Deep Sea Musings

Reminders

2012-02-12T08:58:00.004+05:30

Yesterday evening, at a traffic light, I saw three street kids having the time of their life in the middle of all the vehicles. As soon the the lights turned red and the vehicles stopped, they shouted 'start' and ran between the vehicles playing hide and seek. All the time laughing and giggling and completely uncaring and unaware of the world passing by on wheels. One of them hid next to my autorickshaw trying to avoid the little boy tracking him. Another one bent low next to a black Honda salon. A few seconds before the light turned green, they were both 'found' by the boy tracking them, and all three erupted in laughter, slapped each other on the shoulders and walked off chattering away.

The world on wheels careened its neck to catch one last glimpse of the trio. A brief reminder of bliss, friendship, childhood, laughter and a niggling feeling of guilt. A few seconds later the lights turned green and with a silent sigh and a loud squeel, the world on wheels rushed on.

This afternoon

2012-01-27T15:18:00.007+05:30

Today I want to write about this afternoon.

The kind of afternoon which comes about only between the winter and the spring. The kind of afternoon when the sun borders on being too strong and yet is missed dearly when one escapes into the shade. The afternoon which burns the cheeks incessantly and yet comes with a sense of relief and pleasure.

This afternoon I sit with my left cheek turned towards the sun. The head tilted to one side to avoid looking the sun in the eye. This is the kind of afternoon built for dreaming about Africa and Jaipur and journeys and landcapes and authors and books and incidents far far away.

The afternoon made for sitting amongst grass and twigs and yellow buds about to unfurl into unruly maroon flowers. The kind of afternoon which just for today, is perfect, for dreaming and day dreaming and imagining words and worlds.

As I sit with my left cheek turned towards the sun, I am satiated and happy, with just this one afternoon.

This New Year's Day

2012-01-02T00:28:00.006+05:30

Winter Rain
and chill in the air

warm food
besides snug heaters

Family
reminiscing
and
building new memories

Friends far away
Cozy blankets
around Books
new and old

Cafetieres and decanters
Among cups of tea
with cardamom and cloves

Ghunghroo, forever in our thoughts and conversations
Rocky snug in his chair, chewing his way to happiness -
chairs, seats, blankets and today - a pair of woolen gloves

Resolve, hopes and a little bit of practicality
Tiptowing its way in.

with lots of Plum Cake
one ripe Fig
and more and more food.

Plenty to be thankful for
this New Year's Day.

This year

2011-12-31T00:23:00.003+05:30

This year..
Tread lightly my friend
For many have passed this way before us
And more will follow

May you do good deeds
And may good deeds find their way to you
..this year.

Snow dreams

2011-11-27T13:25:00.003+05:30

Preoccupied with
White Christmas quests
Travel plans, and
Number games
Under winter layers
And warm rays of the sun
This Sunday.

Aztec Spice for the afternoon cuppa
From my friend J's Christmas Collection.

Love

2011-11-13T06:10:00.008+05:30

Sometimes I miss this little guy so so much that it simply breaks my heart.

Today, a postcript in an email from a friend brought this on again. A dog really is one of the few beings in this world who will love you more than he loves himself. How is it possible for someone to be so utterly ecstatic to see you, each and every time? He was, and showed it -- each and every time that I headed home over the past seven years.

R.I.P. Ghungroo.

Loved and missed dearly.

Tea cups

2011-10-13T19:41:00.009+05:30

Today has been a nice day. Just nice. With the promise of impending winter. With the sunshine which felt so so welcome in the slight chill.

And a chance encounter with a blog with foodie tid bits about the city, really put me in the right mood for a cuppa!

Half a teaspoon of one of my favourite teas - The Spiced Imperial - by Whittard of Chelsea. Here's how they describe it: "..smooth black tea,..enriched with the taste of cinnamon bark and fragrant citrus peel, scented with spiky cloves and long dark pods of vanilla." It smells as good as it sounds, and for thee senses, is pure pleasure!

A teaspoon of the strong Red Label Tea (in Hindustan Lever's own words.." healthy, with a combination of tea leaves and tea dust"). Ha ha, healthy, robust and no nonsense. For those who like their tea strong - very strong. Tan tana tan!

Mix with a cube of sugar. And let it brew, let it brew, let it brew.

Add two teaspoons of milk and, voila! cuppa to be enjoyed with the fading light on the terrace.

Oh and top it with a drop of pure ginger juice..this one from Kerala is super.
And if you add more than four drops in a cup, it feels like you've bitten into a b@$$^y sharp ginger..
Like I did today :)

Maroon angles

2011-10-05T17:06:00.005+05:30

Shadows and shades
And shafts of sunlight
Racing across the sky
At weird angles.

Shadows which move
Like waves
And then disappear
Hiding silently
Inside
A throbbing head.

This morning..

2011-09-20T09:09:00.006+05:30

..with my cup of coffee, as the pigeons flutter and the sun rises in its intensity,
my thoughts, they go out to

JN thanks
being there from so so far away, as always
..luck to your new beginnings.

GS thanks
at the end of a telephone cord
..being the solid voice of reason.

SB thanks
..you suprised me with your maturity,
my little friend.

and AJ
..for your loss today
my prayers.

Those flowers

2011-09-14T00:26:00.006+05:30

Missing

Those flowers
so beautiful

like velvet

patient
fleeting
and oh so peaceful

in their beauty

Those flowers

deep
dry
earthy

and oh so
peaceful

in their beauty.

This day

2011-08-07T20:17:00.006+05:30

Yellow butterflies on yellow flowers
Watching
a red button rose
at the foot of a ceramic lady
Clouds and sunshine
Escaping
From more
words
Engaging, irritating
And closure
of another
book of words.

Twilight magic

2011-06-26T22:38:00.004+05:30

Walking
On a windy day
As dusk begins to fall
If you look hard enough
There is magic
All around.

Weekend Gumbo

2011-05-28T11:01:00.012+05:30

Tomatoes, green chillies, black pepper, dab of butter, pinch of salt, water
and ahem..rava idli powder :).

Dice tomatoes, cut chillies, add to pan and saute for a minute. Add the
rest of the ingredients, add water and boil on medium heat for about 6 minutes.
Garnish - preferabely with coriander, although sliced tomoato will do too.
Add a dash of dried mixed herbs, and..

..voila weekend gumbo ready to be enjoyed in the sunshine.
*Warning: Go easy on the green chillies. If you seriously overdo
it, make a dash for a bottle of cold orange juice (worked for me!).

Bon app.

The Gulmohar tree

2011-05-24T00:03:00.006+05:30

The flowers were dead even as the day broke
The already drooping petals did not even
Have the energy to greedily lap up the water
From the few raindrops which sheepishly followed
The raging dust-storm, nor from
The half full steel tumbler
Slowly turning a dirty green.

The bright bright reds and oranges
And the podgy buds
Remained closed to the scorching sun
And while the heat burned and the dust-storms raged
They drooped
Closer and closer to the tarmac
Knowing of no respite, but from
The few raindrops which sheepishly followed
The raging dust-storm.

Undulations

2011-05-01T22:33:00.005+05:30

Inching across kilometres and kilometres of
parched brown
grey
and dusty green
emotions reflecting on the ground
so so far below

That all u see are shadows

Then
a sharp turn
and flipping over
almost

Opening eyes
to realize
that even if you fall
it will be into the blue blue sky

Sunshine spaghetti

2011-04-16T22:42:00.011+05:30

These two days have been bloody B E A U T I F U L - literally! Despite all the shenanigans a day brings, nature really was fabulous. The sun was shining brightly. The leaves were green, the sky was blue and there was a pleasant breeze under the trees. Despite the sleepless nights, just stepping out in the gloriously beautiful day made me happy!

And the lunch recipe on this glorious weekend took 10 minutes to cook from scratch.

Spaghetti from Italy; almonds from Afghanistan; black pepper from India; chopped garlic, roasted sesame seeds, and a mixture of dried thyme, rosemary, sage, oregano and basil from Thailand. Lightly roasted and then tossed with butter and cheese.

And voila, heavenly 'Sunshine spaghetti a la internacianole' ready to be enjoyed outdoors in this fab weather!

Bon app.

Recipes of pain and pleasure

2011-04-16T19:37:00.009+05:30

"Is ghar ki kya deekh(sic) bhal karain, roz cheese koi nai toot jatea hai."

Chef by Jaspreet Singh is undoubtedly one of the most stunning books I have read in recent days.

The relationship between a book and the reader is intensely private. It is never the same for two readers. With connections made at so many different levels. Touching various chords of memories, pleasures, hopes. And the sheer indescribable pleasure of reading words, phrases, sentences which are so wrought with beauty that it is as much with fear, as with anticipation, that one turns the pages. (Plus he builds into the story, the shameful corruption scandals which have over the last few decades, plagued the one institution in India that people thought was above it.)

Chef is filled with line upon line of prose which makes you want to turn right back to page one and start re-reading the book, as soon as you have finished it. The beauty of the words haunts you for a long time afterwards. As does the sadness of worlds falling apart.

This for me, was a beautiful book to read. And after a long while, one in the same vein as Roy's God of Small Things.

A split second offence

2011-04-13T20:57:00.004+05:30

"Same thing happen to you AND your family"

As I read the text message, blood rushed to the face and for a split second I thought I had somehow offended someone. Then I realised that it was a delayed response to early morn Songkran greetings sent out to friends in Thailand. Conversing in English has sure had its amusing elements in this region.

Happy Songkran!

3BTs for today: Morning music, prezzies and old words

2011-03-10T21:40:00.010+05:30

1. Discovering Downtown by Petula Clark on the radio while driving to work, blasting it through the rest of the drive and whistling it walking up to the office.

