Chez Chay

Interview with Ravi Kuchimanchi of Aid

2008-11-06T20:26:00.000-08:00

I recently met with Ravi Kuchimanchi, founder of AID to interview him for KBCS - One World Report. Please find the audio clip below. I know it ends rather abruptly and the audio on my side is pretty distorted. Too bad, I was not involved in the editing...I've been tied up with some health related issues. Nonetheless, the story was broadcast today and you can listen to it here - you have to read the lead first though :-)

Arpana
_________________________________________

Interview with Ravi Kuchimanchi founder of the Association for India's Development (AID)
Ravi Kuchimanchi is the founder of the Association for India's Development, or AID. AID was created to remind overseas Indian communities of the plight the less fortunate and underprivileged face back in their home country and to inspire them to get involved. According to their website, they aim to promote development that is sustainable, equitable and just. AID was founded in 1991 while Kuchimanchi was working on his Ph.D. in Physics at the University of Maryland . One World Report’s Arpana Sanjay recently caught up with Kuchimanchi. He was in Seattle to help volunteers at AID’s year-old local chapter raise funds for the upcoming holiday season. Arpana began by asking Kuchimanchi to explain the mission of his group, AID.
Interviewer: Arpana Sanjay
KBCS - OWR Archives

Dried Tears

2008-11-01T14:15:00.000-07:00

the grief in my heart
had bubbled forth.
an unstoppable swell
had broken loose
you had caught
the warm wetness
in your palm and
wiped away fears
and the world began
to melt and fade

For each tear that
fell from my eyes
there was another
that fell from your heart
but now my eyes
are all dried up
for each word that falls
from your careless lips
I lose a tear from my heart
which feels like solid rock

time changes everything
everyone changes with time
tears are like dishwater
impure, soiled, like waste
like your broken promises
like my unborn children
all meaningless memories
old passions and desires
that wont let me live
that wont let me die

Aug 2005....a long time back!

Bliss!!

2008-10-30T10:19:00.001-07:00

I listened to a lot of music as a kid. Probably more than any other kid I knew and a wider variety than most adults as well. I’d look forward to having the house to myself and would be super happy if my parents had to go somewhere without me. With Mom out of the door, there was no limit to how loud the music could get. And we had no neighbors for at least a quarter of a mile. Heaven!! Dancing to the loud music on my terrace when it was raining, the music so loud that nothing could get thru’ no door bells and no phone rings…and getting into trouble with my parents over how ‘careless’ I was! On Dad’s old LP player and tape deck I’d listen to Ravi Shankar’s Music Festival of India (I’ve been looking for a CD), Tchaikovsky…trying to dance like a swan in Swan Lake…imagining myself to be Odette. Reading my dad’s handwritten liner notes in red ink on old yellowing pieces of paper – romantic notions running in my head along with Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty…the OST for the Love Story would have me singing the theme song along, it was practice since we’d learnt that song at school. And then there was the Rolling Stones, Dire Straits, Clapton, Chapman, even Clayderman….Lalgudi Jayaraman, Ananda Shankar, Chris Isaak, The Beegees, Nirvana, Denver & Smokie, Vivaldi, Lionel Richie, The Who, Chitti Babu, Pink Floyd, MC Hammer, Whitney Houston…on and on and on.

When the bigger louder speakers were off limits, I used a tape recorder in my room…it had a dial that could alter the tempo of the track and I used it for my dance practices. At nights, I’d plug in my headphones and listen till late at night…sometimes dancing in the dark. I was in love…with my music and my world and….you get the drift!

In Mysore I had no source. I went around scrounging in the few music stores looking for something and then spending all my pocket money on tapes. There was this chap called Ravi who had a library and he’d generously make mix tapes for me. Eventually I left sleep Mysore…and in college I discovered ghazals and hindi movie music, techno, the Gypsy Kings, electronica…stuff that kids were listening to in cities much bigger than sleepy Mysore. I started making my own mix tapes….

It was music that connected my now husband and me for the first time…the OST for Top Gun.

And then it just stopped….the music, the dance, everything. The long years in between were so bare…I did not know what happened anymore in the world of music. And now it seems silly that I did not turn to the one thing that always gave me comfort and focus.

But all’s well that ends well. I have found my bliss again. The past 4, 5 years have been so wonderful….because I found my music again. And the past 2 years have been simply awesome…coz now I can share my music with anyone who cares for it!! Who’d have thunk I’d be on radio….certainly not me!!
This is my idea of heaven on earth!!

Diwali Memories

2008-10-27T07:53:00.000-07:00

By now the firecrackers would have started going off. Irritatingly invasive at 5.00 in the morning, but irresistible at 6.00. Still in pajamas, snacking on chakli, with many summons to go have my head oiled, please bathe, please…pretty please…wear your new reshme langa, eat breakfast and leave the fruit alone, behave yourself…..sigh. I now think I could have put up with any amount of torture for a chance at the loudest, most obnoxious firecrackers.

I was one of the younger kids among nearly 50 plus cousins in my grandfather’s old house. Young, but certainly the boldest. The older cousins who knew what the latest firecrackers in the market were and the price tag they came at always pushed me forward to go ask my grandfather for Pataki-money. After refusing a sufficient number of times, I would relent and then go up to him. Ajja would be sitting on his ancient chair in his office, just off of the large verandah with the red and green floor, reading the newspaper. And I’d demand money. He’d say, “What? More money? To blow up in smoke? I just gave some to your XYZ brother last evening.” Of course, I’d stand my ground and of course I walked away with more than anyone ever could. One time he gave me 800 rupees…this was way back in 1987, when 800 rupees was a LOT of money for a bunch of kids. I now think Ajja thought I was special. I was the only one that refused to be afraid of him, and the only one who fooled around with him.

But my favorite part of Diwali was not the firecrackers, nor the food, nor the snacks and definitely not the endless poojas. It was when the old wrinkled Ayyannar (a priest) came by. The oldest daughters in law of the household would spread out a thick black woolen blanket on the floor of the verandah. The blanket was supposedly ancient, meant to represent the migration of my ancestors from the area near Badami in Karnataka further South. They were fleeing persecution by the invading Bahamani Kingdom that occupied the entire area. The migration supposedly brought a change in trade and the people started rearing livestock instead of farming and trading. This made since they were constantly moving. Hence the Kuruba or shepherding community. Going back to the blanket on the floor of the verandah, ancient heirlooms would then be placed carefully on the blanket. Very old silver, gold, brass, copper jewellery, utensils, implements, weapons…all kinds of interesting things that probably belong in a museum, would be placed. And the most precious of all – a hand made leather bound book. The Ayyannar’s main job was to ensure that records were updated. He’d open the family book, then his own book and make identical entries of all the births and deaths in the family and extended family in both the books. The family book, along with the heirlooms and blanket would go back into a large red and green vault which could only be accessed by Ajja.

Then one year we decided to go be with my Mother’s family. Diwali is not really celebrated in conservative Christian families in South India. My aunt would receive gifts of firecrackers at work which would be saved till Christmas. And when the whole city enjoyed a day off of Christmas day, the Christian families would come out with guns blazing and take revenge on the Diwali noise makers. No amount of pleading would get us firecrackers for Diwali!! And so Diwali was simply no fun with my other family!

Then there was that one Diwali that we spent in Mysore on the roof top of some friends, a bonfire, plenty of beer that I pour charmingly for guests, but could not drink because I was only 13 or 14. I got distracted by the bhoo-chakra and I forgot I had a lit pencil in my hand. I burnt my fingers for the first time that night.

I can never forget the first Diwali I spent alone in Chennai. I would ride through the neighborhoods at night just to see the oil lamps. I still feel tight in my chest when I think of that time. The loneliness the fireworks created in me was dispelled only by shutting it out with Chris Isaak on my walkman.

I remember that first Diwali I spent in Bangalore, watching my neighbor from my balcony as he lit fireworks. He eventually ran up my stairs and dragged me down and I gave in to the addictive smell of gunpowder and lit up a rocket after years. And then a few years later, this same neighbor and I were celebrating Diwali again. Only this time, we went to Hosur where we bought a big sack full of firecrackers. I made a fresh rangoli every night at our door and decorated it with oil lamps. I made all kinds of snacks and sweets. Our friends were our family at that time and most of them were away celebrating with their families in different towns. But they cut short their vacation to be with us…and we lit most of those fireworks a day after Diwali.

It’s impossible to recreate the innocence or joy of the days gone by. As I’ve grown older, I’ve also grown more aware that things are never going to be the same. Traditions are diluted to a mere formality. It’s now left to me to carry the memories and carry on my own brand of traditions. I am all grown up I guess…but I still miss the fireworks!

Diwali 2008
Sammamish
6.00 am

Jars of Memories

2008-10-27T06:17:00.000-07:00

Your smile warmed
the cold forgotten attic
where, sealed within an old
nameless earthen jar
I slept, with
untainted dreams and
innocent affections

At your touch the old pot
crumbled, I came alive
spilling soft kisses
rare and precious
fragments of passion
transposed into images
of euphoric bliss

I reached out to you
but you were gone
without a trace, gone
but in your place
there stood a mirror
on which was scribbled
this unfinished poem

Bangalore
January 2006

I remember

2008-10-25T22:14:00.001-07:00

I remember
the first time
you held me
captive
with eyes
brown, deep

I remember
that first time
you held me
the fragrance of
love that bloomed
at your throat

After all this time
I still remember
the first time
you loved me
the first time
you killed me

Oct 2007
I let everything sit around for about a year....what can I say! :-)

Thank God for Bumps and Bolts

2008-10-24T22:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I bumped my head
so hard, I thought it bled
I sat down rubbing a promising bulge
grimacing, griping, cursing
For good reason I thought of you
Striking and as sharp as the blow
If you were here, now, at this instant,
you would have cooed and soothed,
fretting and clucking, your tears
would have drenched my wound
attempting to wash away the pain
while I sniff at the throb, in vain
trying to childishly seem old(er)
you would have tried to comfort
silently, quietly, in your own strong way
and I would have brushed aside
your fingers, your concern, your love
callously, annoyed with myself
ashamed to be hurting
embarrassed to be weak
so self consumed would I be
that I would not have noticed
your eyes smarting
or your lip trembling
your fingers curling
or your head turning
Serves me right that yesterday
when I bumped my head
you were not there
that you might be spared from
my wrath, my shame, my impatience
I wipe away tears of regret
remembering not to be
as I am prone to be when…
someday I bump my head again
and you rush to comfort me
I now understand Ma
My folly, your patience
My ways and your ways
I pray that someday,
they will be the same
your way and mine

28 Sep 2007
Seattle - after an accident at the Ikea

Lost & Found!

2008-10-03T12:36:00.000-07:00

I am bursting with excitement!! I just had a long long conversation with my best friend from my PU college days...and its been nearly 12 years since I last spoke with her, saw her or heard anything about her.

My heart is so full....so full!! Its nice to know that you are remembered fondly. That you are not the only one who remembers people or events. And that there is someone who reciprocates with the same love and fondness. Most of my memories of my college are the many different ways I made a fool out of myself...the many places and ways I stood out like a sore thumb...and the many many things I did that were plain stupid, even inapproriate!

We've all grown up now and the childish things of the past dont really matter. I know that. But the embarrassment lingers on. I always thought I was a serious person, but I heard my best friend tell me that I laughed and giggled a lot. I also learnt that I had a huge crush on some guy and that everyone knew about it. Breakthru finally!! This does not embarrass me one bit! Its kinda sweet actually....! :-))

So, when I hear from an old friend and she confirms that I was not such a fool after all and that there were a few bright spots...it makes my heart glad. Makes me a little more sure of myself. Like I always say, go back to the people of your childhood and have them remind you of who you were before life had a crack at you. They will remind you of what you lost...and they will help you find it again.

I feel peaceful!

first prize....really?

2008-09-01T22:12:00.001-07:00

I just spent a good part of the evening helping a cousin with an essay for her college admissions. Its been such a long time since I wrote an actual essay....Won so many competitions in school...and then one huge competition in college.

There was a disctrict level inter-collegiate festival in Ooty. I took part in the essay writing contest. It had some random political theme and I remember writing furiously and being very tired at the end of the competition. I won the first prize for my essay....I was thrilled at my success. But then, the festival location was far away from my college and hostel. really far. And they made the announcements at the end of the festival, but then they said I must go back 2 weeks later to pick up my certificate and prize. Some of the others who won prizes went by or arranged for their certificates to be picked up. But for some reason, I never went to get them...I cant remember what happened. I do remember thinking that it did not matter. Silly huh!!

And look at me now...truly believing that every small success is worth celebrating.

random cribs

2008-08-30T13:57:00.000-07:00

Are memoirs exaggerated glories of childhood...? Do people truly have such idyllic childhoods as described in some books and movies?

I just finished reading Madhur Jaffrey's Climbing the Mango Trees: A memoir of a childhood in India. It was such a wonderful nostalgic read. But nearly everything seemed perfect....I am sure she had problems in her childhood, but the worst thing that Madhur mentions are typical teenage issues and some things that came up during the India-Pak partition. She was certainly privileged. The childhood she decribes is a far cry from what my grandparents had....she is about 5 years younger than my Grandma, so I do have something to compare her experiences with. I must say I felt a little envious when I read about how she had so many cousins from being in a joint family...her little adventures in and around her house....the fact that she had such fabulous heavenly food almost everyday and had a mango orchard in the backyard....definitely sounds like a slice of heaven. Hmmm mangos....I cant even remember how long it has been since I had a ripe, sweet raspuri from my grandfather's orhcards.

I have a hard time relating to such descriptions. I am an only child and I have spent my entire life coping to survive. And when I read about these beautiful childhoods, a part of me gets sad for having missed out on fun that actually is somebody else's experience and another part of me starts wondering if this description is true. The feeling gets even more intense when I watch all these darned desi movies with depictions of ideal families and joy and happiness that flow like the ganga. Those cliched scenes of mothers doting on sons and ramu/dinu/munshi kaka making baby's favorite halwa evoke a sense of loss in me.

And it does not end there. All my friends seem to have a great time with their families. I seem to be the only one who has serious issues with her family. The only one whose family is not always happy happy...taking trips and making halwa and laughing and joking. Its another thing that hubbs and I more than make up for our rather serious families. But still....these movies and books somehow set the expectations for you and they reinforce it movie after movie and book after book. Makes me want to have a large family....maybe I should have 7 or 8 children!!

Tuss Pataki!

2008-08-28T21:39:00.000-07:00

This week has been one of great speeches. While the Clintons (both) speeches annoyed me somewhat, Sen Obama more than made up for it. This man was incredible!! I just hope he delivers more than powerful speeches when he becomes President....err...because he just might!!

Anyway, I sat spell bound through the acceptance speech marvelling at sen Obama's oratorial skills. Of course, hubby dear was busy working while listening....so he mostly had his eyes on his laptop.

But when Sen Obama had finished, his family and friends joined him on the stage and the fireworks went off. My husband finished me off with "those fireworks look so lame" We laughed so hard!!

We might have been watching history in the making tonight....but those fireworks just could not keep up with the Chinese!! Dang!! They just spoiled all the fireworks fun for the rest of world!! Imagine Diwali, the 4th of July. Everything is going to fall flat, because all those people who Tivoed the opening and closing ceremonies will be watching them year after year....nothing is going to satisfy the fireworks fanatic anymore!! Double Dang!!

Raghu Dixit - About the album

2008-03-24T23:51:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer - This is not an objective review. It is my very subjective observation.

The album in question is Vishal & Shekar presents Raghu Dixit
The Artist – Raghu Dixit
The Band - The Raghu Dixit Project or RDP for short.

Enough has been said about the fact that it is Vishal & Shekar’s first album as a record label. Much more has been said about the Bollywood endorsement RDP has received. Btw, RDP is all over MTV India, which is great. And you can now hear RDP on KBCS - 91.3 FM if you are in the Seattle area or on the station website if you are in any other part of the world.
Shows most likely to be heard in:
Spice Route – Wed 2100-2300 PDT (which yours truly DJs every other week)
Daily Planet – Weekdays 1500 – 1700 PDT

Personally, I have enjoyed Raghu’s music from the time I first heard it. At that time, it was a welcome relief. Honestly RDP sounded too good to be true. It took me all of a day to believe that as an artist, Raghu was completely committed to creating his own style and niche.

For close to a decade, Raghu has performed in every major university, college, corporate house and music lounge in India. He has been interviewed on India’s national television and prominent magazines. The urban youth of the country has followed the trail Raghu has blazed and helped build momentum for the band and the brand. After all these years of toil and tears, promises and rejections, the album is finally a reality. And with the realization of his decade long dream, Raghu has become the poster boy of sorts for all those young Indian rock-star aspirants who perform at every given opportunity with a hairbrush for a microphone, head banging interrupted only by stellar air guitar work. But don’t be fooled. RDP is not just another rock band basking in its 15 minutes of fame, wearing itself out on one authentic set. This lungi wearing, anklet jangling, largely loved band might just have given a new dimension to the Indian music industry as a whole.

In India, the majority of people have no exposure or inclination towards musical styles other than Bollywood, traditional or classical music. For this vast majority, RDP opens an entire new world of sounds and possibilities. And the reason Raghu’s style works so well in this segment is because he makes the songs accessible and understandable. There is no over intellectualization or snobbishness in lyrics, music, delivery or the artist himself. He sings in all the languages he knows and if he learns a new one, he’ll probably sing in that language as well. For those people who are exposed to various music styles from around the world, there is sense of recognition and awe with each song. Raghu has perfectly described his style of music as ‘a seamless amalgamation of Indian ethnic music and sounds from around the world’. He calls the genre Indo-World-Folk-Rock. I believe it’s just a matter of time before more genres get strung to this existing set. As of now, I detect blues, jazz, Carnatic, dub, reggae…it is futile to put a check box in front of such music.

The poetry makes my heart swell with emotion and pride. There is the timeless poetry of Sishunala Sharief filled with ancient wisdom and wit. I have heard many people sing Sharief’s songs but the compositions and tunes have always been untouched over the decades. I suppose, no one wanted to even try and make them sound different. And then I heard Raghu’s version of Sorutihudu Maneya Maalige. When juxtaposed, the older and newer versions are completely different in style and intensity. Of course, I prefer Raghu’s version. Then there are younger contemporary poets such as Neeraj Singh and Aditya Dhar who write simple, attractive verses relevant to this day and generation. Raghu has found a way to not only bring together different sounds from around the world, but also balance the older and newer literatures. In doing so, he has started bridging the musical generation gap of India. The older people no longer consider all young artists as riff-raff and the younger people don’t crinkle their nose at older literature or wisdom. Raghu now has an assured audience from across all generations and sub cultures. Very smart indeed!!

And of course, his booming voice is unlike anything you have heard before. There is certain clarity and openness that takes you by surprise and holds your interest track after track. There are very few self trained musicians who can hold a note the way he does. His singing style has mellowed and matured over the years. But the intense organic emotion still takes me by surprise every now and then.

The band compliments Raghu’s music beautifully. I understand that as a band they are open to experimenting with new sounds and liaising with other artists from around the world. What a novel idea!!
Band members/ regular contributors–Gaurav Vaz, Anirban Chakravarthy, Darbuka Siva, Bruce Lee Mani, Vijay Joseph, Jithin Das, Sandeep, Keith Peters, Josy John, Manoj George, Dharma, Prakash Sontakke, Abhijeet, Rahool, Rzhude, Navin Iyer, Balaji, Bhavani Shankar and the loyal Bandappa. I think this list will keep growing over time.

About the album itself - the first thing that struck me was the album art. It’s a nice chunky booklet in an earthy shade of red. The album cover has a painted portrait of Raghu with guitar in hand. Bangalore based artist Manjunatha has done a fabulous job capturing all the intricate details down to the individual hairstyles of the band members and the necklace that Raghu wears at his concerts, in the traditional and tedious Indian miniature style of art. Apart from the paintings there are some very beautiful photographs from concerts as well as photo shoots in rural India. The concept and design is by Vasu Dixit, Raghu’s brother and a musician himself. The album art is an authentic representation of the music and the band. A lot of thought has been put into the details and it is all very charming indeed.

As a DJ, one of my nightmares is to flip open a CD jacket and find that there is no liner notes inside. This is particularly true of CDs that are from South Asia. CDS often come with no more that the track listing. At best you will find a booklet with lyrics or photographs. Usually, I am looking up the internet for album and track information seconds before I go on air and it’s not the most pleasant experience. While this album’s booklet has lovely pictures and paintings which I enjoy, I wish there was a little more information about each track. There are Hindi and English lyrics but there are no translations. Exceptions are the two Shishunala Sharief songs, with lyrics in Kannada, English and the translation as well.

The last page has Raghu’s thank you notes. It’s been a while since I enjoyed reading credits so much. His sense of humor and graciousness are apparent in those few lines.

Albeit, I think it is well worth applauding Raghu Dixit - the artist, the man, the album and his vision for RDP as a band.

There are several well written reviews I’d like to point out. Split Magazine’s Anand Varghese has done considerable justice. As has Vidya Pradhan of Water, No Ice. So, please take the time to read and then listen to the music If you like the artist and band, support them by buying their album. They are easier to find on the Indian market but will soon be available for sale in the US on www.CDbaby.com

Spring

2008-03-23T01:13:00.000-07:00

When the world lies dreamless
Floating in a timeless abyss
Pushing through rock and gravel
Inching upward they travel
Little forgotten miracles
Hyacinths, tulips, daffodils
Breaking the ground with life anew
Heralding beginnings in every hue

The Raghu Dixit Project.....

2008-03-07T14:32:00.002-08:00

Woohoo!! Finally...here it is. I have to credit this event for drawing me out of my self imposed hiatus and tend to my much neglected blog.

I have to share this with you. Take a listen to Raghu's music. After many years of blood, sweat and tears his first album has finally been released....and endorsed by the baadshahs and belles of bollywood . But honestly, the music is wonderful... His myspace page has samples...listen and order a copy of his CD.
The band blog

I am awaiting my first copy....and looking forward to introducing his voice to the airwaves of Seattle. :-)

Searching for you

2008-03-07T13:56:00.000-08:00

I strolled around taking pictures
with shaky restless fingers
trying to smother this new sight
with the crisp memories & old delight
when a man came by with a hop
from the nearby tea shop
bursting eagerly with questions
about possible transactions

“Do you work for the paper?”
“Will you buy this house?”
I spoke your name in reply
part question, part answer
he pondered and frowned
making the right sound
but he’d not heard of you
your name he never knew

This old house

2006-11-15T11:30:00.000-08:00

Jan 2006 - Pictures and Poem

I went by your house looking for you
Searching for a remnant of us
I expected to see smiles and tears
I thought of the questions and fears
I even expected accusations and jeers
But you were gone, you had moved on
You had faded even from the nameplate
That used to decorate your broken gate

The steps on which we sat and dreamt
Laughed back at me in bitter contempt
Tormenting, willing me to go back in time
to take a peek at this moment in its prime
A sepia picture of you bouncing out
A guitar, a grin and arms stretched out
I waved back, felt it was going to be okay,
But into distempered oblivion, you faded away

I went by your house looking for you
Searching for a remnant of us
All that’s left is a decrepit old carcass
of childhood stories and what once used to be us.
A broken castle with a lock old and rusty
Guarding scattered memories old and dusty
I came by your house looking for you
You are gone. You have moved on.

Frozen!!

2006-11-15T10:47:00.000-08:00

My last post was on 15 of August, 2006. Exactly 3 months ago.

I’ve comeback to my blog several times and I’ve sat in front of it for what always seems like several hours, just staring at the computer screen, wondering how to write. Its not that I find my mind emptied of content, just that I cannot bring myself to start committing my thoughts. Every sentence I want to type asks me the same question – What are you going to accomplish with me out there in the great world of sentences, vain and righteous? Will I touch someone’s life today and impact them, perhaps propel them towards some good? Will I be part of someone’s destiny? Am I the best that you can bring from within yourself? Am I the best representation of who you were or what you are? Do you really like me enough to represent you?

If I were to put it more simply, I find it hard to write something frivolous anymore. If it’s a piece of writing, then it has to be toward something, what’s the word…constructive?

I can write about my vacations or what I am doing now or any such thing….but what’s the point? The people who need to know are informed and those who read such things on a blog don’t really need to know what I am upto anyway. And then I can share my opinions….and accomplish what? Almost every blog site I used to write in or every group of people that I used to interact with have the same sort of issues. People argue endlessly and needlessly about things that don’t really make any sort of difference to anyone….unless it’s a momentary difference. So I’d only feel worse if I added more clutter and ended up making people snap and bite instead of ponder and respect, no?

I often wonder if it’s this strong thought is what should propel me towards writing more seriously – perhaps for a publication or something I can publish. But the co-ordinates seem off in my spirit. I am not talking about planets aligning and such, just that I don’t fell right about it in my gut. After all this time, after all the walking and progress, I still see that my fundamental questions are unanswered. Everything I do is a distraction from the gnawing question – what is the true purpose of my life?

I have almost 60 pieces of writing in various stages sitting in my computer. Some have been finished for close to a year now…but I hesitate. All I can do is sit here, in front of my screen, paralyzed and wondering. Frozen!!

Independence!!!

2006-08-15T00:11:00.000-07:00


National Anthem of India

During the 4th of July, someone stuck little American flags in everyone’s lawn; I let them be…they are still in some part of my yard. But, I don’t have the Indian flag flying in my yard. I have never drawn Rangolis or written messages on Independence Day. In fact, I have never been one to call myself patriotic. When I think of it, I guess I never really paid it much attention. I did not even engage in arguments about the state of our independent country. But this I know!! I have always loved my country.…

It seems like some old sentimental streak in me is getting more and more persistent. I started looking for videos and pictures of India. While on the net I noticed junta calling Jana Gana Mana the National Song of India…when did it become a song?? It’s the National Anthem for goodness’s sake!! An Anthem is very different from a song…Anyway, I found a few videos that I am celebrating this Independence Day with. Its 5 minutes to midnight and I am listening to Pandit Nehru’s ‘A Tryst with Destiny’ speech. And I am reminded of how the only time I liked wore flowers in my hair to school was during Independence Day – I made sure I wore Jasmine strung with very few orange flowers and green leaves. I suppose that does qualify for patriotism…

I don’t say it often enough…but I am so thankful to have the independence we do.
Happy Independence Day!!

The Speech -

http://www.harappa.com/sounds/nehru.html

http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/1947nehru1.html

Oh what a year!!

2006-06-27T23:52:00.000-07:00

I can’t remember when last I checked my blog or the associated mail ids. But I am overwhelmed by the number of comments/mails asking after me, wondering where I was etc. Thanks my friends!! I had no doubt that I was charming…but this loved!! Sniff sniff in joy!!

My hiatus has been eventful. Well, today is an event in itself. I turn 29 on the 28. The last year was the once in a life time 28 on 28th event!! Well…I feel it’s special to turn 29 on 28th…my birthday is always special to me. It makes me look back on my life and I always feel so grateful toward God not just for my life, but for all the people in my life, my family, friends, the twists and turns, the interesting lessons, the pain, the sorrow, the lack, the disappointments, the achievements, successes and victories, heck even the quiescence that I sometimes choose to call boredom. It’s all wonderful!! My life is wonderful!!

So what has happened in the past year of my life… the last 6 months specifically?

I traveled to India. Wow that was an awesome trip!! Meeting all the bloggers in Bangalore was one of the highlights of my trip. It was more than just putting faces to handles and names. It gave me an opportunity to understand relationships, myself, people and the beauty in them better. There are many many fun things we did…and no, I won’t write about them all here. I don’t know if I do want write everything…

India…Ah India!! What amazing things I did this time. I drove 800 Kms in 3 days with my parents. Stopping in over 6 different towns/cities, spending time with family and some old friends. I drove…by myself…and enjoyed it too. Mom and I drove down to Mysore, and met some of our oldest and dearest friends. People I have not seen since I last left Mysore in 1994. That was an emotionally overwhelming trip.

I managed to find some long lost friends. A childhood friend that I have not seen in 13 years. That was such a wonderful thing…The other was my best buddy in college. We parted ways after college and went separate ways. He was always on my mind but I did not know where to look for him. Eventually, I did track him down…That was so cool!! I also met my ex-boss in the airport on my way to Seattle…he was flying to SFO…I must write about this later on!!
I went down to my school in Mysore….Oh boy!! I will write about too that later…

I met the Bay area bloggers…that was fun too. We met up at a really nice restaurant for dinner…SSM, Peppo, Aditi and moi-self. We had spent the day at Berkeley and my family dropped me off for dinner near the restaurant and decided to grab a bit themselves in another restaurant. Then they walked around the area trying to stay close to where I was, while browsing the shops etc, and went past the restaurant a couple of times. They did not really see me, but my niece missed me so much that when she spotted me she ran up to the glass and tapped on it (we had a table by the street) Digressing, but remember that adorable scene from ‘A Perfect Day’ with Michelle Pfeiffer and George Clooney? Well she did not blow fish faces at me and I was looking away when she did come and tap the glass. Peppo got a good scare and we spoke about how kids could run around like that and what that was all about. Since I did not see the kid, I had no idea that this was my kid!! ...later on when we stepped out to go get some coffee and dessert, my niece spotted me again and ran towards me. Well…My family was embarrassed that they intruded on my time out with friends…but it was ok!! I can never forget the look on Peppy’s face!! Oh boy…that was totally worth it!!

I threw my husband a surprise birthday party. I managed to keep it a surprise…it took a lot of work; friends pitched in helped to keep him away on the day of the party. Poor guys, they went to play a game of golf, the weather turned out to be miserable…they played in the rain and sleet, finally gave up when the clubs started flying out of their hands, eventually they gave up and ended up playing board games at a friend’s house. But that was an awesome party. I managed to fit 30 of out closest friends in my small living room, and cook for all 30 of them. The orange cake with the orange curd glaze was a major hit; my almond cake was finished in minutes…as was the paneer tikka, the grilled shrimp, chicken samosas and veg puffs. I had also made rosemary pita chips, and some drinks as well…It was supposed to be a tea and cake party. It was a lot of planning…but it was totally worth the trouble!! Hubby dear was wowed and speechless for days.
After having lived in this country for over 3 years I finally got myself a driver’s permit!
I bought me a cool car…well an SUV actually! A Suzuki XL7 that I am enjoying thoroughly. I will not crib about the gas prices!!(so help me God!) I constantly fill the car with soil, mulch, plants and such things…It has a great sound system which I am enjoying very much!

I decided to give in to my darling dentist and finally went in for a check up. I have a phobia towards dentists. The more time they spend fixing my teeth, the more scared I am of them!!

I have grown a garden – I am still landscaping my back and front yard. It’s a lot of back breaking work…there is still a lot more to do. But I am determined to do it myself instead of hiring someone to do it…It makes the whole experience memorable. For instance the 375 lb sod cutting machine that my hubbs had to maneuver to remove some grass. More on that later...

I will be having another little niece in a few months!! That is just great!! We can now have our own little girlie gang in the family. Of course that means the pressure on us has quadrupled!!

It seems like I have given my camera a rest - temporarily!! This season on my life seems to have a lot of things packed in.

This will be my last year in the 20’s….the next year I turn 30 and my dad turns 60. I suddenly realized this the other day. It was humbling when I thought about how much more experienced and wise my father is than me…and how little credit I have given him. How much more he has to offer and how little I am willing to take.

This will be a good year….I know so!! I feel at peace with life, with myself and with my Maker….inspite of all the fears and doubts, I feel peace!!

Perhaps some I can say like Sinatra…

And now I think of my life as vintage wine

from fine old kegs
from the brim to the dregs
and it poured sweet and clear

It will be a very good year!! I know so!!

So much to tell

2006-02-17T09:36:00.000-08:00

I have so much to tell you
I don’t know how
I’ve brought stories anew
But I can’t speak now

Sweet effervescent desires
Bubble forth like a creek
Shades of crimson passion
Leave marks upon my cheek

I fumble and falter
While you coax and cajole
I stutter and mutter
Yet my heart feels whole

I have so much to tell you
I don’t know how
I have so much to tell you
But I can’t speak now

The Perfect Lover

2006-02-13T17:56:00.000-08:00

Meme for the moment - "8 qualities I want in a perfect lover"

First of all it is extremely cruel to ask happily married people to make up such lists. We (we insist) are happy with what we have, regardless of whether it is on the list or not. Those that are not happy are in the process of becoming happy. On the other hand, it causes us to revisit some of our ideas and notions about ‘the perfect partner’ as well as reevaluate our relationship/marriage. So I don’t mind writing this meme, although I must admit making this list was easy. But I had to be careful not to make this list too perfect, coz then I’d be subject to the perfection test and fail miserably!!

