Just A Blog

Thoughts on growing up on the Eve of a New Year!

2012-01-01T05:39:00.006+05:30

What is growing up? What is it about growing up that takes those famous rose tinted glasses off your nose? And I don’t mean that in an unhappy way but a practical way – you know; reality.

Seriously, when do you grow up? When you enter your teens? When you exit your teens? When you’re into the twenties? When you’re about to get into the 30’s? Truth is, you’re always ‘growing up’. You’re having experiences that change the way you think and behave. You learn to respond to situations rather than simply react to them. You learn that everyone does not have your best interests in mind and that you need to keep those who do, close to you. You become independent – you become your own person. Of course your upbringing has an influence, but you pick and choose and reinvent yourself, be it conscious or subconscious. You’re evolving in that quest to be an individual and along the way you’re looking for people you can share your life with, people who’re essentially doing the same thing.

David Crane and Marta Kauffman hit the nail on it’s head when they wrote of their smash hit show about six people in their 20’s who hang out at an after hours coffee shop, “It’s about love, relationships, careers… a time in your life when everything is possible which is really exciting and really scary. It’s about searching for love and commitment and security… and a fear of love and commitment and security. And it’s about friendship, because when you’re young and single in the city, your friends are your family”. It is precisely that fleeting time of your life when things are uncertain and you don’t know how everything is going to turn out that is the most exciting and memorable! It is the anticipation of good things to come and the innumerable possibilities that exist. It’s a time when even failure and heart break are met chin up! I think it is at the end of this phase when the world is at your feet that you really grow up. The end of possibilities – the ‘settling down’ – comes when you commit to a career, to a place, to a partner, when you know that this is your choice and you will stick to it. It means no goofing up, no goofing off. For me, it was between 21 and 27. For others, it varies because one has to be ready to grow up and move to that next stage.

A friend from college called today out of the blue, after a zillion years. And we talked. And we reminisced. And we laughed. She has a baby girl now; being responsible for her hasn’t made her feel matronly or that she’s compromised. The finality of ‘settling down’ can be lovely – especially when that’s what you were always looking for.

Strangely, even though people always feel they’re mature beyond their years whatever age they’re at, they never quite “feel their age”. No, that’s not a muddled thought, it’s a curious fact! For example, I have always tried to act responsible and mature, vying to take on more responsibility and get more important work to do, but I’ve never felt my age. Even today I don’t feel like pushing 30! At 21 we thought the late 20’s would be old. Now that we’re there, we feel the mid 30’s will be old and we are still kids. Grown up kids that is! :-)

So to all the lovely grown up (or not) kids in my life: wish you a year full of possibilities that keeps you young and fulfilment that keeps you smiling!

Julie: In thy loving memory

2011-11-28T06:45:00.006+05:30

Sweet Child of mine

Gentle be thy passage,

Happy be thy after life;

In my heart shall thy always rest,

Bringing joy to my home evermore...

J & C

2011-01-25T19:22:00.004+05:30

It's strange how some things you take for granted at home hold such power over you away from it. And you don’t even know it. For instance take the two Labrador Retrievers at home whom I love but rarely indulge (that's Mom and Ze Monk's work). Little did I realize the subtle ways in which they are a part of my psyche. The other day, walking back from the drudgery of work, my fearsome ‘walking alone on the road’ scowl on my face, I came across our friendly neighbour Cheeku. The scowl just poofed away to be replaced by a grin as I waited for him to spot me and come bounding my way. After a short greeting, a pat on the head and a handshake with my buddy I continued on my way home, a spring in my step. The awful day at work was forgotten in a trice!

On Sunday, after a quiet weekend spent at home – sleeping and reading – I was in a dull mood. So I decided to go for a walk and silently wished that I’d meet Cheeku on his evening rounds. Amazingly, there he was dripping love and slobber, sweet and gentle as I petted him. Completely like our Julie!

It was funny therefore, to bump into another Labrador – a female called Zeenat – who is the absolute opposite of Cheeku just moments later. Zeenat in her exuberance and misplaced buoyant bobbings up and down reminded me of Comet; dumb, excitable, lovable! As Deepa and I exchanged pleasantries, Zeenat strained to be let lose. Every time I patted her head, she wanted to gnaw on my hand and every time we asked her to “Sit!” or “Shake hands” she obliged for a fraction of a second before trying to prance on her hind legs or ball dance with me (yes, she had her front paws on my shoulders in a flash)! She positively has a mad streak like Comet! This time an even wider grin stayed firmly in place as I got back home.

Our darling Jule-pule turned 10 the day before yesterday and I wish we didn’t have to say that wistfully. She has easily been one of the best things to have happened to our family after we moved to Bhubaneswar – the hours of joy and companionship cannot be put into words. It is especially difficult for an undemonstrative person like me (also a stickler for order and cleanliness) to show the world how much the pets matter, but they do.

J & C - I love you very much! *hug*

Waiter, we’ll have a Gastronomic Goan Monsoon for two with Beaches on the side please!

2009-10-07T19:37:00.008+05:30

I can see now why Goa can be such a blast any time of the year. Hot sun and we had a whale of a time on the beach (yeah, I cribbed a bit, but I was getting a mean tan you see). Pouring rain and we grabbed our wind cheaters to gleefully drive all over the northern coast and Panjim on a Honda Activa with a handy little map as guide. Neither of us is a “rain person” really but the place is just so charming and the fact that most tourists stayed indoors, waiting for the rain to let up that we couldn’t sit indoors!

That’s the spirit with which one should go to Goa – be free as a sprite, feel the sand between your toes at the numerous picturesque beaches, each one distinct from the other, roam around the quaint roads lined with curio stores, freak out on sea food in the beach shacks, shake a leg in the night clubs, be out on the winding roads on a bike and be indoors only when you need the rest(room) :-)

My advice (unsolicited though it may be) is this – pack light because you wont need much; just shorts and tees irrespective of time of year, good sun screen (which S for some reason insists on calling ‘sun tan’ :-)) and a wind cheater/ light jacket that’ll serve as a rain coat. And of course your DL, Credit/ Debit card and some Pudin Hara because if you don’t hog on sea food, you’re not really getting the ‘flavour’ of Goa. But I must warn you about the “Prawn Balchao” – a traditional Goan dish that has generous quantities of chilly powder, vinegar and spices dunked in. I recommend you go easy on it unless you want to be gasping “Praan Bachao” in the middle of the night! Oh yeah, and don’t forget to carry your basic medicine pouch – the pharmacies don’t open till 9 AM like the rest of the shops and the Mathew Briganza Hospital in Calangute does not believe that medicines can be needed between 10 PM and 9 AM! It can be quite an unnerving experience to have a loved one fall violently sick in the wee hours of the morning – you know how debilitating a stomach bug can be – and not be able to get them any medicine right away.

