High Hopes

I had asked VK how US was. He said India was much better now. I asked in what way. He said you know, in general. That was nothing and I said I wasn't sure. Then I asked him when he was returning. I was a little sarcastic but I doubt if he caught that. He said he wasn't returning till Trump sent him back. I said okay.

I think when it comes to India Shining story, I'm a blind and deaf person. I wish I wasn't, sometimes. 

Mismatches

Razia is getting on my nerves. Since she's joined, there have not been two consecutive days where she came to work in the same time slot. But I've not bothered much because I know she's trying to juggle many things herself. Last Sunday she told me she would come early, by 9, this week. I said OK. But for the next four days she didn't appear before 11:30, with some excuse for each day. Then yesterday I was taking bath at 8:45 when the bell rang. I had taken this test package at the hospital and I was in a hurry so I got annoyed. I said she could've at least given me a call. She seemed surprised; "I had told you I would be early!", she said shamelessly. Grinding my teeth, I muttered that was ages ago. It didn't make any difference to her anyway.

I had booked an auto and after asking Razia to finish only with sweeping, I hurried towards the hospital. Half way through and not before that, I realized I had worn mismatched clothes. The kameez was brown and the bottom green, old pants that I had worn in a hurry to open the door for Razia. And a black dupatta. It was a tough call; I pictured how odd I would look in this ensemble but I didn't want to return either. I removed the dupatta to make it only a two-way mismatch and walked into the hospital fortifying myself against the glares. I didn't give anyone a second look but it seemed that ladies smiled at me a lot more than usual.

Anyway, this kind of dressing mishap is becoming frequent and I don't know what's more worrisome; that I'm getting absent-minded or that I don't care to correct the mismatch even when I realize it. 

Still Thinking About It

It's amazing that more people in the world right now seem worried about the threat of Muslims ruling the world than from a warmer planet or a superbug.

Actually L sent me a couple of posts and then stopped. Don't know if my balancing act irritated or bothered her. She should know I'm having a hard time with it and right now my only worry is this topic playing any part in our friendship. 

L(R)eading from the Front

I'm trying hard to get Rishi to get back to some casual reading. But he studies most of the day and says he's tired of reading. So his typical pastime is poking his sister, occasional Duolingo, Sudoku and watching movies. Current favorite is Harry Potter, which we decided to take to only recently. I'm his movie guide and one of my few pleasures these days is to show him some of my favorite old movies. It's a nice feeling when your children love what you love too.

But Rishi has set firm rules for himself since he was a child and and being just the opposite, I mostly feel sorry about it. But occasionally there is envy; if only I could stop myself from sitting in front of nonsensical serials! But somehow after a long day's work, preceded by endlessly similar days, it's hard to read anything meaningful. But I so wish to go back to reading, really. May be I should start reading nonsensical.

Politically Incorrect

I hate to proofread my emails ten times and be nicer than I already am. I wish we were a less political workplace.

Is there anything a public figure can say or do these days without rubbing someone or the other the wrong way? It's like our diversity is finally showing and not for a good cause. 

Frustrated

Working from home is a not an easy job. Nobody around you takes the 'Working' part seriously. It's only 'Home' that they understand. 

Bickering Babies

The current running problem in our home is that Rishi, who is 15 years old and Anu, who is nine years old, behave like two twelve year olds. Nobody willing to back down on even the smallest point. So much so that I habitually reprimand them even on the odd occasions they are in agreement.

Past, Present, Future...

Singing the Old Tune

P is the boss of Hindi songs of eighties and nineties. There is not a song of that era that he doesn't have info on. By contrast, they hardly existed as far as I was concerned. The only Hindi songs I heard were played in buses or public programmes or rarely on Vividh Bharti, when my father was late to come home(I remember the excitement). I compensated to a degree in college but my collection is very selective and my favourites are more from the seventies and before.

But if there is one song that both of us remember vividly, it is Hawa Hawa by Hasan Jahangir. Late eighties and early nineties must've been some of the most divisive in India but if there was one thing that united us, it must've been this song by a Pakistani. It was everywhere irrespective of the occasion. And though now I wonder why it was so popular, I can't think of the song without remembering the fanfare around it those days. 

Kill-joy

Some people have such a huge sense of entitlement that they kill all the self-gratification that you may have derived out of helping.

Choosing the Faith

It seems that Razia has lost faith in Gods after her husband's death. But curiously, her faith in Allah seems fairly intact and it's the Hindu Gods who she used to regularly worship, that she's miffed with. I wonder what duties she'd assigned to each. 

Cheap Thrills

I like people who are careful with their money. But it's disgusting when they do it at others' expense. 

Old Habits

Something reminded me of my second serious hobby in childhood - collecting the matchbox covers. The first one was collecting feathers, which died an untimely death after an outbreak of brain fever. My mother, who never appreciated my interest in a non-vegetarian object like a feather, seized the occasion to make me throw the entire collection. I thought it was okay; when things returned to normal I could pick them back. But my mother was cleverer; she made me promise that I would never collect them again. I sigh thinking of those bright and shiny and soft things. .

Anyway, soon I turned to matchbox covers. I don't recollect what really started it but soon I was hooked to it. There were diverse themes and variations and I was fascinated. I learnt the art of scanning the ground I walked on. Of course this too didn't please my mother. I hardly walked straight, it was like I had unearthed a hidden treasure, they were everywhere on the road! And I didn't care if they were dirty, as long as they weren't torn and useless. But unlike before, I welcomed the opportunity to visit a shop, which was a hotspot. I particularly remember going to my aunt's place in Dharwad and the whole new bunch of covers I gathered there. I don't remember doing anything else but I was so happy!

The thing is, I just can't recollect why I abandoned the hobby. When did I move to the cleaner and more common hobby of stamp collection?