Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzz

"What begins with Z?

I do. 

I am a Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzz, as you can plainly see"

 - Dr.Seuss in A B C

Dr.Seuss at his magical best again. What indeed is a Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzz? It is a nonsensical creature, scary if you want it to be, harmless if you want it to be or an angel if you'd like it that way. All of us live some part of our lives in fantasy and how better to instill that imagination, but at childhood? Creativity helps us deal with life's realities. A little imagination helps us escape horrible truths. A little embellishing makes any story more vibrant. A little thinking out-of-the-box gets us multiple awards at office. 

So how do you get the brain cells to conjure up the Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzzs of your chosen field? By practice, by observation and by spending time and effort on it. Much like this blogging endeavor. The most creative of pursuits actually have the most arcane of necessities - practice. Sometimes the creative cells may have taken off to visit their relatives in Planet Krypton or may fight a bloody civil war with your fingers struggling to keep pace... either way, just "Z"ealously committing to the project is half the battle won. 

“You're off to Great Places! 

Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, So... get on your way!”

 - Dr.Seuss again.

Believe. 

Commit. 

Commit to your life. 

Commit to your dreams. 

Observe. 

Observe the effect of your words. 

Observe the people around you. 

Travel. 

Travel with your eyes, ears (and mouth!) wide open. 

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it`s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life`s realities."

- Dr.Seuss

Yaks galore.

The yaks are also sisters I guess, yakking away :) I was really stunned when my tethered yak moved forward. This pic was clicked off Manali, a mere 5 seconds before the yak charged forward. I have never sat on a yak after that.

Another memory yaks bring is of course the thick creamy yak milk I had at Leh, in a small little home (in Diskit), in 2007. The yak milk is like drinking full-fat milk, with the fat 5 times over. I could barely have a thimbleful.

When I visited Shillong, over a decade ago, I had the opportunity to sample a sweet that an old lady gave me in a tiny little tea shop, on the highway from Guwahati to Shillong. It was raining and I was shivering. She gave me a little sweet (looked like a barfi) and asked me to keep chewing it. She said if you chew it out completely, you'll feel totally warm, but you cannot stop chewing. So I chewed and chewed and chewed...and chewed.... and chewed. The sweet refused to melt or break down into pieces. It stopped raining and I stopped feeling cold. After a while, my gums threatened to fall off in protest, so I just kept sucking it.

On the way back, I stopped at the same lady's shop and asked her what it was. The wizened old woman said "Its not the sweet, but the philosophy. When you are cold, when you are sad, if you focus on the activity at hand, you will not feel the pain. We make this specially for our kids and old during winter. Its nothing but solidified yak's milk". I was stumped. Philosophy so true, offered so practically, a nugget that I treasure in my head to remind me that I should do my duty always. Bhagawad Gita in a nutshell, eh?

Wonder of Xmas in Disneyland

I missed my W post. I almost missed my X post too, thanks to the internet cable being relaid around the building. I was actually wishing for a fairy Godmother to help me complete these 2 letters and hey presto! It was magic :) Who more to exemplify magic and joy and presents than Santa. So that being the train of thought, I almost started blogging about the annual ritual of buying and installing our X mas tree. Then I remembered a Christmas that still holds special memories. The one we spent at Disneyland.

Disneyland is a magical place. Its as much for adults who are basically big children as it is for children who are small adults! On X mas it becomes EVEN more magical (yes!). We were treated to a special parade. The fireworks were extra special too.

A word for those who are yet to visit Disneyland. The rides et al are nice, no doubt, some thrilling, some fun, some experiential. But the area to NOT miss is the one for small children - the ToonTown. Its amazing how Mickey and Gang come to life. The tea parties and little houses and small chairs and the costumes and colors... just takes you back to childhood and almost makes you a believer! My husband had to literally drag me outta there.

The year we went, Santa was Australian! Hence the summery shirt. Of course I sat on his lap and walked away with a lolly, whaddya think?

