For the past three days I have been at home doing nothing. The reason for my laid-back-edness is a twisted back muscle.
It all began on last Saturday morning. I got the josh to clean the house and T went “Gosh!” I wanted to usher the New Year to a squeaky clean house. So we spent most of the Christmas weekend fighting with cobwebs and reaching up to the fans with brooms, pieces of cloth, washing all the upholstery et al. Everyone at home thought I had gone clean crazy and were quite relieved when the whole exercise was over. But I only had to enter the room when I saw the missing tile of the clean puzzle – the attic! Though I did not share it with anyone a burning desire developed in me to clean this messy appendage of our room. Attics are a necessary evil I tell you. By Wednesday I couldn’t put off the cleaning another day and taking advantage of the fact that there was nothing much for me to do at office I called it a day off. With broom in hand and excitement in heart I started to unload all the junk which had gotten stored over many years. Most of the “junk” was books. I have to tell you that I really enjoy going through boxes of old books. I like making exciting discoveries among those old brown dusty pages. And this time no part of the junk was mine! I love to stumble upon books I would have never read. Bookmarks with doodles on them left wherever the reader got bored with the book forever. Hilarious comments in the margins written hurriedly in class and passed along. You can well imagine how long I would have taken to sort of the books to be kept back and the ones which had to go to a general book dump place (yes we have that too for wont of deciding what to do with them). The variety was amazing. I found books ranging from kids fairy tales to children’s knowledge banks to mechanical guides to quaint books which nobody would have ever read. It was like tracking through the growing years of T :). The best of them all was finding a book about the German Democratic Republic completely in german. I wonder who read that! I also happened to find at least 10 (yes you are seeing it right) dictionaries. If anyone wants to buy a new one just let me know! I found T’s college autograph book and chuckled through most of the entries. Sometimes old autograph books help in finding out what others think about a person :). I figured T was quite a popular joker even then as he is now! And so the story went on till I had put back essentials back up neatly. Then ofcourse I had to wash all the bed linen. During that I happened to have a nasty bout of cough while bending over. And immediately a muscle in my back got twisted badly! So bad that I couldn’t straighten for a whole minute, wasn’t able to walk easily, found it impossible sit and it was torture to sleep. That’s how I ended up for three days doing nothing but screaming in pain whenever I tried to get up after lying down or cough and praying that I don’t get a sneeze (am a pretty “sneezy” person. Walk me into any new room, shop, give me a new perfume or make me smell food (or a new person)and the first thing I do is Accchoooo!). It hasn’t been that bad because I was hooked on the Internet. One of my much younger cousins got me addicted to playing games and I have seen more cricket than ever before in my life.
But still when people ask me how I ended up with a muscle strain I actually find it sheepish to tell them that it was not due to any of the courageous heavy duty cleaning work I did at the beginning of the week!


Expressly expressing

You know why I am writing this blog? Because I am amazed. Its 8:15 PM. Precisely 3 hours before, I left home to go see the 5:30 PM show of "Kabul Express". I came back home half an hour before! The home-movie-home thingy was so speedy that we had a tough time convincing my mother-in-law that we really went to see a movie and did not sneak away to eat out on that pretext! She thought we did not get the tickets :)
Kabul Express is a very well expressed movie. It looks awesome, it feels fine, it makes one feel emotional by telling us the story of the "enemy". No points for guessing that its Taliban. Afghanistan looks breath taking. Honestly I don't know how I would react in person to the muddy brown mountainous terrain in contrast with the bright blue skies kilometer after kilometer interspersed with shelled houses, buildings and tanks. But it looked beautiful through the camera of xxx. Acting is good but not great if you ask me. The meaning behind the movie is the biggest hero. All the characters get equal footage and they all do equal justice to their roles. Its funny in many parts and when you have Arshad Warsi you get perfect comic timing. John Abraham as the more mature of the two does not have really much to do except look serious. Most of the dialogues are delivered by Arshad! What I also liked about the movie was absence of songs and slick editing. The movie lasts 2 hours and I feel thats perfect to hold the audience attention.
The angrezi mem angle does not ring a bell for me. I don't know why she is there. But no complaints ‘coz like Jai (Arshad) says to Suhail (John) in the movie "Registhan mein phool kila hai aur tu poochta hai colour kya hai?" LOL. One of a kind movie. After Dhoom 2 a major relief for me and put back some hope in Bollywood fare.


Intimidation II

In an earlier post I had expressed the generation gap between me and machines. Today I found out that it spreads to kitchen appliances also. Some of them flummox me! I have no clue how to handle them well. Take for example today morning's caper. Yesterday night I "benevolently" decided that I would make breakfast. Why this came to pass was because my mom-in-law is not in station. So in the morning with a happy tune on my lips I entered the kitchen. With full gusto I took out my enemy of all appliances to use. The pressure cooker. I know it was invented with "Simplicity" in mind but give me a vessel with water to cook rice in any day. If you haven't guessed it still I am terrified of and intimated by the pressure cooker. It stems from a "small" incident of the cooker bursting the first time ever I tried to use it. The phobia has stayed with me since. Just when I think I have made a slave of this appliance its evil face comes up to show me who is boss.
I am not the best judge of the measure of water that is needed for cooking a certain measure of rice. But I had started feeling a little more confident about it until today. I kept rice and water in the cooker and started doing other chores around the house. After half an hour I realized that the whistle hadn't blown off and at the same time also noticed a burnt smell permeating through the whole house. Rushing into the kitchen, switching off the stove and opening the lid showed me that due to lack of sufficient water the whistle was on Silent Protest and the cooker had burned the rice. No I had not. It was all the problem of the stupid cooker.
I am clued into Innovation these days. And you know what I think would be an awesome innovation in cookers? Measure markers on the inside for every litre till the full capacity. Now this would be something very useful for people like me who become life long sworn enemies of the pressure cooker!


Posterity or Nostaliga

On Monday night while I was keeping back a few papers in a file I found a bundle of my oooold writings. From the solitude flavour to the poet in me to the comic sense to love I found them all in a brown paper cover. Testimony to the way my weird mind has developed over the years. Yellowed papers, smudged papers, papers with dried water drops on it. I used to love the idea of collecting whatever I wrote and doodled, however nonsensical it might have been. I am wondering if I should convert the writings into electronic form on my blog for posterity sake or preserve the stiff old pages for nostalgia sake.
What should I do?


Motherly times

Nowadays I can easily classify my group of girl friends into the following 4 categories
  • Experienced mothers
  • New mothers
  • Potential mothers
  • Mothers-to-be-in-future
There comes a time in every girl's life when life takes on a new meaning. Literally. A new life comes into her life. There also comes a time in every girl's life when all around her, her friends are bringing new lives into this world. I have reached the latter juncture. Am pretty sure that soon most of our conversation will be dominated by the toddlers rather than on the next big thing at work or the husband or the latest book or the make-up ritual. For a simple reason that most mothers are deprived of personal time and when they get a chance to talk to their friends they easily talk about the topic foremost on their mind rather than scratch their head and try to make new conversation! And talk will only be a bridge over the waaaa and susu gaps. So I am getting mentally prepared to hear a lot about diapers and burps and other ejection of sounds from their bundles of joy.
One of my favourite friends has also been intimated about a visit from the stork and I am all excited to hear about the baby's progress. I dont know what it is with me but I had tears in my eyes when she was telling me over the phone about the head and spine of the baby developing. Am an emotional old fool. I pray for her and all my other friends of the previous categories.
I do have a unique category for myself - a Very-Scared-mother-to-be-in-the-future

Should I brag or should I not?

