigh!

IPL and the elections are leaving me bemused, sometimes bored. So I skip the topic and move on to my little world.

Last saturday P and I attended an orientation at a school (based in Bandra) for their mother-toddler program. This program is offered to infants and toddlers in the age bracket of 7 - 17 months and their mother/father (who accompany the child to the school for a one hour and fifteen minutes session thrice a week). Given the age of the 'students', naturally, no formal teaching is involved. The child is exposed to music, games involving gross and fine motor skills and different languages (Hindi, English and Marathi). Nothing that cannot be taught at home, but I like the concept of Button being able to interact with babies his age. P and I were stunned to receive a questionnaire at the end of the orientation. We had to fill out the answers separately. A sample of the questions is listed below.
* If you think your child should inculcate good manners such as being polite, who do you think is responsible for developing the same?
* What do you want your child to be?
* Why do you think your child should receive a holistic education?
* What is the difference between spirituality and religion?
Well, we were amused, but being the tams that we are, any exam is to be taken seriously, even if it is an opinion poll :) So we did our best and await results this friday. Am not yet sure if Button should travel from Prabhadevi to Bandra (travel time = 1 hour) at this age, but the decision can wait until results are out!

I have become a maid manager these days. My cook comes in the morning and watches me cook (seriously, she doesn't know how to cook and has been 'learning' for over a week now. Even how to make tea!) Then my kaamwali maid arrives and takes no notice of my repeated entreaties to wash the vessels after scouring them or to pour water over the bathroom floors after washing them with a floor cleaner. (She has a ball watching me do my slide dance when I enter the bathroom to bathe Button). In the meantime my baby-sitter arrives. She forgets any instruction I give her (to rival my memory!) So every day's work spills over to the next 2 -4 days. Finally in the evening, another maid comes to sweep and swab again. She has to have a story-telling session everyday (and in true spirit I compete with make-believe episodes!) Mostly stories of her 'koliwada', the absence of morality there, her good old days as a fish monger and how I have to be 'careful' with a young baby around. Oh, and how could I forget my driver? Mr.Gautam just has to see a red light and becomes a bull worthy of a spanish matador. He zooms ahead at full speed. Sometimes, even a speed-breaker does the same to him. And if I do not ask him to switch off the music, I get to hear the same 'Kiss me kiss me kiss me' type song on every station (he fiddles at top speed too) at top volume. I must say that at about half past seven, when it is just me and a tranquil cooing Button, I feel like I am in heaven, in peace. Only until P arrives. I have to return to adult words and the adult world then. :)

Mere paas Maa hai!

2009-03-11T00:41:00.000-07:00

I went through this horrendous phase of forgetfulness a few days ago. One day, I called some friends over for tea. And conveniently coerced my husband into taking me to a mall for some shopping. He had no idea that I had "not" cancelled the invitation. And horror of horrors, they turned up home on time too! I feel terrible about the incident even today. Thank god these friends are close friends and know me well enough to take my trip about it often enough without malice or hurt! Another day, a friend, her husband and infant daughter were in the hall. I had just taken a quick shower and stepped out without my pants (HORROR!!!) Thank god it was breezy and I wondered why it was droughty around my knees and looked down just in time to rectify my blunder. Would have gone into hibernation for years had I walked out. The worst incident happened last week, when I forgot to cook for Button. I just forgot. Poor chappie had to do with Nestum and Cerelac the whole day. Short Term Memory Loss a la Ghajini, anyone?

My building is undergoing a massive renovation now. All windows except the one shall be boarded up soon and we shall live in stifling heat and dust while the exteriors are recoated with waterproof plaster. Just as the work started, Button came down with a massive fever. Whenever I read blogposts talking about how stressed mommies were when their li'l uns were sick, I would tell myself that I would be strong and courageous and practical and not worry at all whenever Button fell sick. Ah! how the mighty fall :) Button is unwell now, and people around me are sick of my fussing around him. Am getting over the Florence Nightingale phase, but it tugs my heart to see the little baby burning up and not able to eat or be too active. Get well soon Button. I promise to endure your tantrums and naughty deeds.

Thank god for moms. My mom is here for a week-long visit and had she not been there, my husband would've definitely checked himself into an asylum. She manages to keep peace in the house despite my constant questions such as - "oh, isn't he hot?" or "Should I wrap another blanket around him?" or "His temperature was 100 deg a minute ago, should I check again?" What is scary is the thought that one day I shall be the mom who brings sanity to Button's house. Will I ever be able to don the mantle of a calm, composed mom?? I doubt!

The next few weeks should be super fun with the IPL and the elections. As NDTV calls it, its time for the Great Indian Tamasha. On another note, I recommend 'The Reader' and 'Vicky, Christina, Barcelona'. Happy Holi everyone.

Madness and Mayhem

2009-03-03T00:40:00.000-08:00

Button is so clearly developing a mind of his own. He can now babble 'ba ba ba' continuously, but chooses to do it ONLY when his dad is around. His baby-sitter is not helping my case by teaching him how to say 'appa' all the time. So the moment P comes into the room, Button goes into babble-overdrive. Its a task to shut him up!

ARR's youngest fan is Button indeed(after all both of us are such staunch fans of ARR). Whenever he listens to 'Masakali' he begins grinning. He also goes still (as if when he grins the rest of the body cannot move). I caught on immediately and began putting on the tape only when I had to change his diapers. So one evening, I put on the CD (despite the fact that he did not need a diaper change) and he started howling and stopped only when I pulled out a diaper and showed him. Gosh, how fast does a routine set in?

Button loves to watch the view from my bedroom and what a view it is (pls refer to pics). In the migratory season (NOW), there are scores of egrets and herons and storks and other such birds which alight on the mudflats near my home in low tide (those little specks in the pic). Button loves to watch them. These birds fly in a large group and often change mudflats in a huge swirl of white wings. Button, at 9 months, does not understand the concept of 'distance' yet. He puts out his hands in the hope of capturing one of 'em and gets annoyed when none of them alight near him. Bozo!

In TV news, I feel really sorry for a character in 'Balika Vadhu', whose husband-to-be is killed on the way to their wedding. But I feel sorrier for the characters who have to mouth silly lines... for example, the mother of the slain groom. As he son is bleeding, she has a line that goes "Dekhiye na, un badmaashon ne hamare bete to kya kiya". Duh! And even more amusing is the fact that the boy (who is shot through his chest and forced to lie on his mom's lap) smiles in memory of his waiting bride and refuses to let go of some flowers he picked for he. Is is possible to smile when a bullet is making friends with your lungs? Double duh.

Another TV grouse. Yes, it is shocking that Sri Lankan cricketers were attacked in Lahore. But CNN-IBN had no business talking to Javed Miandad the way they did. The reporters seemed to imply that terrorist attacks in Mumbai posed no security threats, but God save Pakistan if even a fire cracker shouted out to the cricketers. They asked him several RUDE questions with phrases like "in your country" and "terror outfits seem to originate in Pakistan". Please give normal citizens of the country a break. After all India has several terror outfits too (Ram Sene included). No need to harass a poor ex-cricketer. Am certainly Cheesed off.

Am continuing to battle maid trouble and lack of will power to lose weight. Hope both get resolved quickly. :) My last maid stopped doing one chore after the other citing lack of time, until she wore my patience out. When I asked her about her inefficiency, she said she would only do 1 - 3 of 10 agreed tasks as she did not 'feel' like doing the rest for me! (Is it me or is it me?) My current maid, on the 3rd day of her employment wants me to increase her salary by 200 bucks every month. Now, the money is one part, but what about professionalism? Where is it? I feel like am being held threat by a gang of extortionists.

Jai Ho! (Ella pugazhum iraivanukke)

2009-02-23T03:58:00.000-08:00

My weekend was a wonderfully busy one, peppered with joys and many disappointments. From a blog (can't remember whose) I was inspired to make every friday evening a wine-and-movie evening with husband at home. Sort of a mini-date :) This Friday, courtesy Dish TV it was 'Slumdog Millionaire' (in time for the statues) and courtesy husband lovely Merlot from Chateau Indage.

I imagined Saturday morning would be wonderful too. We had a school orientation to attend(yeah, for Button. ALREADY!) This school in Bandra offers a mother-toddler program for babies (ages 8 - 14 months) and their moms. I had missed the Jan orientation thanks to a bad flu. So the husband and I, Button and helper, headed off to a friend's house in Bandra (to leave Button behind). Just as I waved my byes to Button, he (made of sterner stuff) began his yelling practice(which sadly, gets appeased only with being nursed by darling mamma). The delay cost us... heavily. We ran to the school (literally). We were two minutes late and the room was full. Therefore entry was barred. Result? I had had enough with all my plans (of late) coming to naught. I couldn't help it, precious tears just rolled down my cheeks. My dear husband (P) can usually counter a fair fight, but tears just bring him to his knees. He whisked me off to our car and brought me to (guess, guess!) a jewelry store. Yippeee...... Check out the lovely earrings I was given. But was I appeased? Nope. I too am made of sterner stuff! We went to Crossroads for some book therapy and then to Patel's for some exotic-stuff-usually-thrown-away-post-expiry purchases. Finally, I heaved a sigh of relief and agreed to be civil during the lunch we had to go to. :)

Sunday dawned. I found out that Monday was a holiday, but P, having decided that being workaholic is not enough, had planned to go to Kolkata for recruitments at his alma mater. He was excited, but I sure wasn't. So another bout of retail therapy followed a 40%-off-Lifestyle and 50%-off-Body Shop. Am I grinning? YUP, YUP, YUP :)

Monday arrived. Two Indians created history at the Oscars. One of them being the man of my dreams. Ever since I heard the Leo Coffee jingle. Much has been written about how SM's music is not ARR's best. I don't care. He won it for this film. He WON it. That is all that matters. And in Delhi 6, although popular vote goes for 'Masakali', I vote for 'Maula Maula'. What I can bet on is that his humility and quiet assurance would never change, nor will the innovation in his music. More power to him for bringing the Indian sentiment of 'Mere paas maa hai' (I hope Button remembers me in his Oscar acceptance too!)

Button stood up by himself today. He has to hold on to something, but can somehow contort himself to standing position somehow. He is practicing to be a Bus Conductor or Concert Conductor someday. He cannot get enough of standing. Gosh, he exhausts me sometimes.

Jai Ho to my weekend, Jai Ho for the music.

ps: The rest of the title is a Tamil Muslim phrase meaning "Praise be to the Almighty", as quoted by ARR in his acceptance speech.

Blog is acting up....

2009-02-17T07:05:00.001-08:00

....I can't view the last post when I enter my blog link... I guess my crankiness this evening has rubbed off on the blog too.. or is it being the proverbial cheshire cat? (Gulp, is my blog clairvoyant?)

2009

2009-02-17T03:59:00.000-08:00

`Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice; `but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing I ever saw in my life!'

Okay, the cat is back :) and hopefully before I disappear again, I shall remain to blog a few times.

For starters, Button has turned me into a die-hard infant-gazer. To put it mildly, infants have always screamed their guts out in my curly haired presence. Button had no choice (poor boy!) And at 8 months, I am under his spell. Never realised a 70-cms-tall bundle of energy could captivate me so much. The fascination has now extended to his brethren as well and I am almost willing to start a day care centre for babies. (Miracle miracle!)

Anyways, Button has become a powerhouse of energy and naughtiness personified. He loves to pick up anything in his vicinity on the bed, crawl in a jiffy to the edge of the bed, throw the object and then hurl himself after it! The first time he fell off the bed, I howled louder than he did (ah, a new way to shut him up!). Am now a 'Sehwag ki ma' type Button-catcher. In two seconds I can twist myself and somehow catch him before he leaps off the bed, sometimes in mid air (and if you know how much I weigh, its a Guiness record type feat, I assure you!)

The 'South India' in a person never leaves him, even if he was born and raised in Bombay. After trying all types of solids, from the 'North Indian' nachni, dals and wheat, I finally relented one day and fed Button mashed rice with a dash of salt and ghee. Since then, he not only finishes rice each time (no matter how large the portion), he pleads for more as well. (All my dreams of raising a orange-juice-and-toast-breakfast-eater cruelly dashed to the ground. Bring out the idli maker!)

In non-Button news, the husband and I have started going out on mini vacations (with Button of course). We did our Jan vaca in Madh Island. Twas' a start, albeit with a rating of just okay. In other household news, I've finally found a coupla maids (having sacked the last one for giving me child-rearing advice every second minute she was in my house, despite repeated warnings). Also dusted the treadmill in the hope that I shall begin using it SOON :)

Thanks for not giving up on my blog. I hope the new year dawned well for you and you had a romantic Valentine's day. More adventures follow.

Hindi baat

2008-12-16T09:14:00.000-08:00

Advance warning: Non-Hindi readers, pl skip post as it turned out to be too long to include translations.

Prologue: Daddy dearest has lived all his life in the land of Tamils except for a brief 11 months stint in training school, BARC at Chembur, Mumbai. Mommy has lived in the north of Vindhyas only vicariously through the Hindi movies of the '70s. Here is a record of some of their Hindi 'Laughter is the best medicine' type stories!
PS: Any movie makers looking for material for a Southie spoof, here are your answers!

Year: 1999; Location: Souvenir shop, Katra (near Jammu, base camp for the Vaishno Devi shrine)
Mommy - Yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh and yeh, kitna?
Shopkeeper: Maaji, sab milaaki pachees.
Mommy: Ennathu? Too much, too much. Pachaas. That's all.
Shopkeeper: Hain???!!!!

Year: 2003; Location: Kolkata
Dad: Tum jaanta Raj hotel?
Cabbie: Nahin saab.
Dad: (waving his hands wildly to indicate right) Yahaan se seedha, (then gesturing to the right) phir seedha, (another right)ek aur seedha, (then left) phir udhar se aisa seedha.
Cabbie: Phew! Main poochta hoon kisi se!

Year: 2008 Location:Mumbai
Postman: Yeh parcel sirf Meera madam ko dena hai
Dad: Woh feeding karta hai. Tum apun to deta hai. Main madam ko feeding baad mein deta hai. Ab deta aur jaata!
Postman: Uh, okay. Sign karo!

Not to be outdone, here are two gaffes of mine which my friends never let me forget. (here's to Kunal and Dips!)

Year: 2001, Location: Puri Beach, early in the morning on new year's
Me: Kunal, sunrise kitna sundar hai. I love the sunrise because mein to beach pe hi ugi thi!

Year: 2002, Location: Gurgaon
[I called my friend and her mom picked up the phone. I thought I'd be polite and enquire about her parents]
Me: Aunty, aap kaise ho? Dipti ke baap kaise hain?

Cheers!

Ahoy from the South!

2008-12-10T05:07:00.000-08:00

Button turned six months old :) I finally feel like a veteran mommy.... am a certified diaper changer, sleep-deprived soul, story teller in 3 languages and a connoisseur of baby talk, not to mention how I can nurse Button just about anywhere without worrying too much about any skin-show! New skills indeed! My husband and I celebrated by attacking a date-walnut cake and demolishing it in minutes! And of course the brief Kerala trip.

We did Button's annaprashnam at Guruvayoor on the 6th of Dec (the security was super tight and reassuring). Button looked like a doll in a veshti (the south Indian wrapper in cream and gold). We fed him 7 different types of food off a banana leaf at 5.00 a.m. and although it was so early in the morning, he still slurped and licked his mouth. We also did a tulabaram (paid for his weight in sugar and bananas, the proceeds of which would go towards feeding children supported by the temple trust).

He was a model child until we returned to Cochin airport from where the dad and son parted ways to fly to two different cities. I've always rolled my eyes at those babies who become cranky, loud and impossible in a flight and always believed that my baby would remain a paragon of virtue onboard any flight cos' that is how I'd've brought him up. Button CRASHED those dreams of mine into the netherworld on my solo trip with him from Kochi to Chennai. The moment he saw us leaving withought dad, he began yelling, kicking and screaming. He cried non-stop(except when air hostess Bineesha of Kingfisher airways would stop to smile her dimpled smile at him! God Bless her!) The moment he saw my mom-in-law(upon landing) he gave me an evil grin and went to her. As if I wanted him back after that flight!

I came to my mom's place this morning and Button showed off by doing the worm crawl for the first time today. Described as neenjal in tamizh, he basically pulled up his butt and somehow moved towards his fave cloth book this afternoon.

More posts to follow on lots of topics vying for attention on this blog. In a bit! Until then, enjoy the great weather :)

Jaago Re: Vote out the rot

2008-12-01T20:28:00.000-08:00

After the shock and anger passed, am now filled with a sense of urgency, especially after reading and watching how some of our "leaders" reacted. RR Patil the Deputy CM of Maharashtra said that there would always be an incident or two such as this (the recent attacks on Taj Mahal, Oberoi etc.) in a big city like Mumbai and his boss, the CM of Maharashtra 'Shri' Vilasrao Deshmukh decided to visit the affected sites with a filmmaker. What empathy!

Now I'd like to do something.... no, I rephrase, I WANT to do something... but what? A million single efforts are not going to solve the problem. Like Obama said, I need Change, I need Leadership and I need Vision. I want to believe that as an Indian I can contribute to bettering my country. I realise that I need a strong leader to take this country to a better morrow. And for all this rhetoric in my blog (and in my head), I realise I NEED TO VOTE.

