New year

what is it about atmosphere and expectations.Thirty first of December is just another day followed by the first of Jan,but despite that we treat it so differently.There is something in the air,expectations of many dreams to come true,the feeling of deep depression for the things past and for the pains that await us as life passes on to another year.I told myself that i would take it in my stride just like any other day,but I refused to see the doctor despite being a bit under the weather because i don't want to start the new year with medication,I am feeling sad because someone i know is dying and i know how that felt two years ago.The memory being too fresh.I look forward in anticipation of good things to come.I know that on the second of Jan everything will settle back into routine,but i still can figure what it is about this day that brings together such conflicting emotions.Why do we feel the need to be with loved ones on Christmas and new year,why do we want to party with our friends,why do we make that fancy lunch (this time my fridge is empty,because i want to be different)and why do we make the effort to be different on this day.The end of the year and the beginning of a new one,but we see so many beginnings and so many ends.....I wonder if i will ever get to feel that this day is just another one....and while i am on it i may as well tell you that resolutions have never been my strong point but i shall make one.....not to lend my books to friends who refuse to return them and on that note here's to a great year ahead

the year that way

Its almost the end of the year and as one more year rolls by and as we get a year older I like looking back and taking stock of the year that was.When we started 2009 I remember the husband telling me that this would be a good year.We had left behind sickness and death of 2008 and were looking forward to a year of less stress and more happiness.It started well with the house being full of guest and so much of fun and noise.My sisters stay meant that the husband and I were able to be off on some outing or the other which we find relaxing.It was also a year when the husband followed in my footsteps and gave up full time work.After a year of seeing each other in airports or on the weekend,this was a great time for us to be back in each others company.If we had any apprehensions of being under each others feet,then well it wasn't to be.Over months we found our little place in the scheme of things and it was comforting to just have him around.All his financial planning for our joint retirement paid off.We took off to the UK at the spur of the moment(unlike most people who plan in advance)for three weeks for a great holiday.We didn't have to worry about asking for leave,we didn't have to come back to the stress of corporate life and the feeling of freedom and happiness give the holiday a different twist altogether.Our unexpected visit to Scotland and meeting up with an old friend (who never stays in touch and whom we had given up as lost) were memories we shall always cherish.My sister who normally is expected in December,decided to come back in august so another long drive to Bangalore became possible.We had sold our trophy car earlier this year and despite what everyone else said we thought it was a wise decision.Not having to live up to an image meant that the small car served us well and it gave me a chance to drive on the highway(i am so nervous with big cars that i have been a passenger on highways so far).Bangalore also helped me to acquire a new skill.After all these years i mastered cycling and enjoyed going around my sister in laws community colony with the wind blowing in my hair and the feeling of being on air.

Some concerns of my mothers health existed when she fractured her shoulder but with the care and time we can give her now its all worked out.She is back in the kitchen (a place she is most happy at) and the food she churns out has the husband hankering about me writing a book.Seeing the movie Julia and Julia only makes him believe his wife is the future Julia child.Well perhaps in the next year.I managed to do many interesting jobs this year,and find that the lack of routine give me the chance to explore what i really like to do.Towards the end of the year we had our friends visit us with their kids.Considering we haven't seen them for at least ten years this was a great time to catch up and regroup with plans to meet more often.Our niece and here children are back in India and the husband has enjoyed playing with the kids who talk nineteen to the dozen.

When the Christmas tree is up and the house reverberates with Christmas carols,i realise its time to give thanks for a year of joy and happiness,of a new chapter in our live,for the joy of having our mother with us and seeing her do well,to have our friends visit us,to see that after all the time the husband and i spent together this year has been a great learning time and we hope the next year brings more happiness

The Eco project

some of us like to believe that we are socially responsible,environmentally friendly but are stoped dead in our tracks by red tape and bureaucracy.Is this an excuse for inaction or just the cynic in us talking.I have long been a great out door person in love with flora and fauna.My contribution to climate change and global warming is to create a little green space in a balcony that can only accommodate my plants and me provided i hold my breadth.I have expanded my plant collection to the terrace and have collected all my kitchen waste to create compost for my garden to be sustainable.But having said that I have don't very little for the community and environment i live in.I have long fantasied about working as a gardener or with the world wild live association to be close to animals.All that like i mentioned remained a pipe dream.I seriously believed that this could only happen if i lived in Europe or in the hills of India.Today at 10 am which is early by my standards,i dragged myself off to a meeting of civic groups who are concerned about the environment.I met people who have been doing work in the city and good work at that despite the many hurdles that have come their way.I walked around the adyar poonga(which i didn't know existed) the once hotbed of vice and now a haven for migrating birds and fish.Mangrove trees have been planted in the salty areas,spaces to sit and enjoy the breeze and there are people who are actively involved in technology updates for the environment,audits of birds and trees and community and student groups who network for best practices.I discovered that my long lived ambition of being a gardener can happen if i volunteered to this project.I could plant trees,and learn more.I can then join like minded groups to study wild life birds etc and to explore the great outdoors within my city.I spent at least five hours in this place listening to the things that various groups have been able to achieve.I saw first hand the development that is happening and met a whole bunch of interesting people.Needless to say i came back home with my eyes wide open.There is action on the ground and i can be a part of it.So i am looking forward to the next step and hope to be part of the movement.It made me realise that i need to make time to explore the city i live in and to network with the people and projects that are truly after my own heart.Dreaming and not doing is an excuse which i cant afford to hide behind any more.Will it work?....well i am not sure but like its said nothing ventured,nothing gained right?