I had an amazing week and end last week!
My name appeared in the Times of India newspaper twice in 5 days!
Oh am so excited about it! It was all about a presentation in a career seminar.
I felt like a celebrity coming out, getting mobbed by people showering appreciation and questions! I needed the "Red Bull" to keep my mind active which would otherwise have slept off because of lack of sleep the previous night. Yeah, ofcourse I was nervous. Am not such a natural yakkity-yakker as my husband :). The poor soul had to listen to me "olering" twice as I neatly put a veil of "preparation" over all the nonsense I was talking. But it was exciting I tell you. For a non-stage person like me to be up there addressing nearly a hundred people was a very proud (unlike most people who I dont understand how feel humbled) moment. I did falter on stage. I did forget words but the audience never knew, I covered up so well! And the piece-de-resistance was when at the end of the presentation I forgot to ask for audience questions. I got off the stage came to a halt in front of the first row-ers and said (yeah exact same) "Shit!". Then I climbed back on the stage and sheepishly asked the people to shoot questions :). It was funny I tell you! But I had already got the audience in a good mood so it was ok.
Its not like I have never presented before in a forum. But I have never presented to a crowd I dont knw (if you discount the Independence day speech I had delivered, in fourth standard in front of the whole school(all of whom minus 45 of my class I dint know),which my dad and mom had helped me write and memorise). Most times its been a set of people I know something about.
This week my dilemna starts with the question "Should I brag about it with all or shouldnt I?". I mean is it nice to tom-tom your own achievement? For me, getting quoted in the press is BIG. A lot of people are telling me to capitalise on this and not allow future event managers to forget me as a speaker. I am clueless about how to do this but I will learn the ropes soon. I dont know how this "learning the ropes" phrase got coined. Need to read up on it. But for now I have decided to publicly brag hence this post tra la la
P.S:- Thank you hubby dearest.



I am certain today is much better than tomorrow!



Its a bit of an irony
I swear on the mulligatawny,
in a cold country like this
they dont really miss
the warmth of hot broth
going down one's throat
to give a little insulation
from the biting cold.
'ts for hot breakfast that I crave
when I step out of my roomy cave
all I want to have is a dosa roast
what I get is a buttered toast.
When I look for hot soup
all I get is a lukewarm dupe
Zweibel, Tomate and Kartoffel*
you get plate loads of these if
you ask for vegetable.
One of the best you get is Flammkuchen
which is pizza with crust nicely flattened.
I miss my cup of hot Red Label tea the most
'coz here its umpteen flavours of which they boast.
Amidst Strawberry, Lemon, Orange and Earl Grey
Even Assam tea does not hold its sway.
Its usually had here without any milk
They have no clue about chai or its ilk.
But what I love most here is the Yoghurt
in many flavours and choice you can assert.
My all time favourite is the Erdbeere*
thinking of which, I should get my today's share.
Am glad I am coming home tomorrow, this time during
to chatambsadhu, morasadhu and bendekayi karimb!
*zweibel=onion, tomate=tomato, kartoffel=potato, Erdbeere=strawberry


Hatrick and one more

Today I have posted 3 write-ups on this blog! Yoo-hoo! Yippie!
Plus this one :)


Machines always have their way of intimidating me. You might already know this if you have read my previous post :)
Recently I got another fair dose of drama.
The tool: A vending machine
The task: Buy a packet of chips
The payment method: Slot where coins should be inserted

Yeah, it all seemed pretty simple but the havoc started when I put in the coins and punched the correct number for the chips and the packet began to slide out of its holder. It slid and slid and slid to the edge and there it stopped. I waited for a second, then another but the packet wouldn’t budge! Now I had put in a full 65 Euro-cents into the slot and converted to rupees that would be roughly 39. I did feel like leaving that to a waste. So I went to the machine and started hitting it, then kicking it. But nothing happened. Then a brain wave struck. What if I get the packet behind it to slide? Then this one has to fall out to make way. But here was a slight problem. I did not have the requisite change to put into the slot again.
I went up to another Indian I know here and explained to him the funny situation I was in. He came to rescue me as most men are bound to when they see a damsel in distress! He also banged and kicked the machine to no avail. Then I asked him in a small voice whether he could put in another 69 cents. He did but not before I explained the concept and reason to him. He was impressed with my level of thought and immediately put in the coin and punched in the product number. The second packet began to slide. It slid and slid and slid very close to the first one. And then nothing happened. We both waited for a second then another but nothing really happened. We couldn't believe our luck. Even the second packet was caught with the first and the guy was nodded an emphatic NO when I suggested I DumbC to try for the third packet. We stood around there wondering what to do.
I thought this was what the management of a company might feel when products don’t get deliver what is expected by customers.
Boss: "Should we just ignore the 69 thousand euros we have invested or we should we somehow try to get this product out?"
Boss' Right hand man: "Yeah ok there are bugs."
Boss' Left hand man: "We can solve them with another version of the product."
Boss: "Invest another 69 thousand euros."
After a few months
Boss' Right and left hand men: "Now both are stuck. Hmmm".

In the meantime a few people milled around us, clucked their tongues and sympathized that the machine made a fool of us.
"Oh you know these things never happen to us"
"Yeah but you know sometimes it happens to others"
!!! grrr
After smiling sweetly at them, blinded by rage both of us kicked the machine with all our might and both the packets came stumbling down.
Happy Ending!

An anecdote in a 1000 words!!!

There is an interesting anecdote (I wouldn't call it one since its developed into a short story as you will see shortly), that I want to narrate. This is not for the weak-minded. It’s quite big. Yeah it takes a lot of words to get the confusion, fury, embarassment and exhaustion of that experience all out of my system. I have written it as it happened and no fancy shmancy stuff in this post (not that you really expected it but am just telling you ;)..)

This was on my first trip abroad. Destination SFO. Well, that was on my onward flight. On my way back to India I had to change planes in Chicago. And that is how I landed in one of the busiest airports of the world O'Hare International Airport. There were two things that I learnt as soon as I got to a particular airline (don't want to name them) counter.
1) That one can't do a through check-in of baggage between flights which don't land and take off on the same day.
2) Most Indian travelers are perceived as travel-illiterate (unless you put a show of nonchalance, if you appear even a wee bit concerned it kills the impression you are making).