All media images of polling booths show SEC B, C, D and sub D categories voting. Never has a car stopped to let out a couple of educated MBA professionals/Media Managers/Engineers/Investment Bankers vote. C'mon, how many of you have ever voted? I have promised to myself I shall cast my vote in EVERY election that I can. At least let my voice be heard, use my right as a citizen, show the way to my son and his son. Taking a small step forward, I have already arranged to apply for my voter's ID card (which I am ashamed to admit, I still do not possess at the ripe voting age of 29!) I shall be back with more details of whether you can vote outside your constituency etc. But meanwhile do check out "jaagore.com"

To paraphrase Michael, nee Mikaeel Jackson, lets make the world a better place for you and for me and the entire human race.

ps: Here are more voices -
http://mammamiameamamma.blogspot.com/2008/11/lets-do-something.html
http://orangeicecandy.blogspot.com/2008/11/yeh-desh-hai-meraswades-hai-mera.html

'Numb'ai

2008-11-26T20:03:00.000-08:00

Mumbai being held to ransom again. This time a really planned and horrifically beautifully executed terror strike by the Deccan Mujaheddin. I woke up to 50 missed calls on all the phone lines we have. Parents, relatives, friends... all worried. Am pretty shaken by the regularity of attacks on Mumbai.

What I don't understand is why the TV channels, notably Times NOW and Headlines Today are bent upon showing where the police operations are, where they are stationed(roof tops of nearby buildings, each of them named!), how many of them(20 at each location), what weapons they possess (smoke bombs, AK 47s, hand grenades) and what their strategy could be (ah, finally speculation!) Do they think the terrorists in the Taj Mahal hotel have NO access to television????? Irresponsible journalism. In the name of 'breaking news', they are only sensationalising the terror strike. No depth of coverage. No feelings for the hostages' families. (Ex: On Times Now, there was a hot line for hostages to reach out to their families. A person calls asking for any info about his brother-in-law who was last seen in Kandahar, a restaurant in the Trident Oberoi. The reporter cuts him off mid sentence with assuring news reports that the Taj was the focus of the police force. How would this caller feel?)

I hope Mumbai moves to a higher level of security. Pray for the hostages. May the terrorist be caught and punished, in their lifetime or atleast mine.

Quantum of Solace!

2008-11-25T22:26:00.000-08:00

No, not the movie, uh, maybe a little bit, but the solace that my helper has now brought to my life. To explain my cryptic statement, rewind to last week of October. To ferry a boat without hands, in a storm, in the dark would've been easier than to have managed my suddenly-tantrum-throwing-son and my newly-turned-antagonistic-maid and my-always-messy-cook, not to mention my-very-stressed-out-husband in the last week of October. Did I mention I had no one else with me? My m-i-l came with me to Bombay, gave me time to unpack and get my maid working again and returned to Chennai. And then the hurricane hit! I was clueless(actually still am) as to how to manage domestic help, my very-demanding baby and the house. I barely found time to bathe and eat before he would start screaming. So I began looking for a helper... and found one a week ago.

Raji is a godsend. She comes at about 9 in the morning and leaves at about half past five. She does all the odd jobs that stack up now that Button is here - from washing his bottles to hanging his clothes to dry and ironing 'em, to cleaning his stroller, straightening out stuff and watching over him when I eat and bathe... and he hasn't even started crawling! She is slowly learning to hold him and engage him. What I also like about her is that she is smart, quick on the uptake and willing to learn (and no, am not thinking about the day she decides to leave!)

In the last month, we also started solids for Button and discovered that he could easily be the world's spitting champion in the babies category. His aim (usually my hair) and timing (usually when am scooping his next spoonful) are brilliantly well-planned and fabulously accurate. He has discovered that he can sing.... for the neighbours...LOUDLY. Usually chooses his riyaaz timings when I just close my eyes for a fifteen minute nap, if am lucky I even get to sleep for 5 minutes. Oh, and he loves to roll over and that is reserved for mamma's bath times. Result? I have learnt to take a bath and change clothes in 4 minutes flat (and beating my own record every third day!) And the cup of naughtiness brimmeth over with his licking habit... he is ready to lick just about anything. Samples include ink pots, sofa legs, cell phones, his own diapers, AC remote, all his toys and their wrapping paper, not to mention his fave breakfast...the Mumbai Mirror! (Mamma likes it too, only to read though!) In short he is a handful and on his way to being naughtier. And aye yum luvving it!!

In early December, the husband and I are planning to take him to Guruvayoor for his annaprashnam. After Kerala, we are heading for home and shall be back only in end December.

PS: I went with my friends to watch Bond, leaving Button and hubby behind. Needless to say, I was super-stressed about Button missing me through the movie and Bond was so lack lustre that I obviously thought it was a waste of 200 bucks. Craig was so-not-hot (or have my interests changed?)

And and for the amrikaans, Happy Thanksgiving!

The dark side of the moon!

2008-10-17T09:33:00.000-07:00

Button is slowly developing a naughty side (thanks to much encouragement from my m-i-l). Can’t say am complaining now ☺ For example, he seems to love the game of peek-a-boo. My m-i-l hides her face with her hands in front of him and questions “Patti enga?” (where is grandmom?). The moment he touches her hand or pulls a hand away she says “itho” (here) and he smiles instantly. He repeats this with my husband too. However, when I hide my face and ask him “amma enga?”, he starts chortling loudly and refuses to pull away my hand. Beauty, beholder et al!

Similarly when my m-i-l holds her index finger to him, he is in a hurry to reach it.. be it with his hands or feet. When mommy dearest tries to repeat it, he gives me a look and usually puts his index finger in his mouth (surefire recipe to irritate me!) Oh, and once the index finger is in, he shows surprising strength and resists all attempts to pull out mentioned digit.

In other news, he loves his stroller. He got gifted his first pair of jeans and looks like a miniature-man (if you know what I mean, a mini mee type person!) when he wears it. He has been invited to his first b’day party tomorrow and I hope he likes crowds and socializing.

On an unrelated note, yay to Mr.Goyal for reinstating the Jet cabin crew staff. I know how traumatic losing a job suddenly could be and am glad that so many hundreds of people were spared that agony. Happy flying everyone! And I hope my good friends who insisted on watching me breastfeed Button on take-off from Chennai last fortnight are back to flying, hopefully more enlightened!

'Bomb'ay!

2008-10-12T07:30:00.000-07:00

In the last week that I was away from the blog world....

Travel:
I discovered in the airport, on the Jet weighing scale that I had 100 kgs of luggage(travelers = me, Button, Husband and Mom-in-law). A good 40 kgs excess. Realised I would be bankrupt (given stock market situation or not) if I paid the actual amount. So gave Oscar winning performance to Jet airways man-at-counter about coming from the US of A and how hot India was and how Jet's service standards seemed to have improved since my last trip with them :) Well, it is not false, except that we returned over 2 years ago. And after all time IS a relative factor and necessity the mother of improvisation :)

In the flight, when Button cried before take off, 3 male stewards and 1 female air hostess rushed towards us, stood around me and insisted I feed him. While after six tequila shots I may be tempted to loosen a button or two, I wasn't planning to breastfeed for in-flight entertainment. Finally it took my irate husband to point out that they needed to fasten their seat belts and that our baby was 'our' concern. Phew!

Home
Yippee... am back home! To my lovely little home that overlooks the sea and the Worli-Bandra sea link. To my maid who has it in her nature to fight with me everyday. To my cook, who hopefully shall get the sack soon for putting 'dal' in salt instead of the other way round. To my 'apartment mommy society' (and there are already 6 of us with babies born this year). To my bedroom with its lovely white bed lamp. And best of all, back to life with husband. We are a family now :)

Button is settling down. We are trying to get him to sleep in his crib. But he gets up twice in the night(atleast) for feeds. So its tough. Am planning to persist with it as most books advise separate sleeping arrangements from month 3 itself. Also, I'd like to roll about in my bed for a change :)

Birthday
And I turned the lovely age of 29 on the 10th. Had a quiet b'day. Button wore ONLY new clothes from morn to evening. I got a slew of gifts from husband in his usual thoughtful and innovative manner. Good food from m-i-l completed the day. Next year (I have promised myself) I shall get smashed :)

Leaving on a jet plane...

2008-10-04T03:45:00.000-07:00

Buried under mountains of clothes to pack... never realized there'd be SO MUCH to do before a less-than-two-hours flight back home to Bombay! Work seems to have doubled as compared to my trip from Bombay to here.

And to see my completely grown-up parents behave like kids with their sad faces at Button's departure, refusing to let me hold him except during b/feeding sessions.

And the streams of last minute visitors coming in to see the baby. (Didn't they know I was here in the last 3 whole months?)

And his vaccination yesterday (and fever to deal with)

But yippee... am glad am going back home..in time for my b'day... Bombay watch out for us :)

ps: Any Bombayites/non-Bombayites if you can suggest a full time/part time maid/nanny, I shall be eternally grateful and promise to buy you a drink/coffee/or anything else... gentleman's word.

Sayanora Kalpakkam... shall blog from Bombay in a few days, once I settle in.

Meanwhile, Button turned 4 months old today.
* He hates rolling over.
* Maybe its my imagination, but he seems to recognize his name and the word "fan".
* Loves to admire his hands and feet! (For narcissistic tendencies, his mom is to be blamed!)
* Hates to be wrapped up for the night.
* Chews his mittens with a vengeance.
* Gurgles, coos and sometimes says 'da'.
* He sings with me when I sing (offtune) his lullaby for the night(and no, its NOT my overactive imagination, I swear he really croons!)
* Is taller and chubbier and cuter than ever :)

Award season.....

2008-09-30T02:43:00.000-07:00

I always knew I am brilliant, but receiving a 'Brilliant' award had me falling on my knees and thanking my lucky stars (well, almost!). I am happy to accept the Brilliant Weblog awards from Dinky's owner who thinks that I "manage the balance of convention and adventure and record it well!"

I take great joy in awarding the following people -
* KarSub for being the one who got away!
* Ms.Bhatta whose writing reminds me of radio shows and childhood book-swapping days.
* Nutty for almost being me a few years earlier and for the honesty and humour in her posts.
* Munchkin's mom for allowing me to keep my sanity intact by showing me the way!
* Priyanka for her cheer and bubbly spunk and her visible love for A.
* Lavs for being a Harry Potter fan!
* Margarita for ranking Al's performance in 'The Godfather' as her fave. You win instant approval from me gal!

The rules are -
1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back
2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with 'Brilliant Weblog'
4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
5. And then we pass it on!

Oh and I made my first forever-best-blogfriend... and I can't wait to flaunt my award and my new found kinship. Here's to Cubby's mom who thanked me for "just being around". Thanx Abha. Your blog is fun and I look forward to lots of posts on life and cubby.

I am thrilled to award it to....
$ R @ ITW for being down-to-earth, helpful and good fun.
$ Nutty for getting under my skin. Someday we should meet gal!
$ Munchkin's mom just for being at the same place under the sun.
$ Parul for reminding me to take motherhood lightly and enjoy it.
$ Gayatree for being my soul sistah!
$ Priyanka as much for her enjoyment of travel (which brings me joy) as for her place in the fellowship of motherhood!

Go on! Spread the cheer :)

Abject Apologies...

2008-09-25T03:44:00.000-07:00

My baby...

I did not mean to drop my mobile phone on your head. Am contrite. Truly sorry. Your sobbing (as against 'crying') broke my heart. But what humbled me even more was the fact that you wanted "me" to wipe away your tears and comfort you, even though I was the one who had hurt you. I guess it is true that child IS the father of man. I learnt from you today. Never again, I promise to be careful and keep my clumsiness in check. May the bump go away soon.

The Week that was...

2008-09-19T05:29:00.000-07:00

Tidbits from the last week -

M-i-L visit: Button and I (and the husband) went to Chennai for a 4 day visit. My dear m-i-l had done up the house, gotten some new plumbing done and fixed an extra AC. Also being the ultimately-resourceful person that she is, she had arranged a cradle for the li'l one too. She rocks! We had a lovely time there, with Button really rising up to the occasion and not troubling me at all. Button got tonnes of clothes. He is now the proud owner of 13 onesies/sailor suits, 19 jablas, 14 Tees and 8 pairs of shorts. Also one track suit(!!) Enough to clothe a mini infant-army.

The husband and I went to lunch one day at a place called 'Cholayil Sanjeevanam' run by the Medimix group offering health food. However, on the day we went, we were served Onam special lunch. Great food. Really small helpings though (I felt like a meanie having asked for re-serves of the 'Erusseri' a record 11 times!) Bad service. But the food is super. The restaurant is in Nungambakkam, opp the ICICI bank.

Shopping: Bought lots of books for Button. Baby center says he should be read aloud to. Had a blast at Landmark picking up Fairy Tales for him (No, I don't believe in racial under/over tones blah) Twas' lovely trying to remember the much-treasured stories of childhood. Could almost remember the words in the books that I used to read out to my sister. Don't get me wrong, am not trying to be elitist, but I was surprised at the kind of crowd at Landmark (based on the kind of tamil used and the clothes) Pleasantly surprised actually, that all sections of the society seem to appreciate books and toys.

ITW: I finally connected to a really lovely person through the blogworld and 'aye yumm luvving eet' :) R from ITW and I had a medium-sized chat with Tejas and Ojas providing lovely background sounds with their sweet-voiced-mommy demands! Thanks R. Couldn't manage to go to the shop this time, but my mom would check it out this weekend.

Button's latest:
* He has begun to demand 'godi' all the time, demanding to be held, walked around and swung around.
* He had begun to watch trees and crows and cows avidly. He kept gurgling at a calf drinking water from a pot at our gate and then threw a crying fit the moment the calf mooed :) Amusing!
* Rolls over and then yells for attention! Is not able to roll back to position yet.
* Plays around during feeding sessions, irrespective of bottle or breast. Its quite a task getting him to feed properly.
* Gurgles in different ways and blows spit bubbles incessantly. Also clasps his hands in different positions depending on his mood.
* Has now started to lick everything in sight.. my mom's mangalsutra, my dad's poonal, buttons on my clothes (wait a minute, button licking buttons eh?!) his own clothes, top-to-toe on his hands during his bathtime.. sigh!

The old and the New!

2008-09-06T03:09:00.001-07:00

My dear grandad is 92 years old. He has had an account in SBI for ages. My dad recently retired and therefore my family would be shifting from Kalpakkam to Chennai. My grandad decided not to shift his (pension) account to another branch in Chennai (he fails to understand core banking completely) and grandiosely announced his plans to use the ATM instead. He applied for the card and then these were his wonderful reactions to the card!

My grandad's reaction to the plastic -
1. He read the card guide cover to cover - thrice.
2. He refused to tear the card from the welcome letter (until I did it during his afternoon siesta, and got yelled at for it!)
3. He showed the card proudly to every visitor to our house in the last one week, and also called his daughters and grandchildren to announce that he now owns an ATM card.
4. He refused to open the 'secret' PIN code because it is secret!
5. Once cajoled to tear open the PIN intimation, he refuses to show the numbers to anyone and refuses to entertain any suggestions to change the printed PIN.
6. He used the ATM card for the first time today and took the card to the temple for a puja (a la a new car!) before he went to the Bank.
7. He has a brand new folder to store the receipts of each ATM transaction, already labelled and filed with his papers.
8. The bank manager gave my granddad an umbrella for being the oldest customer in their clientele to have applied for an ATM card (the other 80years+ pensioners refusing even the computerized pass book)

Please tell me how many of the above apply to you :)

Rolling Stone!

2008-09-02T05:30:00.000-07:00

Button rolled over by himself today. He is 87 days old. Yippee :)

ps: He seems to love being on his tummy.

'Pee' Time tales

2008-08-24T21:45:00.000-07:00

Warning: If baby tales of peeing and pooping scare you, scroll down no further!

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Now Button pees funnily. His (ahem) asset stands up like a cannon ready to fire and then starts moving randomly on its axis in any direction it chooses and fires. Sometimes like an irrigation sprinkler in all directions! When he was about 3 weeks old, I was changing his diaper one day, when it stood up alarmingly. I decided to wait and see where he would pee and was betting furiously with my husband over the direction. He started crying at the exact moment he started peeing. And hey, he outdid himself. He peed right onto his face. The expression on his face was an absolute MasterCard moment...priceless.

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My mom's colleague dropped in the other day to meet the baby. She was annoying me no end with her overbearing instructions, especially regarding the cloth nappy and liner that Button was wearing. Apparently, since he is a 'boy', he should be kept clothless showing off his assets as much as possible (and I just don't agree). She picked him up and removed his nappy. He had just peed. She remarked that as he had just peed, it was good to let him air out. Almost instantly, as though Button knew I was displeased with his nangu-pangu state, peed again, right on her face... and lots at that! The look on her face was brilliantly confused as she stuttered and muttered! Ah, retribution :)

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A few days ago, Button's pee started smelling. For those who don't know, a 2 month old baby's pee shouldn't smell at all. Between my internet searches and my Bible 'What to Expect' telling me that it could be Urinary Tract Infection, I decided to become a pathologist and collect a sample of his urine to check if it was cloudy (another symptom of UTI). Oh, what a time I had. Everytime I thought he was going to pee and brought the clean glass container I had identified for the purpose, he would just grin and not go, or go too quickly or more often in the direction opposite to the one I was holding the glass. I guess becoming a football goalie is not a career option for me!
ps: For those who are concerned, no, the smell isn't there any more! It vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

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During pregnancy, I quite enjoyed a few calorific 'Milky Bars'. Since post delivery I have been quite off chocolates, as a treat my mom bought me a Milky Bar. One afternoon, I put Button to sleep. I slowly unwrapped the two layers, mentally savouring the pleasure that was to come. I placed the bar on my lap and leaned over Button to pick up my book. In a second I felt a lot of wetness on my lap... Milky Bar soaked in baby pee, anyone? (Sigh!)

