last week in the mad rush of last minute gift buying,I dashed into a bookshop only to be stoped dead in my tracks thanks to the slipper giving way at the wrong time.One snap and I was stranded on the steps and up against a deadline.What did I do?....just two doors away was Metro shoes so I limped my way across,bought a pair for some 800 odd bucks(not even a pair that I would normally buy) and got back to bookstore with new shoes on and finished all my buying and didn't stop to think much.The broken pair of slippers were left behind in the shop.
A week later caught in peak traffic on mount road,I allowed myself the luxury of looking around at the world while I waited for the lights to change.On the pavement sat a dumpy woman and in front of her were a pair of men's shoes,a pair of boots and an elegant pair of high heeled shoes.She wasn't selling shoes,she was repairing them and then it struck me.I had discarded a pair of slippers without a thought and invested in a new pair.I didn't for a moment think of the possibility that it could be repaired and this is exactly what I would have done a few years ago.It was almost like oneupmanship on friends.All of us got our shoes resoled and redone at regular intervals and we had these shoes for years.Not for us the impulse buys or the throw aways,so what happened to all of us?.We got affluent,we got better pay and so called better lifestyles and in the process we forgot the small trills of life.The hunt for a cobbler near the scene of the broken shoe,the haggling over price of repair and the trill of getting our old shoe back.
The lights turned green and I had to go but at the back of my mind I wanted my broken slipper back,I want to locate a cobbler in that area and I want to stitch it back but alas that moment has passed and I have joined the ranks of the busy and the affluent and it takes a red traffic light for me to appreciate the small pleasures of life,but am I glad there is still some sensitivity left and some happy memories of friends and cobblers.
tea gardens
Friday, December 28, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
learning
I have had a lot of learning's this past week and suddenly I am pretty proud that I am still able to learn,still stay strangely innocent in a world where childhood,teens and adulthood are no longer separate stages in life or have each of them got shorter and seems that way.
For instance I went of work in Jeans.That was a first.Never done this but the world around me had changed dress code so what was I doing in my salwar kameeze?.Its pretty liberating to feel like one is back in college,and maybe somewhere my mind will do a flip back to some radical thinking like I did all those years ago.
I also discovered this new community of friends with benefits...for the uninitiated this is not about watching out for the gas man by friendly neighbours,its not about leaving your pet with friends while you holiday.This is simple,a relationship with no commitment,just sex on demand.I think that kind of sums it up.Interesting because by definition friends means commitment on way or the other so that didn't quiet ring true.Secondly these are communities of people who are perfectly sure of what they are getting into and most of them are pretty young(at least by my standards).They are all well aware that the heart may play to a different tune but they control their hearts so that's fine.It opened my eyes to the new age.I think this did exist in some form or the other in the hippie days but now its a norm among the young and restless.I marvel at their control over their hearts,their emotions.
I stop to wonder why for me those walks on the beach,roses and old fashioned chocolates,discussions on books and holidays and stuff like that was what I considered benefits.
I also learned to talk to people twenty years younger than me and stay connected.Its like starting over.I learned to lower my standards to suite the current situation,I am learning that peoples values have changed and while I don't have to change mine,I need to understand the change and deal with it.In between my black and white and grey world,there is a tinge of blue.Like I said I am getting a first hand lesson in emerging sociology and I am still discovering.Do I like what I see and hear?...well does it matter as long as I am aware of the changing world and lean to live in it.
For instance I went of work in Jeans.That was a first.Never done this but the world around me had changed dress code so what was I doing in my salwar kameeze?.Its pretty liberating to feel like one is back in college,and maybe somewhere my mind will do a flip back to some radical thinking like I did all those years ago.
I also discovered this new community of friends with benefits...for the uninitiated this is not about watching out for the gas man by friendly neighbours,its not about leaving your pet with friends while you holiday.This is simple,a relationship with no commitment,just sex on demand.I think that kind of sums it up.Interesting because by definition friends means commitment on way or the other so that didn't quiet ring true.Secondly these are communities of people who are perfectly sure of what they are getting into and most of them are pretty young(at least by my standards).They are all well aware that the heart may play to a different tune but they control their hearts so that's fine.It opened my eyes to the new age.I think this did exist in some form or the other in the hippie days but now its a norm among the young and restless.I marvel at their control over their hearts,their emotions.
I stop to wonder why for me those walks on the beach,roses and old fashioned chocolates,discussions on books and holidays and stuff like that was what I considered benefits.
I also learned to talk to people twenty years younger than me and stay connected.Its like starting over.I learned to lower my standards to suite the current situation,I am learning that peoples values have changed and while I don't have to change mine,I need to understand the change and deal with it.In between my black and white and grey world,there is a tinge of blue.Like I said I am getting a first hand lesson in emerging sociology and I am still discovering.Do I like what I see and hear?...well does it matter as long as I am aware of the changing world and lean to live in it.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
This too must pass
For me December is the cruelest month.Its the start of the end of the year,another ending as a prelude to yet another beginning.Mixed with happiness and sadness,both existing side by side.This December started like all others,except that that heavy sadness that envelopes me (despite the parties and the Christmas spirit) was missing.Its been too busy.
Well into the third week,and the sadness is all prevailing,news of loved ones passing on,the burden of having to break the news to old parents,the psychological handholding that needs to be done,its all taking its toll.I hope to wish it all away but its there,real stuff,cannot be avoided.The closer to Christmas and the sadness continues.
I have already attended two Christmas parties.Laughter,the spirit of Christmas good food and great friends,I enjoy myself,sing all the carols,laugh and enjoy myself and then it happens.This cloak of sadness deepens and wraps around me tighter.Its always there like a constant companion,despite the fun.
The Christmas tree is not up yet,after nine years,we want a new one.The annual Christmas party is still on the drawing board,despite friends telling me they are looking forward to it.Its the highlight of our year.It always has a friend from out of town and a few new people always but like all years the party will materialise at short notice.The apathy this year is killing.
A new job,meeting new people,new cities,travel,all this is what makes life interesting.It all that I wanted out of life and now its all here and I don't need it anymore.
This is a strange phase,its almost like being two people.One the party animal ready for any outing with friends,the other this brooding person.
Like some thick thunderclouds that clear suddenly to expose bright sunshine,I wait....black clouds always pass and this too shall pass.
Well into the third week,and the sadness is all prevailing,news of loved ones passing on,the burden of having to break the news to old parents,the psychological handholding that needs to be done,its all taking its toll.I hope to wish it all away but its there,real stuff,cannot be avoided.The closer to Christmas and the sadness continues.
I have already attended two Christmas parties.Laughter,the spirit of Christmas good food and great friends,I enjoy myself,sing all the carols,laugh and enjoy myself and then it happens.This cloak of sadness deepens and wraps around me tighter.Its always there like a constant companion,despite the fun.
The Christmas tree is not up yet,after nine years,we want a new one.The annual Christmas party is still on the drawing board,despite friends telling me they are looking forward to it.Its the highlight of our year.It always has a friend from out of town and a few new people always but like all years the party will materialise at short notice.The apathy this year is killing.
A new job,meeting new people,new cities,travel,all this is what makes life interesting.It all that I wanted out of life and now its all here and I don't need it anymore.
This is a strange phase,its almost like being two people.One the party animal ready for any outing with friends,the other this brooding person.
Like some thick thunderclouds that clear suddenly to expose bright sunshine,I wait....black clouds always pass and this too shall pass.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Womens best friend
In the last week I have had an overdose of rottweiler love.Like lady Macbeth I have had to wash my face and hands at regular intervals thanks to some lavish licking from a few over enthusiastic rottweilers.
My first reaction to being introduced to one of them was to run ten miles in the opposite direction.Here I was faced with the dogs from omen and from Hitlers SS forces and was I expected to be trilled.Most certainly not.To begin with they weigh some hundred pounds and look rather scary,but when they get to be friendly they are a class apart.My first encounter was a timid one.While my friend held tightly to the leash I tried patting the dog .At the first sign of a positive,reaction,I decided to be friends.Not sure if this was a good thing.For the next few hours I had to run and play hide and seek and get thrown over until in sheer exhaustion I had to call for a stop.Four years later I met the dog again.This time she was ill and her energy was not what it was.Long hours of talking didn't get much of a response so I sat her down and talked and tried to play but all she wanted was a bit of attention.She stayed for hours by my side and her liquid brown eyes conveyed a thousand unsaid things.I left the house wondering if i would see her again as the energy ball that she was.Didn't have the heart to say goodbye so left it at that.
Yesterday,I was introduced to two more of the same breed.One was a year old and she had made some unsuccessful attempts to get into my car and having failed to do so she settled for being a long lost friend.Unfortunately when a hundred pound animal throws itself at one its not easy to keep the balance.She was almost as tall as me and decided that two paws on shoulder was a good licking position.So there I was being greeted with a lot of doggy saliva.
The other dog was six months old and was far more interested in the happenings on the road though she loved all the attention.They have promised to come home for tea.
My first reaction to being introduced to one of them was to run ten miles in the opposite direction.Here I was faced with the dogs from omen and from Hitlers SS forces and was I expected to be trilled.Most certainly not.To begin with they weigh some hundred pounds and look rather scary,but when they get to be friendly they are a class apart.My first encounter was a timid one.While my friend held tightly to the leash I tried patting the dog .At the first sign of a positive,reaction,I decided to be friends.Not sure if this was a good thing.For the next few hours I had to run and play hide and seek and get thrown over until in sheer exhaustion I had to call for a stop.Four years later I met the dog again.This time she was ill and her energy was not what it was.Long hours of talking didn't get much of a response so I sat her down and talked and tried to play but all she wanted was a bit of attention.She stayed for hours by my side and her liquid brown eyes conveyed a thousand unsaid things.I left the house wondering if i would see her again as the energy ball that she was.Didn't have the heart to say goodbye so left it at that.
Yesterday,I was introduced to two more of the same breed.One was a year old and she had made some unsuccessful attempts to get into my car and having failed to do so she settled for being a long lost friend.Unfortunately when a hundred pound animal throws itself at one its not easy to keep the balance.She was almost as tall as me and decided that two paws on shoulder was a good licking position.So there I was being greeted with a lot of doggy saliva.
The other dog was six months old and was far more interested in the happenings on the road though she loved all the attention.They have promised to come home for tea.
Not everyone can understand my fascination with the rottweiler.From their unsavory reputation to being guard dogs,to killer dogs,they are probably the most misunderstood breed.The average Rottweiler like a lot of people is a loving and socialised dog provided the family that owns it instill the right values in the dog.All three that I know come from families that give them a lot of love and time and take them for walks and actually introduce them to their friends.Non of them are tied up because there are guest in the house.We had to get used to them and I for one hope to get a pup the moment I decide to stay at home full time.These original german dogs are as reliable as any peice of german technology that one can get today so for me it will always be a rottweiler
Monday, December 10, 2007
Weekend at sword hill
Valparai-sword rock as the literal translation would go is a small place up in the Annamalai range.As the name suggests this is an elephant hill and was the migratory path of the elephant into the forest.
By road this is a 13 km drive from Chennai and thanks to some excellent roads the drive is an absolute pleasure provided one can get away early morning well before city traffic can get to one.The smart way to get there is to take a train to Coimbatore and drive up the ghat sections with its 40 hairpin bends and take in the breathtaking view of the Aliya dam,which glistens in the afternoon sun and is a sight that cannot be described with words.
The estate we are heading to is close to a place called rotikadai which means bread shop and a bit of investigation into local folklore says that the British set up a bakery in the town to teach the locals to make bread as there was no bakery around in that place.They then named it rotikadai in Tamil and it continues to remain so long after the bakery has given way to tea shops.
The estate is everything that we want from a weekend getaway.The moment we arrive tea is served.Is it our imagination or is there something to be said for tea being drunk against the backdrop of tea gardens where the fresh green tea bushes form a thick carpet for miles on end.We sip tea in lovely china cups which shows up the colour of the brew to advantage.Thin egg sandwiches complete the picture of a land in time wrap.This is a throwback on the British raj and time stands still in this place.There is even a butler service at the house.
There is a lot to explore in this rambling home with its lush lawn and its stone garden seats that are meant for garden parties.The house is surrounded by vegetable gardens,flower gardens and the traditional Christmas trees that stand like sentinels to the house.An old swing is a great place to relive a childhood pastime.Like all estate home this also has a well stocked library with enough books to keep one occupied for months.
Saturday night the start of the season brings with it the Christmas spirit.Families from around estates meet at the club and enjoy a good evening sharing notes on the weeks happenings.Everyone has a well defines role and the wives share notes on children and home while the men drink their brandies and share whatever it is that they share.
Most of the homes in this region are made of stone or wood and as there are few people to occupy these once busy homes the estate wives have taken it upon themselves to convert this into an opportunity for Eco tourism.They open their doors to people travelling through or looking for a place to stay.Home cooked meals complete the experience
We come back home with our heads filled with stories of elephants and their habits.While us city folk worry about a rat or two in our kitchens,the estate folk of the elephant range worry about the wild beasts who have developed a taste for home cooked food and are busy checking out whats cooking in the estate kitchens.
When its time for us to leave we realise that we are relaxed beyond measure and we haven't missed our morning newspaper or the cell phone or the tv and life has been blissful
By road this is a 13 km drive from Chennai and thanks to some excellent roads the drive is an absolute pleasure provided one can get away early morning well before city traffic can get to one.The smart way to get there is to take a train to Coimbatore and drive up the ghat sections with its 40 hairpin bends and take in the breathtaking view of the Aliya dam,which glistens in the afternoon sun and is a sight that cannot be described with words.
The estate we are heading to is close to a place called rotikadai which means bread shop and a bit of investigation into local folklore says that the British set up a bakery in the town to teach the locals to make bread as there was no bakery around in that place.They then named it rotikadai in Tamil and it continues to remain so long after the bakery has given way to tea shops.
The estate is everything that we want from a weekend getaway.The moment we arrive tea is served.Is it our imagination or is there something to be said for tea being drunk against the backdrop of tea gardens where the fresh green tea bushes form a thick carpet for miles on end.We sip tea in lovely china cups which shows up the colour of the brew to advantage.Thin egg sandwiches complete the picture of a land in time wrap.This is a throwback on the British raj and time stands still in this place.There is even a butler service at the house.
There is a lot to explore in this rambling home with its lush lawn and its stone garden seats that are meant for garden parties.The house is surrounded by vegetable gardens,flower gardens and the traditional Christmas trees that stand like sentinels to the house.An old swing is a great place to relive a childhood pastime.Like all estate home this also has a well stocked library with enough books to keep one occupied for months.
Saturday night the start of the season brings with it the Christmas spirit.Families from around estates meet at the club and enjoy a good evening sharing notes on the weeks happenings.Everyone has a well defines role and the wives share notes on children and home while the men drink their brandies and share whatever it is that they share.
Most of the homes in this region are made of stone or wood and as there are few people to occupy these once busy homes the estate wives have taken it upon themselves to convert this into an opportunity for Eco tourism.They open their doors to people travelling through or looking for a place to stay.Home cooked meals complete the experience
We come back home with our heads filled with stories of elephants and their habits.While us city folk worry about a rat or two in our kitchens,the estate folk of the elephant range worry about the wild beasts who have developed a taste for home cooked food and are busy checking out whats cooking in the estate kitchens.
When its time for us to leave we realise that we are relaxed beyond measure and we haven't missed our morning newspaper or the cell phone or the tv and life has been blissful
Friday, November 30, 2007
news all around
Am reading an average of four newspapers a day along with magazines and a few books and with the entry of a data card into my life one more activity gets added....blogging.
The Tv has been monopolised by the husband.Back after routine tour and the "I am missing home"thingy,he picks up the remote like long lost wife and is back to watching tv.So silly wife asks silly question...."do you love me or the Tv"....after being married for as long as we have one must say that was asking for trouble.
