Heart to heart

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I will remember today as the day when V's first ever best friend moved away as her family relocated to another part of the country.  The event moved me to write a post about it although V firmly believes her best friend is going to be back in 45 days. They had apparently discussed the whole situation at length at school and had come to conclusions about many things including the fact that the best friend had to walk all the way to the new city (4 hours away by air) and V had to give her company. I dint know how to react to this apart from giving both of them warm hugs. Such a deep friendship at such an impressionable age! The teachers at school were all concerned about how they would cope with being away from each other but I think its the very memory of each other that will sustain them till they make new friends and possibly the next best ones.
It took me back to the time in my life when my first best friend Shadgunya moved away. I still have snatches of memory of her face and our play together. We were all of 6 years old. My school day descriptions would not be complete with atleast fifty mentions of her name and everything associated with her. We were last benchers and had a great time together. I even used to protect her long plaited, looped and ribbon held hair from getting pulled by some boys in our class! Her house used to be in the same compound as our family doctor's clinic in Hyderabad. So I would look forward to doctor visits in the fond hope that I would get to sit in the cane chair swing that hung in their living room. There was one particular incident which strengthened our bond. The nature of the incident makes me not want to reveal it in on this blog but it would suffice to know that it was an embarrassing one for her in front many in the school. I got wind of it and ran down to see her and I will never forget the look of appeal in her eyes to not be judgemental. Being a kid helped us put it behind us and move ahead with daily business. In the recent past I have tried a lot to find her on social networking sites but in vain. I wont give up yet. Every friend has a hand in sculpting one's attitude towards life and because of her I learnt fortitude.

Life just happened to V and her best friend as they pranced around the playground and slid down the slide two together. The artwork that V will bring home will not have her best friend's mark on it like before. They both have a lot of love for each other and for everyone else which shone through in their art work which was dominated by hearts and rainbows. I am pretty sure they will both spread sunshine and love wherever they are and as a parent I can only try to show V ways to keep in touch.

Laughter, where art thou?

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A quiet giggle behind the hand clamped over mouth. A full throaty laugh when there were no reprimands. Easy laughter, easy. My earliest memories in this domain are from the time we moved to Bangalore when I was nearly 10. Back in those days my brother and I were camped out at our uncle's house. Dinner time brought the whole family together and with it brought a great deal of entertainment and physics. The latter deserves a post unto itself. Our cousins were younger to us and being boys were as boisterous as they could be. I remember that a pout on my easily offended youngest cousin's (all of 6 years old then) face was enough to extricate a guffaw from me. I was constantly being inducted to the little ladies club by my uncle's constant harangue against my giggles. My laughter was easy and infectious. There were many occasions when my grandma or my mother, induced by my laughs, would let slip a smile in a stern situation. I could be made to laugh with the slightest provocation and my brother mostly showed this off to the world, as would a magician his tricks. All he had to do was say "heeee" and I would start uncontrollably laughing. As I ploughed through school and college I have frustrated innumerable friends with my inscrutable smile and yet I never stopped smiling. When I started working, a colleague had once set me apart as the one who is always smiling behind her computer screen. Made me sound like a lunatic in that forum but I knew it was true. I couldn’t get myself to stop laughing at the hilarious forwards. I have even intimidated with my smiles, a prowess, unintentional as it were, I have not been proud of. Recently, my parents came to stay with us for a couple of months and a few days ago my dad made an observation that shook the ground from under my feet. He said he doesn’t see me smiling or laughing any more. I realize now that my secret feelings about V and her dad enjoying life in spite of me were true. I no longer am able to smile easily let alone laugh. I don’t find a 4 year old's pranks or petty cranks funny enough to laugh. I can’t defuse a tense situation with laughter anymore. Oh I can fake a smile and bring out extremely good variations in photographs. But where is the original giggle gone? Did I lose it as I trudged through shallow goals? I have seen people all around me become kids around my darling daughter and I am the only grown up. I have lost the only power I ever had, growing up, as a superhero.