Here's to the goodness of spirit. On a serious note, I do hope the innocence of childhood prevails, given the spate of rapes and child crimes in our country (and some others around the world).

VIBGYOR: Color me happy!

I wanted to do a real post with opinions or thoughts, but for some reason the acronym VIBGYOR kept coming to me. So I woke up this morning, actually unscheduled my earlier post on "Vulnerability" and began writing on VIBGYOR. Now being mommy to a really young infant (with night wake ups et al), I do remember thinking VIBGYOR, but can't recollect a word of the (hopefully interesting) post that I composed in my head. With colors, what better than "V"isuals? So here goes a photo post again :) 

VIOLET: I've loved the gorgeousness of this color always. This pic was taken when I was in Class VI, in a dress that I fought with my mom to buy. To put it mildly, it blinds ones eyes. Thank God it didn't have bling too! 

But I remember how my mom told me when I bought it "Kannamma, this dress is your choice. You REALLY wanted it. Now wear it with pride, confidence and the love it deserves. You'll look beautiful in it. And if someone says the dress is not nice, just smile at them and bounce even more, the dress does look great!"


INDIGO: Indigo is an interesting color. Halfway between violet and blue, it is often the misunderstood, misrepresented middle child :) Now Indigo always brings to my mind the story of 'The Blue Jackal'. And the airline of course. But I had never seen the color ever manifesting in the sky or sea.... I used to wonder whether it really existed or it was just a scientific term for a color that had different wavelength. 

My doubts were put to rest by the mighty Pangong Tso at Ladakh. I highly recommend a visit for words defy the range of colors that you witness there. You can read my earlier account of the lake here. 

BLUE: Blue brings to mind all kinds of things - from blue skies to blue seas to blueberries to kingfishers, but the blue that I always think of is the bright striking blue on superman's dress :) Yes, you read that right. The first TV in my house was purchased in 1988, when I was already 8 years old. I remember one of the first cartoons I watched was an animated 'Superman' who saved everyone and everything, including cats and violins. The blue on his dress always represented adventure and courage to me! 

Why will Mini-me like anything else? 


GREEN:  The first thought on waking up in Scotland was that it was just SO GREEN.  Meadows stretching to as far as the eye could see, in a lovely medley of multiple greens. The little white dandelions doing their merry jig. The gentle roll of the hills. The weak blue skies that threatened to mist over and cry. Just picture perfect. Beautiful. . 

YELLOW: Yellow, yellow, dirty fellow! Remember the ditty? I LOVE the color. It is the most gorgeous color in the spectrum. Happy, smiling, sunshiney! Yellow be the bright flowers on the roadside everywhere. The 'sarson ka khet' song ('Tujhe Dekha to') in DDLJ, where Kajol comes running to meet SRK? I was focusing on the field, not the couple :) Apparently the reason we love yellow is that it is the nearest color to skin tone (not pink, as that Fair and Lovely ad repeatedly drones on). 

ORANGE:  Orange apart from being a fruit and associated with Mirindaah!, always reminds me of the Bryce Canyon hoodoos. I already did a post on the Grand Canyon, so I am not going there again. Did you know that there is no English word that rhymes with Orange? (trivia for you!) 

RED: Red as the rose, red as blood, red as the sun, but red is autumn! The 'fall' colors of autumn is a sight to behold. I used to wonder as a child how the impressionist artists always thought of painting leaves red, simply because in South India, there is no 'fall'. And then one beautiful September in MA, it all fell into place. Entire mountainsides awash in oranges, burnt sienna, bright vermilion, carmine red... just beautiful. Red is my favorite color in the VIBGYOR spectrum. To me it represents the simplicity of childhood, the boldness of spirit and the beauty of independence. 



Here's wishing you 'saat rang ke sapne' in your lives :)

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.

"No one wants to marry you. You are so ugly". The words of her dad kept ringing in her ears.