So here we are, one engrossed in movie and one busy reading all that one can get.Its a perfect partnership.
The Tv has been monopolised by the husband.Back after routine tour and the "I am missing home"thingy,he picks up the remote like long lost wife and is back to watching tv.So silly wife asks silly question...."do you love me or the Tv"....after being married for as long as we have one must say that was asking for trouble.
So here we are, one engrossed in movie and one busy reading all that one can get.Its a perfect partnership.
Getting back to my newspapers,I am now an expert on why Madhuri Dixit is back in the movies,what its like to be a star at 40 in an industry that doesn't accept age among women.I aware of Sanjay Dutts homecoming,his private jet and his forthcoming movies.I know that Britney Spears is throwing a lavish Christmas party.....hey wait a minute,I am reading serious news.This is my daily diet and call me fluffy but looks like half the world or at least half of India is reading this stuff and loving it.
The outcome of all this is that I plan to see Om Shanti Om very soon(even though I wont understand a word of the movie,not knowing the language),after which its all the other Hindi movies and I shall be updated on most things that matter to India.For the rest of the time I am off to watch BBC news(news the way I knew it) and as for entertainment,hey....that's what newspapers are for.
want to break free
I want to break free.....that song was one of my favourites but its meaning struck just a few years or months ago.Brought up on a regime of being steady in a job(meaning a government job was the best one to have)keeping the faith and rising slowly but surely etc meant that job hopping was not for me.For a long time this value system helped and sustained.Then all of a sudden the industry opened up and hey there were jobs a plenty.
Somewhere there was a reckless me,dormant for years and in need to break free,so when the bug bit it was time for action.One calculated risk(in retrospect only) and there I was in anew job which by any stretch of imagination was a hard one to crack but it came with a lot of perks.Freedom to do ones own thinking (big plus),freedom to work in ones own style and a chance to meet all kinds of people and be up against all kinds of situations.The like life always is,thing settle down and routine sets in.So what does one do.You guess it,look around ....
The thing with adventure is that its a catching habit,so here I am again in yet another reckless move and having fun at it.Freedom to act,to be to wonder and to do....then what?I am getting the hang of this,next step hitchhike to some far off place...who knows what comes at the next corner
Somewhere there was a reckless me,dormant for years and in need to break free,so when the bug bit it was time for action.One calculated risk(in retrospect only) and there I was in anew job which by any stretch of imagination was a hard one to crack but it came with a lot of perks.Freedom to do ones own thinking (big plus),freedom to work in ones own style and a chance to meet all kinds of people and be up against all kinds of situations.The like life always is,thing settle down and routine sets in.So what does one do.You guess it,look around ....
The thing with adventure is that its a catching habit,so here I am again in yet another reckless move and having fun at it.Freedom to act,to be to wonder and to do....then what?I am getting the hang of this,next step hitchhike to some far off place...who knows what comes at the next corner
Thursday, November 29, 2007
hot buttered toast and chutney
In the mad rush of peak hour traffic,I happened for a split second to look to my right and it set off a series of memories.It instantly brought to mind hot buttered toast and tomato chutney.A not so common combination but thats the memory attached to that place.
Its a set of government quarters set in a sprawling estate on haddows road.My elder sister had a friend who lived there and as I was a constant appendage to the elder sister,there I was visiting.As a child I loved these outings,for the simple reason that I always had a hungry look and most people would bring out a snack or two when I was around.I loved the tangy chutney which always showed up and in the mango season there was always juicy mangoes.
The reason for being in that house is really far more interesting.Like always one memory led to another.
Our school always had a Christmas play and my role was always that of one of the three kings or of some Chinese merchant from far away land,(thanks to having slit eyes)so a lot of rehearsals and make up had to be done and being children the teachers insisted we be there the whole day.It was my sisters responsibility to escort me to all this and as she was in a college close to the venue she had to make sure I got to the place on time and was looked after and not left alone otherwiseso.
My sister obviously had other plans and babysitting was not one of them so instead of taking me to rehearsals,she took me to college,got a group of her friends together and they plotted and planned as to what they were to do with me.One of the girls suggested they smuggle me into the literature class for a lecture.So there I was being warned of dire consequences by a bunch of college girls and given strict instructions not to make a noise and not to ask any questions(like I knew what to ask).
The class went off well,being rather small the lecturer didn't notice me in the backbench until almost to then end and the girls were ready for that.A sob story about how the poor child mother was ill and they had no choice but to get me there was all said and accepted.Of course after that everyone and her aunt wanted to give me sweets and chocolates so I wasn't complaining.When we were through with class one of the girls decided to take me home which is how the toast and chutney happened.
I continues to visit that girl as the house had loads of play areas and her mother always had interesting food.My home was always well stocked but the grass like they say is always greener on the other side.
The years spent being appendage to elder sister were always eventful and fun and long forgotten memories crop up at odd times like they did today because for me Madras is full of memories and every corner tells a story.
Its a set of government quarters set in a sprawling estate on haddows road.My elder sister had a friend who lived there and as I was a constant appendage to the elder sister,there I was visiting.As a child I loved these outings,for the simple reason that I always had a hungry look and most people would bring out a snack or two when I was around.I loved the tangy chutney which always showed up and in the mango season there was always juicy mangoes.
The reason for being in that house is really far more interesting.Like always one memory led to another.
Our school always had a Christmas play and my role was always that of one of the three kings or of some Chinese merchant from far away land,(thanks to having slit eyes)so a lot of rehearsals and make up had to be done and being children the teachers insisted we be there the whole day.It was my sisters responsibility to escort me to all this and as she was in a college close to the venue she had to make sure I got to the place on time and was looked after and not left alone otherwiseso.
My sister obviously had other plans and babysitting was not one of them so instead of taking me to rehearsals,she took me to college,got a group of her friends together and they plotted and planned as to what they were to do with me.One of the girls suggested they smuggle me into the literature class for a lecture.So there I was being warned of dire consequences by a bunch of college girls and given strict instructions not to make a noise and not to ask any questions(like I knew what to ask).
The class went off well,being rather small the lecturer didn't notice me in the backbench until almost to then end and the girls were ready for that.A sob story about how the poor child mother was ill and they had no choice but to get me there was all said and accepted.Of course after that everyone and her aunt wanted to give me sweets and chocolates so I wasn't complaining.When we were through with class one of the girls decided to take me home which is how the toast and chutney happened.
I continues to visit that girl as the house had loads of play areas and her mother always had interesting food.My home was always well stocked but the grass like they say is always greener on the other side.
The years spent being appendage to elder sister were always eventful and fun and long forgotten memories crop up at odd times like they did today because for me Madras is full of memories and every corner tells a story.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Tech,tech n me
Fingers fly over keyboards and messages fly off mobile phones,all around me there is talk of orkut or face book,recently I got an invite to juice.What on earth would that mean.A lot of people assume I know all this,strange,to me juice is just that and I would want to know what kind as in apple,orange etc.But for now its a social site where you meet and make friends.Surprise again.Most of my friends I have know for twenty odd years,or atleast for ten so why would I need to know a faceless friend,so much for face book I must add.I am not dying to make friends,nor am I dying to have half the world and his uncle know all about me.What happened to good old privacy.
Technology is great,I have used it to connect with people,gets things done which I couldn't have otherwise but it scares me because I cant get a grip on it.For me it takes time and I am constantly told that there is no time.Yesterday I was told by a group of friends that its just a matter of time before social networks catch up with us,very much like the mobile phone.Its useful and fine but I still resent the fact that I am traceable everywhere,I resent the fact that people think its fine to call at all hours.Of course I choose not to take calls but that's a different issue altogether.
Everyday i get a lesson on how to use technology,my husband is trying to teach me and is in the process,finding the teacher within him.He is also finding the patience to teach someone of such little techie intelligence and I hope one day soon I learn to use technology like I was to the manor born.
Technology is great,I have used it to connect with people,gets things done which I couldn't have otherwise but it scares me because I cant get a grip on it.For me it takes time and I am constantly told that there is no time.Yesterday I was told by a group of friends that its just a matter of time before social networks catch up with us,very much like the mobile phone.Its useful and fine but I still resent the fact that I am traceable everywhere,I resent the fact that people think its fine to call at all hours.Of course I choose not to take calls but that's a different issue altogether.
Everyday i get a lesson on how to use technology,my husband is trying to teach me and is in the process,finding the teacher within him.He is also finding the patience to teach someone of such little techie intelligence and I hope one day soon I learn to use technology like I was to the manor born.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Rememberance day
Today was Armistice day,and to those like me who have no clue what its all about,well it the remembrance day of the end of world war 1 and its a day to remember the many brave men and women who fought for freedom and justice.
When I walked into the St Marys church today for service,I wondered if there had been a bomb blast as the place was full of uniformed men and women.The church itself wore a festive look and we had a special service which was attended by the top brass of the army,navy,air force and many other bodies along with war veterans.Everyone was turned out in full uniform with medals and things pinned on uniform.All the services has large wreaths that were place at the alter and it was a solemn moment when the armed forces walked up to the alter.The service itself was a fall back on the old days of the war and it was appropriate that it was being held in a church that is 375 years old and has history seeping out of its walls.
After the first hymn the bugles sounded the last post rendered by ceremonial guard followed by another piece.The moment can send a shiver down ones spine and I can imagine the feeling for those who actually went to war and were in the trenches.
All of us were given a poppy each as this is a symbol of remembrance day,and represents the killing fields that wars create.
When I prayed that we should have an interesting service I didn't expect this but was glad I was there in a Church created by the East India Company,a piece of history that remains in our city despite most other things being replaced by glass monstrosities
When I walked into the St Marys church today for service,I wondered if there had been a bomb blast as the place was full of uniformed men and women.The church itself wore a festive look and we had a special service which was attended by the top brass of the army,navy,air force and many other bodies along with war veterans.Everyone was turned out in full uniform with medals and things pinned on uniform.All the services has large wreaths that were place at the alter and it was a solemn moment when the armed forces walked up to the alter.The service itself was a fall back on the old days of the war and it was appropriate that it was being held in a church that is 375 years old and has history seeping out of its walls.
After the first hymn the bugles sounded the last post rendered by ceremonial guard followed by another piece.The moment can send a shiver down ones spine and I can imagine the feeling for those who actually went to war and were in the trenches.
All of us were given a poppy each as this is a symbol of remembrance day,and represents the killing fields that wars create.
When I prayed that we should have an interesting service I didn't expect this but was glad I was there in a Church created by the East India Company,a piece of history that remains in our city despite most other things being replaced by glass monstrosities
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
where has all the silence gone
Yesterday I stood for fifteen minutes trying to cross the road near my house.The traffic wouldn't stop and I am not surprised as it was the festival season,but this is a road in a residential area where I have lived for some thirty odd years.
My mind went back to the time we had arrived at this part of madras.My dad had paid the advance for a house here and my mom and I had come to check it out.In this very same street which was deserted at that time,with not a soul in sight.It was a road dotted on either side by quaint houses with gardens.My mother took one look at the house and burst into tears.She had hoped to move into a nice house with bright colours and a modern look but here we were in an independent house that looked in need of care with an overgrown garden.Tears of rage and frustration and many a fight with my dad later we had no choice but to move in.Over a period of time she made friends with the neighbours,brightened up our environment like only my mother can do,adopted a dog and cleaned up the garden/We lived there for years and had some happy times,I finished my school years from that house and had many happy holidays with my friends coming over,We roamed the streets around the house playing on the road and meeting people.
All this ran through my mind as i stood there on the same street trying to cross the road.The housed have given way to high rise buildings,the road has become chocked with traffic,the old neighbours have all sold out to upcoming builders and long since gone,the real estate prices have skyrocketed and the once quiet street had become impossible to cross.I finally cross the road and check out the other roads,Almost all of them have met with the same fate.I came back to live in this area because of the peace and quiet and wisely choose a street that is so narrow that it can never become a big traffic road.The only remains of my childhood are the grocery shop owned by a boy who went to school with me and I continue to shop at this place despite all the new ones that have mushroomed around.Everything else changes every day and i have to wonder what will this place be like five years from now.
This area of madras however will always be home and despite all the congestion we are lucky to have four parks around our home and plenty of greenery.I walk around and count my blessings and stop to smell the roses.
My mind went back to the time we had arrived at this part of madras.My dad had paid the advance for a house here and my mom and I had come to check it out.In this very same street which was deserted at that time,with not a soul in sight.It was a road dotted on either side by quaint houses with gardens.My mother took one look at the house and burst into tears.She had hoped to move into a nice house with bright colours and a modern look but here we were in an independent house that looked in need of care with an overgrown garden.Tears of rage and frustration and many a fight with my dad later we had no choice but to move in.Over a period of time she made friends with the neighbours,brightened up our environment like only my mother can do,adopted a dog and cleaned up the garden/We lived there for years and had some happy times,I finished my school years from that house and had many happy holidays with my friends coming over,We roamed the streets around the house playing on the road and meeting people.
All this ran through my mind as i stood there on the same street trying to cross the road.The housed have given way to high rise buildings,the road has become chocked with traffic,the old neighbours have all sold out to upcoming builders and long since gone,the real estate prices have skyrocketed and the once quiet street had become impossible to cross.I finally cross the road and check out the other roads,Almost all of them have met with the same fate.I came back to live in this area because of the peace and quiet and wisely choose a street that is so narrow that it can never become a big traffic road.The only remains of my childhood are the grocery shop owned by a boy who went to school with me and I continue to shop at this place despite all the new ones that have mushroomed around.Everything else changes every day and i have to wonder what will this place be like five years from now.
This area of madras however will always be home and despite all the congestion we are lucky to have four parks around our home and plenty of greenery.I walk around and count my blessings and stop to smell the roses.
Monday, November 05, 2007
call and you will not get an answer
Right now I need to speak to the bank about an investment,I need to talk to the telephone people about a bad connection and to the mobile service provider about a wrong bill,but I am still wondering how to go about it.You see I am allergic to call centres and everyone today seems to have one.My experiences have always been about waiting for quiet a while listening to some repetitive music or to a recorded voice telling me that I am an important customer....why do they treat me like this if I really was one is beyond me.Also if I am important then so are all the others who call.I thought being important was exclusive but guess I am wrong.
If it not about waiting then some disembodied voice will give me instructions on the phone which will take through many a menu and many a number later to arrive at the same place,talking to a human being.
So I finally arrive at this human voice but couldn't figure out why they never had solutions to my simple requests.Why couldn't they check out some things for me,why did I need to call another number or wait for a week or send an email.In desperation I checked with some folks who work at a call centre and realised that its all about a script.Its a dummy job,which tells you what answers to give for what question and if its not asked in the same sequence then the human being on the other side is not authorised to answer(read not allowed to use brains,reasoning etc,assuming that they are in possession of these talents)So typically dumb American way of operating and getting paid for it.I am a little ashamed to call an American a dummy anymore after my call centre experience.Out outsourcing industry is all about the American way of life and that means we are glorified script readers.Is this what is driving our economy.I shudder to think of whats going to happen to this country in a few years.In the meanwhile I am still wondering what to do about my problems.Call a call centre stupid....thats how it works!!!
If it not about waiting then some disembodied voice will give me instructions on the phone which will take through many a menu and many a number later to arrive at the same place,talking to a human being.