The Weather!

2008-08-21T08:38:00.000-07:00

The Mumbai monsoon is one of the big reasons I came to Kalpakkam to my parents' house. I wanted his clothes to smell of the sun.

And it has been pouring almost consistently every day ever since I came here.

Rain Man... listening to me? Am tired of you...GO AWAY!

‘Gold’en shot!

2008-08-14T03:01:00.000-07:00

I am as proud and happy as all Indians are at Abhinav Bindra’s achievement. An Olympic Gold is no mean feat. Being brought up on a staple of cricket and the occasional tennis match, I was stunned to realize how many avenues of achievement are possible. Given my latest mantle of motherhood, I realize how much his parents must’ve struggled to give him support (and they’ve said so non-stop on every TV channel that exists in India, including a rarely watched Tamil channel called Win TV and on Asianet News!)

I have a tiny li’l son. I would be happy to see him become a world class athlete, but honestly I have no clue where to start. Like most south Indian Iyer families, my relatives often ask me if I’d like Button to become an Engineer or a Doctor or the third front, a Chartered Accountant. I am happy to support my child in whatever career option he wants to pursue, as long as it is above board. But what is the path to the non-conventional options?

In China, I know I can send my child to an athlete’s school. What is the procedure in India? Do athletes have a future if they are not absolutely top of the rung? Will my son be able to face the politics in sports if he gets there? What about life after the atheletic years are over? In western countries, most athletes have a good chance of becoming a trainer at various levels at good salaries. In India, we are still far far behind. I guess in India, “becoming” an athlete is still more of a fluke. What do you think?

Button at 2 months

2008-08-02T04:43:00.001-07:00

Button at two months loves smiling, especially at the ceiling fan. He even chuckles at it sometimes, sharing secrets with the fan!

He has started cooing and "talking" to people, especially my granddad.

He hates being swaddled, except in the nights.

He loves to drag any object close to him to check it out. Especially mobile phones!

My family decked him up in all the gold he received and surprisingly seemed to love it (both my husband and I hate to wear any excessive jewelry, wonder where he got this gene from!)

He has a special sound that he makes when my mom calls out to me in a sing-song voice!

Button seems to love music and settles down even when I sing in my terrible voice :)

Work and Maternity Breaks

2008-07-24T04:30:00.000-07:00

Breaking News: I was asked to resign from my job... because am on maternity leave. NOT FAIR.

I had an engaging role working out of home. The role necessitated occasional travel which I was (and still am) willing to do leaving Button behind with my mom. The head of the organization who took this call to let me go has 4 children herself. She worked out of home for the same organization several decades ago when she took 4 maternity breaks herself. Everybody agrees that I did a great job and that they "wish" they could wait another month for me to return, but no, progress on a couple of assignments is too fast to not have a person on the job NOW. I was openly told that the question of hiring somebody else would not have come up had I not gone on a break.

Two Questions:
a) I was open about the fact that I would go on maternity leave several months ago. Why did it not strike them then that a replacement would have to be found for a few months? Also, would it not take them time to train a new person and bring him or her to speed? It seems illogical to insinuate that I am somehow less capable now, given that am a new mother, especially coming from a lady who is a mother 4 times over.

b) Is it possible that this whole arrangement fell through because the organization is a US based one and am in India? Are Indians treated below par?

I am trying to not let guilt or resentment take over, but they do surface every now and then. As if coping with a newborn is not taxing enough!

ps:Two other posts dealing with similar topics.

Y on Working Moms
ITW on Maternity becoming a Career Hazard

The long journey home...

2008-07-11T05:38:00.000-07:00

8th July: Wake up in the morning at 4.00 a.m.. Feed Button. Start packing large suitcase with baby clothes, baby toys, diapers, nappies, liners, rubber sheet, plastic sheet, burp cloths, towels, brush, baby oil, top-to-toe wash, lotion, powder, medicines, medical records... etc. Rush to doc to check if am back to normal, a month after delivery. Run to the baby shop to buy baby items of next size(forgot am going home for two months!) Run back. Feed baby. Start clearing cupboards (When the lady of the house is away, the maids will play!). Talk to boss about where to ship my stuff. (Another mail on story of my job follows in a few days). Try to get Button to adapt to bottle-with-a-liner. Surprised that he adapted in a few seconds!! Talk to husband endlessly about handover-of-household-routines (never believing he would stick to even one of 'em, but what the heck, we live on hope!) Finally sleep for a few hours after the first feed in the night.

9th July: Barely make it to the airport in time. Mom has one suitcase (medium) with her stuff. I have one suitcase (small) with my stuff. My husband has a laptop and a small bag. Button has two large suitcases, one medium suitcase, one diaper bag, one feeding bottle backpack and a carseat (all for a 300 rupee infant ticket!) My husband in all his wisdom had bought full fare tickets on Jet Airways for us and managed to get 3 upgrade vouchers to get us to the "royal" business class on an all-economy flight (men, sigh!)

In-flight we were instructed a few million times to feed the baby during ascent and descent, as infants do not know how to yawn (nonsense!). Also to bundle him up as he may feel cold and to plug in cotton wool into his ears. Button had other plans though. He managed to shake his head violently enough to get the cotton wool out each of the 20 times that we tried. Also hated the blanket. Refused to suckle. Instead yawned copiously during both ascent and descent. Babies sure have the own minds!

10th July Mom and dad worked overtime to set up a system for clothes and diaper changes. Button refuses to come to mom except for 'Inga'(food in his language). Prefers trusted maid K over me. Likes his great granddad's Shakespeare declamations (wonder why at 91 years of age he chose to recite Mark Antony's speech to Button who is barely 5 weeks old!). Also likes his grandpa's nonsensical babble. A typical example is "Kanna, mokutickinal, grahhy, peetombom, ffaffa, jikoko, wednomini!!" (perhaps it makes perfect sense to the little one!)

My mom calls Button "Pattaani" meaning 'green pea' in Tamizh. My dad has begun calling him "Takkali" (Tomato), "Muttakos" (Cabbage) and "Tarboojini" (Water melon)

Button loves the sound that a friendly lizard makes in our bedroom (strange tastes!)

He loves the sounds of birds chirping in the garden too (Help, we only have crows and pigeons in Bombay!)

Cries if people talk to each other and stop fussing over him for more than 5 minutes at a time. A typical conversation between my parents goes like this -
Mom: "R, we must finish our pending bank work soon enough.My sweetheart, my little darling, my pot of gold, apple of my eye. We only have three months. Honey, sweetie pie"
Dad: "Nimponsui, jijiloti,hugijoti.Yes, I have processed my papers. polikutti, kotiharra, biscofoji, wawarani. Am waiting for your signatures only. jugijugi, kohimera"
Wah, what a lovey-dovey couple!

11th JulyAm luvving it now. No worries of how to dry my clothes, maid worries or cook problems. Am more relaxed and able to bond with Button better. He is growing up to show his own tiny spirit and mind now. Am looking forward to seeing his personality grow.

Guilt. Sleep. Thrills.

2008-07-04T23:52:00.000-07:00

It has been one month of life with baby Button! Finally some pics to share with you.

Guilty. Typically, motherhood is picturized as a baby feeding at a mother's breast. Breastfeeding is praised to the skies and the virtues of a mother who can feed her baby with plenty of milk are written everywhere. In my case, I had a trouble-free picture-perfect pregnancy... I imagined that I would be a fount of milk with my baby growing up on the abundant milk that I generated. The bible that most people follow "What to expect in the First Year" talks of storing extra milk and the right techniques to breastfeed etc...innocently, after reading it, I imagined I would have so much extra milk that my baby would be able to bathe in it! In the first harrowing week, Button woke up every hour to feed (and whimpered for more after I was done). We made sure that he latched on properly, the lighting was right, the bed was okay etc. Finally, we went to the doc in panic. I was exhausted and stressed out and wondered what was wrong. My pediac gave a simple solution - "Be practical, he is hungry, give him a top feed" (read formula milk for the non-parents!). I was devastated. I felt like I had failed some important entrance exam by not having enough milk. It took me two weeks to rationalize that it is more important to keep the baby healthy, happy and on combination feed(formula and mother's milk), than to keep him hungry and on mother's milk alone. Now he is a lot more settled, sleeps a lot more and funnily I seem to be producing a lot more milk, although not enough to exlusively feed on my milk alone!

You never know when guilt as an emotion catches up with you. I always thought that being aware of one's actions would remove guilt from one's life. In this case, much as I rationalized, books, elders in the family and self created notions (not to mention ignorance) pushed me to this negative emotion. Its a downward spiral after guilt settles in. Thanks to an understanding mom and mom-in-law (who repeatedly quoted the Gita that I should try and leave the fruits of labor to the Big Man above) that I pushed aside my prejudice. Sigh! So much for being an Sec A+ well educated yuppie mom.

Oh, my mom has been plying me with milk- lehiyam (a south indian Chavanprash kind of concoction), garlic boiled in milk (UGH!), Satavri powder, Saabudana kheer, Mother's Horlicks and Lactonic (a grand total of a litre of milk everyday). Am gagging!

Sleepy.The one luxury I miss now is... no, not movies or martinis....but blessed sleep! For someone who loves her zzz time, Button is a revelation. How he manages to wake up without an alarm clock every 3 hours is a mystery! It is forward and onward to a routine of me feed - bottle feed - burp - change nappy - continue bottle feed - change nappy - burp - rock to sleep!

Thrilled.He smiled at my husband yesterday (he completed one month yesterday!) His first social smile. Nazar na lage but oh, my heart warmed to him and I was thrilled to bits. His smile just lights up the room and our lives! He has been regularly smiling at my husband and my mom ever since... still hasn't at me, but what the heck, I live on hope and all the milk my mom feeds me!

Footnote: Am off to my hometown for a month just to miss the messy Mumbai monsoon. More blogging from home.

Its a boy!

2008-06-23T04:45:00.000-07:00

After nine months of intense desire to blog of the impending addition to our family and blind superstition stopping me from clicking the 'publish post' tab, finally D-Day arrived on the 4th of June. P and I are delighted to share with you that we are a happy threesome with our li'l son filling our lives and thoughts with love and laughter. The li'l person we'd christened 'Button' in our first sono (he looked as 'cute as a button' and as tiny as one, therefore!)made his entry blowing spit bubbles at us :)

It is difficult to articulate the feelings I went through on D-Day...pain is the last thing one remembers, and frankly labor pains are over rated, it is very do-able (and I was in labour for 14 hours before I took the epidural, so I KNOW!!).. elation is too mild a word, I was on a high for atleast 3 days and couldn't stop smiling as if I'd won all the golds in the Olympics...pride was another dominant feeling. I was immensely proud of becoming a mom and being part of a family as opposed to a couple...fear was mildly in the backdrop too. That my son should learn to be strong and brave and courageous in this mad bad world that we chose to bring him into.. protectiveness also found a place in the plethora of emotions. This tiny li'l person would depend on my husband and I for everything and we were d@mndenst sure that we would keep him healthy, happy and contented as best as we could.....Several others, too many to write down!

Life has changed and HOW! Sleep is a really rare commodity, but well, who cares! Never knew that burps would be a much awaited event :) Also, never knew that my husband would be so diligent in noting every single strand on Button's body. We are thrilled with every breath he takes... every move he makes... and I guess parenthood is as interesting and exciting as one makes it out to be...

to be continued... pics follow soon!

Of Silly Juniors and Romantic Dinners!

2008-05-21T05:38:00.000-07:00

The heat is on... as is the alumni season. Summer trainees have been calling up to enquire if one would attend meets or not. Someone I know is expecting a baby shortly, as early as the first week of June. A junior called her and asked her if she would be attending their campus's alumni meet scheduled on the 31st of May. So she replied that she was expecting a baby in the first week of June and would therefore 'try' to attend! This guy apparently giggles and then stumps her with his next question "Ma'am should I put your status as 'confirmed' or 'unconfirmed'?" To paraphrase my grandfather, back in 2001, a smart aleck B school student in a seemingly decent B school would never be this dumb. Where is the world going to? :)

Now to 'ME' time... my husband decided to surprise me last Sunday and HOW! He said we were going to the temple and that I should dress smartly. I was puzzled, but pati being parameshwar etc. I just complied. We did go to the temple. Then he said he wanted to go for a movie in South Bombay. This was also not unusual. I agreed. Then in South Bombay he said he wanted to use a loo, so he wanted to go to the Taj Mahal hotel. I was really puzzled (movie theatres also have decent loos!) but I still agreed (wah mom! good training!!) We went to the hotel, he gave the car to the valet, I saw Rahul Bose get out his white Merc with an anaemic sleep-deprived young "chick" and opened my mouth wide. Forgot to check where I was going as I saw Gautam Singhania and the Punjab Lions IPL team... just held on to dear hubby's hand as he whisked me into an elevator... to the 20th floor... to 'Souk', a wonderful middle-eastern restaurant that overlooks the Gateway of India and the bay behind. You can see the twinkling lights of Navi Mumbai in the distance and several boats. The decor was simple and you can call it middle-eastern. He had booked a lovely table by the window. (ummmmmmmm!)

We tried the quaintest dishes, this being my first experience with middle-eastern cuisine (although I’ve had Greek, Turkish , Lebanese and Ethiopian food before). I felt like Padma Lakshmi in 'Top Chef' commenting on each dish as we were served by the steward who explained the dishes with words like 'crudette' (which apparently means raw cut veggies!) and 'white yoghurt sauce with sesame seeds, tahini and a hint of lemon and parsley' (aye yum luvving eet!) We ordered 'Bamiya Makli' for starters (not to be sampled if you are watching your middle!) Its bhindi in the white sauce I just described. For the main course, the man ordered 'Batata Charp'... obviously a potato dish as you may have 'intelligently' guessed! It was layers of potato, spinach and aubergine, with some strange but yummy cheese, some white sauce and pomegranate seeds. Lovely, but heavy! I ordered a 'Vegetarian Tagine', a dish that has couscous as its base, with a tomato sauce and lots of veggies (incl delightful zucchini, sun dried tomtaoes and roma tomatoes). Finally, the dessert...he had 'B'stilla Au Lait' - a dish with egg, layers and cream in it. Don't remember much of the dish as I was in ninth heaven savouring my rose flavoured ice cream. I recommend my choice strongly. It had authentic rose petal pieces and the stewards pleased with my oohing and aahing earlier had given me an extra scoop.

Much as I groaned later at the bill (which I surreptitiously pulled out of the husband's wallet later to check) and the overdose of food (I pigged out completely), I was totally touched. We didn't discuss work or life or the future or finances or family... instead it was 'giggle' time again with silly jokes, wisecracks about world politics and lines like "your eyes are brown" (We burst out laughing at this one, after all we've been married for 3 years now). Still feeling moony about the lovely pre-anniversary dinner! I think couples should do this once every quarter....

Mr.Davies said and I quote his poem ‘Leisure’ partially -
“No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare. “

Saas, Sister and other Sagas!

2008-05-09T02:17:00.000-07:00

My mother-in-law has been here for the last couple of weeks (henceforth referred to as 'm-i-l' in true 'Woman's Era' ishtyle! "http://www.womansera.com"). My husband has a brother, so she is an m-i-l twice over. While my mom is my mom, “ she” treats us(certainly me) as a much loved niece at least (tough to use the word 'daughter'!)I wonder how clichéd the saas-bahu serials get in their depiction of the m-i-l, no better are the ones in the average Hindi and Tamil movies and Woman's Era type magazines and books. I am genuinely concerned about human adaptability to 'conditioning'. How easily is this cross section of society bad mouthed! I get pampered, sometimes rapped (but gently) and mostly loved and treated like an equal adult. Yes, there are times when am mad at her, or my husband (usually for taking her side unconditionally!) but usually the feelings are soothed by discussion, some adjustment (on my part) good food and presents for me :) While it is tough to replace the security and comfort of one's own mom, I believe it is necessary to work out at least a amicable relationship with one’s 'm-i-l'.... what is the point in strife, when we have just a few more years of life? (Did you notice the rhyme?!)

My sis is a madcap... she decided last Wednesday that she WANTED to see me... her poor husband doesn't have a choice, but to pander to her wishes (unfortunately that is how our family 'brought' her up!!)She also had an important meeting on Friday that she couldn't miss.. so she flew into Bombay from Chennai on Thursday morning and flew back on the same evening... by Jet Airways... on her own cost! But we had a blast! Lovefool :)

My mom is coming over next week to spend a few weeks with me..Summer holidays for her...yippeee! Good food and great company.

I dunno if any of you have this voyeuristic tendency to secretly watch a saas-bahu serial. I have one such secret... (one misdemeanour is maaf!) I watch this one soap called 'Banoo Mein Teri Dulhan' about 2 - 3 times a week. It used to be bad, it is now ROTTEN! What with the villain skipping a generation with nary a grey, or wrinkle! Should I bemoan the reincarnation or the hideous filmy song-n'-dance routines or the constant scenes centred around the dinner table?! Nahinnnnnnnn :)

Finally, I think poor Bhajji has had enough with his burst of temper... Amul said it best "Pow Bhajji.... Amul Butter: Slap it on"

Womb with a View!

2008-04-30T04:48:00.000-07:00

On a recent random surf, I came across this lovable character - Umbert. He is an 'unborn' baby talking to the world from his womb. He has tonnes of friends, each of them a stalwart personality. See some samples below, and google him.