2. After simply years, packing little prezzies in boxes - what a reminder of early teens!

3. Enjoying reading an amusing book, which just about a year and a half ago was kept aside after plodding through a few pages. Like other things, a book has to come at the right time for each person :)

Mis

2010-11-13T17:58:00.004+05:30

Growing as stoutely and desperately
As the scraping of a dry dead leaf
Clawing

While the birdie flits around
Staring happily
Her world
Her sky
Hers

Net piracy

2010-10-21T22:41:00.005+05:30

Upset to see a recently discovered cute - uplifting - imaginative blog having to go off air in terms of total change in format, because others have blatantly copied the images without acknowledgement and permission. Shame on them! And what a pity that Mila's Daydreams are now off limits to all because of those copyright infringements :(

Good luck to Mila and her mommy for creative outings through their forthcoming book.

To get an idea of what you missed, see: Mila's Daydreams

Khusro

2010-10-18T00:46:00.003+05:30

This Sunday has been spent soaking-in the stunning beauty of Khusro's kalaams. Some which I particularly like are the renditions by Abida Parveen of Man Kunto Maula, Chaap Tilak and Mosey Boolo Na. Lucky enough to hear her in person about six years ago at the Jahan-E-Khusro festival in the amazing setting of the Humayun's Tomb, I remember the powerful voice reverberating like thunder and swirling in a big vortex of fire. Whew.

Below are some stanzas from Man Kunto Maula:

Aaflak se laayi jaati hai
Seenon mein chupaaye jaati hai
Tauheed ki mein saagar se nahin
Aankhon se pilaayee jaati hai

Ishi talaasho tajasus mein
Kho gaya hoon main
Jo main nahin hoon to kyon hoon
Jo hoon to kya hoon main

Ishq kya shay hai
Kisi taamil se pucha chaahiye
Kis tarha jaata hai diL
Be dil se poocha chaahiye

Saaki tujhe kasam hai
jaanabe amir ki
behti phire sharab mein
kasti fakir ki

Yaar ab phir ek baar
fakiron pe marham rakh de
muddat hui hai
jyaarate insan kiye hue

Ab tumko bhool jaane ki koshish kareinge hum
Tumse bhi ho sake to na aana khayal mein

An afternoon in the tropics

2010-10-03T16:34:00.006+05:30

a glide
a chirp
the french manicured plume
of the white breasted
little bird
in the Burmese Days
of a sleepy mid afternoon
amid tea shops in Myaungmya
fluttering on its way to
finding Grorge Orwell in Burma

Dreams on the wall

2010-09-28T23:10:00.005+05:30

An old grainy yellowing paper
In the hand
Tired and comforting
Like a hard pillow
And dreams on the wall
Bright, psychedelic
And desperately holy
In trying conversations
With everything around
While the shadows
Oh the shadows
Wait patiently
For those dreams
On the wall

SO TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOUR ONE WILD AND PRECIOUS LIFE?

2010-08-30T21:32:00.004+05:30

I've been screaming this message inside my head ever since I cam across it.
Each time I feel sad, I scream.
Each time, I feel angry I scream.
Each time I feel upset, I scream.
Each day.
Every day.

Yes, JUST - ONE - WILD - AND - PRECIOUS - LIFE.

Puts things in perspective.

So, tell me.

Tell me.

Tell me.

Skyline

2010-08-09T19:26:00.006+05:30

Feeling like the charcoal grey skyline of any and every city.

Acceptance and identity

2010-07-29T19:12:00.004+05:30

A friend mentioned this to me a while ago, and it has stuck in my head and all too often I find myself repeating it to put situations in context.

'Some situations are neither good nor bad. They just - are. And you have to simply accept them as such.'

In a similar vein, here is a sentence I came across today and wanted to share.

'I AM, is the true identity of our real self.'

"Wrong triumphs over right, as much as right over wrong."

2010-07-25T18:06:00.008+05:30

"The summer of 1947 was not like other Indian summers. Even the weather had a different feel in India that year."

Almost every page has a phrase, a sentence, a paragraph, which I have read and re-read, pleasuring myself with it. The title is from the end pages and the line above, the first sentence, on the first page.

"Mano Majra has always been known for its railway station. This...gives its staff a somewhat exaggerated sense of importance. Actually the station master himself sells tickets through the pigeonholein his office, collects them at the exit beside the door, and sends and receives messages over the telegraph ticker on his table. When there are people to notice him, he comes out on the platform and waves a green flag for trains which do not stop.

Not many trains stop at Mano Majra...All this has made Mano Majra very conscious of trains.

Before daybreak the mail train rushes through on its way to Lahore..In an instant, all Mano Majra comes awake. As the midday express goes by, Mano Majra stops to rest...When the evening goods train steams in, they say to each other, "There is the goods train." It is like saying Goodnight.

Then life in Mano Majra is stilled, save for the dogs barking at the trains that pass in the night.

It had always been so, until the summer of 1947."

My earliest memories of Khushwant Singh are associated with his voice. At least I think it was his voice. Although, a quick search on Google today didn't get me a positive link. This was in the early 80s I think. We were in Delhi. Doordarshan had a documentary on the history of the majestic ruins of the Tughlaqabad Fort. And Kushwant Singh provided the background narration. Its one of those voices which stays with you, deep baritone. Couple this with his obvious command over English and more than twenty year's later, I can still hear it.

The author, eminently readable, definitely opinionated, humorous and honest. The Mark of Vishnu was the first story authored by Singh, that I read. It was in school, in the syallabus for 'English Literature'. I forget in which grade. The children, the tin can and Gangaram. I vaguely recall it. And I remember even at that age tucking him gently in the list of authors I liked. With Malice Towards One And All, The Company of Women and several short stories later, I finally reached Mano Majra today through the Train to Pakistan.

Long on my list of reads and falling snugly into my current phase of literary jottings around partition, having started and finished the book, I am still struggling to emerge from the small bylanes of Mano Majra.

Not that I want to in a hurry.

Lessons: technology hic..s

2010-07-23T18:55:00.007+05:30

Lesson of the day (Wednesday, 20 July 2010):

After consumption of 1 Beer + 2 Vodca-n-Cokes + 4 glasses of Red Wine, is not the best of times to send an email. Any email.

whateva

2010-06-06T19:39:00.005+05:30

read loads
finished: a Justine Hardy
started: an Andrew Whitehead

more reading lists

food: oh all kinds - Indian, Mexican, French
and then all three: fusion?
furniture and small furnishings
coffee - hot and cold: latter for some strange reason
coffee - instant and Balinese: neither helped
mangosteen vs mangoes: oh puhleese, the latter clearly
strange Chinese dessert vs Vietnames sweets: former very weird

phone calls, skypes, gtalks, emails

sleepless nights
sleepy days

Got lost in the same place on Sat
and then again on Sun

lectured
and
berated

self

not for getting lost
not in this way

relaxed a bit
cried a bit
stressed a bit

Desiderata
If
After a while

quick visits to familiar old blogs
Shimla Gallimaufry
I've noticed that I visit you during certain similar periods in life
Life Aint That Bad
and where did you disappear?

sat out
sat in

formed lots of opinions

and resolves

even prayed

sigh. and yet the bloody thing is just not getting written.

damn.

and nope, don't feel like sentence casing either.

Freaky freaky freaky

2010-03-19T21:53:00.005+05:30

Fifty minutes of a freakish roller coaster adventure. Pacific. Tonga. A missing laptop. Old colleagues. New colleagues. In the mind. Family. The only one. Emotions. Irritation. Dread. Chase. Men. Mobs. Cobbled walkways which existed. And those which did not. Huts. Closed doorways. Asking assistance. Dreading discovery. Photographs. The hyperactive mind. Not quite asleep. The hyperactive mind. Wide awake typing away.

Deja Vu. Almost.

Papers. Pacific. Fiji. Subordinates. Insubordination. Struggle. Not, Walking away. Does that count? Repeat conversations. And avoiding repeat conversations. Whats another word for avoiding unpleasant encounters. Hope - less? Or hope - full? Stupidity? Foolishness? And yet.

Yes. And yet.

For Eeeenglish Pleez Plezz Nine

2010-03-01T01:09:00.006+05:30

Seen on the website of an apartment house in Bangkok, Thailand:

-The number of people who can live in each room are not over 3 persons.

-Do not bring the illegal thing, every kind of animal, inflammable thing and fuel into the building.

-Do not play gambling and prohibit the outsider to congregate within the room.

-This building is for resident only. The hirer cannot make other business.

And

-Do not change and destroy the permanent attached thing with inspiring strength.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Love Letter - the handicraft shop in Yangon, Myanmar, lives up to its name with the following lovely words:

Welcome to Myanmar

We assort a handicraft in Myanmar and are waiting for everybody's crossing.

We sell the item of the owner careful selection such as the shell work, the shellfish picture, the rattan, the sandal, the pearl, the woodcraft.

Your Myanmar is surely found out.

Hmm..your guess dear reader, is as good as mine :)

Sounds

2010-01-24T14:38:00.005+05:30

Running a finger over the metal tubes of a windchime on a misty afternoon. The anticipation of the touch. Ears buzzing with the soft sound which plays. Much before it acually does.

Simple pleasures of materialism.

A daze and a doze on a winter afternoon

2010-01-09T15:16:00.004+05:30

On the verge of dozing off in the warm sunshine on a winter afternoon amidst the flowers, the trees and the green green grass. A recurring cacophany of sounds from the main road prevents deep sleep in the lawn. Just as well. Still have the energy to open one eye slightly, each time an interesting sound catches the attention. A moment ago it was the ghungroos tied around the legs of a running camel. The perfect blend of tiny metal balls striking against the little brass buds. The eager pace of the camel showing off happily. If it had a voice, I can almost imagine it hum a tune as it runs.

A bus braked with a very jarring screech and we all looked at each other and almost laughed at the ugly sound. How would the poor camel brake I wondered, just before closing the eyes again. Our own Ghunghroo meantime is hiding from the sun. Maybe thanking his stars for the neem tree which hides the rays of the setting sun. The poor tree. So large and dense with its own particular brand of dark green. Shrugs its pod laden shoulders gently in the breeze - 'can't please everyone', it thinks, as it turns some of the leaves to savour the sun. And we all doze off once again. Us, the flowers, the trees and the green green grass. On this winter afternoon.