So I finally arrive at this human voice but couldn't figure out why they never had solutions to my simple requests.Why couldn't they check out some things for me,why did I need to call another number or wait for a week or send an email.In desperation I checked with some folks who work at a call centre and realised that its all about a script.Its a dummy job,which tells you what answers to give for what question and if its not asked in the same sequence then the human being on the other side is not authorised to answer(read not allowed to use brains,reasoning etc,assuming that they are in possession of these talents)So typically dumb American way of operating and getting paid for it.I am a little ashamed to call an American a dummy anymore after my call centre experience.Out outsourcing industry is all about the American way of life and that means we are glorified script readers.Is this what is driving our economy.I shudder to think of whats going to happen to this country in a few years.In the meanwhile I am still wondering what to do about my problems.Call a call centre stupid....thats how it works!!!
news not for use
There is an emergency in Pakistan and I hear about it on BBC news.Considering they are our neighbours I presumed that the news media in India would be clamouring to cover the news but the moment the emergency was announced,I switched to the Indian News channels.To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.To say I was expecting it would be a half truth.The point is that all the news channels I turned to were either covering cricket or bollywood.So I ask myself what do news channels do.Unfortunately they don't cover news in the typical sense.Its all bout entertainment and even the news reporters are entertainers.How else would one describe the average news reporter (who is clearly wet behind the ears)who believes in yelling out the news in high pitch,besides badgering the victim(i use that word for that's what it is) like they are the law,government et al.I am surprised at the emotional way in which questions are put forth.News reporting is about being dispassionate,it is about being objective and about reporting the facts.Its not about ones personal opinions so why are so many TV journalists (including may I add,senior ones) so hell bent on bringing their personalities and beliefs on to the news.Unfortunately if one wants objectivity it still the BBC for me.Will someone please rename new channels in India as niche channels that focus on cricket and bollywood.If that's what sells I have no issues with it but lets stop pretending that this is news.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Dressing for who
Why do women spend hours over what to wear,how to look etc.Do they dress for comfort or do they dress to please others or is there something like dressing for oneself.I for one dress for comfort,to feel confident and yes to feel good about my self.If others approve so be it.Sometimes we dress for the occasion.All in all the decision takes some considering.
I wonder why women in Islamic countries dress up.In most of the middle east one will find that women spend money on designer wear and the best of cosmetics and all for what.They are well covered with only their eyes showing so why bother.Frankly I would love to dress like them.What bliss to be able to throw on a t shirt and shorts and the bhurka and ready to go.Who is to know.
This afternoon the discussion was on the same subject.Some of the women felt that it was a waste of time to spend so much time and effort when no one could see what one was wearing.The other woman thought that they were making an effort to look good for their husbands after all that was accepted.As usual I wondered aloud if they had ever stop to think that these women loved beautiful things and liked to look beautiful for that simple fact.They were dressing for themselves,they were being who they were and not what someone wanted them to be.The shocked looks that the well healed women threw in my direction was a sight to see.It never occurred to them that it was possible to dress for oneself.Prejudice I thought,here we were educated women so caught up in the media brainwashing of how women in Islamic countries are kept in the shadows and not allowed to express themselves.Here was a classic example of uncovered women who could only think of pleasing their husbands or society and on the other hand were the covered women just being themselves.So who is liberated I wonder.Ponder the thought
I wonder why women in Islamic countries dress up.In most of the middle east one will find that women spend money on designer wear and the best of cosmetics and all for what.They are well covered with only their eyes showing so why bother.Frankly I would love to dress like them.What bliss to be able to throw on a t shirt and shorts and the bhurka and ready to go.Who is to know.
This afternoon the discussion was on the same subject.Some of the women felt that it was a waste of time to spend so much time and effort when no one could see what one was wearing.The other woman thought that they were making an effort to look good for their husbands after all that was accepted.As usual I wondered aloud if they had ever stop to think that these women loved beautiful things and liked to look beautiful for that simple fact.They were dressing for themselves,they were being who they were and not what someone wanted them to be.The shocked looks that the well healed women threw in my direction was a sight to see.It never occurred to them that it was possible to dress for oneself.Prejudice I thought,here we were educated women so caught up in the media brainwashing of how women in Islamic countries are kept in the shadows and not allowed to express themselves.Here was a classic example of uncovered women who could only think of pleasing their husbands or society and on the other hand were the covered women just being themselves.So who is liberated I wonder.Ponder the thought
society calls
There are days that one simply don't want to know about and then there are days that are special.This morning was one of those days I wasn't looking forward to,it involved one society lunch and one radio interview,both of which I wasn't very happy about but agreed to in some state of fun which I quickly regretted.Not being able to get out of it I agreed to make the best of a bad situation.
All decked out in some decent clothes I went for lunch,arriving on time.....wrong decision,women especially the social butterfly types..are expected to come in fashionably late( so ok that should read as at least thirty minutes late).First lesson learnt.So I find myself a nice corner with women that looked like they wouldn't make conversation so there I was watching everyone come in.Much kissing and hugging later I find a few women that I do know and chat them up.
The show begins with a fashion show,jewellery is supposed to get all women excited (not this one) but the photographers were so busy one couldn't really see much,so after a while we troop for lunch.
The interesting part of all this was that we were in a room full of women with money and so called class,women who are the who's who of the city including people like me who get invited because someone thinks I am a somebody and the whole objective of the lunch is to get us to spend some money.Well I walked over to the sale section and was surprised to find that the actual buying was being done by two Muslim women covered from head to toe in the bhurka and wonder of wonders the bhurka was full of bling.Talk of fashion transcending all barriers.
All decked out in some decent clothes I went for lunch,arriving on time.....wrong decision,women especially the social butterfly types..are expected to come in fashionably late( so ok that should read as at least thirty minutes late).First lesson learnt.So I find myself a nice corner with women that looked like they wouldn't make conversation so there I was watching everyone come in.Much kissing and hugging later I find a few women that I do know and chat them up.
The show begins with a fashion show,jewellery is supposed to get all women excited (not this one) but the photographers were so busy one couldn't really see much,so after a while we troop for lunch.
The interesting part of all this was that we were in a room full of women with money and so called class,women who are the who's who of the city including people like me who get invited because someone thinks I am a somebody and the whole objective of the lunch is to get us to spend some money.Well I walked over to the sale section and was surprised to find that the actual buying was being done by two Muslim women covered from head to toe in the bhurka and wonder of wonders the bhurka was full of bling.Talk of fashion transcending all barriers.
Monday, October 29, 2007
In limbo
Today I am in that wonderful state of having to do nothing and if that's not enough the weather gods have smiled too so its a beautiful day.In between jobs is a good place to be except for the danger of getting used to it.Not such a bad thing I think,especially if it makes me happy,but for how long says my inner soul.Perhaps there are things to be done yes but for now I am happy to shop garden and cook.
Somehow job hopping is not what I do nor is it something I endorse but the world changed suddenly and so did perceptions.If one was in a job for a long time like I was,it was considered a virtue sometime back.It spelled commitment,loyalty and career mindedness.When the economy changed,the situations changed and job opportunities were a dime a dozen.Suddenly those virtues of yesteryear's were no longer of any value and job hopping became the norm.Along with this change came a certain cynicism.People move faster,get more money and live so called better lives but do they learn anything on the way,are we creating a future that's dominated by Google dependent people who have no passion or imagination.I don't really care anymore,changing the world is no long an option.Letting go is so blissful,it means I just need to work on my terms and throw it all up if the situation doesn't suit me.Everyone thinks being a woman make it easier to chuck up a job.I don't agree,its a mind game,its about being ambitious about ones personal life,its about wanting to do things that one cant do when one is too busy making money that one has no time to spend.
Oh yes its time to check out some plants,buy a birthday gift and catch up for tea with a friend and there one to some rest.The job market can wait.
Somehow job hopping is not what I do nor is it something I endorse but the world changed suddenly and so did perceptions.If one was in a job for a long time like I was,it was considered a virtue sometime back.It spelled commitment,loyalty and career mindedness.When the economy changed,the situations changed and job opportunities were a dime a dozen.Suddenly those virtues of yesteryear's were no longer of any value and job hopping became the norm.Along with this change came a certain cynicism.People move faster,get more money and live so called better lives but do they learn anything on the way,are we creating a future that's dominated by Google dependent people who have no passion or imagination.I don't really care anymore,changing the world is no long an option.Letting go is so blissful,it means I just need to work on my terms and throw it all up if the situation doesn't suit me.Everyone thinks being a woman make it easier to chuck up a job.I don't agree,its a mind game,its about being ambitious about ones personal life,its about wanting to do things that one cant do when one is too busy making money that one has no time to spend.
Oh yes its time to check out some plants,buy a birthday gift and catch up for tea with a friend and there one to some rest.The job market can wait.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Unhurried life in Chennai
Today was one of those days when I had to take a photocopy,send out a courier and it had to be done this morning.Most often these days I get the office boy to do these things and one has forgotten what its like to go to the small out of the way places and get it done.
At around 9.30 am I set off believing it was a decent enough hour to get this work done.My angst starts with two auto drivers hurling abuses at me for putting the wrong indicator.Yes I wanted to turn right but as there was no parking I decided to turn left.Sandwiched as I was between two autos,they decided that as a woman driver I probably had no clue which was right or left.Jokes aside,this was a classic case of pot calling the kettle black.Since when did auto drivers in Chennai have the right to comment on any ones driving?.They are classic examples of how not to drive.
Having found a parking lot,I was locking the car when I noticed a security guard of the house near the parking lot,eye me with some glee.He had that look that most security guards get when the realise that the car has been parked and the occupant is on their way.That's when most of them decide that this is a non parking zone.How anyone can claim that a public road belong to them is beyond me.Thankfully the chap must have seen my face and decided not to react.
So some fifteen minutes later I reached the shop which housed the courier and the photocopying place.
Its a fact that shops in Chennai don't open before ten so I find that the courier place is not opened but the other one is.The gentleman who runs it is busy cleaning out his shop and when I ask if I can get a photocopy done,he ignores me.So I wait in the heat, sweat pouring down my face and back while he finishes sweeping and dusting the place.I also notice that there are atleast 20 different gods pictures around his shop.He finishes his cleaning and I hope he would switch on the machine but hey wait a minute,the gods have to be kept happy.A child of around 6yrs old comes over with flowers.She also waits patiently while he lights the incense and waves it around all the gods present.The next step is to light the lamps and say his prayers.The girl waits like she probably does every day but my patience is running thin.I wonder if I should go over to another place but some quick calculations later I figure that that will lead to more delays so I wait.
There is a little board in the shop that says customers are important etc but obviously business can wait as there would be no business if the gods don't bless you and I figured that he had probably done the same maths that I had and knew how futile it would be for me to move from there so the business could wait.
It was the girls turn so the flowers are handed over and he doesn't pay her in the shop.He takes the money and steps out and hands it to her.Wonder why ?.The flowers have been strung but he cuts them out individually and places one flower per god.Then another set of prayers.In the meanwhile the courier man has arrived and he is not so keen a housekeeper so he takes out his order book.I rush over and tell him that I am waiting for a copy so could he get started on my cover and I leave the envelope behind so he can fill out the address and save me some time.Finally some twenty minutes later the shopkeeper turns to me and asks if I want a photocopy.For heavens sake what did he think I wanted,Darshan?.Once again he steps out like I am some untouchable and take the papers from me and gives me my copy so off I go to courier man,only to find that he hasn't done a thing about my envelope.So we start at the beginning and get it all over with.Forty five minutes later I jump into the car and drive into morning rush hour hour.What is the problem here.Is life really so laid back and unhurried or have I lost the ability to enjoy the simple things in life,have I forgotten how to do small chores,where has my patience gone.Give me a break the corporate world exists in the rarefied corridors of plush office,the reality on the ground is very different....or is it?.Have I seen and office run like clockwork where everyone is super efficeint.Oh dear,no really those are just tall claims and the only difference between the corporate world and the chaps who run small businesses is that they don't make tall claims!!!!
At around 9.30 am I set off believing it was a decent enough hour to get this work done.My angst starts with two auto drivers hurling abuses at me for putting the wrong indicator.Yes I wanted to turn right but as there was no parking I decided to turn left.Sandwiched as I was between two autos,they decided that as a woman driver I probably had no clue which was right or left.Jokes aside,this was a classic case of pot calling the kettle black.Since when did auto drivers in Chennai have the right to comment on any ones driving?.They are classic examples of how not to drive.
Having found a parking lot,I was locking the car when I noticed a security guard of the house near the parking lot,eye me with some glee.He had that look that most security guards get when the realise that the car has been parked and the occupant is on their way.That's when most of them decide that this is a non parking zone.How anyone can claim that a public road belong to them is beyond me.Thankfully the chap must have seen my face and decided not to react.
So some fifteen minutes later I reached the shop which housed the courier and the photocopying place.
Its a fact that shops in Chennai don't open before ten so I find that the courier place is not opened but the other one is.The gentleman who runs it is busy cleaning out his shop and when I ask if I can get a photocopy done,he ignores me.So I wait in the heat, sweat pouring down my face and back while he finishes sweeping and dusting the place.I also notice that there are atleast 20 different gods pictures around his shop.He finishes his cleaning and I hope he would switch on the machine but hey wait a minute,the gods have to be kept happy.A child of around 6yrs old comes over with flowers.She also waits patiently while he lights the incense and waves it around all the gods present.The next step is to light the lamps and say his prayers.The girl waits like she probably does every day but my patience is running thin.I wonder if I should go over to another place but some quick calculations later I figure that that will lead to more delays so I wait.
There is a little board in the shop that says customers are important etc but obviously business can wait as there would be no business if the gods don't bless you and I figured that he had probably done the same maths that I had and knew how futile it would be for me to move from there so the business could wait.
It was the girls turn so the flowers are handed over and he doesn't pay her in the shop.He takes the money and steps out and hands it to her.Wonder why ?.The flowers have been strung but he cuts them out individually and places one flower per god.Then another set of prayers.In the meanwhile the courier man has arrived and he is not so keen a housekeeper so he takes out his order book.I rush over and tell him that I am waiting for a copy so could he get started on my cover and I leave the envelope behind so he can fill out the address and save me some time.Finally some twenty minutes later the shopkeeper turns to me and asks if I want a photocopy.For heavens sake what did he think I wanted,Darshan?.Once again he steps out like I am some untouchable and take the papers from me and gives me my copy so off I go to courier man,only to find that he hasn't done a thing about my envelope.So we start at the beginning and get it all over with.Forty five minutes later I jump into the car and drive into morning rush hour hour.What is the problem here.Is life really so laid back and unhurried or have I lost the ability to enjoy the simple things in life,have I forgotten how to do small chores,where has my patience gone.Give me a break the corporate world exists in the rarefied corridors of plush office,the reality on the ground is very different....or is it?.Have I seen and office run like clockwork where everyone is super efficeint.Oh dear,no really those are just tall claims and the only difference between the corporate world and the chaps who run small businesses is that they don't make tall claims!!!!
services for the old
I am not a great fan of corporate hospitals or the catholic church.Corporate hospitals simply because I cant understand how one can make money on someones ill health.Wasn't medic an meant to help mankind.The catholic church because in my opinion they are rather outdated,and ritualistic.
In the last few weeks however I have had to review my opinion on both.
Looking after old parents at best of times is taxing,especially when one has a full time job.Looking after them in sickness is worse.So in despair I searched the local news papers for agencies that would provide a nurse for a short time.Except for loosing money to some tall promises nothing materialised.I then discovered Unique Health services run by the Apollo Hospitals.They actually has a service that one can become a member with and they would provide a trained nurse and doctor on call.Sceptical at the best of times,I decided that I had no option and paid up the fee.The doctor arrived and the nurse followed.When they told me she was 22,I was most worried,but the result of the experience left me well and truly hooked.Here was a nurse who was trained,college educated and well equipped to handle old people with care and patience.Half my stress disappeared.Of course this facility comes at a price that few of us can afford full time but then it is a service with possibilities.