Amid all the beach shacks and Lazy River Grills we did the Britto’s and Tito’s of Goa as well (I had more on the list – Mambo’s, Kamaki, Club Cabana, Paradise Hill etc etc but we just ran out of evenings). Now, the oh-so-famous Tito’s has a courtyard that’s open for meals all day but the night club doesn’t open till 10:30 PM and the Goa virgins that we were, we had no clue. That’s how we came to dine at Tito’s Courtyard and order the aforementioned – and if I may add, deadly – Prawn Balchao. Our waiter was good at his trade, the food decent and ambience regular. Following that the night club was under populated, played only trance, served only two kinds of beer, was overpriced compared to the rest of Goa and wasn’t even 10% the fun we heard it normally is. To be fair to the place, this was borderline off-season and early hours for the clubbing crowd but frankly, we were disappointed and a little sad that we didn’t spend that evening in a more ‘paisa vasool’ manner. So you may want to be really selective about the big names like Tito’s. However Britto’s is a must visit at lunch time and irrespective of season, it’s always crowded and the waiters harassed, but you cannot beat the location or the food. Taj Aguada was lovely as well. I realize I’ve talked about the food so much and mentioned the term hogging (or synonyms thereof) more than once, so you could ask me what exactly does one hog on? Well, Calamari, Mussel, Prawn, Pomfret, Tuna, sundry other fish, Crab; you name it! And guzzle beer of course.

What do I like best about Goa? That’s a trick question because there isn’t one thing I can settle on! The beaches are beautiful and many, the sea food bounteous, the booze cheap, the people extremely hospitable and tourist friendly, the rains in Goa are splendid, you can scoot around on a two wheeler taxi, people obey traffic rules, the roads are romantic flanked by greenery and ponds, no one bothers about what you wear and did I tell you – you get a golden tan!! :-)Something we didn’t get to do enough of, but are sure we would have absolutely loved, is the water sports part. We did go jet skiing, but it only managed to whet our appetite for more and we’ve promised to tick it off the list on our next trip – which by the way we want to do asap! This time round, with a group of close friends who take equal delight in the food, the beaches, the rain and the water sports! :-)

Instant recall when I think “Goa” is the Goanese folk song and it’s catchy beat that I learnt in school as part of the choir, “phude phude baapud veta baapud veta, punj lagu wan, teji maashi jaakin seta, jaakin seta, bidiye phagu wan”. But the enduring image of Goa I’m always going to carry with me is the truly fun time I had with S on 5887 (yeah, that was another uncanny coincidence – our rented Activa had the same number as S’s bike here) in the rain at Fort Aguada and Sequerim beach. We’re pretty sure this is the way to spend a holiday!

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

2008-09-10T03:11:00.011+05:30

Her petulant behaviour put a smile on my lips. She didn't like the crowded parlour and she didn't like the fact that she got no special treatment. She didn't like the fact that we got delayed or the fact that a piece of jewellery didn't match. Or that there was no gajra or that the bindi design on her forehead looked dated. Or that we got back barely in time, crossing the dancing Baraat barely a few meters down the approach road. Fact remains that she looked every bit the Princess she is fondly known as. All of us felt protective of the little red bundle and a little melancholic as she sobbed while taking tiny litle graceful steps towards the portico after the ceremony.

I hope The Mirror knows that he got lucky.

PS- Twin's trousseau put things in perspective for me; MV need some serious help here!

Catch 22

2008-08-14T04:24:00.006+05:30

Its strange how you have the least to say when the most is going on in life. Time ofcourse, is a factor- before you look for the time to put down your thoughts, you need time to put your thoughts in order. Otherwise you don't really feel; you just experience. This is especially true when you're an impulsive/ spontaneous person who reacts a certain way to certain things and then needs to step back and analyze the reasons behind it. A friend once said, "If you had time to feel sad, you weren't busy enough". Simple but true. Sometimes the 'drowning in work' is unintentional- like now- and that's what gets my goat. It's equivalent to the feeling of chaos and overwhelming pressure an order- crazy OCD patient would feel if their home were ransacked. These days I find myself in a situation where I have no time to think about things unrelated to work and I detest it. Especially at such a time in life when I should be wearing those famous rose tinted glasses, going shopping with friends, flying home for fittings, finalizing menus and themes and planning trips to sunny locales! I know I can consciously cut down on the time and effort at work but not achieving results would be equally vexing. Damned if I do, damned if I don't!

Repugnant skylarking

2008-06-30T00:02:00.031+05:30

1:10 AM, Saturday night, PVR Cinema, Hyderabad:
P and I are waiting for M to get the car from the parking lot after a movie. A silver Santro backs out of an illegal parking spot, loud headbanging music pulsing out of its windows. The driver turns on the headlights (covered in some white coating) beaming them at us, bathing us in eerie white light. Takes off tyres screeching and deliberately comes towards us before veering onto the exit route. P and I shake our heads in exasperation.

1:12 AM, Saturday night, PVR Cinema, Hyderabad:
We are still waiting, looking at the gate to the parking lot when a Maruti 800 zooms out. As it passes, a guy hanging out the right rear window yells, "Hey girls, got guys for tonight?" Tiny voice in my head commands me not to flinch or give the slightest hint that I heard. The car rolls out of sight around the bend and I realise that I was clenching my teeth. P and I exhale.

