Constant Change

The kid finished 2 years last Friday but the happiness was muted thanks to her ill-health of late. We have been visiting the doctor almost every week for the past one month and she must be tired of the various ointments, creams and syrups we have been trying on her. Hope the new year will be better. This whole week I'm going to be at home so I'm looking forward to spending time with the children.

I'm reading Dalrymple's "White Mughals" and it's an interesting one. I read on in the night yesterday despite my sleep-deprived eyes so my dreams were full of Aristu Jahs, Kirkpatricks, Wellesleys and Nissas. Actually I got it as a gift from a colleague 'Santa' last week and after discovering that I was into reading, he has been flooding me with recommendations of books and authors of all sorts. He seems to be a bachelor with a lot of spare time and I've been trying to tell him that my condition is just the opposite and that I haven't had the pleasure of guilt-free reading for ages now. The problem with being discovered as a person with certain 'tastes' in a workplace where majority is bereft of it is that it makes both yourself and others think highly of that virtue in you.

Thinking of the book, whilst in Hyderabad, I got the feeling that the majority wanted to believe that the Old City didn't exist. I never heard anyone talk of the city's historical past and glory and even Shab was happy only to shop for bangles and perfumes in the market near Charminar. May be it was because most of my colleagues were not from Telangana, may be because most of them were Hindus and did not think greatly of the Nizams and I don't know how far the Hindu representation was there in Nizam's court(in the pages I have read so far, I haven't come across any major figure), may be because of the late Razakar movement...Not that I was greatly aware of my own state's part in it or anything. Now I want to visit the Bidar fort.

Work is dragging and I'm at my wit's end to keep myself interested in the proceedings. Of course being in support has its moments of fun but they are mostly cheap thrills only. I think I should join the German classes next week. The only problem would be if they ask me why I want to learn German. I don't have a definitive reason for it; a new language and may be some new insights into a new culture.

Numbed and Stirred

Just as we were getting used to our daily dose of rape cases and were all set to treat them to be as normal as eve-teasing, the Delhi incident has given us all a jolt. I'm relieved not to hear any remarks on what she was wearing(which I'm sure some would be speculating on) to provoke the beasts and I hope the police have kicked them enough in all the right places by now. What material must these men be made up of? I don't think any other animal treats the female species so inhumanly(the word itself shows that!). I only hope the brutality of the incident doesn't become the new benchmark for us to be outraged and we as a society give such men what they deserve.

Timed Out

Life has been so hectic for the last some days that I feel more like a machine and less like a human being. After trying unsuccessfully for the past one month to start for home at 5:30 every evening, I finally succeeded in bargaining that time to before 7 and that feels like a great achievement. So days and days are piling up behind me, each unrecognisable from the other, and giving me only discontent. Weekends are no better at all and yesterday I was so tired that I had to turn down even an ordinary request of an outing to Lalbagh and Rishi was furious with me, later confessing that he even cursed his luck of having a parent like me. There was nothing I could do about it anyway.

The test series has finally ended and I don't think it will have any serious impact on how we will do from here on. I don't see anybody around who can make that impact either. Espnstar.com has a banner which says that the English deserve a 'desi' welcome and urges the viewers to participate in "Angrezon ki Pungi Bajao' exercise. But everytime I went to check the scores, it was only Englishmen who were busy in the "Pungi Bajao' business and I always ended up laughing.

Thought of writing something today but thoughts seem to have just dried up. Sitting in front of blogger is also a luxury these days; the moment I sit in front of laptop my mother thinks I'm doing officework, my son remembers his videos, my daughter her songs and my husband is upset that I could spend that time talking to him. So most of the times I feel guilty or pressurized and banish the thought of writing anything. Nothing to write home about as such!

Surprises

Yesterday morning when I was walking towards the office, I found a 50 Rs note on the side of the track, next to the line of bushes. I thought of putting it in some welfare fund that we have in the office but just before reaching I saw a couple of ladies clearing the area near the plants and it struck me that the way the note was folded, it could be one of theirs. I left a couple of them and went to the third one and I had just started, "this note was fallen there, if it is any of yours..." when she lapped it up, showed me her shirt pocket saying it fell from there and went back to work. I could only think what happy coincidence it was.

Does it happen to you that every time you watch a certain movie on TV from the same point? It's happened to me so many times. I flip the channels and come to a movie to find that it is at the same point as I watched it last time. Some deja vu feeling that is! So it has happened that I have missed the beginning of quite a few movies but the fact that I have not bothered to watch them on DVD shows that I didn't miss much I guess.

Ponting has announced his retirement and I'm going to miss him. With the retirement of Warne, Murali, McGrath, Dravid, Lakshman  and now Ponting, I'm feeling that an excellent chapter in cricket is coming to an end. Hope he goes out on a high note, doing very well in his last match. So must many be hoping around the world.

I got my IT-refund credited within two weeks!! Last time I had a refund was a decade ago and they had taken an year to send me a cheque. This was a real pleasant surprise.

Got connected the linked-in way to SB and PM, two of the best people I know. But after clicking on the 'Connect' button, I've got caught in 'it's-been-so-long-will-they-really-write' sort of hesitation to proceed further. I think I'll still try.

Rule of Inaction

Our cities are giving so much indication of anarchy than any governance these days. Starting from reckless driving on the road and greedy auto-drivers, we have stinking lanes, dirty and neglected roads, illegal constructions, unchecked construction of temples anywhere and everywhere, thefts and murders of helpless people, people going on rampage and damaging public and private property, assaults on people by goons, gangwars and killings in the broad daylight and I don't know what else. And Bangalore seems to stand out as the perfect example for all these things. In some of these cases, things get noticed by the authorities only after enough people complain about it or a TV channel focuses the camera there and sometimes not even after that. In some other cases, say in the case of an illegal temple or construction, most people are scared to complain at all and if some of the braver ones go ahead and do it, they find the authorities scared too; scared of the mob so that they would give all sorts of excuses not to do anything about it unless probably a court gives an order or something. I mean, if people supposed to be in control of things behave like that, where should the common man get confidence from? I don't think anybody who gets any position of power, however small that may be, has any vision of doing his duty nowadays. All they want to do is making money. My only hope is that Rajnish Goel is different and will at least set some things right while he is the head of BBMP. Now it also reminds me that I need to go to their local office tomorrow to complain about a drainage nearby. They will direct me to BWSSB but they also have some work unfinished there.

Thanks to the brisk and massive construction work going on nearby, there is ample dust all around the place and however black I polish my shoes, by the time I reach office they look as if I haven't touched them for ages. When you stand in the lift, people invariably look at others' shoes and I wonder if I'm creating an impression of being the laziest person. Actually, I'm not even taking the dirty track around the lake anymore; one rainy day by sheer lack of choice, I landed at the backgate and found a world I had never seen before. Then I walk all the way to the other end along the pavement, giving a total bye to the lake which is not yet 'purified'. In the process, I even found that Samsung Lake had a name given to it by our forefathers. Seems at the right time because recently realized that Samsung had shifted base elsewhere!

Work is being quite hectic and we are all still waiting for the 20-odd 20-somethings to learn the functionality and give us some confidence.Very few have shown the inclination to learn the module and all that most want to do is work on java as if that is the ultimate 'job-satisfaction'! I don't even see the basic aptitude or sincerity in many! Boys are marginally better than girls may be because they don't have the distraction of going to the restroom thrice a day to deck themselves up. If only they had half the enthusiasm that they invest in facebook for work, all of us would've been a happier lot. As I can see, most have come here only for a foothold in the industry and will not stick around for long. I guess their generation is different after all and we should stop expecting engineers to be interested in banking the way we were and instead train commerce guys to use our software which is hardly a big deal.

I uploaded a couple of P's old and new photos on facebook yesterday and he's amused by the alacrity with which they have been liked, especially by some of his college friends who saw his face after ages.

The Aftermath

The streets have finally fallen silent. But the tell-tale signs of the blasts are everywhere - lifeless forms of Lakshmis, Jumbos and others smaller and bigger specimens lying in heaps now indicating the amount of money that went up in smoke!!

My grandmother's death-anniversary today and my mother left for her place yesterday. She had asked me to give her some money for some ritual there and I was glad I could do something for her for once. But no. The idiot that I am, I totally forgot that she was going and ended up coming home only after she left! Felt like kicking myself, really.

Now the ritual that I mentioned is a strange one. The families where each of the children of the deceased is married to, should buy clothes for all the children. I mean, now my mother has seven siblings and each of the 8 families where their spouses come from, should buy clothes for my mother and her seven siblings because they have lost their parent!! This is on the occasion of the first anniversary only. Pappa says it is like congratulating them on successfully completing the tribulations of the first year - apart from the bereavement, they are not even supposed to celebrate any festival or any special occasion that year etc. It sounded like the 'hardship allowance' that we have!