I got tagged several days ago…and I honestly forgot to write it up. Sorry Shpriya for the delay…but here goes.

1. If he cannot converse he cannot hold my interest. Must be able to make meaningful conversation. If we stop talking the romance is dying…

2. Can be as much of a guy (scratching, belching, chest thumping included) as he wants. I have no problem with him being who he is. In fact I’ll join him when he ogles at girls and even point out the few that he misses, engage in occasional belching contests and do as many guy things as I can. But when the time and place requires, he must be polished, suave and sexy!!

3. I want a man not a child and I don’t want a toy either. He must have a mind of his own and be able to think for himself. No room for imposition here, we are partners….and we are both allowed to make as many mistakes as it takes.

4. A great sense of humour, one that is not exclusively dependent on dirty stuff. If he cannot make me laugh I will forget to laugh and that will be a bad thing for this world. It is my man’s job to keep me entertained and vice versa. Either ways a lot of laughter is a must!!

5. Adventurous spirited chap. He has to be an outdoorsy kind of a guy, given to traveling, sports (since I know nothing of sports) and someone who will try most things that are new. Won’t include eating worms and things like that, but he must be able to bring in something new as I will.

6. Needless to say has to be well dressed and smell good and clean. Must have a sense of fashion…Goodness, I can’t think of being with a Govinda wannabe!! Or a garbage truck for that matter!!

7. He has to be passionate about life but balanced. Must be ambitious, energetic and driven but should also know how to kick back and smell the roses and violets and be spontaneous. Must have chutzpah!!

8. Books, music, good wine and good food, romance, chivalry, good taste, same wavelength, tuned to the inner me, quick to forgive and quicker to apologize etc etc…those go without saying, but hey, I’ll say it for the record anyway!!

To sum it up, James Bond will do!! But then what will I do with someone that’s that perfect? Everything will be so precisely tailored that I’d get bored. If he is perfect then I am expected to be perfect…so no thank you!! Besides, the moment we are perfect we die. Imperfection is what keeps us here on earth and connected to other imperfect souls.

And when I actually think about it, I have a better deal than I imagined. He gets 8 on 8 from my list!!

Heck I have someone even better than James the Bond!!

Am tagging - Vivek, Bharat, Nachi, Inter and Fizo

Tag Attack...7...?

2006-02-09T14:52:00.000-08:00

Man I got tagged!! And I shall have my revenge...muahhahhaaa!!

7 things I wish to do before I die

1.Live in Africa, Europe, South America and Australia for short durations of my life (yeah that’s most of the continents on the planet)
2.Own a boat and learn to sail (and fly as well…the tag says 7)
3.Start restaurants, many different kinds of restaurants in many different places.
4.Learn pottery (I’d add scuba diving, bungee jumping, sky diving, being in a rally, snowboarding and a whole bunch of other things…but again the tag says only 7)
5.Study more…a lot more.
6.Write one book and follow it with many books (don’t we all want that??)
7.Live one full day knowing that my life is complete and that I have fulfilled my purpose on earth. (a moment is not enough to bask in such divine knowledge) then I am ready to die!!

7 things I do not enjoy:

1.Being around obnoxiously loud and vulgar people or those that use a lot of cuss words needlessly.
2.Pretending (yeah I do it sometimes to get by) or tolerating pretense when subject to it.
3.Heavy Metal, Hard Rock and all its variants…acid, punk…blah!
4.Conversations where people say ‘like’ and ‘I don’t know’ excessively.
5.Getting up early in the morning.
6.Arguments with people I least expect to argue with.
7.Uncomfortable silences…not having anything to speak about.

7 things that attracted me to Blogging

1.I could write and share it without baggage and junk. I feel safe with my thoughts because I know there are others that think like me.
2.I get to witness amazing snapshots of people and their lives, stories and opinions and be a part of their life. The interaction is awesome!!
3.The blogososphere connects us all inexplicably. I love that!! The sense of déjà vu when you read something or know that someone across the world you never ever met is going thro the exact same thing at the exact same moment, or that they hold an answer to your question or vice versa. The entire 6 degrees of separation thing….I just love that!!
4.What I could learn….I find that addictive. There is tremendous wisdom to be gained…if we want it.
5.The possibility of new relationships, friendships beyond the comments and chats.
6.Blogging is a good way to channel my energy and restlessness. I sometimes have too much of both.
7.An effective way for me to chronicle my life and store memories. There are so many….and I want to remember everything.

7 things I say most often

1.Cool, neat, nice, awesome, wonderful…(depending on the season and various such peculiar aspects)
2.Correct, right
3.Thank You
4.Brilliant
5.Oh Man!!
6.For Goodness sake!!
7.Can you believe that!!
8.Bonus – When in India – Dear Lord, please help me find a parking spot…

7 Books I like (just 7 eh?)

1.The Bible (dont get spooked please!! I am normal!)
2.Crime and Punishment
3.Oliver Twist
4.Pride and Prejudice (actually all of Jane Austen)
5.To the Lighthouse
6.DHL (everything I have read that is)
7.Tintin and Asterix comics

7 Movies I want to watch (and have watched) again and again (Just 7..oh this is cruel!!)

1.Lawrence of Arabia
2.Gone with the Wind
3.The Apu trilogy, particularly Pather Panchali
4.Citizen Kane
5.Love Story (so not the Hindi one)
6.Before Sunset

7.Any movie that catches my fancy

7 pieces of Music I enjoy (just 7…this is really bad!! There are just too many genres and too many pieces. I’ll try, but…)

1.Tchaikovsky – Swan Lake
2.Handel – Messiah
3.Pancharatna Kritis – (particularly Jagadaananda karaka and Sadinchane O Manasa)
4.Jazz –for goodness sake, don’t ask for a single piece now!!
5.Fazal Qureshi and Shankar Mahadevan’s Tea Break – the whole darned album
6.Rabbi Shergill – Ishtihar from Bulla ki Jaana
7.Raghu Dixit – his rendition of Shishunala Sharifas’s songs – not yet released…look out for it

7 people I am tagging (muahhahhahaa!!)

1.Dooka

2.Doc Das

3.Vivek

4.Punds

5.Ano

6.Nithya

7.Parik/IW

RD Memories

2006-01-26T22:33:00.000-08:00

The date was 2nd Jan 2006.

The moment I drove past the big old Jacaranda tree with maroon and white stripes around its knotted midriff, I knew it. The tree has been standing strong for years, watching the years roll into decades, caching memories in its rings.

I wonder if the tree remembers a young gal running past it twice a day everyday for one whole year. She’d stop by the tree without fail, clutching her throbbing stomach while drawing loud raspy breaths of cold air into her heated lungs, squinting past the knotted trunk up towards the branches to see if there were flowers. She knew if there’d be flowers or not, but looked anyway. And all the while she’d count in her mind – 9, 10, 11…until one other girl ran past her. Then she’d reluctantly and silently bid adieu to the tree and start running again till she reached the designated post, to turn around and outrun the other girl. She never stopped by the tree on her way back.

I don’t know if the tree remembers me. But I remember everything…almost.

I remember how I loved the march-past at School. I absolutely loved being all stiff and angry looking, feeling important and patriotic, saluting Rev Fr D’Mello and Mrs Lobo, trying not to see the funny faces that the other girls from my class we pulling at me. My PT Master had selected just 3 girls from my class for the parade; the other girls were from the higher classes. I was so proud to be part of the team that I did not mind that I sometimes had to go to school a half an hour early or stay back late for practices. Come July, we’d start practice for the Independence Day march-past and come November we’d start practice for the Republic Day march-past. Republic Day was always more special, There were more activities, dances and such. The parade itself was longer and different, the band was bigger and we got motichur laddus instead of boring barfi. Once back at home, I’d watch the RD parade on TV wondering what fun the kids there might be having.

When in college I joined NCC. The first year was boring with identical drills and a camp with trenches for toilets, but the second year was an entirely different thing. Every morning my dad would drop me at this huge old bungalow at 5.00 am in the biting cold.

We were about 50 young girls and we had to run 6 kms every morning. We were timed every single day and each day missed was recorded, so you could not fall sick. Or you fell sick but still ran…like I did. My dad would time me as well, just to stay busy during the 45 minutes we were gone. Once back from the run/race we’d have drill practice.

Now when I look back its amazing that I even wanted to run like that. I cannot believe that I went through so much physical pain just to be part of the RD parade.

I never made it through the selections for the coveted RD parade inspite of being the first at that final selection race. Maybe I was lacking in some other important aspect …I always found those rifles too heavy to run with and could never get up fast enough with all the funny gear. The good thing is that I was not too disappointed. My dad was relieved because he did not have to deal with early mornings anymore and had just my late evening dance practices to endure.

It’s been many years since all this happened. It’s been many years since I watched the parade on TV. This year we called family back home. I forgot to ask, but I am sure Ma hoisted the Flag at her college and dad at his….

I feel like some Motichur laddu…Oh and a Happy belated Republic Day!!

A few days ago while still in India I saw this on CNN-IBN. http://www.ibnlive.com/article.php?id=3497&section_id=3 (watch the video as well)

Bengalooru Bloggers - An introduction to Ananthu

2006-01-24T01:24:00.000-08:00

After the initial 20 day euphoria of family and extended family, a very wonderful wedding (pictures of which you shall see later), I was suddenly left alone. Both mum and dad were at their respective colleges, I have no siblings to bicker and bond with and I was done with food and sleep. It almost seemed impossible!! How was I going to fill every day of the next 2 months of my stay in India with 12 hours with activities ? The activities had to be interesting too. But man was I worrying over nothing!!

The absolute first blogger I met was….(tatta da daa da ta daa da ta da – in the background plays the theme from Rocky)….ANANTHU. No prizes for guessing that!! So, here I was in the general area that he works in, running a few annoying errands and it happened to be lunch time and I was starving. We decided I’d park at his office and so that’s where we met - at the great big gate to his office building. He seemed to be completely at ease, he'd done this many times before with other people. Although I bet he was praying like mad that I was not this crazed junkie high on something other than coffee that was going to chop him up into tiny pieces and feed them to the goats right after lunch. Me…? Well I was more concerned about him. He was going to end up in pieces after all… ;-)

So he took me to this nice looking ‘new’ restaurant with sparkly lights and Italian marble flooring. As soon as we settled in, I mentioned to Ananthu this other restaurant in the same area that hubbs and I used to frequent years ago. He agreed they make great Oota (food). So, without wasting another hungry moment the two of us slid out of our seats and headed towards the noisier, more crowded, un-fancy Andhra style restaurant that serves amazing banana leaf food. (Sorry Ananthu, I still don’t remember the name of the ‘joint’, you will have to provide that) On the way there, Ananthu very nonchalantly said, “I actually thought of that place, but then thought you might not like it. I thought I’d take you to a more decent looking place at least the first time we met”. (gaaaawd, I feel deeply for the girls of Bengalooru!! He has every idea to impress them ladies minto-phress ishtyle, I am certain. Bechaari kudiyaan!!)

So we talked and joked and mentioned many times that we had to meet again and have a DSS meet as well. When back at the parking lot, Ananthu took me around to show me his new bike. And he could not find it because there were some 50 similar bikes in the same row. So after hunting it down, he eventually showed me the cool wheels and we discussed biking and such things and eventually focused on the uncomfortable looking seat. I asked if the pillion rider would be safe and Ananthu said, “who cares!” Double dang!! There went my hopes of a fun bike ride around the city with Ananthu! Apparently bikes like Ananthu’s are called bachelor bikes….I will let you draw your own conclusions about this, but just to point you in the right direction of my thoughts I will say that the term ‘Bachelor Bike’ has less to do with comfort for the pillion rider and more to do with the sudden brakes that the rider applies…..yeah you thought right!! Well, this is the age to play right??

After the vaahan darshan I quickly took down the mobile numbers of the other cool Bengalooru Bloggers and touched base with a few of them right there. I now recollect Pradz had a score to settle with Ananthu that first time I spoke with him…wonder if that was sorted out….Now that I have ‘bathhi hachhi-fied’ (lit the wick….hopefully to a new bomb…its a Kannada expression), my job for the first report is done…

There is still a lot more to say,
but for now ashte!! (ashte = That’s all/That’s it.)
Same time, some other day!!
Nimma preethiya Chay (Your loving Chay…. don’t gag on the corny stuff please!! Try and smile instead....) :-)

Nothing at all....

2006-01-20T00:56:00.000-08:00

Really it’s nothing!
Nothing at all!

A raised eyebrow,
the beginning of a smile.
An unfinished sonnet,
a number to dial.
Scraps of papers
with scratchy old songs.
Broken dreams of
absolutely nothing

All the tiny nothings
gather to make a little
something, that makes my
foolish heart long and
ache for a reflection
of an old wild emotion
that now is nothing,
but scraps of empty images..

Really it’s nothing!
Absolutely nothing!

Coffee shop stories

2006-01-08T20:06:00.000-08:00

Jan 6th 2006, Bangalore.

Late as expected….is anyone ever on time in this city?? I stood there muttering to myself. I was partly annoyed because there was not a single place within the city that was actually quiet and had good coffee, at least none that I knew of. And of the two requirements – quiet and coffee, coffee seemed to be more important. After all isn’t that what people do when they are seeing someone after a long time….meet for coffee?? Well, he was not to blame, I was 10 minutes early. I decided to stop pacing and forced myself to sit and concentrate on my white porcelain cup of filter coffee.

And there, in that street side café, tucked away in a little island of privacy, protected by potted palms and loud honking, stood a young boy with his head hanging. She sat facing away from him and trying to be unobvious wiped away a lonely tear that had managed to break loose from the taut dyke in her heart.

The tear from his eye splashed loudly on the hard concrete floor…it sounded like a perfect piece of crystal disintegrating into a million tiny pieces. He was brave! He did not hide his brokenness or his lack of comprehension. Instead he just held her hand…she had offered it as a handshake. The age old dialogue of, “Let’s remain friends”, had been abused once again.

He was shaken up badly; he was staring at her in disbelief, trying to shake off what was happening. She seemed so certain, so in control, so darned certain of everything she was doing!!

But she was the vulnerable one. On her face was a sheer veil of steel and glass, and he could see that it was fake.... The frail façade melted his heart yet again and he sat her down. He took her face in his hands tenderly and looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to stay. The pain he inflicted gave him a cruel satisfaction. The remorse of having made it difficult for her took him by surprise and he let her look away. Confused and angry, he sat at her feet and put his head in her lap.

His tears stained her skirt with his bleeding heart. Her fingers strolled through his locks and left hot trails of young passion. She let his burning tears sear her flesh with fragrant memories. And he let her fingers sear his mind with her unsung songs.

They sat there soaking in every emotion, every moment. Unable to speak, unable to leave, unable to do anything but grieve a premature death…. I sat there watching dumbfounded, unable to look away.

What is it with coffee shops and heartbreaks anyway?? There is a story in every cup of coffee. In one cup is a heartbreak and in another a reunion. I wonder how much coffee there is in this world.

From behind the foolish young couple that was letting go of life so easily, walked a familiar frame...a face that looked just a little different…and a smile that was absolutely exactly the same.

We stood there looking at each other and laughing for what seemed like the entire decade and a half that had lapsed between us. The hug assured us both that we would make up for the time we had lost…that nothing much had changed except time. The noises from the traffic and the radio were now lost in the laughter of childhood friends….We sat across the table, neither of us could speak. We just let the silence between us make new music…make our feet dance again…make us the same children once again….

Behind my friend in red and purple lettering was written, 'a lot can happen over coffee'

I love coffee shops!!!

Tu kaunsa machhi hain??

2005-12-27T09:18:00.000-08:00

IMO, 3 stars is gross injustice!! It deserves atleast 4…

I am talking of Bluffmaster. I did not yawn once, did not switch off once and laughed loads…I mean loads and came out wondering when I was going to see it again!! It was nothing that mainstream cinema is supposed to be. Haan bhai, isme drama hain, action hain, romance bhi hain, aur ekdum se hatke bhi hain. (yesss boss, its got drama and action, and romance and its different too) But really it’s different!! It’s light and entertaining and did not give me a headache. Trust me that says a lot!! :-))

I had been looking forward to this movie and so took my mom dearest to the much hyped ‘mall cinemas’…multiplexes I believe is the appropriate term. Pardon my lack of ezzucassan in such matters; I am known to be full of total ignosanse in such matters!! :-p

Abhishek was cute and all that he normally is, but he sure is a good rapper. J saala he can rap yaar!! I mean really rap and act/dance/move like he is a rapper and all. But cuter still was Hitesh. Priyanka can actually act and that was a real relief. Boman Irani as expected added liberal doses of good clean fun and was really good, but there was too little of him. But Nana Patekar was the one that stole the show….the guy is too good for words!!

No, I am not going to write another review with the plot and dialogue and everything in the movie….what reason will you have then to watch the picture?? But speaking of dialogue…it was good!! The smattering of advertisements was a bit annoying, but then Bollywood mein sab chalta hain, nee?? There were some witty lines that ‘I’d like to write so that I can use it some day’. The music…excellent!! The extreme close-ups were quite good too….would love to write more about such details, but am too darned tired to do that now. I called the bluff quite early on…lets see when you catch on… ;-)

Watch it!! Its good fun….ekdum time pass, the bakwaas is totally worth it!!

Gone Fishing!! ;-)
Chay

Road Safety Week....

2005-12-19T11:26:00.000-08:00

I have been driving around town like a taxi driver these past few days thanks to a family function that is coming up later this week. And each day on the road is interesting and by that I don’t mean just the madness of the traffic, but rather the sights that I have been observing….

For instance, today, I encountered a whole bunch of school kids on bicycles. They were all young teenage boys wearing T-shirts with ‘Road Safety Week’ in red. They were being ‘guided’ by a couple of men (teachers?) on bikes wearing similar clothes and carrying placards. I was driving in the same direction that they were riding and so could not quite see what was written on the placards that were placed in the front of each bicycle…but I gathered they were various messages, like ‘don’t drink and drive’, ‘obey traffic rules’, etc. I did manage to pull out my camera and shoot some pics at traffic signals.

But here’s what was happened….these kids were carrying these ‘be safe’ placards and weaving in and out of heavy traffic between cars and bikes and trucks and auto rickshaws like nobody’s business. They seemed to be in a hurry and were being instructed by the teachers to cut thru the traffic to gain speed. Just as I was thinking about how unsafe it actually was for them to proclaim safety in such a manner, one of the kids met with an accident. The boy was trying to squeeze thru a mo-bike and the curb/footpath and ended up in front of a moving auto and fell off his bicycle. The supposed ‘guide’ saw him falling and chose to drive on as though he were a total stranger and he knew nothing about the boy….

It’s bad enough that 13 and 14 year old kids have to ride thru such traffic to school and back…putting them thru such dangers in the name of safety, trusting that they are indeed being watched over by such teachers is outright stupidity!!

Road Safety indeed!!

Homeward Bound

2005-11-23T11:40:00.000-08:00

Nov 15th 2005

The ultimate late latif that I am, I ran towards the train when there was 5 minutes left for departure and no seats that could be found easily. Jam packed, the train slowly pulled out of ‘Majestic’…to slowly reveal the city that my home is around the outskirts. Filth filled, steeped in poverty, sheltering crime both big and small, guarding secrets and stories, untouched by the wealth that was right above it, shack after shack, drain after drain, settlement after settlement they passed by. Like the filthy rags covering an old jewel, the moving train removed all the things that make Bangalore the city she has become. I was surprised at how quickly my heartbeat dropped to a more normal pace as soon as we were outside the city. It felt like the beginning of life as I have known in India, sanity that I truly appreciate!!

The earth continues to be red and fiery at some places and unforgiving and dry at other places. Puddles were aplenty, lakes were full, all thanks to the unrelenting rains. The coconut plantations looked fuller and healthier. I hear the disease that wiped out plantations together is now almost gone. When I was younger one could not spot an areca tree near Bangalore. This time around, there were a few plantations far away from where they belong. The lush green fronds of the Areca trees tugged so strongly at my heart that the cords to a purse full of tears came undone. After being in the country for almost 2 weeks, I finally felt like I was home. Amazing!! The memories that I least treasured are those that are the strongest!!

I simply had to have a cup of railway ‘Kaaffey’. The child in the seat beside split his hot coffee on his lap, I instinctively tightened the grip on my paper cup. My butter fingers have burnt me quite a few times when I was a kid. The light brown watery concoction they call coffee is actually better than it used to be. The maddur vada that went with it was perfect. Railway snacking at its best!!

The lady opposite me wanted to sit in 2 seats instead of one, until someone bullied her right out of her selfishness, grudgingly though. After muttering under her breath for a few minutes her attention turned towards me. Where am I going? Do I live there? Do I work elsewhere? Why do I have a mangalsutra on my neck, but no bindi? What does my husband do? I looked out the window at the dogs barking and chasing the train. After a barrage of unanswered questions, finally the important one – whose family do I belong to in my hometown? That one I answered quickly and was never bothered again. This was the first of many times in this trip, that I was thankful for belonging to a certain family.

I usually don’t converse with people in trains. I keep to myself and my book, alas I had forgotten mine. The person next to me was only too happy that I was not exactly engaged in anything, so he turned on some movie on his mobile, half sharing it with me, perhaps hoping that I would lean over. Then he made a loud call on his mobile phone and mentioned words like ‘bhai’ and ‘khokha’. Mercifully another girl came and sat between us. At some point we all started conversing. Between the stream of blind and crippled beggars, to those that hand out cards with stories and pictures on them and then come again to collect money, the cups of coffee and packets of kurkure, I learnt that the man was Muslim, married to a Gujrati Jain, living in Mumbai and his family of 4 kids and wife were in another town. The girl next to me apparently has some physical ailment and suffers from the belief that she is not pretty. I told her I thought she was pretty. I don’t know if she heard me loud enough.

Halfway through, we were supposed to change trains. I learnt that some relatives were sitting right behind me and that they knew I was sitting there, but did not to speak with me, perhaps because the train was so crowded. Blessings of blessings they informed me that their son is also in Seattle and they will be visiting him about the same time I leave for home and hearth. Wondering about why they did not speak with me, I continued the journey with them. We made new conversation and caught up after what must have been a decade.

It was already dark when I arrived. My cousins were thrilled to see me, as were the many aunties and uncles. My nieces and nephews were overjoyed, shy and eager all at once. (my oldest niece is just 4 years younger than me!!) A quick cup of coffee and out came the Mehendi cones. Accusations about having ditched everyone for Mehendi and decorated my hands and feet got louder and louder along with demands for patterns on hands. I had gotten my hands and feet Hennaed a day before and was all set for the wedding. The Mehendi process went on for 3 or 4 hours and all my cousins and bhabhis/athiges and nieces and nephews were all satisfied.

When I finally hit the sack that night, it was well past bed time. But all that I could manage were tears…No fun is fun when your soul mate is not with you.

More later….

(The day is the 24th Nov, time is 1.15 am and it continues to rain outside. It might as well be Seattle!! Net connection here is pathetic, so please bear with me regarding replies and mails. Delays are unavoidable!!)

Bangalore Bits - 1

2005-11-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

Bangalore – The city that always was a dream. While growing up, a trip to the city with my dad was a treat that was more desired than a day off from school. An early morning train ride that was made more memorable by the fragrant masala dosas and maddur vadas which were ferried on the shoulders of many familiar vendors some of whom we knew by name and in turn we were known simply as sir or madam or amma. That was Bangalore - with its India Coffee House and British Council Library. What a city it was – Bangalore – the Garden city, wide roads, larger than life trees, great cinema, Kalakshetra and pubs . Bangalore – where life could be perfect…nearly perfect!!

That was then! This is now!

The first word that came to my mind as I went through the immigration when I arrived was ‘chaos’. Utter, absolute chaos. …The beginning of a vacation eh!!

The day after I landed I drove through the roads and have been driving since. One year is not a long time is it?? And yet, it seems like a very long time. The traffic was terrible this time last year. If that was terrible, what is this?? Maha terrible would be an understatement. It’s almost like every person is going around with his/her own personal escort screaming ‘hoshiyaar!! Here comes…so and so’ and blowing and banging loud trumpets and cymbals. Each horn is unique to its owner…but they are all the same – loud and ear shattering. Before I left Seattle a friend who was recently here for the very first time in his life said, ‘I can’t believe how noisy India is!’ and I had laughed. I’ve had a headache for a while now….everyone talks louder, people scream, the TV or music system is always on, people constantly interrupt conversations and I just keep looking at everyone like I have never seen them. I think everyone is going a wee bit deaf in the city.

I watched a couple of plays at the Rangashankara Theatre Festival. Watched ‘A Deep Friend Jam’ and like most of the audience came out wondering if I really am that dumb. The person on my left was yawning for most part of the play and the person on right was fidgeting through out. All of us were sighing deeply for lack of comprehension and checking our watches willing time to move faster. If someone here watched it and understood all the acts, please educate me…..Then there was Vijay Tendulkar’s Ghasiram Kotwal in Kannada. Directed by Jayshree, it was quite enjoyable. The last time I saw Jayashree on stage was when I was 14. The play was Kusumabale and the repertoire was Rangayana of Mysore. How time flies…it’s been almost 15 years!!

Ate Mum’s Biryani, and even better ate Nandhini’s Biryani…(I hope all the bengaloorians are shedding drool and tears…muahhahhahaaaaa!!!!) I have a long list of places to eat at…will be sure to keep the US parians well informed…I am a temporary ISparian, aren’t I??

The last 2 days have been phone call days. I am certain I have forgotten to call some important uncle or some favorite cousin and will have to put out fake fires in a while from now. ‘You never called me!!! What?? You have forgotten us or what??’ oh what joy there is in such nok jhok!!

The funniest call was also the first of what I believe is something I better prepare myself for. This person called and hung up when I answered. Then he called and I could not hear what he said. And I had no clue about who was making blank calls so soon after I landed here. Finally I thought I’d better find out who was trying to reach me (of course, secretly I hoped it was an old charmer) so I called back.

“Hi, I just received a call from your number and I was wondering who this might be.”
“Who did you give the number to”?
Pause “err…excuse me but I just received a call from your number and I was wondering if you just called me on my mobile”
“Yes, I did. But how many people have you given this number to?”
interrupted by MIL, so I say something in Kannada and step out of the house for a bit so I don’t have to pretend to be this nice goody girl who does not yell at strangers on the phone.
“this is so and so, did you just call me? (tone is a bit more business like)
“parvagilla nananna kannada dale maataadsa bahudu” (oh! that’s ok, you can speak with me kannada)
“Ananthu!!!!”
laughter
A few more sentences exchanged and then “Can I call you back?? I am at my in laws??”
A very apologetic Ananthu….
Much later I was driving back home and had a long talk with the (in)famous Ananthu. He was very worried that I might get distracted by his jokes and teasing while driving thru’ the Bangalore maze. I also learnt that Ananthu dear was good to me and that a certain Miss Aditi almost recruited a certain Bratz Pradz to some company on another galaxy. Boy was Ananthu good to me!!

Back home I watched a kannada movie – Aaptamithra which is a rip off from manichitrataazha (is that the right spelling??)….It is the first Kannada movie I have watched in several years. That call was interrupted by another blogger bud. Gosh I love bloggers!!!

Speaking of weddings…there’s one just around the corner. Can’t wait for banana leaf food and fun times with cousins.

Home sweet home!! More later!!

porn star for governor...??

2005-09-09T00:30:00.000-07:00

I suppose there are no laws that would prevent a porn star from running for Governor. Especially when her only agenda is to ensure that lap dances are tax deductible….makes me wonder, is she serious or joking?? Is she really as dumb as she looks? The giggle is sickening….as is the extreme boob job. Gosh this is frightening!! If a porn star thinks my state is too conservative then there is a good possibility that she plans to turn Seattle into Vegas…!! What will they have then…? Porn stars working day jobs as school teachers teaching teenagers that abstinence is the best way to avoid AIDS and pregnancy??

No Sir!! I am not tolerant of anyone who peddles sex in anyway!! Least of all a porn star who wants to run for Governor whose platform is more liberal adult entertainment laws and nothing else….

The story

The business of health...

2005-09-09T00:10:00.000-07:00

For a long time people in the US have discussed the ridiculous healthcare costs. Insurance companies, healthcare providers and hospitals have made the process of saving life and promoting health a joke, a very profitable one at that.

I had my wisdom teeth removed a few months ago. While I had my family dentist in India confirm the necessity to remove two of them, the other two had to go, or so insisted my dentist and orthodontist. After the surgery, I learnt that it would not have killed me if the other two teeth were left untouched. The doctor’s son was removing the stitches after a few days when he casually said, ‘We like to take out the wisdom teeth. You never know, they might cause problems’. Preventive medicine of sorts eh!! I must say I miss my wisdom teeth….

Another time I had to visit to a dermatologist because I had a sudden spurt of breakouts on my face. She prescribed 1200 mg of erythromycin for a period of 15 days before going back to see her. Naïve me, trusted her. I went ahead and took the meds without checking the strength, only to wake up hubbs in the middle of the night on the second dose on the first day. The following morning, I called the doctor up and asked why on earth she had prescribed 1200 mg of a strong antibiotic with a side effect of mild to severe heartburn to a patient with a history of hyperacidity. She curtly told me to cut the dose by a quarter and reminded me that she was a doctor of with considerable experience. I later figured out it was a new brand of moisturizer that was causing the problem. By then I had trashed the meds and the doctor.

But the funniest incident was when my husband had a case of tendonitis in one of his fingers. We are no doctors, but we needed no special skills to determine that what he suffered from was tendonitis. After some 5 days of tiger balm and massages, I got a bit worried and insisted that we go see a physician. The doctor had a beautiful office with stunning leather armchairs and imposing bookshelves with thick fat books. He also had a dog, right there in the examination room. Now I have many doctors in my family and a few of them have dogs. But I don’t recall having walked into any doctor’s office at any point of time and been greeted by their pets. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, but I really would feel a lot safer in a sterile super clean examination room that smells like dettol instead of a plush room with a pet dog that sheds enough hair with which you can weave a new carpet!! Anyway, after spending 15 minutes discussing the family history and such details on a form that we had already spent 15 minutes to fill out, he spent some 10 minutes observing the finger in question. He then walked to a book shelf and spent a couple of minutes looking for the appropriate book, thumbed thru one, put it back, looked for another, put it back, chose yet another, and finally came back to us with an open page. He showed us a picture of a swollen finger and told us it was a normal thing that was called….tendonitis. Hubbs and I exchanged a look that said ‘D’uh!!’, but he must have perceived us as ignorant fools, so he went on to explain what it was. By now my husband had crossed over from a state of amusement to one of irritation. After another 15 minutes we walked out with a sample sachet of something like tiger balm, instructions to massage and a list of tests which we had just done during a physical a month ago. Dr. L wanted all the vitals done again. By now we were too weary to argue or explain…so we nodded and never went back to him.

The bills these doctors sent me…the orthodontist charged me some $600 (the insurance covered the remainder of the $3000) , the stupid but experienced dermatologist charged me close to a $100 (plus some $ 150 for the prescription meds) and the physician that taught us what tendonitis was….well he charged us only the $10 copay. But he did send a very nice letter to us and all his other patients that he was now retiring. The brochure in his office said he was 36 years old. But he had obviously made enough money to retire…wonder if they teach that in Med school as well…how to charge patients effectively so that you can retire early!!

I now can imagine to a certain extent, as to how a person might feel when right after a 5 minute surgery they are sent a bill for an outrageous amount of money.
And I know now that it is best if you don’t trust your doctors 100%...And not just because of stories such as this one.

One of our dearest friends complained of back aches. She assumed she had hurt herself during a session of Pilates. The pain was so bad she could not move from her bed. Her chiropractor, a certain Dr. Ash Patel, gave her an appointment 2 weeks after she told him she had severe pain. 2 more weeks later they scheduled a series of tests for her, which gave them no clue about the problem. With no effective way to manage the pain (the pain killers did not workmuch) she resorted to lying on the floor for hours together to ease the pain. For some reason hubbs and I felt very strongly that she needed to get a second opinion and I was relentless in persuading her to go to someone else. By now 7 weeks were over and they had been to the ER once in the middle of the night because of the pain. The second doctor looks at her test results and asks her if she can go into surgery right away. On the way out they bump into Dear Dr. Ash Patel (with an office across Doctor No. 2) who says, ‘well, you could still have some back problems. Come see me after the surgery’ Can you believe that!! No apology…nothing…!! I swear I am going to sock that cocky guy’s jaw if I ever see him!! But anyway, what they thought was a gall bladder infection turned out to be something more serious. My friend came out of the OR after a gastric bypass surgery because the entire lower half of her stomach was damaged due to a ruptured ulcer. The second doctor thinks she could have died had they waited another week. Back problem indeed!!