Today traversing through Twitter I found a cure for my troubles - face yoga. It gave me a ray of hope and filled me with optimism. I don’t think my non-smiling behavior is because of an attitudinal change. I think its because of my cramped muscles. Use-disuse theory in full effect right now. Just like how my leg muscles cramp up from just sitting my face muscles have cramped up from just staring at computer screens for 16 hours a day. I have reached the Web 4.0 equivalent of feelings where my mind produces a virtual smile in its recesses which ripples through to the computer screen directly without ever touching my face. HCI is at the core of this breakthrough innovation. Anyhow, I am relieved that this ailment has a cure too and will now promptly download the android app which will help me do face yoga every day.

This too shall pass.

I hope I don’t get into the Web 4.0 equivalent of doing face yoga (computer relaying direct to brain, and only my thoughts performing yoga and never reaching face) like I have with the rest of me.

Do(aw)n of online movies

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"Don ko pakadna mushkil hi nahin (pause) namumkin hai...phooo" blowing smoke through mouth (or is it nose?)

Don will be smoking six packs nervously if he finds out amazing prints are available all over the internet for free!

The first time I came to the US was exactly 9 years ago. Though the stint dint last too long (thanks to various people I worked with, who assumed roles of king makers) it left a lasting impression on me. The main one being that unless you have a car and can drive around, weekends are very boring. Internet was the mainstay but there was not much content to watch. Cyber life was more about the written word. Subsequently I made many trips to Europe with no marked difference in the boredom levels (especially since internet was free only in the lobby, and who wants to watch a movie in the lobby of a hotel anyway?). Except that I became savvier with each trip and ensured I would get away over weekends. The first time I travelled was with a huge collection of songs to while away my time. It was then that I realised I am not armchair romantic material and would easily get bored of inactivity. The subsequent trips made me graduate from carrying VCDs to DVDs to downloads to drives. All of them movies ofcourse. Lot of hard work went into preparing for such trips. It was my previous trip to the US, 4 years back, when I truly discovered the potential of content. In my 3-month stay I quickly became an expert at searching for movies online. Like a jeweller I became adept at picking out the gems from the pool of bad prints. This skill has stood me in good stead on this trip. Sometimes I think we enjoy movies more now because of the economics involved. In the world of non-originals deflation is the key. But mostly we dont have a choice, being stuck with the only kid in the world who hates stepping into theaters. (It took us 5 minutes and Rs.800 to discover this 2 years back). We are well endowed with odd genes.



Abhi baat khatam kya. Yeh saala Don ko pakadnaich mangta kya. *Rubs hands in glee on finding DVD quality print for free*

Smells of childhood

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Today morning started with me trying a new recipe for Kichdi (yeah rt!). I dint know it then but by the time I was done cooking I had inadvertently cooked up the smell from my childhood. My mom makes a dish called "Uppu Pongal" which is the first cousin of the Kichdi. This was a smell that I used to abhor growing up. More so because I did not relish this dish. I never understood the combination and found it distasteful to eat yellow rice laden with pepper and jaggery pieces on the side. Many a fight between my mom and me were over the edge of the plate. There were many more "thindis" that I did not like to eat including, shock de resistance, dosas! Amma couldnt tolerate my whining after some years and she discovered her brahmastra against such unreasonable behaviour. Shavige Payasa. Yes, the humble payasa was and continues to be my favourite dish. On occasions where she had to thwart tantrums, she would make this in the simplest of manner. No glitz of ghee or dried fruits. And that is the version that I still love and only my mom can make it best!
Imagine my joy when I returned from school, got the "yuck" smell of pongal, dosa, uppit etc and my mom would hand me a huge cup of shavige payasa!
Happiness was so simple then....