Does this really fluster me? The answer is 'No'- This wasn't the first time I faced something like this and I know it won't be the last, plus I've seen worse. Questions start popping to mind though. Were we "provocatively dressed"? Yes, if Jeans and T-shirts can be termed that. Was it an isolated spot? Not exactly; there was a horde of people milling about since two movies had got over at the same time. Who the fuck do they think they are? What gives them the right to behave this way? Perhaps it's some warped form of play that gives them the cheap thrills they seek. I suspect all of us have lulled ourselves into believing that its the lower strata of society where education and grooming are lacking that women are treated with no respect. That educated, cultured men are different. Where we were on Saturday night is supposed to be host to the supposedly 'good' educated crowd of Hyderabad. That's the reason why the more I think of it, the more disgusted I feel.

Sadly, they are the depraved creations of a macro system in decay- faulty upringing, inappropriate associations in the formative years, a dysfunctional law enforcement system and the "victim" mentality of the greater populace. Yet I turn a deaf ear and blind eye confronted with a situation like this. Why do I not react? Am I scared? Nope- definitely not when I know that I can sucker punch the human equivalent of a shrimp that just squealed nonsense. I freeze to avoid a scene. I've been conditioned to believe that taking flight is better than fighting in this kind of a situation. Look at any literature on self defense- best tactic is to run if possible. Just as I've been conditioned to use this tactic, so have most women. And that's come to be expected of us. Maybe its time to change things. Just maybe.

Limerick Liaison

2008-06-14T15:57:00.011+05:30

On the Limerick: Wikipedia: A limerick is a five-line poem with a strict form (aabba), originally popularized in English by Edward Lear. Limericks are frequently witty or humorous, and sometimes obscene with humorous intent. The following example of a limerick is of anonymous origin.

The limerick packs laughs anatomical

In space that is quite economical,

But the good ones I've seen so seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

On the P family: known for their witty one liners and keen intellect, patrician descendants of PKP with an epicurean bent and fondness for anything amusing ;-)

So here goes an original from the P stables (attributed to one of the dapper young men of yore):
There was a man from Mecca
Who went for a ride in an Ekka.
The Ekka broke down
And up flew his gown.
He asked the driver, "Kuchh Dekka"?

Edited on 17th June-
After a giggly M called this morning to remind me of a few more from the same source, I have to edit this post to add them:

There was a man from Madras,
Whose b*lls were made of brass.
In windy weather they struck together,
And sparks flew out of his a*se

There was a woman named sparky,

Who foolishly married a darky,

And for her sins she had three pairs of twins,

One white, one black and one khaki.

We weren't sure if this one qualifies as a limerick, but putting it up anyway:

Algy had a bear,

The bear was bulgy,

The bulge was algy

*Disclaimer: Anyone from the P family reading this not to take umbrage; the bachha party has grown up to B Dada tales! :)

A New Beginning

2008-05-20T06:26:00.007+05:30

It was so lovely. I cannot remember the last time I felt so content at 6 in the morning. Tired and careworn but at peace. Despite the many little things going awry ever so often, I know what is truly important to me as a person and though I don't know how Im going to get there, I know I will get there.

I've stayed awake till 6 am countless times in the past two years but never stepped onto the balcony to enjoy a Sunrise. Today I got home in time to do just that- made myself a huge mug of hot, sweet, milky tea and sat down on the stairs outside enjoying the cool breeze in the twilight. There was a beautiful glow on the horizon and it told me just where to look. I watched through the handle of the mug as the Sun came up and didn't blink even as my eyes watered; fortunately the breeze picked up and a branch swayed gracefully up and down, partially obscuring my view.

Maybe it stems from the fact that yesterday was one of those absolutely crazy yet satisfying days in terms of work but it coincides with the realization that happiness lies within me. As long as I am happy with who I am and sure of what I'm doing, I dont need approval from the people around me. Im done with being a conformist. What needs to be done shall be done.

Of Deloitted and Commented on Happy Birthdays!

2008-05-15T03:10:00.004+05:30

Guys who put icing on birthday cakes must be evil geniuses. Sample these:

30th June 2007- Our Labrador Retriever Comet's third birthday. Being the darling of the house, it was a foregone conclusion that there would be cake and a little party with his family :) So early that morning Mom sent our Cook to the Cake shop and told him the icing should read, "Happy Birthday Comet!". The cake was delivered at 5 PM and whisked away to the cool confines of the refrigerator. The Comet Fan Club was in full throng when it was brought onto the Dining Table with three little candles, an expectant Comet perched on a stool in the place of honour. Thats when everyone got an eyeful of the Icer's handiwork- "Comment on my Happy Birthday!" As quizzical looks turned to enlightened ones, the house boomed with laughter and a befuddled Comet let out a "please hurry up I cant wait another moment" woof. A happy comment indeed!

12th May 2008- Super boss' belated birthday party at work. She was on leave on her real birthday, so the shameless creatures that we are, we insisted on ordering her a birthday cake the day she was back. Sweet. So our Jill-of-all-Trades, Mary placed an order for a cake that afternoon. Simple message to read, "Belated Happy Birthday!" We sent out an MR (Meeting Request to the uninitiated; yep, we're that professional even about birthday cake cutting! :D ) and all of us went about our work till 7:30 PM. As the appointed hour arrived, the neat cake pack was carried to the pantry and the box was opened. "Deloitted Happy Birthday!" it read. Super Boss walked in to uproarious laughter and speculation that she had actually gone on leave to take an interview at Deloitte!

Hence the postulate that guys who put icing on birthday cakes must be evil geniuses. Or hard of hearing. Or plain dumb. Duh!

Impressions from the Dunes of Life

2008-05-07T05:01:00.004+05:30

Early morning Basketball practice

Honey nut crunch in a waffle cone

Driving 5887 on the highway

Soaking up the sun on a cold winter day, fighting with my brother for a wedge of sunlight by the window

Not bathing and reading in bed all day, getting up only for food and the loo

Waking up early on Sunday mornings and spending the morning at Buddha Jayanti Gardens playing Badminton and Cricket and making fun of the laughter-club.