My brother-in-law has had a second girl today and I know that everybody back home is very dejected. That is a place where dowry is only increasing by the day and unlike our places, parents of the girl cannot think of staying with the daughter unless they are rich and the daughter is staying with them with the resident son-in-law. So I've not seen even a single family with only two daughters - they will have at least four daughters and then only give up hopes on having a son. Now both my younger brothers-in-law have two daughters each and everybody is worried about the future already. Of course it's not that the kids are not taken good care of; they are the darlings of the household but in private, the elders sigh. But I do think 20 years is a long time and things will not be the same. Winds of change are already on, at least in terms of girls going out, studying and working subsequently.

Past, Present and the Future

V had asked me to bring our stamp collection from home and I must admit that possessiveness took hold of me for a moment when I was going through them. Being older than V, it was I who started the collection and I guess it was all because of Gajumaava who was in Indonesia then and used to write to us regularly. But there were many around me who had the same hobby and that created the competitive collection. There was my neighbour Poornakka who had a smaller collection but she had Jordan with her which I coveted badly. But my closest rival was my closest friend S and we literally did 'beg-borrow-steal' to outdo the other. Our primary sources were mostly Muslim boys and girls who invariably had some or the other relative in middle-east. Of course being a Christian, S also had relatives elsewhere and I was glad to have Indonesian and occasionally Malaysian stamps to offset that advantage. I think when we were small, we traded stamps for some other commodities but as we grew up, our classmates started parting with them willingly. But S and I used to be the monitors generally and the poor things would be in a dilemma as to not upset the other by giving a stamp to one of us. It would all be under-the-table transaction and the one who thought she alone got it would give proud meaningful smiles to the other. Irshad, Yasmeen, Rasheeda, Kenute....so many of them I should be thankful to for the collection we have made today.

I met one of my batchmates while at my place when I took his auto to return home from BCR. His face vaguely looked familiar but so do many in a small place like mine. But when I gave him money, he addressed me by name and asked me if I remembered him and I felt pathetic but I told him the truth. Actually most of the childhood faces have faded from my memory so forget the juniors and seniors, even my classmates I won't be able to recognise. Many used to be autodrivers but they've all vanished for the past 3-4 years. Many of my girlfriends were Muslims and now unless they hail me from inside their burkhas, there is no way I can find them. But after this incident, I got all confused and when I went to BCR the next day, gave a big smile to a guy standing next to me thinking he was my classmate sometime but he didn't seem to think so and returned only a half-smile. I think I will get into a controversy soon...

My daughter's horoscope is finally out. It seems she is going to be arrogant and irreligious among other things and we're trying hard to find some early signs. As of now, she seems to be only a cry-baby and quite attached to the photos and songs of God. One thing is for sure, she is going to be one tall girl.

Festival Time!

The smoke of DeepavaLi has filled the air all around. Look anywhere and you can't escape the noise, the smoke and of course their better cousin, the light. I'm scared to go out these two days anytime after 5 in the evening, not so much because of smoke as for the fear of stepping on a live bomb that the children and elders alike would've planted on the roads. Everybody wants their share of light and noise and after a while, even the beautiful stars that light up the sky in every hue begin to get on my nerves. My husband and son have gone upstairs to finish our couple of rockets and we ladies have kept ourselves to window-celebrations.

Office wore a deserted look yesterday and even the non-celebrating Malayalis had taken the occasion to have a 4-day holiday. Naturally the bugs also didn't stream in like other days and the ones remaining in the office had a much better time. One of our fellows will travel to Egypt next week or so and when we were talking about it, asked me if I never went abroad. I told him it was only once and he told me he thought I had lived in the USA for years! He only smiled and didn't explain the reasoning and I wonder what makes people have all these impressions.

My father is in his native place for DeepavaLi this time and even Chouti he celebrated there. He goes there at the drop of a hat as if he is making up for his younger days when he hardly visited.

My daughter is getting vociferous in her protests these days and milk and comb are in her bad books already. It is mandatory to sing her to sleep and she wants a new song every second day! I'm eternally grateful to 'Jhenkara' programme that used to be on radio every Sunday when we were kids. They used to sing the same song for 4 weeks and those very hummable songs have remained with me and are keeping my daughter happy till now.

On Familiar Grounds...

Eyes are regaining some sanity after days of starvation, especially on the day of journey home. What a crazy journey it was!! After seeing the rough Mysore crowd there I once again remembered how well-behaved our Mangalore public is. There was a TuLu-speaking family in the same situation like us and they were cursing the crowd in their tongue which only I could understand.

Only one good thing came out of all the ruckus and I saw Mysore in the night-time. But of course the better sight was our own area early in the morning - all vegetation lush green and covered in the morning mist and the dew covered grass made me want to just run and walk on it barefoot. One day I want to come back here and live the rest of my life, I'm sure about it. I'll trade the damn 'great-dry-cool' weather of Bangalore at throwaway price for the humid,sweaty skin of my place anyday.

Went for a walk in the evening to the schoolground and found my old headmistress taking a walk too. Everyone else is fine but even her mellowed-down persona does not remove the feeling of terror hidden down my heart. But she does not seem to think of my student days at all because everytime I've met her, all she knows is that I'm in a decent job and may get a job for one of her kin; this time it is her son-in-law. I understand and will try to do what I can but don't know if it'll all work out for her.

Got my daughter's ears pierced finally, though God knows for what or whose happiness. Even my son who didn't see her cry her guts out can figure out that the ear-rings don't serve any great purpose but my mother will not hear any such nonsense. All she's worried about is that the neighbourhood will ask her why she hasn't done the needful for so long. Grrr...coming to think of it, that's one drawback of my place; everybody wants to know everything of everyone else's life. When I come to live here, I'll pretend to be deaf!

Abhi has taken wonderful photos of the birds around our place and they are so many. But Paradise fly-catcher wasn't one of them and I thought of the trees behind our old house where they were so common. I haven't seen them since I left that place and now with all those trees totally gone, no chances of spotting them either.

Incomplete...

ಐಟಿ ಜನರಿಗೆ ಕೈ ತುಂಬಾ ಸಂಬಳ
ಸುಖದ ಸುಪ್ಪತ್ತಿಗೆ ಅನ್ನುವವರನ್ನು
ನಿಲ್ಲಿಸಿ ನನ್ನ ಮುಂದೆ ತಂದು
ನನ್ನ ಕುರ್ಚಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ಒಂದು ವರ್ಷ ಕೂರಿಸಿ
ಆಮೇಲೆ ನೋಡೋಣ ಇನ್ನೂ
ಇದ್ದಾರೋ ಇಲ್ಲವೋ ಎಂದು

ನಾಲ್ಕು ವರ್ಷ ಗೆದ್ದೋ ಬಿದ್ದೋ ಕಲಿತು
ಕೆಲಸ ದಕ್ಕಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಾಗ ಎಷ್ಟು ಸಂಭ್ರಮ
ಎದೆಯೊಳಗೆ ಹೊಸ ಪುಳಕ
ಸಿಲಿಕಾನ್ ಊರೊಳಗೆ ಯಾವಾಗ ಹೊಕ್ಕುವೆ
ಹೊಸ ಅಸ್ತಿತ್ವವ ಪಡೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳುವೆ
ಜನರ ಮೆಚ್ಚಿಸುವೆನೆಂಬ ತವಕ

ಕನಸ ಕಂಗಳ ಆ ಹೊಳಪು
ಮಾಸಿ ಹೋಯಿತು ಬರಬರುತ್ತ
ಯಾಂತ್ರಿಕ ಲೋಕದ 'glare' ನೆದುರು
ಉಳಿದಿಹುದಷ್ಟೇ ಗೊಂದಲ
ದಾರಿತಪ್ಪಿದ ತಳಮಳ
ಬೆನ್ನು, ಕತ್ತುನೋವಿನ ಕಸರು

ವಾರಾಂತ್ಯವಾಗಿಲ್ಲ
ರವಿ ಜಾರಿ ಹೋಗಿಲ್ಲವಿನ್ನೂ
ತಲೆ ತುಂಬಾ ಮರುದಿನದ ಪಾಡು
ಬೇಡಬೇಡವೆಂದರೂ ಕಿವಿಯೊಳಗೆ
ಗುಣುಗುಣಿಸುತ್ತಿರುವುದದೇ
'ಮ್ಯಾನಿಕ್ ಮಂಡೇ' ಹಾಡು