Picture stories

2009-12-18T20:13:00.006+05:30

eyes

watching

stories; in the mind

a house

a bungalow

trees
shade
stairs
and
balustrades

drying
wet hair
with
sunshine on the face
on
cane chairs
surrounded by
lazy
hand held fans

Goa

a breeze
a verandah

iron benches
with baroque designs

whitewashed walls
with high ceilings

glasses
wine
newspapers
shades of maroon
and earth

Watching
stories
in slow motion
with almost a smile
inside

as I stood watching
this lovely lovely house

Ceramic pigeons

2009-11-14T23:15:00.005+05:30

The little girl with the wooden sandals
Tapping away on the walkway
And in the rain
Seeking C'mas
And words.
Beer gardens and coffee gardens
Never found
Number 38 which I wanted
Number 34 which I didnt.
Measuring the weeks
And the options
Holding on, off and on
In the rain.
Tap tap tap tap
Goes the sidewalk
On this day
In the rain.

You. On this day. At this time.

2009-10-24T09:31:00.009+05:30

Ground coffee from Bali
Lebanese baklava
Words, thoughts, ideas, wishes, a few tears, a few plans
Green trees and faraway skycrapers
And friends
Are in my thoughts this morning.
Those I know well
And those I have never met
You are in my thoughts today.

E.Gilbert, you of the three chapters.
D.Singh, sadness. at the way your were treated.
E.VB, I hope you are enjoying the train ride and when you get down the wind blows your hair around and gives you a refreshing start in the weekend city.
T.Li, I think of your long walks on the road in the busy traffic. Reminders to get out of office and get on with life. Cheers.
Beeps, I know you are with your kids and I see you walking with them and I see you smile. For your words of wisdom always I thank you. And for your patience, and love.
J., as I read this book I think of you in Dharamsala and the vipassana discussions and I see your hair and you make a smile and laughter hide in my cheecks raring to burst out.
Suu..I imagine you in Doon and Delhi. I think of you. And I see you giving presentations with that rushed diction of yours. Stay happy.
T.Myers, I remember your message and I have been meaning to write to you for months. I hope your Saturday starts as a bright sunny day and you have a lovely breakfast with your wife.
Shimla Galimauffry, I am thinking of your pictures and your desciptions and your words. As I imagine my travels, I think of the buildings and the atmosphere you capture. I hope your Saturday is relaxed and lazy and full of the explorations you enjoy.
Lash. Health and happiness.
and M. Gopinath. I have been thinking a lot of the balance you have.

A big hug to you all
On this day
At this time
You are in my thoughts.

Birdsong

2009-08-22T13:20:00.003+05:30

Its amazing how clear the sound of this one bird is. And how familiar. I hear it every day. Just the right decibel level. And just the right mix of I don't quite know what. I can hear it now. It is somewhere on one of the lush green trees of the neighbouring garden. It makes me think of spring. Newspapers. Lawns. Lazy afternoons. Napping in the sun. And mango orchards.

Concepts

2009-07-26T00:34:00.004+05:30

I said to someone the other evening "I want to go home". And thinking about it later, realised I didn't quite know what I meant..wonder how many people actually do. Those who do know, are really quite lucky.

..Dilemmas..

2009-06-07T23:42:00.006+05:30

(Almost) Perfect depiction of the mental state of last few months.
Sometimes decision time really does suck.

Silence

2009-05-02T15:42:00.006+05:30

On the road

2009-04-20T19:39:00.004+05:30

Traffic in the morning peak office rush hour today was held up by an elephant (what the...!) strolling along on one of the main highways of South Delhi, totally oblivious to the vehicles honking away. After a while people gave up and just followed the elephant wryly.

On the way back from work, close to home, two tiny little confused calves have been standing in the middle of the road darting to a side and then suddenly hopping right back in the middle of the busy road. These two must have given a scare to countless drivers today. Traffic has been crawling around them, while they play hopscotch.

Rush hour traffic? Hmm thats two mysteries solved today.

:-)

Shoepolish-wallahs and monkeys darting across roads..

2009-04-19T19:35:00.006+05:30

Delhi and Delhi-ites seem to be rushing around to fill the few days of still bearable summer evenings with outdoor activities. One such event was a live symphony and orchestra by the children of Prayas, providing a live soundtrack of a silent movie on Delhi, which was also made by the children.

Forts, monuments, heritage, children, life, struggle, hope, traffic, movement, dusk, light, glare, baloons, brooms, shoepolish-wallahs and monkeys darting across roads. Heading out of the home for an hour of this was well worth it.

The hills. Today morning.

2009-04-06T09:05:00.006+05:30

The wind.
Soft drizzle on the corrugated roof.
Distant chimes of a bell. Its a temple. I know.
A child crying in one of the distant cottages.
Crows.
Rain.
Mist.
Clouds.
Raindrops splattering on the ground, on leaves, on trees. Loud.
The wind. Gets a word in every few seconds. Getting bolder with each try.
A man walking on a path. On the only hill that I can see in the mist.
Silent footsteps.
Monkeys bounding across the tin roof, seeking shelter from the rain. Jarr the senses. Wake you up from your thoughts.

The morning is full of the silence of the hills, and the sounds.

The kindness of strangers

2009-04-04T09:10:00.003+05:30

Among the pep talk recounts by friends. Here's one that I heard recently -

On the train right now, was offered a share of the home-cooked food being eaten by the elderly woman sitting next to me. Brought back memories of another incident. A few weeks ago, on the same train, travelling on the same sector..it had been one of those days being repeated again and again over the past two months. And as I sat staring out of the window unble to hide the pain and tears, two elderly men sitting across from me offered me tea. And insisted that I drink it. About an hour later, as they got ready to get down at their station, one of them very gently and for a fleeting moment patted my head, wispered 'take care' and disappeared.

The lady sitting next to me, brought back that incident. Sometimes, the kindness of strangers, just keeps you hanging on.

I like Flowers

2009-04-01T20:10:00.015+05:30

Mist

Temptation

Symmetry

Maze

And if you like these, keep an eye out for more such colours and travel photography, on my online picture portfolio, to be launched soon.

The drizzle

2009-03-21T14:43:00.007+05:30

Today the leaves on the tree are in a mood to frolic - lazily.
Most do a languid Mexican wave starting from the back and moving to the front of the tree.
Some are fluttering around gently, doing their own thing.
The ones right on top are the exhuberant ones, waving madly to the airplane passing high in the sky.
More and more branches seem bare, but these are still being outnumbered by those full of leaves, green and yellow.
The leaves look young and happy.
The early morning drizzle seems to have done them good.
This weekend.

Being.

2009-03-08T10:04:00.003+05:30

It is Sunday morning. Summer is almost here but the morning breeze is still pleasant. The balcony doors are open and the curtains are drawn. I see the curtains billow slightly and move with the breeze. Slowly.

There are layers of sounds around. As you struggle to keep your mind busy. You focus on sounds.

There is a big neem tree outside the balcony. With branches laden with green leaves. Together defying the approaching summer.

I can hear the chirp of birds. Sparrows remind me of my childhood. Of the years of growing up. Happier times.

The curtains move slightly with the breeze. Transparent curtains have a way of allowing your mind to travel. You can look out into the world. The trees. The sky. You can see all this. But the world can’t see you. You are safe. And behind the slowly moving curtains, time moves slowly.

I focus on the birds again. So many sounds from the tree. But you have to listen carefully. When you reach for them, the sounds have a way of seeking you out and meeting you.

A bell rings in a distant flat. Loud flaps of the wings of a bird flying off from the tree. There are distant traffic noises. The world is getting busy. And the sound of a broom sweeping off leaves and dust on the road below. The sound of water. And another bird. Kabadiwallah doing his rounds of the colony. The door of the flat opposite just opened. It creaks and is not shut yet. So I wonder what they are doing. Maybe the partly open door is their curtain. Are they trying to hold on too. Are they thinking. Or does life go on as normal inside. They are busy with the act of living and have forgotten the door. They no longer need to focus on it. It is not that important.

Bits of the breeze escape from between the curtains and reach me for a split second. Then go back and move the curtains a bit more.

..wondering

2009-02-22T15:04:00.008+05:30

...that it is impossible to know all aspects of another human being. Or even to know all about just that one aspect. Both seem impossible. But then how well do we know ourselves. We might not really be as strong as we think we are. Or as weak. In both cases we didn't really know ourselves as well as we thought.

2009-02-04T20:05:00.003+05:30

'...There's a legend about an Indian chef. Apparently he would bake live birds into pies, so that they flew out the moment guests began their meal...'

From the article 'Magicians' in The Hindu/ Metroplus of 31 Jan 09.

Globalisation?

2008-12-11T12:13:00.003+05:30

No matter how many years one might have spent travelling around the world - some concepts just don't get easy to digest.

Got another one of those invites to a birthday party recently:

"..bring your love for parties, baloons, and whatever you want to drink.."!!

Would've anyway. But, being asked to in such categorical terms, leaves a bad taste in the mouth, - and I am not referring to cheap liquor this time!

Nope, I don't get it.

A Case of Exploding Mangoes

2008-10-12T16:35:00.003+05:30

A Case of Exploding Mangoes
By Mohammed Hanif

1) This is one book which languorously yet confidently treads the meandering line where satire, sarcasm and humour, merge into a very satisfying read. So, I will loudly disagree with elements of Chandak Sengoopta’s writing in The Independent, and volubly (as volubly as possible while hungrily gulping down one mouthful after another) agree with Robert Macfarlane in The New York Times. This book is not about waiting for the tension to build. The tension is in each page, to be enjoyed like the bits and pieces of conversations between Cadet Shigri and the Secretary General of the sweeper's union, through the slit in the wall of their dungeon cells. The writing is effortlessly humourous and flows like the plane in the grip of a ‘phugoid’. Sometimes it is outright humour, sometimes biting sarcasm, but always accompanied by a satire on the realist trappings of military, bureaucracy and the politics of power. The pleasure is in knowing that you'll get to ride this wave, up and down, up and down, right till the end. Quite like General Zia’s response to the aerodynamics in the closing moments of the book.