The job-hunt sitcom

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This is one thing I never thought would happen!
I am itching to get back into the corporate rat race over the past few days and as a first step have posted my skill sets on many job sites. As a consequence I have been getting some very interesting calls. While some of them are genuinely helpful others provide me with genuine entertainment. Most (read 95%) of the recruiter calls that I get have an Indian on the other side of the line too. Some of them are thoroughbred professionals who know to separate the rice from chaff. But some of them are so hopeless that I am left wondering whether they are selling me soap powder. Many of such conversations are hilarious to say the least. With all due respect to their intent, I am a little apprehensive about working with people that I absolutely dont understand and those who have an atrocious understanding of information technology.
The job calls that I get have a set protocol. The first call is always from the scout who is like a look-out on the ship's mast and has to report each and every spotting to the deck hand below. After he collates my details which is mostly my mail id and compensation, I am informed that the "boss" will give me a call. Now, this boss is the person who decides that my resume is not well written and proposes a 1000 changes to it. After numerous to-and-fro's and me sticking by my resume the boss reluctantly gives in and says that my case will now be taken up by the marketing team. This marketing team is the ghostly 3rd character. You never get to meet them or talk to them but everyone from their company talks of them with great reverence. "There will be a team of THREE (emphasis on this like their life depends on it) marketing your resume all over the US" is supposed to garner awe and gratitude amongst us job hunters. Whatever!
Well, its been an experience so far with its ups, downs and laughs.

Here is an excerpt of one gem I got today:

Hi Siriroop
Hope you are doing good please go throw our company profile .
Blah blah. And amidst that they purportedly are going to provide training in a Reporting tool called "Congo's"
Awaiting response from you……
Thank you.
So-and-so

Get Real on HD

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T and me watch some reality shows in the sense of "that thing we do together" apart from movies, chatting, travel, outwitting V and having fun. We have been hooked to the big reality show Bigg Boss for the past few years. (I think we derive some perverse pleasure in seeing contestants squirm with embarassment, seethe with anger and reek of unnaturality.) This year we had to champion the cause of desi support in the videshi land by searching for the best unofficial HD recorded videos of this show. I would wait till evening with mounting enthusiasm and as soon as T would be home I would hurriedly shove a coffee cup in his hand and click on the play button. For the next one hour we would be lost in the world of the bawling contestants seeing them put on make-up, letting down their guard, shouting, screaming and eating! (Like one contestant pointed out they made 70 rotis a day!!). This everyday for 3 months. Last Saturday all the drama folded up with the finale. It left me high and dry with a lot of excitement still suspended in my system just like after a raucous wedding. "What to inject from next week?" screamed my mind. There is a possibility that the sound may have emanated and T might have heard the scream. He has shown me inspiration for the weeks ahead by searching for the HD online videos of MTV Roadies. Yes, that reality show which evokes the "I hate you like I love you" emotion has started! Should I even mention that I am hooked? Life is good again. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Photo Hoyitho!

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Our camera suddenly stopped focusing in auto-focus pre-programmed and programmable modes. I dint realise I was so attached to my canon till last weekend when this problem started. After a lot of barking up the wrong tree, I found a rather simple solution to the problem. The outer ring of the lens seems to be jammed and firmly moving it while focusing solves the problem. The reason for this I believe is another simple act. The act of putting away the camera after use. Our camera bag is shaped such that the camera needs to be shoved in lens first and in our hurry to capture our lives we are not too gentle with it. I dint know this but we should never store the camera in a bag lens first!
I have tried out the solution under a tungsten light and seems to be working well. I should however test this in daylight.
Crossing my fingers and hoping it will work!

Update from next morn :- It dint work :( Camera still does not focus

Increase tempo Walk faster

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I made a major discovery in the past few months. The music I listen to while walking changes it from dawdling to a power walk!
Earlier I always used to listen to songs I like which mainly were soft romantic numbers. Either that or listen to FM radio in Bangalore and I would have heard about 20 advertisements in my 30 minute walk. These past 4 months I have compiled a super duper walk playlist and each of the songs makes me get a spring in my step. The zing about these songs is in the beat in the background. All you need to do is match your step to the beat and you are automatically walking faster.
One of my favourites is



Just walk to the beat!
Today's is a very small post, am beat :)

Mirror mirror on the wall

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One wall in my bedroom is host to one of the most entertaining mirror I have ever had. It reminds me of the days when the most interesting outing of the year used to be to the Annual Arts and Crafts Exhibition.

I lived in Hyderabad as a kid and all the four of us used to ride astride a Bajaj Chetak scooter to the Nampally grounds every year to this exhibition. It was something that we used to wait for with excitement soaring. And it never failed to appease. The chilli bajji(of which I used to eat the bajji part and my dad the chilli part), the camel rides (which I only used to stand to a side and watch since I was chicken), the endless walk through the fair grounds, the smell of fresh popcorn and cotton candy, holding on to my mom's finger lest I get lost and a whole host of memories. One of the things I remember vividly is the house of mirrors. My favourite was always the one which made me look taller. But the most hilarious was the one which made you look like humpty dumpty.