An early morning Dosa and Filter Coffee date with someone I adore

Narula's Kulfi in Market building on a hot summer evening

Wengers chocolate cake, chicken patties and shammi kebabs

"Fatafat" golas from the road-side vendor just before the school gates are thrown open

Frolicking and playing catch with cousins on the Puri beach

Being held securely as I cry bitterly

Devouring an entire slab of Temptations Rum-Raisin as I chat with a friend

Weaving dreams and knowing someone will do everything in their power to make them come true

Making little paper boats and planes and letting them be carried around the bend in the road when theres a downpour
Sitting in quiet contemplation on my terrace with a cool breeze, the rustling of palm trees, a star spangled sky and a cup of piping hot tea
The knowledge that someone would fly the length of the country to be by my side when life is being mean

My longest moment

2008-04-05T05:06:00.009+05:30

It happened on my way home acting as guide to my brother who had never cycled all the way to school till that day. I had accompanied him to School that morning, finished my classes for the day and gone to my Uncle's place; the plan was to go to M's School around the time he would be ready to leave and come home together; give him company and more importantly, moral support (psst- peace of mind for Ma n Pa too). You see, Im (regarded as) the more mature, careful, prudent sibling. Hee haw.

On the route we took, there used to be few rough patches, a couple of speed bumps, one open manhole, two sand traps, one manned junction and one unmanned junction where we needed to turn right. We made good time and not a single mistake till the last hurdle. If you're on a bicycle on a wide and busy road without any divider, you would normally ride on the left and if you need to turn right, you would normally do one of two things. 1- Get off your haunches and cross the road on foot, rolling the bicycle along. Clever Boy, M. He executed to perfection; I was satisfied that he was safe, so decided to demonstrate method 2- slow down, look behind you for traffic approaching unseen, look ahead for oncoming traffic and if both sides are free, you look at the turning you intend to take and make a final check for any goonk coming out of there onto the main road. I did all three- all clear. So I start to turn. And then Swish, Swish, Dhaaaamp, Screeeeeeeeeeech, Hoooooooonk and... Wheeeee! Im flying... flying... feels ridiculous that Im waiting to land! It was a moment so vivid and so long that I still remember atleast two dozen things I noticed while I was in the air! Individual passersby registered on me, their eyes round, mouths agape. I couldnt help but notice that the scooter that hit me was a hideous chalky blue. The guy driving it had jumped off and was standing in the middle of the road while his bike was skidding after my trajectory. The paan-waala starting to run from his tin shack, the white Ambassador (from the opposite lane) towards which I was flying and its insolent driver who didnt so much as apply the brakes. Just before I made contact with the asphalt I remember turning to look at M standing on the other side of the road, a deathly look of horror on his face which said he thought this was IT. Thats what helped my survival instincts kick in.

I landed on the road in a classic Mermaid-sunning-herself-on-the-rocks pose and bounced thrice before rolling straight towards the white Ambassador. I was actually thinking by then- "I need to protect my head and avoid that car". So I managed to curl my arms around my head just as I started rolling, keeping an eye on which direction I was headed all the while! Maybe because I had kind of "balled up", I rolled for a longish distance before stopping inches from the gleaming steel bumper of the Amby. Next thing I remember thinking is that I must not move immediately because I must have broken bones. The paan-waala had reached me by then and helped me get up even as I saw the Scooter guy scoot away to save his pathetic ass.

My Ladybird was totaled; punctured rear tyre, broken rim, handle bar grotesquely turned 360 degrees, chain hanging lose. M had to carry it home on his shoulders while I gingerly rolled along the SLR. It was a miracle I didnt actually break any bones. Apart from sundry scratches and bruises, I ached all over and my outfit was ripped at the knees. There were three contact points when I landed- base of both palms and the outside of my left thigh- to say the least, they were battered and I had the biggest blue-black bruise on my thigh for months afterwards. And to think all it took was one moment. One interminable moment.

PS- To mark my longest moment, a Pearl ring sits pretty on my right hand to this day-Granny felt they shouldn't put anyone past the occasional 'crazy maverick' antic ;-) I tag Dave, Rumpel, Elcexar, Nash and Maloy to write about their longest moment.

It's all about the Bike

2008-03-21T16:10:00.006+05:30

On my way home from work a week ago, I saw a four or five year old kid on the pillion of a Bajaj Chetak. She was hugging her Dad around the waist, face turned towards us, eyes shut tight. Really cute. Instantly an image flashed across my mind- S with a little girl behind him on his bike. Im quite sure I wasn't simply being mushy with the thought; it took me to the familiar Fiero and the times when a day wasn't complete without a ride on it. That bike holds so much meaning for me. If there's a symbol for us, its the bike! The first time he pulled my hand into his. The first time he betrayed how he really felt. The bike lessons. The early morning breakfast dates at Mayfair. The excursions to Nandankanan... Memories of a lifetime!

Mr. Armstrong I beg to differ- it may not be about your bike, but its all about ours!

Coffee and Conversations

2008-03-09T23:26:00.010+05:30

Well, what can I say? Its been a mix of both- loads of work and a rich collage of experiences. These are memories I would have loved to write about but havent had time to get my comp fixed and therefore blog. Theres a thing about memories- with the passage of time you remember the feelings which went with those memories but tend to forget little details like who made what face and the din of the coffee shop and the little patch of spilt cold coffee on the triangular table... but you immortalize them by putting them down in writing. So I shall blog about today and save the events of the last two months for later. LIFO :D

I was relaxing at a Barista outlet with a few close friends today and the conversation had turned from a Luxury cruise to Port Blair to honeymooning in Cairo. Everyone had a suggestion about my august destination in November ;-) so we were not really surprised when the respectable looking middle aged gentleman sitting alone at the table next to ours chipped in. He'd overheard our conversation and seemed to be one of those people who love travelling and exploring new places. His recommendation- Minsk (Belarus); too bad that the place will be snowed in around November. When I told him that, he had more suggestions and the four at our table and he were totally engaged in the conversation. Why am I blogging about this? Because this was one of those movie-like situations where an absolute stranger engages you so completely that you forget about the time a-la "Before Sunset"! Doubtless an intrepid traveller, he was a fantastic raconteur too and all of us were enthralled with his descriptions of places he's been to. We could've sat there till much later, but I had already told a friend that I would have dinner at her place and it was nearly 9 PM so all of us took leave rather reluctantly; I was perfectly happy leaving him with a genuine smile and friendly wave without exchanging names or cards but M went over to shake hands and now we know who he is. A bloody VP with a well known firm. And we were talking and arguing like old chums. Eek. But what a cliche!

Here's to a Happy 2008!