2) They have never - actually - enjoyed one. The anticipation. The first look and with that, the impending loss of control as you see the texture of the skin, flushed to various hues of orange and yellow, and sometimes a tinge of red. The fight to keep the fingers slow as the outer covering is peeled off to reveal the deliciously corrugated surface within. Some strands sheepishly trying to hold on to the skin leaving them so suddenly so exposed. The mind trying to hold the hand in check, which is preoccupied with its own struggle with the fingers. Focusing on keeping them soft, slow, yet steady. The mouth already tasting the pleasure, measured by the increasing frequency of desperate swallows. In anticipation.

No, unless you have tasted it, you would not know what I am talking about.

-----------------------------------------------------
Why 1 and 2? Because sometimes I am quite greedy. And impatient. And impulsive. For example, if you look in my wardrobe, you will find ‘two’ of my favourite tops, ‘two’ of my favourite shorts, and so on and so forth. If I can’t decide which colour I like better, I take two and maybe three. I shut my mind for that hundredth of a second when I say, “I’ll take both.” Friends who know me well, and when given a choice of a gift brought back from holidays, know that the next question to ask is “What ‘other’ colours do you have”. :-) Anyway, I divert from the issue here. The issue being that I wanted to write a few lines about a book which I finished reading a few hours ago, and thoroughly enjoyed from cover to cover. First I wanted to write in a particular way, then almost mid sentence, I went off in a tangential direction. But, I wanted them both.

Answers

2008-10-12T01:56:00.005+05:30

Some of us still sat around the table. When one person asked, "So what is the thing which you crave for most at this point in your life - success, love or peace?" All of us thought for a few seconds, and each one said - love.

The one person who, I thought, would have answered differently, had already left.

I checked the next day.

I was right.

Prayers..

2008-09-19T07:11:00.030+05:30

..and hopes

..that was Bhutan for me.

Pl. comment or send me a line if you would like a link to the whole set.

Are you happy?

2008-09-02T01:01:00.007+05:30

Nowadays I am mostly just tired.
Trying to be happy does that to me.
And pseudo-intellectual conversations.
Or any other kind, for that matter.
Conversations I mean.
Including my own thoughts.

I would rather sit and observe.
In a crowded room.
Observe.
The snippets of conversations vying for attention.
Some more desperate than others.
Trying to hide in nooks and corners. Just when you are about to make sense out of them.
Crescendos. Rising and falling.
Shamelessly pimping themselves.

Aah. This is nice. This hide and seek.
Moving across a room with the eyes following the thoughts.
(Or is it the other way around?)
A frown here and there.
Trying to catch up.
With the cool breeze and the few drops of rain sliding over the glass windows.
Or the smoke clawing at the ceiling, in desperation. Trying to get away.
Sometimes it is beautiful.
This game.

It makes me smile to myself.

And just smiling to myself is enough for now.

Fishnet tales

2008-08-10T21:16:00.006+05:30

I am a Piscean.

I don't like seafood. Because I am a Piscean.

I can't swim. Because I am a Piscean. I know, this one does not even make sense. My convoluted explanation (excuse) is that I have an affinity to the fish and the litty bitty tiny creatures which go in your mouth with the clorinated and dirty (lets not even go there) water are related to me, hence....this is where I sort of begin to lose the thread...

My Dad would be flabbergasted that I have seriously un-learnt the swimming that I was capable of as a child.

My colleagues have given up on teaching me, because instead of seeing me stressed in office every so often, they have started seeing me stressed everyday from 3.00pm onwards because it is just five hours to a dip in the pool, and I am counting each and every measly minute with dread. They gave up pushing me, when a few of them saw me calmly standng in the pool stuck to the wall, and then disappear from view for a few seconds before coming up spluttering water and then disappearing again... "What the hell happened??" "Uh, I slip as soon as I let go of the wall." The colleagues escorting me, now look as stressed as I do.

It is as clear as daylight, that as the dusk falls, all the 'grown-up' novices head to the toddler end of the pool. And when each and every one of them gapes at you with their mouths open, while you cling to a friend shouting for your life- "PROMISE YOU WON'T LET ME GO, PROMISE YOU WON'T LET ME GO"..well that just takes the cake. The friend, politely (and increasingly regretfully) says "I won't" while all the time trying really hard to not dunk your head into the water for (ahem), as long as it takes to..well, lets just say, I set a new target in learner's block, each and every day.

And yes, it does take a special kind of talent to stand in mortal fear of life, in two feet deep water while more than three feet of you is still sticking out of it. But as I said at the start of this tale -

I am a Piscean.

The thirst-hikers guide to the galaxy

2008-07-25T21:07:00.007+05:30

"The first number was wrong.
The second rang, loud and shrill, forcing her to jerk the receiver away from the ear for a split second..
Riiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiing
'Hello'
'Uh, is this Earth'
'Hold please'
Silence for a few seconds, before a slightly more modulated voice comes on line -'Yes, hello'
'I was trying to find out if this is Earth'
'Yes'
'Uh, we were on our way, can u give us directions'.
Static followed by what seemed like garbled words, which we managed to decipher as a very heavily accented response.' Then the second voice came back on line -
'Did u get that'
'Uh, um, yes'
'Can you keep some space for us..?'
'Earth is very crowded on Friday's,.. but how many?'
'Three'
'What time?'
'About 8.30'
'Ok ma'am, where r you coming from'
'India, uh I mean...Delhi'
'Okay'."

'As I giggled to myself over having to start a conversation with..."Is this Earth?" and egged the driver on in the general galactic direction, we inevitably were caught up in the very un-Earthly traffic heading out of Delhi. Finally reaching destination more than an hour late, we realised that the crossed fingers were useless and we'd lost the 'space'. However, the Earthlings found us places at the bar, where we gladly rested our tired bones, and focused on uncrossing the fingers while quenching our thirsts with greedy gulps of wine.

The place gets a solid thumps up.

And yes, I was right, its owned by the same company which owns my favourite chillout place in Delhi, hence the same signature decor and absolutely great chillout music. But what makes Earth a tad better than Stone, is the cocktail menu and wine list. With the best, yup -'The Best' Martinis I have had - in or in the vicinity of the capital. Unfortunately, the service is not at par, and the food and service is where Stone goes a notch up.

Three hours and four great Martini's later, I was just glad that Earth was a bit far for me to reach regularly, otherwise, between Stone and Earth, my already depleting dough balance, would obscurely disappear in the milky way.

Being detective

2008-07-20T11:41:00.003+05:30

One of life's little mysteries propagated by the big and small screen - the mystery of the cliched snapping shoe heel...

Two simple questions and two simple answers:

a) Does it actually happen?
Yes.
In a crowded place.
And when you least expect it.

b) So then how do you walk?
You don't.
You develop a desperate coping mechanism.
Here's how mine went: stumble, drag foot, drag foot, little ballet step with heel off the ground, stumble, drag, drag, ballet step, ballet step, stand still and think 'this can't be happening', drag, ballet step, ballet step, watch with the corner of the eye how many people are watching, big drag, small drag, and so on and so forth..

In hindsight, its not that difficult really. And employing full force when throwing shoes in the bin, definitely helps in the healing process.

Ethiopia

2008-06-05T00:46:00.009+05:30

Finally, a small selection of some of my favourite images from Ethiopia.

The country, is amazing. And the people -- beautiful, gracious and kind.

Audience

Beauty

Silhouttes

The Poser

Market

Tiss Isat

Pastels

Conversations

Escape

The others are being uploaded on Shutterfly. If you'd like a link to the whole set, send me a line or comment below and let me know.

Waves

2008-05-31T22:56:00.005+05:30

Evenings which serenade you with a cool breeze accompanied by gentle promises of a few pure droplets on the skin
Planes which shudder in the sky and rise up above the stratosphere
Sauces flowing down the shins and
Catching up with friends after a seven-year itch
Exhilerating, depressing, yet hopes that next time
Whenever wherever would be in calmer times,
Inside us.
Gentle tentative hugs and almost embarrassed smiles
Lifelong waves and
Wishing a tsunami would calm the turbulance inside
Time melting away too swiftly for comfort
Because, yes, there are just too few of us around
And learning the hard way is never easy.

A shout out to I in G, J in A, M in B, S in E and C and C skipping away into the sunset in the Maldives. Till next time folks. Love you all, as only a tipsy being can!

On parallel realities

2008-05-12T11:49:00.005+05:30

An extremely morose and melancholic week, spent seriously wondering - and with increasing realization, that there just might be a parallel reality where all the spines have migrated. Leaving the current one saddled with small words like dishonesty and diplomacy.

Yes I did say I like words. But just words, are just that, and often not enough.

I guess, we all have our private initiation ceremonies.

It takes getting used to.

Seeking a utilitarian utopia

2008-04-28T08:53:00.005+05:30

The question is:
To be or not to be - at peace?
Peace.
I hate the word.
Just like the bard. And the famous characters. Illusive. Yet ever destructive in the hope of its achievement. Some ignore mirages, some seek them actively. The fools.
Perhaps the best way to achieve the P word - dirty as it is - utopian as it is - is to enable the brain to think in a compartmentalized manner (or was that the heart, one forgets). Pseudo-imitating James Clavell-like samurai spirits.
Does that work in this day and age?
Remains to be seen.
"Peace"
I hate the word.

That nip in the air

2008-03-10T09:40:00.003+05:30

Desperately holding on to a fast receeding winter by goose-pimpled hands and ever so slightly numb fingers. Clouds and mist, those almost perfect bedfellows caressing the skin to give a sensuously languid start to the day. Ideal memories to last the long long summer.

Yes, despite the mopiness and preoccupations, twas a good start today.

Thank you.

The Hidden Weekend

2008-03-03T11:12:00.007+05:30

The Weekend: Episode 1 (re-run?)

Primary feature: Classic and chronic faux pas

Primary activities: The weekend has been spent in:
a) hiding the embarrassment, and
b) quite simply hiding.