That green tea experience

The world is full of people tasting cheese,wine tea,luxury etc and everyone adds their own mystery to the thing on hand.I watch people describe wine in glowing terms,they talk of fruit,flowers woody and they then go into detail of the kind of fruit and flowers.Honestly while all that is fine,I wonder how much is dictated by geography.For instance,if one lives in Europe then wont they know the sent of different flowers the flavours of fruit native to that country?.If you told me the wine tasted of oak and peat i would blink simply because i have no clue what an oak smells like or peat for that matter,but tell me the wine tastes like jack fruit or mango and i would then know how to distinguish a good wine from a bad one.Cheese the same thing,the cows in France eat grass of a different quality,how am i to identify the taste,and frankly speaking i don't trust the people in my country who claim to be experts,one simply has to live in wine and cheese producing countries for a longish period to understand.So whats my point really?.Well today i tasted a green tea from china.Now the east is pretty similar in geography so i don't feel clueless.Having spent many a holiday on tea estates I can with a fair degree of knowledge talk of tea.This packed of tea was given to me by a friend who visited china.The leaves were tightly packed and looked like dried flowers.I boiled some hot water,threw in some tea leaves and let it infuse.After a few minutes I poured out the tea.The leaves by now has unwound themselves and looked more like neen leaves but the flavour was what took me by surprise.It kind of burst into multiple flavours in my mouth.Suddenly i was transported to rain drenched paddy fields,damp attics which hold unlimited potential for food and treasures,it tickled my senses and i could smell flowers.Its strange,this was my taste buds speaking but my nose seemed to be communicating with my mouth and jasmine,rose and some familiar but unknown flavours were mingling in my mouth.It was a sublime experience,this was what the wine experts talk about,here i was drinking green tea and i could see the hills,smell the damp earth and taste the air and the fragrances all just in one cup of tea.Its then that i realised how important geography was to all this mystery.Kerala and tea estates,long lost memories of childhood very similar to cultures of Chinese villages.So there is no mystery to taste ultimately its a question of experience,of countries explored and of food adventures undertaken.I went back to my green tea again after dinner and once again it was back.This is why food and drink and so much a part of who i am.It is an expression of who one is....

gym tales

She works out with a vengeance.Fat oozes from every pore and she runs cycles and looks famished.I had to know what she did so some gentle questions later i realise that she has been ripped off.She is on a diet that consists of fruits one day,horse gram another and bread on another.No tea or coffee.And the poor thing has lost weight and is tired.Consider this....lets suppose she does loose a few kilos.....can you believe living a life on pulses grams and fruits(not the tasty ones by the way).I would image that its better to be fat and happy than be thin and hungry.After all if there is only one life why not enjoy it.Oh but then i haven't told you the other side.She feeds on pizza(not the Mediterranean variety mind you),fast food of the likes of KFC and MC Donald's.Ghee and lots of rice and generally ever thing that one shouldn't be eating or at least eating in moderation.Unfortunately she is young and didn't have the fun that someone of my age has had.Good home cooked food,lots of climbing trees and playing in the sun and not putting on any weight till the big 4.Sad but true.This is progress and i cant help but feel a big smug that at my age i can afford to have a bit of the middle age spread.Thank god it came only in middle age and not before

The fat and thin of it

Discipline,not one of my strong points(mind you i have very few of them...strong points i mean)but then again,its been two years now and i have i must admit been rather regular at the gym.Two reasons,one sheer guilt(when one shells out that kind of money,guilt will follow),the other is that i can enter shops try out clothes and no go into depression(never mind that i am visiting plus size shops).To be so regular is new to me,but then again the papers and tv are so full of good health exercise,diet and what have you that i could give a lecture of the power of exercise and one would believe i am an expert.Unfortunately,like all things intangible,there are no rights and wrongs or so it seems.So one day they tell me to tuck my stomach in(very important for a good work out).What they don't tell you is that if ones stomach arrives before the rest of the body,then chances are that no amount of tucking in is going to make a difference.I never know if the stomach is tucked in because there is too much to tuck.Well when i protest loudly they tell me not to worry,it seems that the body stores fat around the stomach.No one bothers to tell me why some of the real big built woman in other parts of the world don't have the same problem(marks and spencers have gad jets or rather inner wear to deal with this problem).The solution however according to one trainer is to do ab crunches or exercises for the stomach.I try and try and get out of breadth.When that fails the next girl tells me that increase in cardio exercises will burn fat and therefore the stomach will disappear.So i run and jump and row and horror or horrors,the stomach which looked like it was on the verge of disappearing.....actually came back.Now unfortunately the smart trainers at the gym have worked on my upper body and lower body.They always leave the difficult parts(middle) to the end.And now i am left with skinny legs,muscular arms(i can put weightlifters to shame) and a stomach that arrives in a room a few hours before the rest of the body.Is this a bad situation or just plain funny.The jury is still out on that one.Unfortunately i have signed up for another year(thanks to one of those limited offers)and i wonder now what i will look like a year down the line.Honestly for the kind of money i spend trying,i might as well head to London,invest in one of those smart pieces of clothing which actually make one look slim and be done with it.And to think i developed discipline in the process.Guess like they say,there are some clouds with silver linings...huff and puff

mothers and daughters

My mother has this standard saying every time i argue with her,that when i reach her stage in life i will understand.I keep telling her that's not true but of late i have been forced to keep quiet.I have seen it and realise that she is so right.I have a reasonably close knit family but some of us tend to be detached.But as we reach each stage in life I see history repeating itself.One of my sisters is the totally detached type or at least projects that image,and she is the first of us to be going through the stages that my mother has already experienced.To see her with her grandchildren is a study in contrast to the mother she was.With her own children I remember my mother nagging her about attention,attending to the children's needs and them exchanging different points of view on parenting and agreeing on very few.My mother on the other hand indulged her grandchildren to the level of making them spoilt brats (only when they were in her house).Full circle now and I see the differences in my sisters interactions with her daughter and grand children.She is like my mother an indulgent grandmother but unlike my mother who rode rough shod over her daughters rules,to establish her own grandmother rules,my sister is a silent spectator to her daughters rules.The rules being so strict that in the long run,these very children will never experience the enriching experience of being grand children in an Indian environment.Not for them the pampering and spoiling,not for them the breaking of rules with grandparents.But the bright side to this is that my sister has probably become closer to her mother.I see the change,suddenly she calls a lot more,she spends a lot more time with her mother and the bonds are so much closer.Did it take a parents death,the process of moving on to the next stage in life,the relationship of her own daughter being around....what was it that changed.My mother obviously has here basics right.Her daughter is going through what she went through at that age and together they have experiences to share.Do we tell her daughter all this or do we wait for her to realise that there are times in life that cannot be relived.Do we tell her that it takes maturity to be able to bend the rules depending on the situation without loosing out on basic discipline.Do we draw attention to the hurt one sees in peoples faces when those rules are enforced so ruthlessly.Or do we just wait for her to reach that stage and realise that life is about flexibility,its about enjoying the moment?.I stand on the sidelines and watch at changing rules of relationship and somewhere i see a loss of spontaneity,of a free life and at the same time the gains of a closer relationship.Like all things in life there are two sides to everything and its just possible that mothers always know whats right for you....