ವಾರ  ಶುರು, ಎಷ್ಟು ಮಳೆಎಂದರೂ
ಕೆಟ್ಟ ಬಿಸಿಲೆಂದರೂ
ಹಿಡಿಯಬೇಕು ಆಫೀಸಿನ ದಾರಿ
ಮಗು ಬಿಕ್ಕಿದರೇನು
ಬಂಧು ಬಳಗವದೇನು
ಸುಲಭದ ಹಾದಿ, 'ಸಾರೀ'

ಒಂಬತ್ತಕ್ಕೆ ಜಾಗಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡುವವರು
ಕ್ಲಬ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ಕೇಕೆ ಹೊಡೆಯುವವರು
ನಮಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಹೊರಡುವ ತರಾತುರಿ
ಹಾಲನ್ನ ಒಳತೆಗೆಯದೆ
ಗೊರಕೆ ಹೊಡೆಯುವ ಪಕ್ಕದ ಮನೆಯ
ಹೆಂಗಸ ಕಂಡರೆ ಹೊಟ್ಟೆಯುರಿ

ವಾಹನದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೂತರೇನಂತೆ
ಅದೇನು ಪುಷ್ಪಕವಿಮಾನವೇ
ನಿಮಿಷಾರ್ಧದಲ್ಲಿ ದಡ ತಲುಪಿಸಲು?
ಬೈಕು ಕಾರುಗಳ ಷುಮಾಕರುಗಳು
ದೈತ್ಯ ದರ್ಪದ ಬಸ್ಸುಗಳು ಎಲ್ಲ
ಹಿಡಿಯಬೇಕು ಟ್ರಾಫಿಕ್ ಇರುವೆಯ ಸಾಲು

ಹೊಗೆ ಮುಖಕ್ಕೆರಚುವವರ ಬೈಯುತ್ತ
ಜಾಮಿಗೊಳಗಾದ ಅದೃಷ್ಟವ ಶಪಿಸುತ್ತ
ಗಂಟೆಗಟ್ಟಲೆ ಕೊಳೆಯುವ ಸಮಯ
ಅಂದುಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದುಂಟು ಎಷ್ಟೋ ಸಲ
ಈ ಸುಖ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಓಡೋಣವೆಂದು
ಆದರೆ ಬರಬೇಕಲ್ಲ ಧೈರ್ಯ

Back and Forth

Tired to the core after last week's journey and my bones are aching just to think that I have one more to do next week. But I've decided I will - don't know when else I can. Journeys are not fun anymore. You hardly get to sleep lying in all sorts of positions to accommodate the kid and the amount of peace you can get otherwise depends so much on her. She behaved pretty well in the daytime I must admit, though nights were anything but conducive to sleep.

The trip was good overall but as usual left me with a feeling of dissatisfaction that I should've done something else or something more to leave everyone happy. I don't know what it is and may be it's just that the time we spend is too short; even the kid didn't get used to anybody this time, except for her cousin's pair of slippers.

And, I did watch English Vinglish the week before I left, though the images are blurred already. Felt bad for Laurent, all the while knowing that it couldn't have been otherwise. Even if Shashi hadn't learnt English and 'risen' so easily in the eyes of her family, she would've never left them anyway. She would've gone on grinding for them and may have only become a stone at heart one day.

And no, I didn't watch the movie alone, I took my son along. And unlike the Sarod concert, he was all eyes and ears and told me later that it was all very interesting and he wished he could see it once more. And when Laurent was holding Shashi in his arms, asked me if he was going to kiss her!! Wonder where he got such an idea from!

Just like Shashi's niece tells her in the movie, I did experience how judgmental people are with ladies clad in a sari, on the journey onwards. Our compartment had all Tamilians - one set a father and son duo and another, a gang of new software guys going to Hyderabad to meet a friend or something. When P had gone somewhere, the father asked me where he worked, his qualifications and all that and in the end asked me if I was a graduate. I told him that my husband and I work for the same company and I could see he was surprised. Next, one of the young girls wanted me to move so that she could get her berth setup but she didn't know which language to talk to me in, being unsure if I spoke English. I understood and resolved her difficulty by speaking myself and after that she kept staring at me everytime I spoke. But I think had I not plaited my hair or had I applied sufficient make-up, even a saree wouldn't have produced these results. It's just that a plain lady in a sari, cuddling the kid the way I do, evokes certain stereotypical reactions from people.

Wishbone

It's decided now - tomorrow morning I'm going to watch English Vinglish all alone. Mother says I shouldn't even wish to look for any entertainment till my daughter is 4, my father is as confused as I am, V seems busy in her own world and P says he's above all this silly kind of fun. Fine, I say and in a first time attempt for me, hope to watch a movie all by myself. I'm looking forward to it.

Sometimes I think it's foolish to depend on others for your happiness. And sometimes I don't know if being a working woman is more of a bane than any boon; you are trying to be many things at the same time but not really being even one - neither a full-fledged career-woman, nor a guilt-free housewife. And just because you are earning, men seem to think that you don't have any needs at all but it is only their slogging-at-home mothers and sisters and sisters-in-law who need all the understanding and care. I wonder what kind of sunset our generation will have.

We all watched ಸಂಸ್ಕಾರ yesterday and in spite of discussions, some questions remain. Why the supposedly grief-stricken Chandri should seek bodily pleasure instead of pure understanding and support and why one accidental(if it was accidental) transgression should make it so easy for PraNeshacharya to cross other hitherto-sacred boundaries...I'm going to watch more of Kannada movies of this era and genre if I can get them.

Exams are midway and I'm reminded of the perpetual feeling of a knotted stomach, the excitement of carrying Ashu Teacher's fountain pen, the dampner of my sweaty palms and above all, the tension of maths exams. It was unbearable and I would get into all sorts of troubles even for a routine test. I would yawn and yawn and by the time I entered the classroom, I would end up with a severe headache and in 9th standard I even vomitted badly and had to abandon my paper altogether.

Addons

Just as we were recovering, another round of celebrations has begun near our house. The local 'friends circle' has announced its own Ganesha festival and today is the second day! Actually, celebrations run round the year here - there will be Rajyotsava celebrations once on November 1st and another after a month and so on and we are getting used to these anomalies. Before, we would come to know only after the mikes started blaring out of nowhere but this year there have been banners along the road, each containing the best dressed photos of 'friends' urging the people to make it a success.

Today morning the soundtracks were of Premaloka and both mother and I were happy. Most of the songs are my favourites and even now they sound as fresh as they did 25 years ago. It's amusing to recollect that "Ee Nimbe HaNNinantha Hudugi..." was considered not so decent when it was released and while I could never dream of singing it in front of father, I remember mother and other young ladies in the neighbourhood giggling dissecting the lyrics in private. My mother also agreed with me that today the lyrics sound refreshing rather than bad and this goes for so many other songs too.

Morning's Bhagavadgita discourse has a new anchor now - R. Ganesh in place of Pavagada Prakash Rao who had successfully gained my daughter's attention thanks to his collection of beaded chains. She has not taken the change well and protests in front of the TV that she doesn't want the new guy!

Kaveri protests are on full-time today and my son is very frustrated that today is a bundh. Why? Because Monday being his birthday, he is worried that we may not be able to buy his gifts! So he wanted to know the genesis of the protests and I explained to him how much I knew. He was chauvinistic in the beginning and in the end, was disappointed that even the prime minister may not be able to stop the protests today. He is hopeful that tomorrow will be better after all.

I want to see 'English Vinglish' so badly, just to watch my pet Sridevi. But don't know if it can happen this weekend. If not and if I get too desperate, I might take a morning off I guess...

Legacy

Weekend after weekend is passing like a blur and all that I remember about last weekend was the concert. Of course I had guests for good part of the two days, but they were my mother's guests for all practical purpose. And when I left at 4 o'clock for the concert, they weren't very happy!! I didn't bother much anyway.

Concert was...alright. The first one especially I came to like only towards the end and I felt there were instances when he was racing a bit. The second and the third one were better, may be also because there was tabla accompaniment. They played jugalbandi, seemed to be enjoying themselves better and the audience also looked much happier. For one thing, Shiraz Ali Khan didn't look at people even for a second and while enjoying his Sarod, I was forced to concentrate on the handsome Arijit Tagore who seemed to have connected better with the audience. In fact, it was Arijit who got the first claps for a spirited performance in the second piece. I heard some elderly ladies commenting on how Shiraz needed to open up a little and they were comparing him with his forefathers. May be one day I will also be telling how the famous Shiraz Ali Khan was when he started!!