Umpteen drinks required in desperate attempts to forget, but perhaps drowning in good strong shots of caffeine in a mug will suffice. Perhaps.

Hmpfh

2008-02-17T11:27:00.003+05:30

Not looking forward to spending the birthday on an utterly utterly utterly utterly pointless and useless day-long bus journey, with a bunch of pricks.

Dammit.

In transit

2008-02-07T17:59:00.001+05:30

Arrogance can only ever be tolerated in one kind of person - a talented musician. And that too, only while great music is being played. But when talent combines with looks and is topped with that most scant of qualities - humility, THAT - is the deadliest of combinations right there.

Here's to Crosswinds in Kolkata.

Far from the crowd

2008-01-27T14:05:00.000+05:30

I seek company of friends, old and new, when I am alone. But I've discovered that, I prefer my own company in a crowd. The trappings of joy de vivre are addictive, but then listening from a distance has its own moments. It has its not-too-sharp curves with deja vu signposts zipping by - slowly.

Watching in slow motion and listening from far far away, to someone sitting in front of you...
..Its like seeing an old frayed fawn-edged black and white photograph..
..Like watching cigarette smoke twirl elegantly towards the ceiling..
..Like slowing tracing your finger over someone's eyebrow..
..Its like writing words in your mind.

You get up, walk away to the distance, without the other person realising that you are no longer there. You learn things about the other person. Often just irritants, but sometimes surprising things, which gently tug you back.

Sometimes you even learn about yourself.

"Cymballic"

2008-01-21T13:05:00.002+05:30

Discovery: "Cymballic"*: The sound emanating from rapidly gyrating cymbals. A very 90s (late) groove sound popular in the UK, at the cross-roads of a cacophony of the aforementioned percussion instruments, medium drum & base and pop-electronica. Popularised by musicians such as Armand Van Halden, The Chemical Brothers and Fat Boy Slim.

Trigger point: Why Try Harder

Peak: Without doubt its - I See You Baby, but also Christopher Walken in Weapon of Choice, and the goofy Praise You video. Reminiscing student life at K.

Postscript: (1)Now why the hell did nobody think of this word earlier? (2)Ideally this should have gone in the Words and Wordsmiths blog, but oh well, whatever.

*Not to be confused with the more common 'symbollic'

Starters and appetizers

2008-01-06T01:46:00.000+05:30

This - has got to be a record of sorts, even for me - within the first four days of the year, I have broken almost each and every one of my long list of new year resolutions. Yes, the usual suspects got crunched despite best intentiones - me, men, moods, money, booze, work, gym, food, etc...(..and you know what, so far it feels great ;-) !)

Still tomorrow is another day and another shot at the resolutions. 4 glasses of red wine, 1 shot of tequila, 2 shots of gin, 2 GnTs, 2 margaritas, 1 passion plum, no sleep for 2 nights and a bloody good mug of coffee, is enough to lift anyone's spirits (pun absolutely intended). Hence, here we go again at a second shot at the list....fingers crossed.

Cheers, and happy resolutions all. Yaaaay!

Muah.

Saving face, kindness and catching-up

2007-12-20T12:21:00.000+05:30

Here it is, the second ever 'three beautiful things' post. (See the first one from October 2006 at this link). Giving a shout out to Clare of the original TBT.

- So most of my friends have heard of the disasterous meeting of last week, and I am just about (emphasis on 'just a teeny weeny bit') getting out of the tomato red embarrassment phase. Flashback to the classic faux pas moments on TV programmes, well this one fit the bill to a T. On one of my most off days ever, in one of the most important discussions of this month, my mind decided to have a mind of its own! Now, its easy to say, 'Can you repeat the question' when one hasn't started off on the answer already, however it gets a tad bit difficult when one has been talking for well over a minute and then to suddenly stop and say 'uh..I'm sorry, even though I have been talking for a while, I have forgotten what the question was, could you uh...repeat it please. Classic embarrassment. But how does this fit into a TBT mode, well thanks to friends who've heard this disaster story so many times that their guffaw's have begun to tease a smile out of my grumpy face as well. :-)

- Another classic horror scenario happened when I walked into one of my favourite book-shops in the city, with a cup of coffee, and then proceeded to spill it (accidentally of course!) over a whole pile of the latest bestsellers! Another 'oh my God, this is not happening' situation. But the shop owners, very kindly accepted the apologies, and responded to my 'I can buy these books if you want' with a smile and 'its perfectly all right Madam, don't worry'. Its always nice to come across nice people - those few who do exist, so yeah a definite TBC contender.

- A continuous one-on-one quality time with friends over leisurely drinks in comfy lounges. Getting a chance to catch-up with friends transiting through the country/state/city over fantastic glasses of wine and making plans of life in 2008. Fantastic.

On that note, a big Hobbes hug to all. Yeah, I am feeling particularly festive this afternoon :-)

Diwali eve

2007-11-08T22:31:00.000+05:30

FINALLY on the train home on Diwali eve. Dead tired after spending five hours on a crowded platform, waiting for a train which kept getting delayed and delayed and delayed. The saving grace was the platform humour which erupted in spurts from one or the other corner, much like the firecrackers in the sky - which unfortunately were no great shakes at providing entertainment to the tired crowd at the station. Anyhow, the train, usually on time, decided today to get delayed by almost four hours. So for those of us, who had dilligently reached the station well on time, it turned out to be a bloody long wait.

"Yatri krupaya dhyan dein, Delhi junction se chal kar ... ko jane wali ...Express tees minute deri se aane ke sambhavana hai." ..after the said 30 minute, turned into "...Express...ek ghanta aur thees minute der se aane ki sambhavana hai", and so on and so forth. By the time the fourth announcement was made, about two and a half hours after the original delay, the platform could do nothing but erupt into giggles and chuckles (or maybe it was chuckles and giggles, I am just too tired and sleepy to remember exactly). The same people who a minute ago were damn irritating, - the group of tipsy men listening to music on the phone at full volume, the kid running around between the legs of passengers while the mother looked on with pride and the father looked on with exasperation, the constantly quarrelling couple, and so on - each time the mike crackled on, loud "shhhhs" rang through the platform, followed by an agitated and just barely controlled silence. After the first few annnouncements, the chuckles were accompanied by "Maro yaar announce karne wale ko",clearly said in jest by the large group of college students sitting next to me. Who said it and then simultaneously erupted in laughter. Maybe the message got through to the railway announcer nevertheless, who, in the very next announcement, went deadly silent after the first four words, "Yatri krupya dhyan dein..". Thats it. The sentence remained unfinished. The mike silently crackled, while around the platform merriment rang out and a loud voice said, "Ab bol na himmat hain to!!!".

But now that one is in the train finally, and on the way home for Diwali, here's wishing everyone good festivities and good cheer on journeys home. And for the railway employees at the Delhi stations, well, here's to crackling mikes and just about amused passengers.

Happy Diwali all.

Humming, Hemmingway and things which make me go (H)Mmmm..

2007-10-16T22:41:00.000+05:30

- Evenings: And new memories. Which for days and days have made me smile and sing to myself while driving to work every morning.

- Reconnection: Out of the blue connection with an old friend after years of searching and giving up. Glad to be back in touch Mr. Thesis!

- Places: I'd rather have been these few days at: Burma, Kabul, Paris

- Alternative careers: Colleagues in the know have officially certified an alternative calling as a fashion designer. Looooong story! Those of you who know me, have already heard of - and seen it, and man, it makes me clutch my stomach and guffaw each time I remember the gala dress (enough said!)

- Irritants: "Celebrities" - queensize egos, pintsize brains; "Media" - brainless twits with nothing but attitude; Microsoft Word 2007 - WHERE the f are all the options?; Flu and colds; Airtel - I give up, outsourcing does not always work; cleaners; and, live bands which play less and talk more.

- Career I will NEVER EVER follow: celebrity management

- Key-work-words: Life, before and after gift!, the declarations - the recommendations - and the tantrums, fantastic media who know their stuff and media who are anything but, self-sufficiency, inspirational speeches, following-up and being followed, dog bites and missing laptops, and oh yes the lone International Red Cross. Some recovered, and some in recovery, but all in all a successful commencement.

- Thank God for: friends who stand for tantrums and friends who bang the drums of common sense. A shout goes out to J in H, R in E and S in U.

- Music of the fortnight: Ethnic Motives in Jazz ('El Bembe' -Jimmy Wilson, 'Afro-Cuban Drum Suite'-Dizzy Gillespie); French Lounge ('Breathe' and 'Smile' -Telepopmusic; 'License'-Agent 5.1); Latin Groove ('Linda manigua'-Sidestepper, 'El Carretero' -Barria Cubano de Ronald Rubinel, 'Yorulamento' -Supatone)

- Things I enjoyed the mostest: Inspirational speeches, lime margaritas, and mmmm..beaucoup de baisers (absolutely and utterly not in that order!)

- Current state of mind: anticipation

SOLD

2007-09-30T23:52:00.000+05:30

All I can say is, read it.

Prose, pain and pathos.

Here's an excerpt:

"MATHEMATICS

In the village school we were taught to add, subtract, multiply, and divide.

The teacher gave us difficult problems, asking us to figure out how many baskets of rice a family would have to sell to buy a new water buffalo. Or how many lengths of fabric a mother would need to make a vest and pants for her husband and still have enough for a dress for her baby.

Here I do a different set of calculations.

If I bring a half dozen men to my room each night,and each pays Mumtaz 30 Rupees, I am 180 Rupees closer each day to going back home. If I work for a hunderd days more, I will surely soon have nearly enough to pay back the 20,000 Rupees I owe to Mumtaz.

Then Shahanna teaches me city substraction.

Half of what the men pay, goes to Mumtaz, she says. Then you must take away 80 Rupees for what Mumtaz charges for your daily rice and dal. Another 100 a week for renting you a bed and pillow. And 500 for the shot the dirty-hands doctor gives us once a month so that we won't become pregnant.

She also warns me: Mumtaz will bury you alive if she sees your little book of figures.

I do the calculations.