2008-01-06T01:49:00.000+05:30

If New Year's Eve (with its run-up) and New Year's Day are any indication, 2008 should be a breeze filled with success, fun, laughter and the company of loved ones. Hope the Big Guy up there is listening :)

I don't make new year resolutions because I know I wouldn't keep them, but I do think of things I should consciously do differently. This weekend has been one of mild contemplation and lots of rest. Im going to need it because the year already looks like it is straining against its straight-jacket to come at me! That could mean either of two things- I'll be so busy and harried that the memory of this blog will be obliterated from my mind or the year will be pleasantly eventful giving me a fountainhead of topics I would be glad to write about.

This post was meant to pip the procrastination demon and to log the first post in the first week. More later as the year unfolds. Wish everyone a wonderful year ahead!

Confessions of a Watering Can

2008-01-06T00:48:00.016+05:30

I am very emotional and have a very clear idea of what I want and what I don't. Therefore when the tiniest of things goes awry I feel the pinch. Pinch by pinch it builds up until enough angst has accumulated to make me feel caged even in an open field with my favorite people. It is at times like these that crying is cathartic. The feeling of warm tears rolling down my cheeks is nice in a way that I cannot explain. It's not just the tears but an outflow of all the negativity in me at that point in time- sadness, unused energy, pent up emotions, frustration, guilt, feelings of not being loved/cared for enough, exhaustion, homesickness, illness. The mass of negativity ebbs out and leaves me feeling calm and composed. While I hate letting go like that in front of others and prefer to get it over with in private, there are some whose mere presence calms me. With them I can be my worst- weepy, childish, indecisive, cynical and blue, jealous, catty, unreasonable, selfish and demanding- and still have their respect. Their faith in me is what has made me who I am and they mean the world to me. If there's one thing in the world that can really break me, it is losing one of them. God, please never let that day come.

Shuffling down memory lane

2007-12-24T01:53:00.000+05:30

We used to see him every day of the year, early in the morning on the days we had school or in the evenings, shuffling from one end of the lane facing our house to the other. He must have been around 90 when he passed away in the autumn of 1996. I used to watch him walk falteringly with my heart in my mouth because there was no telling when he might trip and fall or wander to the middle of the road.

One day when I came back from school I saw him in our gully apparently quarrelling with a rag picker. When I got close enough to hear the exchange of words I was amused over the trivial nature of the altercation. The rag picker had dared to pick up a polythene bag lying in the dust to put in his sack. This act had enraged our little old man and he had snatched the polythene away. The rag picker demanded to be given back the polythene but the old man refused. I think the scavenger finally got the message that our old man was a little batty and left muttering under his breath. After his departure the old man looked around and spotted me. He stared at me a while, moved to his left and bent down as I looked on with renewed interest. He placed the polythene bag on the ground, found a large stone and placed it on the bag! Perhaps that was where the rag picker had picked it from and the gentleman did not want the bag to fly away; after all everything must be in its rightful place! Then as if a big task had been accomplished, he straightened up as much as his bent back would allow and started the arduous walk back to his house.

This frail and endearing little man was very much a part of our lives and that is the reason why his demise created a void, however small it may be. On that fateful day as I stepped out of the auto rickshaw with my mother, I felt apprehensive when I saw the cloth pandal covering the front portico of the old man’s house. On asking the shop keepers in front of our house we learned of his death. He had been suffering from Parkinson’s disease. I felt my eyes water and spirit dampen, but it was only a passing emotion. Our hearts went out to the family who loved, respected and cared for him tirelessly in his final run.

That night as I stood in our balcony staring up at the star strewn sky, I contemplated life. Life is ephemeral; here one day, gone the next. I was dwarfed by the thought when I was 14. Eleven years later I still am.

Fortune at the bottom of the Pyramid?

2007-12-16T01:25:00.000+05:30

What set me off on this line of thought was a poignant sight at a traffic signal on my way to office a couple of days ago. Despite the in-my-face pathos, I couldn't deny the fact that it was a pretty sight. I cross it everyday but it never really registered earlier. There is a settlement of mela toy makers at that signal and their toys are beautifully crafted bows, arrows, gadas and swords, all shimmering gold and adorned with jewels. You can't ignore them- they're dressed in bright colours, visibly happy, joking with each other while their hands skillfully put together those golden toys and at the same time keeping an eye on the Oh! so many babies and children frolicking on the triangulate signal.

Coming back to the toys- I would not like something so ostentatious and ornamental; what makes them like it? What makes them think others will like it or that it will sell? It does sell, but who buys it? Ofcourse it is a form of wish fulfilment apart from the fact that it earns them their daily bread. It is only natural for have-nots to aspire to have and therefore they create images of what they want to have- the golden, bejewelled stuff.

C.K.Prahlad tells the rich how to get richer, but does anyone think how the guys at the bottom could have access to a fortune of their own? Thats why I am forced to respect Nobel Peace laureate Muhammad Yunus and his Grameen Bank. Former World Bank President, James Wolfensohn summed it up by saying, "What it has to do with peace is that it gives dignity and hope to families and it is the lack of hope that is the greatest cause of bloodshed and intolerance".

As their laughter reached my ears in the cab a few feet away, the reverie was broken but they continued to smile as they crafted their treasures and the children chased an errant piece of shiny red paper. Hope springs eternal in the human breast.

A Day in Paradise

2007-12-13T05:32:00.001+05:30

Last weekend Su took out the team to a place called ICRISAT (International Crops Research Insititute for the Semi Arid Tropics). It is a UN body for Crop Research and they have a 3000 acre campus with swimming pool, basketball court, badminton court, tennis court, football field et al.

We reached there after lunch on Saturday and spent the evening in the impeccably maintained pool. Once the sun had set, we went for a drive around the campus and parked beside one of the 3 lakes the place boasts of. It was lovely to just sit there by the calm water, crickets providing a rustic background score and the moonlight lending the place an ethereal air. (The mandap like structure by the lake is perfect for a night-picnic with sleeping bags around a bon-fire, but I doubt they'll allow anything like that). By 7:45 we were ravenous despite it being just about tea-time by normal standards and therefore the way everyone hogged on "Chicken and Black Olives in Tomato gravy" was no surprise; we had to keep sitting a while before anyone could/ would stir! Post dinner was a lively romp around the campus, which included a photo session next to the 1000 year old stone carving of Lord Ganesh and trying all the kiddie swings- everything from the Merry-go-round to the See-saw to the Jungle-jim to the Slide. Back in the apartments, everyone sat talking late into the night in one of the well appointed living rooms (each appartment has a large bedroom, balcony, bathroom and living room), gorging on all the snacks we'd had the foresight to buy on our way there. Yes, everyone was hungry again!! By the time we hit the sack it was well past 2.