She looked in the mirror. She saw her fat body. Her round large face. Her thin hair. Her small eyes. Her large nose. Her thick lips. Her excuse of a neck.

She thought of her late mother.
A lone tear crept down her cheek.

The next morning, she was at school. Hellen Keller School for Visually Disabled Girls. Commonly called HK Blind School.

At school, she began her lessons with a song. A song that carried to the heavens. A voice that thrilled the nightingales. Her students sang with her. Happily.

She began telling them a story. Of a Prince who lived far away. A magician who spread his magic around the world to make people happy. Of Princesses who were braver than warriors. Of Warriors who sang sweeter than birds. Of Birds who were prettier than flowers. Of Flowers who were happy and made everyone happy. She described the flowers - their colors, their fragrance, their beauty. She told them that only one thing was more beautiful than these flowers - their mothers. She asked them to buy a flower for their mamma that day and give them a hug.

Lessons over, she came back home.

Her dad welcomed her with "4 boys have rejected you again. You are ugly. You are merely a teacher, not even a doctor or engineer, so boys will marry you for your job."

She walked to the bathroom to change. The windows, the door, the mirror all screamed in welcome to her - Ugly, Ugly, Ugly.

She thought of her late mother and steeled herself.

The sun rose the next morn. Wearing her fave pink kurti, the one she thought made her look sweet and happy, she left for school. She had dressed with care. She always did, especially when she was down and out.

She reached school and was greeted by one of her shy students - Mallika. The girl said "Ma'am, my father wants to meet you. Can I bring him?"

Her dad stepped forward.

Mallika said "Ma'am, I want to give you this flower, you are the most beautiful woman ever." She walked away.

Her dad said "I can see why Malli has been talking of you day and night. You ARE indeed beautiful. My wife passed away 3 years ago, a few months after Malli's birth. Malli was withdrawn until she joined this school. After joining this school, she has only been able to talk of her beautiful teacher who sings like a nightingale, who looks like an angel. I now know why she said that, you are an angel in every way, beautiful in AND out. Please don't mistake  me, do you think we can meet for coffee after school?".

She agreed. They met for coffee. The rest as they say is history.

She married him a few months later. Was whisked away in a Merc. You see, Mallika's dad owned the country's largest vineyard AND largest shipping company.

He reminded her how lucky he was EVERYDAY and said "you are beautiful" everytime they spoke.

The day she left her home, her dad said "you are so lucky. How did he agree to marry an ugly woman I wonder?"

She walked into her bathroom. "Hello old friend, You look SO BEAUTIFUL", the mirror said to her. She only saw her beautiful luminous eyes, shining with hope for the future. Her face, round as the moon, her hair in a stylish new cut, her nose adorned with a pretty silver ring, her body encased in well-cut clothes, her smile lighting up the entire universe - a woman in love.

She thought of her late mother.
A lone tear crept down her cheek.



Ugliness is never skin deep. The ones who are truly ugly, are the ones with a black heart.

Twirls and Twists

In 2005 - 06, I lived in Bangalore. I was single then, and it was that stage of my life when I could easily try new things without having to worry about babysitters or cook or parents et al. I was working in a Bank, and a colleague mentioned to me that she was going to a certain club for a Tango night and asked me if I was interested. I accompanied her because a) It was Wednesday and I had nothing better to do. b) I was curious to see what a Tango night is. Turns out it was a 'happening' thing in Bangalore. Lots of teachers and students showing off their dance moves. I felt like I had stepped into a scene in 'Dirty Dancing'. I loved the partner dances and I decided on a whim that I was going to learn some.

The very next day after many inquiries I singled upon a dance studio midway between office and home, and began learning in earnest every Tuesday, Friday and Sunday. It was lovely learning the basics of jive, feeling se#y with salsa moves and laughing giddily at the speed of rock and roll. The class was made up of a bunch of enthusiastic youngters, some in college, some working at their first or second jobs. The husband of our teacher was also in our batch, learning to groove. 