Awards and the men

The big news is that Barack Obama won the Nobel prize for peace and half the world is divided on weather he deserves it or not.I think its a good thing that there is so much debate,it means that much as we admire him we still have the objectivity notice when someone is overrated.But having said that,what are awards all about.Take for instance the awards given for movies,entertainment and corporate excellence.How many of those are really well deserved.In the final analysis its not so much what you achieve but what the world at large thinks you have achieved.This is done by saying all the right things,being constantly in the lime light,marketing oneself to the people who matter and if you don't do all of that,it doesn't matter how brilliant one is.Why do we get so worked up anyway,we ought to be used to it by now,after all the world has been this way for as long as i can remember.We play to the gallery.Of course the debate will keep the media around the world buzzing until they get the next big story.Lessons to be learnt early and if Obama award comes too soon,lets hope that he is man enough to understand that and up his time frames a bit.Sometime there are good things that come out of every situation.That will be the noble thing to do

The kitchen goddess

Some days the whole mood is one of a rush hour kind of job,i am suddenly all motivated and ready to move but then again its almost always in the head and in dreams.We had the most wonderful beef fry for lunch,made by the mother who is a bit of a master chef.Now having lived with her almost all my life,its natural that i am her only student.Everyday we make the most ordinary but tasty food and everything is a memory of some sort.Chicken brings back my dad lessons on how to kill and dress a chicken.I was fascinated by the blood and gore but he believed that unless we dressed a chicken ourselves we would never appreciate its true taste.Like wise many other things come back to mind.Now the husband is a powerhouse of ideas so he insists that i write a book in collaboration with the mother.Is there an idea there,sometimes i think there is.After all if its interesting to someone like him (who hasn't the faintest idea of cooking) then there probably a big idea there.He insists that i need to do some research,write a recipe a day along with all the little bits that are interesting.Now is that how everyone starts,i honestly don't know but am truly tempted to give the idea a thought.It may change my life and my mothers.It may be interesting and if it doesn't become a book,it will still be on record long enough for me to become as good as my mother who is a kitchen goddess of sorts

Worshiping dependence

Dependence,a trait we worship.In my family as in many other Indian families,this is considered a virtue.Parents believe its their birthright to be looked after by children,and children believe that parents are there to provide for everything.We are taught from an early age to be helpless,so none of us are taught to do all the basic household work,cook clean etc because there are servants to do it or as in the case of men,there are mothers and sisters to do all the dirty work.Which is why when we go abroad we are all at sea for a few months.In any of our cities,we will be forced to ask for directions,(there are no maps and signboards are not self explanatory)and we always look for human contact.What this does in the long run is to make us not take responsibility for our lives.Most woman will depend on parents and then on husbands and then on their children.Men will depend in quiet the same way.Now comes the big issue.Suddenly we find ourselves old and helpless(not in the physical sense).The children leave home and the parents are at a loose end,and then start all the medical problems,the loneliness and so on.My mother is a classic example.All her life she depended on my father despite all the grumbling of how bad a husband he was.Now she depends on me so my otherwise shrewd and intelligent mother will act completely helpless when she is out of the house.She will stare blankly at the doctor,refuse to tell him her symptoms or problems and generally act so stupid that I worry that she is loosing her mind.She will react slowly to my high decibel instructions and generally give me the jitters.Finally when we arrive home,the same woman will take control,her step will become more confident,she will get into the kitchen and cook a meal,and generally run the house.The long and short of it is that she really believes that all decisions outside of the kitchen (even if its related to her life) have to be made by me.I have been handed the responsibility and that's it.How different from another cousin who at 73 is busy winning medals at all senior citizen events,who plays tennis for two hours everyday and is generally as busy as any of us.Take for instance another lady who is currently in the hospital,very much in control of her life,despite having three children(who are not in the country) but who believes that she is quiet capable thank you very much.She has no choice so she has taken charge of her life.My mother is hardly a minority.There are so many woman like her in this country to whom dependence makes them old before their time,who set themselves up for disappointment,who refuse to take charge and believe there is life outside of the house,things to do after the husband passes on and a life to live again.Call it what you will but i find the whole set up sad and a waste of good human resources.But they cant be blamed either,our country is not geared to look after old people,we do not believe that they should have a life after 70 so we don't give them the infrastructure,or the emotional support to take charge.I look at ageing populations in the west and think we need to learn and learn fast.Youth will not be eternal