So there I was at the baggage section trying to spot my huuuge green samsonite and a small green VIP suitcase among the umpteen baggages piled up there. I could find the small one but the huge one was absconding. I reported this to the airline personnel who assured me that they would find it for me before I left and gave me a lot of fundas about how somehow baggages mysteriously pile up inside their office sometimes. And since they gave me nice smiles and also helped me with an overnight accommodation at the Radisson I was gleaned to accept their assurances and went on to the hotel where I slept peacefully through the night.
My flight the next day was at 1:30 PM. Good sense made me reach the airport by 9 AM. I reached the counters with all the radiance of the sun shining outside on Chicago. There I was told on enquiry that they had failed to trace my bag. But I was told that they would look. After waiting for an hour in the line-of-sight of the ground staff, I started asking them again.
It dint help my case that there was another Indian grandma checking in for the same flight with two bags that weighed twice more than maximum. Her son who was trying to send a whole lot of stuff to India was abusing the staff for their rude attitude. So the air was generally on fire. When even after repeated enquiry I couldn't solicit any concrete response from them as to where the bag went, I went ahead and wrote down the name of the lady who was talking to me. I told her that I would have to inform the airline authorities about her for not even trying to find out where my bag went with the pretext that there were "a lot of passengers traveling everyday who carry lot of bags and airline personnel can't personally track each of them". At this point her boss became a little apprehensive and started taking personal interest in the matter.
By this time it was 12:15 and I was getting panicky about missing my flight. Chicago is a huge airport. And there are sky trams which connect between terminals. That was another first for me. I needed at least 20 minutes to get to the departure terminal of my flight. The boss lady got busy firing away instructions to her junior. They all trooped inside the office and god knows what they did but finally they emerged triumphant only to tell me that instead of through checking-in to MAA(Madras, India) my bag was checked-in to MAD(Madrid, Spain) and that’s where it was headed! I was assured (yet again) that I would be united with it in London which was my stopover. I had no choice but to accept this piece of information and head over to the sky tram place because I could only think of that way to get to my terminal.
The place where i needed to get in was out of a science fiction movie for me. Doors kept opening and closing on either side of the enclosure and capsules would keep zipping by. I looked around to see for any mention of the terminal I was supposed to go to. I saw one board on the right which said Terminal X and had the downward pointing arrow mark beside it. For the high-tech-travel-illiterate me this dint make any sense. What is the downward arrow supposed to mean? Should I enter the right door or the left? I stood there and thought about it for a full five minutes. I was too embarrassed to ask anyone there but mustered up courage and asked this to a uniformed lady "Terminal X please?". In reply she just nodded her pointed vaguely and slowly said "Yeah...". And of course I did not understand that! So what I did next was the most hilarious thing. Since the board was hanging on the right side I decided to go into the right door. I arrived at Terminal Y and was left with a question mark. And then I saw another board which said "Terminal X" and the arrow beside it was pointing to the left side! I thanked the Lord for small mercies. Got into the left door and in a couple of minutes found myself exactly where I had first boarded the tram!! I had not realized that I was in Terminal X all the time I was frantically searching for it!!
Well then I ran from there till I found my gate. I was one of the last passengers to board the flight. I spent a tense ten hours to London in despair about my missing luggage. In London, upon enquiry I found that my luggage was indeed redirected and it would board the flight with me. My insistence that I wanted to physically see my bag before boarding feel on deaf ears. I spent another eight hours to Chennai wondering if I would really see my bag. Upon landing, after immigration I ran all the way to the baggage belt and lo behold there it was, my precious huge Green Samsonite bag!

What I like most abt working in Germany

Is the walk I take to office from the hotel everyday.

Its through nice green patches of land.
It takes me about five minutes and there is absolutely no pollution! I dont have to look out for vehicles.
I can plug in my ipod and sing along loudly for there's no one around usually to care. Even if there are I dont care!


Babe's day out ;)

So, it was that on a fine european November saturday morning Siri decided to have a day out. She went to Heidelberg and bought herself a ticket at the Reisezentrum to Stuttgart. And what did Siri babe decide to do in Stuttgart? Visit the zoo!She got on the tram which would take her to Wilhelma and padded along behind the others and got in. Inside the zoo babe got to see a whole range of plants and flowers many of which she dint
remember seeing before. There were camelias, chrysanthemums, venus flower and so many others. Once she got out of the glass house she came across another door which said 'Ausgang'(Exit). Here she was left wondering what she should do. How often do you exit from a door only to find another exit and not entry. Or was the door she exited from the entry? With all these confusions in her mind Siri entered the exit only to find herself in an aquarium! Oh what beautiful colours. The fishes were exotic looking. Some looked like meanies, some looked like serial lights, some looked like paper, some looked like after god created them a barber took
over. But their tanks were filled with such nice colours which contrasted them with the fishes that babe was wonderstruck!OOOOO the under water world was soooo breath taking. What was this in the next cage? A python? Snakes! Lots of them. All sleeping. None of them as much moved a millimeter. Then there were lizards of all kinds - chameleons, iguanas, green lizards. Babe dint really like them. So she moved on to see the great crocodile. And what does she find there? One croc sleeping and the other hiding under a bridge. From there babe padded off to see the big animals and on the way found a pond full of dolphins! On going closer she saw that they were only sea lions. Oh those creatures bray like donkeys she thought. But they were well
trained. They were given fishes and were told to do a jig or two and they complied. Things like getting off the ledge and stop begging for fish. Moving on babe came to the ape section. Lots of monkeys and of different types too. Some werent even in cages. They were just in the center of a pond. Are monkeys afraid of water wondered babe. There were gorillas, chimps, orang utans and a whole host of them. But apart from the smaller jumpy ones, all the others were lazing all the others were lazing around. It dint help either that the sun was beating down on all the glass fronts of their enclosures and it was tough to even see them inside. All the more better. What do these tourists think aye?! By this time babe was a little lost but she found a direction-giving board. She cantered off to see the bear and the el'fant. And who does she spot on the way there? Cats! Wild cats all of them. There was the cheetah, jaguar, leopard, tiger, lions and the civet. But all of them were half asleep. The lion kept indicating with a nod and half closed eyes that he shouldn't be bothered. Next to the cats were the deer variety show. The big horned ones, the white ones. All sitting and dreaming. Then babe found the polar bear. Yoohoo. He looked so forlorn. So unhappy. So still. Babe felt sorry for him for his isolation.
A few feet ahead and what does she find. Another polar bear. Oh so that's the story she thought. These two are having a fight again! In front of the bears there were deers and emu from australia. These were busy munching on grass. Atleast they were active and babe was happy. She saw the el'fants. All of them had turned their behinds for display, not wanting to be perturbed by the crowd. And boy did they smell! After all this babe had ran out of patience to visit the giraffe and the zebra. So babe said ta-ta to the animals and got out of the Wilhelma.

What a joke - Siri babe's day out turned out to be the animals' day off :)
You wanna see photos that babe took? Click here


Some days start lousy

Alarm rings and I don’t care,
This is usual and nothing rare.
But with a headache oh so bad,
I don’t wanna get up am so mad.
T strokes my forehead with his hand so soft,
I turn the other way and tell him five minutes don’t talk.
I have work and must go,
Late to office, so I must heave ho.
But with a headache oh so bad,
I don’t wanna go am so mad.
Taking out my anger is easy,
For all the wrong reasons is crazy.
I throw a tantrum about every thing,
Alas to T true it doesn’t ring.
But with a headache oh so bad,
I don’t wanna back down am so mad.
I shout, I pout, I make a scene,
To put up with it T is not so keen.
Calm as ever the bike is backed out,
Ego raises its head and tries to show its clout.
But with a headache oh so bad,
I don’t wanna protest am so mad.
I get a drop, time and place perfect,
In the process I have myself lost a little respect.
Even with a headache oh so bad,
T, am very sorry I got mad.


Reality bites

The whole of this weekend I spent in front of the TV watching what is popularly known as “Reality” shows. Dance shows, live like a family shows, song shows and what not! You can take your pick from Saregama or Nach Baliye or Jhalak Dikhlaja or Big Boss etc. Where the first one tries to give a platform for budding singers all the others are only centered on celebrities. These shows have become so popular that they have replaced the gisa-pita saas-bahu soap discussions in the steamy (cooker da) kitchen banter! Bored aunties now have some exciting, adrenaline-pumping stuff to talk about. And please note that am still only talking about Aryan Vaid’s muscle show, Rakhi Sawant’s errr show, Malaika Arora’s one-pieces defying gravity, born not to perform couples lunging at each other in a dance or shocker Mona Singh winning a contest in true Jassi (underdog wins in the end) style.

Nach Baliye and Jhalak have people vying for the top spot in dancing abilities. While the former has married or to-be-married couples pairing up the latter has singles. Its a good platform for the budding choreographers but somewhere along the line it becomes all about the glamour, nakras and jatkas of the dancers and the choreographers only show their jhalak briefly. One whistle from Saroj Khan who is a judge on Nach Baliye and the participants dissolve into tears of gratitude as if their long tapas has finally borne fruit. But at least these days the ousted contestants are not creating a wail-y mess but are gaily moving on. On Jhalak we have three very cordial bored judges with their best smiles pasted on their faces. Can’t blame them for they have to judge dances of people who have never moved a leg side wards in their lives (barring one). And then you have to put up with the artificial sense of ohhh-losing-the-crown atmosphere created by the anchors.