I hear things like this and wonder where the real doctors are!! Or am I just not lucky enough to know them. Where are the good doctors, like that 100 year old homeopath in Jaynagar who was blind but heard my voice and told me I was drinking too much coffee? Or that doctor who went entirely by instinct and saved my husband’s life? Or that heart surgeon who had one look at my dad’s records and told us it was angina and not an MI like all the heart specialists had told us up until that minute?

It is sad that one has to be concerned about being fleeced even while getting medical care. I find myself at a loss of words. I can’t quite describe the disgust I feel or the anger that I feel. All I know is that I am not going to trust a doctor in the US easily….In India it’s a different story. I’d not go to a stranger and I feel safe with any of my doctors. I know their prime concern is my health, that I will only get tests that I need, that only parts of my body that really need to go will go. Yeah, we hear of the occasional scalpel or wad of gauze that was left inside the body after a surgery, but I’d rather take that risk than worry about being charged $129 for a mucous recovery system….in English that’s a box of Kleenex!!

Outrageous!!

New Orleans and Mumbai...

2005-09-08T10:44:00.000-07:00

this is a forward mail I recieved from a dear friend. i just had to blog it...

couldnt' stop making this comparison..

inches of rain in new orleans due to hurricane katrina... 18
inches of rain in mumbai (July 27th).... 37.1

population of new orleans... 484,674
population of mumbai.... 12,622,500

deaths in new orleans within 48 hours of katrina...100
deaths in mumbai within 48hours of rain.. 37.

number of people to be evacuated in new orleans... entire city..wohh
number of people evacuated in mumbai...10,000

Cases of shooting and violence in new orleans...Countless
Cases of shooting and violence in mumbai.. NONE

Time taken for US army to reach new orleans... 48hours
Time taken for Indian army and navy to reach mumbai...12hours

status 48hours later...new orleans is still waiting for relief, army and electricty
status 48hours later..mumbai is back on its feet and is business is as usual

USA...world's most developed nation
India...third world country..

oopss...did i get the last fact wrong???

while the last line does seem a bit cruel, the developed countries like the US have never really needed to cope by themselves in a long time. The people are so dependant on infrastructure and facilities that they find it hard to think on their feet and act accordingly. the people of poorer countries on the other hand are more resilient. for most of their lives, they've had to fend for themselves and when a disaster strikes, they just find a way to pick up and go....I am not sure how that makes me feel though - resilience! It somehow implies that just because a certain people are resilient and can handle more, its ok for them to be in extreme conditions for longer periods of time. In so many ways it dehumanizes the more developed countries simply because they cannot relate to life in say...Niger...perhaps Katrina has made some people more humane towards the tsunami struck areas....perhaps the levels of empathy will increase...no one should have to suffer such losses....perhaps it can make America look at its excesses and find ways to live better....just some thoughts!!

love...

2005-08-26T12:21:00.000-07:00

What would my life be if I had lived another way??
If instead of you, I had loved someone else?
Would I have been less wiser or any quieter?
Would I have laughed any less or cried more?

As I ponder the maybes and the maybe nots,
I watch the many strings that run between us,
Delicate, blood soaked threads
Lovingly arranged, intricately intertwined

We braved death and laughed at his face
We lived life and loved it
After the simplicity of life and death
Love, I see, holds no meaning anymore

....a poem i wrote many moons ago

welcome back....

2005-08-17T00:21:00.000-07:00

Was it a dream?
It must have been a dream…
but wait! It is not a dream…it is real!
Here you are, right in front of me.
As always the first thing I see
is your face
Your delicate eyelids
holding last minute dreams
that skittle around
for fear of being chased away
by the growing line of golden warmth
Your mouth – a child’s pout
Full of innocence
the same tenderness
that flows in your honey kisses
Your palms curled up
under your cheek
holding in them butterflies
and baggage tags
Your breathing steady and calm
Always the same
I took me a while
to remember how
you got here
For months
your pillow had been
untouched

Fishy Finds....

2005-08-13T17:09:00.000-07:00

Hubbs was at the conference and I had all the time to myself in a city I loved. I really enjoy exploring a new place on my own; I can do it at a pace that I and I alone set. I can do what I enjoy and I don’t have to make adjustments of any kind.

Yeah, the city is Vancouver, BC and this was earlier this spring. On one such day, I packed my camera and a book and headed out of my hotel without any plans. I walked for hours together, and took a lot of pictures, most of which I have uploaded onto my sites by now (still holding my faves…will eventually post it all).

My long walk led me to Sun Yat Sen Chinese Gardens. The China town was closed, it was some holiday I can’t remember. But the Garden was open. It’s a small little garden, but it’s always beautiful and inviting.

I sat there for a while watching lovers and children play games of different kinds. I saw some other things as well….

I saw - A Reflective Koi , a fish undergoing some serious psychological issues and a few gossip mongers. I am not kidding, go see for yourself....

Yahoo Messenger with voice....

2005-08-12T01:14:00.000-07:00

I just downloaded version 7 of Yahoo Messenger. It’s got some really neat features…

Free PC to PC calling…what's new about that?? They claim the sound quality is good…well we just have to see about that. I am going to try this asap!! But here's what's new - it also allows you to receive/leave voice mails and there is a call history as well!! Talk about seamless integration.

One the most useful features is the ‘find, add & share friends’ feature. It allows you to import your contacts from MS outlook as well as your yahoo mail. They have also updated the address book features and it looks like its going to be a lot more manageable now. Now is probably a good time to get rid of my other yahoo ids and stick to one.

What I thought was super cool is the ‘livewords’ beta. It allows you to search for words while you are chatting. (Will ‘google’ make its way out of the dictionary? Hmmm…I wonder!) An icon appears on words that are listed and if you highlight the word, it throws up search results on a new screen. Saves me from saying ‘brb, googling that’ while chatting…how neat is that?!

Ditto for the search option that you can use there…just type s: followed by whatever u want to search and it throws up a link that can be used. All adding to the information overload. I wonder how soon they are going to start selling mobile brain storage pods that u can plug in to your brain for that extra space. Maybe we could all get USB ports installed into our ears. Princess Lea’s buns could actually serve a purpose here!! Wow…!!

There is an updated FTP feature…you can now drag and drop of files and photos directly onto the chat screen. It also allows you to upload more number of photos and shows you which of your photos are being viewed by which of your friends. Pretty cool huh!! I till prefer flickr.com!! (blatant self promotion)

Incidentally Yahoo has launched their blog site ‘Yahoo 360-beta’. Looks cool, am yet to explore it. There is a 360 degree integration as well, perfect for mo-bloggers and there are new ring tones for mobiles. I love the ‘new tabs’ feature as well. Again, my head’s going to explode one of these days from information over load!!

They’ve added more audibles…there are a few cute ones in Hindi as well!! Famous Bollywood comedians and their famous lines are employed. I think it’s cute, especially the Amol Palekar one ‘Aap meer saath coffee peene chalenge kya?’ Was that from Rajnigandha?? Then there is a Govinda one that just cracked me up!!

There’s a whole bunch of smiley audibles that are absolutely adorable. Complete with baby noises and gurgles and giggles and muahhahhaaas. I am going to freak out with this!! The only hitch is that they are in Chinese and Taiwanese….oh well, it gives my fellow chatterboxes something to imagine and an opportunity to become more acquainted with China!! China is hot and no one wants to leave them out….not even YM!!

Also new are some smileys…particularly 2 useful ones are ‘call me’ and ‘on the phone’. There’s one that also says time out…perfect for those miscommunications that seem to rule chat-sphere. [I won’t have to say ‘one sec’ anymore and my knuckles might actually get a chance to heal!! ]

More fun times ahead methinks….!!

I am not a pro tech blogger....in fact this is my first one. so if this does not live up to your standards, be patient please!! :-)

thieves of innocence - insecurity

2005-08-10T09:36:00.000-07:00

I wrote a part of this blog and posted it on my site, and since then, friends – virtual and real, have been asking me why it is not posted where it should be. I wanted to let it go…forget the incident. But after many discussions, I have come to the conclusion that that is not exactly a responsible option. Like my husband reminded me earlier today, there is a time to keep quiet and a time to speak, a time to hold your peace and a time to retaliate.

It is futile to add disclaimers, so none shall be sent out as outriders.

--------------------

The very first time I was subject to such didactic dogma was when I was 9 years old. I was particularly interested in tadpoles and had devoured the thin encyclopedia at the school library. But my interest was still young and mind was still unsatisfied, so, I started looking for them at the construction tank right next to the school building. It was en route the little girls’ room and provided ample entertainment for me. And when I found a boy from my class showing the same enthusiasm towards these tadpoles, I extended my hand of friendship. It was just a matter of time before we became thick pals, exchanging books and notes, carrying the tadpoles to our homes in our water bottles and getting similar reactions from our respective mothers. We ate together, played together and we were happy together. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the picture….except some of the other children around us saw something we did not.

The ‘problem’ was, that I was a girl and the boy concerned was…well, a boy. At age 9, we were beginning to get a reputation for being wild. I did not understand it and I am thankful I did not. The matter got so out of hand and the children go so destructive with their thoughts and imaginations about sexuality gone haywire, that the boy’s parents were summoned by the headmistress and informed them, that they were to find admission elsewhere for the following academic year, since their boy had no moral principles. Yes, it really happened that way. From time to time I’d see the boy, but there is something painful about the image of a 10 year old boy who looks away in embarrassment and shame every time he crosses paths with his best friend who just so happens to be of the opposite sex. Of course there are justifications – it was a small town, people were narrow minded…cultural aspects….whatever!! I often wonder where that boy is and what his idea about man-woman relationships are now. How bad was the damage to his young mind and how many such boys are there?

Almost 20 years have passed since that time. And I still endure such despicable behaviour. A great deal of imposition in the name of morals and propriety, irrational conclusions about my behaviour and personality, unfounded accusations about my intent or language or anything for that matter! One would expect that things will change with time. Each incident is as unoriginal and nasty as the other.

A few months ago I wrote a fun blog portraying a certain scene with a few of the bloggers. I had imagined one of the bloggers to be a man in his 40s and had always associated him with Anthony Hopkins in Howard’s End or better yet, Remains of the Day, and so proceeded to characterize him and portray a certain situation that resulted in fun and laughter and a good time for all and sundry in Blogland. There was one lady who seemed very interested in verifying something and once that was done, she seemed to be satisfied. A few days later, I received a long angry mail from an irate Mrs. Anthony Hopkins. She seemed to be very imaginative and was extremely skilled in the categories of embellishments and drama. After the attempt at predictably crude association with Mr. Hopkins, she then proceeded to dissect me and my blogs, comments, mails and even the choice of bloggers on my network. She seemed to have a problem with every word I typed, every move I made and who I chose to interact with as well.

Baffled and disturbed, by her choice of words & content, as well as the detail with she had studied everything concerning me, I tried to explain myself in a mail, but to no avail. Taking into consideration her condition (she was pregnant and due in a couple of months), and not wanting to create further strife between them, I just let the matter go and blocked her id. I wrote off her ranting to pregnancy related hormones and stress.

Eventually Mr. Hopkins sent me a 2 line apology and I accepted it. I forgot about the incident in no time. So much so, that I forgot that I was not permitted to comment on Anthony Hopkins’s blog…and so, after a while when after having forgotten, left a comment, all hell broke loose. Needless to say, I heard from her again…and this time, it was even more outrageous because it was on a public forum. She smugly made a statement, a request, as she called it and withdrew without an explanation. When people started asking me who this woman was and what she was talking about, I refused to comment, with the intention of protecting her identity and her husband’s reputation. It took a few minutes to register that I did not have to do that, that it really was her business if she wanted to publicly humiliate herself and her husband and that I had nothing to be embarrassed about.

The fact that I let go of the first incident without any brouhaha must have given her the impression that I can be bullied. I am aware that she constantly watches my blogspace. Anthony Hopkins for his part has chosen to go ostrich and keep his peace and silence. He might have his own opinions about what happened, but then, he endorsed her behaviour with his silence. Attitudes like his are an entirely different subject to worry about…

One blogger wrote me back with encouragement and he said, ‘this is bizarre’. Another was furious enough to make plans to give the woman the same sort of treatment. My husband wanted to mail them both back with a piece of his mind…..as did a couple of other buddies of mine. What exciting times!!

Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way naïve, I know all the devious little and not so little things that even ‘good & decent’’ people are capable of. Most people also know that I try and believe the best about everyone around me and give them chances even if they’ve wronged me. Life has taught me well not to pass hasty judgments on people inspite of their actions towards me. But this one time…I have lost faith and patience. I have tired myself from being aware and forgiving of the immaturity and impertinence of hopelessly insecure men and women like these!!

I thought I was over it, but evidently I am not. The phenomena, the behaviour, the people – their attitudes, still leave me indignant, flummoxed. The more I watch people like this rave and rant, the more I see into their corrupt souls. Hearts which are devoid of innocence, minds which can only conjure up the worst of situations. It is people like this that try to find ugliness where none exists, and after a certain point of time, they start believing it exists. They are incapable of joy in their spirits – there always is some nagging thought crippling them.

It’s only a matter of time before I analyze their behaviour and sympathize with them and believe there must be some childhood trauma to make them as they are and forgive their folly, their immaturity and I just move on.

But this one time I am absolutely incensed. A grown up woman accusing me of having designs on her husband simply because she cannot handle her own fears and insecurities, is beyond my ability to comprehend. What makes a woman insecure in a marriage with a loving and doting husband? And how is it acceptable when an insecure woman chooses to make a public spectacle of herself and her husband, in the hope of embarrassing another woman? Is it really ok, for civilized, cultured, educated men and women who read, discuss and profess knowledge, wisdom and maturity on matters of philosophy and science to behave in such a fashion, to sit in judgment of a person they do not know? By what authority do they judge?? At just what point in their life do they become so darned self righteous?? [Questions are rhetoric!]

It’s a shame, that even among the modern and educated crème de la crème of India, there exist women who will condemn women for irrational reasons….how much have we really progressed, I wonder? And how many men and women reading this can relate to it, I wonder??

She once claimed she was a ‘very sensitive woman’….I wonder which woman is not!!

But the ultimate finale to this needlessly tortuous episode of hammy histrionics came when a certain woman blew a few kisses to another blogger. Further sleuthing revealed that the woman was the same one that was interested in the first blog I wrote with Anthony Hopkins, and the woman is the same as Mrs. Hopkins.

The base hypocrisy of it all is mildly amusing and terribly pathetic!!

Vaudeville to the very bone this has been!!

Title credit – hubbs dear. Gist of the discussion – subject for another blog…..

Flying High on Jazz and Wine....

2005-08-09T17:09:00.000-07:00

I love Jazz…and I love most things contemporary. So, its natural for me to love contemporary jazz as well!!

Just a couple of weeks ago I had checked for tickets for the Eighth Annual 98.9 Smooth Jazz Festival and the only ones available were the VIP ones at a price that seemed extravagant to me. I was a bit disappointed but determined to make earlier bookings for the following year. So we made other plans and ditched our half laid patio again.

The Blue Angels were in town for Seattle’s annual Seafair – an exciting event for this city. We were looking for a good spot to watch the air show from when 'T' my good friend called to ask if we would like to go with them for a jazz concert. It took only a moment to decide. 'T' and her husband 'I', are close pals of this guy whose music we absolutely adore!!

The concert was at a local winery a couple of miles from home. We sprawled amongst some friends on the lawn instead of choosing to sit in the VIP area on the hard plastic chairs and I am so thankful for that!! the only thing I could complain about was the scorching sun, which everyone around me seemed to be enjoying. But for me - 6 hours in the hot sun was a bit oo much. I slathered on tons of sunscreen and was determined to protect my extremely photo-senstivive skin and ignore the intolerable cruelties – the sun being one and the middle aged bikini clad dancing women with wine glasses in one hand and and spray bottles in the other hand being the other, more harsher cruelty.

The music was superb, as expected. The line up for the first day – check this out….if u are a smooth jazz lover, you are going to looove this!!

Steve Oliver - was already playing by the time we settled down. The first thing that occurred to me was ‘he sounds like Jonathan’ and the same comment was echoed by 'I'. I was able to place him the instant he started playing his ‘High Noon’. He is a very funky guitarist and vocalist combining jazz with hip-hop, latino and the blues…. He was good but he had barely begun the party…

Kim Waters - was next and he just blew my mind away!! His playing is so refined and sexy. He was so fine fine fine!! He simply needs to be heard, I don’t think I can do enough justice to his music with my gushing. I’ve been listening to his music for a long time now and it was such a treat to hear him play live. Oh…he can play the sax alright!!

Brian Culbertson - was up next and he was amazing!! A pianist/keyboardist, a trombonist, a vocalist, composer, arranger. This is a real child prodigy. Like the announcer (am not too sure who it was, sounded like Diana Rose) said, as a kid he started playing the trombone. Then he started composing. By Junior high, he was playing music that was far beyond the caliber of other kids around him, so he started playing the drums…and the piano…and the bass…and the leads…and then he started arranging. He recorded his first album all by himself, in his apartment bedroom while in college. His dad is a high school jazz band instructor and the inspiration for Brian. Like Brian said, ‘I was on dad’s band in school. But since its summer and school’s out, dad is now touring and playing with me…on my band’. Dad plays the trumpet. It was amazing to watch them play along with another talented young sax player Eric Darius who has just released his very first album. Eric is 21, still in college and he plays some good music….These are some funky musicians here!!
BTW, Brian’s his wife is an opera singer….wonder what their kids will turn out to be.
There’s more about Brian Culbertson here - and here and here.

Next up was Jazz Attack, a collaborative effort by some of my favorite artists - Rick Braun, Jonathan Butler, Richard Elliot and Peter White.

Awesome is an understatement….Peter White was superb and Jonathan as usual kicked some major ass!! Rick Braun never ceases to please the crowd with his charm and talent, but this time, it was Richard Elliot who took the cake!! You’ve simply got to listen to Metro Blue to know what I mean… There’s more here.

Later after the concert was over, we went by to say hi to the ‘guys’. We got some CDs signed for a friend, and that was a very new experience for us – standing in line for an autograph. Neither of us are the kinds of people to go gaga over artists and clamour for their hands to kiss and worship. It was nice to shake their hands and be formally introduced to them though. Later on we sat inside with Jonathan while 'T' tried to catch up with him in the few moments they had before his ride to the hotel. We decided to hook up with him at his hotel for dinner. Some 15 mins after he went ahead we decided he needed his rest more than we needed to talk. I am sure he was very thankful, but seriously, that felt nice…I don’t think I’d have been very comfortable making conversation with one of my favorite jazz artists while he looks just about ready to drop from exhaustion. Maybe next year, if he can stand a while longer... :-)

We ended the night rather late that night over burgers and conversation at Red Robins….and the following morning, we went back to see the blue angels.

The formations and stunts that the Blue Angels put up were tight and brilliant!! It was an awesome experience…although Bangaloreans will agree that the Aero India Show that the Indian Air Force puts up once every two years is way more exciting. The deafening roar is what I love the most….someday I hope to take a spin. Another thing to do before I die…

Photography was not permitted at the concert. And the few pictures I took at the Air Show – the less said about it, the better, but still I brave the critics and have put up a few…!!

Now for those of you folks who think Jazz is hotel lobby or elevator music, listen to the samples in the sites and get educated!!

[the second day at the concert had David Lanz, Norman Brown, Peabo Bryson, Brenda Russell, Everette Harp and Fourplay. I love Norman Brown and hopefully he’ll play next year. It’s a real shame about Peabo Bryson and his problems with the IRS….]

What a great weekend that was!!

Yellow Brick Road....

2005-08-08T21:34:00.000-07:00

Aug 5th 2005

Someone asked me today if I had any regrets.
I said I had some.

I don’t dwell on what could have been. But I do wonder if I could have lived that life. I had prepared for myself a yellow brick road to follow. But God had other plans for me and my yellow brick road. We went on a long detour, Him and me, on another byway. I am thankful for the detour….But just when I was getting used to that byway, he dropped me back on my old road and asked me to walk by myself. No Toto to keep me company, no ruby slippers to click, no Tin man, Lion or Scarecrow. Just me and the yellow brick road ahead…

They say the first step is always the hardest….my feet are getting numb.

Anetra's Yellow Brick Road Blog....

Are u awake???

2005-08-05T13:36:00.000-07:00

After a long hard day everyone wants to relax. Hear and read about funny things. Things which lighten the burden….etc etc. No one really wants to see hard hitting pictures or see the painful news about famine and pestilence, do they? And those that do want to be aware of the world around them find themselves helpless.

Life is hard. I know, I understand. Bills to pay, children to care for, in laws to please, spouses to live with….demanding bosses, rising inflation, tough competition everywhere…regardless of where in the world you are, life is hard. Some places it is harder….

It was sometime in Dec that the red flag was raised for Niger.
Niger certainly has our attention now…or does it??

I am not asking u to donate your money or time or any such thing, that really is your business….I just ask that you are aware. That when you pray for your promotion and exams, say a little prayer for the people of Africa as well. Don’t doom them and write them off….

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/4695355.stm

http://www.cnn.com/CNN/Programs/anderson.cooper.360/

http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/emergency/NE_FOO.htm

http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0801/p01s02-woaf.html

It’s easy to think of Niger as yet another African famine and ignore it. The figures you see are not mere statistics, they are people…..

Don’t choose to be blind!!

Live Strong!!

2005-08-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, most children I knew rode their bicycles to school. I never did ride to school, we were too far and there was too much traffic to go through…that’s what my parents told me.

Everyday on the way to school, I’d drive past my schoolmates riding their bikes. The lake on one side with the mist rising above it, the university campus sprawled on the other side with its colourful buildings, I’d look past the many bikers and spot the rows of yellow and purple Jacarandas, count the giant Gulmohar trees on the road to see if any were missing and wave at my classmates, hoping that some day I’d be able to ride with them. When I got back home from school, I’d ride around in my neighbourhood and pedal to my heart’s content. But all that was many many moons ago when I was a pesky little girl.

This summer I started bicycling again. I was initially a little apprehensive and thought I might have forgotten how to ride. But once the helmet was strapped and I was on the bike, it was almost like I was a whole new person. The first time I went cycling this summer, my husband went into mild shock seeing me whizz past with a broad grin on my face, not one bit uncertain about my absolute love for the sport. He still grins every time he seems me ride.

There’s something liberating about riding a bike. The absence of a motor to run it makes it more charming, the absence of gas fumes makes the air a bit more breathable, makes me feel good. It’s not as slow as walking; it’s not as boring as driving a car and it’s a great exercise!!

Every evening I mount my bike and feel the breeze in my face, I am filled with a sense of well being. Racing down the hill from my home is always an exhilarating start to our little trips and climbing the same hill while riding back home is the most painful mountain to go over. Sometimes I hurt beyond description trying to overcome obstacles and reach goals. But most times I ride like the wind!! I am always free when I am riding.

The very first time we went biking this year, we rode almost 13 miles to our friend’s house, surprising even ourselves. That inspired their 8 year old son who dragged his dad to ride with him to our house another day. And that’s what I see happening with bikers and their biking…one inspires the other.

And who can be a better inspiration that Lance Armstrong - Lancey the strong armed man!! It’s not surprising at all that I along with the entire biking world think of him when it becomes hard to push the pedal. His eyes hold new definitions of pain and determination. He is a constant companion to thousands of people world wide. I have only the deepest respect and admiration for this man, his courage and his dream. And it sure helps that he is so darned cute!! :-p

I am not a competition biker and I don’t want to be one. Neither do I have extra-ordinary aspirations of winning The Nobel prize and such. My desires are many and my life will be my own. But, when on a bike, I am possessed willingly by the live-strong virus. And all I really want is to be able to say I lived my life full and well!!

Indeed, there is only one way to live and that is to Live Strong!!

Try cycling…Its good for you!!

Live Strong!!

A Trip to the Dacha - II

2005-08-01T21:47:00.000-07:00

Part I is here....

The next morning it drizzled a bit. Just the kind of weather to enjoy your morning cuppa joe by. It also gave me the perfect opportunity to see the property and take in the views.

The dacha sits on Hood Canal, in the Kitsap Peninsula, flanked by the Olympic National Park and the Puget Sound – the mountains and forests on one side, the ocean on the other. Pretty as a postcard!!

The View

A Rusty Ramp...

There were some chores to do and after that we went down to the rocky beach to see what the tide had brought ashore. Alisa, our young hostess showed me amazing stuff – bright pink and purple starfish, oysters, clams, crabs, weeds and reeds, small caves and lagoons.

The beach

Purple starfish - Picture taken by Hubbs

Purple starfish - Picture taken by Hubbs

Sea weeds - Picture taken bu Hubbs

Clams growing on a rope

Kelp - Picture taken by Hubbs

The tide pools were filled with teeny tiny crabs the size of a quarter of a fingernail. Alisa could spot them amidst shells and rocks. She taught me to differentiate between the male and the female crabs and gave me important lessons in marine biology.

The colourful belly of a crab

A starfish peelign itself off a rock to escape the mid-day sun...

The most amazing things to watch were the barnacles…there were millions of barnacles literally. And I got a clue as why they are blistering barnacles. It was not an easy place to walk around like the sea shores that I am more accustomed to. This was a very rocky place with extremely slippery reeds all over and sharp oysters and barnacles threatening to pierce our bodies…its quite natural that we were very careful, but yet, I slipped a couple of times. We also went oyster hunting and ‘Y’ baked the oysters with Russian cheese.

Alisa showing me open barnacles

We took drives to some scenic spot through the Hamma Hamma Forest, and sang Humma Humma for our friends. This picture was taken at one such spot...If you look carefully, you can spot Mt. Rainier among the clouds. And just down below, past all the water you can see Seattle. On a very clear day, you can see the Space Needle. Stunning views!!

Spot Mt. Rainier...

We then hiked to Murhut Falls in Duckabush. It was a great hike…I would say intermediate. We chose to be the last ones the trail and that gave us the opportunity to go at our own pace and admire the vegetation around and take pictures. There was this one spot when I told hubbs to go ahead and deliberately stopped to hear the silence of the forest. It was then that I noticed berry bushes all around me. Remember the bushes with red berries in The Village?? That is exactly how it looked…all around me, I saw bright red berries…and the silence was so eerie!! It was brilliant!! I took a few pictures and ran, lest ‘those that we do now speak of’ came for me!!

Murhut Falls

Very Berry eerie.....

The next evening we hiked to Dosewallips Falls. Another pretty waterfall…but I did not take my camera along. I regret it, but there will be more opportunities!!

Back at the Dacha, I made a quick egg curry and pulao and snuck my way to our friend’s hearts. My hubbs had already made his famous omelettes for them and they were mighty pleased with this cooking Indian couple. Lunch and dinner conversations were centered around culture and Raj Kapoor and Bollywood and life in The Soviet Union, all well flavoured by delicious food and divinely delicious Sangria.

We were the last to leave for the city. We sat on the deck with tea and cookies taking in the view one last time when we had a visitor – His name is Gavrushka and he is the friendly neighbourhood seal. Gavrushka comes by and says hello whenever our friends are there and he had been eluding us the entire time. All our melodious calls - Gaavrooooshhkya.... went unheard by the seal and just when we have given up, he turned up…belly up and smiling happily!! I believe they spotted 3 orcas a few weeks ago…Isn’t it a blessing to be able to just go out to your deck and see orcas and whales and seals and such….!!

Our hearts were full of peace and joy after this weekend!! I think our host the Dachnik, put it perfectly when he raised a toast the first night we spent there. He said, ‘Here’s to the Dacha where a few Jews from Russia meet a couple of Indians’. And we had said 'Le' Chaim'....

Again I say….Le’ Chaim!!

A trip to the Dacha - I

2005-07-29T10:03:00.000-07:00

Since we work so hard on our yard over most weekends and the elements have been blessing us mercilessly, sapping every bit of moisture from the dirt that we are made of, we decided to take a break. So we left our unfinished projects and made for the water. We had been invited to go to a friend’s vacation house.

Our friends wanted to pamper us Russian style (somewhat similar to desi style) and even insisted on driving us there themselves. That seemed perfect to us, except we could not leave as planned at 2.00 pm on Friday. After re-arranging the delicate schedules of the various worker bees involved, I, the queen bee was left to water the lawn before we left. The friendly neighbourhood weatherman did say we were going to get some sprinkles, but I was not going to rely on his word. See, for the time being, our baby grass is our baby!!

Now you may be accustomed to seeing men waiting endlessly for the women to get ready and leave. But, most times in our case, I am the one that’s ready and tapping my feet impatiently while the hunk at home takes all the time he needs. And this just happened to be one such time!! In the time it took for my darling to shave, shower and put on some clean clothes, I finished reading a chapter in my book, watered a few houseplants, watched Gilmore Girls, paced the living room wondering what to do, made a couple of phone calls, paced the kitchen wondering how long he would take and almost fell asleep out of boredom. Then I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to paint my toenails. So I leisurely selected the colour of the week and spent the next 10 minutes taking off a certain colour only to paint it a similar shade again. Aaaah vanity!! FYI, I am not vain…I was talking about the Mister!! Bah!!

So then, we eventually found ourselves at our friend’s place, spent another 20 minutes reloading their car with our stuff, said goodbyes to some of their family that was staying back and hit the road!! Off we went with our friends Y & I and their 10 year old daughter Alisa. Thanks to the weekend traffic it only took us double the usual time to reach downtown Seattle. And then we spent the next hour and a half inching slowly towards the ferry…we traveled about half a mile in those 90 minutes. Another 20 minute wait once we got to the dock and finally the ferry tooted to announce it was headed towards Bainbridge Island. Incidentally, Bainbridge has been voted as the 2nd best place to live in the country. It’s a quaint little island offering a quiet life with cute art shops and galleries and wonderful views all around the island.

It was an annoying irony that it took us over 2 and half hours to reach the ferry and the ferry ride was only half an hour. It was over and done with, a bit too quickly for my liking…I love ferries. I have been on a few boats, but the ferry to Bainbridge is something else altogether.

The wind was murderous outside. Our coffees were sloshing about in their cups like the ocean around us was being sloshed about by the ferry’s steady advance. It gave a whole new meaning to ‘a storm in a tea cup’ or a coffee cup in this case. I absolutely love standing in the front watching the wake, bent over the railing, while shivering in the frightful cold with my hands about my body, smelling the salt and sea, breathing the icy air that chills my insides, with the wind howling about me freezing my ears and the sharp sun thawing and burning the frozen ears and making me squint and grin, all of it creating the paradox that makes Seattle what it is.

But the best part is when I lift my eyes and turn around and see the seagulls all around the boat. That is a sight one does not get to see unless on a ferry or a similar large vessel. They are like outriders, gliding alongside the boat without flapping their wings. Ensuring we are safe, announcing our arrival, adding a regal touch to something ordinary. Sometimes, it makes me feel like the boat is held together by strings which the seagulls have in their beaks and they are all carrying us through the skies to some new destination… It reminds me of a psalm, “For He shall give His angels charge over you to keep you in all your ways, in their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against the stone….” I wonder if angels carry us like those seagulls carry the ferry….oh well!! You know me and my imaginations…but it is a very nice feeling I get, a feeling of absolute peace and a desire to be wrapped in a warm blanket!!

We had to drive through Bainbridge Island and into the Olympic National Forest to reach our destination. After about 2 hours we reached ‘Artek’ the dacha, named after Artek - the famous Soviet Camp. A dacha is a Russian vacation cottage... Here's the wiki version.

After saying hello to the other families that were there (3 families from Moldovia and 1 family from Uzbekistan, all of them Russian speaking) we found our room, settled in, ate dinner and saw the most wonderful moonscape from the newly built deck outside. My attempts to take moon pictures failed yet again and after a while I gave up and enjoyed my tea instead. The moon was full, looked like a blob of fresh butter, that same slight cream colour and she was making a bold statement that night. The reflection on the water was breathtaking!! I knew this was going to be a wonderful weekend and I could barely wait for morning.

Concert in the Park

2005-07-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

What can be better than a music concert in a lovely park on a warm summer midweek evening? Every week this couple of months, there will be a concert at a park in my hood. And we decided we’d go at the last minute. After hunting around for almost 15 mins for a parking spot, and thinking aloud about having just walked to the park instead of driving, for the 20th odd time, we managed to find a place.

The park seemed pretty crowded and there were so many children! After finding ourselves a nice spot behind a pretty girl with her dog, I left hubbs to enjoy the view and went off with my camera to another corner. The music was unimpressive. There is no other way to describe it…it was African Rhythms and it was no different from any other African music I have heard. But the crowd went along and danced a bit and showed appreciation for the artists.