Giving it all up

Its happened again,one of my friends of many years decided to give up a promising career and become a home bird.Her excuse….well she has moved on to the next phase in life.Most people think she is crazy to give it all up and in a city where you are defined by the company you keep,this couldn’t have been easy but it shows strength of character and courage.She is one in a line of many men and woman who have given up a corporate career after some twenty odd years,to either do something on their own or to just stop and smell the roses so to speak.Ofcourse everyone tells us that we will hate it after a while,that there are so many good years left etc etc.I ask myself if this is true and the answer is not in black and white.Infact the answer if there is one is all about what suits one at any given time.Do we lack ambition?.I doubt it.Infact I think we are so ambitious that we choose to pursue the things that matter in this life.We realise that quiet often life is lived in blocks,so we pass on as students to working people,to parenthood,marriage and all those many roles that some or all of us play.It brings a certain skill to each role,so at one point in life we work on all of them,we learn to multitask and run around like there is no tomorrow and that’s because these are the years when we can afford to do these things,when our energy levels are at their hightest,when all we think of is getting there and arriving in style.Then we get to our goals and we also realise that in life,there are moments to be enjoyed without looking over ones shoulder to other responsibilities,we have reached a certain position in our work life,we may have made some decent investments and packed off a bit for retirement but we haven’t reached that age as yet.We are too young to retire and too old to run around with fuel in our bellies.Now it’s a smouldering fire and like a slow roasted meal,we want to slow down,we need to do things at our pace,we need that freedom to decide what we want to do in the next stage.Its not easy to arrive at this point because the conveyor belt never stops.We need to know where to get off.Yes we do get bored,we do have our moments when we question it all but then again,we did that in the last phase too so nothings new.The roar has settled down and we smoulder with other need,other wants and other things to do.Some of us think we are giving it up for our children,or for out old parents,but lets not pretend,we really do it for our selves,we do it because some times in life the children and the old people become important for us.We do it because we feel a sense of responsibility,we also do it because at the end of the day it makes us better human beings,its gives us our new project,it revitalises out life and we do it because like all ambitious people we have to be in the thick of everything.We cant go through life just satisfied with one phase.This is who we are and this is why we give it all up when we feel the time is right for us.It takes courage but life is always lived best when we have the courage to follow our inner voices.This is dedicated to all those like minded people who did what I did and live to tell their tale.

Hermit....me?

I am cut out to be a hermit or so I think.The point is that right now i am more than happy with the limited human contact that i have.It has its advantages.I don't have to dress up(as in wear nice formal clothes) comb my hair,wear makeup etc.I can lounge in baggy comfortable clothes and read my books,eat my meals and potter around in my half food balcony garden(where there is hardly any space for me to stand).

Unfortunately one cant live like a hermit in a big city and its only natural that from time to time visitors(uninvited and invited) do drop in.Today is one such day.The guest in question are not guests in that sense,they are close relatives except that one part of the family is of a different nationality.Now i have promised to provide dinner and then my problems began.The foreign part of the family cant handle too much spice,the children either so the green chillies have to be limited.However the large majority loves spice so what exactly am i to do.In the interests of good manners and good Indian hospitality we defer in favour of the minority so the food will be fairly bland,the house will be spruced up and the setting formal and there will be desert(never served in my house with any meal).

Which brings me to the next part of my thinking.We always manage to defer in favour of the minority and i cannot understand why.So when vegetarians come home for a meal we always ensure that no meat or fish is cooked at home for at least twenty four hours lest the smells upset them.When children come we pull out all the little things we have by way of entertainment(and we have very little as this house is child proof).We have chairs and sofas,when we would actually like cushions on the floor and mats,but we might have elderly people come over who would find it difficult to sit on the floor(the elderly we know cant even climb stairs so there is hardly a question of them visiting) and so on we go making concessions as we go along.Today is one of those days and i still cant figure why my house cant have that untidy but lived in look(after all they are family) and why do i have to look presentable and why do i have to bring out the best china.Actually if i ask myself that question....well no one asked me to do anything out of the ordinary but i choose to do it because somewhere there is an unwritten rule that says its must be done this way.....oh well this is where i wish i could be a hermit and be left alone....do i really?hmm its a thought