The nurse left and my search for a companion for the old folk started.Agencies are a dime a dozen but each one as unreliable as the other.Huge fees,advances and unorganised they can get ones stress levels to an all time high.Till a friend suggested a church.Not being a regular church goer myself,I wondered if this was yet another agency and sent my sister to check it out.Looks like the catholic church gets something right.They have over the years housed many services which cater to the larger interests of the family,be it counsellors,priests or housemaid and companions.The service is efficient,accepts payments by cheque and their follow up is superb.Besides which they make no tall promises.The local St Lukes church runs this service called Sneha Deepam.
It may be too early to take a judgement call on both but Chennai is a great place for medical care and options and people remain to some extent honest
In the last few weeks however I have had to review my opinion on both.
Looking after old parents at best of times is taxing,especially when one has a full time job.Looking after them in sickness is worse.So in despair I searched the local news papers for agencies that would provide a nurse for a short time.Except for loosing money to some tall promises nothing materialised.I then discovered Unique Health services run by the Apollo Hospitals.They actually has a service that one can become a member with and they would provide a trained nurse and doctor on call.Sceptical at the best of times,I decided that I had no option and paid up the fee.The doctor arrived and the nurse followed.When they told me she was 22,I was most worried,but the result of the experience left me well and truly hooked.Here was a nurse who was trained,college educated and well equipped to handle old people with care and patience.Half my stress disappeared.Of course this facility comes at a price that few of us can afford full time but then it is a service with possibilities.
The nurse left and my search for a companion for the old folk started.Agencies are a dime a dozen but each one as unreliable as the other.Huge fees,advances and unorganised they can get ones stress levels to an all time high.Till a friend suggested a church.Not being a regular church goer myself,I wondered if this was yet another agency and sent my sister to check it out.Looks like the catholic church gets something right.They have over the years housed many services which cater to the larger interests of the family,be it counsellors,priests or housemaid and companions.The service is efficient,accepts payments by cheque and their follow up is superb.Besides which they make no tall promises.The local St Lukes church runs this service called Sneha Deepam.
It may be too early to take a judgement call on both but Chennai is a great place for medical care and options and people remain to some extent honest
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Its a dogs life
Dogs....most us us have pedigree ones who need care and maintenance and we love them,but there are yet others to whom a dog can be just any dog even a stray.Take the street where I live or even the area I live in.There are three dogs on my street who live on the road and they have territorial rights to the road.No other dog is allowed according to road dog rules.The rest of the street dogs respect that as they all have similar rules.Most houses on our street also have dogs that live in their homes.None of these are the pedigree ones.They are all strays that have been adopted,taken home ,rehabilitated and are love and looked after.They in turn learn to live and be friendly with all the neighbours so if we pat them on the back they will wag their tails,they will always greet the neighbours with a friendly bark.
The real queen of the road however is Susi.She is know by many names,appu is one of them and she answers to all.She has this great weakness for construction sites.I suspect that's also to do with the fact that most construction workers cook a good meal after a hard days work and have no problems sharing this with her.Also the cool sands and stones that are available on building sites are a welcome resting place.We first met Susi when our flat was being built.She knew we were going to be living there and was most civil to us,waged her tail,followed us around and we fell in love.
Today she moves from one site to the other but her favourite places are the parking lot of a building two houses away from ours or on a very hot day,the terrace of our flat.On days when some male dog has caught her fancy she would invite him over to the terrace.I have seen a brown dog with that completely smitten look on its face,going down the stairs and I think to myself..."oh yet another one of her victims".
Susi is fed and looked after by all of us and all the other dogs acknowledge her status on that road.She is fed on biscuits,beef,bones and whatever else we can pass her way.She also knows our friends and our visitors and greets them with such love and affection that they always bring a teat along.
Its finally all about the way one treats the animals.If we as a street had kicked and ill treated her like some folks are likely to do,we would have gotten a bad dog and all the problems that came along.
Its sad that one reads of communities that kill dogs just because they have caused some problems and while it is tragic that dogs have killed babies,we must remember that dogs by nature are not man eaters.If we show a little kindness then we wont have these problems.Can we spend a moment to think of their hunger or their need for love and attention and medical care?.The problem of strays is what we have created,lets not blame the dogs alone.
The real queen of the road however is Susi.She is know by many names,appu is one of them and she answers to all.She has this great weakness for construction sites.I suspect that's also to do with the fact that most construction workers cook a good meal after a hard days work and have no problems sharing this with her.Also the cool sands and stones that are available on building sites are a welcome resting place.We first met Susi when our flat was being built.She knew we were going to be living there and was most civil to us,waged her tail,followed us around and we fell in love.
Today she moves from one site to the other but her favourite places are the parking lot of a building two houses away from ours or on a very hot day,the terrace of our flat.On days when some male dog has caught her fancy she would invite him over to the terrace.I have seen a brown dog with that completely smitten look on its face,going down the stairs and I think to myself..."oh yet another one of her victims".
Susi is fed and looked after by all of us and all the other dogs acknowledge her status on that road.She is fed on biscuits,beef,bones and whatever else we can pass her way.She also knows our friends and our visitors and greets them with such love and affection that they always bring a teat along.
Its finally all about the way one treats the animals.If we as a street had kicked and ill treated her like some folks are likely to do,we would have gotten a bad dog and all the problems that came along.
Its sad that one reads of communities that kill dogs just because they have caused some problems and while it is tragic that dogs have killed babies,we must remember that dogs by nature are not man eaters.If we show a little kindness then we wont have these problems.Can we spend a moment to think of their hunger or their need for love and attention and medical care?.The problem of strays is what we have created,lets not blame the dogs alone.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Childhood in Madras
Every now and again I need to go back in time.Guess my yesterdays were far better than my today's.Well whatever the reason,having lived in Madras for years,I find going back in time happy.It usually happens when some well known landmark is being demolished and a glass monstrosity in coming up in its place.
So I have decided to start with the most important landmarks of my childhood in Madras.All shopping was done in Mount road.In those days this was a city of neon lights,much like the modern New York.They blinked and moved exciting messages of sales and bargains,of brands and such.All blue and red and wonderful.
Our meat was bought from Spencer's.The red brick building had a circular driveway with a few cars but most people came on public transport.The cold storage was a place to be.They also had a soda fountain where we were treated to cold lemonade and ice cream while the meat was being packed.Christmas time at Spencer's was an event to remember.Santa clause was always there and handing out gifts,large Christmas trees with decorations and gifts galore and the whole place lit up with Christmas carols in the background.All the old nice ones ,not the remixed versions we get today.
Buharis was another place for Christmas.Thin sandwiches were there speciality.Don't know what went into them but they were out of this world.
When it wasn't Christmas,we went to India silk house on mount road for most things.They were the only ones who sold swim suits then.My mother bought saris at tata Finlay and the white voils and organdie's still bring back memories.Small flowers on white was very fashionable in them days.Kiddies corner was the place for children's clothes and when we were were tired of all our shopping we went to Jaffers.This was the best ice cream place for years.High bar stools for children,comfortable sofas for adults.A banana split with chocolate cream,served in a boat.Peach Melba in a steel ice cream cup was the show stopper on the menu and the ice cream sundae was the best we have ever had.A pink wafer stuck out of the ice cream and the waiters in white with red caps,who knew exactly what a child wanted but was too scared to ask,were the best in the city.
Chellarams was always the place to buy dress materials,we didn't care for assembly line clothes.Our clothes were always stitched by Charms.I don't know what his name was,suspect it was Krishnamachari chand but we called him Charm uncle.He took pains to give us the latest designs from simplicity (fashion magazine) so were were always turned out well.Regular fittings were the order of the day and no demand of a 6 year old was too much for charm.
Next door to Charm was Kamala stores.He provided all the regular stuff and for Christmas I always got a big box of mangarams biscuits.I always believed he loved me so much and that's why I got the biscuits but my mother was a good customer and this was his way of keeping her happy,but it did wonders for my child ego.On regular days,my reward for being good was a large bottle of coca cola with a straw which I slurped noisily and with relish.The day coke was thrown out of India i stoped drinking it and when it did come back I was too old for it .In my mind it was a drink which was strongly associated with childhood.
This covered Mount road and Egmore in Madras.I have now to go to the various other places which have memories of a different eras.Until the next post.
So I have decided to start with the most important landmarks of my childhood in Madras.All shopping was done in Mount road.In those days this was a city of neon lights,much like the modern New York.They blinked and moved exciting messages of sales and bargains,of brands and such.All blue and red and wonderful.
Our meat was bought from Spencer's.The red brick building had a circular driveway with a few cars but most people came on public transport.The cold storage was a place to be.They also had a soda fountain where we were treated to cold lemonade and ice cream while the meat was being packed.Christmas time at Spencer's was an event to remember.Santa clause was always there and handing out gifts,large Christmas trees with decorations and gifts galore and the whole place lit up with Christmas carols in the background.All the old nice ones ,not the remixed versions we get today.
Buharis was another place for Christmas.Thin sandwiches were there speciality.Don't know what went into them but they were out of this world.
When it wasn't Christmas,we went to India silk house on mount road for most things.They were the only ones who sold swim suits then.My mother bought saris at tata Finlay and the white voils and organdie's still bring back memories.Small flowers on white was very fashionable in them days.Kiddies corner was the place for children's clothes and when we were were tired of all our shopping we went to Jaffers.This was the best ice cream place for years.High bar stools for children,comfortable sofas for adults.A banana split with chocolate cream,served in a boat.Peach Melba in a steel ice cream cup was the show stopper on the menu and the ice cream sundae was the best we have ever had.A pink wafer stuck out of the ice cream and the waiters in white with red caps,who knew exactly what a child wanted but was too scared to ask,were the best in the city.
Chellarams was always the place to buy dress materials,we didn't care for assembly line clothes.Our clothes were always stitched by Charms.I don't know what his name was,suspect it was Krishnamachari chand but we called him Charm uncle.He took pains to give us the latest designs from simplicity (fashion magazine) so were were always turned out well.Regular fittings were the order of the day and no demand of a 6 year old was too much for charm.
Next door to Charm was Kamala stores.He provided all the regular stuff and for Christmas I always got a big box of mangarams biscuits.I always believed he loved me so much and that's why I got the biscuits but my mother was a good customer and this was his way of keeping her happy,but it did wonders for my child ego.On regular days,my reward for being good was a large bottle of coca cola with a straw which I slurped noisily and with relish.The day coke was thrown out of India i stoped drinking it and when it did come back I was too old for it .In my mind it was a drink which was strongly associated with childhood.
This covered Mount road and Egmore in Madras.I have now to go to the various other places which have memories of a different eras.Until the next post.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
A sandbank and Ram
Watching the news is always an interesting pastime in India.The TV news channels will bend over backwards to get anyone and everyone to make a wrong move and if they have someone who refuses to rise to the bait then they will twist the words clean out of context.It requires a lot of skill to do this so lets not underestimate them for a moment.
Yesterday was probably every ones idea of a great day.The Sethu Samudram project is being debated hotly and everyone and his uncle has an opinion.Honestly to be frank I haven't a clue what this project is all about.Suffice to say that there is talk to building a bridge which I believe will make life simpler for most people.But the fun begins right there.
One would think a discussion on a development project which includes breaking down a self formed sandbank,would be more on the lines of what this would mean to the environment,would it affect the ecological balance of the region.What would the cost be and would the benefits out way the cost etc.But strangely none of this matters.All that really matters is that some down and out political parties who have been desperate for a poll platform have suddenly woken up and found a cause.So the fun starts with a Hindu party vs a rational party (both parties have the majority of members belonging to the Hindu religion) fighting over a theory that the god ram build this bridge and therefore it cannot be touched and all the rest of it.
I decided to put all the politics and religion aside as neither interests me so let look at my trumped up story.
There was this guy called ram.Young restless and student to boot.His dad Sethuraman has been after him to join an engineering college and do something worthwhile for once.Poor Ram Sethu is far more interested in fishing and watching boats and ships go by and he has quiet by accident discovered a lovely sandbank that's as good as a bridge and which gets him places.He can walk almost halfway into srilanka and what a place to be.Its been fun for him so he discovers new stuff everyday.Coral reefs,wonderful fish and fisher folk who were more than happy to serve piping hot fish fry.Oh to be in heaven.Unfortunately over time he became a part of that landscape and despite all his fathers advice,he never went to college.He became part of the environment,enjoyed nature at its best.One day he went swimming too far from the sandbank and then tragedy struck,Ram Sethu was eaten by a shark long before he made it to shore.In memory of a fine young man who appreciated what nature gave him,that areas of the sandbank was named by the fisher folk as the Ram Sethu and that's how the name came about.
Today many years later shallow politicians try to gain political mileage and whip up communal disharmony and forget the reasons for preserving a beautiful place that nature built.Do we destroy the great barrier reef?.Do we call upon religion to fight causes of the environment?.
It sad that a country poised on the verge of economic greatness,is brought to its knees at regular intervals by men who have no vision except their own personal mortality.Time to wake up India.
Yesterday was probably every ones idea of a great day.The Sethu Samudram project is being debated hotly and everyone and his uncle has an opinion.Honestly to be frank I haven't a clue what this project is all about.Suffice to say that there is talk to building a bridge which I believe will make life simpler for most people.But the fun begins right there.
One would think a discussion on a development project which includes breaking down a self formed sandbank,would be more on the lines of what this would mean to the environment,would it affect the ecological balance of the region.What would the cost be and would the benefits out way the cost etc.But strangely none of this matters.All that really matters is that some down and out political parties who have been desperate for a poll platform have suddenly woken up and found a cause.So the fun starts with a Hindu party vs a rational party (both parties have the majority of members belonging to the Hindu religion) fighting over a theory that the god ram build this bridge and therefore it cannot be touched and all the rest of it.
I decided to put all the politics and religion aside as neither interests me so let look at my trumped up story.
There was this guy called ram.Young restless and student to boot.His dad Sethuraman has been after him to join an engineering college and do something worthwhile for once.Poor Ram Sethu is far more interested in fishing and watching boats and ships go by and he has quiet by accident discovered a lovely sandbank that's as good as a bridge and which gets him places.He can walk almost halfway into srilanka and what a place to be.Its been fun for him so he discovers new stuff everyday.Coral reefs,wonderful fish and fisher folk who were more than happy to serve piping hot fish fry.Oh to be in heaven.Unfortunately over time he became a part of that landscape and despite all his fathers advice,he never went to college.He became part of the environment,enjoyed nature at its best.One day he went swimming too far from the sandbank and then tragedy struck,Ram Sethu was eaten by a shark long before he made it to shore.In memory of a fine young man who appreciated what nature gave him,that areas of the sandbank was named by the fisher folk as the Ram Sethu and that's how the name came about.
Today many years later shallow politicians try to gain political mileage and whip up communal disharmony and forget the reasons for preserving a beautiful place that nature built.Do we destroy the great barrier reef?.Do we call upon religion to fight causes of the environment?.
It sad that a country poised on the verge of economic greatness,is brought to its knees at regular intervals by men who have no vision except their own personal mortality.Time to wake up India.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The elephant god
Religion is such an integral part of our culture and now its also part of our politics too.Over a period of time I have watched the majority of people moving towards religion.A lot I suspect has to do with marketing.As a child I watched neighbours bring home a mud ganesha from the local market,decorate it with flowers,put some vermilion on its forehead and do the pooja.After whatever period of time he would be immersed into the well in the house and everyone was happy.Me more so as he is a god who loves his food and that meant that some goodies came my way.