Every mom-to-be that I know of who loves her cosmopolitan would feel reassured at this cartoon I guess!

Think of it, babies in the womb live in a space smaller than (and no, I don't want to hear 'ughs' for this) a prisoner in his cell. But it is probably the only no-stress period in their lives... and they get to eat all they want! No guilt :)

What say? Good fun, ain't it?!

Khuda ke Liye

2008-04-18T20:43:00.000-07:00

After many 'sold-out' shows, we finally managed to watch the much hyped about 'Khuda ke Liye' a couple of evening ago. The storyline was interesting, (although reactions post 9/11 have been done to death in books and articles and movies) The music was certainly memorable, sufiesque and haunting. I also feel in love with the way the 'azaan' was sung by one of the lead characters.

Overall, the movie felt like an on-screen theatre drama(point in ref: In a court scene, women cry 'shame shame'!). The movie is not slickly packaged like a 'Chak De India', but thank Khuda for that, we don't have heroines running around trees or shaved torsos!

The actresses gave mediocre performances, especially the character of Mariam, she did not play the role of a Brit or a saddened and angry daughter the way a Nandita Das or Ayesha Dharkar could have played it.

My take? : It is certainly one of the better movies I have watched in the recent past(others being 'Race','4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days' and 'Shaurya'). Not necessarity a theatre movie, it can be a DVD watch. Beware if you do not speak good Hindi, there are severely Urdu portions in the movie.

Doubt: One of the characters talks about the majority of Pakistanis being able to read Arabic, but not understand it. Can someone explain why or how?

"Wonly in Mumbai I say"

2008-04-09T19:37:00.000-07:00

Some vignettes from my life in Mumbai (amusing in retrospect of course, never at that moment!)

My maid-in-waiting: She is one helluva confident person (all public speakers and esteem building courses should use her as a role model!) She can browbeat anyone into submission (incl the sometimes aggressive me!)even if she knows she is in the wrong! One fine morning last week, she wanted a salary raise. Now, I was surprised and refused immediately because it had only been 4 months since she had started working for me... then I wanted to "dig deeper" (as my B school profs had taught us) to arrive at the root cause of the issue.. so I asked her why she wanted a raise so soon in her 'career with me'... she answers "Oh! I have given my maid a raise, so I figured I deserve one!!" Maid employing maid? First time I've heard!Howzzat??

South-Western: I was at a hospital(not one of the biggies, a gujju stronghold hospital at Charni Road) a few days back for a medical test. I had to register a file in my name. This bored looking clerk asked for my "Name" and I replied "ABC" (FYI, my name starts with 'Sri'), then he wanted to know my surname. Now I am a 'southern Indian' and I don't have a surname. I gave my dad's name, which I continue to use as my 'sir'name! He then asked me, "are you married"?(Given that I was wearing no 'traditional' marks of marriage)I replied in the affirmative. Next was husband's name. I replied in full. Obviously it is different from my dad's. This chap was perplexed and laboriously wrote out my name on the file which finally reads Srimati "second half of my name" "Sri" "husband's name" "father's name" "husband's father's name". And he grins and remarks "I thought you were a Marathi person, you don't look Gujarati, but you turned out to be a Madrasi, what a strange world". Geez, I know am strange(sometimes), but to the world?!

Drive away: The driver that we are 'testing' now asked me where I wanted to go. I replied that I wanted to go to a couple of shops near Breach Candy hospital on Bhulabai Desai road. He shot past the turning then remarks "Madam, you did not remind me that I have to turn right here!!" Wow, an assistant to the driver?!

Rubbished: The garbage disposal lady came to me one day and said "Madam, you throw away a lot of useful things. You should'nt waste so much money". Naturally, I was taken aback and for a day, stewed over thoughts of my hard earned money being squandered away, berated my lack of sense of planning or saving and killed myself for being financially unsound. Obviously my husband also faced my 'cribbing'. The next day, I met the 'kacchrawali' again and asked her "Why she thought I was irresponsible" (root causes again!). So she said "you throw away milk packets after you use them, also cereal boxes and sometimes soiled newspapers and/or disposable cups after use. You should store them and sell them to a ragpicker!" When I retorted that "it was my rubbish after all, and she was free to pick these up and sell them if she wanted", she replied "But bhabhi, I don't have time"! My new worry.. do I look that jobless?

Funny people... how do they all find ME? :)

Rely on Reliance?

2008-03-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

I have tried really hard not to crib, but today’s customer service call with Reliance really made me hot-headed and ready to cry (due to extreme frustration).

Read my story and you’ll know what I mean –

I work out of home (yes, I am a lucky b@$t@rd, I sleep most afternoons for an hour!). It means setting up a home office – basically a computer, a broad band connection and a land line telephone with STD and ISD enabled service. With the ‘vast’ choice of MTNL, VSNL and Reliance, I chose to go with Reliance. Before you wonder, my rationale was that, well, Anil and Mukesh have made millions out of their companies, obviously they must have loyal customers (not to mention that VSNL and MTNL never called back when I asked for these facilities!) So Reliance it was – their installation was admirable, within a day they had installed a modem and a phone line (Telephone calls are an important part of my business). They assured that the Internet services would be activated within 12 hours... and there begins my story of woes.

First the activation took 3 days, next, my broad band was Apple incompatible (I bought another laptop to solve the issue as Reliance refused to make their broadband services Apple friendly!) Then I got a bill for that month for Rs.29.7 and for Rs563.2, and I paid both without understanding which one was the right one. Several other billing issues followed, but I digress.

To cut a long story short, last month, I had to shift my phone line from one corner of the room to the other (as part of my redoing my room!) The Reliance guys were most cooperative, and did it in a day and said I would be charged 500 bucks for it. When I offered to pay it immediately, they said it would be reflected in my next bill and I should pay then. However, I paid my regular monthly bill for February within a couple of days of receiving it. (That is another story, how they send the bill and constantly harangue you as to when you would pay the bill, as if one would run away without paying it off!)

So yesterday, at 5.00 p.m., I couldn’t dial any STD number or ISD number. I called Reliance customer care to complain. Some nincompoop called Sanjay put me on hold for 3 minutes at a stretch to answer each of my 3 questions and then finally told me that I hadn’t paid my bill. I was close to losing my temper then and gave him details of my cheque payment. Again after 3 minutes of waiting he goes, “I am sorry, the system doesn’t reflect it. I have made the requisite changes and within 24 hours you would get your services back, but we shall do it ‘for you’ in a few hours maximum”.

So, still irritated, I held off until this morn when I realized nothing had happed ‘for me’. I called up R Care again to be greeted by silly Vijay who had the audacity to say that my STD/ISD wouldn’t be activated until I had paid the 500 bucks for the transfer of phone line. I completely lost it then, I yelled and raved and ranted at him and asked him to transfer me to his manager, who came on line after the exasperating reliance tune playing for 10 whole minutes. The manager said that I had paid the bill amount, but that wasn’t enough and that I had to pay the extra 500 bucks. I yelled at him too and said it was unfair, I hadn’t received a bill for the same, I wasn’t informed of it yesterday, when I could’ve dropped off the cheque last evening, (Reliance refused to send a person to collect the amount from home, when I suggested that) and that I had an important con call this evening at 5.00 p.m. (it is at 6.00 actually, and is REALLY important!) He then said ‘as a special case’ he would ensure that my phone line is reactivated by 5.00 this evening... and still didn’t seem to get what was wrong with his logic and acted AS IF he were doing a service to me. I hung up after adding that ‘I trusted him’ and I should’ve gone with an alternative service provider.

My backup? Trustworthy MTNL!!

I am still fuming over this lack of logic, insensitivity in dealing with a customer, inability to empathise with the customer’s problems, absurd billing system, incorrect English spoken by the customer representatives and finally, the need to ask for my address 20 times in a call that lasted 40 minutes.

Bah! Relying on Reliance is OUT.

Ps: Feeing better after the rant session... have you had any similar experiences?

Saved!

2008-03-11T06:09:00.000-07:00

Hola!

More than the other side of Rainbow, I have been trying to catch up on life, doc appointments, work, family, holidays and home renovations in the last few weeks. We are trying to create more storage space in the house and for those who know the pigeon holes that pass off as houses in Mumbai, know how tough it is to create that space. And of course managing the carpenters and the dust factor. Sigh!

Despite all this work, there is a lot of excitement in life....I had a miraculous escape from certain death or (even worse)some kind of head injury a few days ago.. I usually sit on the floor with my back to the wall and my laptop perched on a one-foot high 3-legged plastic stool on one side of a room. On Monday, we got a computer shelf made and I moved to sitting on a chair and working on this table in the opposite corner of the same room. On Wednesday evening, I was working furiously to finish some work when I heard a loud crashing noise... I turned back to see that a 5 feet long Italian marble slab(weighing about 8 kgs) that lines the top portion of our window sill had broken into two large and several small pieces and had rained down on the EXACT same spot where I usually sit. I was truly shaken for once in life.

Yesterday, I caught a cold... I went to the kitchen to boil some tea... Just a split second before I lit the gas, I decided against tea and turned away, only to smell something strange. So I opened the garbage cupboard under the sink, inspected the washing machine area, behind the fridge etc. to realize that the gas had been inadvertently left turned on by the maid when she was cleaning it. Gas must've poured into the room for at least 20 minutes. A split second away from another accident.

Call me superstitious or something, but for once I have this desire to go to a temple and thank the Big Man smoking his pipe UP there!

Moving on, given that I have been tagged (saved from thinking about content for another post!), I re-read several of my earlier posts to fill in the blanks. Hey, I do write well sometimes (note 'sometimes'..ain't I modest?!)

The tag reads "Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 keywords given (family, friends, yourself, your love, and anything you like). Tag 5 other friends to do the same. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better. Don't forget to read the linked posts and leave comments!"

Family: One post with memories of childhood. Otherwise, several references.

Friends: CP's surprise b'day party and my Bangalore visit.

Yourself: In almost all posts! Most posts seem to be incidents, rather than emotions. My list of favourites.

Your Love: I don't seem to have written anything about my husband, except references here and there. Perhaps, his happy b'day wish?

Anything you Like: I have written extensively about one great love of mine - travel. The entire Leh series, Goa and my recent office tour. Also, about some movies(TZP, Cheeni Kum) and some books.

It was tough going through this listing, but am happy I did it! I tag these people to do it - Nutty, Y not, In Between, and ITW.

Have fun!

Vignettes from my long trip

2008-02-25T22:07:00.001-08:00

Phew! am back to some semblance of normalcy again. From end of Jan to the 3rd week of Feb, I was on a roller-coaster whistle-stop tour across 5 cities in 20 days with my boss and her boss. Some memorable experiences from the trip include meeting a flower seller in Hubli, a jewellery shop in Chennai and an opulent farm house in Gurgaon.

It was a wonderful experience travelling to North Karnataka. Hubli as a city is probably not the best of touristy destinations, but the work some NGOs do there is touching and deeply impactful. We met this old lady at a microfinance organization who had lost her husband, her two sons and her son-in-law in a freak accident and had 3 daughters, 2 daughters-in-law and 7 grandchildren to support.... at the young age of 65! Amazingly she decided that there was nothing to be done by crying her heart out every day; she just rolled up her sari and got to work. She borrowed money from this microfinance institution (supported by HSBC incidentally... yippee!) and started a flower vendor shop. She did so well that she now has 5 flower shops, 2 vegetable and fruit shops and a tea stall. A business empire in her community! All in 3 years. And she has repaid her loan. She now takes lessons in the microfinance classes for women on 'how to spot a business opportunity, to have a business plan ready, to have well negotiated contracts with suppliers, how to treat colleagues and employees and how to invest to make enough money for personal and business expansion purposes'. I was tempted to learn Kannada just to attend these classes!

My boss's boss freaked out in Thangamaligai in Chennai(a large format gold shop.) It claims to stock gold for every pocket. The shop is a large 3 storied building just for gold accessories. He spent several thousand dollars in 4 hours flat marvelling at the make, the gold designs and the pure numbers that thronged the shop. His wife is one lucky lady I must say! He couldn't believe the number of gold shops in Chennai, not to mention silk sari shops and the perineal crowds that he found there. He refused to accept that there was any need in the city for an NGO! I had a tough task convincing him.

In Kolkata, we met several local community leaders. Cal as you know is famous for Indian Chinese. It is also famous for its laid back attitude, hospitality and the love of its people for good food. Each person that we met (usually over a brief meeting that naturally extended into a lunch or a dinner) took us to an Indian Chinese restaurant, 4 days continuously, for every meal. We ODed on Indian Chinese man. The best way to offend me now is to offer Indian Chinese for any meal! Never thought that the greasy Jet Airways parathas would be manna after so much hakka noodles and three treasure vegetable!

In cal we also had the opportunity to meet with Kiran Bedi. She IS a lady of courage, passion and conviction and an inspiring speaker. She sort of impressed upon me that it is 'best to be prepared' for anything one does. Sigh! If only I could implement that.

And finally in Delhi, we had dinner at this magnificient farm house at Gurgaon. Never knew of a person who owned a stretch limo in India, let alone with a house that had a dog kennel (with its own kitchen and dining area) the size of my house! A lawn the size of a football field, a marble floored house with a dining table that could seat 26 people and a Japanese loo that had a control panel that one could use to direct warm water or air sprays, lift or lower the seat or even flush! I must say that such opulence left me speechless (for those who know me, it IS a tough feat!)

Just settling into the normalcy of life in Mumbai, fighting my cook and maid and the istri-wala and catching up on news from friends. I have always wanted to travel constantly, be a jet-setting corporate executive type and none of the earlier roles I was in afforded much travel. I realise now, after this trip that no matter what, the joys of a five star hotel is never enough to compensate for fighting over an extra helping of dessert with my husband. In fact, I did not feel like dessert most days during the trip. (wiping my eyes! I missed home)

'Mi'Lady Luck?

2008-01-17T07:47:00.000-08:00

Be warned that this is a bit of a complaining post.

A friend of mine called me a few days back to heave a sigh of relief that life was sunshiney and 'luck had turned around again'.. she said she was happy to have broken up with her now ex and that he caused all the bad luck in the last couple of years in her life.

The American world seems to believe that starlet Jessica Simpson's presence at the divisional playoffs between NY Giants and Dallas Cowboys caused the latter to lose.

Several villainous grandmoms and some fathers in Hindi(and Tamil) movies(esp ref: Karuthamma) call the the daughter of the house, the harbinger of 'bad' luck.

Is it true? Can a person truly influence the 'luck' in another's life? What is luck after all? The planets conspiring to make things happen in a fashion that you desire, sometimes dream of. How is that caused by the presence of a person, many times a loved one in your life?

The reason am wondering about it is because I have been told several times(in the past) that some of the bad career decisions I made in life were not because of my (huge) judgemental errors but the presence of a certain person or other in my life.

Do you believe that a friend could cause things to go wrong in your life?

Am upset by this allegation.

I need to know.

This, that and Happy B'day!

2008-01-08T03:51:00.000-08:00

First, this media hoopla on the racism slur. For the benefit of those who did not watch Times Now this morning, the entire piece of reporting on the Australia-India cricket tour was accompanied by moving images and Bollywood music... so first we started off with ‘Chak De India’ (winning the last test series in India) followed by a 'Chale Chalo' from Lagaan with the Aussies looking angry and aggressive (like they usually appreciably do and then the Hindi version of 'Tamizha Tamizha' (from 'Roja') with Harbhajan and Sachin looking mystified and upset! Let me not even talk about 'Mumbai Mirror' or Sun TV which have both gone bonkers over the tour progress.

My tuppence: Hey team, "you" are our nation's pride, we love you whether you win or lose. So 'Media Channels' STOP please! Am more upset at zero NFL coverage when the Divisional playoffs have started. Sigh!

I read this really lovely book called 'The Places In Between' by Rory Stewart. The author walked from Herat to Kabul in Afganistan in 2002 and this book is a lovely account of the walk. Not just because it combines my favourite elements of cultural insights and a mission impossible achieved, but also because it combines bits of history(Babur's walk through the same places) and has a human, nay, canine angle (the humane story of a dog. Very quietly, there is an objective presentation of political undertones and the wonderful work done by Aid agencies.

My Verdict: A must read, especially if you loved 'The Kite Runner' and Afganistan or books by Pico Iyer or 'A Long Way Gone' by Ishmael Beah.

The best for the last - "Happy Birthday Husband" Hope this year rocks for you in every way and I hope you like the surprise I have for you. (The surprise is private, but I also got him a 80 GB iPod so that he doesn't keep changing the playlists on mine! How romantic, right?!)

Happy New Year to all of you.. Hope you ushered it in safely and hope this year proves to be a wonderful memorable year for you!

Taare Zameen Par

2007-12-26T09:10:00.001-08:00

Enough reviews have been written raving the virtousity of Darsheel and the subtle nuances of Tisca and Aamir. I loved the movie, no doubt...as testimony saw it twice in two days, both times in theatres spending a good 250 bucks on each ticket!My take, 6 reasons why I loved TZP.

1. I enjoyed the 'zara hatke' running-around-trees by dogs and children (which is natural looking) instead of an anorexic heroine and a constipated looking hero!

2. There were no items songs, no over-hyped villians, no, not even the Principal or the Parents!!

3. The classrooms have normal kids, not some superbrats or super-wise-beyond-their-years-grandmoms!

4. The movie really opens your eyes to difficulties like dyslexia and the varying emotions that both the child and parents have to deal with - especially the parents (from shock to denial to research to acceptance to working with it!)