Till recently I did not really understand the concept of a live-in show. On my trips to Germany I used to see a reality show which had a bunch of young people living in a house together day after day without the slightest corner of privacy. There were cameras everywhere including the bathrooms! I was a little shocked (blame it on the conservative brain) to even make any sense of why anyone would take part in it. And the show being totally in German did not help my understanding much. It was only when I saw a similar show on Indian television did I get enlightened.
The father of all reality shows has around 13 celebrities locked in a house with no outside access. Their antics beamed around the nation. Ofcourse they are all there for the money! The people on the show seem to be so contrived that you can almost see them peeling off their masks when they go to bed. While some of them are showing off their assets to best camera advantage (oh yeah they are completely aware of where those are placed), there are some who are try to woo you (the audience) all the time brightly chirping, there are a few who look and feel lonely and lost and there are others who act like mother hens!! All of them know they are playing to the gallery and they also need the money. They have to make a pretty picture with all the others while also voting in secret to eliminate the others one by one. It’s not that easy with the entire nation watching!

News channel NDTV became trendsetters with Big Fight and We the People where the common man is given a podium and a mike and an answerable set of people. This is getting drawn into the realm of entertainment also with reality shows. Its not too far when the show directors will air their shows live and The Truman Show will also become a reality!

I have a feeling we are in the renaissance period of entertainment where shows are about oneself and not some character one is portraying.


Hungry at 12

Does it happen to you often?
At midnight?
I find myself with a tremendous appetite around midnight most nights when am awake. If I don’t retort to the hints then my stomach takes it pretty personally and starts gnarling so loud that it can wake up our next door neighbor whose house is approximately 6 ft from my room wall!

I know the distance accurately because in Bangalore land is very precious (because it is scarce what with all builders taking over and because of its price). People would build on every square millimeter of land if not for some rules laid down by the corporation to prevent houses zig zagging into each others' compounds. There needs to be a gap of 3 ft from the compound wall between neighboring plots to the wall of the actual house itself. And this is all a Bangalorean worth his land is willing to sacrifice. In fact I was joking with our builder that I plan to make a temporary shack in the car parking area and give it for rent. There will be takers for sure.
Yeah all this banter has nothing to do with the subject of this post. But what you are reading here is my mind. When I get hungry I try and concentrate on all kinds of things including Bangalore Corporation rules in order to divert the mind! Whoever heard of snacking at that bizarre time. And that too after a full fledged dinner. Honestly what I crave for at such times are sweets. I dunno why but I develop a real sweet tooth around 12 AM :)

I remember this bus journey a few years ago. My dad was shifting to Bangalore (and we were with him to help) and his colleagues had come to bid him farewell. And as courtesy would demand it they also gave us a box of sweets. Now, the box was conveniently planted in a bag which was kept under my seat on the bus. At that time I was supposedly this pale travel sick little thing. At around midnight while watching Gumnaam (it was a video coach and the driver was obviously still in the 60s thingy) I became ravenous. Only after I neatly tucked in 10 Balushaai
(a 2 inch dia circular very sticky ghee layered sweeeet sweet)

in less than half hour and only then did I feel contentment! You could well imagine my parents’ surprise the next morning when they opened the book to find nothing in it.
And of course I am writing this with a growling stomach for company. Its 1 AM what do you think!

Should I go for that

peda in the fridge or should I not is the question!!


When one went on an outbound with team

The day began at a very nervous pace for when was the last time one woke up at 6? A push, dash and wash later one was yawny ready to begin the 3 day outbound that one was going on with my colleagues. An hour later than scheduled we were all neatly packed in the AC bus ready for a lullaby which would sound the dong for slumber. Sometime into the journey and there was an uprising among some of us to do better than dream which gave rise to some really dumb charades. A short break of fast later we fell into patterned rounds of card games in which some lost money some won and one other was left holding nearly two packs in his hands in a bid to bluff. We reached the sanctuary by mid afternoon. The sprawling place did not give us any hint of the jungle lurking outside. After a fine meal and some fine falls orchestrated at the hammock the guys found themselves in the pool. They were trying to play some kind of hand football or basketball or fight-for-the-ball. From a giant turtle wading through the waters ball in hand to catfishes fighting for a scrap of ball, it was a complete picture of team work. For some others siesta, shade and cycling beckoned.

One rode the bicycle after so many years and the fact that one could balance on it after a quaky start was enough to have made one's brother proud.

Awhile in the pool for the girls and we got out with the promise of making it more fun the next morning. In the dark night was our project's post mortem. Thankfully it wasn’t as grim as the setting and went on amazingly mature. The end result was such a criss-cross of lines and circles and scribbles on paper that one hopes the genius who created it will not go bonkers un-knotting it! Frantic search around the periphery of the dining hut yielded the place where one could "catch" signal on one's airtel phone. After a call to assure dear ones that one was missing them a lot it was back to having fun.

We went around the place with the fear and also hope that a snake would cross our paths.

When one discovered the futility of this we decided to retire for the night.
The next morning shone its shine with a lot of vigor for this was the first time one would get into a swimming pool. One felt extremely light headed and bodied in the water. Splashing about, playing "Monkey" in 4 ft of water and moon-walking across the pool was amazing. For the uninitiated "moon-walking" is what non-swimmers do in a pool. One of us swam, one of us discovered her fins, one of us grew a swim-wish and one kept cycling in water and felt like a mermaid.

The rest of the day went in training ourselves about something we haven’t quite figured out.

After dinner one group decided to not sleep. And found it very tough to come up with alternatives. Twenty questions was evoked but turned out that one can’t guess one's own trainer's name even using a hundred questions! Then we zeroed in on Pictionary. Now this can be a very gentlemanly game but not with our wild eye gestures and assertion qualities with pencil and some zooky movie names. One could even spot a straw coming out of an ear and going into the body of the sketch of man - and this was the realization of "I". Lateral thinking is all about Pictionary. Or wait is it the other way around? We had a giggly time just laughing at each other's sketches though. While some of them could simply make do with tick marks, some had dashes the size of the word. Hilarious, I say!

The next morning was a regular group photo/individual photo session coz we were returning.

One heard the guys had a blast playing polo in the pool early in the morning. One was fast asleep but one can easily imagine it would be like what was described earlier about the first day.
All in all it was a very nice, laugh out loud trip :)

You don’t need Kerala for rejuvenation therapies!

Hip hip hurrah!


Brain ka Noodle

This week has been one big drag on me - well, workwise
I cant seem to concentrate.
I cant seem to use my 'intelligence'
I cant seem to do any research
I cant seem to give status updates
I cant seem to jot down meeting minutes
I cant seem to do anything

Everything seems to end in a blur of personal happiness.
Its weird how when one is happy, everything else seems to be irrelevant. Even though my paisa vasool happens coz of those irrelevant things!
My only hope and wish is that everyone including my boss understands this ebb in me!
As for me am fervently hoping for tomorrow evening to cast its holiday spell on me


Ich liebe es

I've got blisters on the soles of my feet
I can't walk but am trying

Today is one of the happiest days of my life!
So what if I had to walk 2 kms in the hot sun
So what if I couldnt get a single bus to my destination for one and half hours
So what if they all whizzed past me later in quick succession
So what if they dint stop when I waved

So what if I couldn't get an auto on the long winding road
So what if I got bathed in mud

So what if i got tanned some more
So what if i got blisters on my feet
So what if i am limping now

(Not to mention all that hubby dear went through)
I and my hubby are proud owners of a house today.
An aashiana which we can call our very own.

Tra la la la

As they say in german "Ich liebe es"!