And realize I am already buried alive.

-

See

>:-( Hmphf

2007-09-19T23:52:00.000+05:30

Do you have those days when you're angry and upset with everyone and everything (And, NO, this is not a question, its a bleedin' statement). Well, its been a long month of such endless days.

So here's a half-hearted sort of attempt at 'looking at the bright side' and all that cliched blah blah.

Good things:
- Friends who keep in touch, no matter how weird you act. God bless you!
- Unexpected emails which make your day and make you daydream.

Now am going to breath in and out slowly (does that work for anyone??), shut up, and retreat back in my mind.

Imperialists and dreamers

2007-07-18T20:27:00.000+05:30

Rory Stewart is of middle height, lanky frame, with slightly long hair, and the last time I saw him, he wore jeans, a white shirt and a long black coat. Rory Stewart is a 30 something former British diplomat, who, not too long ago, held the position of Deputy Governor of a region of southern Iraq. (.. trying my best to ignore the 'neo-colonization' blinker flashing across the mind...) He is also the author of a book based on his solo trek around Asia, including through the conflict-ridden Afghanistan. Rory Stewart is also a glib talker, as glib diplomats go. I heard him speak at a panel discussion about a year ago. And it was not difficult to visulaise him in the role of the young governor/diplomat, imperialist overtones notwithstanding. He speaks the way I wish I could, as do most young people who dreamed while growing up, of being revolutionaries-authors-Presidents-adventurers-archealogists-pirates, all rolled into one. He articulates scenarios with oh so impassioned words but with an expressionless face, - cliched diplomacy at its best. And, Rory Stewart, now an ex-diplomat, is currently working in Afghanistan, on restoring/ preserving old Kabul architecture. To sum it in a sentence, Rory Stewart is the modern-day real-life version of the fabled adventurers mentioned in many an adventure book. And, one of many examples why 'too busy with life to follow that dream' seems like such a feeble excuse.

Here is the link to a recent article about the architecture preservation work he is doing, and an older and more general one on his various stints.

The picture is taken from The Telegraph article linked above.

Lesson # 1

2007-06-09T00:17:00.000+05:30

The weekend fast aproacheth. Hence taking a cue from Three Beautiful Things, and meandering off in my usual style, here are Three Lessons Learnt, from last weekend:

1. After one-two-many, no matter how slow one speaks the words slur. In fact, the slower you speak the more elaborate and in-slow-motion cometh the slur. Solution: Keep mouth (and mind) shut, after three drinks. Good luck with that one though. Lemme know if it works. (Uh what did you ask..right..yeah we are working towarjeuq..I mean towardashddud, well towaaaasd..oh well see its better if yo cals..yo cald.. me on my office number over the week, here's my carth..well, here is half of it anyway..let me see if I can find the other half in my bag somewhere..(take a big gulp of the drink to drown the sheepish smile..and walk off))

2. Never buy ciggies when plans for 'a quick drink' are afoot. Because, you'll be too out-of-it to recall what happened to the yet unopened packs. Hint: left it on the table. That could be any table - in a pub, restaurant or somebody's house, but usually its a table. (Drat! Both the packs were unopened, AND I left my lighter.)

3. Giving the DJ repeated dirty looks is NOT going to change the music. Hint: a) change the venue b) have another drink.

Venues: Shalom, Stone, T's house
Drinks: Lime Margarita, Blue curacao margarita, Kiwi margarita, G & T with bitter
Food: Some sort of ridiculously small but exorbitantly priced mezze platter. Taste: don't recall!

Happy weekend all. Esp, S in W (jetlagged (but happy) I bet!), I in G (I know doll, will email soon), S in the outskirts on one side of the city (happy treadmillin), J in the outskirts on the other side of the city (c u tomorrow..been a while), and S almost in the neighbourhood (don't think, just eat).

Sonnet # 22

2007-06-05T14:21:00.000+05:30

And this; is simply beautiful..

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again.

- William Shakespeare

The proverbial bright bulb or a whiff of cool air

2007-05-29T22:18:00.000+05:30

'PM flays cancer of power theft'

The headline just caught my eye, barely, but it did. It seems our dear PM is out on an ethical drive. What with the recent 'To do' suggestions to the CII, - point No.1 (on 'profit marginalisation within the limits of decency and greed', or as some punters stated 'obscene salaries') of which, was promptly rejected by the industry the next day. At least the dear man is trying. With politicians, making sense of even simple statements leads to mucho head scratching, if not outright banging of the head. MS is well educated, has a small family, AND has no criminal complaints filed against him. Hurray, a ray of hope. Although, the issue of him fighting elections from his 'home' state of Assam, where he apparently resides, is a bit of a puzzle. But thats for a later date. Today is for some sparks.

So what did this news report remind me of?

May is almost over and thank the lord that with the showers every couple of days, it has been bearable. But the sun is nevertheless glaring down. In this heat, on my room, in second floor, there is no air conditioner. Yup. Un-f*****gbelievable but true. The landlord neither allows the tenants to put one, nor does the deed himself. The pure and simple reason being the old-fashioned tampered meters in the house. So, the offer to cover all costs, offer to go to elec. dept., offer to drive him to the elec. dept. etc. etc. have all gone to nought (or to coin a new phrase ' have drowned with the Davy Jones'!). A series of discussions, arguments, pleadings, poutings, etc. have led to a sweaty standoff. But what is interesting is the progression of excuses. Here is a sampling:
1. Yes, we will put an ac.
2. We have not had free time.
3. No electrician is available.
4. Waiting for the known electrician.
5. Electrician said it is not possible to put an ac.
6. It is too expensive.
7. Electricity department needs an application for ac installation.
8. Waiting for electricity department to get back.
9. We have guests from abroad.
10. We were ill.
11. I have to talk to the electricity department.
12. Electricity department orally said no.
13. We don't want to show our meters to the department.
14. New meters are too expensive.
15. New meters run too fast.
16. Wiring is too old.
17. Wiring cannot be replaced
18. House is too old.
19. House will burn down.
20. No.

Hmm..what can I say. Are his lies and stealing elec. what makes him a bastard, or is it also the seven-year old kid working as a domestic servant in his house? Does it really matter. This is the state of an educated, 80-something couple, earning about 30,000INR just in rent from one of their properties in Delhi. So, is it even worth tuh-tuhing to the cleaner earning about 4,000 a month who attempts to steal power from the neighbourhood cable off and on. Lets sweat over it. (and no, I don't mean that in a nice way).

Cocktails and cuff-links

2007-05-05T20:41:00.001+05:30

A week of sorts.
Remembrances - old friends, -..si..
..gh..- a shout out to M. Mr Perfect.
Weight lifting and accents with lisps
A shiny silver ball, cuff links and ear studs
narcotics and a fan following
hair growing on palms (ha)
Touching base - almost
The wait.
The analysis.
elections and candidates
hangovers and a last question
Isn't kissing in public illegal in India?

The tally stands at:
Lime margarita - 2 Gin and tonic - 1 Blue lagoon - 1 Vodca and juice - 2 Comfortini -1 Devil's wiskers - 1

Current state of mind: tired and irritated, - with a (nagging) dash of hope, all mixed into a crappy cocktail.

The mind and the eyes

2007-04-17T23:49:00.000+05:30

Eyes, eyes, eyes, the all seeing
Weeping, watery, worried
Intervals of two and four, and
A long afternoon journey with lots of memories
Old, and new ones, desperately trying to be formed.

The heat, homeless and searching
Avoided calls and missed meetings
The Witches of Eastwick
The Good Cop/ The Bad Cop
The Namesake, and other
half formed titles.

Current state of mind: Preoccupation

Images

2007-04-03T18:18:00.000+05:30

An acquaintance had sent yet another forwarded email. Before deleting I went through it briefly, and among the many wrenching images, these three pull the most strings, each time.

1989: A young man in China stands before the tanks during protests for democratic reforms.

1980: A kid in Uganda about to die of hunger, and a missionaire.

1990:A mother in Somalia holds the body of her child who died of hunger.

The night show

2007-03-06T21:46:00.000+05:30

Date: March 4, 2007 (wee hours)
Event: Lunar eclipse (total)

While others captured the phenomenon through images such as this

and

My tiny little phone camera struggled with:

03.26am

04.00am

04.07am

and this

04.25am

Yes, I know this is just a photo of 'blackness' but before you laugh, I HAVE very helpfully drawn two arrows where I (hmm) 'think' the moon was. So chose option a or b, and stare hard at the photo.

Still, it was a good experience. The night/morn was really nippy and I was working on a deadline so the venture involved me dashing out to, and back in from, the terrace, while the full moon lit night gradually became darker.

And since, somewhere in the middle of me very sleepily but valiantly standing on the terrace, I suddenly remembered my cleaner's spooky words re the little banyan tree plant growing out of the wall on one side of the terrace, and all her unsaid, but nonetheless well modulated comments on the spookiness of such plants, came back to haunt me (no pun intended). That explained to a large degree, the urgent need for me to look around wildly and make desperate dashes inside the house, before once again braving the terrace. Still, all in all, the going to sleep at 5.00am on Sunday morning was worth it.

In hindsight, this is how it would have seemed to a random observor:
Female, with short, but wild uncombed hair comes out on the terrace every 20 minutes between 2.00 - 5.00am. Stares at the moon silently for 5-6 minutes, then looks around increasing wildly, before running back inside the house. And while the moon is covered by an ominous shadow, this happens again and again and again......

The first two images taken from the BBC website, and for more such fantastic images, see link

Another birthday, and another new year. Yaay!

2007-02-24T21:59:00.002+05:30

So, the euphoria has almost worn off (the day after the birthday is soo anticlimactic) and its not been so 'yay' anymore, but desperately clutching on the the straggly ends of my new list of resolutions, here's me trying to be more (unrealistically???) optimistic. So 'yaay' once again!

Yes, another birthday and another new year.