Gandhi Jayanti today and as usual all the channels are airing his relevance. While Gandhiji was not my favourite leader while growing up(Nehru was), I haven't lost my respect for him. I could never understand how some of my friends who along with me sang songs on him and read the same praises as I did in primary school, became his enemies after they entered highschool. Anyone who was upright or reprimanded others when they cheated, had to face the deriding remark, "She is one Gandhi!!" or was chided, "Don't be a Gandhi now!!". But may be it was only part of the teenage idiosyncrasies; I don't remember hearing such remarks later in life.

After watching Mahabharata on TV, my son told me Shantanu was a not a good guy and he was a greedy fellow. I asked him why he thought so. He says, "He married Ganga and Satyavati just because they were beautiful!". I said I agreed with him.

Our minister Mr. Jaiswal said wives lost their charm after a while and just as an uproar ensued, said he was sorry if he hurt anyone's sentiments. Well, he can't do it, even if it's true!!

No Laughing Matter

When we were studying, Kannada medium schools started off with English only in 5th Standard and of all the songs that we had, I remember only this one, which we had in 6th -

My aunt she died a month ago,
And left me all her riches;
A feather bed and a wooden leg
And a pair of calico britches.
A coffee pot without a spout,
A mug without a handle;
A baccy box without a lid
And half a farthing candle.

Actually while I liked this poem, I totally failed to grasp the humour of it. I would place the blame squarely on Gerald Sir who seemed to have been interested only in giving it a pretty tune which of course I like very much. May be it's only thanks to the tune that I remember the song fully even now. But wait, I do recollect something else. Did we also have "Hot Cross Buns" in 5th? Or was it in 7th?? Don't tell me!

When we were in 10th standard, Sister Lilia was our class-teacher and she had the reputation of being a terror. But she was a good singer and whenever she had the first period of the day, she wanted us to sing a prayer before she entered the class and she herself had taught us some English ones. We did follow the instructions faithfully until one fateful day when we sang an English song which was no prayer but was all about a cock which died and which could sing no more!! Whose idea it was, I don't remember now. I'm not sure if I was the culprit but even if that was the case, I can only say that it was not exactly deliberate. We just got tired of singing the same songs, that's all. I guess it was a collective decision after all. But Sister Lilia was outraged as she barged into the room and as none of us could help her in finding the brain behind it, she made us all stand for the entire length of the period. I think most of us laughed at the comedy of error though the Sister missed it totally.

Immersed

Work, work and more work. This week has been as hectic as I ever had. Even late-night support calls!! Estimations, trainings, discussions, reviews, bug-fixes, arguments....no, I'm not complaining yet. I think it'd better be this way, at least for some time. This weekend is going to be packed too with tomorrow going towards guests and if we can squeeze in Lalbagh and Sunday I hope we can attend the concert.

Multiple Ganeshas have been immersed in our lake and it is not a pleasant sight anymore, though not on account of the idols. It periodically gets dirty, stinking, unbearable and then someone cleans it up and it sparkles for some time, just to get dirty again. Just like my mind I think!!

It's a marvel to me how people, especially ladies, pick up an accent so quickly. Within a year of living in Bangalore, most of them speak as if they've been here all their lives. I've also observed that this trend is more so in housewives. But I seem to have been a failure in this department. Even when I think I'm speaking the best of native tongue, bus conductors and auto drivers ask me if I'm from Mangalore side and nod with satisfaction when they see the incredulous admiration on my face. Anyway, I've decided to be myself now. I like our no-frills accent much better.

Got to finish at least one Tejaswi tomorrow. Goodnight!
 

The Colour of God

Watched The Colour of Paradise on Friday and I must watch it again. S, I'm indebted to you, I don't know if it would've happened otherwise. I liked the movie of course, though I was longing for some more, or something more, in the end. The first half went totally in laughing and crying and both and in the second half I was just following the flow. I rarely cry watching a movie and even if I do, they are mostly tears of joy. But this time, I couldn't help it when listening to Mohammed's conversation with his teacher about God. I'm a bit upset that the movie is short and they didn't show more of the boy.

Actually I liked the way his father acted too. Throughout he was like a guy living a nightmare, from which he would like to wake up and find his son gone. He did very well. Also, for the first time I saw a pair of hands emoting so much. They were like Mohammed's eyes, or may be more, feeling the air, the feather, the bird's open mouth, little waves in water and everything, may be much more than a boy who can see. The picturesque Iran countryside makes you feel even worse because his house is in such a pretty place and he loves nature so much and he cannot see it.

My weekend is almost done with Saturday going in playing host and Sunday as a dutiful guest. Whenever I have to attend these mandatory ceremonies, I feel wretched that I'm wasting golden hours of weekend but I always return feeling guilty about it because most of the people I meet make me feel as if they were missing seeing me very badly all these years and they are happy just doing that. Ignorance is bliss indeed!! Anyway, this time I went only for Aayi's sake and I won't have to go every year I hope. My mother is very rigid in these matters; she'll honour any invitation at a relative's place which is in the radius of 5 hours of journey!! Don't know where she gets the energy from.

Temples and Tempers

Having exhausted all the devotional songs for the last two days, Ganesha MandaLi has decided to dish out pure entertainment to Ganesha and the devotees in the form of "Tu Cheez Badi Hai Mast..."!!! We have a temple in the lane right behind us and a Goddess is having another one built right next to it. I have no problem with it except for the associated loudspeakers but it's just that they are one too many. We already had one temple down the lane and there was BEML Ganesha anyway. Why more? As if people want to step out of their homes and trip right into the temple and fall in front of god!

Whenever I think of this particular song, I can't help thinking of our school-day in 1994 and Auntie. "Tu Cheez..." being a rage that year, teachers were enthusiastic to cash in on the popularity and V, who was in 6th, was supposed to be one of the dancers. But Auntie had other plans. She was incensed when she heard at the way a girl was being called a 'commodity' and was appalled at the way the school was taking the decent people around for a ride. I don't think I had any strong opinion regarding this except for some wild imagination as to the possible meanings of the 'derogatory' wordings. Anyway, Auntie was not to be silenced; first she made V quit the troupe, then marched to the school and gave her piece of mind to the HM too. As a result, a truce was reached; that year for the first time, a dance was performed only to the background music and a lot of youngsters returned home not entirely satisfied with the outcome.

I love Bhupinder's songs. As I hum "Ek Akela is Sheher Mein...", his deep and soulful voice rings in my ears, making my own rendition sound like a pale imitation. How beautifully he's sung that simple song!

God of Small People

Chouti is here again and my son ate as if Ganesha got into him to taste all the dishes. All of us were literally agape as he tasted everything in front of him, in decent quantity that too. As I write, he's going for another helping of the payasa. Great! In fact, Lord Ganesha is a favourite of his and our main door is filled with sketches of the God and some quotes about him.

Quite a few things made and eaten today; Kadubu, payasa, panchakajjaya, poori(accidentally), banana halva and vade along with the regular food. It makes me happy just to think what more others must be making!!

Sometimes I wonder if I believe in God just so that he should be helping me when I need it. People fast, go to another end of the world for pilgrimage, indulge in other physical hardships but I never feel like doing any of them. If God were to judge his devotees by any of these paramaters, I'm going to fail very much. I do pray to him, imagine him saying certain things to me and feel that he is part of my conscience, one who makes me feel guilty when I do wrong.

I remember the first time I believed in the existence of God very well; I was six year old then. We were returning from my mother's place to BCR after our summer holidays and as usual my father wasn't there. V was only a year old, the boat was ferrying us towards Taribagilu and we had a big sack of coconuts and a tin can of coconut oil to carry apart from our usual bag. We were getting late already, we had about 2 miles to reach Honnavar after reaching the shore and if we missed the 9 o'clock bus, we would have to wait for another half an hour at least. It was then that my visibly nervous mother asked me to pray to God, asking for help. Of course I did; I prayed to Lord Rama as I was told and asked him to make sure that there was an auto ready to take us to the bus-stand the moment we got down from the boat. I wasn't sure then if someone really heard it but when we reached the shore, there it was, an auto, just like I asked for!! I can relive the feeling of exultation and reverence that filled my heart then and I'm a fan of Lord Rama ever since.

Sprucing Up

My son is fearful of our aging and my increasing grey hair is giving him a cause for concern. He asked me alarmed the other day about it and I told him it was because he was getting me worried too much. He thought for a minute and said, "You'd better apply Garnier"! He's not new to hair-dyes; his grandparents do it at home, his father goes to a saloon.  But I've resisted it so far probably because my laziness forbids it. If you do it once, you have to do it again and with my quantity, it's going to take long. I told him I'd rather spend that time playing with him.