Story of Chaos

Traffic jam (whats new?)
After waiting for 20 mins at one spot, the bus lurches ahead and sees "road" at the end of the tunnel of mess.
The irate bus driver gestures "what the! what the hell do u think u are doing"
Traffic cop (balancing himself at the edge of a median-type stone) gestures back "Thale ketthogidhe (Going mad). Nanannee mele yerasbidthare (They will send me only up) saar. Adjust madkondu hogi"
Bus driver feels more sympathetic towards the cop than himself.

Not a single word is spoken though. Power of communication.



I just saw that I had last posted here in Aug! What did I do for a whole month? I am not sure I have even come here more than twice. Thats really bad for a blog that you own yourself isnt it?
We shifted to a new workplace this week. Honestly my first reaction was "Its congested". But that is kind of the patented "first reaction" to any new workplace rt? After spending sometime here I realised that the place is big enough for me. I mean what do I really need in a work place? A computer, a telephone, a place under the table to store my stuff and some place on the table for the mess I tend to create. Oh yeah a roof over my head and a constant access to a tea vending machine!
My friend once told me that when her father asked her what her brother (yet another software engineer) does at work she tried explaining about programs. But when it went at the 30000 height she told him that he sits in front of a computer and kot-kot-kots.
Hmmm I think that sums up a software engineer's work life. Come in the morning kot-kot-kot unlock system, kot-kot open mail, kot-kot-kot-kot and some more furious kot-kots later mails answered. Then coffee breaks, meetings, kot-kots, yak-yaks, a final KOT of relief to lock system and go home! So with this purview do we really need a huge space to call our own work station? Na-ha!


Taking Dr. Mallya literally

Background :
Biocon Ltd chairman and MD Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw interviewed UB Group chairman Vijay Mallya on the ills of Bangalore and the possible solutions for The Times of India and this particular part has relevance to what I want to say :

KM : How would you tackle traffic congestion in Bangalore?

VM : Bangalore needs to demarcate its Central Business District and use tolls, congestion fees and software to regulate traffic in the CBD. Cities like London and Singapore have successfully managed traffic congestion through these methods and I don’t see why we can’t do the same. Autorickshaws need to be confined to suburbs and banned from the CBD. We need to introduce car pool lanes on Hosur Road and Whitefield Road to ease traffic density. Bangkok has transformed itself from a mega-traffic-jam city to a free-flowing traffic city through a network of tollpaying elevated roads. We need to borrow from successful ideas and not try to reinvent the wheel. We need to implement the Metro and the Mono Rail projects at breakneck speed. Schools need to manage traffic in a more responsible way. We need more multistoreyed car parks. We need underpasses and overpasses to regulate pedestrian traffic and we need to prevent stray cows and dogs from impeding traffic as well!

CM : He hotly refused to burden the citizens with more taxes.

My take:
Day before yesterday our office shuttle driver decided to take a short cut through a layout in Whitefield to avoid all the traffic logjam on the now internationally (in)famous Marathalli bridge. So, there we were sailing "smoothly" through all the pot holed roads, which is the fact of life for most inner roads of Bangalore layouts. Suddenly we saw a group of guys jumping around on the road in the distance. We did not understand till we came up to them that the war dance that they were performing was to ensure that any approaching vehicle stops before it hits them. Ok so we dint have a choice but to stop, what with two over-enthu guys gleefully blocking the narrow road. The other two guys approached the driver and demanded Rs. 10. Our man was confused. Then one of the guys was kind enough to explain that it was (....now listen to this....) the "toll" for using that road! Many vehicles (cars, tempo travellers and the ilk) plying through erstwhile quiet neighbourhoods near IT hubs have become a menace for the people living there. The narrow roads are not tarred and with every passing vehicle a fresh drift of dust is ushered into every house. One cannot forget the noise pollution which the first-geared vehicles produce. Sometimes there are traffic jams even on these "short-cut" roads. Understandably the frustration of the populace mounts.

We got away that day without paying the ten rupees either because the guys were sheepish about their task or the driver was too much of a match for their wit.

Bangalore's citizens, even if its only jobless opportunist youths, are taking it into their hands to implement what Vijay Mallya suggested and what the CM would not! Is it the correct path? I dont know. I am not here to judge. Nevertheless, kudos to their guts and entrepreneurship!

Long Live Bangalorean Enterprise :)


These are a few of my favourite things

My current passion : ACCESSORIES!

Hoops, danglers, bracelets, brooches, bags et al....I love buying these and I love wearing/using them even more! My folks tell me I spend way too much on them but ab kya karen control hi nahin hota ;)

Bijou-Brigitte- For glittery, bling bling, colourful and sheer varrrriety this is a must go. This chain is not in India though. I love their gift wrap li'l bags the most!

Sia Art Jewellery
- Its an Indian chain. Amazing ethnic stuff you get here! But it all depends on how much you are ready to shell out. The lesser the money the plasticky the look gets.

Jute Cottage - Jute jute jute jute wonderful jute! Its in Bangalore.

Ballyfabs - The Jute Shop - I know there is one in Spencer Plaza in Chennai but not sure if they have opened one in Bangalore. Delightful shop! Designer stuff I tell ya..

Any of you reading this post is welcome to take this forward and blog about the shops you keep going back to, the shops that you buy most of your accessories from!


When Bruise Lee was in my next seat

Continuing with the in-flight experience...

When I am totally awashed with tiredness and long to rest, I always get a seat which is next to a fat person who is occupying half my seat or I get a "middle" seat and then my space gets encroached upon by two people or I have to cope with a bawling kid beside me or a sprightly kid behind me forever kicking my seat. When people sit beside me on a flight they like to assume that I am actually half my size or so I think, otherwise how can you explain the phenomenon of "elbow space". I never ever get to rest my elbow on my seat's hand rest - someone else has got there before me.
(I have a theory about how to solve the elbow space problem without losing out on the number of people you could stuff into economy class. Will tell you as soon as I can make sound a little less crazy).

The experience I am going to narrate now is a greatly different from what I have blabbered on above.
I got onto this flight. I was in a very happy state because, even though I hadnt managed to get a window seat even with my best am-a-good-little-girl smile, I had procured an aisle seat. Sitting on the aisle requires a lot of precision. Precision on where exactly you could place your legs without tripping anyone walking by and still make use of the luxury of stretching them out. Oh! you dont know how rapidly the air hostesses and stewards move about. I have personally seen a steward emerging from the first class section to economy, tripping on an aisle passenger's foot and landing on his nose half way across the deck. If I let myself ramble on, I can write reams of irrelevant stuff can't I?!!
So, I got to my seat and it was a three seater. There was a girl already at the window seat and nobody in the middle seat. I waited with bated breath to see if somebody would come to occupy the seat but very soon the plane's doors were closed. I turned towards the window-seat girl and gave her a triumphant smile. She dint understand the reason but she returned it. I explained to her very shortly with actions. I kicked off my shoes, lifted the seat handle and occupied half of the middle seat. I almost felt royal! The other girl was quick to grasp the meaning of this extra comfort and followed suit. We sailed peacefully through the air till I started to slumber. I dont know for how long I had slept when I woken with a huge thud on my head. In my sleep I thought the plane was crashing! I flared open my eyes and found myself looking straight into the window-seat girl's eyes. She was as bewildered as I was. What I found even more shocking was how I found her poised. She held the back of my seat with one hand and the seat in front with the other, her legs in the air. I was totally confused by now as to what was going on. All I could understand was that the thump on my head was beginning to pain a lot so I rubbed it. The girl sheepishly told me sorry and ran off in the direction of the rest room. As I became more awake I realised what had happened.
I was in deep sleep, so deep that my mouth was totally open. The other girl wanted to desperately use the rest room. She felt saddened at the prospect of waking me up from my meditative state so she thought why not try to get past without disturbing me.She recollected all that she had imbibed from the crouching tiger kinda movies. She hoisted herself in the air and would have landed safely on the other side of me, had she not misjudged the size of my head. Somewhere in the process her hand hit my head squarely on top and left me with a huge sore bump! Weirdness can only happen to me really! I mean, I get one and a half seats, and still I have to contend with those. Maybe I should just get back to remaining awake on flights.
Also, I want to thank the Lord for making me thick headed enough to suffer only a pain. But with my current track record in remembering things I would never know even if I lost some memory anyway!