Somewhere after religion became part of politics,marketing companies started cashing in on these poojas.In Chennai where it was always low key,there was a sudden flurry of activity.Overnight temples mushroomed at every nook and corner of each road.Gone were the days when ganesha was part of the gate of most houses.I watched as small idols grew into small temples.Soon a poojari arrived and was paid a salary,the pavement was then plastered with tiles,expansion was on and slowly the small roadside temple encroached into the road.No one can do a thing about it,there is sentiment involved.Today I watch as huge pandals are put up,local residents clamour for prasad,mikes blare and lights are lit big time.The cops are out to guard against any violence and the god himself has transformed from a simple elephant god to a colourfull and large figure.The paint and the colours used do nothing for ground water.In fact they pollute but unfortunately a simple festival that the elephant god called his own is no longer in his control.The marketing companies run it.There is money and power involved but not from the gods.It belongs to the local strongman.
I am all for marketing but not at the risk of giving up the simple joys of prayer and devotion.Today very few houses make the goodies with love,goodies that are so much a part of each festival.Today one pops into the local sweet shop and orders.What ever happened to licking plates and spoons,what ever happened to all the legends and stories and the myths that gave such character to these simple outpourings of devotion.Today its been dragged into the world of commerce,its flat,superficial and I wonder if the elephant god feels as bad as I do for the passing of a simple life.
Somewhere after religion became part of politics,marketing companies started cashing in on these poojas.In Chennai where it was always low key,there was a sudden flurry of activity.Overnight temples mushroomed at every nook and corner of each road.Gone were the days when ganesha was part of the gate of most houses.I watched as small idols grew into small temples.Soon a poojari arrived and was paid a salary,the pavement was then plastered with tiles,expansion was on and slowly the small roadside temple encroached into the road.No one can do a thing about it,there is sentiment involved.Today I watch as huge pandals are put up,local residents clamour for prasad,mikes blare and lights are lit big time.The cops are out to guard against any violence and the god himself has transformed from a simple elephant god to a colourfull and large figure.The paint and the colours used do nothing for ground water.In fact they pollute but unfortunately a simple festival that the elephant god called his own is no longer in his control.The marketing companies run it.There is money and power involved but not from the gods.It belongs to the local strongman.
I am all for marketing but not at the risk of giving up the simple joys of prayer and devotion.Today very few houses make the goodies with love,goodies that are so much a part of each festival.Today one pops into the local sweet shop and orders.What ever happened to licking plates and spoons,what ever happened to all the legends and stories and the myths that gave such character to these simple outpourings of devotion.Today its been dragged into the world of commerce,its flat,superficial and I wonder if the elephant god feels as bad as I do for the passing of a simple life.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Home where my thoughts escape
Just realised that I am having a full grown affair.(those of you who know me don't faint,like always we tend to panic so suggest you read the rest of the sentence and then react).An affair with real estate.On Saturday I fell in love with a dream house.Perfect in every way,it was in the heart of the city but tucked away in a little drive,if you didn't notice it it was gone.A lovely house with a huge terrace.I can see it fill up with people having tea and cookies,hot chocolate on a rainy day and me making sandwiches to music.Plants all around and atmosphere to kill for.The agent quoted a price.I was so in love that I didn't register how big a hole it would make in my pocket,if that is possible.The price was so high that it will always remain a dream,but I shall go back and find out who buys it.Its a lovely place.The same day I drove around in yet another part of town.I spent the afternoon looking at houses,taking in the gardens and the decor,the road and the names are all registered in my mind.Its therapy.There are lots of beautiful homes left in the city but they are fast giving way to high rise,stuff which can not move one to tears or move one to anything for that matter.I wonder when I see a beautiful place with gardens,as to who lives there.They must have taste not to have given way to the rapid change that this city is going through.
I am going through the city in parts.Every week I identify a place and drive to see lovely buildings.One day I hope to stumble on a dream that doesn't have to remain a dream.Right now I just enjoy the moment.Love as they say is a many splendid thing
I am going through the city in parts.Every week I identify a place and drive to see lovely buildings.One day I hope to stumble on a dream that doesn't have to remain a dream.Right now I just enjoy the moment.Love as they say is a many splendid thing
Monday, September 03, 2007
Its another manic monday
Its another manic Monday....this is how the song goes and for years I wondered what this meant,until now.It looks like every Monday is the same for me.Its always another manic Monday.Its starts with me feeling blue about the weekend being over and yet another week starting.Then the phone rings anytime between 7 am and 8 am and its either the parents having a crisis which means the whole day is over coz of tension and worry and sorting out stuff.Or its the cook calling in to say he cant make it and since I haven't decided the menu there is a mad rush to cook against a deadline and that means yet another Monday ruined.Is it my imagination or is it my mind controlling events.I suspect too much reading up on magic is messing up my brains,but the fact is that I just know,when the phone is going to ring,I just know who is on the line well before I pick it up and I know the story.Its scary to have such a vivid view of the future,its unnerving to know in the pit of your stomach that something is going to happen and it happens.I cant control it,my mind is on its own trip and it scares me.
Every Monday morning is the same and I hate Mondays.My mind plays up from Sunday night.I toss and turn as thoughts and images run through my head and then it all happens.One would think I would be prepared but I am not.Its never good news.Its always a crisis.Yet the same things happen at office.Its a joke that my stomach speaks to me.It tells me what the client will say,it will tell me in advance if a simple problem will go on to be a full grown crisis,and I am never wrong.That has a good side.My team trusts my stomach so we have averted many a disaster,but do I warn people in advance?.No I don't,how can I,it would amount to some innate sixth sense that propels my mind forward but I am too scared to voice it.and so my thoughts toss on turbulent seas and the dark circles deepen and I get more and more desperate to control my mind.
Every Monday morning is the same and I hate Mondays.My mind plays up from Sunday night.I toss and turn as thoughts and images run through my head and then it all happens.One would think I would be prepared but I am not.Its never good news.Its always a crisis.Yet the same things happen at office.Its a joke that my stomach speaks to me.It tells me what the client will say,it will tell me in advance if a simple problem will go on to be a full grown crisis,and I am never wrong.That has a good side.My team trusts my stomach so we have averted many a disaster,but do I warn people in advance?.No I don't,how can I,it would amount to some innate sixth sense that propels my mind forward but I am too scared to voice it.and so my thoughts toss on turbulent seas and the dark circles deepen and I get more and more desperate to control my mind.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Sister tales
My oldest sister (that's how she was referred to when I was at school) got a few good years of parenting practise well before she became a mother.It was her duty to look after me so while my mother got some well deserved shut eye,my sister practised her mothering skills on me.I was marched off to the British council library to read children's books.So much for that.
My sister is addicted to books,she will read anything she can get her hands on so when her first child was born,my mother put a ban on books.When my sister starts reading she forgets the world and my mother was more interested in her first grand son being cared for than for the latest Agatha Christie.My sister of course had other ideas.She fell in line but soon got bored so her way of getting both jobs done was to balance the child on her lap and hold her book in one hand,a bowl of cereal in the other and she would spoon the goo into the child's mouth by braille while she finished her latest book.It drove my mother mad but there was very little she could do about it.
When her children were a lot older,she let them do what they wanted.The messy rooms were soon cover up with innovative curtain ideas but she couldn't dream of cleaning up the mess.For years their home had pretty dark coloured wall and no one did anything about it.When the kids had left home and someone decided to paint the walls white,the house changed character.My sisters vivid imagination took a pretty funny turn and in one of those discussions with me she wondered if her children's lives had been darkened by the colour of the wall.Perhaps she had not been a good mother,maybe a little more care would have resulted in happier children (her kids are very happy but its sound like a better story line to imagine that they had dark lives and were unhappy thanks to the colour of their walls).One way this sister was different from the other sister was that she never lost her children in a supermarket.My other sister left her son in a supermarket trolley because she was so caught up in billing and forgot that she had brought a child along.I doubt if she would ever go to a supermarket and forget again (the child in question was pretty happy to be seeing the world from a different perspective)
Of course as time went on my sister lived life on her terms and her children grew used to that and enjoyed themselves and did rather well for themselves but my sisters active imagination creates stories that keep us in fits whenever she arrives at any of our homes.Like my mother always says...take her with a huge bag of salt.
She is now a grandmother but since the kids live in another country we are yet to hear morbid tales of her grand parenting ways.In time she will come up with stories that will sound like fairy tales and have us all either crying in despair or rolling with laughter.She is the ultimate entertainer
My sister is addicted to books,she will read anything she can get her hands on so when her first child was born,my mother put a ban on books.When my sister starts reading she forgets the world and my mother was more interested in her first grand son being cared for than for the latest Agatha Christie.My sister of course had other ideas.She fell in line but soon got bored so her way of getting both jobs done was to balance the child on her lap and hold her book in one hand,a bowl of cereal in the other and she would spoon the goo into the child's mouth by braille while she finished her latest book.It drove my mother mad but there was very little she could do about it.
When her children were a lot older,she let them do what they wanted.The messy rooms were soon cover up with innovative curtain ideas but she couldn't dream of cleaning up the mess.For years their home had pretty dark coloured wall and no one did anything about it.When the kids had left home and someone decided to paint the walls white,the house changed character.My sisters vivid imagination took a pretty funny turn and in one of those discussions with me she wondered if her children's lives had been darkened by the colour of the wall.Perhaps she had not been a good mother,maybe a little more care would have resulted in happier children (her kids are very happy but its sound like a better story line to imagine that they had dark lives and were unhappy thanks to the colour of their walls).One way this sister was different from the other sister was that she never lost her children in a supermarket.My other sister left her son in a supermarket trolley because she was so caught up in billing and forgot that she had brought a child along.I doubt if she would ever go to a supermarket and forget again (the child in question was pretty happy to be seeing the world from a different perspective)
Of course as time went on my sister lived life on her terms and her children grew used to that and enjoyed themselves and did rather well for themselves but my sisters active imagination creates stories that keep us in fits whenever she arrives at any of our homes.Like my mother always says...take her with a huge bag of salt.
She is now a grandmother but since the kids live in another country we are yet to hear morbid tales of her grand parenting ways.In time she will come up with stories that will sound like fairy tales and have us all either crying in despair or rolling with laughter.She is the ultimate entertainer
Thursday, August 23, 2007
old age and plans
For a few years now....no lets be precise....for two years now a group of us ladies (I still think girls is so much better but well) have been meeting on and off for a drink and pot luck.Any excuse to get together.Our conversations has over the years revolved around old parents,young children,trying bosses and husband who drive us mad,but who for some reason some of us love and others hate.
Over these last years we have seen children grow up and leave home,divorce happen,husbands being absent more often than not thanks to work.Long and short of it is that suddenly we are a bunch of women who are almost always alone.So we meet,to support each other,to cheer and encourage and comfort.We have now moved past all of these topics of yesteryear's to our current obsession.Retirement plans.Increasingly we are discussing setting up homes close to each other of creating revenue generating ideas that we can all work out together .Our plans are varied.It ranges from babysitting business to food chains to managing talent and so on and so forth.Yesterday two of us has already though of doing our Ph D and were looking for funding.
We are also aware that none of us can possibly be at home doing nothing.We are restless spirits,we need to do stuff.The conversations continue but we haven't got down to concrete plan.
I believe its all about what we are doing at the moment.Secretly we all enjoy what we do,we love bitching about our bosses...imagine life with out a fussy boss,we love complaining about our dysfunctional families...unfortunately we love them.We hate city traffic but are ready to drive off at the drop of a hat,we hate parties but love to go just to watch everyone else.Well why then are we discussing retirement.Me thinks we are not ready for it,but as a topic for late evening conversations,its perfect.
I dread to think of this gang being at home jobless.Not only will we drive ourselves mad,we will probably drive the rest of our families crazy too.
Over these last years we have seen children grow up and leave home,divorce happen,husbands being absent more often than not thanks to work.Long and short of it is that suddenly we are a bunch of women who are almost always alone.So we meet,to support each other,to cheer and encourage and comfort.We have now moved past all of these topics of yesteryear's to our current obsession.Retirement plans.Increasingly we are discussing setting up homes close to each other of creating revenue generating ideas that we can all work out together .Our plans are varied.It ranges from babysitting business to food chains to managing talent and so on and so forth.Yesterday two of us has already though of doing our Ph D and were looking for funding.
We are also aware that none of us can possibly be at home doing nothing.We are restless spirits,we need to do stuff.The conversations continue but we haven't got down to concrete plan.
I believe its all about what we are doing at the moment.Secretly we all enjoy what we do,we love bitching about our bosses...imagine life with out a fussy boss,we love complaining about our dysfunctional families...unfortunately we love them.We hate city traffic but are ready to drive off at the drop of a hat,we hate parties but love to go just to watch everyone else.Well why then are we discussing retirement.Me thinks we are not ready for it,but as a topic for late evening conversations,its perfect.
I dread to think of this gang being at home jobless.Not only will we drive ourselves mad,we will probably drive the rest of our families crazy too.
see saw fads
Whats it now,a month or more,not sure,but some of the blogging in me went out of the window.Not surprising really considering how everyone I know asks me what my latest fad is.The annoying thing is that the question is accompanied with a knowing smile which really says...oh well we never expected her to stick to anything for long.Considering I have stuck to jobs a lot more than others and stuck to husband for years and years,all this is a bit unkind.
Alright lets give all my friends and well wishers the benefit of doubt,and tell everyone what the fads have been.Started with learning tanjore painting which fell by the wayside the moment it graduated into craft.Hate messing around with glue and paint and stuff like that.A Faber castel pencil with soft lead is just for me.Doodling is more my thing.
Then it was this blog which I couldn't get enough of so I wrote and wrote and felt good.Never mind that no one reads it but its good for my soul to know that all this is being recorded for posterity.Then life took a bad turn and turned busy and the corporate cat was reduced to corporate rat and then the race started in full earnest,so the blog went for a toss until today when I discovered I had a mew left in me.
The last two months have been about getting out of bed at 5.30 am and dashing off to the gym.Its resulted in my feeling lighter and more energetic and very proud of myself.The tragedy is that its all motivated by guilt.Because the arrangement is that a friend picks me up,I hate to let her down so off I go.On days I need to pick her up its the same story....guilt.And to think guilt is a negative emotion.Don't know how long it will last but there are a set of clothes in my cupboard from the thin days that are waiting for me.
That's about the current obsession,fad whatever.
Alright lets give all my friends and well wishers the benefit of doubt,and tell everyone what the fads have been.Started with learning tanjore painting which fell by the wayside the moment it graduated into craft.Hate messing around with glue and paint and stuff like that.A Faber castel pencil with soft lead is just for me.Doodling is more my thing.
Then it was this blog which I couldn't get enough of so I wrote and wrote and felt good.Never mind that no one reads it but its good for my soul to know that all this is being recorded for posterity.Then life took a bad turn and turned busy and the corporate cat was reduced to corporate rat and then the race started in full earnest,so the blog went for a toss until today when I discovered I had a mew left in me.
The last two months have been about getting out of bed at 5.30 am and dashing off to the gym.Its resulted in my feeling lighter and more energetic and very proud of myself.The tragedy is that its all motivated by guilt.Because the arrangement is that a friend picks me up,I hate to let her down so off I go.On days I need to pick her up its the same story....guilt.And to think guilt is a negative emotion.Don't know how long it will last but there are a set of clothes in my cupboard from the thin days that are waiting for me.
That's about the current obsession,fad whatever.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Mistakes and rewards
He was all of 25,when he came to see me about a job.He looked like a bodybuilder,casual clothes but obviously working out in a gym.He said that since it was a Friday he was allowed to wear casual clothes.He was recommended by a friend,but being one to take my own decisions,I asked him all the questions I normally ask someone looking for a job.
I had to recruit so after about two or three interactions I decided to give him the job.No one could believe it.He was not the kind who would pass muster with me,so why did I agree.
I am really not sure,his English wasn't great,he didn't look like he was very quick on the uptake but there was something there,some spark that I couldn't put my finger on.So the deed was done.