Now my daughter is becoming very conscious of how she looks and what she should wear! She has taken an aversion to all the old clothes that she's been wearing so far and she herself decides which dress she would wear for the day. And next, she has to go and stand in front of the mirror to check how she looks. The other day, I dressed her up in the hall and she immediately went inside and after a while when I went in, she was still standing in front of the mirror, smiling at her image and tapping her fingers on the pane and when she saw me, sheepishly went away. Hmm...I foresee a tough time ahead! Her latest trend is to wear her brother's green swimming goggles.

There are two buildings coming up right next to one of the dump-yards and I hear that one of them is going to be an International school and another, a dental college. But where is the playground? I don't see any empty piece of land except TBTA tennis ground which is pretty small as such. And where are the roads? The one in front of our apartments is hardly 20 feet wide and the other side of the L is half of that! Wonder who gave them permission to set it up in a place like ours.

Today I had to go to the 5th floor toilet and someone had stuck a notice inside which read, "This is not a laboratory. Do not leave your blood and stool samples here!" A great stinker! Our floor needs one badly too.

Guilty...Plead not-Guilty...

The hike numbers were announced on Friday and they are too good to believe. I hadn't imagined something of that sort, especially after seeing the bonus and my boss was almost like "you'd better keep quiet now". I will of course, I'm a bit scared now. But I also know that not everybody is happy and that's making me feel guilty. I know I couldn't have helped it and I'm sorry, really sorry. But I'm not great at consoling people and it's much more difficult when the other person knows that you are supposed to be the happier lot. I think I have problem putting my feelings across in an effective manner - be it empathy, sympathy, sadness or joy or whatever else. The trainer in our team-building workshop had all of a sudden come near me and said, "you should open yourself more to people". I think it's not easy for me.

Spoke to L yesterday and I miss her badly at times. Her life is very tough at the moment and both of us agree that we hadn't imagined it would be like that. But she's hardworking and she enjoys challenges too and I hope next year will be better for her. My association with her has been of 16 years now and all these years she's been just the same as ever - down-to-earth, fun-to-be-with, caring and very dependable. She was the first girl I met as Pappa and I entered our old hostel block and I still remember her tomboy looks and even what she was wearing then. She wasn't my roomie and I don't remember how exactly we became close friends. We were in the same section and may be out of the 6 girls in our class, we were the most compatible. In the first year, we moved everywhere together; sometimes only two, sometimes in a gang of 6. We went to downcorps(!, is that the name really?), SAC, library, beach, beach temple,lighthouse, Sads, Karkera and where else? Once all six of us took 3 umbrellas and went to the beach at 9 in the night, sitting on the stone embankment, listening to the roaring sea and getting badly beaten by the splashing rain, our umbrellas all overturned in the wind. Next day the seniors took us to task is another matter. Another time L and I ventured from the beach to reach our campus through someone's coconut grove, only to be caught by two ferocious dogs, lunging right at our chests and for a moment we thought we were gone! Then we found our voice to cry for help desperately and were rescued by the owners of the dogs and we were still shaken as we reached the hostel! Of course it sounds pretty funny now whenever we recollect it.

There are other memories too, like whenever the mood went bad, sitting on that rock submerged in water looking at the sea for hours not saying a word, going to watch DDLJ in sac and almost stepping on a snake(how L jumped about that time!), the Office Committee days and singing "O Sanam" again and again, returning from Lalit to hostel walking and having a competition with NS(L almost won!), like watching HKKN in the midnight and coming to my room singing "Kya Hua Tera Vada" and getting scolded by Pal, watching latenight Sampras-Agassi matches, trip to Bekal Fort, singing "Laila O Laila" in the crowded bus coming to hostel(actually, I hardly started when I glanced at N and he gave me a hard menacing stare and I shut my mouth up. But Pal and L didn't notice it and they went on and on. Next day it was me who had to face the music of N's outrage at our 'total lack of judgement'!!) ...I hope I'll have many more to look back at when I hang my boots and our long-pending trip to the Himalayas will be one of them.

Diving Deep into Shallow Waters

My son is yet to learn diplomacy. He is very vocal about his feelings and tells anybody and everybody what he thinks about them and leaves us with a tough task of damage control. It's all the worse because he looks much older than his age and people may not take all the remarks very kindly. I guess he'll learn with experience like we all did.

I don't exactly remember if I was told explicitly not to speak an unpleasant truth. I think we just picked up the 'manners' just by absorbing how others behaved. I do remember an incident in 4th standard when I told a notorious senior who was making fun of us what I thought of him. I called him and his friends monkeys but the teacher reprimanded me very badly for that and didn't say anything to him. Next must've been in 7th standard when I told Meenakshi teacher that she was always giving A+ to M whereas I, who wrote as beautifully as he did, mostly got an A. She too got angry with me and shut me up with a harangue.

I don't think I ventured into anything like that till Engineering first year when for the first time I fought with someone seriously. L and Manjula was roomies, L was my best friend and Manjula considered me hers. L tought Manjula so many things because being from Diploma background she was finding it difficult to follow Maths etc. But there used to be plenty of misunderstandings also b/w them and one fine day it went to such a level that L told me that Manjula was going to complain on her to the warden. I was of course shocked and went to her room as a peacemaker but as I heard Manjula accusing L of so many silly things, I couldn't take it anymore. I just exploded and told Manjula what I thought of her. The way I let caution go shocked myself and of course Manjula but I could see that L was happy for the support. Things cooled down after that but they weren't the same between Manjula and me.

I've been guilty of being too diplomatic once and that has rankled me for a long time. That was in Hyderabad when I came back from Mumbai to join Shab in our rented house to find that there were two more housemates. Things weren't great between those two girls and Shab,mostly on account of financial settlements. One day things went pretty bad and even when I came to know it, I didn't do anything other than lending an ear to Shab's complaints. I don't know why I kept quiet - just for the heck of being perceived as a 'nice' person by all the parties? I was Shab's friend and those people didn't matter to me and I should've naturally defended Shab but I didn't. I am still ashamed of myself for that.

I think now I've improved a bit. There have been many occasions when I've fought with my boss to defend my team when I thought they were doing their job and I've never hesitated to argue on something that he said if I thought it was a bad idea. I know I still have a long way to go to achieve a balance but I'm trying.

Swaying to the Wind...

When growing up, the paddy fields in front of our house were an integral part of our lives. There must've been about 10 acres of them all, split among many owners and into many pieces stretching between our stream on one side and the railway track on the other. There were at least 4 ponds in between all except one drying in the summer.

The onset of monsoon meant that the fields would be out of bounds for us for some months but we had other things to look forward to. The ploughing would start off the proceedings and soon the tiny saplings would be everywhere making the whole area look like green velvet carpet. Then would be the time to pluck them and plant them again in bunches. That would be a grand affair for us - Appi, Janaki and other ladies from nearby would all be there singing "O Bele O Bele"(I used to remember some more lines), pulling each other's leg, having small fights,teasing us and in general having fun and making us happy.

The fields were our shortcut to reach BCR via the railway track and in rainy season we had to navigate both the muddy red stream and the slippery banks of the fields to reach there. While crossing the fast-flowing stream was a welcome adventure to us, the fields weren't an easy task either. Adding to the sliminess of the path, since the usage was low in the rainy season, the touch-me-nots would be all over the place, toads would jump from nowhere putting us off-balance and the slippers would get stuck in the mud if not tread carefully. Soon this would pass and the plants would grow high, green and milky rice seeds would pop out and slowly the plants and the seeds would turn yellow. This would be the time we all waited for. The moment one of the fields got cleared, we would barge in there in the evenings with our badminton rackets, mothers in tow. There would be other games too, like run and catch, hide and seek, with the uncut rice plants offering a very useful cover. Of course when we return home after all the fun, the whole body would itch badly and I would have to swallow mother's reprimands as she applies coconut oil on my back. But it was irresistible; we would be at it again the next day.

There was only one problem though. Some of the fields were just below Convent, a girls high school with hostel for students coming from far and boarding for the Sisters. This was the school where all of us went in due time and the present and future students didn't want to create an impression of being too naughty on the teachers. So even in the middle of all our prancing and playing, one eye would be steadily kept on the landscape above and if any human shape appeared there, our noise levels would drop to whispers. Badminton would be played very seriously until and unless the person happened to be only a fellow student and we were assured that no Sister was in sight. Occasionally even a Sister would appear and rarely she would get into pleasantries and even rarer, would throw some rose apples grown on the premises.

There is a sad end to this happy story. If you go to that place now, you wouldn't be able to recognise it a bit. Half the fields have been converted into areacnut plantation and the at the other end, you have a sawmill. The remaining area is already a famous place of worship. Why? One of the ponds that I mentioned was 'discovered' to be miraculous a couple of years ago; it seems its water contains healing powers and devotees have been pouring in to worship 'Vanadurga'. So that's the end of the story!!