On top of Bangalore

Bangalore - I think that very soon we might find this word in the dictionary as a synonym for traffic jam. The only thing that comes to mind when you think of this city is the snarling honking abusing polluting snakes of vehicles. From the drawing room discussion to the stand up comic traffic jams of bangalore have become a hot topic. Everybody has an opinion about how to build flyovers. Everybody has an opinion about how to control traffic. Everybody except the city planner and the traffic cop!
I am not writing this piece to crib about Bangalore's traffic. I think terabytes of data are already being used up for that purpose. What I want to talk about is a different view of Bangalore.
Its not that I was seeing Bangalore for the first time from the air but somehow this time the experience was different. You may attribute it to the fact that I had to endure endless traffic snarls to get to the airport that day but nevertheless the view from top was breath taking.

It was like long snakes zigzaggedly going through a forest full of fireflies showing them direction :)

The roads of Bangalore which look so complicated and messy when you are on them looked so easy to use and beautiful from the top. Minus the view of potholes the roads looked like heaven. I have seen other indian cities like Chennai and Mumbai from the air but none of them have the quality that Bangalore does. This is purely a Bangalorean's opinion so you are to call me prejudiced. Bangalore doesnt look like the jungle Mumbai does or a mess of criss cross like Chennai. It looks calm and serene. And the traffic it just looks so well disciplined. No matter if the car I am seeing from above as gliding is actually a call center cab overtaking a volvo from the left while trying to avoid the motorist to his left, it all looks well coordinated from above. Calm and composed is how I see Bangalore and I love it.

I now see the wisdom in the fact that lot of great devotees have written odes to God asking him to come down and have a look at the world. Well, if I am getting the view of serenity from a plane at 35000 ft, I can well imagine the grandeur that God would be seeing from way way way above us all.


Happiness is...

Sleeping for an hour more everyday after the alarm rings (Heaven!)

Heavy rain outside, Inside : cozy sofa, ------------------>(Use your imagination instead of picture)
hot cuppa tea, excellent conversation
(tra la la)

Heavy mist, me and my favourite guy

Stretched out in bed with a good book and a salt-and-peppered totapuri mango slice (slurp!)

This was her idea...carry it forward if you like!


My Blah Mind

I don’t know if its just me but my mind is always chattering. Ceaselessly. Even as I type this post, I can hear my mind chiding me for the spelling mistakes I made : “It is not ceaselessly it is ceaselessly. Go back and correct it” and so on and so forth. I don’t think I have ever experienced complete silence. Even if there is no noise around me my mind is talking. I close my ears sometimes just to see if it stops. But it only increases as if cutting even the remotest of outside noise is like adding fuel to fire.

We had a teacher in my ninth standard who tried to teach us unruly bunch of kids the art of meditation. Mrs. Vasundhara Reddy. God bless her wherever she is. She was one of the best teacher-guides I have ever had. Her method was to light a candle in the fore front of the room. We had to look at the flame for 2 minutes and then close our eyes and concentrate and see the flame in our mind’s eye for ten minutes. What happened in my mind was completely different.

“Why dint I wear a sweater and come today? Am so dumb. Hey! Concentrate on that flame”


“I wonder if it will rain today. Concentrate on the flame dearie. Yeah see that flame flickering. Concentrate. Concentrate” and so on and on.

Finally I learned to focus my mind on saying “Flame, flame, flame” so that I don’t feel exhausted after a meditation session :)

Seeing me sitting on my bed and looking out of the window for hours sometimes drove my mom nuts. She used to wonder whether I was normal. But for my mind it was the perfect thing to do. Sit for hours and chatter away with all those folds and nerve endings and gooey stuff.

Even now its telling me what to type next! I don’t like following instructions so am going to end it here. GRRRR


My first quotable quote

"You only have to start cribbing about or apprecitaing the weather in Bangalore and it changes!"

This is what I like about my dearest city :)

During lunch time me and a few colleagues were talking (crib crib crib)
about how hot Bangalore had become these days. And how in the good old days there was always a rain or two lurking around the corner just to quench our thirst for coolness.
Voila two hours later I hear reports from T about rain lashing down in some parts of the city. I love nanna bengalooru :) yippie
....and the rain always brings out the best in me..somehow charges me with those extra positives that would've been slipping!

In which I saw a devotional movie

It was a holiday with no prior plans. It started off quite harmlessly with me getting up only by 9 and then making myself so busy that the family couldn’t catch up with me to complain. The power of visual aggressiveness is huge…really *smiles*

By 10 T finally cornered me while I was pretending to be busy folding clothes and gave out a terrific idea. He wanted to make it a Parents’ day out. With us chaperoning them ofcourse *winks*. And so he went out on an errand to secure six movie tickets for the grand plan. He searched high (PVR Cinemas) and he searched low (Pallavi theater) and finally managed to find a guy in the latter who was willing to earn a few rupees more for doing a neat job of procuring tickets for us in absentia. Pallavi theater is one of the old world movie theaters where only one ticket is issued against one person.

We promptly reached the theater before the show began, collected our tickets and readied ourselves to watch the movie “Sri Ramadasu”. I readied myself to get bored. I have this thing about seeing movies which are about mythology or historical stories (kings and princes in skirts kinda movies) etc. My mind block tells me they are “uncool”. As I sat squirming in my seat for the first ten minutes refusing to accept that the movie was anything but boring T leaned over and whispered “Relax, just try and get to that mind set and watch, you will have fun”.

One thing that both of us observed was that mythological and devotional movies are best made in Telugu. It must partly be because of the lyrical quality of the language. Even a scolding sounds funny , for examples “gadadi” (donkey) or “donga na koduka” (thief) in Telugu sounds much better than say “nimmajji” (your grandmother) or “loafer nanna magane” (quite self explanatory) in Kannada. This is purely my opinion.

It’s basically the legend of Bhadrachalam -Lord Rama’s Temple in Andhra Pradesh. How it got built and who built it and why.

As the story evolved I got so involved in it that I did not notice the passage of time. At the end of the movie, I had the craving to go the Temple and experience the whole story again. Such is the power of a story well told or a movie well made.

This movie has become a box office golden goose across Andhra and Karnataka. I would recommend it to everyone. It not only brings forth a legendary tale but also unleashes in front of you the devotion and the madness of a people who no longer exist among us. When I can become a devotional movie watcher so can you!


What happened in Bangalore had nothing to do with mourning.

I cannot accept that people who got angry at being denied permission to see actor Rajkumar’s body wreaked havoc on the city. How can people claiming to be fans resort to such hooliganism on their idol’s natural death? Hooliganism was what it was. At its very worst. The channels that weren’t blacked out on the cable network had only pictures of violence to show. The rowdies even attacked the media persons asking them to focus on them instead of being sympathetic towards the police. What should the media have focused more on? The goons hitting policemen till they bled? Pranksters pelting stones at anything in their sight, which can break or bleed? Crazy mobs making a bonfire of buses and tyres? Just what was it that they wanted more focus on? Another rumor being passed around was that external elements were involved. That seems like a very practical conclusion. The Rajkumar fan club seems to have always been a very volatile group. All they need is a spark to ignite and unleash their fury. But was that what was required on a day when they were supposedly mourning for his passing away? Why couldn’t they give a tearful farewell to express their anguish instead of a bloody one?
I was at a Satyanarayana Swamy’s puja yesterday at a neighbour’s house. The prasadam was held up in Domlur with no transport to reach the puja venue. The gathered people were hesitant to go and get it. After much persuasion one uncle kindly agreed. But only after a big photo of Rajkumar was cut out from the day’s news paper and stuck on the windshield of the car. This was only as a precautionary measure to avert any stones being thrown at the car and to prevent mob attraction.
One of my friend’s car was stoned as he was going home on Wednesday night. What was supposed to do? Stay put wherever he was just because these goons want to mourn?
For Dr.Rajkumar’s family it must have been a nightmare. Granted that he belonged to the people of Karnataka and not just their family but was it this kind of violently behaved people that he belonged to?