The Tube

We grew up in a pretty simple world,not much competition and a simple childhood(we actually had a childhood).But by the time I got to be older the world had changed and become competitive,one had to have all kinds of skills to just survive.I always thought of myself as being pretty good with directions.I can find my way around most places and even if i get lost I will eventually return to the right place thanks to some questions to passers by.Unfortunately having lived in India all my life,I am used to asking people for directions so besides knowing that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,i am pretty clueless on directions.Now god forbid the sun is high in the sky,then i would probably think south was north and west was east(and that would be pure guesswork).So there I was in England,expected to master the tube in a matter of minutes.To start with I had a tube map(everyone had one) which was sponsored by IKEA so the ad for the company was large and the map itself must have been one point size something.That is the first challenge.I wear reading glasses so they come on only when i need to read something which is maybe a book or two but certainly not every two minutes.So there I was hunting inside my out sized bag for glasses and the train arrives.I have no clue where the train goes so give it a miss.Now the one thing one must learn is directions.All tube trains are westbound or east bound etc(you get the picture).Well its pretty simple when one understands it but faced with the decision to go west or east and you had me in a fine pickle.Without the glasses,i couldn't find out the stations.And there are no people to ask,and if they do hang around they look rather surprised that such simple questions need to be asked.Now i must admit that there is a lot of information.One one gets to the station the routes are clearly printed on the board so its just a matter to getting oriented,except that in my panic the brain slows down and i loose all logic so search at random for my station and therefore my route.Once one is on the train they always announce the stations and the map is on the sides of the cabins also.Unfortunately we are not used to maps or directions,we are used to asking and talking.Finally i sat myself in the corner of the tube station,took ten deep breadths and found the glasses and the station,the route and the directions.I can tell you what a great sense of achievement I had just getting into the right train.It was a 30 minute journey and i couldn't share my happiness with anyone.Every passenger on the train is either wired to an iphone,and ipod or are buried deep in the pages of the london paper,the metro or some book.The silence is deafening.Finally I arrive at earls court station.Now here is the trick.This station is a place to change for the district line,the circle line and so on.Now the circle line is interesting,its a circle like its obvious so whatever ones destination,one will reach it either by the east bound or the west bound except that one route will take longer than the other.Basically its one big circle so the station one wants could be just anywhere on the circle(i like this line but it has limited usage).Now here i was having to change trains.My choice was two trains with just a stop away but i was standing there in this crowd and couldn't figure out which platform.(lots of changes at this station so its busy and everyone rushes around and it had loads of escalators and plenty of platforms).Now i cant deny that i am Indian so i look around(to hell with the map) and spot an old English man with a newspaper in hand.He could be my grandfathers age so i go up to him and ask for directions.Well he is rather sweet but no time to talk as there is a train getting ready to leave and he tells me its mine,so a quick thank you and i am off.One would imagine that that settled it.Well not quiet.Unfortunately I am challenged when it comes to following instructions.Secondly i have a mind like a sieve so nothing stays there.Now my friend of some 20 odd years know this well and she drew a map added telephone number,address etc and put that into my handbag some few days ago.Now once again after i arrive at the station,I realise that i know the road but this is england,and every house is identical. In India its easy enough to identify a house but here its like looking for a needle in a haystack unless one know the door number.I know that the house is a basement flat but so are all the flats.The wise thing would be to call but as luck (or is it just me) should have it my phone runs out of charge so cant call.The map(i had as is to be expected) had been forgotten so i didn't have the number,The phone booth was there but i didn't have the change and the queens currency is also in one point size so the search for glasses etc will happen,so i did the wise and Indian thing to do.I start walking.Now i know I am on the right road,i also know i have to pass one street(i remember this because its named after some chap in literature so i can recall).I cross that road and i also remember the house is on my left so i cross over to the left and then i stop.Now i am lost and this is england and this is central london and this is a residential area so there is not a soul around.But as luck would have it,one lone man came out of his house.So i go up to him and explain that my phone doest work and that i need to use his phone.He gives me a suspicious look (dark skinned woman demanding to use telephone,means danger at least in that country)makes sure i don't cross another step and gets the phone.Now i must admit that the man looked like a decent sort and i did hear a child yelling inside the flat which is why i choose to ask him.Finally the man smiled (he had reason to).I was standing a door away from my friends place and yes the man is question was their neighbour so after much thank yours,I ran into the friends flat.Think about it at the end of all this I did master the tube,I did learn to read a map and to know directions(I can only tell east or west in England)and best of all,my friend actually found out who her neighbour was(considering that in five years she hadn't a clue who he was).Now that's what i call learning...

Midsummer madness

They say that ones holidays are defined by ones experiences.We always do things differently,not for us the packaged tours(we do do those occasionally) but we explore and wander and take in the place,which is what we did in England,except that we got a lot more than we bargained for.

Lets start with the heatwave.We went from 40 degrees in madras to escape to the so called cool of London and as we stepped out on to the London soil, we were happy to be there and glad to be so well prepared.Unfortuanately the English are not very well prepared for heat.We on the other hand had only never really seen the sun set so late either so we realised that long after the empire perished, the sun sets albeit late on Britain.

The heat wave saw some of the more adventurous brits take off as many clothes as was decently possible and lie in the sun,sadly for them,instead of a good tan they look more like overcooked lobsters.We on the other hand were being burnt to a cinder,despite the heavy load of sunblock lotion.So much for colour.The underground or tube,is not air conditioned and is designed to hold heat to keep the harsh winters at bay so in a heat wave it’s a slow roasting oven.No ventilation but the British don’t turn a hair.The bus drivers quiet like us,are so used to using heating that they forget to switch if off in a heat wave so baking continues(we do this with the air conditioner).Imagine 33 degrees in a country where the sun shines low.The sun can do funny things like heating up the cold engines so our bus packs up(the heat got the engine) somewhere in the countryside.We get a replacement double quick and in the time specified which is ten minutes(very efficient the British are and most apologetic that one cant be angry with them)The rules however are strict so the driver cannot work for a certain number of hours at a stretch so we are given a half hour tea break in order to make up some law that makes it legal for them to drive on.

We are by then impressed with the discipline and the punctuality of these people, and the fact that they always give you enough information or in some cases more, like for instance announcing every station before the train arrives, asking us to mind the gaps between the train and the platform (like we cant see) and one has to be rather stupid to get lost or do anything silly.

Just as we get used to the trains and buses running efficiently,our train to Scotland is announced but the air conditioning is not working,we groan collectively but the gods hear us and it cools down so things are not so bad.However on our way back the train is late by 35 minutes.Now we behave like true English people and get all hot and bothered at the delay.They of course apologise and try and make up the time until the driver decides to keep his window open and the flies get him(that’s the excuse when the train stops at York and refuses to move).Now we all know that flies don’t bite but well he is bitten and cant drive.We cant understand.If that was the case we would never drive a single day as we are constantly being bitten by mosquitoes in our country but this is England and despite his hands being free he is too traumatised by being attacked by flies.We are too surprised and the husband actually asks the guard if he can help drive the train(you see he is becoming rather English and offering his services)

Back to the tube and yes you guessed it,the trains are held up,the heat you see has got everyone and the engine hot and bothered so we wait and then the huge surge of people has us almost believing we are on a Bombay train and not the tube.Get off at station for bus home and there it is again,the bus is not on time,the temperature is still at 33 degrees and the island is literally going to pieces.This I believe is what is called midsummer madness and so we see this first hand.I should soon start to behave like the mad hatter in Alice in wonderland but that is another story.

London learnings

It takes a holiday to end for one to realise what it all meant.For me it was a time of no responsibility,a time to see place that I had only read about.It was in someway like watching a movie after reading the book.Lovely but missing in some ways.Perhaps I ought to have refreshed my memories a bit,or even read up my literature or history before I left.Felt strangely inadequate.Its different when one is totally ignorant so the saying a little knowledge is a dangerous this couldn’t be more true.I had in effect forgotten almost all that I had read over the years.It came back to me when at oxford the guide recited “cats” and I realised that I knew the words.Or for that matter when the south African woman and I recited the “bells of London town” together and we both realised we had forgotten most of the words.