It was fun though to watch the kids and adults play and dance. The dogs were all happily wagging tails and begging to be let loose to play with the other dogs. There were a couple of tents under which hotdogs and cheesy unappetizing Papa John’s Pizza were being grilled. Papa’s and Mama’s chased little ‘uns and tossed them up in the air, tickled them silly and threw Frisbees and balls. There were many people sprawled on the grass and some people sitting in camping chairs. I never understood why people don’t sit on the grass…its so much more fun than sitting in a camping chair!!

And somewhere along the edge, Void hung out with his little nephew, watching me and hubbs from afar. After much deliberation and a careful assessment of Hubb’s arms, he decided to ‘A’void us and just spy on us instead. After I was done taking pictures, we got bored and walked back to the parking lot talking animatedly about some thing. We passed a couple of desi guys with orange shirts, wonder if void was one of them…

Of course, all this happened last week and Void is absconding since the confrontation and the gentle suggestion of a friendly nudge by way of using my foot against his backside…or an elbow in the ribs perhaps!!

Oh well, Void or ‘A’void…he is The Void!! Welcome to Seattle Buddy!! [Sadly taking down banners and decorations from the party hall]

The pictures are here...enjoy!!!

Same Difference??

2005-07-10T11:36:00.000-07:00

Immie’s blog got me thinking!! I myself have always stood out like a sore thumb. I never wanted to belong or conform to anything, ever. Perhaps my rebelliousness was fuelled by the unconventional parenting I had. Perhaps it was the exposure I was given so early in life. Whatever the impetus was, I became increasingly difficult for the uncles and aunties and cousins and peers around me. After a while I realized that I was actually high on their shock & indignation!! I was not being different to get attention; mercifully I never needed that sort of validation. But I did enjoy dominating their thoughts with my eccentric, ambitious and often unacceptable behaviour!! I could not understand the need for conformity and my school & college teachers will stand witness to that. I was a wild child and proud of it too!! I recollect my grandfather often remark, ‘how are we going to tame this one!!’

And then I got married. Even my marriage and the circumstances I got married in were different. The man I married was another non-conformist. It was almost like I drove the last nail in the coffin as far as my extended family was concerned, except things started changing. The first 2 years of my marriage were extremely hard ones…and to cope with the struggles, for the first time in my life I started conforming….to tradition, custom, mannerisms, behaviour…It was so subtle and I never realized what was happening.
Until one day a cousin said that marriage had changed me for the better. Of course it was true and I was glad for it. But as I watched him repeat those words a second time, it hit me with painful force!! I was now tame!!

A great deal of introspection and tough questioning brought me to an understanding that as happy and content I seemed to be, I was hurting and restless within. I was so lost and devastated!! See, what I did not understand then, was that it was my innate differentness that made me who I am – complete with strength, ability and all other skills needed for my life. To get rid of that would be like locking me up in a prison of dull convention to die a slow, meaningless even boring death! If I removed the differentness, I would loose all the skills I needed to live life.

I am thankful that I noticed my straying on to the beaten path before I encountered some serious damage!! Now I can consciously steer myself to the wild unused path and celebrate me…regardless of whether I have company or not!

When I see people who live life in set patterns I am in awe of them. I have tremendous respect for those cousins & friends who are wives, mothers and want no more of life. From my perspective, it takes tremendous discipline and contentedness to be ‘normal’. Of course, from their perspective, I might seem like the adventurous, sometimes enviable one. Neither way of life is easy.

Everyone fears that which is different. In that sense, every body is similar. While fear (of the unconventional or the conventional, depending on which side of the fence u are on) drives a person to stay away from those that are different, it is maturity and wisdom that induces a certain balance in our thinking. It makes everyone more accepting and open minded. It’s a lot easier to give in to the vagaries of bitterness and cynicism. And it takes twice as much courage, not to…

But all said and done, each person likes to think they are different in some way; everyone wants to be special or unique in some way. To me, that is the same difference!!

Kya Hain Yahaan?

2005-07-08T20:19:00.000-07:00

This year by far has been the most rewarding of all for the Indian movie-music lover in me. Just halfway thru the year and we have yet another melody packed movie – Yahaan - all set to release on the 22nd of July. What’s impressive is that Yahaan has already been chosen to be part of a selection of Indian films being shown at the Osian - Cinefan Festival of Asian Cinema.

The main plot of the movie itself does not have me terribly interested. From the few reviews that I have read so far, it seems like a regular old love story set in war torn Kashmir. The central theme seems to be about a local pahaadi girl (albeit in this movie the pahaadi is modern) falling in love with a visitor/tourist and in this case an army officer. I can trace this plot all the way back to Madhumita and a whole bunch of similar stories! The cast includes Jimmy Shergil the cutie and a Delhi debutante – Minissha Lamba. Minissha used to live in Kashmir when younger and hence is believed to have added more value to her character. We shall see about that soon!!

There are some things that have captured my attention though. The production house is Red Ice Films, a very prominent Ad agency founded by Sujit Sircar who is also the debutant director for the movie. Then there is the young Swedish cinematographer – Jakob Ihre, whose work has already been noticed in a few festivals – the Berlin Film Festival being one of them. Sujit and Ihre have already worked together in a few ads – remember the Cadbury’s cricket ad - the one with the cute girl dancing on the field in pure ecstasy – that was them.

But here’s where it gets really interesting. Breakthrough, a human rights organization that focuses primarily on women’s issues in India hired Red Ice Films in 2000, to make a music video based on the real life story of a Muslim woman named Shameem Pathan. This was Sujit’s and his Red Ice partner Gary’s very first music video. The music video was Man Ke Manjeere. The strong portrayal of Shameem’s character was done by a strong actress – Mita Vashisht, it was shot in Pushkar and the video became a major hit!!

But the other part that made this video a huge success world over was the music - Prasoon Joshi’s lyrics, Shubha Mudgal’s rendering and Shantanu Moitra’s music.

Is it any surprise then that Sujit would choose Shantanu Moitra for his very first feature film??

Shantanu Moitra has stepped into the limelight of mainstream Bollywood music with the still new Parineeta. And now he is all set to show his versatility and musical genius with Yahaan. Gulzar’s poetry and Moitra’s music complement each other perfectly to create another album that is thoroughly enjoyable.

Naam Adaa Likhna – I am tempted to call this song an AR Rahman in style and execution. It is very similar to Rahman in buildup, it starts with Shaan laying the foundation & mood, minimalistic ‘sounding’ synthesizer work that is actually well detailed, a lone chord creating a tempo, chirping birds, a gentle gush of cymbals, a steady beat that picks up and lifts the song till it soars in your senses and you start snapping your fingers and nodding your head. The smooth Sax is very cleverly tucked into the background. What I love about such songs is that the base rhythm and structure that the entire song carries within is laid bare for a wistful ending. That’s what leaves one humming the tune in his/her head while feeling feathery light and wistful. Shreya Ghoshal is easily one of the sweetest sounding singers and she has done a good job of adding romance and innocence to the song.

Aaoon to subahah jaaoon to mera naam sabah likhna
Barf pade to barf pe mera naam dua likhna

Gulzar uses words beautifully romanticizing mornings and evenings, sunrises and sunsets

Urzu Urzu Durkut – The strings that open the song are of a mandolin and they seem to open the door to a paradise with bubbling brooks and huddled sheep under tall chinar trees.
The guitar work that blends in with the children in chorus creates a carefree mood and that is what this song is about.

Chhann se bole chamak ke jab Chinaar bole
Khwaab dekha hai aankh ka khumaar bole
Khwaab chhalke to aankh se tapak ke bole
Jharna chhalke to pura aabshaar bole

I am unable to say what is more stunning – Gulzar’s lyrics, the music or Shreya’s singing. It is one of the best songs I have heard this year – excellent composition, dramatic & fluid in structure and flute work that adds to the playfulness. It’s almost like watching a river flow through ravines and bouncing off rocks, creating roaring white waterfalls yet forming calm pools in places.

Mere Chaliyan – a solo by Shreya, this is a Punjabi song, through and through. Each song in this album has one instrument featured strongly and this one has the harmonium. Although I am not a great fan of bhangra kind of music, this one is a song I’ll definitely dance to. Perhaps it’s the tiniest bit of sweet pain in the otherwise cheerful tune that makes it so soulful. The little bit of classical swaras/notes that are sung in between are completely out of place in this song.
Some foot tapping Dhol work finished the song with gusto and surprisingly I felt like I wanted more!!

The same song has been cast into the remix mould by Sameeruddin and Abhishek Arora. Even though it is not a run of the mill Bhangra remix it failed to impress me. The funkiness overpowered the romantic sweetness of the song.

Ajmer Wale Khwaja – Nizami Bandhu, the famous Qawwals have composed and rendered this song. It is slightly modernized and can be categorized as fusion. But the integrity of the Sufi style in the song has not been tampered with. The background music generates a certain tension, and the intricate classical high pitched aalaap intensifies the moment. I am certain that if this song is picturized as well as it is rendered, I will have double the goose bumps to deal with.
Kahoon Kaise Sakhi – Also by the Nizami Brothers, this is a love song. There is some splendid guitar, drums that makes this emotion filled song intensely passionate at times. It is a brilliant piece of fusion. This is a perfect example where a classical piece is enhanced by blending it with another style of music. While it might seem easy to do, it is easier to mess it up. It takes a great deal of respect and understanding on part of the musicians and composers towards one another and their respective styles of music, to create a synchronized and tasteful blend - a Jugal-Bandi of sorts. I am in complete awe of this new genre of fusion of classical and contemporary Indian music.

The music for both the qawaali numbers are by Sameeruddin and Abhishek Arora. The background score for the movie is also done by them.

The other remix this duo has made is for the first song Naam Adaa Likhna. This is an unbelievably smart treatment that brings an entirely different perspective to the same sweet song. The original lyrics are interspersed with English lyrics and that liberates the song almost like it just received a gallon of Gatorade. For a disco deewaani like me, the delicate touch of retro music indicates that disco is back!! I must agree with the other critics this is a superb remix!

The album is finished with the Yahaan Theme. The Santoor, Mandolin, Flute, Dhafli like percussion and a soulful Tara create a rather short fusion masterpiece of a background theme for this soundtrack.

All in all a very impressive album and exciting as well!! It is a real treat to hear good, original and innovative music in popular Bollywood cinema. This kind of newness is one I have longed for, for a long time!! And it’s only just begun......

My Birthday!!

2005-06-30T10:12:00.000-07:00

I turned 28 on the 28th of June. It is with a mild sense of loss that I note that this phenomenon will happen only once in my lifetime, as in anyone’s life. After all, I have never before been 28 on the 28th and cannot hope to be 29 on the 29th or 40 on the 40th, can I?

As with most things in life, this birthday came with a sense of impermanence and the lack of much needed June sunshine. And in the longest time that I can remember, I felt at peace while looking back at my life. No I did not lament that I was 28 already, nor did I feel miserable about the few greys and silvers on my crazy head. I felt thankful to have lived the life I have and learnt the things I have in these past 28 years. And what an adventure I have lived!!

And to celebrate me and another friend with a birthday in the same week, my girlfriends threw me a little party last Saturday. The friend that baked my fabulous ginger cake with caramel frosting had stuck a magic candle on it and I cannot recollect a time in my life when blowing out a candle was harder. If I did not count the year old baby in our midst, I was the youngest in our party. As we drank endless cups of tea and ate cake and many other treats, we joked and talked, laughed and bonded…For a change, it felt nice to be younger than my friends.

The good morrow of 28th had me answering phone calls for most of the day. We do our gifts at midnight, so very late to bed and very early to rise left Chay grumpy, groggy and tired. I spoke with my parents, and in laws and uncles and aunts and friends. As I was telling one friend, I can only imagine how celebrities must live their lives, receiving calls all the time. Nonetheless, I felt so loved and enjoyed the attention, gifts and wishes!!

Adding to all the excitement was Fizzo’s blog on DSS. Never before have I had such a scrawl written for me. And for all the wishes and thoughts that my blogger buds have toward me, I am truly touched!! Hubbs had a great time reading Fizzo’s blog and was quite amused. (If I ever let the 2 of them meet, I know I will be had from dinner. Fizzo’s sawing err writing and my hubb’s stash of stories, which by the way is contributed to heavily by my mom…boy o boy!! They’d make a deadly combo!!)

But the sweetest, most unexpected call came from a dear friend that I am still hoping to see. Our very own Frenjz (for those of you who dont know her, she’s from Sulls…who isn’t?…and she is a newbie at DSS and she has already been recruited into the YAYA Club by who else but yours faithfully) …I had never spoken with her and am yet to meet her even though we are in the same neighbourhood. As she identified herself, I could barely contain my surprise and excitement…she kept her call sooper short insisting that she did not want to disturb my time with hubbs who happened to be working from home. I just felt so thankful for having heard her sweet voice and truly, very touched!! Thanks again Frenjzie girl!!!

The evening was a simple dinner and a movie. I had to spice it up just a tad by wearing a saree. Well, I am constantly looking for occasions to wear one, so this just seemed perfect. Since I was a wee bit homesick, the choice of food was Indian and a new place we had not been to. My husband is veggie and I am not. My whole grilled trout looked good enough and as I started digging in, my husband asked me, “Do fish have tongues?” Could there have been a more perfect dinner conversation? After a while he peered into the fish’s open mouth and said, “If you don’t mind, please turn your fish around. Its mouth smells bad”

So after I was done eating the trout with a bad breath, we went for a movie. For those of you who have not read any of my blogs, our very first date was to watch the digital version of Star Wars. Well, being a great George Lucas fan, I wanted to see it and he had no idea what it was about. So, he slept through out the movie. We went to watch Empire Strikes Back when that was released and again hubbs slept thru’ it. And then there was Return of the Jedi….he slept again!! So after that I thought I learnt my lesson and so did not raise the topic of Star Wars this time. But he wanted to take me and he was so darned insistent. After a lot of arguing, I finally consented to the movie and so that was what we watched!! The theatre was completely empty, so he said, “Well what do you know, it seems like I booked the whole theatre for you.” And what surprises! Not only did Hubbs stay awake, but he actually said he liked the picture!! While my head was hurting from the excessive light saber action, he was beaming like young Anakin in one of his races.

The drive back home seemed so fast, probably because the roads were empty. As we drove past the lakes and up the hill to my home and left behind the twinkling city lights and starry skies, we spotted deer and other small animals. That’s what I most love about driving around my home at night, I get to see deer and some other wildlife. A few days back there was a bear around the neighbourhood giving people a fright. Glad to not have encountered the bear.

Yet another year gone, to accommodate yet another dream!!
It’s been a happy birthday to me!! Indeed a very happy birthday!!

Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi - My review!!

2005-06-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

The script is strong and impacting!! Sudhir Mishra blends a passion for social causes with the throbbing revolutionary idealism of youth and pride powerfully, wrapping it all in a well paced story that is focused on the intricacy of relationships and imagery of emotion. The oppression and corruption along with police brutality and the total disregard for life is fierce and raw, but not needlessly grisly. The tension is real and it is true.

Shantanu Moitra’s music is haunting and superb!! This is a Pritish Nandy production. The last Pritish Nandy Picture I saw was Chameli and that was also directed by Sudhir Mishra. I am very impressed with both mvoies !!

If I were to summarize Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi in one word – Brilliant!!!

The backdrop is the period of emergency that India went through in the 70s. The story is a simple love triangle, complicated by simpler desires and naked reality. The three protagonists are allegoric of the turbulence and travails of the time and space in India’s modern history in which this story is set in. This movie will have you at the edge of your seat within the first 5 minutes – I guarantee you that!!

The opening frame is one of Pt. Nehru delivering the ‘tryst of destiny’ speech. The 58 year old black & white clipping and the strong articulate voice stunned me into silent reverence and as the rapturous applause that followed one of the most famous declarations of freedom in the world starts to fade out, the movie begins. Sidharth – one of the three protagonists says Nehru was wrong in saying that the world was asleep at midnight. His words left me with emotions that tugged and pulled. I had to start watching the movie from the start again. At first he sounds like a kid who is intent on being pedantic and childish, but the passion for radical change is unmistakable. He goes on to describe the filth that has taken over the political system in India and you begin to hear familiar but subdued emotions of pain, indignation and anger that have crossed the heart of every Indian youth at one time or the other – all this against the backdrop of blood, gore and absolute mayhem.

I enjoyed the way each of the characters is introduced. They introduce themselves with a narration, in a letter to another character. The cross chemistry is instantly felt. The letters are used to communicate more than circumstances through out the movie…and that makes it more interesting. No nonsense letters. Strong, passionate, purposeful…just like each of the characters.

The fact that the movie has dialogues in both Hindi as well as English makes a huge difference. Its about time too - a healthy dose of realism makes it easy to relate to the entire story and theme.

KayKay Menon is Sidharth Tyabji. He has done a fabulous job as a hot blooded Marxist torn between the love of his ideals and the love of a woman. His idealistic rebelliousness and his realistic struggles to make a difference, cause you to admire him. As he matures into a Naxalite, you watch a rich brat opting for the life of an insurgent on the run, in pursuit of ideals and revolution, leaving you hopeful and certain. The dogged determination to bring about reform will inflame the sleeping radical in you, if ever there was one.

The character is sketched to give the impression of being the forerunner for the entire movie, but by the end of it, the weathering and maturity that life induces is amply evident. You are left feeling as broken in spirit as Sidharth is. Awe was definitely not an emotion I felt for Sidharth. His desperate leftist propaganda, its eventual failure and the futility of his efforts, the devastating results it brings about, self condemnation, his self-centeredness and guilt leave you feeling miserable and sorry. In many ways he is the epitome of the strife and angst of the pre-emergency days.

Chitrangadha Singh is stunning and beautiful as Geeta. There are more than a couple of times in the movie when you will be reminded of Smita Patil. This is one intense actress!! I have not felt so strongly towards any actress since Smita Patil. But the resemblance is not just in the way she looks, but also the intensity and the subtlety with which she acts. She has managed to bring life to this character with an array of unspoken emotions and strong expressions. As a young woman in love, as a wife who is not in love, as a woman who is torn between the loyalty of a wife and the loyalty of a lover, as a young mother and as a social activist who is drawn to the mire of illiteracy and ignorance with flickering hope, as a desperate woman asking the love she rejected for huge favours, humbled and broken, this character will leave you gasping.

Geeta steps into Sidharth’s world out of uninhibited love and her own need to stay by his side. But with time, she invests so much of her spirit and soul into the arid soil of Bhojpur, that even after devastating and traumatic situations, she decides to stay on and continue her toil. And amidst all the trauma and loss she discovers herself and her purpose. Poignant and remarkable character…perfect portrayal!!

The commonality between Geeta and Sidharth is in their inability to relate to their cultures. Sidharth is born to a Muslim judge and a Bengali mother and knows neither language. Geeta is brought up in London and has lived in Delhi briefly. While Sidharth leaves his father’s palatial house and the luxuries therein adapting to life on the run, Geeta marries someone else but continues seeing Sidharth, eventually leaving her loving husband and a comfortable life. They go into Bihar to bring about a revolution – the sheer honesty and fortitude of two passionate bright youngsters fighting an ancient system of corruption and bureaucracy is appalling and frightening.

Roshan Ahuja has done a superb job as Vikram Malhotra. He acts with total ease! He goes from being a silent observer, to an ambitious risk taker, to a cocky-sure player, to a jealous and heartbroken lover, to an incensed and concerned son, to finally a frustrated man who is willing to do anything for the sake of his one love and her one love. How he rises to fame…and how the mighty fall! He loses everything but eventually finds the one thing that he sought.

This is an average Joe that charms his way to your heart. It’s easy to relate to this character, his accomplishments and goals, the way he thinks and his priorities. Amidst idealists and on fire wannabe Naxals he seems like a boring misfit with no guts. And amidst bigwigs and socialites he seems like an intense spark of intelligence and foresight. He is the quintessential idiosyncrasy that brings interest and drama to any story, yet manages to remain in the background. The emotions Vikram goes through are so painful and disturbing, especially towards the end.

The other actor in the movie that I enjoyed watching was Ram Kumar playing the character of Arun, Geeta’s alcoholic IAS officer husband. He has a George Clooney kind of a smile and charm that is wrapped in crazy love for his wife Geeta. Just when you have forgotten he was part of the picture, he is re-introduced briefly and softly!! He is another actor I will keep my eyes open for.

There is a very brief portrayal of Geeta’s family, a Telugu speaking joint family in the heart of Delhi. And it is the perfect portrayal of the traditional household with a modern mindset. The ease with which this family scene is blended into the rest of the picture is lovely!! Other scenes I enjoyed were - those of Vikram and Geetha when he brings her a bottle of wine to celebrate her homecoming, only to be told that she is determined to go back. Another scene was of Sidharth’s father - aged and concerned, asking an old colleague for a favour and turned away diplomatically. Vikram visiting his father at the prison….oh there are so many…

I am definitely rooting for this picture, knowing full well that only a certain cross section of the Indian audience will be able appreciate it. This is one of the 6 Indian movies to be showcased at the Berlin Film Festival. I am certain more accolades and appreciation will flow in from the foreign shores.

As the end credits rolled on the screen I sat overwhelmed with emotion. I did not cry as I would normally have, instead I sat, pondering the ramifications of wasted talent and potential, of unrequited love and unfinished stories, wondering how many such tales are lying untold, undiscovered – Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi – indeed, thousands of such desires….

Silence sil vous plait!!

2005-06-03T09:59:00.000-07:00

I saw a neat little café called ‘Silence sil vous plait!’ and as I got a whiff of roasting coffee beans, I smiled at thoughts that popped like bubbles over my head. I took them all in, along with the comforting aroma of beans and memories of youth.

Silence sil vous plait!! The shrill voice of my French teacher still echoes through the many still moments that dot the memories of my numb and sometimes aching mind. And there’d be such silence all around me!! The same silence through the years has followed me and been my sole companion through every waking moment of my life. It reverberates through every fabric of my being, bouncing off the walls of my mind, like I were a hollow pot. I sometimes talk incessantly and at other times, shut up like a clam! Needless to say, everyone around me finds it more confusing than my ideas and I think that’s a good thing. But through it all, the private quiescence of my mind stays faithful. As Confucius said, “Silence is the true friend that never betrays."

There have been so many moments of stillness in my life, when I have experienced sheer joy – unexplainable euphoria! Though fewer in number, these silent moments sometimes end with music and dance for me. I get so ecstatic, so completely elated and rapturous, that I cannot allow silence to prevail anymore. These same moments more often become a blanket of languid ease and tranquil satisfaction that I am content to just bask in, enjoy the stillness…the peace…the calm.

And then, there are silent moments of abject desolation – when the silence is so loud that you can hear it scream your brains out!! The silence is so fiercely violent that it hurts you even to sense it. Acknowledging that you know such a silence intimately is like willing to be locked in a lofty tower and agreeing for the key to be thrown into the deepest of seas. Such violent silence is what drives so many brilliant minds to the perilous edge of sanity. So much so that one does not even know reality from fantasy anymore. It’s a frightening thought that I tread upon the picket fences of such cruel isolation so often, so willingly, so nonchalantly.

It always speaks to you – silence, if you only listen carefully enough. If you quicken your intuitive percipience, but manage to keep your mind and body still, you can hear so many precious things in your spirit. Answers to questions, keys & codes, connecting links, direction in times of confusion…….its my belief that God meets with you & your needs in those moments! But how does one recognize His voice?? That continues to remain a mystery.

It is all so tricky. For one to hear his/her own heart, one needs to be completely still. But for the quiescence to prevail, one also needs to be completely calm in the spirit. If I force it, I fall asleep. And it’s not often that I am without the many thoughts that buzz over my head. Some people meditate, others pray. Still others go in a trance like state listening to music, chanting mantras or listening to smooth talking god-men on tapes. Regardless of what you do, you can’t start thinking cognitively with reason and yet hope to hear the secrets of your heart. Your mind then gets cluttered with your own thoughts, most of which will be futile sooner or later, anyway.

I know there are others like me – whose souls come alive in silence. Still, the bundle of contradictions that I am, I am petrified of silence, inspite of the fact that I live almost entirely in its abundance! I can be in a crowded party or a bustling marketplace, or be having a conversation with a group of people and yet be engulfed in the ever-present silence of my mind. It is not emptiness, but solitude amongst people, stillness in activity, and a strange sort of detachment, my own form of control in chaos. Some call me a loner, others worry over my self imposed state of isolation. But I find myself safest here, in my own cocoon of myriad thoughts full of potential. I find these moments are so pregnant with so many possibilities and full of adventure, but I also fear such moments for they reveal the murky marshlands of my mind. At every turn there is a mystery waiting to be unraveled, a danger lurking. Once I know that an unchartered territory exists, I cannot pretend it doesn’t. Sooner or later I have to go in and face my deepest desires and fears all at once. And that to me is the most frightening thought of all. What if I see myself and I don’t like the mind, or worse, what if I am empty and hollow or warped. Or even worse, forgettable, unremarkable….!

My deepest fear is me! Yet I trek on……

Beauty & the Geek!!

2005-06-01T22:59:00.000-07:00

I just saw this new reality show on the idjit box called ‘Beauty and the Geek’. Ashton Kutcher’s the Executive Producer and that will certainly have a huge impact on the screaming flailing audiences (read that as the beauties!!) Of all the reality shows I’ve seen this one finally seemed to make sense to me!!

So, here’s a bunch of geeks who supposedly lack social skills and a bunch of bimbettes who are plain old brainless!! The balance of it all seemed a bit skewed to me…The guys are these total geeks, nerds, dorks….u know the kids they show in Hollywood movies as losers as far as proms and women are concerned. Most of the guys on the show were virgins. And that is supposed to be a big deal…these kids were all in their early 20s, and it’s supposed to be a no-no to be virgins at that age, I believe…yeah right!! I still don’t understand what’s so terrible about that. But I digress!! So the boys are the kind of people that typical school kids would stay away from for fear of ridicule but yet tease and bully. They all apparently scored 1600 on their SATs but that does not make up for the fact that these near geniuses can’t get a date. Where are the nerdy girls I wonder!?

The women..ahaan!! There’s a lingerie model, an NBA dancer, a fashion ‘expert’ and a whole bunch of other kinds of ‘fun’ gals there. The common factor between them is their lack of knowledge. One girl said, “I don’t know…like I might have an IQ like 500 or something”, all while looking cute and simpering with a perfect pout.

The theme is what was brilliant. The guys and gals are supposed to learn from each other. The guys teach the women some general knowledge and the girls teach the guys how to be social. Simple eh!! So they form teams of two and have contests. The first show was aired today and had a dance contest where the guys were expected to show off their dancing capabilities. One guy got a nose bleed at the very mention of the dance contest. I felt so sorry for him…most of the guys were just so darned nervous!!! The women did well prepping them up and coaching them, but they were battling years of baggage. Truly sad!!

The women…aaah!! What can I say!! The contest was a simple quiz. The geeks coached the beauts…but….!! Lemme try and keep this simple – and give a few examples instead of elaborating.

Q - What is the spelling of tattoo?
A – T – A – T – O – O…..
Explanation – Its tatoo right?? I mean that’s exactly how it sounds!!

Q – What is the spelling of calendar?
A – C – A – L – E – N – D – E – R
Explanation – I don’t need to know spellings. If I need it I will do a spell check….

Q – What is the state east of West Virginia?
A – errr…don’t know

Q – Who is the Prime Minister of England?
A – Robinson??

Q – Which is further south – North Carolina or South Dakota?
A – South Dakota??

Q – Who was President during the Civil War?
A – Hoover??

I heard one of the girls ask – Is Thailand like in Korea? I had tears in my eyes by now.

The guys did pretty well. They were quizzed on Pop music and things. Well they learnt what they did not know and did way better than the girls.

In a way I am glad to see that they are using the show to bring up the self esteem of geeks and bimbos…In a way I am terribly sad that geeks are treated so badly for being…well…geeky! I am also stricken by how many girls and boys exist who don’t know basic general knowledge – and they manage to somehow justify the lack of such knowledge!! Oh the superficiality of it all!!

America never ceases to provide entertainment!!

Beauty and the Geek

Abbey's Pineapples!!

2005-05-27T09:11:00.000-07:00

What drops into your mind when you think of ‘Pineapple’? Do you get images of the sun soaked beaches of some tropical paradise? Maybe visions of hula dancers in grass skirts with orchid wreaths and leis caressing the crisp salty night? Maybe your senses are awakened by cocktails in coconut shells or curries in pineapple shells? How about some good old pineapple rasam or Thai fried rice with pineapple? Perhaps grilled slices of pineapple with a dash of rum? Or fresh cream pineapple pastry from sweet chariot in Bangalore? Hmmm…all things food and tropical, really!!

I love pineapples!! I enjoy smelling a ripe one in a grocery store or the local farmer’s market. Even when I hold the prickly fruit to my nose to smell its ripeness, my taste buds get tickled. I enjoy placing it in my fruit bowl in an aesthetic way, juxtaposing all the other fruit around it. It forms a nice visual treat till it’s eaten. I enjoy looking at the crown of the pineapple remembering the ‘flower arrangement competitions’ at school when some one or the other made a beautiful flower arrangement with a pineapple crown for a centre piece. I enjoy the sweet fragrance of the ripe fruit wafting through my kitchen, begging to be put under my loving knife.

And then as I break off the crown, slice off the ends and deftly slice through the thick spiky skin, I am reminded of the many times I have watched my father do the exact same thing. We’d always hope that the fruit was sweet and not sour, if it was not sweet enough, we’d coat it liberally with sugar. The crunch of the granulated sugar sweetened the fruit and brought smiles to our eyes as the juice dribbled down our hands and chins. When dad saw how quickly I could cut up a pineapple he was awestruck!! My precious dad, surprised by even the simplest things I do!! The pineapples are always sweet here…the growers even guarantee it.

As the juice flows onto my hands and then to the cutting board, I think of the many times Hubbs and I used to walk to one of the many “Ganesh Fruit Juice Centre”s just to get a couple of glasses of pineapple juice. We’d always drink some, then pack some for later and drink it with lunch or dinner. I also remember the push carts back in India, with ochre coloured ananas nurturing flies and dust. The sticky juice makes my hands even more slippery.

As I make long incisions along the rows of ‘eyes’ with seeds and gently cut them out in strips, I am reminded of the cold coffee shop kitchen where I hacked countless pineapples each morning. My good friend Deb would toss a piece of watermelon or cantaloupe into my mouth and I’d toss a piece of pineapple into his mouth. I don’t know where Deb is now, or who he chops fruit with anymore. I make pretty diagonal patterns and quickly quarter the fruit and slice them into bite sized chunks. For the thousandth time I wonder if I am the only one who likes the hard core.

Finally when my cutting board, my precious knife and my hands are all washed and dried, I ignore the fork by the bowl and take a piece with my fingers and bite into the succulent sweetness. The acid sweet taste explodes in my nostrils before flowing onto my tongue, flooding my mouth with intense flavour. The juice dribbles a bit on my chin and as usual I giggle like a school girl. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and reach for the second piece while still chewing on the first one. If I am greedy for any food, its fruit…I can’t live without fruit. And while munching I think of my childhood, yet again.

In fact, every time I see a pineapple, I become a little girl. I remember the forest floor crowded with wild pineapple plants flanking the slippery path down the little hill. We’d have to go through horizontal logs of wood that served as a gate of sorts before starting our hike down the hill. The trail was a narrow one, bordered by ferns, poinsettias, cannas and birds of paradise, and it winded steeply through a coffee plantation. The red berries would look splendidly sweet against the dark glossy leaves. The sunlight would filter down in strips and straps through the tall teak and silver oak trees. Dad would show me the coffee berries and clusters of green pepper on the vines. Mom would show me the turmeric, ginger and cardamom plants, teaching me how to differentiate between them. And every now and then she’d stop for a bit to scan the dark roof above. When she did spot an orchid, she’d clap her hands in glee and we’d squeeze our eyes trying to imprint the shapes and colours of the orchids on our minds. The path had remnants of a few footholds in the garb of a dilapidated set of steps. As we carefully picked our way towards the bottom of the hill, the thunderous roar would get louder and nearer. And at the end of our little hike would flow one of the most famous attractions of beautiful Coorg – the Abbey Falls. The cascading water was breathtakingly stunning and surprisingly warm.

I am talking of years before the small hanging bridge there was built, when there were no crowds of tourists competing in screaming contests with the monkeys around. I hate it when tourists scream, its so disturbing!! There used to be a few logs of wood on which we could walk to the other side of the river if we wanted to. And I recollect the very first time I went there, when I was barely 3 or 4. At the sight of so much water, I was ready to jump in and splash it all away when mom’s firm hand restraining me had spoken volumes of the dangers that lurked beneath the bubbling brook. We had sat on the mossy rocks and ma had showed me graceful slivers of black and silver – water snakes. She put her index finger close to the surface of the water and moved it around and at the scent of blood, leeches came like little blood starved sharks, moving ever so gracefully along with my ma’s hovering finger. They craned their little bodies towards hers in hopes of a drink… Ooooh!! That gives me goose bumps even now!! Everyone around got plenty of leach attachments, all except me.