Despite the late night, I woke up an unwilling P and an excited S around 7 the next morning; the three of us hired bicycles and cycled around the campus for an hour looking for the closest of the three lakes the campus has. The early morning air was invigorating as we rode, sometimes through cultivated fields and sometimes through heaps of corn and the narrow rustic looking paths belied the fact that this was on the outskirts of a huge city. The three of us had a wonderful time cavorting around; weaving in and out of fields, locating slopes and riding down them with legs in the air, racing each other, watching the place wake up to its chores, trying to identify the many birds we came across. This was followed by a sumptuous breakfast and then Basketball- I still havent lost my touch :-) After the morning's fun work out, the three of us were ready to plop into the comfy beds, but the others were awake by then. Warm showers and multiple mugs of hot tea put us back on our feet and we were on our way back to the city. I reached the theatre just in time for Khoya Khoya Chand and it is another matter altogether that I wished I had given in to the little voice inside me that tempted me to bunk the movie in favour of another afternoon in the pool.

ICRISAT opened my eyes to the possibilities that lie before us; it seemed such a happy, peaceful, stress free and uncomplicated existence that P and I wished we could land a job there and stay put! It really is a wonder how such perfection and peace can exist amidst the chaos of a bustling city such as this. I think I'm going to visit the place again very soon; It literally charges you up!

PS- Khoya Khoya Chand is a directorial disaster. All the actors were great, but then the movie didn't really go anywhere and as a friend said, "got stuck on the Casting Couch". Rajeev Masand and I have had our first disagreement.

Lines composed in Chandipur

2007-12-04T02:19:00.000+05:30

On a full moon night

Little waves play on the distant sea's crest

And grow bigger as they roll in to meet the rocks

In a fit of white foam,

Sending up a fine spray

Amid the sylvan setting.

The Casuarinas sway in the warm sea breeze

Lightly scented with the delicate perfume of Jasmine flowers

Everything draped in a silver cloak;

The surface shimmering in the cool light

The senses are assailed;

Sight, sound, smell, touch.

It is nature’s show;

We are mute spectators

Atop this perch, jutting out into the sea.

The wind ruffles my hair,

Brushes sensuously by my cheeks, invigorating.

The smell of the sea mingled with the heady fragrance of Jasmine.

Silver ripples on a silver sea.

The silhouette of the moon.

The unending and rhythmic whoosh-crash-swoosh.

As wave upon wave rolls in

Crashes and disperses

I see Heaven.

I visited Chandipur sometime during my graduation days with a favourite Aunt and Uncle and fell in love with the place. Chandipur is an enchanting sea resort whose claim to fame is the fact that the sea recedes 4 kms when the tide ebbs (you can literally walk on the sea bed upto the natural sea wall when it is low tide) and returns to claim the silver sand when the tide comes in. When the tide is out, a walk along the beach is immense fun because of the thousands of brilliant orange hued Horseshoe Crabs that run pell mell when they feel your footfall ten feet away. Chandipur-on-sea also boasts of an Integrated Missile Testing Range where the Indian Army has tested ballistic missiles like Agni and Prithwi . The evening I was inspired to write this was spent on a lovely wooden planked balcony that juts out over rocks washed by the shimmering waters, embraced by full grown casuarinas swaying in the breeze, with the gentle lapping of the sea on the rocks. Till today it remains the most beautiful, surreal sea scenery I have ever seen. Alas I didnt own a digital camera then.

Visual DNA

2007-11-27T02:45:00.000+05:30

Who would have thought that one could tell what kind of a person you are simply by asking you to stack rank pretty images? While I had done this exercise before, I'm quite sure the outcome was different- I chose some things I definitely wouldn't have chosen a couple of years ago.

As they say, nothing is constant but change. That gives me hope- I'm evolving as a human being :)

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Some fortune!

2007-11-24T16:29:00.000+05:30

Can I sue Orkut for telling me I will have a happy life with my wife??

I should log into Orkut on days I don't feel like waking up; the Orkut Fortune of the Day has an uncanny capacity to shake you up and therefore wake you up!

The way to a Man's Heart

2007-11-20T01:54:00.001+05:30

I balked at MNT in college when he made the controversial claim in class that women/ girls like to bake (used interchangeably with cook) because it is akin to giving birth (parallel to creating something). I'm no brassierre burning feminist but I was disgusted with the prof and still am, even with the memory!

I do it for gustation, glory and the satisfaction of a job well done. Toiling on cooking a meal and then enjoying it by yourself or with the people you put in the effort for is quite a gratifying experience. Good food notwithstanding, the icing on the cake (pun unintended) is the appreciation. It's a lovely feeling- a mix of pride at having done all that work, wonder that it is actually tasty (in the initial days, wonder is more common when you find that your creation is edible), a satiated feeling after having consumed it, a smug feeling when you think of the calories you did not consume in the office cafeteria and triumph when folks back home ask if you're eating well and you recite the menu from the last meal! I also must mention that it's a very useful pastime for an idle weekend; thats usually when I try out all the new recipes and test them on my unsuspecting flat mate ;-)

It's a bonus if your fiance is an epicure; the saw from which this title is borrowed may sound like a terrible cliche but trust me, it isn't! The admission that he told your ma-in-law-to-be that you cook great is something to be cherished! :D

Om Shanti Om

2007-11-18T00:11:00.000+05:30

A friend told me that King Khan had sworn to make an out and out Bollywood style masala movie the next time he put money in any venture. And what a movie! Fortunately I was forewarned and left my brain at home, which was why I enjoyed the ludicrous yarn.

I have been observing of late that even the most outlandish of plots has a smattering of sanity somewhere. OSO leaned heavily on a couple of saws. "If you want something with your whole being, the entire universe conspires to give it to you". I have to agree- I can distinctly remember the times that I have desperately wanted something to happen and wanted it with my entire being. I have prayed for it and worked for it and I never lost sight of the target. In retrospect I realised that I made it happen each time. But each time I also acknowledge that I've had help- family, teachers, friends and luck.