5. Samir Mondal is certainly a wonderful painter... Loved the colors, the strokes, the vivid spectrums depicted. Geez, am becoming the artsy-f@rsty types, huh?

6. The music is YUMMY! I have refallen in love with Shankar Mahadevan, okay Ehsaan and Loy too, but def Shankar.

Umm, '7' is 'not allowed'. Picasso never understood the number! (cryptic reference.. watch movie for explanation)

Conclusion: I may have had dyslexia, but never got a chance to find out. I was made to slog even before I could figure out my 'b's and 'd's :)

ps: What did Santa bring? For my husband twas' a N95 Nokia and for us, a new set of wheels. More on that later.

A Vacation called Goa!

2007-12-19T04:25:00.000-08:00

Short as it was, and given the way our schedules look, probably the last vacation in a long long time, I really looked forward to Goa. Clapped my hands in glee, pretended the right amount of surprise and went along on the 4 day vacation happily. Given that we are vegetarians, I even took along homemade kakra, chevda and tonnes of 'munchings'!

We were booked into 'Club Mahindra - Varca Beach'. The resort was quite lovely, on the shore, with a lovely coastline that offers swimming and other activities like parasailing, speedboats, waterskiing, dolphin-watching etc. Also deck chairs and a coupla shacks that offer alcohol at unimaginable rates! Really low :) The resort is also quite kid-friendly was lots of activities for children from pottery to craft classes and cooking classes as well as round the clock inboard games (some paid, some free). Also, activities for the non-swimmers - evening tambola type activities (yawn!)

My surprise was at the number of signs in Russian... seems like Goa is the hot spot destination for the newly-rich Russia that wants to flaunt its wealth. We were at Benaulim beach in South Goa when a horde of Sarong-selling, Shell-selling, Beads-selling and other-unmentionables selling hawkers descended on the crowd. We are the only brownskinned lot there and it was funny how they studiously worked AROUND us. We were never pestered, not once!

A must do for tipplers is this place called Longinos (or spelt differently I think) in Madgaon. The costliest wines there were Rs.150/- a glass! The best of whiskies retailed for Rs.60/- a peg! Strairway to Heaven indeed! Food I was told, totally rocked with king prawns and pomfret. As for me, it was coconut water galore and dal-chaawal!

I realized that I hate to come back from holidays... in fact even the holidays themselves do not see me in the peak of enjoyment... my best phase is the anticipation of the holiday.. when I plan what to take, give the maid and cook a few days off, pack and double check my packing and finally lock the house to leave. Now that am back to work (lots of work), sigh! Goa seems like a far off dream... but like the Terminator says "I shall be back baby"!

The Power of Television!

2007-12-10T22:19:00.000-08:00

My friend's adorable li'l two and half year old was coaxed by us to recite a rhyme or anything his teachers had taught him at playschool...

He proudly recites...

"Blue Blue
God Bless You

Yellow Yellow
Dirty Fellow

White White
Orbit White"

and after a moment's pause... "Its working"

Ah! The power of television!!

December!

2007-12-02T21:08:00.000-08:00

The month of December brings a whole load of memories...

I grew up in a little township in Tamilnadu and december used to be the closest to winter there! December ushered in the month of 'Margazhi' when it was inauspicious to shift houses, get married or start a business. Instead a whole new host of activities centered around the temple would commence. For starters, all children would be cajoled/coaxed/threatened to participate in an early morning (read a ghastly 4.00 a.m) 'nagar sankeerthanam' (hymns sung on the roads of the township) replete with ash-smeared bare bodied tambrahms. Our jobs would be to wake up at an unearthly hour, bathe (yeah!), wear jasmine flowers in our hair and traditional clothes (read 'paavadai') assemble at the temple at 3.45 a.m, stand in rows of three and follow the leaders (the pious uncles and aunties) trying to follow the nuances of the difficult-to-pronounce Tamil bhajans (called 'Tirupavai' and 'Tiruvampavai')! (Pic: My sis trying to show off MY paavadai!)

Once that phase was over, in teenage, decembers would be spent in feverishly copying notes, 'mugging' lessons and trying to understand the hard-to-comprehend maths chapters for the half-yearly exams.

In college, decembers were the post-exam days-to-enjoy. Our mid-year assessments would typically end by early december and until the christmas break, we used to have 'timepass' classes. Professors would come to class, ask us to maintain silence and start correcting our answer-papers! So obviously, it was a riot :) Added to that, it was the busy cul-fest season. So yours truly would try to balance a debate here with an extempore there to a bid to quiz elsewhere. Fun! (Pic: This one year at an amusement park near Chennai)

In b-school, december again meant trim II papers, assessments and the CHILL of bhubaneswar. Enter the world of actual winters (I thought!) But there were also the late night dance parties and the midnight maggi sessions to counter balance the feverish days and nights spent in trying to understand Adam Smith or Phillip Kotler!

Work always slackens during December, except if you are in sales, and November end has seen you achieve 94% of your annual target. Then decembers meant trying to motivate a team that was ready to take a break anyday! But in corporate office, it also meant annual assessments, fighting with your boss on what you think your performance measures are and finally christmas eve fuelled daaru-sessions!

The one year I was in the US, december was magical. "Real" winter, lots of christmas cheer, the Rockefeller tree, Disneyland, plum puddings and discounts in Macy's! And SNOW! I was the only duffer who 'wanted' to shovel my driveway. I offered to shovel my Israeli's neighbours driveway too.. but I guess they did not want that (could it be because I had told them that I thought Arafat was one of the world's greatest modern leaders?!) (Pic: X mas tree with a Hollywood theme at Universal Studios, LA)

Hopefully this year, I shall create some more memories...Psst! I found out (by snooping of course!) that my husband has planned a trip to Goa with his friends next week. Am excited. My first time there!! Go Go Goaah! Yeah, I shall pretend to be excited and act like I did not know it... OF COURSE!

Enjoy the month! Have a wonderful festive season :) Spread the cheer!

Mummy Returns!

2007-11-26T19:47:00.000-08:00

After taking a long sabbatical from the world of blogging, I finally shook myself out of the stupor I was in... To be fair, there have been multiple activities happening in my life... Where do I start?

With the good news of course... my dear husband moved to a different role.. he doesn't peddle soaps anymore, but sells woundcare products... but that came with a promotion, so we got company acco too! I jumped at the chance to move outta my house (my landlord was throwing us out anyways!) So we are now in a lovely place overlooking the Bandra-Worli sealink, near the most respected elephant god of Mumbai. No noise, the sound of birds chirping (I swear!), the sea for company and a cutesy house. But no, it was no paradise... for starters, there was ZERO woodwork... no cupboards, no cabinets (even in the kitchen), nothing! So had to put up with the smell of sawdust and varnish, not to mention the sound and constant tripping over boxes of belongings! Nevertheless, it seems to be a better place now.. livable... gimme a month, and I can safely post pictures!

As if this wasn't change enough, I finally managed to gather courage enough to stand up and decide that banks did not work for me (!!) and I wanted to be in the third sector - the development sector. So I quit. Got a great job with a worldwide non profit organization (called 'United Way'). However, it was a quantum leap, not only was I moving sectors, I was accepted as a 'consultant'.. no employer, no PF, no office, no chai machine, no copier/fax/scanner, no secretary.... life took an about turn! Its tough to manage everything from admin to strategy to execution on one's own... and I've been struggling to cope... and traveling like planes are no longer going to fly!

Add to it visits from my mom and my in-laws to 'just meet me'! So, well, now that am back, there should be tonnes of new posts. :)

Meanwhile, belated 'Happy Birthday to me', 'Happy Diwali' and 'Happy Thanksgiving'!

Sound of Music

2007-09-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

This is just a compendium of all the events, products and feelings that cross my mind now (as am typing, trying to eat yoghurt-covered raisins, 'begging' my partner to pack his clothes for our impending house shifting and trying to watch TV) So go on, soak in some garbled ramblings.. in no particular order!

Morya Re...

Mr.Pot-belly himself has decided to paint the town red. Bombay has decided to celebrate on the streets and how?! Every day is a 'visarjan' (procession of Ganpati to the nearest immersion point). Thanks to living on the main road AND on the sea, I am close to over-dosing on the 'dhol' drum beats every evening. But the optimist, party lover and dancer in me cannot help but enjoy the revelry (yes, you guessed right, I AM a libran!) Some of the drummers are just fantastic. My neigbors across the street smile amusedly at me when we pass each other on the road... I don't blame 'em... I have been dancing with pots, pans and ladles while I cook. My kitchen overlooks the road with a direct view from the building across the not-so-wide road. And as if that were not enough, I even tried doing salsa and American jazz (or what I think are versions of these!) to the 'Ganpati Bappa Morya' dhols! Hey, credit me with marks for creativity instead of cruelly smiling. Jeez!

Mr. Prophet

It wouldn't be right if I did not talk of the other festival that is also going on full swing in my neighbourhood - Ramzan. I live in Mahim, in Bombay (atleast for a few more days). For those who do not know Bombay, this area has a pretty strong Islamic population co-existing with a pretty strong Marathi-Brahmin and Sindhi population. So, while the Elephant God decides to reach his oceanic abode sometimes as late as midnight, replete with band-baaja, the punctual Mr.Mohammed ALWAYS calls out in his sing-song tone on dot at ten to five...in the morning. Sigh! But again, the entire area buzzes with excitement, especially at about 7 in the evening with lights and (supposedly) delicious food (am a vegetarian!)

Oh Captain, My Captain

And the Gods did smile on our young captain Mr.Dhoni this evening. By a cruel twist of fate, my cable TV chap decided to cut off my cable connection... but I always believed that India would lose everytime I watched the match, especially excitedly. See, my belief paid off... India DID win! But, alas, no stop to the firecrackers going on and on and on and on and on.... in our area. Seems like everybody is happy, but sleepy me!

Om Shanti Om

In all this hulabaloo, I caught the trailer of OSO on NDTV. Man, SRK looks like a clone of Shekhar Suman! No, don't get me wrong, but he looks all botoxed, with veins popping out and no flab on his abs. Well, if I want abs, there is Salman and Hrithik and old pics of Guvnor' Arnie! Why SRK? Even his chocolate smile looks artificial as does his (erstwhile) melting brown eyes... he IS a bit old I guess. Too old to romance Ms.Padukone?

My Can

The boy in the Pepsi 'My Can' ad agrees. For my beloved friends on the other side of the rainbow, 'My Can' is the slim can version of Pepsi. The ad has a young boy calling SRK and John Abraham 'Uncle'. SRK I agree, but John???? He can't act to save his life, or Bipasha's (but neither can she!) But he does look great with his dimpled smile and veggie food tastes!

Other Ads

Loved the ad for T20 cricket 'appun ka sapna' ad. Lovely concept, getting young kids to talk of their ambitions and tie it up to 'Chota ho to kya, cricket, cricket hai'! Also the i-pill ad. Both ads are pretty emotive, therefore full marks to the ad. Also to the winking 'Spark' ad. Always loved 'Matiz'... still do, even in its new avtaar. Oh, I mentioned it before, also the Lays ad in Ladakh.

Discovery

Found an old cassette of 'Iron Maiden' the other day. Thought I would learn to love hard rock. Thought wrong obviously. Gimme, 'Ganpati Bappa' and my 'azans' anyday.

ps: Anybody want a free (old) cassette? :)

Friends, Nostalgia, Spirits and Bouncers!

2007-09-09T07:09:00.000-07:00

This weekend was exceptional. Having flung myself into the rapids of the corporate world (and struggling not to fall asleep in the afternoon or throw something at my boss) I realize I have established a monotonous daily pattern of life (sigh)!

Decided after three weeks of working that I needed a break :)

What better than to go back to Bengaluru (yikes, sounds like a warped version of ladies finger's tamil translation) to meet my good friend and ex-roomie. She is now in the US of A doing her MBA again (she wanted to study Kotler again?!) So it was a crazy day and a half trip... we met, yapped until our voices gave up (both of us are hoarse now!) started paying obeisance to Baccus in the afternoon (her dad opened a bottle of an amazing rye vodka from Poland), went shopping to 'Forum' (it is three times more crowded now than it was two years ago) and cribbed till we ourselves couldn't take it anymore! In the evening we went to 'Opus' a wonderful lounge bar with tonnes of memories from our past. A friend of ours went overboard and we had the distinction of being thrown out! All in all, had a lovely time bonding and letting my hair loose completely!

I realized (all over again) -

a) Bangalore is way greener and 'classier' than Bombay (native Bombay junta, stop reading NOW!) The roads are much more crowded than before, but the city still exudes an old-world warmth and genteel culture that is captivating and charming at once.

b) One should be happy with life, because there are so many people who laugh and party despite being under enormous strain (emotion, financial etc.) So to use my famous words again, maid not coming to work is NOT a big issue!

c) 5000 business contacts are good. 500 acquaintances are fun to have. But at the end of the day, it is the close '5 friends' in one's life who bring a genuine smile onto one's face and warm the heart!

Enjoy :)

Days 10 - 13: The Long Journey Back Home

2007-08-11T01:08:00.000-07:00

Days 10 and 11: Moonstruck

We left in the wee hours of the morning (a pattern to repeat steadily in the next 4 days) for Likir. The route is the endlessly shown "Leh" in all Bollywood movies. Flat stretches of brown landscape on both sides with brown hills a few hundred metres away and a straight road just dividing the brownness with its harsh black. We crossed the famous 'Magnetic Hill' where the car is supposed to go uphill in neutral (which I understood as no horsepower) After many childhood myths (of the Boogeyman, the Wicked Witch, the tooth fairy and Fairy Godmother being broken!) its hard to believe in miracles. So yes, it was an optical illusion :) We crossed the famous "Indus-Zanskar" river confluence (which has made a significant appearance in the latest 'Bingo from ITC' ad with the bumbling fireman in it) We visited a lovely monastery at Likir. It had a great museum with a painting that had an ancient form of snakes & ladders on it! Many of the artifacts had been brought to India in risky conditions across the border. Ladakhi Buddhism also has traces of an earlier religion prevalent in that area (called 'Bon') the remnants of which are skulls of humans and mountain goats at entrances of several monasteries (interesting, ain't it?)

We stayed that night at a local Ladakhi lady's household. Oh! I can write a book on the stay there. First of all, the village is barely 300 human beings strong. The house was 'manned' by a lady, her husband was in Leh, working as a teacher. Ladakh is are really forward in some of their customs. Men and women can get married and choose to live in the man's house or the woman's! So you bring home a bride or a groom! 2 of her 3 sons chose to be "given away" in marriage, and 1 of her 3 daughters decided to "bring home" a groom! Marriages are occasions for feasts in the entire village (thrown by the person to whose house the new entrant is coming in!) It involves the bride wearing a heavy head ornament with a line of turquoise stones being added for each generation of brides. Of course I 'HAD' to try it! Attest to its weight for sure! Not only did the two of us lasses try it on, we even ventured to dance with the women there. A corrupted dance form drawing liberally from Ladakhi folk dance forms and Bollywood inspired kitsch!

A second talking point is the Ladakhi kitchen. The vessels are kept GLEAMING and are displayed for visitors to show the prestige and status of the family, rather the economic well-being. The kitchen is the 'gathering room' of the house. The radio has a place of honour in this room. Kids study here... etc. Anybody can literally barge into anyone's house and will assuredly be served butter tea, chang (if they desire, and they do usually!) and dinner. The concept of 'athithi devo bhava' is at a totally different level here ( Imagine, for a saturday evening plan we spend multiple tens of rupees on calling and confirming, and re-confirming the timings and dropping into someone's house without prior warning is actually bad manners! How much we've lost, thanks to technology....sigh!)

We were given two rooms for our stay. We had to use the Ladakhi loo. Have to describe it (!) Its a raised room with a small roof and a door and a hole in the centre. In the corner you'll find a heap of sawdust and sand mixture and a shovel. No running water. If you are smart you'll learn how to balance a toilet paper roll and a torch. And no, it doesn't smell! The compost that naturally forms below the loo is used to fertilize the fields (am guessing!) The crops that grow abundantly in this area are barley, mustard and other crops that I didn't recognize. The crops literally surround the few village houses. Water is usually through a mountain stream that gurgles its way through the village as well (and provides for pleasant company through the night!)

We left the next day with heavy hearts towards Lamayuru. We passed the 'moonland' in Ladakh. The beauty of Ladakh is that the terrain is really different with every third turn you make. The mountain-scape here apparently resembles the topography of the moon. I agreed wholeheartedly, except for counter questions on how I knew whether the moon does look like that! The brownness and silence of the moonland is eerie. Felt like a budding astronaut as well :) We stopped at a few more monasteries, notably Lamayuru, the oldest monastery in the Ladakh area. It had the loveliest wall paintings ever and a pleasant monk-guide. That night we stopped at a guesthouse at Mulbekh, our hearts heavy. We were on the Ladakh-Kashmir valley border and would leave this lovely district behind in a few hours.

Ladakh is home to a few peculiar customs(like all places I guess. Your comfort zone vs. someone else's?). In the mountains, people leave three stones one on the other to indicate that 'they had been there'. In olden days the piles were really useful both to inspire and indicate that human presence in that area was not new and was possibly nearby. The practice still continues.