Then there was the traffic and the crowds.We took the car(a very unwise thing to do in London even on Sunday) and made our way from Ealing to Covent gardens.We reached Hammersmith and were stuck in traffic for an hour,we waited near a traffic light in from of Harrods for thirty minutes(thanks to some sri Lankan tamils protesting about something).In Indian by now tempers would have been on the boil,everyone would have cut lanes leading to bigger delays(who cares we just have to think about ourselves)and we would have been honking like there is no tomorrow.In Britain there is a deafening silence.Not a soul cut lanes.We waited patiently till our turn came to move(we are not british,very Indian),not once did we press the horn(there was no need to,everyone followed the rules).There were no pedestrians cutting across the road(I must confess we did it a couple of times in less traffic places)and no one swore at eachother.This is discipline,this is the quintessential English politeness that really gets me.The entire city is wired by camera,there is simply no question of breaking rules as the chances of getting caught with evidence is a hundred percent.Its part of their lives,they don’t question it.Could we do the same in India?.I think not.I tried it in a short trip of about a kilometre from my home and found that I could have killed a pedestrian, got hit by a bus and run over by a car (a bigger one than mine) and my hand had to be constantly on the horn.

Finally we arrive at Covent gardens.There are milling crowds but the only sound is that of the street performers.People talk in low voices and we automatically lower ours (the husband finds this a bit of a task but does so nevertheless).Not for them the shouting and yelling like some of us do.But then again there are more tourists than local people but we all fall in line.Its pretty amazing.

The English politeness is something else that gets me.Walk into any shop and be prepared to be greeted with “hello”.Its just one of those things,please and thank yous are also common place.Its nice to be so well mannered.The shop assistants are helfull,they don’t crowd you like they do in our country,one can shop at ones one pace and no one asks questions.If I did want clarifications they were all very well informed.I came to India and went shopping.No hello and when I did say thank you,I got stared at funny.So much for good manners.

The things I loved about England have to be, beautiful countryside, silent traffic and good manners.Just for that I could go back again and again.

History in a little time

My dilemma about Scotland continued and I couldn't make up my mind if Edinburgh was important or if a whiskey tour was better.Having watch all the episodes of the thirsty traveller i was dying to do a whiskey tour(i cant stand the stuff and wont drink it if its the last drink standing) bu as i toss it around in my head(these tours are miles away and need planning) the husband(as usual) has taken the decision to see Edinburgh(not a bad decision as i was to find out)

We set off by the first train and by now there is a steady drizzle and we are richer by one umbrella bought at Wimbledon.By the time we reach Edinburgh the rain is pouring and the sky is dark.I am in heaven.This is what i came to england to see and thank god its happened.We step off the train and head for the tourist information,book ourselves on a hop on hop off tour and buy ourselves our next umbrella.All red tartan and all we are ready to hit town.I must say that when one reads harry potter,or Walter Scot or even Robert burns and sees this place....well,I could be the next J K Rowling if i stayed in this place believe me.Its old,quaint,spires,castles,palaces(one is larger than the other) and narrow cobbled streets.We set off to our first stop the hollyrood castle.Its small and was the home of Mary queen of Scots.Now that woman had style i must admit,with her french background and in a dreary place like this its not surprising that she warmed up the palace with her style and took on more men than any english queen would dare.So much for hot french blood that the poor thing was beheaded by non other than her pale english cousin.I must admit I have a soft spot for Mary.

Our next stop is the palace also belonging to Mary,but being used by the present queen.Much of the furniture is still there as are the tapestry and the dinner sets(i loved the bone china and the delicate flowers etc)The views from the windows are fabulous.The thing to note is that the beds are rather small,but i am guessing that they were meant to be that way.

The drive from the palace to our next stop is full of history.The present square is where public hangings were carried out,the grass market is full of tents selling all manner of things.The little pub where the harry potter series was penned is cashing in on the publicity.The writes corner has many writers that one has read in the past.The whiskey shops are a dime a dozen offering a whiskey experience(total rip off which we realised just in time).The many posh places are full of history so we have the many places that provide food for the palace and which the queen endorses as we have pubs and taverns that date back to hundreds of years ago.The whole place looks like a medieval city with the modern world having passed it by and therein lies its charm.Our last stop is the royal yacht Britannia.The venue for many of the queens travels and the many honeymoons of now defunct marriages,this is one a museum and so well kept its truly a must visit.On three levels,it is filled with stuff of the royal family and the walk on the deck with the sea flowing by makes one feel that the ship is actually moving.As always i simply had to use the royal toilet so that done(i could write a thesis on english toilets by the end of my visit)we head out to the mall and look around and head back to stirling.We haven't done many things like the underground walk,the ghost walk etc but we have just one day and had to be happy with the main attractions.And by now i am in love with Scotland

Cricket,beer and me

Cricket and more cricket,so we pack up with all manner of gear and set off to Dundee to play a league match.It takes us a good hour to reach the place and i soak in Scottish countryside.Here the sheep are in abundance and thank god the english weather is back so its a dry day,slightly sunny and fluffy clouds all around.Of course by the time we reach the place the sun is shining again and the field is just right for a good game of cricket.