From the day he came on board I figured I had made a huge mistake,I questioned my decision after hounding the boy for days,I coaxed,yelled,counselled and did everything I could possibly do and handed him over to another person.Why did I spend so much time on what was clearly a mistake.Well very simple.He came from a background where learning by rote was accepted.At school they didn't teach them to apply their mind.Is that my problem...no but the point is we are increasingly creating people who are spoon fed to such an extent that their life skills are totally lacking.After three months of constant talking I realised what I had always known.Here was a person who had studied and worked in isolation.No one had bothered to train,mentor or coach.We assume everyone will pick up but that's not true.No two individuals are alike and no two people can be treated alike.The person was not fit for the job at hand but did that make him unemployable.No,he probably would do a lot better someplace else.Everyone thought I had sacked him.Such a harsh word,so negative.In common parlance that's what I did,but I took the pains of explaining that his flaws could be rectified,pointed out that life was not easy at the best of times and that it was important to find a job that one enjoyed and identified with.He listened but I was never sure he appreciated any of what I said.
He left the company but continued to keep in touch without any negativity.Yesterday he called from the airport on his way to study MBA in Marketing in Australia.He had crammed and got through the various tests that the university set for him , got admission,organised a student loan and was calling us to say that if it hadn't been for the time my colleague and I had spent on him,badgered him,yelled at him and generally tried every trick in the book to make him see sense,he would have still been in some company doing a job he want interested in or didn't have the aptitude for.Today as he speaks to us he is a more confident chap and seems to have realised that life is not so easy after all but that it has its rewards.
When I put that phone down I realised that what seemed like my biggest mistake,was also my biggest learning.My beliefe that all individuals have something good in them,some talent waiting to be discovered if we bothered to find it,was paying off.I am so glad I made a mistake!!!
I had to recruit so after about two or three interactions I decided to give him the job.No one could believe it.He was not the kind who would pass muster with me,so why did I agree.
I am really not sure,his English wasn't great,he didn't look like he was very quick on the uptake but there was something there,some spark that I couldn't put my finger on.So the deed was done.
From the day he came on board I figured I had made a huge mistake,I questioned my decision after hounding the boy for days,I coaxed,yelled,counselled and did everything I could possibly do and handed him over to another person.Why did I spend so much time on what was clearly a mistake.Well very simple.He came from a background where learning by rote was accepted.At school they didn't teach them to apply their mind.Is that my problem...no but the point is we are increasingly creating people who are spoon fed to such an extent that their life skills are totally lacking.After three months of constant talking I realised what I had always known.Here was a person who had studied and worked in isolation.No one had bothered to train,mentor or coach.We assume everyone will pick up but that's not true.No two individuals are alike and no two people can be treated alike.The person was not fit for the job at hand but did that make him unemployable.No,he probably would do a lot better someplace else.Everyone thought I had sacked him.Such a harsh word,so negative.In common parlance that's what I did,but I took the pains of explaining that his flaws could be rectified,pointed out that life was not easy at the best of times and that it was important to find a job that one enjoyed and identified with.He listened but I was never sure he appreciated any of what I said.
He left the company but continued to keep in touch without any negativity.Yesterday he called from the airport on his way to study MBA in Marketing in Australia.He had crammed and got through the various tests that the university set for him , got admission,organised a student loan and was calling us to say that if it hadn't been for the time my colleague and I had spent on him,badgered him,yelled at him and generally tried every trick in the book to make him see sense,he would have still been in some company doing a job he want interested in or didn't have the aptitude for.Today as he speaks to us he is a more confident chap and seems to have realised that life is not so easy after all but that it has its rewards.
When I put that phone down I realised that what seemed like my biggest mistake,was also my biggest learning.My beliefe that all individuals have something good in them,some talent waiting to be discovered if we bothered to find it,was paying off.I am so glad I made a mistake!!!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Remember
There always seems to be an anniversary around.Birthdays,weddings,deaths,aniv of when we met,aniv of how long we worked,aniv of one project or the other.Frankly these anniversaries leave me cold.Whats so special really.Ok so it was a big occasion for that year and that moment but why keep harping about it.Why not look to something new.I for one cannot remember my own birthday (maybe I don't want to accept old age) Will remember wedding aniv or the husband will be very offended.Will remember parents birthdays (they are old and will feel unwanted).So all the dates I remember have some meaning but why would I want to remember when I joined a company x(actually I had better remember,need a raise).
People are always sending these updates on birthday lists.People who don't talk to me or write to me and want to remember my birthday.Give me a break...why on earth would they want to.Of course if they wanted to send me a gift that would be fine and relevant.
So today I am going to cut a cake for yet another anniversary but this is part of a role I need to play so shall pin up a nice smile,put some warmth into my voice and a twinkle in my eye and shall enjoy the performance.
People are always sending these updates on birthday lists.People who don't talk to me or write to me and want to remember my birthday.Give me a break...why on earth would they want to.Of course if they wanted to send me a gift that would be fine and relevant.
So today I am going to cut a cake for yet another anniversary but this is part of a role I need to play so shall pin up a nice smile,put some warmth into my voice and a twinkle in my eye and shall enjoy the performance.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Old friends.
Some friends I 've been in touch with for years.Actually I could count my friends on my fingers.These are special people.People who I can call at any time,drop in on them unexpectedly,call over when I am so bored with my own company that I could cry.Well some have been around for 25 years.Some even longer.All of us have some common line,some were in school together,some in college,others worked together.We discovered we had common friends and the bonds grew deeper.
Over the years,we have shared our taste for entertainment,books,men,relationships.Its uncanny how we would pour over those silly questionnaires in women's magazines only to realise that we all got the same or similar scores,so we start doing them for ourselves and then for our friends.
As we grew older,our style sense get more similar,we wear similar clothes,have our hair cut the same way.We live within shouting distance of each other,not by intent or design but by sheer accident.
We didn't realise how similar we had become.We didn't realise that we had influenced each others lives so much that we could finish a sentence for the other.It was driven home to us at a party.My friend and I walked into the room,and someone who didn't know us in the group thought we were sisters.We looked at each other and laughed but that was it.
Soon I was out with another friend also of 20 odd years and the same question.I couldn't look like three people all at once could I but the similarities were there.We even chose the same colours,used the same phrases,even married people who had lots in common with each other.
I begin to think that my real sisters have far less in common with me than these girlfriends of long ago.Maybe this is called sisterhood.Well whatever it is I sure am glad these girls are so much a part of my life.
Over the years,we have shared our taste for entertainment,books,men,relationships.Its uncanny how we would pour over those silly questionnaires in women's magazines only to realise that we all got the same or similar scores,so we start doing them for ourselves and then for our friends.
As we grew older,our style sense get more similar,we wear similar clothes,have our hair cut the same way.We live within shouting distance of each other,not by intent or design but by sheer accident.
We didn't realise how similar we had become.We didn't realise that we had influenced each others lives so much that we could finish a sentence for the other.It was driven home to us at a party.My friend and I walked into the room,and someone who didn't know us in the group thought we were sisters.We looked at each other and laughed but that was it.
Soon I was out with another friend also of 20 odd years and the same question.I couldn't look like three people all at once could I but the similarities were there.We even chose the same colours,used the same phrases,even married people who had lots in common with each other.
I begin to think that my real sisters have far less in common with me than these girlfriends of long ago.Maybe this is called sisterhood.Well whatever it is I sure am glad these girls are so much a part of my life.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
mushrooming in the monsoons
Monsoons are a great time to be in Kerala,especially if the house was on the backwaters and as far away from civilization as possible.The reason being that it rains and rains nonstop and as kids we always wondered how Noah built his ark.But the real story is the one of the mushrooms.Soon after the rains we would rush out into the fields surrounding the house,baskets in hand.There would be a dime a dozen fresh mushrooms,literally mushrooming around the place.We would scramble to pick the most number,fresh from the soil,the aroma of rain and wet earth was a heady mixture.We were taught how to differentiate between the regular ones and the poisonous ones but for the life of me I cant remember what it was.
The fresh mushrooms unlike the super market variety were thin,spindly ones and a grayish brown in colour.
They would be washed and mixed with grated coconut,steamed over a hot coal fire and served up garnished with mustard and curry leaves.Even before it was served up we would spoon it off the mud pots in which it was cook and relish the aftermath of the monsoons,mushroom style.
Why of why have those grasslands given way to concrete jungles.Why do we have to buy mushrooms from the supermarket all packed in plastic when all it required were bare hands.Well one thing even concrete jungles cant take away are my memories.I can still smell fresh rain drenched earth long after the cement has taken over.
The fresh mushrooms unlike the super market variety were thin,spindly ones and a grayish brown in colour.
They would be washed and mixed with grated coconut,steamed over a hot coal fire and served up garnished with mustard and curry leaves.Even before it was served up we would spoon it off the mud pots in which it was cook and relish the aftermath of the monsoons,mushroom style.
Why of why have those grasslands given way to concrete jungles.Why do we have to buy mushrooms from the supermarket all packed in plastic when all it required were bare hands.Well one thing even concrete jungles cant take away are my memories.I can still smell fresh rain drenched earth long after the cement has taken over.
Monday, July 16, 2007
The burger man
Its pouring rain and like mother Hubbard's cupboard,there is nothing in mine.Hunger drives me out of the house to the local shop to pick up stuff.Charmed the husband into driving in the rain which means that I don't need to get out of the car.He is very fussy about the car getting dirty and calamity Jane like me will put muddy feet on the mat .So to avoid all that he will get off in the rain,run to the shop and pick up stuff while I watch the world go by from the misty window of the car.
There are many shops in the place that once had just a sprawling house.Now there is a grocery store,vegetable shop,florist,soup stall,snack bar and a burger joint.All of them doing brisk business.Everyone stops for something or the other.The burger place is what gets my attention.It has the picture of a hamburger on it and a real good photograph at that.Looks good enough to eat,if you don't care for the junk bits.
The chap manning the stall is busy creating the burger.First he slathers a bun with tomato sauce,diluted many times over.Then on goes onion rings,tomato slices,some soggy vegetable cutlet which has been fried in old heated many times over.To top it all there is a slice of cheese.It looks nothing like the photograph but its ready and waiting for its next victim.
In the heavy downpour,a family leaves the grocery store.Their two children tag along behind them.Its pretty obvious that these kids have been fed on a diet of chips,coke,and all the junk one can get in the many fast food places.Suddenly the burger man steps out of this stall and beams at the two children.He exchanges a few words and the magic happens.The children tug at their fathers arm and insist on a burger.The hapless man doesn't stand a chance.He orders two and the kids light up with glee.The rain doesn't matter,they chomp with relish on the burger and if that's not enough the burger man has convinced them that one is not enough so they pack two for the road.
The soup stall isn't doing too badly either.They have tomato,mushroom,plantain pith and vegetable soup.Its been heated many times over and is hot and tempting.People line up with little paper cup for a glass of the brew.They look at the people at the burger place in disdain.These are the healthy ones,they stick to soup.If only they would look behind to the kitchen.No self respecting person would eat from a kitchen of that kind but who cares.This whole food business is a fad,something to talk about and a place to meet friends and hang out.
It doesn't cost much to set up so why am I looking at them and bitching about them when I ought to put my skills to good use and start a salad bar?.Why not indeed,perhaps I lack the will,or its just an excuse to do nothing.Oh well I did get inspired enough to make my version of a beef burger at home
There are many shops in the place that once had just a sprawling house.Now there is a grocery store,vegetable shop,florist,soup stall,snack bar and a burger joint.All of them doing brisk business.Everyone stops for something or the other.The burger place is what gets my attention.It has the picture of a hamburger on it and a real good photograph at that.Looks good enough to eat,if you don't care for the junk bits.
The chap manning the stall is busy creating the burger.First he slathers a bun with tomato sauce,diluted many times over.Then on goes onion rings,tomato slices,some soggy vegetable cutlet which has been fried in old heated many times over.To top it all there is a slice of cheese.It looks nothing like the photograph but its ready and waiting for its next victim.
In the heavy downpour,a family leaves the grocery store.Their two children tag along behind them.Its pretty obvious that these kids have been fed on a diet of chips,coke,and all the junk one can get in the many fast food places.Suddenly the burger man steps out of this stall and beams at the two children.He exchanges a few words and the magic happens.The children tug at their fathers arm and insist on a burger.The hapless man doesn't stand a chance.He orders two and the kids light up with glee.The rain doesn't matter,they chomp with relish on the burger and if that's not enough the burger man has convinced them that one is not enough so they pack two for the road.
The soup stall isn't doing too badly either.They have tomato,mushroom,plantain pith and vegetable soup.Its been heated many times over and is hot and tempting.People line up with little paper cup for a glass of the brew.They look at the people at the burger place in disdain.These are the healthy ones,they stick to soup.If only they would look behind to the kitchen.No self respecting person would eat from a kitchen of that kind but who cares.This whole food business is a fad,something to talk about and a place to meet friends and hang out.
It doesn't cost much to set up so why am I looking at them and bitching about them when I ought to put my skills to good use and start a salad bar?.Why not indeed,perhaps I lack the will,or its just an excuse to do nothing.Oh well I did get inspired enough to make my version of a beef burger at home
Thursday, July 12, 2007
the Namesake
Sometime last week,my sister sent me a very formal sms addressed to me by my official name.I figured she had sent it to the wrong person or on second thoughts,she may have been in one of her formal moods.Long and short of it was that either ways I didn't quiet get it.Something to do with a baby being born to someone and being named Rebecca
Silly me had forgotten that in far away Australia lived a niece who was expecting a baby.After a few phone calls from excited members of my family it dawned on me that there was a new baby who had become my namesake.
I am (according to most normal people)expected to be very happy that the latest addition to our family has been named after me.Its a rare honour,rarer because the niece in question is no great fan of mine (or so I believe).The entire family had various explanations as to why the child was allegedly named after me.The first and most amusing one was that she was named after a favourite aunt.(give me a break,I am no ones favourite).A friend said that she was conceived in my home (the maths just didn't work out so we killed that).Most of the family went with the first one.I didn't react,didn't blog on this either as I wasn't sure what I am expected to feel.
Ha but the niece put it all to rest.She wanted to know what I felt about her daughters name(what can I say,except that since its my name it is obviously a wise choice).Then the big question was she named after me (she says yes) Last and final question...why me (hey that is still unanswered,because my clever niece is thinking up some wisecrack answer to that one.
Suffice to say that with my name to begin life with,what more can a child ask for!!!!!
Perhaps I should hop on my broomstick and take a trip to Australia and wave a magic wand.Me thinks its a good idea.
Silly me had forgotten that in far away Australia lived a niece who was expecting a baby.After a few phone calls from excited members of my family it dawned on me that there was a new baby who had become my namesake.
I am (according to most normal people)expected to be very happy that the latest addition to our family has been named after me.Its a rare honour,rarer because the niece in question is no great fan of mine (or so I believe).The entire family had various explanations as to why the child was allegedly named after me.The first and most amusing one was that she was named after a favourite aunt.(give me a break,I am no ones favourite).A friend said that she was conceived in my home (the maths just didn't work out so we killed that).Most of the family went with the first one.I didn't react,didn't blog on this either as I wasn't sure what I am expected to feel.
Ha but the niece put it all to rest.She wanted to know what I felt about her daughters name(what can I say,except that since its my name it is obviously a wise choice).Then the big question was she named after me (she says yes) Last and final question...why me (hey that is still unanswered,because my clever niece is thinking up some wisecrack answer to that one.
Suffice to say that with my name to begin life with,what more can a child ask for!!!!!
Perhaps I should hop on my broomstick and take a trip to Australia and wave a magic wand.Me thinks its a good idea.
fishy tales
Things have gotten real fishy of late.To begin with the temperatures sored suddenly and the heat became unbearable.The first causality was diet,so as executive chef of our household I took the decision to ban chicken and red meat from our diet.That left sea food as the only option as we are not very fond of vegetables it has to be something that once swam or crawled.