I had learnt 'Bharatnatyam' for over 16 years. Learning a classical Indian dance form would give me an edge I thought. I was in for a surprise. Jiving or dancing the salsa is not about the rhythm, but about the connection between the partners. It is just as important to have a good 'follower' as it is to have a strong 'leader'. The classes did not insist on a 'partner' and we had a round robin of partners if we chose to dance with a man, or we could opt to dance with a few advanced salsa 'women' dancers. The next few classes were superb and I learnt to groove to the beat. We used to go out as a class to Salsa nights around the city and dance up a frenzy with our choreographed steps, especially to songs we already used in our classes. 

Many many years later, in a nightclub in Goa, after a few heady glasses of Goan port wine, I kicked up a storm in my dancing shoes, to live music. Dancing does remain very close to my heart and I do hope that my husband reads this post and decides to take up classes with me :) If you haven't danced, I urge to try now. Doesn't matter if you have 2 left feet, nor does it matter if you can't stay to the rhythm. Its about really feeling the music, grooving to the beats and letting yourself go. Its about reaching out to the joy that's waiting in the Universe to be experienced. If you haven't tried jiving/dancing/just jiggling away in the bathroom, its time now... to twirl and twist! You do feel like you are dancing IN the stars!

Sights, Sounds & Smells of Smiles!

I find myself at S and yet not a single post to thank the things the bring the most important of all acts in my life - "Smile"! So here are some sights and sounds that make me smile or sigh! Thank you, Big One in the Sky! 

Sunrise at Prabhadevi, view from my window

Sight of the Sunrise: Grateful for the lovely sunrise every morning, that reminds me that although the blackness and sorrows in our lives can never go away, there is always sunrise in the morning, and sunshine in our lives.

Surprised at midnight, on my 25th b'day

Sound of "Surprise, Surprise": Grateful for the sight, sound and smell of surprises that remind me that friends are always out there for you, watching your back, skipping ahead with you!

Asleep at last!

The sound of silence! Any mom would know what this blessed sleep means, and how easily it can be broken by the doorbell, neighborhood crow, neighbor's prayers or even the flush.

Song of the Spring

Song of the Spring or Song of Sorrow?This pic was taken at Gulmarg, Kashmir. It reminds me always how the loveliest of places can be marred by the most violent acts of life. It was at this very spot, 30 tourists were bombed a month before I visited it.

Shadowed

The Sight of Shadows: I see this pic as a metaphor for life itself. With valleys and peaks, bright mountainside and shadowed plains. The sky smiles on as always, giving the same blessings to all. One day you are here, the other day there, but the sun smiles at you always. 

Serene

Sight of Serenity: When the plane was touching down in Leh, I could see the entire plains being bathed in Sunlight. It looked serene, divine and I thanked the stars that if was finally meant to be, for me!

Marching together

Sight of Solidarity: Two people can come from different walks of life, different places in the world, but a sense of compassion, love and solidarity will see them walk together, hand-in-hand for the rest of their lives. Happily.

Sweet Delight

Sight of Sweetness: Half the joy of a festival is in the food! Easter eggs, especially chocolate ones always reminds me of gratitude, of thankfulness that the Good God decided to put chocolate and joy in this world for me (and you!). 

Sumptuous Spread

Smell of Sweat & Toil: After a hard (and early) day at work in the kitchen on an auspicious occasion, the smell of your yummy (and sweaty) efforts at kitchen wafting up your nose before the ritual offering is always a sure way to light up my face with a smile.

Prettiest Sunflower in the world!

Smell of Sunshine: Yes, you don't smell rain alone, you can smell the sun too (anybody who has lived in Bombay will assert to that!) This pic was taken in Ladakh. After days of cold weather, hail and snowstorms, one afternoon I was sipping tea outside a monastery when the Sun God decided to join me for a cuppa!