"The circle of life ensures that if everything isn't OK, its not over". Until you make your peace with people and incidents, they don't stop bothering you however great a calm you may portray. Everything is cyclical and so is life. The concept of Karma talks about good deeds being repaid and the bad being punished. 'Many Lives Many Masters' by Brian L Weiss describes the multiple neuroses of an unbelievable patient who went into past lives instead of early childhood when taken through regression therapy. The message was clear- You must revisit your past, however uncomfortable and moldy, to understand what went wrong, learn from it and let go. No wonder contemporary psychotherapy relies so heavily on this concept.

OSO was satisfying viewing because of its singular objective of being ridiculous and patently succeeding at it!

Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young

2007-11-16T02:22:00.000+05:30

Mary Schmich

June 1, 1997

Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.

I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

I loved this piece the first time I read it (sometime in 2004) and still identify with its simplicity and truth. Baz Luhrmann reads this out word for word in his hit "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)".

Children's Day

2007-11-15T03:45:00.000+05:30

Guess what- the highlight of my day was getting my boss to buy chocolates for the entire team. Bet she'll give me the next crappy task that needs incessant follow up and reminders; that's what I did to her. Afterall, we're her 'kids' in office- I even shooed off the hangers on who wanted chocolates too. Told them that Im the possessive kid who won't share mommie's munificence with anyone ;-)

Delightful Diwali

2007-11-14T12:29:00.000+05:30

It was special this time, thanks to my friends. It was a four day weekend and Diwali was day 2. That morning we had breakfast, set out hunting for cracker shops, found one after much scouting and loaded up on ammo. What an array it was that we put in the Sun that morning!

Everyone just went with the flow... relax, catch up with family and friends on the phone, watch the India Vs Pak match. S and I went to 100 ft Boutique for lunch- A rather unique concept- the fare continental (and done perfectly), the ambience sheltered yet very urbane and the merchandise obscenely expensive :-)

Met A and G after lunch. We had a wonderful time catching up and talking about everything from how we all met, to work, to plans in the near future, to planning trips together. Brew Haha offered the perfect setting for this kind of meeting; we took the corner floor arrangement, ordered coffee, snacks and a board game and chattered away to glory. It was only when I started getting calls from the gang that I realized two hours had flown and had to reluctantly take leave.

I arrived at home to find all the Diyas neatly laid out, ready to be lit and everyone waiting for me to light the first one; it was the kind of gesture that gives me goose pimples :-) Round 1 of crackers lasted an hour before we all got tired and went back inside for refreshments- red wine, dry fruits, sweets and namkeen. Then we were back with a vengeance to finish off the entire cache- rockets were set off in every direction, flower pots were set off four at a time, chakris were tried on all possible surfaces at ground level and the serpent pellets made a curious tangle of repulsive looking black tentacles. I steered clear of the bombs and chinese crackers- Im half deaf anyway- and we were finally through. Dinner was a leisurely affair at a nearby place followed by a chilly yet invigorating drive back. Some quiet time with S to wrap up the day.

Delightful.

An affair to remember

2007-11-12T09:11:00.000+05:30

It was one of those trips that you remember for various reasons, some you want to tell all your friends and family about and some that you'll cherish forever without telling a whole lot of people. Lots of fun, time with my sweetheart, catching up with old friends, togetherness, adventure, elements of (comic) horror and time to unwind (Thank heavens!). Each trip has a "major"; this time it was the trek to Skandagiri Hills- Kalwarhallibetta. Dedicating this post to the trek- other parts of the trip will be grist for the mill for future posts.

Kalwarhallibetta is a three hour trek through the night over rocky, muddy, slippery terrain to watch the Sun rise behind peaks in the distance. It was an adventure from the word 'Ready' (vis-a-vis 'Go')! We were informed that it was an "Amavas ki raat" and should therefore carry big flashlights in additition to the food and water. So S and I went shopping for torches, chocolates and water bottles to ensure that everyone had their own supplies. The cab arrived at 10:30 PM- it was to be a two hour drive to the base camp, but it took longer since we had a driver with the road sense of a blind Mule (yes, its a fitting epithet) and spent a merry half hour trying to figure out where the road to our destination was (we even crossed it once since Mr Mule didnt bother reading the road sign which was in Kannada). We were in a village with not a soul in sight till we crossed a hut with something in a blue and white scarf around its head, a blue blanket draped over its shoulders, standing immobile with a big stick for support. B and I told ourselves that it was an old lady with a fancy for playing "Statue" outside her hut at 2 AM. Eerily, after we lost our way for the second time, the radio sang, "Aaj ki raat hona hai jo, ho jaane do" till a gag order was passed by SM who'd been trying to catch some shut eye till then. God was probably on night duty because help was right next to a turning which led to Sai Baba's temple! A lady with a ready smile and glittering white teeth explained the route to our Mule. In the meantime, we had company- another car full of people who hadnt taken the correct turns- and we led them to the base camp.

We got ourselves a guide and started on the trek. It was uphill from the beginning; definitely not for greenhorns or someone who isnt in good shape. The narrow paths were not only steep but the dew made them slippery and treacherous, not to mention the complete absence of any form of illumination. However the cool breeze, the thousands of stars twinkling in the expanse above and the lights from habitation below made the climb worth the trouble. We were almost at the top when we heard the distinct sounds of someone slipping and falling- and falling through heavy foliage because of all the crushing/ crunching noises. The next thing we knew was that P wasnt in the single-file where he should have been and for a horrible few seconds, he didn't even answer our frantic calls. We finally saw him through a thick tangle of branches, thorns and leaves hanging on with his right hand some 6 feet below the edge. While two of us kept him company, speaking to him and keeping a steady beam in the dark night, the others rushed to another point in the path which got them closer to P. It wasnt good enough because the thorn bush was too thick, there was no support and the biggest of our worries, the ground was atleast 50 feet below the bush while P was hanging precariously with one hand. Our guide, who had been getting on our collective nerves till that point of time sprung into action like lightning. He got help, clambered over the edge, clawing into the wet mud for grip and thrashing through the thorn bush to reach P. Finally a thick blanket was secured to P's wrist and he was pulled up (one of his legs was stuck in some branches and took some kicking to dislodge) by the guide and S, with both being held firmly by others. It was out of sheer relief that all of us gave in to a bout of giggles.