The day dawned bright and early! The 'brightness' started way before dawn, with dear friends at midnight (okay, so technically it was still 15 minutes before midnight and all our watches were about 5 minutes faster or slower than the other..(note to self: synchronize watches with all close friends)), chocolate cake and red wine on an ever-so-slightly nippy terrace. Very nice. Yaay!

Call from a dear friend continents away. Nice. Somehow pensive. Yaay! for close friends.

I seem to be spending most of my significant dates in trains (partly at least). So, following the tradition, the 5 am trip out from home for the train station, and with me after barely 40 minutes of sleep (well, lets just say, this won't be a sentence suffixed with 'yay'!). Well..But, the start was not all that bad. The taxi arrived before time - as usual, but instead of the driver honking on the horn to jarr me awake well before the appointed time, he actually waited patiently. Yup. :-). And since this was a mid-week train journey, the platform was not crowded and I got a nice porter to carry my heavy luggage. And, he ended up being a nice young person to chat to. I did catch him look puzzled at my constant monologue, but he eventually joined in and so we ended up talking, in a refreshingly pleasant way, about the railways, about the station and about mid-week train journeys. My reservation was of a nice window seat, AND barely into the start of the train journey the messages started coming on the phone. Yaay! Now, I am not (much of) an egoistic person, but it feels real real nice when ppl remember the special day. And they kept coming throughout (uh..almost) so it was goooood goood good (as Bruce Almighty would say). To top the morning off, it dawned nice and chilly with a fantastic fog. Perfect perfect perfect start to the day! Yaay!

(Oh and before I get too carried away with this 'being optimistic' business, I simply must tell about the eclectic ticket checker or rather the 'TT'. So, ages after leaving school, I felt like a school kid. And this time it was a TT sitting down and taking attendance of the compartment! While everyone either snickered or pretended to ignore, it was hard not to be amused. So Mr.TT plonked himself down on the corner edge of 'my' set of seats and proceeded to call out names of passengers at the top of his voice, and so forth, - for all the passengers to hear, while I desperately prayed for God to make him go away before he shouted out my name, and worse, the age. (I don't think God got enough notice for this request, so, well, it did not work). The fun actually started when a passenger was found to be missing. And then a series of loud announcements on whether anyone had seen 'Ms. Kiko. Foreign Lady. 26 years of age', followed by the TT conscientiously walking the length of the compartment looking for her. At various points of pacing about, he would stop and lecture a passenger on the importance of keeping proper records of the passengers of the Indian railways! After a half hour of this, having done his duty, the official disappeared as noisily as he had arrived. While the compartment, almost simultaneously, erupted in giggles.

The day at home was relaxed and nice. Yes, nice. Too short. But nice. Yaay! And next day, very early morning, it was time to head back to the train, and to current reality.

So yeah, four days down the line, it seems very very hard to follow the three resolutions. But I, am determined to try. So, yaay to that.

Yaay! to the new year!

d:-).

Retro'esque'

2007-02-11T22:17:00.001+05:30

Hmm, just realised the previous video ain't working. But hey, I like the pop art-esque type colours, so the non-video cover stays. Instead, here is PD in a tres tres retro-esque type video thing. At least the music is good. The original is so much better than the latter remixes. So here goes.
p.s.: And yes,-esque suffixes the current mood. Almost.

Plastic Dreams

2007-02-08T00:29:00.001+05:30

After a loooong 14 hour work day and an all-nighter ahead (yeah whatever), the one and only thing to do is to crash headlong into music. Tonight's salvation lies in plastic dreams.

Close the eyes and listen to Jaydee, but brace for the abrupt bubrupt end. Yeah yeah, its been another one of those days. And before I descend into an expletive laden monologue, I just might reach out to the fridgy diggy, open the Bud and go glug glug. Turrah luv.

Whatever. F it!, A et al.

Neighbourhoods and joints

2007-01-26T23:28:00.000+05:30

Neighbourhoods and joints. Comfortini and sake and long dry nights. Thank God for friends who make one see the black and the white; and thank God for friends who drive one around in the middle of the night. Egging and egging, into the realm of practicality. Some of us do need that push. So here's to the past rollercoaster week, and for perspectives just barely balancing above the nadir. Yes, just barely.

Fingers crossed. After all homo sapiens are habitual creatures (some more than others).

Hair, there and everywhere

2007-01-11T20:55:00.000+05:30

"Are you growing your hair, or is it growing by default?"

Yes, believe it or not, someone ACTUALLY asked me this question today. Tough one eh?

..a new year cometh

2007-01-07T21:56:00.000+05:30

As the train sleepily chugged along, I amused myself by drinking umpteen cups of watered down tea provided by two marketing savvy railway tea porters, and clicking photos of the heavily foggy first day of 2007.

Oh the joys of winter...I lurrve lurrrve lurrrve it!

Small print: We'ell, I drank seven and one sip of the eighth cup actually (I gagged and couldn't drink any more of the eighth), but 'umpteen' sounded more poetic...

Big mouth

2006-12-27T23:36:00.000+05:30

Jibber jib, jibber jib
Somebody had gift of glib
Unrestrained urge for sound
Tongue running round and round
'What the F...?' said the brain
'Shut up, shut up, (sigh!), not again'
Brainless thoughts spurned and burnt
Hmmm...Might we hope a lesson learnt(?).

One week on

2006-12-25T13:14:00.000+05:30

Friday
Good ol' friends. Classical music, white urban undulating (urbane?) ceilings; fish fingers, cheese toast and fries, topped with sour cream, barbecue sauce and heavy discussions on gender, sexuality and the pseudo-intellectuals stampeding to save the world, a sobering whiff of little girls being rescued and the bleak-black-blank future ahead. "Can I help you? Thks, we're just looking. Thats okay, I'll stand here and stare at the money not yet oozing out of your asses." Cops in cahoots with pimps, unable to do naught but talk with uncontrollable tongues trying hard to make their way out of a satisfying haze of booze-induced fog. Winter is here and so is a session of adrenaline pumping, cardiac arresting Montenegro and Prague; a missing Q, a good bod, English accent and a fine debut. Running behind cars and running against time for lots of red wine and a warm blanket. Planning a house-warming for wide prayer-hall curtains; expats and one gay man. Good-night Musky. And the tally stands at:
2 Moo Woos
1 Baileys and Amaretto
1 Gin and Tonic
2 glasses of Red Wine.

Saturday
"How many drinks have you had?" The Mystery of the Missing Phone and Umpteen Unmade Phone Calls; a trafficked bell, small talk, fake comfort zone with lots of green spaces, a farm-house and a long taxi ride; an Azerbaijani with two trophy girls; a (plucky?) French lady alone at the bar, the bleakness of Moscow, postiche smiles and nodding heads, looking at nothing but two empty cigarette packets; a carpenter from Argentina, a masochist with two terraces; the night is still young. Oh, and the tally stands at:
4 glasses of Red Wine
3 Gin and Tonics.

Was it all worth it?

Tis the season to be jolly, tra la la la, la la la la..

Tally ho

2006-12-18T00:22:00.000+05:30

Friday:
1 Passion Sour
1 Mexican Cruise
1/2 Fosters
1 shot Sake

Saturday:
1 glass Red Wine
1-1/2 Death by Chocolate
1/2 Screaming Orgasm

Sunday:
2 glasses Red Wine
2 shots Honey Wine
1/2 shot Sake

Purrr...very nice.

p.s.: had got the image ages ago from somewhere on the net. Will be happy to give the correct ref., in case someone knows where/who has the rights for the piccie.

Blueberries and cream; peace, coffee and a croissant; the pleasure of writing; and friends

2006-11-21T22:14:00.000+05:30

Gosh...in between an extremely hectic and pretty stressed two weeks at work, some things to smile about which I never got a chance to pen down..

- Finally opened that bottle of 'blueberries and cream' shampoo which a colleague had gifted on my birthday months and months ago. I was given this, for its bluish-purple colour, but wait, unexpectedly, it has this beeeautiful aroma each time I open the bottle...like a fantastic smelling cake. And, each time I wash my hair, I feel fab! Thks S.

-I found a lead pencil, yes - using one after years, which is soo smooth it just glides across the page. Now each time I have to jot something down I keep the pens away and reach for the pencil.

-Enjoying a cup of coffee and croissant while reading the Sunday paper in a coffee shop which usually plays loud music, but this time somehow let us simply enjoy the peace with muted music in the background.

and a bonus one..

-Enjoying a sleepover at a friend's new house. Love the new house and how welcome I was made to feel. Random giggles over unpacking new wine glasses and having great vodca left over by 'our weekend friend' !! Lol J! And thanks, I am so glad you are back.

Sigh..I miss and I hope

2006-11-12T18:44:00.000+05:30

Yes, the realisation has hit with a small peck on the cheek, I do miss the old times (SIGH!). Nothing like a teaser to make one want the old familiar tastes...

I miss the back verandah of the raft on Kanchanaburi. That silence, the gentle rocking of the boat, and the sound of crickets...

Grrr....I wish I would could/would manage my time better...

Comfy cookies and a pat on the back

2006-10-24T18:59:00.000+05:30

Awrighty, so taking inspiration from Clare of TBT (I think she has started a revolution of sorts!), here is my list for today:

1.Pat on the back email from boss over a job well done.

2.Opening a new tin of scrumptious smelling (mmmmm.........) cookies and eating one of each flavour (apple and cinnamon finger, cocoa/strawberry jelly drop, apple and cinnamon wheel, oatmeal and raisin star, and orange country style)!

3.Wearing my pair of incredibly comfy brick red shoes to office.

The Beggar and The Tree

2006-10-07T23:07:00.000+05:30

Everyday when I pass this place by
I see a lone beggar lie
Underneath the lone tree
He has no bonds, he is free
His hand outstretched in front
Tells me the lesson he learnt
His clothes are tattered
His face is battered
Full of hope - and sadness
Enveloping him to madness
He waits for food - and hope
For the latter I see no scope
And when I came with food
I all alone there stood
But, the lone tree was there
I hadn't seen it with care
When my eyes fell on the beggar
My legs started to stagger
For he had gone to sleep
I had no time to weep
Neither to brood
I all alone there stood
The tree, it was but dried wood
That was all left of it
Bit by bit
It had finally become free
That distant lonely tree.