Dad and his friends would carefully stick the bottles of beer into the water, securing them within the boundaries of rocks and pebbles, while Ma and her friends would find ant-less spots for the picnic. There were places where the leeches and snakes would not come and after a few years, my parents were as good as the locals at finding the right places, so I would splash around in the designated areas. The water pounding on my head would make me deaf and giddy. The rocks beneath my bare feet so slippery and smooth, the chirping and crying of birds and insects and animals all around, the extraordinarily feathery ferns and colourful caladiums – so many varieties….I remember it all. Strange how my eyes saw everything so differently at that age! I guess that’s the age when I took my first photographs – with my eyes. The prints are permanently etched on my mind.

I revisited Abbey Falls in 2000, after 16 years, with my new husband and some friends. I am glad the owner of the estate has left it open to tourists and still collects no entry fee. Abbey Falls is in a private coffee estate. The local Kodavas insist on calling Abbey Falls, Abbaey Falls…and that’s what it is called even now.

A lot has changed – it’s noisier, dirtier, hotter, strewn with plastic and paper, the coke bottles and lays packets a reminder that India is way more global than we can ever imagine… too many stems of ferns, coffee and spices are broken and disfigured, too many birds have given up hope for peace and quiet and moved on to denser parts of the forests. The trees and rocks have ugly memoirs of decades of travelers and revelers. But the pineapple plants are still there – the silent prickly clusters of crowned sweetness, yielding delicious and juicy moments of silent pleasure.

4 yrs ago, as I sat on a huge rock close to the waterfall, the spray soaking the skin on my neck and face, I noted that the leeches and water snakes were not around. Perhaps they were fearful of a more dangerous enemy – man.

Pina Coladas anyone???

My Liquid Destinies!!

2005-05-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

Here!!

Bananas...and more bananas!!

2005-05-19T23:29:00.000-07:00

Bananas!! For those of us from tropical countries, there is nothing particularly remarkable about bananas. But it’s impossible to imagine life without the humble banana and its cousin the plantain. Whether it is in the form of dessert or breakfast or a snack, bananas are absolutely indispensable.

They are the perfect travel food – I remember those bus trips when the person seeing me off always ensured that I was equipped with bananas and buns, just in case I got hungry?? They make a great snack when you are on the go and you need to be energized instantly. I have vague recollections of making faces at the mandatory after dinner bananas as a kid, only to be reminded of how Lendl and Steffi ate bananas during tennis matches. It sure helped!! They add a great spark to your dull bowl of cereal and are perfect just plain. They are a must in smoothies and make great milk shakes too. And who does not like banana bread or banana cake. I love bananas in pancakes. Try making samwiches too…Banana sammies are one of my comfort foods!! Yum-oh!!

Bananas are good for most people! It has an impressive list of nutrients and it tastes a whole lot better than a pill! Make that - pills and drinks (Metamucil, Benefiber and the like…bananas are just so much better!!)

Back in India as in most tropical countries, a banana plant is a common site in homes. Just about every part of the banana plant is used. The banana flowers are used to make a delicious kootu – from each purplish red bud the individual bracts (commonly thought of as flowers) are painstakingly taken apart to discard the stamens, which are bad to taste. Here’s a recipe to try!

Another kootu is made from the stem of the banana plant – the extremely fibrous, hollow stems are chopped finely and dropped in huge bowls of water or buttermilk, a thin stick is then twirled in the water to collect the loose inedible fibers. The unripe green bananas make great curries and palyas/poriyals, batter fry them to make bajjis, or just slice them and deep fry them. The fruit, of course, is more widely eaten.

Plantains are slightly bigger. The closest Indian relative I can think of is the Nendram from Kerala. They are yummy by themselves, but steam them and you have the most perfect snack!! You could shallow fry the steamed slices in some ghee and drizzle them generously with honey and you will have a dessert fit for royalty!! I tasted this at a Mopla household near Mangalore…

I remember about a year or so ago, I was craving for a taste of home. And of all the places I could have possibly been, I was in New Orleans at that precise moment. I was through with jambalaya and gumbo and humungous portions of buttery rich food for a lifetime and was in the beginnings of a bad mood. At the nick of time, we found this nice little Gambian restaurant tucked in the farther part of the French Quarter, nothing fancy, just 4 tables in a dingy room. The food was so close to Indian food, the eggplant almost tasted like baingan ka bharta!! And the dessert…Uffff!!! Fried slices of plantain slathered in honey and served with ice cream!! Once I was home, I improvised as usual and added toasted coconut flakes… yum yum YUMmmmm!!!

Speaking of desserts – another childhood favorite is the traditional rasaayana - slices of bananas with fresh coconut, honey or sugar, cardamom. Add some milk and ghee to that and you have panchaamruta a very traditional prasada served at special pujas. I used to enjoy this inspite of my aversion to milk, until one day the Aunt that was in charge of the sacred slush mentioned ever so casually that bovine urine & faeces was considered holy enough to be consumed!! Then I heard another person mentioning Morarji Desai and his weird habits… Since then I politely decline anything offered at Pujas.

Banana chips are also made with plantains – yellow flakes of crisp bliss, the best kinds come from Kerala and Coimbatore. They also make these chips with ripe fruit – absobloodylutely delicious!!! They make a sweet with it in Kerala as well – chunks of banana coated with molasses and palm sugar...sweet!! Not very fond of it, but its popular!!

And any Indian knows that banana leaves make great plates – what a fabulous way to eat!! I think even the simplest of meals tastes extraordinarily delicious when served on a banana leaf. They also make great packets to steam/bake/grill food in and this technique is not unique to India. They do so in quite a few Asian countries, in Mexico, in the Amazon, in Africa….everyone who understands bananas, understands the unique flavour that a banana leaf adds to food.

And I don’t know if there is any a Hindu religious ritual or festival without the banana plants, leaves and fruit. For as long as I can remember I have seen the plants adorning everything – from doorways of temples, homes, shops, even vehicles….and all the colours and fragrances become more intensified with the familiar decorations. There is so much more to bananas and culture!! Read this….its interesting!!

When I was younger there was a really popular variety called Rasabaale. I don’t find them around much and that suits me fine coz I never really liked the excessive sweetness or the gooey texture. Then there is the ever present pachhabaale, or as the Tamilians like to call it, the Morris variety. These are somewhat similar to the Dole, Del Monte and Chiquita brands that have inundated the American markets…the Cavendish, I believe is the variety!! I most enjoy two of the smaller varieties which are unique to South India – the Yalakki or Elaichi, and the putta-baale (sort of like finger bananas) which is smaller and sweeter. A healthy teenager can easily eat a bunch or two!! ..ahem!!...now, you know I am referring to myself when I was a lot younger, right!! I swear I needed it – I climbed tress and haystacks and needed all the energy!! Don’t roll those eyes at me!!

When we traveled up the hills, we would find a couple of different varieties, one of which is a maroon-red kind and the other a bright yellow variety. I don’t remember the names, but they don’t taste very different from the regular green or yellow spotted kinds. There are many more interesting varieties….

But bananas can’t be limited to just foods. I mean how can anyone forget one of my favorite slangs –bananas?? [Bananas = crazy, nuts, insane….I love what this means!!]

I don’t want to be prude and not mention the obvious connections the humble banana has to sexuality – some subtle and others blatant. From the mating rituals of the tribes in East Africa to banana flavoured condoms, it’s all over the area of sexuality. [I am not going to think of Desmond Morris now!!]

What pops to my mind is Woody Allen’s Bananas!! And what about the classic comedies of Herbie & the Beetle!! If you did not watch it as a kid, please do yourself a favour and put it on for your children - Herbie goes Bananas!! The slipping on a banana peel act still gets me laughing....of course if I saw someone actually fall, I 'ahem' would not laugh!

There's so much more to know about boring bananas...for instance, did you know there was a banana beer? Or that there could be weapons made of bananas??

Here’s some food for thought….. Why are monkeys bananas for bananas??

And while you are thinking of that....check out my pictures!! That is the last link...I promise!!

Weekend Rants!!

2005-05-15T18:03:00.000-07:00

Aren’t rants lovely to read?? I hear they are lovely to write as well. Are they?? Well, I suppose they can be fun, if you know how to rant. I don’t know if I do know how to rant. I complain a lot, but usually about the same thing. So, I figured I find some new things to complain about. J

Well for starters, I come back to my beloved PC and what do I see?? None of my blogger pals are around. Of course, I could think to myself and say, ‘Hey Chay, you were so missed on blog-boards, that your buddies decided to take a break as well, till you come back.” But that would not be true. So I won’t think it. I am not saying it, am I? As it is I have a reputation of being narcissistic and totally & inseparably in love with my handle. Well, I am in love with Chay…err I meant the meaning of Chaya – life. Oh well! Think what you want, you lovers of ‘chayspeak’!! (It’s a good thing it’s just my handle and not my name eh!!)

It’s Sunday afternoon. Hubby is mowing the lawn. We tried to weed the backyard which needs much work. After 15 minutes of digging with a hoe which is a ‘Made in India’ from Lowes, Hubbs decided we should see if we can get a mechanized version of sorts for rent. Most of my garden tools are ‘Made in Indias’, amazing how there are so many business opportunities right there and all our Desi entrepreneurs can see is the need for Desi groceries or Enterprise Solutions. No one really wants to climb the rainbow, they’d rather be at the ends, on terra firma!! Well, It makes good business sense to be in safe place, no? Yeah…but what would I know??

For the 1000th time, why do the houses seem so flimsy in Oosa?? Yeah yeah!! I know about earthquakes and tornadoes and in our case, volcanoes and what not!! But I still wish they were made off brick and mortar like back home. At least I would not hear the Chinese Opera playing in my neighbour’s home.

Speaking of building, I spoke with Ma last night. Last month a truck of construction sand cost Rs. 4000. This month the same truck of sand costs Rs 14,000!!! Can you believe that!! If the problem is not with sand, then it is with water. How can anyone build a house in Bangalore with such ridiculous prices?? Good news is that she does not need much sand anymore.

I am trying to clean out my pantry. In the process I discovered I need more shelving in there. There is so much food there, that I can feed an army for another year or so. I finally managed to get some good old desi type dabbas at Wal-Mart at prices that don’t give me a heart attack!! (Yes, they are ‘Made in China’) So now, all my grains and masalas look pretty and presentable. My Oosa’ian friends sure love the colours and shapes. It’s like a Montessori school for them with new colours and new shapes!! Thank goodness I have fewer groceries than cleaning supplies. The garage - that’s a story I am not going to tell you!!

I need more shelving in my closets as well. Poor hubbs seems so worn from his weekly yard work, I am so tempted to just try a hand at his power tools. Oh well, dry walls are so easy to fix, I am certain he wont mind terribly if I just punch a fist sized hole by mistake. Or I could just threaten to do that and he will put up all the shelving I need pronto!! Hmm….nice idea that!!

I got sunburned badly on my break. And it was raining for most of the time too, yet I managed to get sun burns. I now look like an over baked chocolate cookie…just before it burns!! If an SPF 45 sunscreen can’t take care of my super sensitive brown skin, I wonder what can!! Don’t say SPF 50, for goodness sake!!

We went bicycling last night. I finally figured how to use those gears. Dang!! And all this while I pedaled so hard needlessly!! Anyway, it was great fun to ride around last night in the pitch dark parts of our community, with absolutely no lights on. We even left the blinkers at home. It reminded me of the time when hubbs used to drive in the Bangalore University campus in pitch dark on our dates. We’d cruise slowly and the moment we came near the Law College Campus, he’d turn off the lights and I’d scream my head off for a couple of seconds and then we’d just enjoy the crickets and the star filled skies….till we came a main intersection with street lights. Then we’d turn around and do the whole thing again. How fun!!

There I go again, I wanted to rant and eventually came back to my unending love stories!! Sighs!! I can’t even rant properly!! Maybe I can rant about that the next time!!

Too much blogging....?? huh??

2005-05-08T16:26:00.000-07:00

You know you are spending too much time blogging, browsing and chatting when:
(not a general or specific 'you'. Its actually 'me') :-)

• When your dad calls you from home and says, ‘Hey Chay!!’ and continues to call you Chay instead of your real name.
• When your friends and family mail you addressing you as ‘Dear Chay’
• When all your mom and you discuss are your blogs, her health and the weather.
• When you hear a great joke and say ROTFL while laughing and holding your tummy
• When you chuckle in mid sentence and say Lollz
• When you don’t respond to your real name as quickly as you do to your handle, especially when hubby dear is asking for his socks. If he calls you ‘Chay’ you are so happy happy, even to hunt down his socks for the gazillionth time.
• When you almost get tendonitis, from excessive typing and mouse-ing. But still continue writing.
• When you write and write and churn out garbage continuously. And still you write and write. And everyone tells u to write and write.
• When you see someone or something you like and a smiley pops into your head.
• When you make smiley faces…like :-o *shaking head vigorously side to side* or :-p (I always did that, anyway)
• When on a lonely Friday afternoon, you are the only one on the shout box.
• When your friends complain that they are not getting enough of you.
• When your hubby is the first one to go to bed for a change at 1.00 am and you don’t sleep till 7.00 am. (ok that 7.00 am thingy does not happen too often!)
• When you trade boredom and endless cups of tea for insomnia and endless cups of coffee.
• When you say ‘brb’ to someone in the middle of a convo.
• When u use phrases like deffy, diffy, peeps, convo, etc etc. And keep interrupting yourself to say, ‘deffy=definitely, diffy= different….” You get the drift?
• When you forget to paint your toe nails in spring.
• And don’t care about being seen in your jammies at 11.00 in the morning.
• When you start making plans for blogger meets at various parts of the country and the other country at various times of the year. When you make vacation plans that include meeting blogger pals. When u start planning menus for these get togethers…etc
• When you want to blog about everything you see and hear. When you want to write about everything hurriedly, impatiently. When you always feel there’s more to write than you can write.
• When hubbs says, “I am scared to even say pipsqueak, coz I am certain it will end up in your blog.”
• When you throw caution to the wind while facing and living your own emotions, feelings and thinking your deepest thoughts.
• When you become desperate trying to articulate your thoughts. And that desperation leads to more dissonances.
• When you start developing new interests and passions. Progression is imperative for life (chaya), after all!!
• When you start rediscovering your old passions and loves. That is always a nice thing. And that’s what makes it totally worth it!!

Chay needs a break!! I am taking off for a week of fun and seasoned sun.
Hopefully when I am back, I will be able to write something decent. Enjoy my friends! I will miss you!!

PS: Oh! And feel free to add to this list. This is mine, but u might have similar points too.

Re(v)el in the love!!

2005-05-05T14:34:00.000-07:00

On the 1st of May, 2000, a young man and a young woman were surrounded by their closest friends who happened to be in town on that particular Sunday. As they walked in through the huge ancient temple doors, they were assaulted by the pungent smell of incense, camphor and the monotone chanting…and sudden panic from one of the buddies. “We don’t have any garlands!! There are no wedding garlands!!” While the groomsmen ran helter skelter looking for a flower shop that was open, the bride and groom stole a moment and spoke with their eyes and smiles. That was us...me and my hubbs!

Friends were teasing us that we were about to wed on Labour Day (1st of May is Labour Day in India), hence we were going to labour a lot! They were right!! Others joked and said May Day!! May Day!! It was all frighteningly funny!! In the heightened confusion, amidst friends who became family and strangers who became friends, exactly 5 yrs ago I took my hubbs as my lawfully wedded hubbs. 5 years of sickness and health, 5 years of struggles and rest, 5 years of good times and bad, 5 years of wandering and 5 years of love, devotion and sheer fortitude!!

So on the 1st this month, marking our 5 year mark, we started our celebrations a day earlier and extended it to the next day as well. We received the usual phone calls and emails with wishes and blessings, the gifts were there. But we were both in a sober mood...not sure why. Perhaps we felt that time was passing by too quickly, perhaps we were overwhelmed yet again when we looked back at our action packed marriage. Perhaps we were once again filled to the brims of our hearts with love and gratitude. Our eyes definitely seemed to be brimming that day…with tears and many other things.

We had a ton of shopping to finish before our week long trip out of town that’s coming up. And a nice lunch and more shopping, we decided to go to one of our favorite spots for a warm evening before dinner – the Marina Park on the Kirkland Waterfront. It is a favorite spot among the desis as well as the real desis of Seattle. It offers spectacular sunsets on the Lake Washington and beautiful boats on the Marina. The whole of downtown Kirkland is quaint yet has an urban downtownish feeling to it!! I just love Kirkland!! Its perfectly paced!!

So here we are - sitting on the steps by the Moss Bay beach, my arm crooked in his elbow and his hand holding mine, smelling the salty water, smiling at ducks and children, breathing in the cold air and allowing the sun to warm us up. We noticed not more than 20 feet from us a small group of girls and boys. One of the guys was wearing a wetsuit, fins, goggles and all. The short distance between the steps and the water was strewn with rose petals and the path to the water was flanked by purple candles and votives. The diver by now was maneuvering a remote control operated toy boat towards himself. When it got close enough we saw there was bunch of flowers inside the boat. And what now, he was inserting a fishing hook into a bottle with more flowers. Very odd this whole thing!! The crowds were gathering by now. Everybody was curious! Kids stopped playing; even the dogs stopped playing fetch.

The diver then swam some 40 feet into the water with the bottle in hand and looked for a way to hide behind a bobbing orange buoy. The other friends quickly settled all the things, gave final touches and then dashed away. After 5 mins, one of the guys came back and yelled across the water to the diver, ‘she’s at the wrong beach!!’ The crowd burst out laughing!! And soon enough they were saying their ‘awws’ and ‘sweet boy’s!! Well the diver by now was frustrated getting tired of all the kicking to stay afloat. And the candles were getting blown out by the wind as well. A couple of women ran and re-lit them, the diver yelled his thanks and it was now a community event!! Encouraging calls were made over the water, ‘hang in there dude! err…stay afloat!!’ etc etc.

In some 10 mins, ‘she’ was escorted to the park by more girls and boys. And there she was in beautiful pastel green linen pants and sweater, full of glee and jumping up and down with her hand clamped on her mouth. But, when they reached the water, she asked another girl to go forward. We were focused on the wrong girl!!! Aaaargh!!! The right girl was in jeans and a white halter and had no smile or grin. She seemed nervous and embarrassed!! She was looking at the candles and treading on the rose petals carefully so she would not squish them. She came up to the edge of the water, picked up a piece of paper that said, ‘reel me in!!’ She then picked up the fishing pole nearby and started reeling in whatever it was!! The toy boat was supposed to be the decoy, as the diver swam under water, bobbing only now and then to breathe. This took forever!!! The crowd was getting antsy and the she was getting tired. But by now she was giggling too. After a very long 5 or 10 mins, the boat and diver came to the shore. Amidst squeals and giggles, he presented her with the bottle in his hand. The single stem of rose in it broke and cut a sorry figure. But they all laughed. Then he scooped the flowers from the boat and gave it to her. The crowd started clapping and cheering!!

Somehow everyone around was under the impression that he was proposing marriage to her…but he did not. Instead they all just sat around on the steps and laughed and joked. We assumed it might have been her birthday or something!! She just seemed so numbed by the gesture!! It was sweet to watch them all.

As hubby and I kissed to celebrate the love around, we both felt a little more reassured that with love, everything works out fine!! We have never made our wedding anniversary a big affair, perhaps because our families always thought that something was wrong in the way we got married. But we do celebrate our marriage and as always, it never is on one day each year. We find ways to celebrate each other as often as possible….I suppose its okay to say that I am happily married!!

***********

For dessert, I’d like to present a song from Astitva. Listen to it here (the 4th song). Regardless of whether you understand Hindi or not, listen to it. This is one of those songs that reach the depths of your heart. The movie itself is very good and I recommend that as well.

The lyrics are provided below, as is the lose translation. Go ahead and work on the translations if you think I might be wrong…I hardly know Hindi.

kitne kisse hain tere mere
kitne kisse hain bas tere mere

dhoop kadi hain
chaon mili mujhe
anchal main tere
umas badi hain
chhoom li paon
zameen se tere

kitne kisse hain bas tere mere
kitne kisse hain bas tere mere

aTari pe tere sokar hain
dekhe maine angin sapne
khidki se tere jhanke hain
man main suraj mere kitne

aangan mein tere main khili thi
jab banke rajnigandha
darwaze se aaye the andar
mausam woh khushi ke saare

kitne kisse hain bas tere mere
kitne kisse hain bas tere mere
kitne kisse hain bas tere mere

[kissa, qissa : Anecdote, Dispute, Event, Fable, Happening, Incident, Legend, Matter, Romance, Story, Tale, Quarrel, Yarn, myth, story] I prefer using the word 'episode' in the transalation… it just seems more complete.

Translation:

So many episodes that are yours and mine
There are so many episodes just yours and mine

The sun is hot
And I found shade in your shelter
The heat stifles
My feet kissed your ground away.

So many episodes that are just yours and mine
There are so many episodes just yours and mine

I dreamt myriad dreams
While sleeping in your grand house
So many suns shone into my heart
When they peeped in through your windows

When I was a heady & fragrant flower (rajnigandha)
And had bloomed in your yard
Through the door had come
All the seasons of happiness

That’s how many episodes are there, just yours and mine
How many episodes are there, just yours and mine?
So many episodes that are just yours and mine

The Ride!

2005-05-02T09:47:00.000-07:00

When as in silks my Julia walks,
Then then methinks how sweetly flows,
That liquefaction of her clothes

She remembered the tender strong voice reciting the poem aloud. “Was it Herrick?” The question lingered on the borders of her thoughts. “Maybe!” she dismissed the question flippantly. Her fingers stroked the grayish-blue silk of her dress and she was comforted by its textured softness. She had a soft smile on her mouth and her eyes were lit with joy and bright signs.

The neon lights floated listlessly on the car windows. And along with the lights her mind traversed against the general stream of traffic. She spotted a knot of young girls and boys in front of a bar with a bright red sign. They were in uniforms, probably partying after a varsity game, she thought. As they floated past her, her mind heard the steady voice of her Ma as she ascended the stairs to her room.

**********

She was sprawled on her tummy and emptying another box of tissues.
Ma walks in shaking her head gently, her brow furrowed with concern.

She gently strokes her head, “Write!”
“What use is it? They won’t like me anyway!”
“There will be others. You are just in school. You still have so many people to meet, so much to live. See our friends? We met most of them in the university.”
“Ma, I heard them talking. They said they were going to ostracize me. They went to the game without me Ma. They left me behind. It is writing that always gets me into trouble.”
“Still, write! You must just be careful about what you do with your writing”
“You aren’t angry with me for getting into trouble?”
“Yes I am, but that can wait. Now get up and wash your face. I want you to write everything you feel. Don’t worry about making it an essay. Just write.”

Ma’s kiss lingered on her cheek, as she struggled to fight back the tears that threatened to flood the car and stain her dress.
*******
“Not now!” she murmured to herself. And then loudly, she said, “Stop it! You don’t have time to do your eyes again.” She exhaled and shook the thoughts out of her head.

She saw Tim looking at her in the rear view mirror with concern.
“You ok Miss?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you Tim. Are we there yet?”
“In just a bit Miss. We will be on time.”
“Alright then!”

She looked outside again. A street musician seemed to be lost in his world. His fingers strummed his guitar and a cigarette was hanging from his lips. And with the wispy smoke, her mind went back to the time when she sat around a warm bonfire on a cold December night.

********

Janni has the tamte and he is singing a folk song from a new play still in production. Ma is with Rathna inside arranging for more snacks, Pa as always is teasing Raghu Uncle about being a tagaru. It sure is a great way to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

She is sitting close to the fire and the music, lost in the stars above, lost in her many fantasies.
Venu comes by and sits next to her with a bottle of Kingfisher in his hand. He ruffles her hair and asks with a broad grin, “Tell me na, will you marry me?”.
She blushes furiously and tugs at his beard, “Venu Uncle, stop teasing me!”
“Who uncle, where uncle?” he searches around in mock shock.
She cries aloud, “Maaaa. Venu has started again!!”
Everyone laughs and so does she.

Janni stops singing and asks, “So when are you writing my script? We have a vacant spot for you, you know. You can write or act or do both…what do you say?”
She does not know what to say and looks away with a polite smile.

On the way back home, in the soft morning glow were loving embraces by all 12 siblings and all their friends. Every single one of them had at some time or the other teased her about marrying them. She was their muddu hudugi, laadli, the precious sweet child everyone loved.

Laughter, smoke, the crackling fireplace and Janni’s singing! So warm, so distant.

***************

The car halts at the traffic light as does her reverie. Another question rises on the horizon, “Where is Janni now?” “Maybe he is back in NSD teaching or maybe still at the repertoire!” She dismissed the question with acquired ease.

In the silence that followed in her mind, she searched for something to fill the empty moments with. The flashing yellow and blue sign indicated a coffee shop.

She remembered the time she had coffee with her Pa after browsing in Gangarams for an indefinite period of time.
He had quietly asked her,”Why won’t you write? You write well, you know!”
“Pa, don’t start now. Not you as well!”
“Why not? You Ma is right.”
“Well, what do you want me to write?”
“Anything you want! Start anywhere, you’ll find the road you need to take.”
“Pa, why don’t you write? Your thesis on Shelley is getting as old as you!”
“Touché!”
Giggles and laughter! Just like old times!

And then there was that phone call from cousin V.
“Akka, you write so well. Why don’t you write?”
“When did you read any of my writing da?”
“You write me emails right?”
“Uff! Bye now! Take care”
“Akka, akka, wait…hello”

The visions from past just summon themselves, rudely!!

Thatha (grandfather), beckons her into his study on a humid summer afternoon, and shows her his new hobby – his writing. He is writing a book in the grand old age of 85. He says, “I am writing this book in Tamil. When I am done, your mother will edit it and have it published. Will you translate it to English?”

Uncle S meets her after many years and asks, “Are you writing?”

Another Uncle S meets her after many years and gives her his latest book in Kannada. Then he asks, “When will I have the privilege of reading your writing?”

She met Ma’s professor one day. When introduced, he asks, “Who do you write like? You Ma or your Pa?’

Uncle D mails her, “I was about to suggest you try creative writing, given the grace with which you write….”

And finally she hears the familiar voice of Hubbs saying on a hundred different occasions, each time the same thing, “Why don’t you write?” at every party, every gathering, in front of friends, when alone, agreeing with Ma and Pa and all the others around her.

She hears all the voices saying the same thing…Write dear Write!! They seem to echo one another. She can see all the faces, imploring, pleading…Write dear Write!! The resulting cacophony is beyond description, it would have put a Mariners game to shame. Her whole world spins and she gasps for breath. She holds her head, honestly believing it will either implode or explode any moment!! Compounding the voices with their demands is Janni explaining the joy of writing for theatre, Venu asking if she would sing with him, the tamte already booming in her head.

And right through the cacophony comes an unwavering, tender & strong voice – When as in silks my Julia walks, then then methinks how sweetly flows,that liquefaction of her clothes. With a gasp she realizes it’s her own voice. Her English teacher from school is trying to shush the laughing children who have mushroomed all around her. The incessant dissonance gets louder and louder and all the voices amalgamate into an unbearable crescendo that threatens to sweep her away in its thunderous deluge.

Suddenly, the cold air chills her back to reality!! She looks around and realizes she is in her car.
A voice in the distant horizon reaches her world. Miss….miss…
“Miss?? Miss? Are you Okay?” Tim is asking though the open door.

She just looks at Tim’s face with glazed eyes trying to focus.
She remembers that she has to breathe and touches her temple to steady herself.

“Miss? We are here already. Are you Okay?”
She looks around and quickly collects herself. She remembers now.
“Yes Tim, thank you” she says hoarsely.

Tim looks unconvinced. He hands her a bottle of Perrier and closes the door gently to save her from embarrassment. After quickly looking at herself in the mirror, she realizes she looks nothing like she feels. Pushing a stray hair back in place, she smoothes her dress. And with a confident smile, she steps out of the car. Tim smiles back and pats her hand and she knows all will be well.

Later that evening, when all the speeches were made and thanks were said, she raises her glass in a silent toast to all that have encouraged her over the years. The stars above smile in their sparkle and join her in her silent salute!!

Dangling Conversations

2005-04-28T10:08:00.000-07:00

I watched them as they walked in.

Everything seemed to be crumbling! Was it really dissipating? All these feelings of love and devotion, were they really temporary? These were the questions that hammered in both of their minds. Both their hearts were weary…both were weak. As they walked into the nearby Starbucks, both were hungry for sanity and needed their doses of caffeine. They did not talk much….they were tired of talking. As he stood wondering what to get her, she wandered off to see the new coffee presses on the display shelves, lost in her own thoughts. He came looking for her….

Do you want regular coffee or a latte?
Regular! Strong! The usual!
Do you want to mix in some milk?
No. Just regular and black! Strong!
Are you sure??
Yes!!
But I was hoping…
….yes?
Never mind!!

He goes back to the counter and starts ordering. He then spots the lemon pound cake…and orders a piece. He turns around to see if she is around. She lifts her head when she hears him order for the cake. Their eyes meet and they smile slightly. She walks toward the counter as the coffee gets ready.

“Could you please warm up the cake a bit?” She asks the check-out girl.
“No! It tastes better when it is cold. Please don’t warm it up.” He tells the check-out girl.

The Check-out girl looks confused.

But I don’t like pound cake cold.
Are you sure?
Yes!
Ok! Whatever you want!

Back at their table, she stirs in raw sugar into their cups of coffee and she opens her bag of cake. He stares out of the window and she offers him his coffee. He refuses, and she asks why he changed his mind…He does not answer. She offers the cake. “I hate warm cake”, he says…..
She puts the bag on the table and stares out of the window as well, stirring her coffee.

Is it really so easy to loose the love over a piece of lemon pound cake? They both wonder. They both tell themselves that it’s not about the cake, really. They both stare at the raindrops on the window pane. They both sigh….and they both remain silent. They are yet on the same page. They just don’t know it.

And as I watch them through the steam and aroma rising from my own cup of strong black coffee. In the background Paul Simon strums his guitar and sings softly of the pain in the stifling air above.

….And we sit and drink our coffee, couched in our indifference……..
In the dangling conversations…and the superficial sighs…are the borders of our lives…
And you read your Emily Dickenson…and I my Robert Frost.
And we note our place with bookmarkers…that measure what we’ve lost.
Like a poem poorly written…we are verses out of rhythm, couplets out of rhyme…
….in syncopated time.
Lost in the dangling conversations…and the superficial sighs…are the borders of our lives…

The minutes tick by slowly, the coffee is drained quickly.
His jaw flexes involuntarily and he tightens his grip on the table’s edge for a long moment and then it slackens.
Suddenly, he gets up, picks up his files & papers and coffee, turns around and leaves.
And she looks at his receding back for a bit.
Then she picks up her papers and goes after him.
And I wonder…did they go in the same direction? Or did they get into separate cars and drive in opposite directions?
I scramble outside to find out…..but they are gone.

The only relic of their lasting togetherness is a used paper cup with lipstick marks and an uneaten piece of lemon pound cake.

A homeless man walks into the store bringing with him the stench of poverty and cold. He looks around fidgeting in his pockets. Silently, he swipes the cake when no one’s watching. The bus-boy walks to the table, clears it and wipes it clean.

And they cease to exist.

All that’s left is a dangling conversation, in the mind of some stranger.

Doctors & Friends - I

2005-04-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

What would this world be without doctors??
A lot sicker than it already is!

My first memory of doctors is from a time when I was 4 yrs old. We used to live in the outskirts of a sleepy coffee and orange growing hamlet called Mercara in the beautiful Kodagu district of Karnataka. Everyone that came to visit us had to give a toll fee to enter the hallowed hallways of Chez baby Chay, especially if they wanted to pinch her cheeks while making cute noises and be spared a painful finger bite. The toll fee was Cadbury’s chocolate. And since I was such a cute and cute baby, I was pampered rotten!! The results as you can expect was decay in my cute baby teeth. So at the age of 4, when I was on vacation at Chez Ammachi in another sleepy hamlet called Aruvankadu near Ooty, I got up one night screaming in pain and my poor grandparents got frightened. The very next morning carted me off to the dentist in Coonoor along with my mother, my doctor Chitti (aunty) and her very new husband, who were also on vacation. After some mood enhancing medications (…ahem!!) and a quick extraction, the dentist packed me off. I thought he was the nicest person ever, coz he said I could have ice-cream. The blood soaked piece of cotton in the back of my mouth sure tasted funny, but I was one happy kid that day!!