Decision taken,the next stop was the fish stall.Now this is an interesting place.It smells to high heaven but has the most amazing variety of seafood.Pearl spot,trout,angelfish and the list is endless.There are fresh squids with their ink intact and prawns and lovely lobsters to die for.
The fun of being in a fish shop is to check all the fish out so I start with checking the gills,if they are not red then I refuse to buy them,next step is to plod the stomach,it has to be firm to the touch or the fish is not fresh.Its more of a ritual and all this ads to the fun of checking it all out.
Then I made the mistake of checking the price.Something very fishy has happened in this city.Prawns were the most expensive normally and this was one of those Sunday special treats,but with all the heat,the fish was selling at trice the price of prawns.Shocked out of my skin I quickly reversed my earlier rule of no red meat.Out of the shop in a hurry,I hurried to charm my butcher for a nice good piece of steak.Oh well I never was fishy so why start now.
Decision taken,the next stop was the fish stall.Now this is an interesting place.It smells to high heaven but has the most amazing variety of seafood.Pearl spot,trout,angelfish and the list is endless.There are fresh squids with their ink intact and prawns and lovely lobsters to die for.
The fun of being in a fish shop is to check all the fish out so I start with checking the gills,if they are not red then I refuse to buy them,next step is to plod the stomach,it has to be firm to the touch or the fish is not fresh.Its more of a ritual and all this ads to the fun of checking it all out.
Then I made the mistake of checking the price.Something very fishy has happened in this city.Prawns were the most expensive normally and this was one of those Sunday special treats,but with all the heat,the fish was selling at trice the price of prawns.Shocked out of my skin I quickly reversed my earlier rule of no red meat.Out of the shop in a hurry,I hurried to charm my butcher for a nice good piece of steak.Oh well I never was fishy so why start now.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
huff and puff and blow my weight down.
It seems like ages since I wrote anything but work kills creativity,that much I am sure about.When the phone rings at unearthly hours and its the boss on line,rest assured your day and week and month are all gone for a toss.Actually this ought to be the best time to blog but couldn't think of anything but work.Rather dull and when at a party,I look blank during conversation coz I was busy thinking of work,then for sure I have to climb back to being normal.
Whats normal I wonder.In my case it ought to be a full evening of shopping for goodies at the latest food store,but thanks to some well meaning friends who have conspired with the husband,food shopping is no longer on my list.They have done the unthinkable.I have been enrolled in a gym for three months.Heaven forbid I loose weight,it may become another three months.If that's not enough its an all woman gym so no hope of flirting or admiring well maintained bodies.Oh well it has its good points.For starters everyone is around 75 to 80 kgs on average so not to worry about being too fat.Everyone puffs and pants so again safety in numbers.Learning to use a skipping rope and run around like I did in school.Young chap (lone ,an in gym) is a task master so no let up in breaks.The body protests and cries in pain,the spirit is in two minds,but the friends and husband are not about to let go,so I dream of slim me in low waist jeans,chiffon sarees and all.Considering that I ve lost my appetite,drink green tea without sugar,have salades for lunch etc,I don't know myself anymore.Guess this is what they mean by the two faces of eve.
Whats normal I wonder.In my case it ought to be a full evening of shopping for goodies at the latest food store,but thanks to some well meaning friends who have conspired with the husband,food shopping is no longer on my list.They have done the unthinkable.I have been enrolled in a gym for three months.Heaven forbid I loose weight,it may become another three months.If that's not enough its an all woman gym so no hope of flirting or admiring well maintained bodies.Oh well it has its good points.For starters everyone is around 75 to 80 kgs on average so not to worry about being too fat.Everyone puffs and pants so again safety in numbers.Learning to use a skipping rope and run around like I did in school.Young chap (lone ,an in gym) is a task master so no let up in breaks.The body protests and cries in pain,the spirit is in two minds,but the friends and husband are not about to let go,so I dream of slim me in low waist jeans,chiffon sarees and all.Considering that I ve lost my appetite,drink green tea without sugar,have salades for lunch etc,I don't know myself anymore.Guess this is what they mean by the two faces of eve.
sms,chat and what have we
It dawned on me today that I am a fossil.I ought to be deep under the ground,transforming myself into a diamond but I cling to this modern world despite being clueless of its jargon,its short msg (hey I got that right) and all the rest of it.
It happened while chatting with a ten year old (behaves like and adult,thinks like one but is a child at heart) on gmail chat.It goes like this....heloooo (hello) byeeeeeee(bye but why so many e's,I think its supposed to mean something).K (what ever that means,is it his name or a short form for something else) lol (i would like to think this is lots of love but in mid sentence it doesnt fit in but shall delude myself) what lo (still trying to figure that one out.
The long and short of it is that I am now in the market for an sms dictionary and if anyone knows where I can get one please do call.Or should that be poc?!!!
It happened while chatting with a ten year old (behaves like and adult,thinks like one but is a child at heart) on gmail chat.It goes like this....heloooo (hello) byeeeeeee(bye but why so many e's,I think its supposed to mean something).K (what ever that means,is it his name or a short form for something else) lol (i would like to think this is lots of love but in mid sentence it doesnt fit in but shall delude myself) what lo (still trying to figure that one out.
The long and short of it is that I am now in the market for an sms dictionary and if anyone knows where I can get one please do call.Or should that be poc?!!!
Friday, June 22, 2007
corporate cat
I belong to a group of people who are best described as harried corporate executives with busy schedules and even busier lives,but it ends right there.I cant seem to fit myself into the rate race that's the corporate world.Guess thats because I see myself more as a cat than a rat.Oh well that's another story.
What really bring this on is a recent visit (official business please note) to some little town that required air travel and therefore the need to spend an hour in an airport lounge.If you belong in the rate race then its mandatory to get hold of a driver or a taxi to drive you to the airport in rush hour.I prefer whenever possible to drive to airport,(park car and pick it up on return). and no I am not listening to the latest update from the Economic Times.I am listening to old old Hindi music of Rafi and Kishore Kumar and enjoying braying along with the few words that my limited Hindi will permit.
Park the car and grab handbag ,enter check in and then to lounge for a cup of tea and watching people.Note (very important) I have only a handbag and a book to read.Everyone else in the rat race has a laptop and cell phone plugged into their ears (mine is in the handbag where I am sure I will have to search for it if and when it rings).So a cup of tea arrives and I take a good look around.Ninenty percent of the men and women in the lounge don't have time for tea.All laptops are open,phones plugged in,wireless plugged in and furious typing is on.I marvel at these people.What can be of such earth shattering importance that they have to handle it now.Cant they enjoy a cup of tea read the newspaper and generally have fun?.There is of course one person who decides to chat me up so we get talking and he wants to know why I am travelling so we discuss review meetings and general tit bits of corporate life and he suddenly notices that I am without a laptop,oh well you cant be a very stressed person,no laptop,what kind of review are you going for?.What I don't tell him is that old fashioned me has all the figures neatly re cored in pieces of paper in the handbag.Good enough for me.Remember I am not part of rat race.I am cat.
Enter plane.Find seat and open in flight magazine.All other persons are giving last minute instructions on cell phone(about what beats me).Flight in mid air and laptops come out again.I seriously suspect that this is just some ploy to fit into the pre determined profile of rat race person.Rather silly.I am watching lovely fluffy clouds pass by,eating junk food that passes for airline food and looking around to spot at least one interesting man (yet to spot on and have been flying for years).
Plane lands and everyone jumps up.It takes at least five minutes to deplane so why the hurry.I remain in my seat and cellphone in power off mode but everyone else has started instructions,messages etc etc.Everyone has that stressed look,everyone is power dressed and everyone is on official business.I am fabindia clad,lone handbag in hand and cellphone in power off mode and I am also part of the rat race but you see I am the cat in the rat race so as superior species,I just purr.....
What really bring this on is a recent visit (official business please note) to some little town that required air travel and therefore the need to spend an hour in an airport lounge.If you belong in the rate race then its mandatory to get hold of a driver or a taxi to drive you to the airport in rush hour.I prefer whenever possible to drive to airport,(park car and pick it up on return). and no I am not listening to the latest update from the Economic Times.I am listening to old old Hindi music of Rafi and Kishore Kumar and enjoying braying along with the few words that my limited Hindi will permit.
Park the car and grab handbag ,enter check in and then to lounge for a cup of tea and watching people.Note (very important) I have only a handbag and a book to read.Everyone else in the rat race has a laptop and cell phone plugged into their ears (mine is in the handbag where I am sure I will have to search for it if and when it rings).So a cup of tea arrives and I take a good look around.Ninenty percent of the men and women in the lounge don't have time for tea.All laptops are open,phones plugged in,wireless plugged in and furious typing is on.I marvel at these people.What can be of such earth shattering importance that they have to handle it now.Cant they enjoy a cup of tea read the newspaper and generally have fun?.There is of course one person who decides to chat me up so we get talking and he wants to know why I am travelling so we discuss review meetings and general tit bits of corporate life and he suddenly notices that I am without a laptop,oh well you cant be a very stressed person,no laptop,what kind of review are you going for?.What I don't tell him is that old fashioned me has all the figures neatly re cored in pieces of paper in the handbag.Good enough for me.Remember I am not part of rat race.I am cat.
Enter plane.Find seat and open in flight magazine.All other persons are giving last minute instructions on cell phone(about what beats me).Flight in mid air and laptops come out again.I seriously suspect that this is just some ploy to fit into the pre determined profile of rat race person.Rather silly.I am watching lovely fluffy clouds pass by,eating junk food that passes for airline food and looking around to spot at least one interesting man (yet to spot on and have been flying for years).
Plane lands and everyone jumps up.It takes at least five minutes to deplane so why the hurry.I remain in my seat and cellphone in power off mode but everyone else has started instructions,messages etc etc.Everyone has that stressed look,everyone is power dressed and everyone is on official business.I am fabindia clad,lone handbag in hand and cellphone in power off mode and I am also part of the rat race but you see I am the cat in the rat race so as superior species,I just purr.....
Thursday, June 14, 2007
c'est la vie
Change,I am not a great one for change but I am restless.It tires me the same old routine,get to office,check mail,read papers,throw weight around,deal with nice or not so nice customers,go home,get dinner ready (this part is therapy)read,listen to music,sleep and tomorrow is another day.
So I have had enough for now,the first step was to change the layout of this blog,it reflects my mood,from somber,serious blue its gone to good old orange.My favourite colour,actually any shade of orange,red etc....just the right colour to perk me up.
Today all my friends came back from their various holidays so that's good but when the disappear the do just that and like spam mail they disappear together so me,I am left to my own .
Have nothing to write about,that's how dull life has suddenly become.Oh well c'est la vie
So I have had enough for now,the first step was to change the layout of this blog,it reflects my mood,from somber,serious blue its gone to good old orange.My favourite colour,actually any shade of orange,red etc....just the right colour to perk me up.
Today all my friends came back from their various holidays so that's good but when the disappear the do just that and like spam mail they disappear together so me,I am left to my own .
Have nothing to write about,that's how dull life has suddenly become.Oh well c'est la vie
Thursday, June 07, 2007
rules are meant for breaking
Last week the government issued an ultimatum to all bike riders that they simply had to wear crash helmets.They also insisted all car users use their seat belts.I read it and dismissed it.These rules have come and gone a million times and no one follows it nor is it implemented .I was therefore pretty shocked to see almost everyone on their bikes wear helmets and the shops had long ques of people waiting to buy helmets.
I decided that an old hat like me should realise that the current lot of people are getting used to rules and will fall in line unlike some of us who believed rules are meant to be broken.This was becoming like other countries where people follow rules.
I went home happier that my world was becoming sensitive to security and safety,especially when the cop in front of our office has been crying himself silly trying to make people follow simple traffic rules.
The long and short of it was that for all my dreaming about a better world,it all shattered when non other than the chief minister himself diluted the rule the next day saying it was ok not to wear helmets.So its back to helmet less driving and so much for rules and discipline and the good world.
I decided that an old hat like me should realise that the current lot of people are getting used to rules and will fall in line unlike some of us who believed rules are meant to be broken.This was becoming like other countries where people follow rules.
I went home happier that my world was becoming sensitive to security and safety,especially when the cop in front of our office has been crying himself silly trying to make people follow simple traffic rules.
The long and short of it was that for all my dreaming about a better world,it all shattered when non other than the chief minister himself diluted the rule the next day saying it was ok not to wear helmets.So its back to helmet less driving and so much for rules and discipline and the good world.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Games elder sisters play
Almost all the furniture in our house is ancient.We didn't have the money to buy new stuff,but we also love old stuff so on all counts it turned out fine.
The first to arrive was a two seater settee and two chairs accompanied by a lovely hexagonal teapoy,all in dark burnished rosewood.(very typical furniture in most mallu households)This set is 57 years old and was the first piece of furniture that my parents bought after their wedding.Nothing romantic about that,my parents like true blood mallus are not romantic by any stretch of imagination.Like average Syrian Christian parents,they were pretty shocked when I picked up the old stuff in favour of the newer ones,but therein lies a tale.
Two elder sisters left in charge of a helpless child when the mother was taking an afternoon nap,is a recipe for disaster(i mean disaster for the poor child).My sisters had this game called "third class compartment".With the father being in the railways,we spent many hours on railway platforms(my fathers idea of being on time was to arrive at least an hour ahead of schedule) soaking in the sights and sounds and smells of the grand central.In the process we watched with great interest the scramble for seats in the unreserved third class compartment(it doesn't exist anymore).My sisters came home to the settee at home and converted this into the unreserved compartment,hence the name of the game.
My elder sister has a great imagination and everything has to look as real as possible,so jostling for space in a compartment can only be replicated if one has baggage to store.They would look around for baggage and they would find me.The elder sister would then take one of our mothers sarees,make a little sack out of it,dump me in and swing me across her shoulder.I had become baggage.The other sister would run across the room(their substitute for railway platform) and jump onto the settee,and with one big shove my elder sis and her baggage would have to struggle for balance.The settee creaked and shuddered while they threw abuses at each other(imitation of everything they heard while on the railway platform).They would settle down after much grumbling with poor me squashed into the back of the settee.They would them imagine and swing to imaginary movement of trains and when they had gotten tired of all this,the baggage would be dumped on the ground and I would have returned to being an useless child until the next game.
My second sister is a hairdresser who never made it (she had these aspirations as long as i was a willing Guinea pig.On afternoons when the railways game had been don't to death,they would convert the settee into a beauty shop (their name for it).I would be dumped on the chair,towel wrapped around me like a bib and they would get to work.They started by teasing my hair (their term for it)so a comb would run half way through the hair and they would tangle up all my baby curls to make me look like a birds best gone horribly wrong.The our mothers red max factor lipstick would come out and my mouth would turn into a big red gash.The lipstick would them be rubbed into my cheeks as rouge .Not satisfied,they would take an eye pencil and draw dark eyebrows and darken my eyes.I dare not make a sound (mother was taking a nap and I was at the mercy of the two).When all was done they would flourish a looking glass with great style in front of me and I had to smile and scrape the ground in eternal gratefulness for the masterpiece they had created.The before our mother woke up my elder sister(in this game is is assistant) would wash my face clean ,wipe it dry and look like angles before the poor mother got wise to any of the happenings of the afternoon
How could I possibly not take this little piece of history to my own flat.Its filled with a hundred memories and no new sofa however stylish would ever replace it.
The first to arrive was a two seater settee and two chairs accompanied by a lovely hexagonal teapoy,all in dark burnished rosewood.(very typical furniture in most mallu households)This set is 57 years old and was the first piece of furniture that my parents bought after their wedding.Nothing romantic about that,my parents like true blood mallus are not romantic by any stretch of imagination.Like average Syrian Christian parents,they were pretty shocked when I picked up the old stuff in favour of the newer ones,but therein lies a tale.