How Kanjoos became Makkichoos

Once upon a time there was a bald headed flaky skinned thin guy called Kanjoos (Miser in Hindi). He was a miser of such miserable proportions that he would eat one piece of chapatti (Indian bread) over four days. How he would do that was very simple. On day 1 he would dip the bread for ten minutes in water (which was free courtesy the government) and then drink the water convincing himself that all the essential nutrients have been transferred from the bread piece to the water. He would use the same piece of bread and do the same process for the next two days. On the fourth day he would eat the piece of bread with relish and a sense of contentment much to the relief of his tortured digestive system.

One fine day Kanjoos went to a tea stall.

Now this tea shop had lore of its own. The shop itself was in the ground floor of a decrepit building bang in the middle of the commercial hub of the city. One wouldn’t notice it unless one was previously aware of its presence. While the exterior walls had pan (betel leaves) stains the interior walls held decades’ old grime. The proprietor Mr. Lal was not the kind of person who believed in the adage Cleanliness is next to Godliness. He was a short portly man who could use his protruding belly to hold anything from a book to a tea cup for him. He was shabby in his attire and always had a sleazy smile for his customers and a big knotted frown for the one other person who was a constant fixture in the shop the tea-maker-cum-waiter Shamsher.

Because of the low influx of customers the owner and server duo had come up with a novel scheme to reap profits out of the poor souls who did venture in. They had captured a fly, named it Leela and imprisoned it in a matchbox. Now using a fly as an accomplice in one’s monkey business is not easy. They had trained Leela for a number of months during the length of the day when there were no customers in the shop, which was a lot of time to make a champ out of the fly. Leela had been patiently taught to do one trick. As soon as released from the match box she would fly straight for any tea glass in sight. She just had to stick her body to the glass very close to the hot liquid. She would be rescued in a couple of minutes by Shamsher and would be rewarded with a few minutes of gluttony inside a dustbin.

Kanjoos strolled into the tea stall after having spent a nice miserly hour shopping in the markets. He was greeted by Mr.Lal with the same sleazy smile from behind the cash counter and belly. He returned the smile albeit a little hesitatingly for he was not used to any special treatment from any business men for the measly amount of money he would spend. He occupied the table in one corner of the shop not that it would make any difference. He could have had any seat for the whole shop was void of customers apart from himself anyway. But why Kanjoos chose that particular table was for a special reason. It was next to a window and just outside the window a person was sitting and reading a magazine. Now Kanjoos purported to do the same i.e. read that person’s magazine through the window of the tea shop. As he sat down Shamsher bounded to his side to get his order. Kanjoos ordered for half a glass of tea and settled down to read the magazine. He did not notice Shamsher return in five minutes with his tea. He sipped on his tea very slowly. Shamsher returned a couple of minutes later to ask him if the tea was tasty. Kanjoos failed to observe a matchbox in Shamsher’s hand which was opened in one fine movement. Leela was out in seconds and was hovering near Kanjoos’ table. She then dived into the glass of tea and stuck fast. Kanjoos was fast into the magazine story. Mr. Lal looked at Shamsher without a frown (which for him was the boss’ smiling face). Shamsher immediately hurried over to Kanjoos and informed him about the fly. He also put on a look of disgust to add a convincing touch. He politely clucked at the misfortune that had occurred in the tea glass and offered to him another. Of course the attitude subtly displayed that Kanjoos would have to pay for the second one also. But Kanjoos look unperturbed. He just glanced at Shamsher with a look of frustration and at the fly. He completely ignored Shamsher’s plea and turned towards the magazine. Shamsher not being able to handle the situation took a few paces back and glanced at his boss. The boss looked angry and the frown was back. He nodded strongly towards Kanjoos. Shamsher went back for a second attempt. This time Kanjoos even consented to say something to the effect of how much could a fly steal of his tea. Dully Shamsher looked back at his boss and shrugged. The boss was thunderous. His face had a huge black cloud which could burst open any minute. By the time Shamsher went back to Kanjoos’ table Kanjoos was very irritated with him. Not only had the guy outside the window gone ahead and turned the page but also Kanjoos, who had not been able to read the last column on the previous page, could not follow the story continued on the next.

As Shamsher opened his mouth in an attempt to implore once again, Kanjoos lifted the fly off the glass put it into his mouth sucked all the tea on it and threw it on the table. Lifted his glass drank up the rest of the tea, paid and left.

He left behind Mr.Lal looking at him with his mouth open and Shamsher bent over Leela wondering if she was alive.


Bubbaloobalaba Books!

I took a nice little quiz to find out what my reading personality is and here's the result :

Your Personality: All-Rounder!

Your responses showed you fitting equally into all four reading personalities:

Involved Reader: You don't just love to read books, you love to read about books. For you, half the fun of reading is the thrill of the chase - discovering new books and authors, and discussing your finds with others.
Exacting Reader: You love books but you rarely have as much time to read as you'd like - so you're very particular about the books you choose.
Serial Reader: Once you discover a favorite writer you tend to stick with him/her through thick and thin.
Eclectic Reader: You read for entertainment but also to expand your mind. You're open to new ideas and new writers, and are not wedded to a particular genre or limited range of authors.

You can take the quiz at Book Browse


Tagwork Status : Completed

Am in the right frame of mind after the blog de anger to complete my tag assignment.
Here is the list of things I hate :

  • Waking up early (that would be anytime before 10 AM) in the morning.
  • People telling me that I look sleepy when am freshest in my mind and wide awake (come to think of it I can’t blame them because I am sleepy half the time wrt reason in prev point).
  • Staying alone at home (which is contrary to situation before marriage hinting at chameleonic change of character).
  • People conveying their opinions about me or telling me what to do indirectly by voicing it in my proximity to somebody else.
  • Science fiction books and movies (except for Scary Movie series maybe).
  • The fact that Good food = lots of fat (notice the non usage of nutritious, when I mean good I mean extra cheese cream fried etc).
  • Traffic at peak hours in Bangalore (but as my hubby says it also means positive progress in standard of living).
  • Oh yeah can’t forget the loud burps that emanate from some mouths who think that’s the best way to express appreciation for the delicious food consumed (this is except for people who have a genuine gastric disorder).

At this point I stop because if adding on any more to the list needs thinking then its not worth showering any emotion on, even if its only hate :)


Rajdeep Sardesai packs a punch in his blogs too

Loved this post
http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/blog_entry.php?id=6290&author_id=1 .

The author is the Editor-in-Chief of CNN-IBN a conglomeration of Global Broadcast News (GBN), a TV18 Group Company, and Turner International (Turner) in India.