As if to counter it, the border roads organization has these really 'funny' road signs all the way to Kargil. One really funny one was 'Darling, I like you, but not so fast'. Another one - 'Overtaker fit for Undertaker' and 'One more drink for the road or tea at home' (or similarly) But the one that most confounded us was the one in the pic. Pls be kind enough to tell me what you think it could mean!

Days 12 and 13: Jannat yehaan hai!

We left early to join the convoy to Srinagar. We crossed Kargil at an eerie 4.00 a.m. I can't tell you how my heart almost burst with the joy at how courageous our army was. The road is barely 100 metres from a series of hillocks that had been occupied by insurgents from Pak. A local tea-stall owner told us that they(P) had even built cement bunkers there, but our intelligence had failed to notice the activity until one patriotic (?) sheep ventured there. Its loving owner searched for it and found army bunkers with Pak flags flying, realized all his sheep were in danger, and rushed back to tell the local army battalion. The rest is well-recorded history. The entire road, the only link from Srinagar to Leh (and therefore to other sensitive army outposts) was the target and today is protected by a thick cement 10 metre high wall that runs along the road for a long distance. We reached Drass at about 5.00 a.m and stopped for chai. We had a really funny encounter there. The driver and guide took off for their morning routine I suppose and we were pretty sleepy. But the men decided to brave the cold and get us chai. We women decided to stay put in the taxi. The 'azaan' for the morning prayers were being called (and sounded lovely in the dead-quiet) After the prayers a bunch of men came shouting loudly in chorus 'Subah ho gayi hai, utho utho, Allah-ho-akbar'. They came right outside our taxi and peered inside (looking determined to wake up the sleeping male offenders) When they realized that the bundled up figures there were women, it was amusing to see their expressions change (they were genuinely sorry to have peered inside the window!) They quickly dispersed, and even stopped chanting their 'wake up calls'! Am guessing Drass residents that day had reason to thank us :)

The entire way upto Sonmarg and even upto and in Srinagar is highly patrolled. Military everywhere. You feel really safe and as a tea stall owner in Sonmarg told us "a few free teas to military personnel is a small price to pay for the future of my daughter!" Howzzat for perspective? Sonmarg hurt our eyes with its greenery and beauty. After the stark terrain of Ladakh, Sonmarg was a refined green Kashmir-of-your-dreams in contrast. I have to commend the J & K tourism board for the way they've developed Sonmarg. Nothing short of resorts in Europe (umm, at least Scotland!) Well marked paths, clean mountain side, dustbins everywhere, information centres, clean loos with running water(ah! we'd missed civilization!) I made a note to return sometime in life! Would give the Alps a run for their money any day (if you manage to ignore the military presence reminding you of the tension in that area)

We reached Srinagar. The other couple chose to leave that day, but for sentimental reasons we decided to stay put (we had come to Srinagar for our honeymoon a couple of years ago!) We slept the whole morning, washed our dusty hair in warm running shower water(bliss!) and ate non-aloo food (after 12 days!!) Visited the dal lake in the evening (just like that) Went on a lovely shikara ride, ate 'nadru yakhni' (a lovely vegetarian dish with lotus roots in it, i HIGHLY recommend it) and opened a bottle of wine to celebrate our holiday. Oh, the other lovely drink we had was 'Khawah' (also pronounced 'kahwah') A lovely Kashmiri chai, with dry fruits chopped into it. Left the next day with a heavy heart, headed back to the rainy mess called 'Mumbai', arrived late and tired to a musty unwelcoming home and now, after a month, our entire trip seems like a dream.

The biggest lesson learnt? People live in amazingly inhospitable terrain with nary a complaint and if my maid doesn't turn up for a day, I lose my temper and good humour completely. The military live in cold(really cold) inhuman conditions to protect us (without proper food, and backsides frozen off most times) and here I am, complaining about bad roads or an eyebrow shaped slightly wrong (like by 0.0001 mm) This holiday really put things in perspective. About how to keep one's sanity intact, and not freak out about small issues. And that there is more to life than bad bosses or a bad hair day or ill fitting clothes or a grumpy husband. Keep smiling, life is short, enjoy it!

Leh: Gompaaaah!

2007-08-02T08:21:00.000-07:00

Days 7 & 8- Leh, Day 9 - Tso Kar

After the strenuous journey to Pangong and our health-related misadventures, we decided to take it easy the next couple of days. We decided to do some local sight-seeing and SHOP :)

To sight-see as much as our hearts desired, we set off early. We decided to catch the Buddhist monks chanting their morning prayers at Thiksey monastery. It was a wonderful experience hearing them chant together, but what is really cute is the duty roster for the little boy monks. The kids, at a mere glance from their headmaster, run to fetch pails of butter tea(a typical Ladakhi concoction that is made with oodles of butter and salt, and is no where close to tea! Its like soup actually) and is served during the chanting at regular intervals. Ladakhis drink butter tea with 'sampa', a barley powder. This concoction preserves heat in the body and is favored by natives of the area especially during the harsh winters. It requires some effort to get used to, but hey, you persevered with (yucky) beer, didn't ya?!

A typical monastery would have an assembly room, where the monks gather and chant, hold meetings, discourses etc. This room would also contain Buddhist scriptures arranged in 4 levels - the highest level is for the enlightened masters, the one below for experts of Buddhism, the third level for people with some knowledge of Buddhism and the lowest for people like me, whose knowledge on the subject is negligible. A small room behind the assembly hall is a 'Pure Room' that houses a version of the most important deity and is usually not accessible to the public. Another room houses 'Protector Deities', sometimes their eyes are blindfolded so as to protect the common man from getting intimidated by their fierce expressions.

And then of course a separate living quarters for the monks. What is amazing in Ladakh (and possibly Buddhism) is the way the monks are part of the society. Coming from the South of the country, where holy men are put on a pedestal and on some days of a month women not allowed to meet them and a million other rules imposed, I was stunned by the 'accessibility' of the monks here. Yes, they are respected, even revered, but they do not hesitate to eat and drink at a local hotel(for instance) or flag a car for a lift or pose for a photo (unsmilingly sometimes!) and participate in archery competitions(yes!)

We proceeded then to Hemis monastery, which is easily the most-photographed gompa in Ladakh. A lovely place with a huge statue of Guru Padmasambhava.

We then drove to a place where we could dip our feet in the river Indus. Oh! it was heady, the thought of dipping my feet in the waters of the river that gave its name to our country. And yes, brrrr! def chilly even in the hot sun. We drove through fields to reach a Ladakhi home for lunch that day. We were offered butter tea(which strangely I quite liked) Being in good health that day, we decided to give the local 'spirit' a 'shot'.. 'Chang', made from barley tastes like fermented buttermilk (yes, difficult to imagine, fairly difficult to like as well!) Imagine me turning down a second drink (that was a first for me!) Food consisted of a dish made of radish leaf in milk with saffron thrown in for good measure, rice and 'sku' (a sort of stew with balls of barley dough) I was the only one who loved the experiment (all the men attacked the next tea shop for plates of 'maggi', talk of 'adventure'.. bah!)

To cut a long story short, over that day and the next, we also visited a local ladakhi palace or two, a stupa built as a symbol of friendship by the Japanese and a couple of other monasteries, which were also colorful, spiritual and beautiful.

On the second evening, we returned to Leh early to commence our shopping expedition(raison d'etre et al!) . G1 and I left our respective partners behind and ganged up with my friend R. The three of us bought earrings and beads till we were tired of seeing any more turquoise, jade or yak bone accessories. We also bought a 'singing bowl' used in incantations, a lock, some printed 'thankas'(paintings), t-shirts... basically the entire flea market. (Locally ladakhis feel that they are more scrupulous than the Tibetans who've set up flea markets EVERYWHERE!) Anyways, with our purses literally empty and our hearts happy, we had a wonderful dinner at 'Summer Harvest' (the best restaurant in Leh), walked back sated, little knowing the horrible adventure that 'leh' ahead.

The next morn, we decided to go to Tsokar, a lake about 3 hours away from Leh, popular for the salt deposits on its shores and some Brahmini ducks(which G insisted that he wanted to shoot). You guessed right, the weather turned the 'worst ever' that we had seen. By the time we hit the second highest pass (which we had to cross), we'd given up on reaching Leh alive. For the first time, we saw the guide and driver grim (and obviously it didn't add to my spirits at all) The last stretch of the road was HORRIBLE. We reached a huge field with just one tent and a man beckoned us inside - our own St.Peter showing us heaven, and he offered us hot black tea (read 'manna') We were shivering crazily. Barely could hold the hot glass without our hands shaking. With the tea inside, G1 and I decided on a crazy adventure, we decided to go out in the freezing snow and rains, to pee. Remember what Forrest Gump says? "when you gotto go, well, you gotto go". With that philosophy we bravely bore 'frozen backsides' (ye women of the world, do empathize!)

Stayed in that tent next to a kerosene stove for all of 4 hours till the rains decided to well, 'go away for another day'. As we sat there getting warmer, we bonded with teh simple villagers selling hot tea in the tent. Even danced to some vague Ladakhi music, much to their amusement! G in his foolishness decided to shoot the ducks. The ducks? Ha ha ha! Anyways, we left the minute we could. But to date, I thank that chappie in the tent, with his two consorts who saved my life and soul for another adventure another day with his hot black tea!!

Once we returned we packed our stuff. We had to leave Leh the next morning on our long journey to Sringar, through Kargil. More on that soon. Watch this space!!

In tough times, simple acts of kindness seem overwhelming. Little Acts, Great Joy!

Pangong Tso : SO blue!

2007-07-23T02:30:00.000-07:00

Days 5 & 6: Pangong Lake through Chang La

After our adventure to Nubra and back, we felt like homegrown Ladakhi lads and lasses and bravely decided to travel to Pangong lake the very next day. To get to Pangong, we traveled through Chang-la - the third highest motorable road (in the world, I think!). Ladakh is a region of extremes - if the weather is bad, it is horrendous, but if it is good, you wonder why you'd ever want to go back to Bombay. The colours are unimaginable - vivid greens, bright yellows, sparkling lapis lazuli blue, shades of burnt sienna - made brighter and more dazzling by the pure, crisp mountain air. The weather gods bestowed their heartiest blessings on us as we set off for Pangong.

After Khardung-la, Chang-la was a breeze. We stopped, took some pics and hurried towards Pangong. We took packed lunches with us - quaint lunches! Cardboard boxes with cucumber sandwiches, two biscuits packed in foil, a boiled egg (which of course I traded), a boiled potato (I got in return) and a kit-kat. Howzzat? We had lunch by a lovely bubbling brook an hour or so before Pangong (which is about 6 hours drive from Leh, at least). Military has a really strong presence en-route. It is heartening to see how the lives of the local villages there have been enhanced by military presence - regular supplies of essentials, primary health centres and a strong sense of security.

We were busy taking pictures of tall mountains and the bubbling brook that gave us company till we turned a corner - we were knocked out, I was speechless (an immense feat if you know me even slightly!) A lake with every imaginable shade of blue. Light blue,Sky Blue, Electric blue, Lapis Lazuli, Royal Blue, Indigo, Turquoise, Sapphire (any other variations?) What makes the entire picture even more striking is the range of mountains that create the border in the deepest shade of brown. The lake stretches a long way, parts of it are inaccessible except to local Ladakhis and the military. I was moved to tears by the pristine beauty. Felt I was in a calendar picture.

Pangong-Tso is a salty lake (Tso means lake in Ladakhi) About 80% of the water of the lake belongs to China and the remaining 20% to India (thank God we get to see atleast the 20%) From the banks of the lake one can see mountains and peaks in Tibet (which China now claims as part of its territory) We stayed in a JKTDC run resort (a fancy term to use for the basic acco) It has about 8 rooms and 6 tents and no running water in any loo(!!), also musty sheets and just 2 staff to run the show entirely. But every room has a huge window overlooking the lake and the staff (esp Mr.Raj Mukherjee) are REALLY courteous (the Hiltons of the world could learn some warmth and hospitality from him) We took a long walk alongside the shore. Its hard to describe how the beauty affected me, but for once I really forgot to carry the sorrows of my existence with me - I was filled with a deep happiness for the world and esp my partner. All that mattered was “us” and the blue lake. Felt invincible and strong, but insignificant and tearful at the same time (my Libran scales see-sawed wildly, you can see!)

The blue of the lake was scientifically explained to the distracted-me. Something about Raman's effect - thin air and the position of the sun causing the shades of blue. The three men in our group were excited about the physics and science behind it, and the two of us non-engg people (both women as well!) were mooning over such a lovely creation and ecology and the need to preserve it for the future generations. Differences, differences! Dinner there was a simple affair. The beauty of the night sky was another glorious sight. I wonder if you have really see the milky way, replete with cosmic dust? We actually saw it stretching into the distance. "Ten million saw I at a glance" (to misquote Mr.W's verse and reference) Every inch of the sky hosted a thousand stars. Our excitement levels crossed all previous limits.

We barely slept (mostly excitement, partly musty sheets) Were up and about in time to catch the sunrise. Then the other lady(G1) fell sick - violently. Food poisoning accentuated by lack of sleep. Another mis-adventure. We rushed to the nearby PHC. Got her some medicine and proceeded to Leh immediately. She got quickly better en-route; so we decided to gate crash at a village fair held in honour of His Holiness the Dalai Lama's b'day on the 6th of July. The entire area congregates at a grassy knoll on the banks of a stream (water from the Indus), pitches tents and sing, dance, make merry. They bring stoves to cook food as well. Men and women were dressed in traditional attire. Our guide added tongue-in-cheek that it was the best way to meet the most gorgeous women (for him!)

All in all we were feeling upto more Ladakh more than ever before. The next day was spent in traveling to local monasteries. We got a chance to take a peek into local life - but more on that on another day!

Spirituality is belief in recognizing and appreciating beauty, its creation and existence. We need to do our bit to preserve what has been handed over to us. Reduce using plastic.

Nubra Valley: Camel Humping!

2007-07-17T03:46:00.000-07:00

Days 3 and 4: Khardung-La - Onward to Hunder and Deskit

After two days of lazing around, we mustered enough courage and energy to drag our backsides to our ever-ready Qualis to conquer the highest motorable road in the world. Yeah, you read it right, in the WORLD at 18,385 feet (when you realize you are not more than 6 ft tall, imagine where we were headed!) It was a pleasant morning. Slightly cloudy. The guide gazed up at the sky worried, but before he could say anything, I sneezed. If you are the least bit superstitious, you should know it is unlucky. We bundled ourselves in woolens (all the woolens we possessed in our sunny days at Chennai and Bombay!) The Qualis set off. As it wound its way up several mountains inexorably towards Khardungla, one of my friends fell prey to Altitude Sickness. He quickly popped several pills, fell asleep and missed what was to come next. Bad weather? You guessed right. But did you guess SNOW? In July??? Yeah, it snowed so much that we could barely see half a foot ahead of us. The roads were bumpy and not fully laid out either. We prayed to all the Gods, Sub-Gods and even the Asuras. Suddenly in the swirling white mass, the guide announced that we were at the pass. ('La' means 'pass' in Ladakhi. Therefore Khardung-La, and later Chang-La and Tanglang-La) We stumbled outta of the jeep to be hit by a fierce wind whipping off our woolens and chilling our very bones, even our thoughts. We rushed into the vehicle again, only to be assaulted by a wave of breathlessness again. Sped towards our destination.

After an hour, the scenery changed completely. The hills moved from white to brown again, and in the next thirty minutes even to green. The sun rushed out quickly to welcome us to Nubra valley and we gladly stripped outta our top two layers. We stopped at Panamik, where some natural hot springs attract tourists. Had HOT black tea, ah! Ambrosia, after the cold ride. Proceeded to Hunder. To get to Hunder, we drove across a river bed(imagine!) Hunder is the last civilian stop before Siachen glacier. We felt totally patriotic coming this far, almost to the borders. :) I even sang all the national-integrations songs I knew(and that is a good number, I am a Kendriya Vidyalaya alumnus!)

The Hunder area is famous for its sand dunes and Bactrian camels. Sand dunes like the kind you would see on a sea-shore. Geographically, India as a subcontinent moved away from southern landmass called Gondwana to attach itself to Laurasia, squeezing a sea called Tethys in the process. The sea folded up to create Himalayas, and left behind sea-shells in Nubra (amazing, right?) Okay, my facts may be a bit skewed, but was stunned to see the sand dunes in Ladakh (the last time I had uninhibitedly played in similar sand dunes was two decades ago, in my home town Kalpakkam, which boasted of a virgin beach those days) We had the pleasure of riding two humped camels, peculiar to this area. These camels were once part of the great silk route, and originated at Turkistan (now Turkey). Nomads left behind the ailing and old camels, which mated and miraculously thrived in Nubra. Their great-great-great-grandchildren now provided me with the ride of my life!

We stayed overnight at a lovely camp, with a bubbling brook running thro' its boundaries. It was an organic resort with lovely flowers and green veggies. We had the pleasure of meeting and talking with some bikers from Bangalore who literally had to plunge their feet into boiling water to save their toes from frostbite(they had ridden thro' the snowstorm previously described) What was even more pleasant was the presence of a WorldSpace radio. Guiltily ignoring the one non-tam in the group, we tuned into KL Tamil radio and listened to Ilayaraja's hits. Black tea. Tall trees. Bubbling brook. Bliss.

The next morning, we proceeded to Deskit. A lovely monastery with a gory tale. Apparently an intruder's head and arm were chopped off and reposed in a statue of a protector deity. Gory! We saw a unique Tibetan lock for the first time. The lock has an ornate key and has a unique locking mechanism with a piece of metal sliding into close it. Difficult to explain. Figure it out yourselves from the pic!