I believe none of us actually comprehended how serious it could have been; P was a changed man- In diametric contrast to before the fall, he walked tall with firm long strides and a spring in his step and claimed to be enjoying the trek for the first time since we began our ascent. Did his life flash before his eyes with the shrubbery for a screen? Had he grasped the meaning of "carpe diem" in some indescribable manner? I didn't ask him; some things are meant to be kept to one's self. Whatever it was, it was incontrovertible yet intagible testimony to the existence of a Greater Being.

We reached the peak soon afterwards and found that it was uncomfortably cold even with warm clothing and cap-fulls (yes, honestly!) of sweet tea. There was a motley crowd atop the peak who'd either camped there all night or reached before us and the remnants of bonfires looked inviting. We munched on chocolates and biscuits and rubbed our hands together waiting for the Sun to make an appearance, which it did after half an hour. And it was breathtakingly beautiful. From a pinkish violet to marigold to brilliant golden hues, the transformation was fantastic. Once the Sun was a neat orb in the azure skies, we got moving again. Different path, different challenges, different sights but equally beautiful. The rolling white mist was being chased away by the rays of the morning sun and made for some lovely glimpses of the valley below. It was refreshing to walk through neck high weeds with the scent of dew, wet earth and wild mountain flowers. As we reached the base, a dog howled plaintively somewhere in the distance. Yes, we too were sad that the trek had come to an end.

PS: This trip I watched the movie which shares it's name with this post. Both S and I loved it! :-)

* BM, Thank you for the pretty thumbnail :-)

Just Do It

2007-11-06T01:57:00.000+05:30

A couple of months ago the last of my old set was moving further south with bag and baggage when I told her that Hyderabad had become "alien". All the familiar people had moved out and all the familiar places were off limits (terrorists had struck twice in the preceding days). I really felt like I was just biding my time till I could move too. What was my raison-de-etre?

A couple of weeks ago I watched "Jab We Met" which talks about living life to the fullest and on your own terms. Liked the idea because it got me thinking. Is doing your own thing/ living life to the fullest at the cost of others' feelings? Of those who love you? A corollary is, "Have no regrets"; if your actions/ desires lead someone you love to have regrets, does the paradigm change?

A couple of days ago I travelled 300 kms so that I would have one lesser regret when I left Hyderabad. The secret is that the moment you start doing what your heart tells you to do, you have no regrets as long as it does not impact someone else. Having no regrets is the beginning of freedom. I don't need to think hard about what those things are that I've always wanted to do but not made a start.

A couple of seconds ago I made a mental note. 10 points. Yup, I'm going after them!

Dam(n) Monkey!

2007-11-04T12:26:00.000+05:30

The unplanned trips turn out to be the most fun. It was quite an eclectic group that accompanied me to Nagarjunsagar- a batchmate, a junior, a once-upon-a-time neighbour, flatmate's friend. Happily it was a no hang-ups group and everyone got along.

The eating places sucked, we missed our boat ride and the Sun shone like there'd be no tomorrow but we still had fun doing "touristy" things, clicking pictures, eating all the junk, commenting on the Mermen at the waterfalls near the Dam and staring spellbound as a Mommie monkey (with kid firmly tucked under her belly) sidled into the snack counter to steal Kurkure! The trip turned out to be a laugh riot and like all successful outings, the group felt a bonding enough to discuss the next trip as we entered city limits.

It's nice to be able to connect to people when you need a break :-)

PS- Mommie succeeded; Pepsico would have paid a fortune for that video!
Move over Juhi Chawla!

People, Places, Experiences

2007-11-02T01:48:00.000+05:30

I came across this really interesting kid with an anchor shaped stud through his left brow (ooow) and a phoenix shaped (?) tattoo on his left forearm. He seemed to be in the same cab as me too many times for it to be chance (It turned out to be more sinister than that- his place is a furlong from mine and hence the routing algorithm puts him in my cab. Haha. So much for conspiracy theory) so we got talking, and how!

Precocious teen- "Smells like teen spirit" could be his anthem- balked when he discovered my occupation. Tiniest of pauses. And... ATTACK! HR this and HR that, but nothing that a patient ear couldn't see through. Round 2 was about movies- the Download Demon seems to be his best buddy and I've warned him I might hand him a stack of CDs sometime. Round 3- adventure sports and a lot of planning I suspect will remain pipe dreams.

What stands out about this kid is his attitude; speaking with him is like looking into Dumbledore's Pensieve and seeing myself at the fork where the roads diverged. It was a conscious decision to "tone down" and for a moment I'm almost nostalgic; he has a lot of growing up to do I conclude.

It dawned on me that I'm treating him with the kind of indulgent interest reserved for kid cousins. Is this a side effect of being "blinkered" or of crossing the quarter century mark? Ah well, who cares?

Punky kid + Cab = Interesting commute

Wonder Years

2007-11-01T01:52:00.000+05:30

Growing up is never tough when you have someone to share it with.

It would be superfluous to explain how much my brother means to me- we've stuck together when things weren't great and celebrated each happy moment, be it with a smile, a hug or a piece of chocolate shared late at night. The shared sighs, the whispered worries, holding onto each other for comfort and strength when the world doesn't seem friendly. Jumping for joy, a simple bike ride, dinner for two at Pizza Hut, the "Sheikh Haseena" jig, the Meridien elevator adventure. The words of encouragement, the knowledge that someone believes in you more than you believe in yourself... priceless!

Today we're in different cities (the phone is our only link) but we know where our store of succour lies, should we ever need it. Monk, you're the best!

Magic(a) returns ;-)

2007-10-31T01:49:00.000+05:30

Spurred on by the encouraging hmmm's from friends (wink wink), I resume from where I trailed off. Hopefully there will be a modicum of regularity now that I have a net connection at home and lots of peaceful weekends- unless the fountainhead dries up.

Omigosh. I just bought indemnity for not writing. Damn exit options!

Kick start

2007-03-26T08:10:00.000+05:30

Always thought I would start a blog- finally did. Yayyy.

Umm... what now? [:D]