The Blank Noise Project blogathon

I might be a little late for the blogathon which was supposed to link all the participants on 7th but does it really matter. What I want to do is support the cause.
I am a woman who has gone through harassment more than once. Even if it was mainly verbal harassment it nevertheless made me want to burrow into a hole. It is very difficult to share one's own experiences of this nature. I tell my husband, it’s the feeling of shame that engulfs us more than anger at the offender when such incidents occur. Because if it was rage then I think eve-teasing could have long been abolished. But the attitude of looking down and scurrying away is taking its toll. When I was in school and had to go through eve teasing on the roads I used to wonder if these guys were perverts. Even middle aged b*****ds indulging in it. But today when I read news about young girls 8 yrs old, 6 yrs old, 4 yrs old (God almighty!) I am not left in much doubt. It is not very easy for a girl to tell her parents about the harassment that she is subjected to in public places. It requires a lot of courage. I developed the sense to handle such situations early in my life. But again I did this because it was easier to handle it myself rather than give it unwanted publicity by telling parents. What all could I tell them? The sleazy brush in the bus, the passing of lewd comments as one passed by, groping in crowded places, glances pointedly on one's chest area? There was this handicrafts exhibition we went to once. We here being my parents and me. There I spotted a guy who was tagging along with a stream of girls. He kept one of his hands in his pocket and if one observed one could see it moving back and forth. I don’t need to explain what was happening here but it made me feel so sick that I forced my parents to get out of that place as fast as we could. Would I have had the guts to stop this guy and question him? I don’t think so. Not in front of my parents. Another sick incident was in a crowded market place. Now, market places are the breeding grounds for mentally-deranged-sleaze-balls. One of this ilk tagged on to me as soon as me and my mom got out of the bus. His modus operandi was very simple. I was walking behind my mom and he kept in step behind me. Whenever there was a people jam he would rush up against me. The first time I gave him a dirty stare he seemed to look behind him and shrug. The next time it happened he stood askance behind me and I knew. This happened many times to his credit because it was just a fifteen minute walk. The next few times I just stuck my elbow out so that the creep would encounter a sharp jab. But it dint deter him! Finally to get rid of the menace I had to tell my mom about him and get her to walk behind me. *Sick*. They don’t just stop at letching at nubile young girls. It extends to any woman who does not have any obvious signs of old age.
What is in their perverted mind? How did such crappy thoughts enter it? Did they go to the same kind of schools that we went to (eve teasing is not the domain of only the illiterates)? Do they ever feel guilty? What do they get out of jeering when they are with their friends? Of course they are sure the girl will bend her head and walk away but will not come and slap him. But seen from the girl’s side its fear. Fear of repercussions. Can she afford to confront these creeps? Would it ruin her life?
One way of getting rid of it would be to have stringent laws and conscientious law enforcement officers. Ideally I would like to give sexual harassers whether mental or physical a lifetime in prison just to set a precedent but again I am not qualified to pass judgments. We should also try to get to the root of such a personality trait. All those questions I asked before are very important. Can we study the causes and come up with Prevention is better than cure mechanism? Can we teach men to respect women beyond the body? First thing I would do in this direction, would be to decouple the association of a woman to a child bearer. Leave the womb and the breasts out of the picture. There is much more to us than just that!
Let's start a revolution on Woman's Day



A bright new day. A break from everyday activities. Am enjoying today already inspite of it being only 8:45 AM yet. And to top it all I have been tagged by Neets. I am supposed to list down all things that i hate. Hmmm now me being a positive person blah blah and the other, I wonder how I am going to come up with a list. I can right away tell you that if there is one thing I hate most then its getting up early in the morning! Just can't stand it. No siree. But to come up with a list requires some soul search ;) and *thinking*. Will give that you in my next pohost.


Ctrl-C Ctrl-V

There was this cool meme on Granny's fantastic blog in which I shared my thoughts too. All I am doing it is copying it from her post's comments window on to my post.
All of you who read this are invited to post your thoughts.

  • Black and White or Color; how do you prefer your movies?
Black and White. There are some classics there which would just look best with that lighting. I love Mary Poppins and My Fair lady and a whole bunch of others.

  • What is the 1 single subject that bores you to near-death?
*thinking hard* and its kinda boring me awready :)

  • MP3s, CDs, Tapes or Records: what is your favorite medium for prerecorded music?
MP3s....its accessible

  • You are handed one 1st class trip plane ticket to anywhere in the world and $10 million cash. All of this is yours provided that you leave and not tell anyone where you are going … Ever. This includes family, friends, everyone. Would you take the money and ticket and run?
Really tempting...but i would sorely miss them so No!

  • Seriously, what do you consider the world’s most pressing issue now?
Terror which would find its roots in ignorance

  • How would you rectify the world’s most pressing issue?
I would want to shout out "Comeon ppl dont listen to all those pea brained sadists who are instigating you to unleash fear in the minds of innocent ppl" but then heck who will listen to puny me?

  • You are given the chance to go back and change 1 thing in your life; what would that be?
I feel things have happened to me at the right time. No regrets.

  • You are given the chance to go back and change 1 event in world history, what would that be?
I am not sure coz i would then be scared of the consequences. A known devil is better than an unknown angel!

  • A night at the opera, or a night at the Grand Ole’ Opry –Which do you choose? Movies *feeling small and looking at the floor*

  • What is the 1 great unsolved crime of all time you’d like to solve?
Whatever happened to all those pencils that i dropped under my seat in kindergarten?? It would just have vanished by the time i bent down to retrieve it!

  • One famous author can come to dinner with you. Who would that be, and what would you serve for the meal?
Arthur Hailey coz i want him to explain stock markets to me. I would serve him rasam(lentil soup) rice and curd rice with mango pickle.

  • You discover that John Lennon was right, that there is no hell below us, and above us there is only sky — what’s the 1st immoral thing you might do to celebrate this fact?
I dont need a reason *smirks*

The Strip

If there is one last place that I can go to then it has to be Las Vegas.
If there is one last fantasy that I can live then it has to be at Las Vegas.
If there is one option of getting rich quick I want it to be Las Vegas.
If there is one dream that will be fulfilled I want it to be going to Las Vegas.

It’s a beautiful place! Who would have thought of transforming a boring brown desert into one of the most sought after tourist and fantasy destination of the world. Till now I have only heard stories from there and never really got the chance to visit it. But I swear I will chance-pe-dance as soon as I can. I was seeing this program called Vegas Magic on Travel & Living yesterday. Couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw what they have done to revive the downtown area – they have covered it up with a canopy at the height of 90 feet with thousands of electric bulbs and it is lit up in a continuous frenzy of artistry every night! Can they get crazier than that? Or creative for that matter in another perspective!

I have heard first person accounts of the Bellagio and Paris casinos but believe me you, seeing is totally believing in this part of the world. They have gondolas plying on water in the middle of a desert maaan!

They have an Eiffel tower sitting snug in the surrounding glamour in stark contrast with its big brother in Paris which rises up magnificently above all its surroundings.

There are fountains (Bellagio) which would put our dancing dolls to shame with its jatkas and matkas.

I really did not observe the opulence of this casino when I saw it in Ocean’s Eleven. You really don’t have to travel around the world if you go once to Vegas. They have brought the world to one place “The strip”. Want to meet the Egyptians or look see a pyramid. No problem just step into Luxor.

If it’s Rome you want to lose yourself in then just choose Caesars.

Want to snuggle in the setting of Arabia they have Alladin for you.

Want to experience Vegas in style then MGM Grand is the place for you.

I realize that I have started sounding like a travel brochure but that’s because of my excitement at just the mere thought of Vegas. It’s a place where every person can have maximum enjoyment on his/her budget. Is there anything Indian out there? I am already getting a business proposition in my mind. Aha! But I wouldn’t want to call it Taj Mahal nor would I want to fill it with Persian carpets and elephantine elephant statues. I don’t like the idea of India only being known for its low costedness and the white marble giant or snakes. But again that’s another topic which I will take in another time and post. For now I want to travel deeper into the magic realm of Vegas if only in my dreams :)

Viva Las Vegas!