Everyone is very impressed that we have travelled all the way to see our friend play a match.Now we were not about to tell them otherwise.I have seen more cricket in england than i have in my entire life but for once i wont complain.The pitch is a lovely green carpet and the grass is soft and think underfoot.The club house is old fashioned but again it did have a ladies changing room.For a small town cricket field,it was rather impressive.In deference to our presence our friend has been pushed up the batting order and in true blue indian style,the boy was off to a good start.By the end of the innings he has notched up 83 runs and was quiet the toast of the team.The sidelights of all this(which i what i am watching,considering i cant understand a silly point when it looks me in the face)is that the team itself is all local boys,some as young as twelve.The young one are fascinated by us and are full of questions,are we are friends parents is the first one.Not to take offence of course considering that a lot of Britain has mothers in their 18s,this was an innocent question.Of course i promptly put the persons age down to 15 and was right though he did try very hard to act 25.With his freckled face he reminded me so much of fatty in the enid blyton series.A Scottish man of some 60 odd years regaled us with stories of local personalities and some stories out of school of our friend,and strangely he and i agreed on many points concerning the friend.The scottish accent takes a bit of getting used to but after a couple of minutes(and after missing a few jokes) i cottoned on to what was being said.Called badger,he swore he was a dying breed(i cant agree with him more) and did mention that badgers were protected in Scotland.He went on to tell me of interesting night walks and Scottish whiskey trails,till he had me in two minds about what to do in scotland.That said we went off in search of food.As always we had worked up an appetite by the time food was found(unlike the english we had no intention of filling our stomachs with beer,ale and stout)One lone place actually had food and we were too tired to look further afield and settled in to eat.The husband ordered a pizza(very wise thing to do).I needed some meat so settled for spaghetti with something which resembled boiled beef mince.Cant say much of how it tasted(i can swear that the english can put the most die hard meat eater,off meat for live by the way they murder the dishes).I didn't earn brownie points when i asked for chille sauce and insisted on adding more salt in a vain attempt to add some flavour to the dish.The chef came out and frowned but i had no intention of bowing to pressure and told him how i thought it ought to be made.lets face it I could have dished up the same thing in a much better way,so much for so called english food.

Back to the match where in our absence our friend has excelled himself and the tea break is on.Chocolate and loads of cream later i wonder how they manage to run between wickets and dive for the ball(please not my acquired cricket jargon)This time on our friend has taken three wickets and the sun is beating down.By now i am ready to sleep so unlike the good English who insist on taking off their clothes and sun bathing on the grass,i head for the nearest tree and shade,lie of the grass and go to sleep.By the time i am woken up the match is over and the friends team has won.Oh no yet another pub crawl and i am not wrong.We all head off to the local to get everyone a round of beers(bad manners not to get a few beers down after winning a match).The husband and i are in no mood to be drinking at that time of the afternoon.I could kill for a cup of tea but manners being manners i gulp down the stuff all smiles and good cheer on my face and we head home to stirling.We cant face another pub or another beer and the husband is now having withdrawal symptoms for indian food so we head off to "ranas".Nice place but try eating indian english food(beggars cant be choosers )and one will realise that there is very little difference between chicken and veggie gravy(i suspect its the same with a few pieces of chicken thrown in).This time i am too tired to put on my purist hat and let it pass.By the time we walk to our B&B,the food is digested and we are ready to sleep and so another day passes.

The woods are lovely dark and deep

Much as i dislike cricket,it looks like there is no getting away from it,so on a Saturday morning after a breakfast like a king(sausages,bacon,eggs,fruit,tea,cereal,yogurt etc etc) we are scheduled to go off to Dundee to see our friend play in a league match.I decide to take a walk and see some of the place,as even i with my limited knowledge of cricket,know that this is a full day affair and i will be the lone woman there.My walk takes me off to a secluded part of the town close to our place of stay.The road houses a gallery and suddenly takes off into a dark wood.As i walk along the trees become more dense and the light fades.Bang in the middle of the city i am in a wood with birds chirping and bunny rabbits jumping around.Now i have not seen bunnies other than in cages so i stop in my tracks to watch them.Just as the books mention,a family comes along with their dog and very soon its a free for all.The rabbits are down into their holes quick as ever and the dog is busy trying to get them out.I watch enid blyton in live action.Unfortunately the cricket match beckons so I hurry alone back to the place i came from,delighted nevertheless at seeing all of this in that one moment in a walk that took me just a hundred yards away.

culinery charms

I had made a promise to my friend that the moment I came to london i would cook her a good dinner with all her favourite foods,in return she had to introduce me to significant persons in her life(i am an old aunt when it comes to matchmaking and am dying to get my friend hitched to some nice english man but am having no success).We agreed to do this but as luck would have it we didn't get time.Of course I decided that girl friends are important in any woman's life and that one weekend i ditched the husband to go and spend time at her place.Of course we had managed to do dinner with her one evening at which some good old sambar and vegetables were served and the husband swore he would do anything to continue eating at her place during our stay in london(i call this brahmin bonding,they being from similar backgrounds where food atleast is concerned).That Saturday we started with the shepherds bush market,where the fish was exactly the way i wanted it.Then as luck would have it we got ourselves some raw bananas which were so huge i had to buy them.We were invited to lunch at a rather swish place in kensington so we landed up there.Italian,french and a good english dandy are all vital ingredients to a good lunch and as the afternoon passed us by I chatted up a rather interesting woman who had spent a good deal of her time in Edinburgh.She made it a point to write down all that i had to do while in Scotland.I was to discover how posh she was when i actually took up her advice on eating places.The witchery was recommended and thanks to good traditions here the menu is placed outside so we can take a look.This had me flying to the nearest pub as there was nothing less than 20 pounds at the place.How posh I didnt realise until I went abode the Britannia to find that the queen ordered her food from this very place.So much for posh,but there we are in the middle of it all.The Italians owned the art gallery(now we all know that that is serious money ) so i sneaked a look at the price tag.In kensington home to kings,queens and minor royalty I ought to have expected it.The least expensive painting was 6,500 pounds.Hmm i mumbled a bit about indian art and sank in silence and ate the food with much relish.For the rest of the afternoon I watched how the other side lives.Much kissing and shaking of hands later,we were back to our kitchen(also in posh central london).Two hours later i had dished up my mothers fish curry,her banana skin porial,chips,fish fry and something else which even i cant remember.All done,our guest arrived.Art dealers,interior designers etc.The bottom line ofcourse is that what passes as indian food is very different from home cooked authentic recipes.Everyone took a second helping but I wasn't sure.