This time on our way back, in excellent sunny weather, we stopped at the pass. To our relief saw tonnes of army personnel. Jai Jawan! Measured our oxygen levels (mine was low!) Took pics. Bought a souvenir cap. Drank tea. The men peed over the hillside (vicarious pleasures... men!!) Felt 'on top of the world' :) How do firangs keep themselves so fit? I felt like a winner when I managed to walk twenty steps from my jeep on top of the pass without stopping once, only to feel sorely like a BIG loser when I spotted two firangs riding up a bike (I mean a bicycle) They had come all the way from Leh. They stopped on top of the pass for a minute, drank water, gave high-fives to each other and rode back. Well, who wants to dope and ride a bicycle? (yeah, I am maligning them! Sore, oops, sour grapes!)

Drove past the Khardungla frog (a rock shaped like a frog) Returned to our hotel in Leh, happy, satisfied with our first trip, and in hindsight, feeling good about our snowy adventure.

Little did we know about our next adventure to Pangong lake!

In the difficult ride, I remembered all the apologies I hand't made, the loved ones I had lost touch with and cursed my cell phone for no coverage.

Leh-Berry!

2007-07-15T22:29:00.000-07:00

Days 1 and 2: Leh bound.

We arrived at Leh, all excited and raring to go. Me, my better half(P), his best friend (G), best friend's gal (G1) and my dear friend R. Even the runway is different at Leh, short, leading into the mountains and heavily fortified on all directions by the military. The first glimpse is raw, shocking, breathtaking. Bare-as-your-backside brown mountains, some wearing white snow hats, brown ground, harsh, stretching into the horizon with nary a river and suddenly a green patch, houses, a runway and boom! you are at Leh.

We were met by our extremely helpful guide Stanzin and the impish, young-but-really safe driver, Punzo. Our luggage arrived and we headed towards our hotel Namgyal Palace, craning our necks outside the Qualis for our first fill of the city. Prayer wheels (called Manes, pronounced muh-nay) in any direction we turned, also low arrangement of stones shaped like a low wall (creatively called mane walls!).The 'manays' have religious significance. So, much like the Hindu 'pradakshinam' concept, the correct way to go around the manay is clockwise. 'Manays' dot even the centre of the roads (quite like temples in the middle of the road in South India), the driver always drove past on the left side! The Ladakhi people seemed friendly, with tiny crinkly wide-set eyes, a smiling mouth, petite build and cheerful and hardy countenance, going about their daily business - school, shops, office et al.

We reached our hotel - new, painted a pista green, on Fort Road, checked in, sat at the window taking in the clean air, the brilliant mountain view and telling each other that altitude sickness is a silly concept, written in books for paranoid people. A couple of hours of jumping around and wow! altitude sickness (alternately called mountain sickness) hit us, and badly. Headaches, nausea and breathlessness. As it is, none of us would fit into size 32 jeans, even remotely, so you can imagine the amount of oxygen our bodies would need... so cursing the heights, we all hit the sack.

And stayed there for the next 48 hours.

Ventured out on day 2 evening to the bazaar. Couldn't walk uphill (a bare 15 metres) without stopping thrice. When we made it finally, we felt as though Mt.Everest would be an easy conquest ( a feeling that visited us regularly over the next few days) Walked 'down' one street, decided we were not acclimatized enough.

Came back to the warm confines of our hotel rooms and slept again.
Breathing cool CLEAN air (after mad Mumbai), air that smelt of the snow, the freshness and curiously of Glad Mountain room freshener!
Dreaming of our next day's trip to Nubra Valley.

Travel opens ur mind to worlds that are different - you learn about the place, about yourselves and about your companions.

Jul-Leh!

2007-06-28T07:13:00.000-07:00

Am off to Leh and other places in the Ladakh area for our annual vacation. Can't stop jumping around in excitement... can already visualise the monastaries, the blue sky, the mountains around, Indus, Pangong lake, homestays, traditional Ladakhi food, Kargil and the bravery it symbolises, the beauty of Srinagar... Ah! am half there.

Shall be back in time for Mr.Potter. More on my travels later.

As they say, Julley!

Viva Las Vegas!

2007-06-22T02:51:00.000-07:00

There is no business like show business

We watched 'Oceans 13' last night. George Clooney is definitely uber-sophisticated. But I don't think Brad Pitt deserved the kind of rave reviews that some critics gave him. The movie is set in Las Vegas and as always, is a perfectly pulled off heist with nary a mis-step.

This morning I checked my mail to find one from my sister from the lovely city of Las Vegas (she is holidaying on the other side of the world for a few weeks with her husband)

Memories of the city flooded my mind. My first memories are to do with the glitz and glamour of the city which blinds you the moment it gets dark and the lights are switched on. The casinos wear their best finery and razzle and dazzle you with the sounds and sights. Its humbling to realize that the city was created out of desert sand. Especially when you stand outside a casino called Bellagio which has a huge man-made lake at its entrance. Yet another example of the Great American Marketing Gimmick! Oh, how they know to markets their smallest attractions. (ps: Vegas tag line - 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas')

Creativity, rather creative plaigarism is the order of the day at each casino. An Egyptian Sphinx rubs shoulders with the Eiffel Tower, next to a rainforest, past the Venetian gondolas, near an ancient Roman palace facing the MGM lions, behind shark infested aquariums that swim close to the Statue of Liberty. Gambling, drinking and the most beautiful women (and men) ever.... all available for what your wallet, conscience and wife permit you! Slot machines, baccarat, dominos etc. etc. - every conceivable way of blowing those greenbacks. You end up celebrity spotting with Paris Hilton buying 10,000 USD chips and Robert Di Niro walking to an exclusive private lounge. Margheritas on the street and adult shows in the foyer of your hotel. Everything is bright, colorful, enticing, exciting, luring you to lose your senses one by one.

We walked around the 'Strip' the entire night. Almost until 4 in the morning. Went back to our room happy and elated and somewhat curious as to why we couldn't replicate this marketing model in India (see what happens when you do two years in a B School!)

We woke up at 10 or so. Hung over with the sights and sounds of the city. Our hearts ached for more. We had a flight to catch at 4 that evening. So decided to do a few more hours of walking, till it was absolutely time to run to the airport. Dressed up, stomachs full, we rushed out... and then encountered the greatest of shocks. Vegas in day time is dirty(by American standards of course!) Visiting cards with phone numbers of 'paid escorts' litter the streets nestling beer bottles. The casino lights are obviously off and the buidlings look ordinary by daylight. Cleaners and repairmen work hard and efficiently to restore the casinos to its best-looking by evening. Vegas is ARTIFICIAL! With the make-up stripped off, Vegas seemed like an old, sagging hag.

Such is life, right? Behind apperances, there is always a reality that lurks somewhere. We believe in what appeals to us. Las Vegas is a dream, its a night-rider, a mind-bender and when morning comes, best left to its hungover, grumpy self by itself. What we think, is not, and what we think not, is.

What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists? In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet.
- Woody Allen

Alternate Maxisms

2007-06-22T02:22:00.000-07:00

At office, especially today, I was stifled for humour and warmth of any sort. So I fell back upon my tried and tested Mr.Marx, Groucho Marx of course. His quotes are as tart as a lemon pie and as witty as your significant other at the peak of your 'being attracted' phase! Go on, smile away!

I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members.

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

Who are you going to believe, me or your own eyes?

Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others.

He may look like an idiot and talk like an idiot but don't let that fool you. He really is an idiot.

From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it.

Ice Water? Get some Onions - that'll make your eyes water!

You know I could rent you out as a decoy for duck hunters?

You've got the brain of a four-year-old boy, and I'll bet he was glad to get rid of it.

A man's only as old as the woman he feels.

I must say that I find television very educational. The minute somebody turns it on, I go to the library and read a book.

I have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it.

If I held you any closer I would be on the other side of you.

Women should be obscene and not heard.

Why was I with her? She reminds me of you. In fact, she reminds me more of you than you do!

Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.

As soon as I get through with you, you'll have a clear case for divorce and so will my wife.

Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.

Quote me as saying I was mis-quoted.

- Groucho Marx

Of Rhymes and Resignation

2007-06-18T21:01:00.000-07:00

I have been reading up on poetry forms. (Don't ask me why - blame it on lots of time in my last few days here!) And decided to try my hand... results are as good as a child's first attempt at baking. Overdone crust and Undone insides. But well, persistence and shamelessness are traits I was born with - and I give thee a chance to sample my trials.

Haiku
Is a form of Japanese poetry with a 5 - 7 – 5 syllable pattern (traditionally). Poems are succinct, convey precise information and create a word picture in your head. Japanese haikus also have strict rules on usage of certain words - each word should convey a season, like a cherry blossom connotes spring etc. Basho and Buson are regarded the Haiku geniuses. English Haikus are not so rigid. Poems are three lines in length. The creation of a mental image is the only "rule".

Now I see her face,
the old woman, abandoned,
the moon her only companion
- Basho

More on Basho -
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Island/5022/basho.html

Tanka
Is another ancient form of Japanese poetry, dating to almost 1200 years ago. All occasions in Japan used to be marked by writing of a 'tanka'. Young men and women used to be judged not by the artistry of the poem alone, but also by the paper used, the syllables chosen, the kind of ink and the choice of symbolic attachment it went with(a flower blossom, a branch etc) The syllabic pattern is 5-7-5-7-7. Tankas are becoming popular in English too, with 5 lines of poetry expressing a thought, a season etc.

all day
rain has come down
drop by drop
the pain of your absence
has penetrated me

-Keith McMahen

Some more American Tankas -
http://www.americantanka.com/samples.html

Now that I have given 'gyaan' (!) herez my take on these two... on the topic that is plaguing my mind - my boss refusing to give me a relieving date from here, and anyways, after he does, then what?

Resignation Letter
Request Release Date
Pleading, Cajoling, Threatening
Boss refuses to budge.
Resignation.

Courageously Quit Office
Long Live the Revolution
Freedom, no job?

Fight Club

2007-06-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

I've always felt that the way a group of people reacts to a fight gives an insight into the "city's" character. And the following are my observations:

Chennai: If a woman is involved in the fight, the crowd is larger than before. Typically crowds are bigger during weekends and holidays, and in non-peak hours! And usually the voice of the toughest-looking person or person with some Govt. authority (Policeman, Postman, Bus Conductor, Watchman) is taken as judgment. Abusive language, mostly in Tamil. And I am biased because it is my hometown.. So no more comments!

Bombay: No one cares. (Scares me, for what if I get involved in a brawl?) Recently a woman screamed at a man for slapping her derriere and what was the shocking result? He pulled out a gun and shot her 18-month-old son (who died from the bullet wound). And it happened not too far off from where I live. A couple of friends and I once had a spat with a taxi driver, there were a few interested onlookers, but not one came to take our side or his and no one cared. Even if any of us had been manhandled, I don't think we'd've had any supporters or 'willing' witnesses.

Delhi: Is probably the worst. (Opinions based on events dated by 3 years) I could scream in Gurgaon about some man trying to pull my handbag and feel parts of my body I'd not want him to even stare at, and no one would respond; even worse, there is no one to respond. Cars whizzing by, people ensconced in their own private security. Who is that girl? My wife, my sister or my mother? No one.

Kolkata: By now you'd've guessed that this city is my favorite! A fight, any fight, is a joy to behold. Especially if you are NOT heading for the hospital or the airport or client meeting. Traffic halts completely. Passengers, Students, Chai wallahs, Bus Drivers, Taxi Drivers, Motorists and any one else, young or old, male or female gather around the warring factions. Light their cigarettes. Buy khullad chais. Chew pan. Discuss it with points and counterpoints for an hour or so, until the fighting parties forget the original reason for the argument. Content with the ‘intellectually stimulating’ discussion, everyone leaves.

None of these compared to what I saw in a different city in a different country (Trenton, NJ & NYC, NY) Fights never last past the fifth minute and usually end with a few bullet wounds/deaths and/or knives and policemen. Why do we want to compare Mumbai to Manhattan, I wonder? Why this apathy towars others? Why this "I've gotto get to someplace and I don't care if I have to trample someone to do that" attitude? What are we running for? Why this mad rush?

Give me my abuses and traffic jams anyday. Give me my discussions and interested bystanders. At least I live to see another day, another fight!

"Louis: I have to say, this is my first trip to New York...not for me. The garbage, the noise, I don't know how you put up with it.

Carrie: Thanks. I had a great time.

Louis: Wait, you're going home alone? It's rough out there.

Carrie: Nah. It isn't so bad.

Carrie (voiceover): If Louis was right, and you only get one great love, then New York may just be mine...and I can't have nobody talkin' shit about my boyfriend. "

- from "Sex and the City"

Grumpy Mee.

2007-06-10T22:43:00.000-07:00

Five reasons am feeling out-of-sorts and confused. Writing helps. So here I go....

a) Am just being invaded by the cold virus. Feel like Iraq, Afghanistan and PoK combined. My throat hurts and I feel feverish. I need a warm blanket, hot soup and tonnes of cuddles and sympathy. A cold/fever is a hotshot way to miss mom, ain't it?

b) I miss my partner. He is traveling on work. So am a work-widow until friday. So much for my I-don't-need-anyone stance before I got into this relationship. Wonder how quickly we adapt, right?

c) I have put in my papers at work. I know I don't enjoy the work here. I also know that this organization doesn't have any career path charted out for me. I have tried to rectify it and failed. I have taken a bold decision to resign because I am not happy. I don't have an alternative right away. I want to move to a different industry. I don't know if I'd get a chance to, immediately. I know I have some frustrating days ahead.... but I took this call, and it is my choice.

d) I have been waiting for the 'dreaded' monsoon to break out for 10 days now. Have been carrying a heavy umbrella, an extra salwar, wearing old clothes and asking my maid to hang clothes to dry inside the guest bathroom.. all in vain! Am convinced that Mr.Monsoon decided to go-go-gooaah and take a vacation there! Hate the unease. Hate waiting for unpleasant situations. Much rather go thro' it and get it over with.

e) A close (younger) friend of mine is not listening to what I deem 'sensible advice'. She naively wants to do something that am convinced would not lead to long-term financial independence. Simply put, I want her to write her GMAT and apply for an MBA, she is convinced that she should get her husband to do that, and that she'd continue to work to support him. What's wrong you may ask, the deal is that her husband is not sure if he wants to do his MBA! She is. Sigh! Such is life.

I hate being cranky and cantankerous, but am sure this too shalst pass.

Trivia for you.

Origin of the phrase "Saved by the Bell"

When our ancestors realized that they were burying a great deal of people before their time had actually come, they came up with a solution. They tied a string onto the "dead" person's hand, buried them, and tied the other end of the string to a bell and then tied it to nearby tree branch. If the person revived enough to ring the bell, their survivors would rush out and dig them up. Hence... "saved by the bell"

Morbid!

Surprise! Surprise?

2007-06-06T21:59:00.000-07:00

"Surprise, ssuurrpprriiisseeee", we all screamed.

She was shocked. Pleasantly so. Thrilled. Turned red in her face trying to control the multitude of emotions that ran through her - joy, excitement, love, delight... and all of us smiled/laughed approvingly, feeling thrilled ourselves for having been part of a 'surprise' b'day party. The party rocked.

Happy B'day CP! May today bring you lots of joy, fun times, good wine and lovely moments the entire year.

Why do we love surprises? Because we didn't know of it, and it is new ground? Because it is an offering of love? Because we are being given the spotlight, the hot seat? Because we know we are going to enjoy it? WHY?

"The moment two bubbles

are united, they both vanish.

A lotus blooms."

- Murakami, Kijo

Ps: There is a place called Surprise in Arizona. (http://www.surpriseaz.com/)

Ps2: My darling Wiki has the following to say of “Surprise”

Surprise (emotion)
Surprise factor, the fundamental element in humor that puts a twist on familiar subjects.
Surprise, surprisal, or self-information is the information-theoretic quantity , where p is the probability of occurrence.
Symphony No. 94 in G major, "Surprise Symphony" by Joseph Haydn
"Surprise" (Buffy episode), an episode of the TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Surprise (Zoey 101 episode), an episode of the TV series Zoey 101
Surprise, Arizona, a city in the USA
Surprise, Nebraska, a city in the USA
Surprise (Paul Simon album) 2006 album by Paul Simon
Surprise (Better Than Ezra album) 1989 album by Better Than Ezra
(T)Raumschiff Surprise, a German science fiction parody film by Michael "Bully" Herbig
HMS Surprise, name of various real and fictional Royal Navy ships
Military Surprise, a military strategy to strike the enemy at a time or place or in a manner for which he is unprepared.
Surprise!, an award-winning short film by Veit Helmer
Surprise, an animated short film created by Pixar Animation Studios for Sesame Street
Surprise Records, a record label
Fundamental Surprise is a surprise that indicates a personal or group mindset which became irrelevant or misleading in interpreting new realities. It is caused by disparity between the fast growing rate of complexity and disruptive changes in our reality and the sluggishness of reframing our mindsets.
Surprise Moriri, a South African footballer

Cheeni Kum - Especially post-interval!

2007-05-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

"You see, George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?"
- It’s a wonderful life

No, am not going to talk about the plot or the actors (I think enough justice has been done to them in various blogs and critique review) Herez a recount the top-of-mind thoughts about the movie 12 hours after I watched it.