Yes, another one in continuation of the earlier Miracles. Was wondering where these two had gotten lost (yup, another two A4 size typed sheets!). This one was 'inspired', of all things, by a painting at the back of a Reader's Digest magazine. In those days RD used to have paintings or pictures on the back cover. A couple of years ago, with change of management I believe, RD changed that to the ever too too common advertisement/s on its covers. Thus losing one of the distinguishing features of the mag. My Dad had been an RD subscriber from the early 70s onwards - from even before I was born! And I loved the magazine, during my teens as well as later years. Back home during summer holidays was the time to sit with the whole year's stack and read through them. Haven't bothered to go through one for more than a year now, the change in magazine format was very disappointing. However, the management decided to stick to the new one with new features and advertisements galore every few pages, sadly reducing the Reader's Digest from being a highly readable 'book' to a one-of-many-out-there 'magazine'.

Favourites from Thailand

2006-09-14T21:15:00.000+05:30

Some of my favourite images from Thailand:

On the Kwae

This granny was the cutest internet cafe owner ever! Kanchanaburi

The corridor of the Sleeping Buddha temple in Bangkok

Love this 'dark' picture..catches the rainy season perfectly

Taxi in a thunderstorm, Bangkok

Sukhothai..classic

I liked this sentry at the Sleeping Buddha complex

(Others at Flickr on the side.)

Of mobiles and other instruments

2006-08-28T18:50:00.000+05:30

Yesterday's newspapers carried the headlines 'Amsterdam Detainees Return, Tell Their Side of The Story' and similar. While its nice to know that fellow countrymen are back safe and sound, I do wonder whether we missed-out reading between the lines. Since I was neither in Amsterdam nor on the plane, my thoughts are based totally on what the newspapers reported (or perchance 'did not'?). However, if the comments of some of the fellow passengers were correct - that the said group, or some of them anyway, refused to obey the airline stewards' requests to fasten seatbelts and turn off mobile phones; and kept exchanging places - hmm...is it just me I wonder who thinks this was unacceptable behaviour. Disregarding regulations, talking on mobile phones and generally being loud and discorteous to fellow passengers is not simply infuriatingly irritating but quite simply putting safety on the line. I doubt if this did in fact happen and if travelling on the same plane, whether I would not have complained myself (hmm..ya definitely..think I messed up the grammar in this sentence..).

That reminds me, on my last flight the teenager sitting next to me kept looking back at me with puzzled eyes when he caught me staring menacingly at him fiddling arond with his mobile and got me really irritated when instead of shutting it off he just turned around and attached some handsfree stuff and smugly put on his headphones. On being tapped on the shoulder with 'Shut off your phone if you don't mind' I was equally smugly informed that the 'phone' in fact was an 'mp3' player, and no, he would not turn it off!

Ladies compartment

2006-08-23T20:30:00.000+05:30

Yesterday was Day 1 of resolution: Pay more attention to 'surroundings'. Henceforth I hoped to not walk around in my zombielike trance looking either preoccupied/ not interested/ or simply looking 'through' everything (yes, phrase used by a week old colleague)....and unfortunately so true. No more walking with eyes looking on goings on inside the head as opposed to outside it. So anyway, the idea was to pay more attention to the world 'out there'.

The day getting off to a dodgy start should have given an inkling of things to happen, but at 5.00am I was too sleepy to notice. Getting up at half past four with just about a hour and a half of sleep inside me is never a good thing, especially so for a morning hater like myself. Consoling myself with the thought that I could sleep on the train, I got up, got dressed and was out just as the taxi pulled up. About half way to the station I realised that I in fact did not have my passport with me, and there I was going to get the passport sorted out. T y p i c a l. Taxi did an about turn and by the time I found the damn thing and the taxi rushed back to the station, the train had barely 5 minutes to go.

Safely landing in my compartment and subsequently in my seat, I was looking forward to a quiet five and a half hour journey and perhaps catching up on my sleep. (Oh by the way, have figured out how to read those old newspapers neatly piling up in a corner of the room, - take them on train journeys! Yes, I went through three days worth on my way back...) The seat next to me was occupied by a youngish-senior lady whose husband sat across the aisle and belched loudly every now and then. My turning in the general direction of the couple with a disgusted look every time it happened, didn't have any effect and after the first few times she even looked amused, so I stopped doing that and did my usual 'fuming silently' bit.

The compartment was only about half-full and everyone was in the back half, with the front of the compartment completely empty. A cute guy 'very French looking' sat in the seat in front of the seat in front of me and smiled back when I smiled at him while searching for my seat. Hmm...everything was okay with my world at 6.00am when, not so quietly, around nine (wannabe?) models trooped in. Complete with flowing tresses, 5'10"+ heights and miniscule waists, the ladies literally brought the compartment to a sit-still. A sudden pin-drop silence snugly and not so comfortabley enveloped the half-full compartment, and most gawked while pretending not to, while others gawked without pretence. For God's sake, (cheesy you might think, but I can't resist it->) out of all the compartments in all the bloody trains, they had to walk into mine! F!

Everyone looked while the girls sorted themselves out, stored their luggage and located their seats, all the while chattering away, fully aware of the impact they had had. Each time one of the girls walked down the aisle everyone looked at her in an almost shy manner. To be honest, besides being incredibly thin and tall, some were really quite pretty. Made a mental note to rush for the door as soon as the train stopped at the final destination and stand either waaaaay in front or waaaay behind 'the nine', - There was NO WAY I was going to be seen next to them!

A long sigh later I turned towards the window and looked at not the poetically rolling fields but at a stained blue curtain, something I had to do most of the way as the bloody rings were stuck.

Almost five and a half hours later it was amusing to see most of the half-full compartment rush for the door while the ladies were still sleepily waking up from their slumber. Is it that some of us had the same thot hanh hanh hanh??!

So much for paying attention to the surroundings. I think I shall go back inside my head.

Miracles (ahem...uncut)

2006-08-16T13:18:00.000+05:30

Scorching heat, blazing sun
Uncomfortable days
Sleepless nights
Heat
Unrelenting for days on end
Everyone hoping
And hoping
And suddenly
There is a rumble
Darkening of the sky
A flash of light
And
A few drops fall
Flowers unfurl
Faces soften
Cool air
All the uncomfort receeds to the back of the mind

Observing this small miracle
One of the endless miracles of time
Someone murmurs:
'God is so very kind'

Came across this one yellowing page while cleaning the files and files (and piles and piles) of paper in my room; oddly under the 'electricity complaints' section. Well, what can I say, (sigh) twas one of the few attempts at prose in my early teens. I even took the 'poem' to the neighbourhood typist/photocopywallah and paid him a forgotten sum from my pocketmoney (100 Rupee for pocketmoney in those days got you A LOT of stuff) to type this on an A4 size sheet of paper. Clutching these few sheets of paper on my way back home I fancied myself an author with the first manuscript of bigger things to come. Sigh..sadly I grew up!

This pretzel shell provides a soft, teeth-saving crunch.

2006-08-06T20:33:00.000+05:30

Shopping.

As I grow older I've noticed my shopping 'style' undergoing a drastic change. Instead of getting dressed up and spending hours leisurely looking through stuff (clothes, shoes, music, etc. etc.) - as was the norm earlier, I find myself rushing to shops wearing my most easy to take off t-shirt and grabbing things which I think I might like, rushing to the counter and getting outa there asap. The most irritating segment of this time frame is having to wait for what seems like hours outside the changing rooms and then finally when finding one empty, to discover that the size is either too too small (very often) or too big (sometimes) (of the clothes I mean, though it equally goes for the trial rooms), and then the whole putting on-taking off-putting on-taking off routine is somthing I dread. Especially since it is a never-ending process of 'trial and error' - literally. Once I start, I get into this loop of waiting for a vacant trial room: struggling to get the shirt or skirt over my chest or thighs as the case might be: struggling out of the clothes stuck midway: wearing own stuff back: scouting around for a bigger size: waiting for a vacant trial room.... At least I have gotten used to totally ignoring the skinny and annorexic women all around me looking for 'S'mall and 'XS-Extra small' sizes, while I stop the shop assistants and ask them: 'Do you have this in large'. I've also almost perfected this 'whatever stare' for assistants who respond with 'Madam I think you might wanna try an XL'. 'WHATEVER'!

So today's rushed trip got me: 2 kurtas (dark green, and brown), 1 parallel pajama sort of stuff (black), 1 hybrid bween a chunni and a scarf (black, bloody expensive, and I already love it! I plan to cut it and make it into a proper scarf), 2 tops (cream-fawnish, and purple); and 9 bras (yes I know I sort of panicked and went a bit overboard) - in black, black, black, black, light purple, white, cream, cream, maroon. I like the light purple one the bestest.

Then it was the turn for weekly groceries and hence and for sustenance this week I have a choice bween: 1.5 kg mangoes, 5 packets of maggi, 4 packets of random ready-to-eat veggies, 1 jar mixed pickle (for when the veggies run out), 1 jar pasta sauce (a sole jar of a brand called 'Tify' which was hidden way behind all the expensive Pregos. Tify was definitely more interesting), yoghurt and 1 packet of munchies called 'Pretzel Pete' described on the packet as 'All-Natural Pretzel Nuggets filled with creamy smooth peanut butter'. Not sure why I bought this since I don't even like peanut butter. It even has a detailed diagram on the back with arrows pointing to various parts of a nugget with random info - 'This pretzel shell provides a soft, teeth-saving crunch!' <- 'teeth saving crunch' hmmm, 'Creamy realy peanut butter is injected just before baking' <- wow! is that so!, 'Peanut butter nuggets are not overtly salted' <- ooookay.

And then, I bought a black coffee mug which I quite like. And it is now sitting snugly with my Flower Power mug, my London mug, my Purple Ronnie mug, and my free with Dominoes Pizza mug...nice, the family is growing.

Sigh. So, that was what I did most of the day today. Sigh.