Man Proposes...

God disposes! Never felt the truth more keenly than today. My emotions seem to be like this year's Monsoon; not at all following the protocol. Unfortunately, I'm only a mute spectator as usual. Sometimes I remember what Sir had told me once - that I'm like a spring and I bounce back easily. Hope I can, always.

Went shopping with V over the weekend. It had been such a long time since we two went out together. Of course my son accompanied us and got what he wanted - both to and fro by bus. My mother had requested him to let us sisters sit together in the bus so that we could talk and he had agreed. But when we got into the bus, V let him sit next to me and sat next to a middle-aged man right behind us. After a while, my son remembered my mother's words, got up and asked V to sit next to me. She didn't know the background so she was like 'no, it's alright' etc when the guy next to her got confused too. He thought my son was being 'protective' to V and started saying, "it's alright, she's like my sister, don't worry" !!! My son didn't get head or tail of what he was saying and I, who was the only one to understand everything couldn't help laughing out loud.

Reminds me of something. One of my lunchmates is getting married this weekend and a large contingent is planning to attend, mostly her batchmates in the company. They asked me to accompany them and I said let's see. Then they called my boss and he asked who all were going. The immediate reaction from one of the girls was "all of us youngsters". Then she bit her tongue and said "most of us are going" and we all laughed it off. Now I'm almost a decade older than these girls and my boss even more but surely that statement pinched us for a second.

If only our men were to learn their manners well, our roads would be much safer and cleaner to walk on. They spit so indiscriminately that it's disgusting and of course, unhealthy. Why don't the idiots just swallow it off? This reminds of my visit to BBMP office the other day to complain about the garbage pile round the corner. The guy was evasive at first saying it was but natural(!!!) and all but once I talked about diseases, assured me that it would be cleared within a day or two. It's been a week since and I guess I have to visit the office again.

Lost

A bad day by most counts. They gave us the bonus today. Though it was known it wouldn't be great, though I worked only 1/4th of last year on account of leaves, I'm feeling quite wretched about it. Bloody hell! I hate to be in this state of mind. Hope it doesn't last the weekend. Guess not.

The ducks in my lake are all missing. There were a lot of stinking feathers on the bank today and I guess some devils ate them off. Some feel happy just by looking at them and some feel happy at the thought of eating them. Life is like that!

My friend is missing too. Last time around Sir was also trying to locate her but this time I don't think so. I joined FB on account of her only but as usual forgot about writing to her once I thought she was up and running again. I'm feeling so guilty and worried now! What do I do? How do I find if she is fine? Would she have told me about her troubles had I been in constant touch? Why didn't I do that? If I find her again, I'll never stop writing to her regularly. Please!!

To be or not to be...

Will our society ever accept the decision not to be a parent as naturally as the desire to become one? Or will one have to escape from this society itself like some of the people I know? When even people like my mother talk about the need to continue the family line, it is more annoying. Her argument was that since the guy in question is the only son to his parents(he has a sister,though.), he should at least have one child. I wanted to ask her two questions - What if that only child happens to be a girl? By her own logic, wouldn't that be the end of the family? And I was so irritated by this male and female business that I wanted to taunt her by asking how come she didn't go for a son considering that she has stopped our family line by having only two girls. But I left it alone. As such I have enough arguments with her and she doesn't seem to think my way anyway.

Seeing the life of working mothers, I don't wonder that many ladies don't want to fall into that category. There would be sleepless nights for all sorts of reasons, there will be headaches, heartaches, frustration, limited freedom and all that. But I can only say in defense that it will also bring forth in you emotions which you never experience otherwise. Children also bring you so many joys, make you more human, make you feel superhuman at times and it's a different spectrum of feelings altogether.

My son has a long way to go to become worldly-wise. The other day he told me,"Aayi, you know, Vedant is my best friend!". Now, I know this boy but of late I hadn't heard anything about him though. So I asked him how it came about. He says, "I had taken two badminton rackets to school today. Vedant asked me for one and I said no. He said, 'Won't you give it even to your best friend?' and that's when I came to know he is my best friend!!". He was looking so happy, I just laughed.

Rainy Day

What rain today! As if the pent up clouds couldn't take it anymore and burst out suddenly, it's raining like cats and dogs, complete with lightning and thunder. It'll of course make our stinking garbage piles even worse. It's as if we are just sitting and waiting for an epidemic to break out.

I think today's women are really superwomen. They may be teased by Romeos on the road, their pretty dresses may be stained with paan spat on by sadistic drivers(it happens in Hyderabad), they may be thrown out of moving trains by merciless devils, they may be harassed verbally or physically at home or work, but they go on with their work from morning to night, everyday. As I walk towards office every morning, I meet so many of them; a young lady pushing a fruit-cart, a middle-aged one chanting some hymns on the way to her office, an older one pushing the garbage-cart, mothers carrying their young ones to school, group of young ladies from north Karnataka talking animatedly and looking very sunny as they go towards their construction-site, house-maids of all hues walking briskly towards work, ladies in shops smiling benignly as if they know everyone who crosses their shops, teachers of government and private schools trying their best to keep the bunch of kids in order, women like me and so on and I feel so proud of them. I smile at some of them everyday and I feel we understand each other's aspirations and hopes well.

If my mother saw this, she would complain that like everybody else, I too have forgotten the homemakers. But no, that's not true. I know that is much tougher than a lot of outside jobs and many of us are just happy to get out of it and have some 'free' time for ourselves in the office.

"BarabaruTTa Raayana Kudure KaTTe"(As time passed, Royal horse became a donkey) was a favourite phrase of our teachers in school to reprimand someone who was slipping and I have to use it towards my daughter now.She is learning new words very fast and the first thing she has learnt to use effectively is Beda!(No). A month ago, if I asked her to switch on/off a fan or a light, she would do very willingly. Now the novelty of it seems to have worn off and she's asking me to do it!!!

A Day in the Life of a Lady

When S asked me what the plans for a long weekend were, I gave him a long list but I knew fully well that it was more of a wishlist than what I was really going to do. He must be wondering how I always talk about reading, watching movies instead of spending time with my children but in reality it's just the opposite. Here is a sample of how my weekend went -

Wake up at 6:45 a.m.. My daughter too wakes up, of course. Read newspaper for about 15 mins. Brush and other things, oblige my daughter to roll on the bed for another 10 mins. Next to the kitchen to heat milk, cut the vegetables and prepare my son's favourite pasta. Prepare ragi to drink for myself, father and my daughter. Serve pasta to all, feed my daughter and then myself. Prepare tea for my husband, milk with chocos for my son. Wash the first lot of utensils, arrange things so as to sweep the floor, mop it and put the garbage out. The time by now is about 10 a.m., it really flies! Next up is cleaning the toilets and bathrooms. Put the cleaning liquid, soak the coloured clothes for washing. Feed some ragi to my daughter and try unsuccessfully to make her drink milk. Wash the vegetables that have been brought home the previous day and dry them. Wash the coloured clothes and the toilets. By this time my father leaves for my sister's house, my husband and son go for swimming and the time is 11:30. There is a call that the water-filter maintenance chap is coming home so I start off with cooking in a hurry but my daughter is not happy to find the house suddenly empty. To pacify her I prepare her favourite Arrowroot ganji but soon after finishing that she starts off with next round of complaints and demands which are mostly about either following other members of the family or rolling on the bed which of course I have no time for. I clean the palak leaves as quickly as I can(it's a real pain) and put the cooker on. Switch on the geyser and then get into preparation of sambar masala. My daughter has raised the pitch by now but there is nothing much I can do; the filter fellow will be home any minute, my father will reach home in a while and I haven't finished cooking yet. I somehow manage to cut the capsicum for the palya and grind the masala before relenting to my daughter's cries to put her to sleep. She has almost dozed off when the bell rings; it is the filter guy of course. Thankfully my daughter gets busy looking at the newcomer and forgets about her loss of sleep while I create space for the fellow to work. My father arrives and I'm glad to submit my daughter to his care and finish the cooking. Filter fellow leaves, I prepare sambar and curry and feed my daughter. By this time my father has finished his bath and I force him to start off with lunch without my husband and son; they hardly realise the time when they are inside the pool. By the time I give my daughter a bath they have arrived and when I finally put her to sleep, all except me are done with the food and the time is 2:45 p.m. I finish my food, wash the second round of utensils and my daughter is up. I put her off to sleep again but as usual sleep off myself in the process. Not for long though, because my headbath is at the back of my mind and I wake up hurriedly towards the bathroom. By the time I'm out, the time is 4:30 and I hardly have the time to run water and load the clothes in the washing machine before I start off with proceedings for the evening tea. Tea and snacks done, my father goes out for the evening walk with his friend and after the business of washing machine is over the rest of us go out to the nearby market. Buy sundry things and hurry home just at the nick of time; it is a sudden and heavy rain. My husband has come back from the pool with a bad cold so I make him do the steam-inhalation. It is 7:30 already and I have to hurry with the cooking again. Put the cooker on, make another curry, prepare buttermilk, make the chapati dough, feed my daughter, prepare chapatis, brush my daughter through her fierce protests, put her to sleep and I'm glad to have my dinner in front of the TV to watch my favourite South Africans giving a hard time to the English Bowlers. It doesn't matter that there is a huge load of utensils waiting for me or that I haven't dried the whole load of clothes yet, I finish it all quite energetically much to my surprise and clean up the kitchen and clean up the cleaning clothes. It is 11:30 but you see that I'm not done yet!!