- Tabu looked ravishing. If I weren’t married and if I had had alternate preferences, I’d’ve made her pic my bathroom beauty! (the only other time she looked so wonderful was in a tamil pic ‘Kaadhal Desam’)

- Loved the gumption of Tabu when she says she is going ahead with her marriage plans and couldn’t wait for her dad to die. (Aravindswamy in ‘Bombay’?) Or the nicknames they had for each other (‘En Arumai Pattikaade’, anyone?) Or the lighthearted repartees (a la Mani Ratnam – ‘Agni Nakshatram’, ‘Anjali’, ‘Roja’, ‘Bombay’?) Not that am complaining. Similar genre I think.
- Amitabh was cool. His ponytail and single-rich-man demeanor was brilliantly executed. (Straight out of an Italian Count/Greek shipping magnate/Mediterranean Prince M & B!) The only other man who could pull this off (debatably) is Kamal Hassan (yes, kill me non-tams!).

- Ilayaraja rocks (coming from an A R Rahman fan, it’s a lot!) I’d forgotten how his music was the most hummable(MS word refuses to accept this word) and romantic pieces ever. Pure melody. Velvet smooth. Reminds me of a waiting-to-be-loved, warm mellow feeling after a few drinks on a nice breezy evening. :)

- The cinematography was fantastic. Light. Airy. Real at the same time. Yet, a place I wanted to be in, not currently in my grasp. Brilliant! P C Shriram is brilliant.

- Zora Sehgal was a riot. Nutty nag. (here’s a secret, my grandmom-in-law is a WWF fan too!)

- Paresh Rawal should’ve been a Hyderabadi or a Tam Brahm. The characterization would’ve been perfect then (arguably). He seemed a little over-the-top, especially the drama at the end.

- The kid was wasted. Precocious. Too smart for her age. Too sad. Unnecessary melodrama. Her lines, atleast in the first half were great, then they began to jar.

- The second half seemed like a private joke.. a mockery of commercial cinema with laughable long speeches (a la the Angry ‘Young’ Man!), silly references (Iron pillar at Qutub anyone?) and suddenly dampening Tabu’s joie-de-vivre(notice her dumbness when Amitabh comes to put ‘sindoor’ on her maang..silly!)

Overall, a wonderful movie. After a long time (after tamil movie ‘Mozhi’) I laughed so much in the theatre and enjoyed the repartees to the hilt. Restored my faith in Indian cinema after a disastrous ‘Shootout at Lokhandwala’ last Friday! A must-watch.

"I love that you get cold when it's seventy-one degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're lookin' at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely. And it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
- When Harry Met Sally

The Pursuit of Happiness

2007-05-29T23:22:00.000-07:00

How many times in our lives have we started a conversation with "I want..." Pretty often. And once we do achieve the "I want..", do we stop saying that? No, probably not.

I read a couple of articles this morning in the papers that set off this line of thought.

# 1: Mukesh Ambani's house
Mumbai Mirror reported that he is building a 27-storey house with features such as helipads, mini theatre, swimming pool, 6 floors of parking space (to house upto 168 cars), two floors of guest rooms, 4 floors of living space for the family and 600 service staff to maintain the mansion. I wonder if he’d be happy with this, or want more, once it takes shape in concrete and mortar?

In contrast, my maid told me this morning that she is thrilled to have found a first floor asbestos roofed 1 room house before monsoon and she aims to buy a one room shack in two years time!

Who would be happier once they move into their dream house? Would they want more after that?

# Cars and Car Owners
Bluetooth backseats, warm seats, I pod connectivity, moon roof, run-flat tyres.. the list goes on. As if it were not enough to own a BMW, these are some of the extra features that are regularly asked for by BMW clients.

In contrast, my colleague has begun traveling by rick once she moved into this company. She says she is much happier without having to fight for a foot of space on the train each morning. She is saving up to buy a second-hand car in 3 years time.

Will a BMW go faster in Mumbai traffic as compared to a 3 wheeler? Who would be happier traveling in their mode of transport on a rainy day? Would they want more?

When some material, spiritual or emotional change brings us comfort, it doesn’t last, we want more. Want more salary, want children now that we are married, want to go to all jyothirlingam sites….

When do we start saying ‘I want’ and when do we stop?
Who is happy with what they have... my maid? Mukesh Ambani? Me? You?

“It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. How did he know that? “
- Will Smith in ‘The Pursuit of Happyness'

Ref:
http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?page=article§id=15&contentid=20070530022210718d7460de5

http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/Snootier_the_car_quirkier_the_requests/articleshow/2085109.cms

Best Friend's Wedding

2007-05-27T22:26:00.000-07:00

My best friend is getting married today. And I am going through a wave of feelings. We were really close in childhood and took some brave life-changing calls together. We did different things later on in life, and even lost touch for a few months in the course of life. However, the bond has always remained, for both of us. We still take off from wherever we left our conversations the last time and all the gaps - time, distance and life, just melt away. And till date, I am myself with her, no airs and no put-on personality, just me in all my truthfulness!

I am thrilled for her of course, she is marrying a person she has known for 3 years and am sure he would treat her well (as a lady should be treated) and bring her laughter and security on a daily basis (and I am hoping lunch to her on a tray often too!)

Am apprehensive about any tiny misunderstandings that could happen during the ceremonies and I pray her wedding goes off flawlessly (just as all her accounting papers in school would always go!)

Am feeling guilty that I am sitting a thousand miles away, typing this blog, instead of being at her side wishing her well in person. My spirit and thoughts are with her (it took me all my energy to drag myself to office today!)

Am feeling happy that she is going to discover a world of togetherness, of being woken up in the goofiest way possible, of enjoying wonderful moments of intimacy, of feeling strong enough to tackle the world knowing that there is a one-man army to back her up, of having a shoulder to rest on and a person to share the world and the rest of her life with!

My dear friend A, wish R and you a super life ahead.

PS: I know I have to do a lot of prayaschittam, rest assured, I shall, and hopefully soon!

Men, Cricket and Kitchen

2007-05-27T06:57:00.000-07:00

Am trying to understand men (I know the futility of it, but full marks for my tenacity!) Your views appreciated.

All men that I know (especially the ones who are married) cook at least a bit. But cooking is just creating the dish. It rarely involves the accompanying activities -
a) Cutting the vegetables (forget buying, washing/cleaning)
b) Getting the appropriate cooking vessels
c) Returning ingredients /spices to its appropriate place of residence!
d) Dumping used vessels in cleaning area
e) Transferring cooked preparation to serving bowl (actually, thankfully they don't!)
f) ZERO CLEANING!

But watching an F1 match or better still, a cricket match on TV gets men to do ALL of the following -
a) Adjusting the drapes to set room ambience
b) Buying beer
c) Putting beer in fridge (wow! you know where the fridge is!!)
d) Locating and using the bottle opener
e) Calling the grocer to buy snacks (Hmm!)
f) Locating the remote without assistance!!

Talk about conditional processing!

ps: Dear Men, will thee consider ordering food the next time?

Sikhs and Cicadas

2007-05-20T22:15:00.000-07:00

Two news items caught my interest this morning.

One pertained to the brouhaha over Godman Gurmeet Ram Rahim who leads a spiritual organization called Sacha Sauda(henceforth referred to as SS), which runs campuses called 'deras'. The organization has over 2.5 crore followers, several hundred acres of land (also used for agricultural purposes), runs charity institutions like colleges, schools and hostels and propounds a way of life that includes a certain form of yoga to be practised for a healthy life. However, SS has had a chequered past, with sexual scandals, murders and land cases tainting its reputation. SS is also supposed to have political connections with Hindu parties (translates to non-Sikh parties)

But the current controversy has nothing to do with SS's way of life, court cases or murder; it is to do with a dress worn by the leader on some occasion. Huzoor Maharaj Sant Gurmeet Ram Raheem Singh Ji (as he is referred to by his followers) wore a dress that resembled closely the dress of Guru Gobind Singh, the last guru of Sikhs, which really hurt the sentiments of Sikhs. This resulted in angry protests, a 'hukumnama' (edict given by the temporal body of Sikhs, the Akal Takht) that all deras (in various places) were to be forcefully evicted immediately. Some right wing radical factions of Sikhs even broached the idea of sending suicide squads to various Sacha Sauda deras.

So SS retaliated by deciding to hold blood camps on the same day (today) in its campuses.

Move.
Counter-move.
Counter-counter-move.
Counter again.
Check.
Mate.
Stalemate.

My opinion is this - at the end of the day its a garment. Did Mahatma Gandhi not ape Christ's last loin cloth? SS as a sect is non-violent. It doesn't advocate any negative philosophy either. Nor is it prejudiced against a race, caste, community, religion, country or social practice. If the leader preaches a philosophy similar to Guru Gobind's, so be it. Plagiarism is the best form of Flattery! By extension, SS followers are a quasi-Sikh community. Why not allow them their path to the Big One? Everybody has their way to God, hope, the Supreme, a super being, faith, fate, the Big Man with a Pipe, destiny, or whatever you wish to call the Un-named force. Restrictions are unnecessary and cause sectarianism.

"Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or out"
- Robert Frost, 'Mending Wall'

The other article I read was certainly lighter (though personally scarier). Not hundreds, not thousands, not even millions, but BILLIONS of cicadas are expected to make their way into Middle Earth from underground this June across northern Illinois, parts of Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan and Indiana. The monsters are red-eyed (yup, grandma always maintained horror creatures were red-eyed) and the size that scares me most... shrimp-sized. Fortunately, they do not sting or bite. But billions?

Their mating calls (chirping? More like mini wood saws!) are expected to drown most other sounds, including television and telephones. Dogs, cats and other insect-lovers can have a feast though, these cicadas are supposed to be high in protein. (yikes!) I believe they surface once every 17 years or so. They live underground (about a metre or so below surface), go through six life stages and in the sixth stage burrow a tunnel to the top soil. They wait for good climate (17 deg C) and then emerge like superstars. They then quickly molt and start mating. They are called 'nymphs' at the 'emerge-from-the-ground' stage. Then they turn 'maniacs'. (Yeah, used in conjunction with the 'nymphs'!)

They mate like crazy. In fact that is ALL they do for the next 30 days, the last 30 glorious days of their life, one super orgy(yeah, baby!). The males then drop dead from exertion. The females lay the eggs and die too. The babies once born just burrow into the earth for the next 16 years of hibernation, awaiting their prom-orgy!

Lots to learn from the cicadas... just love and make love. Why fight over clothes and the lot? Life is short. Chill, chill, just chill!

ps: All views are solely mine. And are not intended to make fun of or hurt the sentiments of anyone.

May mein...

2007-05-18T01:58:00.000-07:00

Things am looking forward to in rest of May

My ma-in-law's famous kozhakattais (modaks, sweet momos, steamed sweet south indian delicacy)

Thalaivar's 'Sivaji'.

Going home to be with my dad on his b'day.

My Insti's alumni meet in Bombay. (hope to meet batchmates after passing out ages ago!)

Buying some kurtas at FabIndia.

And some good times...for good times = Santori times! (I love 'Lost in Translation')

Cooking in Hell!

2007-05-16T02:34:00.000-07:00

As a child, with my parents and all living grandparents (3 of 'em) staying with us, I grew up royally pampered.Yeah, true!Never learnt how to make tea or coffee or even 'thayir saadam' (curd rice). I know it translates to 'ultra-spoilt' and sub zero cooking skills!

So that being the prologue, let me cut to the actual incident that occurred last evening.I decided to make a simple 'dal-palak' khichdi and cucumber raita for dinner last night.Decided one couldn't go wrong with cucumber raita.Peeled the cukes. Cut 'em beautifully. Salted 'em. Added milk, curd etc etc. And then tasted it proudly and professionally (yeah, like the cooks in 'Iron Chef').Then spat in disgust.

Did you know that there are some world-weary BITTER cukes in the world???
I learnt yesterday!

To the embarrassing sound of laughter-directed-at-you, I heard my beloved patidev go on to describe my cooking exploits many moons ago, to my ma-in-law. A hitherto secret gaffe,now out for the world to smile at!

I got married a coupla years ago. Traveled across many seas to a new home with a brand-new husband! Patidev showed me a kitchen bigger than my current house at Bombay!The next morn after he left for work, I decided to use my brand new Meenakshi Ammal 'Cook and See - I' and make a fabulous sambaar. (New Husband = Full Enthusiasm)

Like a good house husband, my patidev had stocked various colored spice-powders in similar looking jars in a row. There was a red one, an orangish-brown one and a yellowish-orange one. So I decided that the first one was 'sambaar podi', the second 'rasam podi' and the third 'Turmeric'.
Made sambaar EXACTLY as per proportions in the book.
Tasted it.
My tongues protested at the red-hot sting.
Screamed.
Drank a gallon of water straight.
Crying, I threw away the sambaar.

But I don't accept defeat too quickly. (at least I like to believe that!) So I tried sambaar the next day.
Same result. Trash.
Again the next. Same result. More trash.
Trash. Sigh!
Trash. Hated sambaar by friday evening.

Saturday arrived. My patidev announced he'd make sambaar :(

I decided to 'supervise' him :)To my horror, he pulled out powder II to make it(yeah the orangish brown one) So (with me quaking in my boots in 'realization waiting to occur') I asked him what the powders were.
yellowish-orange = Rasam Powder (turmeric is YELLOW only)
orangish-brown one = Sambar powder

red one = Chilli Powder (Drat, they powder chillies too!)
Did you know that there are three standard spices in a south Indian kitchen????
I learnt that day!

Felt as enlightened as Gautama Buddha.

Shall never stop hearing about this gaffe. Can already imagine a conversation 75 years later at a south-Indian wedding, with my grandson reassuring my grand daughter-in-law, "Oh, don't worry about cooking. You'll learn. Even in those bygone days, cooking was never an issue. Do you know what my grandma did....."

SIGH!!

Crossroads

2007-05-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

Have you ever stood at crossroads, wondering which road would lead you to your destination?
Felt confused?
Bewildered?
Prayed you were choosing the right one?

I have!

Personally, it is difficult to choose between two options. And standing at the crossroads, confusion prevails.

It is probably a better idea to choose a road, figure out if it is smooth enough, and if not, return to the crossroads to choose the other.

But what if the other one is bumpy too?
Is it wise to keep going from one road to another?
What if choosing a road is irreversible?
What if crossroads are important decisions in life... such as family, career etc?

Decisions decisions... too many crossroads in life.

Reminds me of Richard Bach's 'One', where he talks about many of us starting at the same place, but turning out differently because of decisions we make at each junction.

"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark."

I promise...

2007-05-13T21:36:00.000-07:00

...that I shall never be associated with Bacchus or Dionysus or Liber or the lot...grroooan!

"Little drummers in my head
Practising for the R Day parade
Did they slip in with the wine?"

The Comeback Kid

2007-05-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

As my rickshaw was perilously close to being crushed between a monstrous looking truck and an overcrowded bus in the maddening Bombay traffic near the airport, I promised the Big Man Up there that I would do many things, but needed to live with 32 intact to do 'em. It included getting in touch with long-lost friends, cleaning my clothes shelf, being more regular in my calls to my grandparents, losing weight(always!), giving up chocolates, not arguing with my partner...and reviving my fledgling of a frozen blog.

The thawing and de-freezing attempt is this post. (yeah, 'the crushing embrace' was that close!) In an attempt to leave a memory for posterity (if the world is not destroyed and blog sites do not become dusty libraries) herez my list of favourites ever & dislikes ever(relatively in my 27 wonderful years of existence).

Lets start with the usual.

Books I swear by
JLS, The Godfather, Love Story, The Kite Runner, Gone With The Wind, Bridges of Madison County, The Alchemist

Movies I'd've loved to be in
The Godfather, Silsila, Lost in Translation, Brokeback Mountain, Sound of Music, Crash, Roman Holiday, Casablanca, A Streetcar Named Desire, Mouna Ragam, Bombay(the tam version)

Places I HAVE to see
Srilanka, Greece, The Great Wall of China, Egypt, Jerusalem, Alaska, Leh-Ladakh, Kashmir, Disneyland, Scotland, Germany, Turkey, My dream home

Food I can't do without
Coffee, Chocolate(!), Italian food, VennPongal, Vella cheedai, Kozhakattai, Bhelpuri, Sauvignon Blanc, Mint Tea

Fave Songs Ever(for their associated memories, the music, the lyrics)
Uyire Uyire(Bombay), En Mel Vizhuntha Mazhaithuliye(May Maadam), Dil Se Re(Dil Se), Edelweiss(Sound of Music), Sweet Child O'Mine(Guns 'n Roses), Time(Pink Floyd), Losing My Religion(R.E.M), Come Undone(Duran Duran), Like a Prayer(Madonna), Top of the World(Carpenters)

Best Features in a person (what I dig, baby!)
Sense of humour, Dignity, Crisis management, Ability to laugh at himself...easily, Honesty, A ready smile, Dimples (that had to creep in there!) Of course being Successful and Famous and Rich help, but not much!

Pet Peeves

Spitting on the road...often
Rudeness
Raised voice
Violence, abuse of any kind
Letting parents/grandparents fend for themselves.
Pettiness
Money-mindedness
Eyeing other women openly
Kids crying (it breaks my heart)

I enjoy..

Being woken up with a smile, Smell of the first rains (petrichor?), Breezy walk by the beach, Romantic candlelit dinners, Surprise gifts, Sound of a deep-throated chuckle, Good Coffee, A movie/play/musical concert/speech that moves me, Stand-up comedies, Good simple food (Preferably my mom's!)

"Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things"