My grandparents lived right across the hospital in Aruvankadu. My Chitti worked there. And to control my soopeer-hyper mischievous cute self, I was threatened with many oosis and the like (oosi=injection/shot). And then there was that dreadful nursery rhyme that Sister Dorothy forced us to learn in my school in Mercara –
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….
…..you get the drift right!!!!

I lived with grandparents for a bit and our frequent visitors were Dr. Rao and Dr. Reena and all of other doctors who used to drop in every other evening for a cup of tea. They were colleagues of Chitti and enjoyed our unique family with old people, a very young ‘people’ and plenty of love, tea, varki and conversation. Each evening Thatha regaled them with stories from his days in the Navy and Ammachi had stories from her day at the school.

By now, I was petrified of doctors. The moment I heard the familiar voices and greetings, I would run from whichever corner of the house I was playing pranks from, straight to the toilet at the back of the house and lock myself in there. When summoned I would refuse to come out….after much coaxing I would finally come out, say a quick hello and then run off again.

The final straw came when the same Chitti got pregnant and had the first baby I ever took care of. (That baby is now doing her Masters in NYU…how time flies by) By now, I also hated hospitals, the smell of phenyle and dettol, doctors and nurses….anything medicine. When the baby got sick, I refused to go with Ammachi. When I got sick I went….kicking and screaming all the way from the toilet to the doctor’s room. And after settling down, I told Dr. Reena, “If you have to give me medicines, please give me only benadryl or vicodin. Those are the only ones that taste nice. And please don’t forget succee” I was hooked to vitamin c even as a kid!! One time I had to be given a shot, and I was so brave about it in front of the doctor…and when I got home, I screamed for hours at least, claiming it hurt!!

Just within my immediate family there are 4 nursing homes, 10 cousins who are doctors, 1 who is in med school, 3 nieces/nephews in med school, 2 vets, 2 dentists, 1 uncle who is a doctor, 1 aunty who is a doctor, and 2 uncles who were doctors and who longer are alive. Some of my best friends are doctors and they are all over the world now. I am not even mentioning family friends now.

And how can I forget hospitals? Apart from the times when my grandparents were in the hospital (for very long durations), my ma had 2 surgeries, both of which left me in the hospital corridors for a month each time. My dad had some heart trouble…again a month or so hospital time. I was barely 15, and being the only child, I had to do quite a bit. That’s when I completely got over my fear of hospitals & doctors. Since then I have always had fabulous relationships with all my doctors, and there’s quite a few of them, both here and in India. I think I got my best training when my dear husband had to do a rather long hospital stay…it lasted a few months and I knew everyone in that big hospital, right from the security guards to the Director. I developed such good friendships, learnt so much and cherish each of them.

My respect for nurses increased tremendously as I watched them take care of patient after patient. The ayahs and maids thought nothing before changing soiled sheets or helping patients with bed pans and the like. And yet they are the least appreciated. They are not even respected. I did feel badly for the doctors. At the end of each day, I could see some of them – tired, exhausted, almost giving up on their desire to bring healing. The ones that seemed toughest in the ICUs and wards were the ones I saw sobbing in secret. Some were always happy – seemingly calm, and in the privacy of their cabins, they would tell me of their fears. Most people say hospitals are depressing, that the constant sights and smells of ailments and death bother them. I never felt that way. Even when faced with the possibility of the death of my husband of 10 months, I could not feel depressed. How could I?? All around me I saw people who steeled themselves and went about with a smile in the face of obvious agony.

I am so glad I am not a doctor. I am glad & thankful however, that I don’t flinch when I see sick people….even those that are very sick. I surprised myself when at this same hospital I was compelled to make visits to the general wards every day to meet with patients. I would chat them up, hold their hands, pray with them, and read to them…shush crying babies, comfort grieving families. I just had to do it…there was no way I could sit still. Those days were somehow very comforting….to be able to comfort someone in pain, is one of the nicest gifts one can receive. Someday I hope to be able to do it again.

While most people become doctors for all the right reasons, somewhere along the way, priorities change. Visions of bringing healing to the poor and downtrodden (great answers at interviews and such!) are traded for visions of wealth and luxury. I recently spoke with a young doctor, who has made a conscious choice to stay in a remote area in India. While his classmates and buddies trot the globe and make careers for themselves, he chose to follow the dictates of his heart. He will soon be made the director of a small hospital that serves thousands in the area. He has so many challenges to face – political, financial, lack of resources, doctors, equipment and what not. And I am so proud of him…He was mentioning about how so many doctors are not respected even by other doctors, just because they choose to work in rural areas and not go abroad and make it big. Sooner or later, many of them get disillusioned and quit. They get tired of the endless battles against a corrupt system and join a corporate hospital in the city. I don’t blame them…the system is sick…and there is no known medicine or treatment. But at least they tried!! And to my good friend – you know who you are….I am so proud of you!! Never mind the mockers and the jeerers, the world is full of them anyway. What the world does not have enough of are people like you….and we need more.

Another such doctor is my cousin Harsha. He read med school books while still in high school. I could not stand him when I was younger simply because our parents always compared us. He somehow was always everyone’s favorite, because he had his nose in school books and I had mine in everything else. Harsha is now a doctor, his brother is a doctor somewhere in Leeds and his sister is an intern at med school. I am so proud of them all….particularly of Harsha…he chose to remain in my hometown, tend his and my ancestral orchards and simultaneously run a hospital in a nearby village. It’s the only hospital in a radius of some 40 kms. Last year he almost got killed because he caught something while treating a minor epidemic in the area, but he is still going strong. I am so proud of all the doctors who after 5 years of sweat and toil, did not give up on the ones that need their expertise urgently.

For all my fear of doctors and hospitals, as much as I ran way from it all, I find myself drawn to the world of medicine and healing. I don’t read up medical journals and pay much attention to major breakthroughs….heck, I don’t even know the most common medical terms. I don’t watch hospital shows or medicine related reality shows on TV. Yet, these past few days, all I think of is hospitals and doctors….and all I think of is how I can help. What can I do??

I have been struggling with my lack of specificity in life. I am looking for a place to start living my dreams & purpose and I find myself lost in a foggy world between reality and potential . A friend suggested I write about what is dearest to me, what I believe in…and so I wrote this. Perhaps, I will find some answer soon…until then, I shall trek on.

And to all the doctors in my life….and to those in my virtual life as well – Thank You!! I do think you are God’s own workers tending His fields and healing His people. You make this world better and healthier. Thank You!!

I forgot the last lines in the nursery rhyme….
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….

Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now…
Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now

PS: I know this post took on a serious note towards the end…but it’s straight from my heart.

B'day boy & fighter boy!!!

2005-04-26T11:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my honey’s birthday!! We had our celebrations and fun over the weekend. But on the actual day, from 6.30 in the morning he was swamped with call after call. Did you thinking the calls were from family and friends to wish him?? Oh no!! They were work related conference calls. In fact his day was so hectic that family and friends gave up after a while because of busy lines. In between, someone would get thru and wish him quickly, most just left voice mails. Besides, he now has mastered the art of conferencing on one line while making short yet important calls from the other. So the land-line as well as his mobile stayed busy busy busy!!
I made his usual treat of Doodh kheer, which he very graciously reminded me about, “for 27 years before I married you, doodh kheer had been a manadatory and key element in my birthday celebrations. Could we please revive some traditions?” How could I refuse??? I enjoy cooking for him and always lament that he has no appetite for anything sweet. And when he does ask for something sweet, would I refuse?? So I made his favorite meal, with his favorite dishes and the kheer as well. He gobbled his lunch in 10 mins while looking that the kitchen clock, grinning at me and blowing me fishie faced kisses alternately. And after the hectic day he had, he was left with an hour to pack his suitcase, shower and change before his taxi came. Yet another short trip but I am not complaining…it could be far worse. So while he said goodbye, he took another conference call. As I watched the taxi leave our driveway, I was filled with so much peace. Peace you ask??? I’ll tell you why!!

While most you reading this would think that he is a workaholic and comment about the sad way the busy birthday was spent, I was thinking about how hard he works for us. On most days he is up at the crack of dawn working, while I am still mumbling in my sleep about something that I am writing, he is kissing me to say “good morning, see you later…I am off to work”. The weekends are strictly for me and the home. Each weekend is packed with tons of activities, chores and pampering, so I never complain. In spite of his busy days, he finds occasions to call me, sometimes for no reason at all. He makes at least 15 calls a day and each time he has to be at some superb place without me, he makes sure to call me tell me how much he misses me. Ok…the man just is crazy about me!!!! And I am so so so blessed!!! His sole focus is making his family comfortable and our lives secure and on that endeavor, he toils ceaselessly! And I make sure my appreciation and admiration is communicated, but even on the days that I forget, his drive never dips. Amazing!!

Over the years, he has loved me with everything in him. And while reading DW’s Musings 15, I could not help but be reminded of this one incident early in my courtship with hubby. Even when we were ‘just friends’, he was always taking care of me and my honour!

We lived in the same neighborhood, well we were neighbours. And those days I had a kinetic honda that I whizzed around on. On one particular day, I was riding back from the local bakery with bread and veggie puffs (which the locals insist on calling pups!), when a couple of streets before ours, I was stopped in the middle of the road by 2 young men. They were drunk and I just happened to be the one to get caught. One man stood in front of my bike and held the handle bars, so I would not take off. The other man came right next to me, pulled off my clip from my hair, took a lock of my just shampooed and blow dried kesh raashi and sniffed in typical kannada movie style. Now I was scared!!! But I stayed calm and knowing that they were drunk, did not try any stunts, lest I end up killing them or something….and luckily someone they knew came along and dragged them away while grinning at me. Some vague comment was made and I rode back home. Till then I was calm. But the moment I parked I started shivering and since I was right under hubby’s window, I looked up. The tears welling up in my eyes were enough for him, he came running out to find out what happened. When I told him, he took me into my house and started interrogating me about Who? What? Where? I could see he was livid and knowing him well, I knew what he was thinking. My dad was in shock that such a thing could happen to daughter. I had 2 cousins who had just dropped in say hello and they were watching open mouthed. They had never seen a neighbour boy flexing his muscles and fists angrily because the neighbour girl was accosted on the road.

While dad was alternating between telling me I should not be riding on the roads and telling Hubbs that he should not be trying to hit others, Hubbs was getting angrier at my father and cousins. He mumbled something about do what suits you and then hissed at me angrily, “don’t u dare cry!!”. The tears got frightened and disappeared. Then he caught hold of my wrist and dragged me off. With each big step he took, I tottered behind him with 3 small steps. He took me to the exact same spot and pointed to a couple of guys at a nearby playground and asked if that was them. I nodded in affirmation, tears welling up my eyes again. He asked me to stay put where I was and went off to confront them. He had lived in the area for many years and knew each and every guy around there. He went up to the 3 people, asked some questions calmly and soon was slapping the 2 of them silly. What neither of us noticed were the 2 cricket teams sitting nearby. They were friends of the hair smeller and they came rushing to defend their drunken friends. Hubbs did not back down, he landed quite a punch and made sure he was in a position where no more that 3 people came towards him….(don’t ask me how…ask him! I have never fought with 20 odd people before!))

One of the things about casual gang wars in the Bangalore of yore was that they were respectful even while hitting one another. Besides, they knew who Hubbs was, knew that his grandfather was in the Forensics, that his uncle was a well known lawyer..etc etc. After some 10 mins, they were all pushing and pulling each other. Clothes were getting ripped off, hair was being pulled. It just seemed like a huge tug of war and I heard the odd thwack and grunting as well. By now my cousins were by me and we were all watching open mouthed. I was asking them to intervene when out of the corner of my eye I saw a batsman taking a swing at Hubb’s head with a cricket bat. That did it!! I could not watch anymore….I was going to jump in to save Hubbs, as soon as I had freed myself from my cousin’s sudden restrictive embrace. As quickly as it had begun, it got over. Just like that…they were saying peace and making V signs and apologizing to Hubbs and hitting hair smeller on the back of his head. I still don’t know what happened. But there was camaraderie, even respect.

As we went back to my house, I scrambled for dettol and cotton. Dad and cousins were trying to lecture Hubbs and reason with him.
Dad: “You should not hit them. We could have talked to them”
Hubbs: “You talk to them Uncle…in your classrooms they will listen, not on the roads”
Dad: “But fighting is not the solution. It serves no purpose”
Hubbs: “so what should I do then? Just watch while they disrespect my best friend?”
Dad: “We should have talked to them. We could have explained that what they were doing was wrong.”
Hubbs retorted hotly: “yeah, you can negotiate with rapists and murderers, I can’t!”

This was the first time in my family there was an incident as violent as this and my cousins and Dad simply did not know how to react!!!

And while I was applying dettol on Hubbs’s, fingers and knees, I was livid and confused. I was scared too…what if the he had gotten hurt seriously?? what if the bat had landed on his head???

Me: “so what was all the pushing and pulling about? Is that how people really fight?”
Him: confused look
Me: “yeah, I mean I did not even hear ‘dishum-dishum’”
Him: Jaw drop
Me: “I mean, I was expecting to hear a nice thud while you socked that bugger on his jaw. All I heard was thwack”
Him: glaring angrily at me. “I just fought 2 cricket teams coz one idjit wanted to act fresh with you and all you can think of is dishum??? Maybe if that bat swinging monkey had cracked my skull you would have been happy!”
Me: tears welling up at the thought again
Him: Softening when he realised I was trying to ligthen the moment. “Anyway, when you hit people you never hear dishum. You should know that better than anyone. After all you hit all the time"
Me: grinning and giggling
Him: beginning to grin and then flinching when the dettol soaked piece of cotton got him off guard at a rather bloody cut.
Dad: still confused, but smiling
Cousins: still confused but pondering what the chemistry between us was about.

Later that evening, the entire gang of cricketers came and apologized to me. Hubbs had lost a gold chain during the tussle…they looked for it and returned it. When Hubbs’ uncle heard what happened, he came over and asked Hubbs angrily, “could you not have called me as well!! Its been so long since we were in a good fight!!”. Of course Hubbs’ parents were wondering why their son was fighting like a mad man for the neighbour’s daughter…little did they know then. Little did we know, then!!

And that one act of defending me gave Hubbs more than brownie points. But then over the course of years, there have been so many similar incidents…and I have been protected, fought for, defended and loved every single time. But make no mistake; he is no street fighter, he never was. Eventually I managed to get him to control that fist, but the intimidation he employs now is even more intense. And I am just so proud of him!!

After a week, he asked me why I was not riding my bike around. I had no explanation. We spoke about fear and unjustifiable guilt. And I rode my bike again….I’ve always wondered why we did not grow up together. I would have been a better person!!

And now he fights for us in corporate America. Sigh!! He just called an hour ago to tell me he had a lousy flight. All because he wanted to be with me on his b’day and hence he decided on a red eye. I am so proud of him…did I say that already??

Romancing the Old.....

2005-04-22T09:33:00.000-07:00

The past few days I have been grooving and grooving to all sorts of music. There seems to be so much to listen to and even more to write/talk about. Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha Franklin, Tony Bennet, Louis Armstrong, Ray Charles, Lou Rawls, Little Richard, Etta James, Gladys Knight, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly…….the list goes on and on.

Simply put these oldies are the most beautiful, romantic songs ever written. Each song is a star in the skies that will just shine forever. Not one is replaceable and not one is forgettable. And all you young un’s, these are the songs to woo your sweethearts with. There is not one occasion for which a song is not available. These performers are the masters of life, love and heartache!!
No Avril Lavigne or GnR or Beyonce or Usher can replace this gold!! This is classic, vintage…the kind of music you listen to and listen to and then… touch your index finger to your thumb to make an ‘O’, kiss the junction of the index and thumb and then move them away from your mouth and separate the fingers….while your mind says…fantabulous, bellissimo…!! It’s like fine wine, a beautiful woman, a perfect moment….superb!!

But for the time being, I am going to stay on terra firma (as much as the lovely voice I am hearing will allow) and speak of the one singer I am enjoying right now….

Michael Buble. All of 25, from Vancouver, Canada, silken voice, wonderful with the sweet swing, that I am so very attached to. Read more about him yourself – here! He is incredibly charming for his age and seems grounded as well.

Sometime last year, while looking for some good old music, I came across his album named after himself. I heard the clips they had on the site and then took a chance, hoping that my $18 would be worth the music. I was buying old songs in a new voice, after all!!

Well, I am very happy to announce that I was not disappointed. In fact I was/am thrilled!! I highly recommend Buble to any swing enthusiast. He has just come out with a new album called ‘Its time’. From the audio clips I’ve already listened to, I know I am going to buy this one as well.

The Album titled Michael Buble has a wonderful collection of songs. While I love all the originals, I find that the newer renditions have an irresistible charm of their own. Classic contemporary, I believe is what its called!! (The Executive Producer is Paul Anka! Remember??...Ok kiddie poohs, time to get educated!!)

Right Ho! Now on to the music……

*With Fever, I find Michael’s voice just sneaking up on my senses. I automatically want to turn down the lights and dance with my imaginary serenader. Forget all the zillions of videos already made on this song, I create my own.

Fever - till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn.

* First get Fevered up and then Moondance is the only thing that makes sense…..Its one of my favorite songs…err…I have way too many favorites, I know I know!!

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
'Neath the cover of October skies……

Ok! That one has me swinging, smiling, and dreaming!! Off I go into October skies with my heart full of smooth desires….

* And now I find myself at a quiet bar, with just a few people, I hear the pianist sing the song with familiar pain and notes. Kissing a fool is just so sweet and with each note that soars in my head; my heart feels somehow light and heavy at the same time.

Fooled me with the tears in your eyes
Covered me with kisses and lies

I sway gently imagining something romantically sad. And I walk past the street lamp into the dark lonely night with a slow 3 step walk.

* Next, with the booming horns, begins the song that brings with it images of a glorious summer afternoon wedding. The groom looks intently, sweetly, passionately into his bride’s teary eyes and leads her in the perfect first dance…and they both think and feel the song in their throbbing hearts together.

For Once in My Life
For once I can say
This is mine, you can't take it
As long as I've got love
I know I can make it

* Heartbreak and love can’t stay away from each other. They were wed before any man and woman ever was….How can you mend a broken heart has a way of making me feel emotions that just does not belong in my life right now. How can you want to mend a broken heart when your heart is not broken? Well, that’s how good this song is!! I have heard so many people perform this song and every time…I hug a pillow or a book or a glass of water and sigh deeply while struggling to……..

….keep the rain from falling down.
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?

* Oooh the Summer Wind, came blowin' in - from across the sea
It lingered there, so warm and fair - to walk with me…………..
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind

With soft summer smiles, it makes me kick up some sand and wrap my arms around myself on warm summer nights, while my imaginary serenader sings it for me, from some far far dream land.

* Uff, this next song gives me the sweetest, most indescribably feeling in my heart. I feel so loved every time I hear this song. And Michael has the one of the most perfect voices for love songs.

And You’ll Never find Another Love Like Mine!
No, I'm not braggin' on myself, baby
But I'm the one who loves you
And there's no one else! No one else!

* Next in line is -

This thing called love I just can't handle it
This thing called love I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love

And I am not complaining. I never complain if I can jive!! My fingers snap and my feet tap out the rhythm and my shoes stamp the wooden floors with more good times.

* But the next song has me floating in my fantastical world again……feeling in love, falling in love, over and over again!

Put Your Head On My Shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby
Squeeze me oh so tight
Show me that you love me too.

Tender kisses, whispered nothings, maybes and maybe nots….sighs!!

* Now you start swaying with Sway…..

When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me

Now don’t tell me you can hear that song and not sway!! I am yet to meet a person who does not feel the impulse to jump up and try some sort of a jig, when they hear this song.

* This one has to be a classic walk down the curved marble staircase. Dressed in a pretty evening dress, among the clinking of wine glasses and muted laughter, the whole room fades out softly and he only has eyes for her….while his lips curve into a wickedly charming smile, her heart skips a beat.

Some day, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight.

Listen to the song and you’ll know what I mean!

* Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

That’s the honey moon song that follows the previous one! I want to travel the world….I know I will always have that one on hand to listen to. So even if I travel alone, I won’t be alone.

* And the perfect finale to this entire ensemble is That’s All.

I can only give you love that lasts forever,
And a promise to be near each time you call.

With this song fresh in my heart, the promises renewed and love re-stated…I remain content and dreamy eyed.

Hmmm with the perfect mood now, perhaps its time to whip out some Barry White…Oh Hubbs honey!! Where are you???

Max Erhmann's Desiderata

2005-04-21T10:24:00.000-07:00

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

This poem by Max Ehrmann, was sent to me by DW. Thanks Dee…I did like it and so am posting it for all to enjoy!! I am thankful for the…err…continued education…Proffy!
Indeed the wisdom in this poem is desiderata. (Desiderata = something highly desirable or necessary).

When I first read it, I thought the poet had gleaned a lot from his reading of the Proverbs from his Bible…and then I could also imagine my grandparents, one on either side of me, passing on some love and wisdom….it just has that lovely preachy tone which is completely encapsulated in authoritative love. You read/hear something like this and you know it’s better for you to take it in the right spirit.

Perhaps we should all read it and read it often. Especially when we are on the brink of another emotional boilover….:-)))))

Shashi Tharoor's Poetry

2005-04-20T17:49:00.000-07:00

What with all the ranting about timely rejoinders and love letters about the precision or the lack of it in poetry, and Vivek reminding me about Shashi Tharoor...I just had to go to his site and dig this poem out. And this was just on DSS

The other reason for this poem to appear here is PriyaSivan's very well written Momentary Emotions and Helplessness.

Well....enjoy!! Vivek also tells me this poem is from The Riot!!

Advice to Officialdom: How to Sleep At Night

Try to think of nothing.
That's the secret.

Try to think of nothing.
Do not think of work not done,
of promises unkept, calls to return,
or agendas you have failed to prepare for meetings
yet unheld.

Think of nothing.
Do not think of words said and unsaid,
of minor scandals and major investigations,
of humiliations endured, insults suffered,
or retorts that did not spring to mind
in time.

Think of nothing.
Do not think of your forgotten wife,
of lonely children and their reproachful demands,
or the smile of the pretty woman
whose handshake lingered just a shade too long
in your palm.

Think of nothing.
Do not think of newspaper headlines,
of the insistent transience of the InfoNet,
or the seductive stridency of the TV microphones
thrust so thrillingly
into your face.

Think of nothing.
Do not think of the waif on the foreign sidewalk,
her large eyes open in supplication,
her ragged shift stained by dirt and dust,
stretching her despairing hand toward you
in hope.

No, do not think
of the woman at the building site,
wobbling pan of stones on her head,
walking numb for the thousandth time
from pile to site and site to pile
as her neglected baby scrabbles in the dust,
eats sand and wails,
unheard.

Think of nothing.
Do not think of the starving infant,
parched lips mute in hunger,
sitting slumped in the mud,
his eyes fading before his heart.
Do not think
of the stark ribs of skeletal cattle,
unable to provide milk, or hope,
in drought-dried lands of which
you know nothing.

Think of nothing.
Do not think
of the dead-eyed refugee, dispossessed
of everything he once called home.
Do not think
of the unsmiling girl whose once-sturdy thigh
now ends at the knee, the rest blown off
by a thoughtless mine on her way
to the well.

No, do not think
of the solitary tear, the broken limb,
the rubble-strewn home, the choking scream;
never think
of piled-up bodies, blazing flames,
shattered lives, or sundered souls.
Do not think of the triumph of the torturer,
the wails of the hungry,
the screams of the mutilated,
or the indifferent smirk
of the sleek.

Think of nothing.
Then you will be able
to sleep.

scrub-a-dub-dub till its squeeky clean!!

2005-04-20T17:46:00.000-07:00

Women clean a lot!!

They clean their kitchens, their bathrooms…especially when upset. Now I am not talking of the routine cleaning that every home needs on a day to day basis. I am talking of women using the process of cleaning, scrubbing and making some thing/place spotless and perfect, for cathartic reasons. I have spoken to my girl friends about this and most of them concur that this is what they typically do when they are stark raving mad, frustrated or sad and have no other way to show it!!

I am reminded of my Mother when I was younger, as well as my many aunts and aunties. I recollect that every single time Ma and Pa had an argument/disagreement; there would be a certain pattern to the whole production that ensued. Sure, the banging vessels are almost a mandatory feature. I am sure every family has such memories in wholesale quantities!! Err…you say your family never had such episodes?? Of course not!! You all have the most wonderful families!

Well coming back to the topic…so there was the banging of vessels and other things, followed by the litany of murmurs and baritone monologues that were supposed to hit a mark and make an impact. Of course, as the norm demands, the person who is at the receiving end of such ‘messages’ by now has switched off his mind and ears and is now staring vacantly into a space(s) that is seemingly safe. After the banging and loud reorganizing of an assortment of dabbas with all sorts of grains and spices, and/or the papers, mails, book cases, closets etc, comes the verbal lull! It is precisely at this moment, that the utensils are traded for the sponge/scrub/duster.

I can recollect countless episodes where I myself have spent hours just cleaning my 2 burner gas stove back in India, right after the maid had done a pretty good job of it. I recollect obsessing over the bathroom tiles and the irremovable brown spots in the grout between the tiles. I recollect my pathetic delight when I first came to the US and saw the cleaning supplies aisle in the grocery store. I was ecstatic!! (I know its pathetic, no need to rub it in!!) They had so many cleaning agents…for the windows, for the kitchen, for tough stains, for grease, for delicate surfaces, for floors, in orange scents, and apple…even grapefruit!! I was soon stuffing my cleaning supplies cabinet with these goodies…and not to mention our laundry detergents, fabric softeners, bleach, toilet cleaners, tub n tile cleaners as well as the no-scum after shower sprayers, the dishwasher detergents…etc etc all came and still come from Costco. I have more cleaning supplies in my garage than utensils to cook with!!

It all came as one big shock to me, when one day I caught myself rather angry with my Hubbs over something. While he chose to go to work and get over the episode, I chose to clean. As I donned my yellow rubber gloves, and sprayed my stove with Orange Clean All Purpose Cleaner, I suddenly noticed that the stove looked clean as it was. With mild irritation, I wiped it clean and then went to the bathroom. The tub did require scrubbing, so I started off….and midway I asked myself if I would be doing this, had it not been for the argument we had had. To my own surprise, the answer was ‘NO’. Since then I have thought about this on and off…and come to some conclusions of my own.

We use such opportunities to wallow in our miseries and indulge in pity parties. In the process of cleaning we pity ourselves with thought statements like, “see how much I do, and all he can do is watch TV or go to his office!”, or “This is all I am! A glorified house maid”, “I do so much, do I even get one word of appreciation!” etc!! Come now ladies, be honest! We’ve all been there, there’s no shame in admitting that!! This is also the time we are reminded of our maids back in India. We forget for a minute the number of times we yelled at her for being tardy or inefficient. Instead we miss them so much that we shed a few tears of love. Also the perfect time to lament the fact that maids in the US are so expensive, perhaps even get angrier by asking ourselves why the husbands cannot see the desperate need to dispense the $100 a month to have the toilets cleaned and carpets vacuumed. We simply end up feeling worse and bitterer!

When I realized what I was doing, I stopped cleaning while in an upset mood. Now, when I am upset, I write, or take a walk or do anything else…but I refuse to clean!! As a result, my house is not as spotless and shiny as it used to be. (Sort of gives away the fact that I (used to) get upset a lot!) But then, I don’t mind!! I am not as obsessive as before and that to me is a healthier state of mind. So, when Hubbs does not put away his cereal bowl in the kitchen sink or the dishwasher, I don’t mind so terribly anymore. (Don’t tell anyone that right now I am singularly obsessed about cleaning my cluttered garage, can’t wait for a sunny day on a weekend!)

However, my pondering about the connection between cleaning and upset women has not stopped. Is it because we model after other similar women that we end up being such beings?? Do we get conditioned at an early age? Or is it because we get domesticated? Is it some primitive instinct in us that makes us go for that sponge like it’s the only hope left for us?

This whole process makes women in general sound pathetic and hopeless!! I am sure many of you will scream at me and say ‘get a life!!’ But it’s the truth!! A lot of women world over are like this….and is time to reach out to them!! As odd and funny as this seems, it may even save many a marriage from the brink of destruction!!

How Chay, can I save my marriage, you ask?? I’ll tell you how!! Throw away those sponges you all…be liberated henceforth from the scrub-monster that feeds on all the anger and frustration. Find better ways to vent!! Write!!!

Ok I better stop rambling! I think I lost my point a long time back!!

Love Actually!!

2005-04-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

Just saw the movie Love Actually for the second time.

The first time I saw, it was around Christmas last year, cuddled up under our Christmassy blanket, with hubby’s warm arms around me. There was plenty of hot chocolate topped with mini-marshmallows, cookies, snacks, truffles and my very special Christmas cake, the many Christmas lights twinkling ever so charmingly, warming up the house and our hearts, inside and out. Towards the end of the movie we both were grinning and crying tears of joy when Jamie proposed marriage to Aurelia in Portuguese and she accepted in English….we both let out loud whoops of joy when little Sam dashed across airport security to tell the love of his life that he loved her. We both felt the pains and heartaches. We both felt the simple love that the picture spoke about…A simply superb flick!!

Please do watch this picture, if you have not already watched it. Other reasons I liked the movie – Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Liam Neeson, Emma Thompson, Hugh Grant, interwoven love stories across the British society, tasteful mocking of the American President and American bimbettes, Hugh Grant, great and effective music, some wonderful dialogues, Hugh Grant, and Christmas, of course!! It’s yet another great romantic comedy. I am so totally in love with most of director/screen writer Richard Curtis’s British romantic movies …Notting Hill, Bridget Jones and all her diaries, Four Weddings and a Funeral….did you notice all the movies I mentioned have Hugh Grant??? Oh! And Colin Firth as well!! Charming…both of them! (Chay blushing gently and fluttering eyelashes. Ufff pa!!))

Well anyway, I am Hugh Granting….err…beg your pardon!! I meant digressing. (get a grip girl!!)

This second time I saw the movie, I was alone. I chose to watch it in the middle of the day. But it just so happens that as many love stories as this movie had, there was not one that I could relate to my life at this very point of time. That left me rather alarmed, but at least it pointed me towards the right train of thought, and for me that’s always a good thing. Yet again in my life…a make-believe movie is helping me determine something terribly important. Aahhh, the irony of it all!!

Hugh Grant in his gorgeous voice and accent says the opening lines….
“Love Actually… is… all… around!!”
And I ask myself, “do you see it??”
Oh yess oh yess oh yess I do. It is there alright!!
However, the buts…ifs…they abound and confound!!
Like Sam says in the movie…what’s worse than the total agony of being in love?

Imagine This!!

2005-04-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

Imagine this!!

She is dressed in a gorgeous Kanjeevaram – not with the traditional zari work, but a simple, elegant one with a soft lustre and a rich colour. It is draped perfectly, the pleats are like a waterfall at her feet with every step she takes, the pallu drapes a shoulder delicately, and her thin waist is highlighted, curving sensually! The sleeve of the blouse sits on her smooth arm and the low back shows off the glowing softness of her skin. And on her back are strands of red from an intricately designed, yet simple kundan necklace that adorns her pretty neck. Just one pretty bracelet on each wrist and elegant kundan jhumkas with tiny pearls play hide and seek with hair cascading down her shoulders in luxurious tumbles and waves. She looks so natural with kajal lining her eyes, the lashes carrying just a tiny bit of mascara, a nude shade of lipstick and a touch of shimmering gloss. She has simple strappy sandals; the ankles are adorned with delicate payals that make the slightest of tinkles, all set off by pretty toenails in light pink…just like the pretty feet in the ads. The dabs of perfume on her neck and wrist waft ahead and announce her arrival. She is looking so fine!!! This is the look that dazzles and captivates many a heart. Her confidence is what makes her sexy and she knows it. She feels so peaceful and certain that this will be a great evening!! Maybe her bewitching smile will win some heart worthy of her attention tonight and a new fairy tale will be created. A mischievous smile lights up her eyes as her manicured fingers with a lone sparkling solitaire reach for the door. They are pulled open for her by a huge man in jeans and a flowery shirt. She politely smiles and says “thank you” and walks in. She enters the doors...and the look on her face changes from one of peace and expectancy to a blank one.