Two elder sisters left in charge of a helpless child when the mother was taking an afternoon nap,is a recipe for disaster(i mean disaster for the poor child).My sisters had this game called "third class compartment".With the father being in the railways,we spent many hours on railway platforms(my fathers idea of being on time was to arrive at least an hour ahead of schedule) soaking in the sights and sounds and smells of the grand central.In the process we watched with great interest the scramble for seats in the unreserved third class compartment(it doesn't exist anymore).My sisters came home to the settee at home and converted this into the unreserved compartment,hence the name of the game.
My elder sister has a great imagination and everything has to look as real as possible,so jostling for space in a compartment can only be replicated if one has baggage to store.They would look around for baggage and they would find me.The elder sister would then take one of our mothers sarees,make a little sack out of it,dump me in and swing me across her shoulder.I had become baggage.The other sister would run across the room(their substitute for railway platform) and jump onto the settee,and with one big shove my elder sis and her baggage would have to struggle for balance.The settee creaked and shuddered while they threw abuses at each other(imitation of everything they heard while on the railway platform).They would settle down after much grumbling with poor me squashed into the back of the settee.They would them imagine and swing to imaginary movement of trains and when they had gotten tired of all this,the baggage would be dumped on the ground and I would have returned to being an useless child until the next game.
My second sister is a hairdresser who never made it (she had these aspirations as long as i was a willing Guinea pig.On afternoons when the railways game had been don't to death,they would convert the settee into a beauty shop (their name for it).I would be dumped on the chair,towel wrapped around me like a bib and they would get to work.They started by teasing my hair (their term for it)so a comb would run half way through the hair and they would tangle up all my baby curls to make me look like a birds best gone horribly wrong.The our mothers red max factor lipstick would come out and my mouth would turn into a big red gash.The lipstick would them be rubbed into my cheeks as rouge .Not satisfied,they would take an eye pencil and draw dark eyebrows and darken my eyes.I dare not make a sound (mother was taking a nap and I was at the mercy of the two).When all was done they would flourish a looking glass with great style in front of me and I had to smile and scrape the ground in eternal gratefulness for the masterpiece they had created.The before our mother woke up my elder sister(in this game is is assistant) would wash my face clean ,wipe it dry and look like angles before the poor mother got wise to any of the happenings of the afternoon
How could I possibly not take this little piece of history to my own flat.Its filled with a hundred memories and no new sofa however stylish would ever replace it.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Ashes to ashes,dust to dust
"My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my sense"Couldn't have been more appropriate for my mood.Shes dead now two days and I am not sure what I feel.We lost touch a few years ago but the memories of a friend are good.Lots of laughter,her wide smile,her backward slant writing and the many letters exchanges during college holidays all come back to haunt.
I remember we met up again some years ago and marvelled at how we had grown sideways.We talked of old time ,had a cup of tea and parted ways.She on her kinetic Honda,me pillion,wind blowing through our hair as we shouted out our conversation.
I don't know what I feel,shock,emptiness,nothing.....I cannot say,all I know is that one more person on my friend list has turned to dust and I have nothing to say.
I remember we met up again some years ago and marvelled at how we had grown sideways.We talked of old time ,had a cup of tea and parted ways.She on her kinetic Honda,me pillion,wind blowing through our hair as we shouted out our conversation.
I don't know what I feel,shock,emptiness,nothing.....I cannot say,all I know is that one more person on my friend list has turned to dust and I have nothing to say.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Meeting Ms Kalambi
She is 84 and a friend of mine.No not my parents friend but mine.I would like to be like her when I reach that age (the rate at which the weighing sale swings I doubt I will live to see the day)
She arrived in Madras at 12 noon on a day when the temperature was 43 degrees and rising.Dressed in a sunshine yellow saree and a bag that she could fit into herself she got off the train.I haven't seen her in two years but she remains the same.Small bright and always full of beans.
I have known her for some 20 years now.At a time when tenants in Bombay were famous for squatting on premises,she worked her way into the courtrooms for 15 years to fight for what was hers.The rest of the family were ready to give up,the tenant was convinced she would be dead long before a verdict was given but she stayed on.Day in and day out come hell or high tide,she was in court.She won the case and got her flat back.I went to stay with her them and her happiness was infectious.
Her husband died and we watched carefully for the first signs of depression,but she took it in her stride.After the initial shock she picked up the pieces and started a new life.It took her on a journey to far flung lands on countless airlines with only a sister in law for company or alone.No distance could stop her,she was determined to see the world,enjoy life as long as it lasted.
Two years ago I was in Bombay and looked her up.She rushed around her newly remodelled kitchen,cooking up lunch for me.We ate and talked of old time,of our favourite past time .We had spent many hours in Pune talking and speculating about her neighbours,the young,the rich ,the old and the dull ones.
Our paths crossed again last weekend.I was to pick her up at the station and bring her home.She was famous for getting on the wrong train,famous also for finding it most amusing while her family and I rushed around wondering what could have happened to her.She would turn up and act like it was a done thing to get lost.Her family co ordinated her comings and goings with me over the weekend and I ensured that I was at the station half an hour ahead of schedule to catch her before she vanished.She arrived home to find my husband and his friend drinking chilled beer to beat the heat.While I drank water she seated herself at the dining table and ordered a beer.She preferred whiskey but decided that beer was better in the heat.I watch amused as my friend poured out the beer with great care and gave it to her.She them got on to chat with them on all kinds of subjects.
I had the most delightful weekend with my 84 year old friend and when I left her in the good hands of a flight attendant she was already planning her next trip.
She is a woman I will never forget
She arrived in Madras at 12 noon on a day when the temperature was 43 degrees and rising.Dressed in a sunshine yellow saree and a bag that she could fit into herself she got off the train.I haven't seen her in two years but she remains the same.Small bright and always full of beans.
I have known her for some 20 years now.At a time when tenants in Bombay were famous for squatting on premises,she worked her way into the courtrooms for 15 years to fight for what was hers.The rest of the family were ready to give up,the tenant was convinced she would be dead long before a verdict was given but she stayed on.Day in and day out come hell or high tide,she was in court.She won the case and got her flat back.I went to stay with her them and her happiness was infectious.
Her husband died and we watched carefully for the first signs of depression,but she took it in her stride.After the initial shock she picked up the pieces and started a new life.It took her on a journey to far flung lands on countless airlines with only a sister in law for company or alone.No distance could stop her,she was determined to see the world,enjoy life as long as it lasted.
Two years ago I was in Bombay and looked her up.She rushed around her newly remodelled kitchen,cooking up lunch for me.We ate and talked of old time,of our favourite past time .We had spent many hours in Pune talking and speculating about her neighbours,the young,the rich ,the old and the dull ones.
Our paths crossed again last weekend.I was to pick her up at the station and bring her home.She was famous for getting on the wrong train,famous also for finding it most amusing while her family and I rushed around wondering what could have happened to her.She would turn up and act like it was a done thing to get lost.Her family co ordinated her comings and goings with me over the weekend and I ensured that I was at the station half an hour ahead of schedule to catch her before she vanished.She arrived home to find my husband and his friend drinking chilled beer to beat the heat.While I drank water she seated herself at the dining table and ordered a beer.She preferred whiskey but decided that beer was better in the heat.I watch amused as my friend poured out the beer with great care and gave it to her.She them got on to chat with them on all kinds of subjects.
I had the most delightful weekend with my 84 year old friend and when I left her in the good hands of a flight attendant she was already planning her next trip.
She is a woman I will never forget
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
recipes for lazy people
chicken and rum
boneless chicken cut into thin strips-about a cup
sliced onions-about 4 good size ones
pepper and salt to taste
rum-3 spoons
soy sauce-1 spoon
cornflour or maida-3 spoons
olive oil or any other for frying
mix rum,soy,pepper,salt and maida to a smooth paste.If its too liquid,add more flour.Mix chicken strips to coat evenly
heat oil to smoking and add coated chicken,fry to deep brown and keep aside.
in the remaining oil,saute onions to golden brown.add chicken to onions and toss.Wash out remaining marinade with rum and add to chicken and onions.Simmer on low flame till its a thick consistency.Garnish with available herbs or chopped spring onions and serve hot with steamed rice.
boneless chicken cut into thin strips-about a cup
sliced onions-about 4 good size ones
pepper and salt to taste
rum-3 spoons
soy sauce-1 spoon
cornflour or maida-3 spoons
olive oil or any other for frying
mix rum,soy,pepper,salt and maida to a smooth paste.If its too liquid,add more flour.Mix chicken strips to coat evenly
heat oil to smoking and add coated chicken,fry to deep brown and keep aside.
in the remaining oil,saute onions to golden brown.add chicken to onions and toss.Wash out remaining marinade with rum and add to chicken and onions.Simmer on low flame till its a thick consistency.Garnish with available herbs or chopped spring onions and serve hot with steamed rice.
food for little people
Chicken spread
Boiled chicken -1 cup
mayonnaise-4 spoons
herbs(mint,cilantro etc)-chopped fine about 3 spoons.
salt and pepper to taste
shred chicken in blender with mayo,salt and pepper.Add chopped herbs and mix to smooth paste.Spread on toast or spoon with nachos.Serve chilled (tastes better)
Boiled chicken -1 cup
mayonnaise-4 spoons
herbs(mint,cilantro etc)-chopped fine about 3 spoons.
salt and pepper to taste
shred chicken in blender with mayo,salt and pepper.Add chopped herbs and mix to smooth paste.Spread on toast or spoon with nachos.Serve chilled (tastes better)
40 and going strong
Everywhere i look in this country there are young people.Youth is the big buzz word.In my parents time 58 or 65 was retirement,today at 40 one is over the hill.Never mind that there is a wealth of experience,or that we took are time to go through stages in life and are therefore better equipped to handle things.I would like to think that some of us of 40 plus are classic french cuisine while the new lot is typical American fast food that looks great but causes enough damage to ones system.
Go to Europe and one finds that there are more people of 40 plus who are busy working enjoying life and generally very much part of mainstream.Get into a western airline and you will find air hostesses one can believe in.They look like they can handle a crisis.Come to India and air hostesses can smile and wish you but I would hate to be in a crash with the likes of them.
The call centre culture irks me.Not only are they devoid of thinking powers,they do tend to sound like stuff out of an assembly line.Why oh why do we pay so much for mediocrity?
In my time we had the fun of rushing around in public transport,being casual,eating and drinking was also part of a variety of stuff we did,read go for a play,visit friends,party.Pubs and hardcore drinking wasn't part of our lives but that did not mean we were square.We had our fair share of ups and downs and we handled it without the help of a call centre.If we got lost,we found our way without the help of Google or the cell phone.We played games,walked for miles and didn't need an ipod or mp3 player for company.
Wow I like the good old days of balance and happiness when individuals had individuality and character.Thank god I am in my 40s and escaped the dumb world of the 20 something.
Go to Europe and one finds that there are more people of 40 plus who are busy working enjoying life and generally very much part of mainstream.Get into a western airline and you will find air hostesses one can believe in.They look like they can handle a crisis.Come to India and air hostesses can smile and wish you but I would hate to be in a crash with the likes of them.
The call centre culture irks me.Not only are they devoid of thinking powers,they do tend to sound like stuff out of an assembly line.Why oh why do we pay so much for mediocrity?
In my time we had the fun of rushing around in public transport,being casual,eating and drinking was also part of a variety of stuff we did,read go for a play,visit friends,party.Pubs and hardcore drinking wasn't part of our lives but that did not mean we were square.We had our fair share of ups and downs and we handled it without the help of a call centre.If we got lost,we found our way without the help of Google or the cell phone.We played games,walked for miles and didn't need an ipod or mp3 player for company.
Wow I like the good old days of balance and happiness when individuals had individuality and character.Thank god I am in my 40s and escaped the dumb world of the 20 something.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Fun,friends forever
Partying is hardly my kind of fun,but when I take the trouble to go all the way from Chennai to Mumbai just to attend a party,you guess its serious stuff.
Actually not,its was an invite that came too late but promised to be interesting so why not go over and check it out.Interesting it was,the rest of my weekend also turned out to be great fun and I let my hair down after ages.
The party was a reunion of sorts.Normally reunions are confined to school and college but this one was different in every way.
To begin with it was the brainchild of three or four people who had worked in a company for the better part of their lives.They discovered that most of what they had learnt in their professional lives could be attributed to the culture of this company they had worked for.As discussions progressed they discovered that there were hoards of people who had done exactly what they had,spent around 15 to 20 years with one company,grew up the ranks,shared the many ups and downs of corporate life and lived to enjoy every moment until one fine day the culture changed and everything else with it so at different points people left to greener pastures.Some left in haste,some in anger,some with warmth,some with respect but a lot of people made a shift.
Over the years a single common cord bound a lot of us,we had the common experience of this company and we had built long lasting relationships.Strangely the entire experience revolved around one person.All of us related to this person in different ways.He was the leader.Some of us quaked in our shoes when he arrives,some of us lit up when he was around,but whatever the experience we loved,admired and respected this person so much and benefited from our experiences so well that a reunion seemed like a fitting occasion to meet and chat.
It was slated to start at 8pm on Friday but like the unwritten code in Mumbai we all arrived fashionably late.We had changed in many ways but the group had many high achievers.People who head businesses around the country,entrepreneurs,home makers etc.It was a formidable pool of talent,it was also a formidable pool of people who knew how to have a good time,share a laugh,yell scream,sing and generally go a bit wild.
In the semi dark environment with the background of thumping music we managed to recognise erstwhile colleagues,fall into arms of friends we had lost touch with,do the usual exchange of visiting cards,network and raise a toast.
It was great fun and by the end of the evening we had all found people who we shared experiences with, and across Mumbai a thousand odd people touched base and stayed connected well after the party was over.
It took so little to experience so much.
Actually not,its was an invite that came too late but promised to be interesting so why not go over and check it out.Interesting it was,the rest of my weekend also turned out to be great fun and I let my hair down after ages.
The party was a reunion of sorts.Normally reunions are confined to school and college but this one was different in every way.
To begin with it was the brainchild of three or four people who had worked in a company for the better part of their lives.They discovered that most of what they had learnt in their professional lives could be attributed to the culture of this company they had worked for.As discussions progressed they discovered that there were hoards of people who had done exactly what they had,spent around 15 to 20 years with one company,grew up the ranks,shared the many ups and downs of corporate life and lived to enjoy every moment until one fine day the culture changed and everything else with it so at different points people left to greener pastures.Some left in haste,some in anger,some with warmth,some with respect but a lot of people made a shift.
Over the years a single common cord bound a lot of us,we had the common experience of this company and we had built long lasting relationships.Strangely the entire experience revolved around one person.All of us related to this person in different ways.He was the leader.Some of us quaked in our shoes when he arrives,some of us lit up when he was around,but whatever the experience we loved,admired and respected this person so much and benefited from our experiences so well that a reunion seemed like a fitting occasion to meet and chat.
It was slated to start at 8pm on Friday but like the unwritten code in Mumbai we all arrived fashionably late.We had changed in many ways but the group had many high achievers.People who head businesses around the country,entrepreneurs,home makers etc.It was a formidable pool of talent,it was also a formidable pool of people who knew how to have a good time,share a laugh,yell scream,sing and generally go a bit wild.
In the semi dark environment with the background of thumping music we managed to recognise erstwhile colleagues,fall into arms of friends we had lost touch with,do the usual exchange of visiting cards,network and raise a toast.
It was great fun and by the end of the evening we had all found people who we shared experiences with, and across Mumbai a thousand odd people touched base and stayed connected well after the party was over.
It took so little to experience so much.
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