Beauty and the Beholder

This week has been pretty eventful but mostly for wrong reasons. Over the weekend we realized all of a sudden that my son had trouble seeing the blackboard and that he indeed had trouble reading from far. Took him to the doctor and he's got myopia and a pair of glasses now. Initial shock has sort of worn off now and my son looks happy in his glasses. Actually I think we discovered his problem at least now only thanks to the fact that he is a backbencher.

Then my daughter fell sick over the weekend with stomach upset and a fever and the fever subsided only yesterday. As in the past, she is very irritable and hardly moves an inch without me. Only the inducement of playing outside, which she didn't want to leave even in the middle of her fever,  has taken her out with her father now.

Beauty really lies in the eyes and more so, in the mind of the beholder. It is amazing how even an ordinary face transforms into a beautiful one when viewed through the lens of familiarity, friendship and love. The same is conversely true too; you may find fault with even the most perfect face if you don't like its owner, though my firsthand experience is only with the first type and not the converse.

There was this ethnic wear day yesterday and naturally all the youngsters were enthusiastic participants and also they were expecting me to be a veteran in a saree just because I'm the married one. Of course I told them I'm not greatly in favour of it because I cannot walk fast as I normally do but now I've decided I'm going to wear saree at home at least once in a while.

Springing a Surprise

My father has discovered friends away from home and possibly the ones he had never imagined to meet this way. One of them was his senior in high school and another was his roommate nearly 40 years ago! The latter is in our building itself and they have become companions again. Imagine meeting someone after 40 years and that too accidentally one fine morning! I think the only person I met after a long time, that too in a place somehow I never expected was M and it was a surprise to me that I could recognize him at all. I knew he was working in Hyderabad but I never expected him to stay in the same lane as myself!

Why is having an offspring or not be anybody's decision other than yourself? It is a very important thing in one's life but is that the only important thing in life? If you see the way many of us behave when we see or hear about someone not having a kid after about 5 years of marriage, it is very irritating. Of course mothers on either side will be behind their life but most of the times, it is the adhoc population in their society that pushes them to do so. First thing the elderly ladies ask when they think of the other's son/daughter is if there is any 'good news'. If the answer is yes, they don't bother to ask anything more about that person other than when the due date is. If no, they will condole it, inquire as to what is possibly causing the delay and end up as if the mother has sinned in not urging her child to produce an offspring in time! Why the hell does it matter to them? As if they are going to raise the child! Actually I think men are much better - I don't think they hound other men this way. What ails women? What fun do they get this way?

Cast in Caste

Sushil Kumar Shinde is our new home minister and every interviewer has made it a point to talk about the fact that he is a Dalit. Why? Why does it matter whether he is a Dalit or a Brahmin or a Muslim or something else? Why should the first thing that strikes us about a person be his caste? For how long are we going to be like this? I wish at least Sushil had taken offense at the reference but no, he took it very naturally. Alas!

We are asked to analyze the issues and come out with some brainwaves to reduce them. Now it all boils down to how much each team should take the blame on itself while of course pointing out everything that the other side didn't do. We are creating two or even three rival companies within one company! 

Rising above the Limitations

The Dark Knight has risen all over the world and there is euphoria in our land too. Of course I'll have to watch it on TV as I didn't get any company to go to the theatre. Actually I was on leave on Thursday and Friday as my parents went to their native place and I had grand plans of reading books and watching some movies over my long weekend. It proved just the contrary; I hardly had time even to comb my hair decently by the end of the day and everyday I slept at 12 or later!! The situation was so hopeless that I ended up laughing every night when I looked at the clock as I went to bed.

We have a club right next to our house and whenever I look at people playing - people are playing at any time of the day!! - I wonder what kind of profile theirs must be. I mean, if they are students, working, married, parents or what. I wonder how they manage to spend so much of time playing with no hurry or worry on their face. I used to envy them in the beginning but no more. I was also like that may be a decade ago and had I known that a decade later my life would be like this, may be I would've done more then. I guess I would've travelled more and seen some places at least. I think even now the problem lies with me - I do not have the guts or energy to push the limits - the limits imposed on me by so many people around me, near and dear ones of course - and I'm being unhappy just not doing anything about it. Easier way is to quit the job and create some time for myself but I'm just postponing it for a long time. Is it that I want more money not to feel guilty when I spend it on my dreams(hopefully) or is it that I fear I'll become a nobody if I sit at home or...what is it? I don't know yet.

My daughter is being cuter by the day - she gives me my toothbrush after I wake up, makes me change my dress immediately after I return from work(otherwise I'm quite lazy about it) and yesterday she surprised me further by pouring a mug of water on my feet when I went into the bathroom after coming home!!

Yesterday I dreamt that I saw Rafael Nadal in a BMTC bus and I was excited and went in to talk to him and we discussed and compared the buses in Bangalore and his native. Can you imagine dreams being so unreal!! Of course it was all very pleasant while it lasted.

Bugs and Mugs

One of our guys returned from a client site and gave me and another colleague a coffee mug as a token of appreciation from the client for the help we had done. Felt really sad taking it, sad for the client. I mean, all I did was fixing the bugs that we,if not me,created and there he is, feeling thankful for that. It is very frustrating actually. You do the best you can, bring the module to a shape and then the great people get some brainwave and gift it to some idiots to do as they please with it and it is a mess all over again. Then the bosses give it to us to nurse it back to health as if they are doing us a favour and then the cycle repeats. And the bottomline always is that we haven't made it stable. How can we?

A superb cricket match that South Africa won quite easily in the end. Couldn't help watching.

Displacement

I suddenly heard that we may be shifting to a different office altogether, got alarmed at the prospect and asked my boss. His initial irritation showed that I had touched a sore spot. He elaborated on it later - his boss believes that everybody should be in the office by 9 and he thinks that having the office far from as many as possible will make it happen by way of office transport. My boss, who already travels 20 kilometers one way, is obviously irked at having to travel 10 more and expressed that my having to travel only 10 is nothing. But I think it's only proportionate; I never traveled more than 4 before in the last 10 years! Having a travel time of more than an hour is tough for me and I really don't know if it comes to that what I will do! Actually I have travelled everyday for an hour when I was alone but things are not the same now.

Yesterday our floor was looking pretty much like a marketplace if you purely go by the noise level. Two of our colleagues who got engaged were distributing sweets and the general cacophony of best wishes and sundry jokes had filled the air for sometime. Just when it died down, another kind started; quite a few people got displaced to lower floors thanks to some restructuring of weights on each floor and the shifting of people and machines and what nots made for a welcome distraction to many. It seems we have overloaded our floor and some people may have left feeling that they are moving to a safer haven!

The girls gang that I'm newly member of(for lunch mostly) has started sending me facebook requests and I'm going to find myself with quite a few connections. I'm quite an inactive member actually. I'm not interested in everybody's lives and very few really matter to me. And those few, I'm anyway in touch with!

Pouring Out...

It's raining heavily outside and listening to the drone of rainfall on the roof is pleasing to the ears. This is the first time this season that it's raining like this and I hope it pours back home too. Father who is there was telling me that it's not at all like typical July there - by now it should be raning for days and one should do nothing but sit and watch the rain in awe and happiness. Though it used to be highly inconvenient to go anywhere when it rained like that, I don't remember being upset about it. I mean, we all took it granted so it feels so odd this time around.