Everyone there is dressed differently. The men are wearing tight tees, leather pants, jeans and short transparent kurtas….the women are in hipsters, tubes, minis and oddly shaped strips of cloth. The music is ear shattering, heart thumping - a dhung dhung dhunging mixture of rap and techno and what not!! The DJ is trippin’ and the crowd is groovin’. The drinks are flowin’, the bar is crowded. The air smells of cigarette smoke and liquor. The faint sweetish smell of marijuana floats from some distant corner. The people have shed inhibitions and are making out everywhere…the soft muted lights mingled with the flashing disco lights and smoke make it hard to see who is who. A drunken girl that’s passing by bumps into a post loses her balance and falls on the floor. A man sitting on a nearby barstool picks her up and smacks her bottom and they laugh raucously.

And then, one by one….they stop doing their thing and start looking at her. They point fingers and ask questions. Their jaws are hanging and by the look on their faces, she becomes terribly distressed. Somewhere in a corner a snigger starts and soon the ripples of laughter turn into a minor tsunami of derision and humiliation!! She is mortified, as some people start making cat calls and nasty comments. They mention some names, associate her with some characteristics…they judge her!! As she stands there seemingly glued to the floor, she is at a complete loss for words or motion.

Now imagine this!!

She is dressed in the cutest short skirt that sits right at the middle of her thigh. She has sexy long legs that are accentuated by the hippest strappy sandals. A lone anklet adorns her pedicured feet. Her tank top is just perfect near your navel…now you see it, now you don’t! A real tease!! The backless halter top she is wearing glitters and shimmers delicately and the fabric ripples against her skin. Her hair is layered and smoothed, but kinked at all the right places perfectly! Eyes have just a tiny touch of kohl and smoky blue eye shadow; lips are perfectly lined and glossed to a shiny bright red. Just like the models. A small cute purse that is too tiny to hold anything but some lip gloss and credit cards hangs delicately from her shoulder, her French manicured fingers caressing the strap casually, a single platinum bracelet sits snugly against the wrist. Delicate feathery earrings float in the air as she walks. Her confidence is her oomph! She knows she will have a great evening! And the wicked, sensual smile says that she might just find some guy interesting enough to share her coffee in her yellow mug tomorrow morning. As she walks towards the door, a young man wearing a kurta walks out and holds the door till she walks in. The look on his face pleases her, so she makes eye contact and huskily says ‘thank you’! She enters…and the look on her face changes from one of sexiness to one of fright.

Everyone there is dressed differently. The men are wearing silk/cotton kurtas/kurtis, waistcoats, salwars and ironed jeans. The women are in valkalams, pashminas, khadi silk long skirts and hand painted silk/cotton kurtis. The music is a jugalbandi between Pt. Hariprasad Chaurasia, Pt. Shiv Kumar Sharma and Ustad Alla Rakha. The people are all in groups across the room. The conversation varies from philosophy to literature to NGOs to the latest theatre production. The bar carries fine drinks and the finger foods are served by turbaned waiters in closed neck kurtas. Above the music and the snippets of conversation a random guffaw or giggle is heard from every other corner. In the group that is closest to the door, a stylish looking spectacled man offers everyone cigarettes from his silver case and lights them one by one, starting with the short-haired woman to his right. As she raises her head, and sees her. She taps the bearded man to her right and they all turn towards her.

And then, one by one….they stop doing their thing and start looking at her. They look at her with a shocked expression, smile politely, look away quickly and talk about her. They ask one another if they know her, they whisper conspiratorially. The look at her legs and she suddenly feels naked. While she smiles nervously wondering if now is a good time to turn around and run, someone walks towards her and says, “Arrey Beta, why are you still by the door, do come in? Where are dad & mom??”

Did you imagine that?

Now there can be 3 different conclusions/endings to these situations. Let’s explore all three, shall we?

First ending:

The Kanjeevaram clad woman took the plunge, found a friend in the disco and made some more new friends. She hitched up her saree delicately, tucked her pallu in her waist, drank coke instead of the usual red wine and danced till the early morning hours. She did find an interesting conversationalist, learnt a few new dance moves and slangs, she accepted compliments and jokes about her saree with equal wit and grace and she forgot all about the party she was supposed to go to.

The hip woman allowed to be introduced to people, made smart conversation, flirted lesser than she would normally have and drank cocktails instead of tequila. She made good conversation with the director of a local NGO and humbly admitted her lack of understanding of Hindustani classical music. When invited to a play the following week, she accepted with grace and forgot all about the party she was supposed to go to.

Now while these two women are confident, sexy and intelligent, they have their own personalities. Given the need, they can be comfortable in both atmospheres and carry themselves off with natural charm and wit. However, dressed as they are, they cannot be in the wrong party without being judged. Knowing that, they gracefully come through as mature and wise women, making the most of every situation. Clearly they are what we would call winners.

Second ending:

The Kanjeevaram clad woman bursts into tears, runs out of the disco and bumps into the huge bouncer. When he tries to steady her, she gets a fright and screams at him to leave her alone. Well…she loses it!

The hip woman stutters and says that she came alone. Then she spends the rest of the evening pulling her skirt down in some hope that her nakedness will not be noticed. A middle aged woman stops her and tells her she should not be wearing such clothes. Most of the men stare and letch, most of the women look away embarrassed. After a while she loses it, yells at some one, and uses some foul language and runs out angry and crying.
It’s the same women alright…with the exact same confidence, sexiness and intelligence. But they loose their head, cool, tempers and respect.

Third ending:

The Kanjeevaram clad woman, laughs along with the crowd, says, “Oh what a phat party!! It’s a pity I am at the wrong one. Well perhaps I can join you the next time!!” She turns around and walks out with a cheerful smile and composure.
The hip woman says, “Oh, I am so sorry! I think I came to the wrong address! But this looks swell!! Well, enjoy yourselves, everyone!!” She turns around and walks out with a cheerful smile and composure.

It’s the same women again…with the exact same confidence, sexiness and intelligence, yet again. But they choose to handle this situation with grace, dignity and good manners.

I do have a point I assure you!!

Its simple….if you want to attend a certain party, dress/behave appropriately. It does not mean you change your self as a person, just that you behave/converse in accordance with the in house rules/boundaries. If for some reason, there is a goof up and you do end up at the wrong party…either be smart enough to make the most of the situation, or exit with grace. If you can do neither, then be prepared for the consequences that arise from your behaviour.

To be more general and more importantly so - …these things apply in every walk of our lives….our behaviours, our attitudes & thoughts, and what we do with them, is what makes…or breaks us. The choice really is ours!!

At every important crossroad of my life, I find myself becoming less volatile and more focused. And I think it’s important for us to be encouragers rather than critiques. Again, that’s a personal choice each of us makes for ourselves…exclusively our own!

Do read this is good cheer!!
And with plenty of salt…a must for tequila!!
If nothing else, at least enjoy my writing!!

Cheers!!

99.9 FM - Pleasant Blend!!

2005-04-09T15:23:00.000-07:00

In my quest for some new music to listen to, I came across a Hindi movie album on Raaga.com. I did not know there was a new Hindi movie called 99.9 FM. But then, I am no authority on movies. From what I gathered over from an assortment of Bollywood websites, this is a movie about radio jockeys and the movie has no producer!! I figured the movie is not yet released when I found no movie reviews and a just a couple of music reviews.

As I looked at the list of artists on this album, I was impressed! The movie track is a definite aberration from the stereotype – the album has a medley of artists with a wide assortment of music. It is also highly uncharacteristic of typical Indian movie soundtracks, with only 2 of its numbers being produced exclusively for the movie. That had me interested, alright!!

The Album starts with Kate Nahi Raat, by Ustad Sultan Khan. Known more famously for his mastery over the Saarangi, his repertoire includes singing as well. The song is very well rendered and this piece has some beautiful Saarangi and piano work. A wonderful beginning to this album!!

Biddu 'booms' next with Nirvana. There are just a few bits of conventionally styled violin-flute music and that was a bit disappointing. It has a retro-pop feel to it that is appealing.

Zila Khan follows with Kesariya – Beautiful!! The daughter of Ustad Vilayat Ali Khan, Zila Khan has given a very soulful rendition of this common Rajasthani folk song, in the Mand Raaga. The song itself was popularized by Lata Mangeshkar in Lekin. Zila’s version definitely brings new meaning and depth to this song.

Shubha Mudgal’s Intezaar is next. A contemporary fusion piece with some verse recital, it is laced with some jazz. Shubha’s rich voice amplifies the painful process of waiting. The lyrics by Prasoon Joshi are poignant - aayega who dhoop ka tukda ik din meer dwaar.

Shaan’s Tanha Dil carries the same mood in a lighter note. It’s a perfect blend on nostalgia and youthfulness. Also featured from the same compilation is Ghumsum. Both the songs are airy yet touch all the right chords in your heart. Enjoyable!

Usha Uthup sings Sau Feesadi – one of the 2 songs composed by Piyush Khanojia for the movie. The music itself is too funky for my taste and the zest that normally accompanies Usha’s songs was missing.

This compilation of maestros has been graced by the immortal voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan as well. Sanoon Ek Pal reverberates through the atmosphere as you conjure images of old world courtship in the yellow fields of Punjab.

The Biddu connection comes back into the album with Zoheb Hassan’s Muskuraaye Jaa with the unmistakable 80’s Disco theme!! This song is originally from the Hindi Movie Star starring Kumar Gaurav & Rati Agnihotri. I had forgotten the movie, but then who can forget Nazia & Zoheb, the Pakistani brother sister duo who popularized pop!! Biddu is the true pioneer of Indi-pop as we know it today.

Movement- by Sum - (Sumangali) was next. I found a bit of a disconnect in this piece. It sounds close to Taufiq’s percussion ensembles, but does have its own resonance. Raindance – is the other piece of music - a contemporary percussion medley. Frankly, I've heard them perform better music. Besides, there was an attempt to bring an orphic mystical element, and it jars a bit. It’s definitely worth watching this group.

Shubha’s strong voice follows in Is Pal – Has a bit of a Caribbean-Calypso touch – can hear some pan drumming in the background. Good fusion! ....banjaare armaan hain, awara sapne hain
Exceptional singing, the Prasoon Joshi-Shantanu Moitra-Shubha Mudgal collaboration never fails!

The other number by Shubha is Chori Chori – pop fusion. It showcases her versatility. The song itself is beautiful, but the music does not do justice to Shubha’s singing or the lyrics.

Zia Mohyeddin recites some wonderful Urdu verse by Faiz Ahmed Faiz. Zia Saab’s powerful voice intensifies every emotion that one tends to feel while listening to such poetry. When he recites Tun Na aaye to har cheez each word paints the many colours of love. And in Yeh Mujhe Azeez bhi aur Napasand, one feels the sheer bitter-sweet agony of life. The simplicity and eloquence with which these few lines have been recited left me with goose bumps. I am unable to say which is better – the poetry or the recital. Language, indeed, is no boundary!!

They always save the best for last!! Pt. Bhimsen Joshi!! Yes!! Pt. Bhimsen Joshi sings his famous Bhajan in Bhairavi - Jo Bhaje Hari Ko Sada. Needless to say, he is wonderful!! And as expected, it triggered off many memories of ‘Dasara Padas’ and all the music and verses came tumbling down from the old memory cupboard. Nostalgia in vernacular Kannada!! If you have not already heard his Bhajans in Kannada, I recommend it.

The entire album ends with another of Piyush Khanojia’s compositions for the movie. It is a nice instrumental piece which blends well into the background. I can’t help but wonder if that is where it is used.

The complete injustice to both of Zia Mohyeddin’s poetry recitals is in the way in which the songs have been placed. The heavy poems sandwich Shaan’s Ghumsum, and are followed by the rather funky Chori Chori. While the mood of Ghumsum might be more or less the same, it completely diffuses the intensity of the Urdu poetry.

It is a real pleasure to see Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Zia Mohyeddin, Shubha Mudgal, Ustad Sultan Khan, Zila Khan, Shaan and Biddu all on the same stage, sharing the same passion. It is truly glorious that a time has come when the most authentic and popular genre of Indian music can be so well integrated with the most powerful entertainment media in the country, in such a holistic manner. I look forward to similar harmonious & complementary synthesis.

Enjoy!!

Chay Says Hey!!!

2005-04-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

This is my Intro Blog for DSS. Do visit there.... the craic is on!!

The party is in full swing! The saxophone and clarinet can be heard from quite a distance. The live band has everyone grooving on the dance floor. The mood sure is festive!! As expected I am a bit late. Right above the door is a big banner which reads “Dud Sea Scrawls – Putting the Cipher back in Decipher”. As I walk in, a great samba starts off. I watch with a huge grin on my face as accomplished dancers sweep the floors with aplomb and enthusiasm.

As I look around, I spot a few familiar faces, most are new. Or is it just that I am new? But my feet have found their rhythm already. I pick up a glass of bubbly from a passing salver and make my way further into the party. I see SSM on the far side of the room, grin on face, conversing with someone I don’t know. SSM hey there!! I wave and he waves back.

Oh look!! Geebs is right around the corner!! As I make my way towards her, I notice Cheti’s with her as well. They are chit chatting about the juniors and their antics. Geebs Maami, you look grand tonight!! Cheti, long time no see!! What new questions are you answering these days??

I excuse myself and walk towards a rather merry group. And why wouldn’t they be merry, they are talking about some Saturday fantasies!! Humsafar is turning all shades of red while the others are teasing her. A warm hug for Top Kapi and Soy, I am meeting you both after a long time. Hi Ascii, Its been a while since we met as well!!

I see Ananthu who is gesturing me to join him. As I make my way towards him, I notice Yosso, Ooops! I mean Ubermensch, lost in deep contemplation, the look in his eyes intensifies with the conversation, but I can’t see who he is talking with. There’s Ardra talking animatedly with Choc/Priya. I wave and blow them both kisses. LL and Void are in a serious discussion over men, women and their IQs.

Phew! I finally reach Ananthu and he introduces me to Fizo, who gets another congratulatory hug for a fabulous start to a new series. While we are chit-chatting, Inmyeye stops by to say hello. She looks splendid in a red Banarasi. Hugs and hellos, congratulations and celebrations!!

Buck, the perfect host stops by and welcomes me warmly, but he also chides me gently for being late. I mock salute him and say, “Pardon Sir! Aye Cap’m Sir!!”

Amidst all the laughter, the champagne flows along with the jazz, more dancing, sparkling diamonds, flashing pearls, cocktails and crackers, strawberries and brie, fragrant summer flowers, soft clinking of glasses…later on some Chopin, more laughter, poetry, toasts, more wine, aching feet , singing together, soft sunrises and new friendships…. and many more parties…the craic never ends

I am not a total stranger here.
But it’s nice to be where I can belong…..
I have much to learn and a bit to share.

Le’ Chaim!!

Unexpected!! Untimely!!

2005-04-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

March 29th, 2005

Untimely!! Just when the dreariness of winter is being broken with the freshness of spring!! But spectacular no doubt!!

The clouds broke earlier and we had a spot of sunshine. And then suddenly we were hearing loud cantankerous bursts like firecrackers during Diwali! It sure was sweet!! So as Hubbs and I ran out like a couple of excited kids, the hail increased in tempo - great big balls of ice!! Its not that we have never been in snow or hail, just that it was most unexpected!!! And hence, exciting for Chay!!

In a matter of minutes the whole neighbourhood was blanketed in white, the rooftops are white, the ground beneath is crunching like no one’s business!! Awesome!!!! The little pearls were bouncing off the umbrella I was under, I was munching on some of the hail stones, and I was immediately transported to Madikeri, when I was 4, when along with Gayatri the maid, I got caught in a hail storm while on the way back from Thamaiah’s shop. We had been there for some much needed Cadbury’s, among other things. We had so much fun all way back home. Collecting the marble sized hail and wondering why they had to be cold and disappear so fast. Eating the ice and cramming more into my freezing mouth!!! What memories!!!

As Hubbs was trying to capture more memories on our cameras, I was reminded of Mrs. Goel’s famous saabu-daana khichdi that she made only during her Hare-Rama Hare-Krishna meetings. Mrs. Goel was a neighbour in one of my apartments in Bangalore. We always got a bucketful of her khichdi. Even Hubbs remarked that the little pearls reminded him of saabu-daana.

After the shock of the first 15 minutes, some Desi children came running out of one house with cardboard boxes. They were trying to sled down the street. How indigenous of them!! Another Desi family came out, mama still in her jammies and trying to stuff her daughter’s hand in a jacket’s sleeve. They ran out and played happily, the papa stuffing down fistfuls of ice down mama’s jacket!! Could not help but notice our American neighbours were in a foul mood over the weather. And none of the American kids are out on the streets playing.

As suddenly as the heaven had opened up, a small flash, muted by the gray clouds above announced the thunder that was following, the skies echoed the loud crashes and booms and my head filled up with my favorite songs of worship!!! How awesome are the wonders that God has made, how awesome is Nature, how awesome is The Maker!!!

While I am writing this, the hail has turned to rain, the sun is still managing to shine thru’ a bit. I bet there are some beautiful rainbows somewhere, beyond which are many blessings.

Blooms & Springs - Love Letters 12

2005-04-06T14:49:00.000-07:00

Another day gone by…..and with it another season gone by. Fall…winter….and now spring is here. Seasons of life – they have left me seasoned and mellow.

The ground is fallow and hard. But yet through it are springing shoots of newness. The tulips and the irises, the crocuses and the daffodils, they all gently nod their heads yet shiver in their delightful colours. Robins herald new love and the woodpecker pecks at a tall hemlock.

Everything seems like a perfect equation that is set in perfect synchrony. The long days, the short nights – all in harmonious syncopation to bring forth my life from its quiescence. The warm sunshine streaming through my sheer lace curtains kiss my eye lashes and nudge me gently. The soft fading night lights weigh heavy on the same eyelashes and lead me into the open arms of sleep. As I tip toe around my carefully built world, I find virgin nooks and corners that have never before seen light or love. With paint and glitter I decorate these sanctuaries of hope. I make new memories and write new poems. But everything I touch has already been touched by you….everything seems soiled, everything seems blessed.

Each new day, my thoughts are new. But they always begin the same way – with you. You see, the cherry tree did not die. It’s budding now and soon the whole tree will be covered with tiny white blossoms. And I so wish we had planted a fruit bearing cherry instead of this flowering one. If we had something worthwhile…it would bear fruit….it would have borne fruit.

I am in a constant state of amazement….life lives! Completely, joyfully and victoriously!!

Yours Affectionately!!

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I suppose this is the last one in the series. I really do not know if this is a good way to end it. But if I write any more love letters, I will definitely post them!!

Fall Colours - Love Letters 11

2005-04-04T12:04:00.000-07:00

You left last fall. Amidst hues of flaming oranges and reds, you left…a blazing trail of shared memories behind you. The embers that fell aside set fire to the piles of dead desires. Some of them smolder yet…And when you went, you took with you the last leaf on the crab-apple tree. Since then all the trees have been bare – the maple, the birch, even the cherry tree we planted together.

The fall colours were like royal banners…. torn by the wind, one last salute to the dying dream. And when the dream died, the roads were strewn with brown – dull dry dead! The flying leaves that escaped the rake rot in corners – decaying, dirtying the beautiful structures. What once was full of life is now rot.

The dying flames have given way to bare silence – icy and cold, reminiscent of the last few days when we lay next to each other, oceans keeping us apart. The frigid air has made the tangled blueberry bush into shards of stone. As I hacked away on remnants of moments long gone, on the patches of frost fell huge drops of bright red…were they from my bleeding heart, I wonder? The winter has numbed my senses….I have wounded my hands, not just my heart. I bind my hand and watch the miracle of healing. My body heals itself, can my heart be made whole….

The cherry tree seems to be dying; I saw mushrooms on the ground beneath it.

Your Love

Solitude - Love Letters 10

2005-04-01T09:34:00.000-08:00

I'm only human… I'm just a woman…..help me believe in what I could be…and all that I am…show me the stairway I'll have to climb…Lord for my sake… teach me to take….one day at a time….one day at a time…. just give me the strength to do every day...what I have to do…yesterday's gone …tomorrow may never be mine… show me the way…one day at a time…Lord give me the grace to live…grace to live – just to TRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGG!!!
*************

Yet another day!! This morning I was praying and singing in my sleep. Don’t ask, so what’s new? You know some things will never change. Remember that time when I woke up to find you at 3.37 am …fast asleep on your knees!!

It’s been a while since we have been apart now. But I cannot get over the habit of speaking with you. I am reminded of the time when little Nicky’s dad left and we told her that he was out of town on work. Then we proceeded to live the next month as if he were going to walk in the door at any time. We were trying to deceive a child. And now I am trying to delude myself…that you are on your way home.

It’s not terribly hard being without you. I still go about the things I always did – the bills, the taxes, the laundry and the meals. I am able to do more as well…I am doing all the things that have been on my list, one by one I am scoring it off. Living life, being more than a wife… but I do miss you. Would it have been impossible for you to stay? Was it really so hard to allow me to be more than me?
I mow the lawn now, it’s not so hard. I am now certain that the only reason you abhorred mowing was because it kept you from the other green you loved. I also bought golfing lessons...maybe its time I learned how to just connect the club to the ball…and stopped playing golf like it were cricket. And I also found a new racquet ball partner. I bought some new hiking boots as well. I changed the brand of coffee we use. I bought you some new white dress shirts and a nice evening dress for myself…I have to attend Maria’s promo this weekend. I got a subscription for those photography magazines you always wanted. I finally learnt how to change a tire…ok the valet did it and I watched!! I managed to restart the paper I was writing….I got a package from Amma last week…she sent me another sari and some new books for you. I will send them across soon. I am going away this summer to Greece…. I also tried the dress you sent me for my birthday. As always it fits perfectly! You remembered! I’d shown it 3 months ago from across the street. I remember that day. We were getting late for our settlement meetings …yet you remembered….that was sweet of you!! …I baked your favorite casserole this evening.

I miss you alright! But life goes on. I know you miss me too. You might have regrets for having left. I am certain you feel guilty. See, in all the years you have lived, there has been not one person that walked this planet, who’s known you as well I have. I told you before….I won’t judge you for having left. And I don’t hold you responsible either. So stop feeling guilty!

What are you doing right now? Sitting at your table….staring at the take-out containers? Eat it before it gets cold…I know you still have not gotten a new microwave for the office pantry. Tomorrow is Natasha’s birthday…Take her out for lunch if nothing else…And did you remember to send the cheque to Nair Aunty? Tell Natasha…she’ll take care of it for you.

I won’t be able to go to Bess’s this evening. I have a dinner meeting. So I wont see you…I will miss that. Perhaps for the better! Don’t forget to take some chocolates or wine to Bess’s when you go there. Take the truffles from Nicolette’s store…she loves those. And don’t be mean to Claire and tease her about that painting again. Make sure you stay away from Tara…she wants your time and cheque book even more now…now that you are single. Try not to be too abrasive with Shukla…and say hello to Mistry for me…There I go again…. I am forgetting myself now!! And stop laughing at me!! …yeah…I am sniffing the way I always do when you tease me.

It is so easy to be myself again, but so hard to stop being your wife…I wonder if I will ever stop being your wife. After all…I still finish your sentences and you still speak my thoughts…

Still yours,
Your Love!

Odds & Ends - Love Letters 9

2005-03-31T16:19:00.000-08:00

This is the end!!

There is nothing left to say, nothing left to forgive. We are no longer bitter, no longer angry. We are just weary and weary!! I know I have been difficult these past few weeks….when I saw myself as me and not merely as your wife…those discoveries are never easy.

Confusions, contradictions,
Disillusions, delusions,
An existence full of questions,
And so many exclamations,
Was it worth it?
Was my life worth any of it?
Have I even lived yet?
Is this everything life is?
What crossroads am I now in?
What paths will I chose?
The past 8 years…all lost in a blinding blaze….
I don’t even want to say the words….

You can’t leave!! This is my whole life….everything around me. It seems I have outgrown it…. What now??

Should I say goodbye?
Is that what needs to be done now??

Well then….

I bid you well…

Farewell my love!!
Your love…your only love!! I know there is no other….

Why? - Love Letters 8

2005-03-30T18:29:00.000-08:00

I hear your confusion in my mind. I feel your remorse in my heart.

As I sit here smelling your perfume, time sifts through my fingers. As I try and hold on to what was, what may have been…I cant help but wonder. Could it really have been? And if it could have been, then why is it not?

Perhaps I could have made a difference. If I had just been content to be your wife, if I never had remembered myself…if it were possible, then perhaps, I would not be here. Alas…I had to be honest!

Is it fair to my heart that I feel emotions that have been dead? Is it right that, that which was buried is resurrected in one insignificant drop of time? Could it not have waited? Could it never have happened? Was it so hard to be there for me?

As I sit here, I watch the wild palette of vivid strokes – patches of blue, hints of white, grey edged with pink….all of it bordered with silver – much like my life.

Oh well!! Perhaps I have a bus to catch and a key to return. Perhaps the loss is mine and mine alone.

Is this the end or the beginning?
Is this the end of the beginning?
Or else, is this the beginning of the end?

At a loss…for words....for understanding….
Your love!

Beginnings and ends - Love Letters 7

2005-03-29T22:11:00.000-08:00

What we began sitting on shared fences and walls, as innocent dreams fortified with white picket fences. Of children and dogs, fish in the pond and flowers in the yard. Simple, attainable and honourable! Such were our dreams, such were our plans. So childlike and so innocent!

While we reveled in each other and dreamt this simple sweetness, we also put to sleep our older desires. Dreams that we had dreamt since we were children…we gave it up in a moment for one another. Such was our passion, such was our love.

And with the new vision came new challenges – rugged, rough terrain. We were young and naïve when we boldly said, ‘God! Give us our share of burdens when we are young. When we can lift them and not buckle!’ He took our word and blessed us so abundantly. Wise we became, tired we are. But still the vicissitudes of life were so easy. Nothing is hard when we are together. Everything is attainable, everything is passable.

For years now I have filed your papers and taxes.
I have folded your laundry and handed your glasses.
I have cooked your meals and shared your pain.
Tell me now, was it all in vain?
I nursed my dreams and encouraged you to dream yours
I postponed my plans to accommodate yours.
And today when I can’t stay within the confines of my sphere anymore….
When I have to make my attempt to fly off the ledge that I am chained to….
Can I count on you to be there?
To gently hold my hands, to calm my fears,
To give me a last minute word of encouragement and hope?
To remind me that I am still loved, that you will still be here, waiting for me?

I stayed when I was tested and judged and when you experimented. But can I expect you to stay when I experiment? I will not judge you if you do decide to leave. But I do hope you can stay….

Yours in hope,
Your Love!

******

In the background, softly plays Jagjit Singh….

Parakhna mat,
parakhney mein koi apna nahin rehta
Kissi Aainey mein der tak chehra nahin rehta

Do not test/experiment/judge
When you do so, no one will remain yours
No face remains for too long in any mirror

You & Me - Love Letters 6

2005-03-29T22:09:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since we walked on the beach. A while since we have been holding hands. I am peaceful in the knowledge that I am your whole world. I have been secure about it ever since our eyes met. I never really questioned your leading, just followed you with all trust. You did well…you never faltered, or led me astray. You protected me and provided for me. You loved my tears and smiles equally….You came and brought sense to my world. You brought me to reality, introduced me to practicality, and taught me to be pragmatic. I owe my maturity to you and to life. And life would not have happened unless you came by, so the credit is yours anyway!!

And I in return have loved, cherished, held….in sickness and in health, through the good times and bad. ‘Till death do us part’ sounds so apt now…like the perfect vow!! What a life we’ve been through!! And through so much we stuck together as though we were made of the same fabric. I have allowed you to become the center of my life. Now, I bring sense into your world. I lead you, ground you to reality at times, and help you remain practical and pragmatic. My mind has become yours. I am now you…and you are me.

Alas! Now that I am bound by rationale and gagged by tradition, where shall I find my oxygen? The brush that started making vivid wild strokes now rests forgotten. Dust and dried paint have rendered it lifeless. The canvas has paled and the charcoal patterns are but a memory. All the instruments that bring life to the soul sit in perfect juxtaposition on spotless shelves in dustless cases. The camera lies untouched…you have forgotten to capture memories. And we collect minutes and hours….days and weeks…and put them into jars and label them. They sit in sterile corners…ignored, forgotten. I do not hear the ocean anymore….I cannot smell the jasmine in the air. Where did I forget my butterflies?

Yours in doubt,
Your love!!

Peace - Love Letters 5

2005-03-29T22:00:00.000-08:00

I see the white lace curtains floating in the soft breeze. The bamboo chimes announce the breeze’s sojourn. It smells like the sea! ‘Baby’s Breath’… tumbling down the window sill in shades of white, speckled with green, mingling with the misty vapour rising from the windows….warmed by the sharp morning sun. My fingers trace the drops of rain that’s left on the window pane. The little boats of rainbow float across the whole room, the myriad colours spanning the sparkle and shimmer. The walls are golden gossamer reflecting little waves…waves of breathing - some shallow, some deep. Your mouth curves tenderly as you float dreamily… your arms under and across the silken pillow. Holding me! You sleep so peacefully… so beautifully….like a young lad….on the virgin beaches of a long lost island!

As I watch you, I can smell the surf. The spray drenches the skin on my bare arms. You laugh – a soft gentle piece of perfect music. It floats across, as liquid as the water that carries it – mingled with the lone tern’s prayerful cry. The roar of the ocean beckons me into your dreams. And when I gently step in, the ripples from my feet reach the deep of your slumber and they echo back to me. Disturbed by the intruder, you stir and the sun is swiftly shadowed by dark angry clouds. As you flutter your eyes open, the heavy glassy drops shatter against the earth. With your smile you open up your phantasmal world and the thunder above welcomes me, announces me. An irresistible sweetness washes over us and I am completely lost in your arms. Outside, the rain washes away the exhaustion of life yet again and brings with it hopes of renewal….on the virgin beaches of a long lost island!

It is peaceful! Tranquil!! The days go by on placid waters, like catamarans slicing through life noiselessly. We float in and out of our days languidly. You come to me with orchids and questions…I come to you with smiles and sea shells. Like flitting butterflies we play around. And when the sun takes leave, sandy feet carry us to waves that kindle our passions and kiss our toes. And you hold my hand in yours, and we hold our world together – in the faint blush of my passion and the fervent fever of your fingers. Your hands lock on my wrist tightly, yet desire comprehension gently. Confident in life’s designs – we walk the earth. And we ponder aloud - Is this love? Such a small word…and yet it encompasses all of eternity…it defines us. We the young lovers….on the virgin beaches of a long lost island!

See the colours that herald the rising sun – like the juice of the tropical fruit that starts flowing on the palette softly, sweetly and then suddenly! It bursts in our senses – intense, overwhelming us! Hear the music this morning – a crescendo of notes that can only be felt – like the gentle morning warmth turning to mid-day heat. So calm yet so fiery, content yet ardent – we glory in ecstatic triumph...in our perfervid exaltation of one another. Faint yet jubilant – we rest in our joy, we bask in our imaginations. We savour the moments life offers us, we make memories in the scrap books of our minds, in the reservoirs of our hearts….all on the virgin beaches of a long lost island!

Yours in blissful peace,
Your Love!

Finally - Love Letters 4

2005-03-29T21:59:00.000-08:00

So, you came finally!! I came to see you. Did you see me? No…I did not think you did!!
There I was, in the corner watching. As you held your mother, and held your sister and threw up your nephew in the air, I watched. You did not see me because you were not expecting me.
I felt like a stranger intruding in your life.

But yet…this is my life. This is where I belong, where we dream together, where we build our fantastical forts of comfort and joy! You and me…it sounds good! Sounds like it should. Complete!! After all, don’t we breathe in harmony and think in synchrony. What you start, I finish and what I cannot express you understand. We speak without talking…we share without knowing.
When I see you I see myself….a reflection in your eyes. You are no stranger unto me….you are me! There is not one thought I cannot hear and not one whisper I cannot feel. I recognize all your designs and accept all your patterns. Along with you, I throw the dice and watch as The Maker makes His moves….and we surrender to His will and to one another. Where He leads we have gone…and what He chooses for us we will accept. That is unchangeable!! As unchangeable as our intertwined destinies!

I am back home waiting for you…I am no longer anxious. I know you are here and I know you are still the same. And I know it’s just a matter of a few more minutes before you knock on my door. Amidst tears and smiles, there will be silent questions…words will cease to exist and time will stand unmovable.

So tell me my love…what took you so long to find the way back home??? Did you lose the compass I gave you?

Yours in…. (Ding Dong!!)
Your love…

Hurry - Love Letters 3

2005-03-28T18:21:00.000-08:00

Imprisoned in our fears, patiently we wait. Impassioned in our desires, fervently we wait.
When last did we see each other, when last??

And then when we do see each other after days, months…. years or ever, we will see ourselves…our souls. Even so, we will restrain our desperate need to run into each other’s arms. Instead we will choose to walk slowly…slower than we ever have or ever will. Savouring each step, remembering the longing, the pain, the sweetness, the smiles, the confusion….the apprehension, the joy……the past and the future, all in the few seconds that separate us.