The mirror we purchased seems to be a distant cousin of this risque gang. The speciality of this mirror is that it can make me happy. I have discovered that the farther I stand from it, the more elegant the size looks and the closer I get to the mirror, the bigger the proportions get. As can be concieved, I do not preen at myself in this mirror. I only use it to give me the shot of confidence whenever I need it.

My mirror has become the epitome of denial. It shows me what I want to see. I read in a fairy tale about an evil step-mother wanting the mirror to tell her what she wanted to hear. Now I have realised why she was so desperate!

My mirror reflects the state of my mind.

What does it take to reach God's Lotus feet?

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After a long time, I listened to one of my all time favourite songs

The english translation for the first 2 lines is:

Can I ever find a way to climb the steps of Nirvana to reach your lotus feet? Can I ever be blessed with your servitude?

The emotion behind the song gets me to the verge of tears everytime I listen to it. I saw this movie eons ago at Hyderabad when life still revolved around Doordarshan. There were two movies which moved me to tears at that impressionable age and this was one gem.

The ultimate holiday destination for all human beings is the transcendental Heaven. Between here and there we have Life. Through this life we live in self doubt of some form or another. A doubt which manifests itself into asking the ultimate question in many lyrical ways. As human beings we do not want to be over-confident or egoistic about God. To thwart such aforesaid doubt we have an essential need to be patted on the back. Every once in a while most of us need to be told we are on the right track. Every good deed done clamours (even secretly) a 3rd party glorification. Personal and professional fronts join hands in this one quest. Work is worship said some wise man. Some of us with software engineering bug in our systems write divine code and wait with bated breath for the nod of agreement at our self appraisal. We run behind life’s carrots like bulls in a rampage calling it God’s will. We take every success in our stride and put every failure faithfully into the God-knows-why bucket.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the seed which grows the social media tree. Even a half baked thought could be entered into a daily contest to be adjudged by all and sundry. The number of likes and the number of comments garnered leads to self gratification. After all it is the feeling of being loved that we chase all our lives in the fond hope that it would get us to the enlightened path where you don’t need any street light to see where you are walking.

Cheers to God . QED.

Life as a Sonnet

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Looking out at the gloomy skies,

Greeting the sun, driving away the shies.

A little fight lost,

Brushing teeth at any cost.

A big battle won,

School for the little one.

Cooking cleaning and admiring,

Yoga flexes my bones and wiring.

Happiness as the school bus deposits,

Lunch pleas and bath as time flits.

Cozy evenings spent with toys,

Lego cities brings all round joys.

Night bears down fast and dark,

Dinner and to dreamland we would embark.

Bonus lines:

All through one friend stands by me,

The steadfast and loyal TV.

An update on the previous post [LIKELY JUNK]

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After I wrote this post complaining about my mail server in a public forum, the mail server has mended its ways and now does not attach [LIKELY JUNK] to T's mails. If anyone else (who has my office id, which ofcourse I will not give out here) is interested in testing the temperment of the mail server, please send me a mail to my office id.
Thanking You,
Yours Sincerely,
I-Believe-All-Problems-Can-Be-Resolved-by-Communication-And-Proper-Escalation

[LIKELY JUNK]

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That's what my mails are awarded with these days. No matter if they are from my best friend or from a viagra seller. The junk sorter at my work place is taking no chances. At a time when my self-esteem feels very much like the subject attached to my mails, it comes as no surprise to me that the mailbox is dolloping hints. A few people I reply to have registered their complaint at their mails being called junk by the inanimate mail server and have threatened to sever the communication thread if their respect is not restored. I dont really have the perseverance to change the mail subject just for their gratification. Unfortunately.

T has now reconciled to the fact that my mail server shouts atop the roof that he is adding to the already large amount of useless and unwanted bytes flowing through it. Thankfully it does not deter him to ignore me when am at office.

His latest mail epitomised it as : [LIKELY JUNK]chill

Hugs!