We have a team outing coming up this monthend and it has already taken off on a bad note as far as I'm concerned. We have some guys who moved to a different team recently and they were not invited originally and then were invited by some of us but that has been taken very badly by my boss. I don't deny that I am biased towards S and I was a bit embarrassed when my boss reminded me of others but it seems but natural that he should be part of the gathering; he still sits surrounded by our team, never denied help to any of his old-teammates and in general friends with everybody in the team. When he told me he wouldn't come because he may be not be comfortable as such, I didn't know what to say. Felt very sad and I didn't know if it was because he declined or because of my helplessness in the changed circumstances to really insist on his coming.

Friday the 13th

Why does Hollywood produce so many scary movies? Every possible superstition, folklore and wildest thought has been explored and put into movies.But I wish they had left children out of it, one because it feels a bit harsh on them and also because the innocent faces sometimes become the scariest too.

I'm watching Friday the 13th today. I must've seen so many of its kind but somehow something seems different and I end up watching it. Of course there are movies whose end leaves you feeling foolish about 2 hours wasted but it's rare.

One thing I admire in Hollywood and Irani movies is the way the acting looks so natural, even in small children. I mean, in our movies there will be many instances where forget the side actors, even hero and heroine will act so artificially(!!) but I've not seen it elsewhere. Everybody and everything looks the part.

It rained heavily today and even the dirty lake in front of our office looked fresh after all the junk got pushed towards the shore. Only problem was that the autos vanished suddenly and at 7:30 I had to walk about two kilometers in the rain. It was quite nice once the rain subsided a little and now I'm sweating inside the house. I hope the monsoon has truly arrived this time.

Stolen...

Gloom at home tonight. My son stole a pen from a shop this evening and admitted it after a lot of cross-examination and threats, big and small scale. My shocked parents have already spent some tears on the incident, I've played good cop-bad cop act, many stories and their morals have followed and my son has finally slept off fearing that the situation may be worse when his father arrives home. Actually we all have been quite unhappy with my son for the past few days - he got caught copying his teacher's signature in his rough notebook in the class, I've found some stray things not belonging to him in his bag which he says he never put so there is a general mistrust when we are dealing with him. I'm particularly sad remembering the times when he was a boy I always had faith on; he was like that and that was not very long ago. I think I need to spend more time with him, I've hardly done that in the past few months. I'm spending my energies mostly on the younger one and neglecting my son. I know my son misses me, he told me so in such earnest words just the other day. I hope he'll come out of this mess fine, I'm going to help him.

FaceValue

These days I've got into the habit of trying to guess people's origin looking at their faces. After seeing so many people in the office, now it comes quite easily to me and I can categorize south Indians, Marathis, Punjabis and Bengalis into their respective states. North Indians are tougher but when they start talking, the task becomes easier. It's a pleasure when my guess turns out to be right.

But ironically enough, my own face does not seem to fit anywhere - people have hardly guessed my origin correctly. One of my teachers in college was surprised to hear that I was from the same district as him; he said he always thought I was a North Indian! Then when I was in Mumbai, my Telugu guesthouse-mate said I didn't look like a Kannadiga and not at all a Brahmin. I don't know what his standards were but he sounded disappointed especially on the second point. There are many who've got deceived by my hair and thought I am a Malayali and then there are others who've started talking to me in Tamil without my uttering even a word of it. Once a junior colleague of mine sent me a mail with Punjabi words and I had to convince him that my surname was indeed a South Indian one and I didn't have any trace of Punjab in me. Then very recently when I went for a walk to our terrace, one of the housemaids asked me if I was from Nepal; she was from there and she was very eager to hear the affirmative. I was sorry to disappoint her but this whole business is disappointing to me at times. Now, M told me once that our folks have their links to Iran so that's one place where I should go and try my luck I guess.

Though it's irritating to see all these numerous fairness cream ads(don't know why I get more upset with men's creams), I do believe people are increasingly judging people by their appearance. I have seen even so-called well-bred people passing such nasty remarks on people they hardly know.

Ee Nanna Manavu Uyyaleyaagi Toogide...

I don't know why I'm humming this song suddenly today but that really seems to be the case, in more ways than one. There are some undercurrents of joy, don't know why. Work is as usual, quite relaxed though, and once in a while someone or the other comes and flatters me and gets his work done. Today a junior quit and for some reason, thanked me in his farewell mail quite unreasonably. Really had to dig deep to figure out if I did any help worth mentioning but couldn't find any. But such mails will surely make me all nice and helpful to some more people, I'm sure.

On the other hand, my husband seems to be having a real tough job on his hands, leading a huge team and having too many issues to battle. His working hours are about to touch 15(!!) and I wonder how he can go on like that, day in and day out. If I was in his place...I would've bunked a day at least!!

A glorious match between Federer and Djokovic today. I'm a fan of neither(Nadal is my favourite) and may be because of that I was able to enjoy the match with the right frame of mind. Djokovic seemed very irritated with the way he was playing and in the end, seemed eager to finish it all. I think Murray will win the other one and I want him to win the title too. I mean, enough Federer has had so far ,though the only good thing about his winning the title may be that he may retire after that. But you never know, if our Tendulkar has given him any tips about going on and on and on...

Sometimes I feel I watch sports only for players and not for the game per se. I mean, now that Dravid has retired, I'm forced to believe that I enjoyed cricket these 20 years all because he was playing and I've retired from the game along with him. He is a gem, isn't he?

And now, Murray has become the first British male to play in Wimbledon finals in 76 years!! Must be a great feeling and also a lot of expectations to watch out for on Sunday!

Split Ends

My mother cut my hair last week and accidentally cut it more than what we wanted to. No problem though as it gives me freedom from split ends and also to leave my hair open occasionally, at least at home. Contrary to all the popular myth that I heard, my hair is as thick as ever even after two children; my maid had warned me that I would lose my hair the moment my daughter started smiling! I think that belief must've stemmed from the fact that post-delivery diet was not great in her generation and it would start showing on the hair by the time the baby got a month old.

One of my friends is on the verge of a divorce and she's asked me to counsel her husband in her defense.The first reaction from my husband was one of dismissal of my persuasive powers which I don't claim to have either. But I'm going to try nevertheless just to give some support to my friend who I know has struggled a lot in her life. Actually, before 10 years I didn't know anybody who had had a divorce but now I've seen quite a few though in every one of those cases, I've known only the lady involved. The problems this side are mostly similar - interfering and demanding in-laws, insensitive, jealous and at times even cruel, husband. Though most of the times I feel I would've done the same thing myself, there are occasions I've felt that ladies are giving up too easily. I don't know what a guy's viewpoint is in this entire affair and I wonder why they become so unreasonable with a struggling partner whose life today is so much tougher in all the aspects - working in the office, managing child/children who as a generation are quite demanding and managing the household affairs too.

Bangalore has been very windy throughout this week and may be some of it has swept the clouds off the sky so we've hardly had our share of rain this season. But it's a pleasure to walk to the office in this weather and I enjoy all the 20 minutes of it, especially the one around the lake which has been sparkling these days. Cute little ducks chase each other while a fountain splashes water all around and though I'm sweating by the time I reach office, I'm happy.

Theatre Bound....

Went to watch a collection of plays by O Henry done by a team of our guys. Couldn't finish all of them but whatever I saw was pretty good. Actually it was my first brush with English plays and I wasn't really sure if they could keep me interested throughout but I came back quite happy. May be it's good that the director chose simple stories. But though they weren't exactly similar, I found them predictable and that took some excitement off for me. Actually I was reminded even of Raincoat by Rituparno Ghosh though it's not exactly the same. I think the underlying theme is similar though I can't define it.

On the way back from the college where the plays were shown, I was all alone in an auto and though that in itself is not a cause of concern for me, I got into some jittery moments. S called me up to check how I was going and I said there was no problem. But my mobilephone got switched off the moment I stepped out of the college and when I boarded the auto and the driver talked of taking a different route, I was regretting telling S that I was going to be fine. I don't know where the fear stemmed from, may be it was because I didn't know anything about the place I was in, whether it was the new route or the standard one. So I was eagerly looking outside for any signs of familiarity among the billboards and I think the driver caught that look too. Suddenly he stopped at the side somewhere and asked me if I knew the road we were going to take next. I was a bit more nervous by now but I told him the truth; I didn't. He didn't say anything more and my nerves calmed down only when we burst into the main road of Marathalli. I think the driver read my mind plain enough; he even chided me that now I seem to be on familiar track and later told me people were becoming very skeptical of taking shortcuts these days. Anyway, by then I was on my turf and I could wholeheartedly nod my head.

I miss the days of Neenasam, the excitement of days preceding the shows and of seeing the pamphlets stacked up for distribution and visiting the Ajjibettu stage being prepared specially for it, of seeing some of the artistes beforehand, sitting in the front rows, the light and the sound, the drama of the stage and on it and everything. I hope I can be on the stage too someday.