We will talk with our eyes, with tears and smiles, giggles and sniffles. In the midst of the throngs of life’s pilgrims, we will make a moment that is ours, just ours! These precious few seconds will determine our entire collective lifetimes. What will be…? Do I want to know..? I wonder!!

Hurry!! But slowly…..

Yours in waiting,
Your Love!

Rest - Love Letters 2

2005-03-28T18:19:00.000-08:00

For 2 years now, we have been together. You come to me every night and I come to you everyday. We come together, just as we are …uninhibited, unpretentious. While apart, we yearn to be with one another, how we long for each other. We pine for the sweet love of friendship that is ours…just ours!! Love…such a wonderful warm feeling! Oh the joy of being in your arms, looking at the warm sunshine beyond the finger stained glass panes. When all the world stands still to hear our fingers drumming away. When you can hear my silences and I can comprehend your stares. And all this without ever knowing if you…..

But this I know – I confuse you! I challenge you and yet nourish you. I have in me a certain feistiness, a certain energy that burns you, yet it refreshes you. I see that you admire my courage and passion even though you mock my heart for its desires. You find the mirth and cheer in me addictive, intoxicating, even if you cannot comprehend it. I can feel your eyes watching me when I laugh. I can see you smile when I giggle. I can sense the pain in your heart when I remind you its time to go. And all this bitter-sweet ache even when ………

As we tear away from each other, we know it is just a few more hours before we can be together yet again. But does that console our weary hearts? Don’t I feel the indignation rise up in your mouth as you reach for the cold keys that will take you home? When in the dark loneliness you have to revisit reality and make commonplace, trite choices?

The fact is… we shall not see each other for a long time. Truth is we have never seen each other…and we might never see each other.

But I know even the softest sigh of yours. And you know even the smallest fear of mine. We have spoken, we have felt. And this distance of a few seas has inflamed our passions for life. This feverish longing for the touch of your voice tears me apart….. It captivates me and overpowers my senses… and I wonder! Will we ever share anything except this violent fervour? Will we ever...find the occasion to... at least share a bottle of wine….or perhaps some tiramisu?

I don’t ask if there have been others before me. I am certain there were, and so I do not ask. I do not want to know if I am the same as another one who basked in the deep pools of your tender attention.

So tell me then my friend, am I not loved by you and you by me? I know that I mirror your soul and you mine, and in this I rest secure and content.

I rest..... secure and content!!

Until we meet again...if we meet again...

Yours....always,
Your love!

Chat - Love Letters 1

2005-03-28T18:17:00.000-08:00

This is a new series that I am starting. As the title suggests these are love letters. Some of them are written over the years, others over minutes. I would love to say that they are inspired by AR Gurney's play - Love Letters, but I have not yet read the play. I suppose it is fair to say that the inspiration is my partly my life and partly my imagination. But they are mostly creative in nature.
******************

So we ‘chat’ everyday…my days, your nights!

'Chat' sounds so casual...like peanuts in a bar...it can be ignored if you have a refined taste! It’s not something you savour...its something you eat without thinking really, just because it’s sitting there in front of you. Like an accessory to something you really wanted in the first place. I like peanuts, but I dislike trite!!

I believe I am in the same category as vivacious, spunky….etc etc…I fit your criteria and create for myself a new category, by being more. And I am also one of those otherwise non-existent people with whom you can spend 14 hours as easily as you can spend with yourself....I am like your solitude. I live in your senses and I breathe into your lungs. It’s me that you take with, to work and back, into that lonely hotel room on those cold wet nights. It’s me that holds your hand as you walk at 2.00 am in the rain…. that rain never stops, does it?

I know how you set me as a standard when you have to make those decisions and think to yourself, “I wonder what she would do?” or “will she approve of this”. I also know how you strive for our future and how you thrive under my appreciation. I know how you miss me.

I miss you too. But, I like you this way...knowing you are so far away. It’s like being in a constant state of euphoria. And that tug at our hearts when we close the chat screen...does it not make me love you more? And if that yearning is gone, wont we settle into the banality and predictability of life and its courses?

Can’t ‘Man’ just remain constant with no progression or retrogression? Guess not…!! I suppose at some time, we will have to move beyond ‘chat’ and actually do mundane chit-chat. We will have to go beyond the fortresses of dreams of the future and venture into financial investments and diaper changes. Reality… life... I believe that’s what it is called!!

Still, it would be nice to just ‘chat’. Physical absence does make the heart grow fonder.

I look forward to tomorrow morning, when along with my coffee and daily reports, I will get a sweet, friendly, familiar door knock on my window pane!! And it will somehow make the vapid morning meetings and insipid coffee more bearable.

Yours in anticipation,
Your love

Cactus Flower and Dal Palak

2005-03-28T16:16:00.000-08:00

Ok am I the lucky one or what!!

Tonight it was good old Jeera Rice, Dal Palak and Boondi Raitha. Yeah, I can cook Indian food too; it’s what I cook most of the time anyway. So, no recipes this time, coz there are tons of places where you can get them on the internet. But the movie….I am falling in love with ‘On Demand’….:-)))))))))))

The movie was ‘Cactus Flower’ with Walter Mathau, Ingrid Bergman and Goldie Hawn. I am not particularly fond of movie reviews. I believe people should see a picture and judge for themselves. But I do recommend pictures and this one I recommend, alright!!

I am still trying to get over the shock of seeing Goldie Hawn so young…the first movie I ever saw her in was Private Benjamin. She has been a favorite since. She’s cute in this movie…and as usual, she is more than the usual blonde bimbette. One tends to forget her ‘old’ visage…with a normal looking mouth and all…these days. Boy was she cute!!

Walter Mathau…I remember ‘Hello Dolly’ and Barbara Streisand whenever I hear his name. It always brings a smile to my eyes. And what a smile her has too…a superb performer, no doubt. The other name I associate with him is Jack Lemmon. Good old fun...clean, natural and good.

But Ingrid…Oh! Ingrid Bergman!! Although Cactus Flower was not one of her most famous pictures….she took my breath away. Just watching her…what a lady!! If I am not wrong, Cactus Flower is probably the only romantic comedy she ever acted in and she did a good job. She sort of held the rest of the characters together. I saw Gaslight first as a child and she made a huge impression on me. Casablanca, Joan of Arc, Anastasia, Stromboli, Murder on the Orient Express, For Whom the Bells Toll….just a few to name. As you can tell, I am a great fan of Miss Bergman!! I could rattle off another filmography here, but I feel the need to watch each and every one of her pictures again. The names that come to mind along with hers are Rossellini, Humphrey Bogart & Cary Grant.

I must tell you though, I laughed quite hard when I saw the night club scenes – a club called ‘The Slipped Disc’. Those dances were ridiculous!!! If those people really danced like that all their lives, they would definitely get a slipped-disc. Thank Goodness for change!! The year the picture was made was 1969, the clothes were definitely hippyish. And Ingrid looked quite stunning in her powder blue ball gown, mink stole and her ‘dentist’ dance moves. She had me rolling on the floor. Goldie Hawn is a natural hippie; no one can do the hippy role quite like her.

These are happy days…the movie days!! What a treat it is to be able to just kick back and enjoy the company of these fine characters on screen. I am reminded of Woody Allen’s ‘Purple Rose of Cairo’….hmmm…. will save it for another blog, though!!

Dinner and a Movie!!

2005-03-28T16:02:00.000-08:00

Dinner and a Movie….Where have you heard that before? ….Dinner and a movie….hmmmm?….Dinner and a Movie…. Dang it!! I got caught, didn’t I!!!

Ok! So I swiped off the title for this blog from some show on TV. But I was too lazy to come up with something original and catchy by myself. So pardon and overlook my ‘plagiaristic maneuvers’, but still enjoy the recipes and the movies…..(Maybe it should be ‘Food & Film’ eh? HA!)

It’s not often that I get the opportunity for some quiet movie time with my husband and somehow on the same evening feel like cooking some fancy food for dinner. The co-ordinates are all perfect this evening…He is free, his mobile, laptop both switched off. I am cooking with whatever’s in the refrigerator and am in no mood for Indian food. This was also a blessed day when there were some fun veggies in the fridge….My hubbs is a veggie. Hence, that’s what I cook most of the times – veggies!….alternatives and suggestions are provided in my recipes…as always for the other more normal folks.

If anyone knows me, they will know that as much as I would like to follow recipes, the only time I follow them to the tee is when I am baking. I know too much about altering baking recipes and the resulting ‘altered’ results….My bakery ‘Prof.’ made sure I learnt my lesson well, Ouch!! It still hurts to think of some of those…err…impositions ‘ahem’!! I am the eternal improviser…I have to add my own stamp, mark to everything I cook. It is almost impossible for me to make something palatable if I had to constantly look into a book or paper….it has to be in my head and I have to sense it before I actually taste it. Write it off as a Chayism if you will...Also why I hate day to day cooking and find it so boring…..

There’s more to my culinary eccentricities and my recipes….I wont have accurate measurements to give you, since I ball-park most of my seasonings and ingredients. I will take whatever’s in the pantry and work with it…so each time it is different. That is the given standard at ‘Chez Chay’. Did I mention that I rarely taste while cooking. Or that I cannot eat right after cooking…well I can go on and on. Another time perhaps.

Now that this long introduction has gone on for long enough…lets get cooking folks!! Here are a couple of recipes I concocted…. (I like to have some ingredients in all the dishes in a meal…give some subtly pronounced flavours that carry thru the entire meal. Ex: garlic, parsley in this meal) But unlike the description, the food will not taste oxymoronic! That I assure you…

Spaghetti with spinach….sounds mundane?….maybe!…but do try it!

Spaghetti:

Get together: Spaghetti, garlic, olive oil, spinach, white onions, olives (any kind u like), heavy cream, chicken/veg stock, dried oregano, fresh curly parsley, parmesan (reggiano if you can get some), anchovies in oil, sun dried tomatoes in olive oil, red chilli flakes, salt, cracked pepper, sugar.

A regular handful for every 2 persons. Pop it in a pot with plenty of boiling H2O.
Season with salt sparingly *
DO NOT add oil **
Cook for about 8 – 10 mins, a little less than the package recommends.

Start the sauce -

In a pan, take about a tbsp of oil from the jar of sun dried tomatoes. Combine it with 2 more tbsp of olive oil *** (Optional – 1 tbsp oil from sun dried tomatoes + 1 tbsp Olive oil + 1 tbsp butter)
Add about 4 cloves of chopped garlic, sweat it a bit.
Add the anchovies, 2 pieces ****. Stir it for about 2 mins till they disintegrate.
Add a cup of thinly sliced white onions. When translucent add a couple of pinches of sugar and caramelize the onions just a touch.
Put in about 3 handfuls of whole spinach leaves and wilt it a bit.
Add ½ a cup of stock, 1 tsp of dried oregano and about ½ cup of the hot pasta water.
When it’s beginning to boil, add ½ cup of the heavy cream, 1 tsp of chilli flakes, crack some pepper and salt into it and allow it all to come together. You determine the heat u want…in the food that is.
Take a look at the pasta. Once it’s al dente *****, drain well.
Come back to the sauce, see if it tastes fine and just put in the recently drained pasta into it.
Toss it all together. After about a minute, cut off the heat.
Leave the pan on the stove. Add the olives, the chopped parsley, about a cup of grated parmegiano-reggiano. Toss together again.
Put into your serving bowl. Top it with chunks of chopped sun dried tomatoes and some more of the tomato flavoured oil. Shave some more parmegiano-reggiano on top and Voila!!

Of course, you can add pine nuts, feta whatever u like…I dislike feta. And I did not have any pine nuts.

Notes:
* - The only time u can actually flavour the pasta is when u are cooking it. Add salt, always a little, because you will season the sauce as well. Remember the cheese is salty too.
** - Oil will only avoid the salt from attaching itself to the pasta. Don’t worry, the noodles will not stick if cooked properly and removed in time.
*** - Personally I prefer extra virgin, but if u dislike the strong flavour opt for fino or light oil.
**** - Anchovies – beware veggies, avoid this, it’s a fishy fish. However, for the uninitiated, once it disintegrates, it will no longer taste like fish, but very nutty and subtle. It will be the base for all the other flavours…Yummo!
***** - Al dente- a texture when u can still bite into it, a little less than done. I like to cook it a little less than recommended. It will cook through in the heat of the sauce. Please do not rinse cooked pasta in cold H2O. It is a hot dish so the pasta should go right into the pan of sauce. If you are making a salad or some cold dish, then you can rinse it briefly in ice cold water – a process that will arrest cooking completely – Refraich/refresh.

Asparagus

Get together: Asparagus (6-8 stems), garlic, fresh curly parsley, white wine/sparkling wine, salt, Cracked Pepper, Olive oil.

In a pan, heat some olive oil. Add a dot of butter if you like.
Medium heat - add 1 tbsp chopped garlic and sauté till brown. Move it to a cooler part of the pan or just remove it onto a plate.
Turn up the heat. Into the flavoured oil, add the cleaned, trimmed asparagus stems. Make sure they are all in a single layer.
Move it around a bit till it get a bright green colour. Do not use a spoon. Just shake the pan.
Add 1 tbsp chopped curly parsley*. Mix in the garlic.
After about a minute, add about a 1/2 cup of wine. **
If you are adventurous and have an audience, try this. Tilt the pan a wee bit till the wine catches fire. It will leave a nice charred flavour on the vegetable. Flambe!!
Do not cook for more than 5-6 mins. By then the wine should be completely evaporated.
Do not over cook the vegetable. It should still be crunchy.
Add the salt, crack some pepper. Take it off the heat and put it directly onto a serving plate.
If you don’t want to scrape the pan, put it back on the fire. Add another dash of wine, some stock and get all the wonderful flavours to mix and marry. This is deglazing…a technique used to make sauces for meat dishes.
Pour the sauce on top of the asparagus. Garnish with a spring of parsley. Voila!!

* - Curly parsley is not as flavourful as flat leaf parsley. If you want an intense parsley flavour, opt for the flat leaf variety.
** - I happened to have some terrible tasting sparkling wine that they like to call ‘champagne’ in the cooler. It is nowhere near champagne and I just wanted to try it for cooking before using it as a drain cleaner. Use any wine you have on hand. If you have no wine, some vinegar will be fine too. Apple cider vinegar, rice vinegar, or even red wine vinegar will be ok. Balsamic will make it an entirely WOW new dish!!. Try that too…it’s fantabulous!!

So that was the food. No dessert, just coffee for me and juice for Hubby. By the time dinner was served, he had found a Harrison Ford movie on ‘By Demand’. So we sat with our plates on the couch and the floor…we invariably slide down to the floor. I guess it’s impossible to tame us.

There I go again!! As always I had to take a short detour. Where were we…aah the movie. ‘Hollywood Homicide’. I must say I was a bit disappointed in the beginning…Harrison Ford playing an LAPD cop…it looked typical…like a guy’s bang-bang movie, until I saw Josh Hartnett in the next shot. Ooooh! That boy is cute eh!! 2 cute guys – one old, one young…what could I say except ‘Perfetto’ The mood definitely was Italian!!

So the movie was ok. The great traditional combination of guns, fun, sex, romance, violence, swearing, yeah it was ok. What kept me interested was the way both the protagonists were always interested in something other than their actual jobs…one is a cop, and a real estate broker, the other is a cop and an aspiring actor. One is trying to sell an enormous property while being interrogated for false charges and the other is practicing lines from ‘A Street Car Named Desire’ while being shot at by a punk!! Josh Hartnett, so adorably practices screaming, ‘Stella!! Stella!!’ At the end of the movie they show his final play. A funny disaster…as expected! It made us both laugh….these days we are coming across a lot of people who are thinking about careers changes (definitely includes me ….!!) But somehow, both the cops seem to do the ‘copping’ best…what had me sitting through the whole movie was Harrison Ford…besides my Hubby that is. I am consciously diverting the direction of this blog now.

Harrison Ford…

Here are some other Ford movies I have enjoyed! I took the trouble of putting the list in ascending order based on the year it was made. However, I saw them at different times in my life. Think of it as a partial filmography...I omitted a few early pictures!! I also took the liberty of putting up my opinion of each movie…not that it really matters.

Star Wars – Childhood memories..... May the Force be with us!! Han Solo’s drawl and smile were way better than Luke Skywalker’s boyish charms. I still am a great ‘Star wars’ Fan…When they made the digitalized versions, I went back to see it. A real pity my husband slept through it, that too on our first date!!

Heroes – Never saw this one.

Force 10 from Navarone – with Robert Shaw as well…what a treat that was! Another childhood memory

Apocalypse Now – He had a relatively smaller role, but who can be big in front of Marlon Brando!! Martin Sheen stole the rest of my applause anyway…Excellent picture!! I had to see it a couple of times before understanding it…I was probably 12 or 13…

Frisco Kid – It was fun!

Star Wars – Empire Strikes Back – May the force be with us!! Reminiscing childhood memories. Hubby going…ZZzzz when I took him…again.

Indiana Jones & Raiders of the Lost Ark – I think I have seen this one a few hundred times. Even though this was made before the Temple of Doom, I somehow saw this much after the Temple of Doom. One of the first gifts my father got that I enjoyed more than him.

Star Wars – Return of the Jedi – May the Force be with us again!! Hubby going…ZZzzz…again. Why did I take him this time...again?? Chay = Late Bloomer!!

Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom – this was the first ford movie I saw. I was 8 or 9, petrified of the eye ball soup and slithering baby snakes cut right out of the big mommy’s belly, and was screaming when Ambrish Puri plucked out a human heart and drank its blood. Gory eh!! Sure was!! I was clinging to my mother’s neck the whole time…and it was mercifully in the safety of my house. I suspect my Ma was a bit scared too.

Witness – Aaah!! He was nominated for an Oscar, the Golden Globe and the BAFTA. My Ma’s fave movie….more childhood memories.

Mosquito Coast – Aaaah again!! This was one neat picture!!! Nominated for the Golden Globe again. Exceptional performance!!

Frantic – I saw this more recently. Pretty darned good!

Working Girl – Saw this very recently. I enjoyed Melanie Griffith more!! Cute chick flick!

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade – Aaaaah!! Ford and Sean Connery…Dad and son!! This was something!! 2 great drawls, 2 great smiles, 2 great senses of humour(s), 2 great great actors!!

Presumed Innocent – No presumptions here…he is good!!

Regarding Henry – Yet to see this one…

Patriot Games – Neat again!!

The Fugitive – Wow!! How can anyone forget Dr. Kimble!! I don’t know who was better
though...Ford or Tommy Lee Jones…Another Golden Globe nomination.

Clear and Present Danger – so so.

Sabrina – Awesome!! It has a great ‘Pollack’ian quality to it…wonderful romantic comedy. Ford as Linus is detestable yet lovable and Julia Ormond is simply…charming! A perfect chick-flick!! Yet another Golden Globe nomination.

Air Force One – Glenn Close was good. Ford is comparable at times to President Bush. Ok, only during the speeches. Otherwise, this is a movie that makes you love being American…only to remind you that you are not American, thankfully!

6 days and 7 nights – Oh the ruggedness is back! This is the ford to die for…He looks old and haggard, but still very charming.

Random Hearts – Not seen this one

What Lies Beneath – I am not fond of horror movies. I do get spooked. But this combo meal of Zemeckis, Ford and Pfeiffer is probably worth some credit.

K-19: The Widowmaker – Exceptional!! Definitely a good piece of entertainment. Besides I love war movies.

Hollywood Homicide – Funny…time pass, a bit bakwaas!

Water to Wine – Yet to see…..

I am looking forward to Indian Jones 4 among other movies.

Phew!! Are you folks still awake after this loooong blog! Well, here’s some more then…Harrison Ford is half Irish. Great person to blog about on the ‘day after Paddy Day’ eh? He also used to be a carpenter till he made it big in Star Wars. The year it was made was the year I was born…WOW!!

The funniest Ford story I have heard – was during the shoot of Raiders of the Lost Ark an awesome collaboration between George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Shot in Tunisia in 73 days, this movie left everyone, including Indy exhausted!! To top it all he had a bad case of a bad stomach. The scene is the one with the sword fight - Indy is chased and finally cornered by this sword wielding henchman. After a few takes, Indy asks Spielberg if they can shorten this scene. Spielberg laughingly says maybe he can shoot him instead of fighting him and everyone laughs. Indy just shoots the guy at the next take – unplanned. And the rest is history! This scene alone has been copied and improvised in hundreds of movies since the original.

And what of that music score by John Williams…Oh My Goodness!! John Williams is another blog altogether…

So, there folks! This is my offering for the day - recipes, an amateurish movie review, and a filmography that will hopefully evoke some nostalgia. And some trivia - about Harrison Ford and Chay!!

'The Aviator' - Come Fly!!

2005-03-23T19:26:00.000-08:00

This weekend, my darling husband, who was obviously saddened and disturbed by my state of candescent agitation, decided to give me a gentle push in the right direction. He must have pondered the ramifications of my ‘condition’, to put it mildly, and felt understandably helpless. But the precious love of my life, that he is, he could just not let me suffer in my own turmoil. Instead of trying to talk to me he did something outrageously simple. He asked me out on a date and he took me to the movies. Some time during the picture, he patted my hand, leaned over and said, “There is a reason why I brought you to this one”.

We saw ‘The Aviator’. One of the most brilliant pictures I have seen in a while. Martin Scorcese outdid himself. I was simply blown away by the performances of Leonardo DiCaprio and Cate Blanchett, playing Howard Hughes and Katherine Hepburn. Cate Blanchett deserved her Oscar every bit. The movie won 4 more Oscars for editing, art direction, cinematography and costumes. I enjoyed Kate Beckinsale as Ava Gardener as well. But this is not a movie review.

I am amazed at the ingenuity of the man and his passionate, obsessive resolve to carry through his dream. It was a perfect jolt of graphic emotion for me, given how I have been feeling lately. This was the same way I felt when I saw ‘A beautiful Mind’ and zillions of other movies. Given the potential that each of us carries within us, it is ultimately a battle that we fight. What is it against...ourselves or our environments? Ultimately, the purpose of the battle is for that innate potential to materialize, be birthed! I am no aviator or movie maker or mathematician. But I know my potential…I know what can be, if only I tapped my potential!! And I know just what levels of integrity and ownership I am capable of.

As the picture ended….and Howard Hughes repeatedly said ‘the way to the future’, I watched!! There is more to this man than his OCD and eccentricities. Even if the entire world wants to concentrate their collective attention on just those ‘weird’ things, there is no true way that one can deny that it is the fire in him that kept many a heart and dream alive!!!

As his lips uttered the same thing, over and over, his eyes were saying something different each time…the intensity of the moment was blackened by nothing…and I knew in my heart! I knew that I will be all I am meant to be. As the picture hall emptied out, I sat there at the edge of my seat, hands folded in front of me head hanging down, and in my closed eyes I felt the music lifting me up into the realms of reality that will be one day!! The silence that followed after the titles, when Howard Shore put down his wand was soothingly harmonious compared to all my dissonances. The patterns of my life can be changed, after all!!

I found these quotes while browsing….

“Once you consent to some concession, you can never cancel it and put things back the way they are.” – Howard Hughes

“It is impossible to think of Howard Hughes without seeing the apparently bottomless gulf between what we say we want and what we do want, between what we officially admire and secretly desire, between, in the largest sense, the people we marry and the people we love. In a nation which increasingly appears to prize social virtues, Howard Hughes remains not merely antisocial but grandly, brilliantly, surpassingly asocial. He is the last primitive man, the dream we no longer admit.” - Joan Didion

I wonder if there is another ‘spruce goose’ is in the making somewhere in the world!! I hope there is…..

Shades of Mediocrity

2005-03-23T09:51:00.000-08:00

There’s more to my state of agitation than just a cryptic blog. Criticism and speculations abound with anything abstract…Not that I mind any of it. Actually I enjoy it…even defending the worth of my thoughts in unnecessarily childish ways. It makes me feel emotions that have been numb for a while….

But today…I just felt the need to come and vent a bit...Guess its one of the many advantages of being anonymous eh?

….Tonight I'll sing my songs again

I'll play the game and pretend

But all my words come back to me

In shades of mediocrity

Like emptiness in harmony

I need someone to comfort me….
Paul Simon

Truth is that I am not sure how I stumbled upon the truth. :-)))))))) Maybe I just knew it all along and lived in some sort of a denial. Guess, I am just frustrated about whole bunches of things. My inability to be 'normal' for instance....The older I grow, the more I feel pressurized to conform to convention. And I am not so old either....At 27, I feel like I have already hit mid-life crisis...heck, I don’t even have kids!!!

And all the while, I know I cannot and should not try to be someone I am not....It’s something thing I detest vehemently- pretense of any kind. And yet somehow, I have been pretending for so many years now. Smiling sweetly...small talk about the weather and one’s health, the politically correct statements and being on the right political side (is there even such a thing??), being a perfect hostess, being the conversationalist, being the regular old housewife...forever interested in the recipe for some over spiced Indian dish with flavours that I cant quite put a finger on...pretending to be slam-dunked by a friend of a friend's baby shower games involving measuring and/or toilet rolls, or being totally wowed by the rising XYZ stock prices....enough already!! Not that there is anything wrong with any of it. But there is more right?? To life that is! Is life all about mortgage payments and taxes, or it that just a small part of life?

It’s not me to be this way...why should I be someone I am not? Is that the only way I can get some love and acceptance? By being a regular old, single shot latte? Can people really not handle espresso or an occasional Irish coffee??? And I don’t want to have to be alone either for just being me…I do want love, appreciation, encouragement and validation. I am normal in at least a few ways… :-)))) I think!!

Some of you might say...it’s probably just a phase and that too might pass. But then, what if it does not?? What if I do settle for mediocrity...yet again? What if I compromise and settle for further domestication and give up on myself again? What if I stop desiring, aspiring to be what & who I am meant to be....How can I live then and still look at myself in the eye??? What good is all the love I will have then? I won’t have my own!!

And the worst thing is that there is very little middle ground…I cant hold on to what I have now…calm, peace and my family’s approval, and still desire to make ripples in the skies. The peace and approval are the first things that will go. Eventually my family might too, and along with them take away our common pleasant dreams as well. I would not blame them one bit if that happened. But nonetheless, it’s sad that it might happen!!

A good friend recently said to me… “Hitch your wagon to the stars…so that you can you can just get off the ground…” the premise being that if I get off the ground, I will fly…the way I have aspired to!! My friend is right…but do I have the courage? Will I summon it at the right time? Will I face myself??

Dang! I've not felt so lost in a long long time!! I have forgotten how to be when without a compass or a map. It’s easy when you pretend you can’t see what you see. But then, once you are forced to face yourself...Oy Vay!! Its one of the hardest things to do eh, face your self?? Especially when you know you might lose everything you have....but then again, what would this world be without risk takers…mundane?

Keep it simple, they say. Don’t they know that life is never simple!! We can delude ourselves and persuade ourselves to believe that a flower or a smile will make it all better. But it’s all in the mind…and what can one do when the mind is restless!!

Confusions within and beyond the parameters ....plenty of Chayotisms too... I wonder where all this will lead me. I so wish I could turn back time...and just rest by swimming pools and not grow up beyond 13...Peter Pan complexes can be nice. Surreal!!

Wishful thinking again…more escapisms…I am so tired!! So darned tired!! Yet I cannot rest!! Miles to go….so many miles… where to begin…where am I??

Dissonance

2005-03-22T11:10:00.000-08:00

What is this agitation that over takes every fabric of my rational mind? Am I insanely blown in my mind or am I just zinging on coffee? Have I just set fire to my mind by reminiscing yesterday or am I just plain furious for having gone to sleep? Is there no way to really collect my pounding heartbeats in a jar anymore? As I pace restlessly with fists rolled tight, I wonder…will I ever find the perfect words to express these emotions… these thoughts…these feelings? Can nothing calm me…can nothing stop this dissonance in my head!! The burst of the imaginary colours, sights, patterns, smells just overwhelm my senses with violent vividity! Is someone there who knows what I am going through? Can someone feel this as intensely as I do? My shoulders hurt, my skin burns and I feel such passionate hunger!! Will I ever be able to birth my desires to the point of ecstatic jubilation? Or will I just compromise yet again for mediocrity? What I wonder can fuel me except this fierce passion? And yet, this same fierce, violent, volcanic vigour stands to destroy all that has been built on carefully planned, meticulous strategy! It has the power to utterly destroy me and yet it is all I desire….my fierce passion for life!! It is like no other emotion I have felt and it cannot be put to sleep anymore!

Love is in the Air - the Valentine's post!!

2005-03-20T12:11:00.000-08:00

Date: Feb 15th, 2005.

It is the day after Valentine’s Day and I have been having an absolute ball by myself. For 2 nights now, I have sat by my warm fireplace, with wine, chocolates, and great movies and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Hubbs daahling had to go out of town on work, early on Valentine’s morning. I don’t mind really…we make up for all the lost time in many innovative ways and it helps the romance stay alive. At least in our case it does.

What innovative things you ask....take for instance our Valentine’s date. We have had a really busy month or so and have hardly had time to catch up. He’s been traveling a lot and I was longing for just one sweet, quiet, precious moment with him…without the mobile or the blackberry or the laptop….So we decided to do something special after all the weekend chores were done. Chores done, Saturday over & we were too tired even for a smile.

Next morning, we were off to Church and while on the way home a light-bulb flashed. So we stopped by at this great bread place, got some wonderful, aromatic, fresh, warm, bread. Went home and I quickly put together some salad and a goulash-curry-sort-of-a-thing and I packed a picnic basket. Honey was not too sure…after all it was freezing outside and it looked like rain as well. But I was determined not to let the moment pass. So, I sent him off with the grub and a great big flask of tea to load up the car, and snuck in some candles into a bag, along with some other supplies.

We drove to the nearest park on a beautiful lake and it was windy & freezing. Our coats and jackets were no good in this weather, but we braved it. It was impossible to stand by the water, let alone eat, so we went to the covered eating area….not one bit romantic or lovely. There were no chocolates, no wine, no roses, no gifts. We were both in track suits and running shoes, with hoods over our heads.

But once the table was set, we were both grinning from ear to ear like it was our very first date. When I reached for the bag with the candles, he thought it was a gift for him and started apologizing for not getting me one. I showed him that it was no gift and we laughed till we had tears in our eyes. When he saw the lit candles he was speechless….we have had hundreds of moments like these, but we are speechless at every one of them.

So right there, in the park with kids and dogs playing, far from the water front, in the most unremarkable setting…we celebrated each other! We enjoyed each other’s company…we ate, talked, laughed, shivered, laughed some more. Only one hour…no phones, the only blackberry there was the kind you can pick off a shrub & eat and I was the laptop…Lol. It’s enough to carry us thru’ another couple of weeks.

Silly Me!!

2005-03-20T12:01:00.000-08:00

It is one of the silliest things I do, but it is so comforting. I have been doing it since I was a little girl. I bet there are many other girls who have done it and continue doing it. Maybe a few boys as well…maybe they don’t admit it, but I am certain they do it….maybe in closets or bathrooms or even in the pantry. Sometimes girls like to do it with a couple of other girls.... it helps to have company....

Wait a minute...I did not tell you what the silly thing was! I can see a few imaginations already running wild...I can’t allow you to assume whatever you want to now, can I?? Lollz! Well, I was talking about women and crying. (I can see all the guys go, 'awww man!') :-)) We like to cry....at least I do.

There needs to be no rational reason. There has to be nothing wrong, no heart breaks or any other kind of breaks. All is well and fine. But every now and then something feels a bit off... boring, humdrum, too quiet and monotonous. And a good cry makes it all better...weird when you actually think about it. :-)

I am sure some of our fellow 'enlightened' bloggers can actually come up with some scientific hormone related reason as to why it happens. Maybe it is the onset of depression. Or something that makes our eyes clean or some such thing. Lollz. All I know is that it is therapeutic and that’s all that really matters.

Well, I am feeling a bit blue. :-( Oh, pardon me! Did I not mention that already? That's how I got thinking about this whole crying deal...

It just seems silly!! But I know I am not all alone in this, I have quite a few girlfriends who will vouch for this phenomenon among women. Usually, I can do it just like that. Just start crying, cry for some 5 minutes and wipe off my eyes and nose and instantly feel better. It takes no time or effort and no one needs to know.

But today, I am having such a hard time. I even tried watching some sad story on Oprah...now guys, I don’t need your help crying so don’t offer any weird suggestions ok... ;-) Ok, I have to go now and try and cry. I might try reading some of Akber Kassam's blogs on Sulekha. That will do it. :-))