My friend however tells me that she has now got a guest list that includes some others who have since heard about my cooking and as my friend says,the cooking standards of Sinclair road have gone up as have the expectations of her various friends.In addition I have got a huge ego massage at the many compliments that have come my way ...so much for chocolate skin and curly hair.I must admit that while all of london is smothered in sun tan lotion and lying on the grass,we and people like me are diving for cover.Well I guess as much as we find fair skin beautiful,they find chocolate delightful....so much for the london cooking experience.I have promised my friend I shall be back in her kitchen the moment i make enough money for another london trip and should i poor mother hear of this....but whos to tell.

Scotfree in scotland

Some three weeks into the tail end of the holiday and i have lost track of time and place.Thanks to being non connected,(i promised myself that the blog would be updated and i wouldn't loose track but man proposes and countries think otherwise).In anycase I have decided to continue the london blog long after reaching home as memories have a knack of coming back.All said,after some two weeks of floating around london we were beginning to tire of the city so very much like the london trip(which came about thanks to a casual facebook conversation),we touched base with a friend in Scotland and decided to take a trip there for the weekend.He isn't the most reliable person(at least that was my last memory of him some nine years ago) but we decided we had nothing to loose.We booked ourselves on the train(expensive).Having seen the length and breadth of london from six feet under,we decided that this was our last chance to enjoy the view and the breathtaking landscape of the english countryside.We were not disappointed.The kings cross station reminds me very much of harry potter and the bustle to catch the train and we get in and set off on our long five hour journey to scotland.As London flies past and we leave the city behind the landscape changes.The heatwave has suddenly taken a back seat.The greens rush along in its many colours,the little villages look like a child's toy room with little houses and their individual gardens,sloping roofs with chimneys(i remember the song from my fair lady of the chimney sweep,though these have long been out of use in this country).The cars in the driveways look like they have been placed neatly there.Everywhere we see little villages and hardly any people.Brown and white and black and white cows graze or doze in the lazy afternoon sun while woolly sheep follow each other aimlessly along the meadows.We reach Newcastle and we look out for the coal mines but all we see is a pretty majestic bridge over the river.The town itself is like all others,Stone houses,village green,church spires and sunny blue skies.Our next stop is york.Once again we see the villages of england but this time all of Jane's Harriot comes alive.When he talks of all the animals he sees on the farms around Yorkshire and the times when he just sits on the grass to watch the beautiful landscapes and scenery,I know exactly what he feels like.Ofcourse like always i try to share my experience with the husband who promptly tells me that all he knows of Yorkshire is Geoffry boycott and there ends the conversation.Of course a village cricket match is on on one of the many greens(all village pitches will put our best stadiums to shame)and that has the husband craning his next to get a look.We see many people bowling on the greens and tennis matches are on in almost all the villages.This being summer everyone is out in strength.We pass the Edinburgh station and get off at the small town of stirling.Its pouring cats and dogs,but a wise investment at wimbledon by way of an umbrella comes in handy.Finally we see the famed englsih rain and needless to say I am delighted.The earth smells fresh,the flowers droop with the heaviness of the rain and the grass is fresh and wet under our feet.Strangely nothing stirs in stirling.This small town is a delightful place.A short walk from the station,we arrive at our bed and breakfast place.Large stone bungalows set around a village green.The streets are empty.We are in a nice residential area and the smell of inherited wealth is in the air.The homes are all at the very least a hundred years old.A large carpeted staircase leads us to our room.Its perfect.Large casement windows and a bed with all the frills and fluffiness of an english country house.Heavy curtains keep out the sun and white lace ones hang behind.We leave almost at once after we check in.The surrounding are too good to be seen from a bed and breakfast room so we dash off in the direction of the town.Our friend having been here for eight years,is a bit of a veteran and most locals acknowledge him so we are in good hands.The Scots themselves are a friendly lot and a quick to make friends.This being a friday evening the pubs are spilling our with people.Beer flows freely as does much mirth and fun.I decide that asking for wine in a pub would be politically incorrect so ask instead for an ale.I haven't the faintest idea what this will taste like but i had no intentions of drinking beer either(i don't like the stuff).Unfortunately by now i also know that this is no easy task,but I have learnt.Some three odd glases of different varieties of drinks are placed before me.I try all of them convinced that the cold(by now there is a nip in the air) will prevent me from getting totally drunk(which may be fine by Scottish standards)and I settle for something.Small glass is provided and i gulp down the stuff like a veteran.All the literature that told me of a quick ale over some deal or the other in pubs in all those classics,made me feel like bill skyes himself.Food unfortunately doesn't figure in the scotish pub so we have to look elsewhere.Food is a completely different subject and has to be dealt with differently so we get back to our room,in a mad rush to the loo(all that beer has only one way to go).Much walking involved and the nip has become a chill but like all english homes the room itself is warm and I soon have half my body out of a window(this has the husband in a fit as he is convinced that i shall fall out on to the street,and i am still not sure if he is worried about disgrace or death but could be wither)gulping in cold air and looking wistfully at the many lovely dogs that walk by.The dog subject being a strict no no,we don't venture that way.Its almost eleven at night but its pretty bright outside.I am very tempted to take a walk but don't dare and so our first day in Scotland passes.

At home in southall

If back in india one mentioned that one lived in London,it would amount to being a big deal.I thought so myself.Living abroad meant so many things as far as i was concerned.Different food,different homes and in england it comes with the bonus of garden and beautiful weather.But having come here I find that the beautiful and unpredictable weather is non existant.Its predictible and hot hot hot.Food ...well englsih food is now curry and rice so its not very different either.As for living,yes the houses are nice and they do have gardens and small streets with trees and dogs walking around.Beautiful parks and endless green.Unfortunately some of us Indians cant live without our Indian customs.Not a bad thing at all but I am of the firm belief that if one lives in a foreign country one must adapt and mingle and integrate.To be treated differently is also because we don't behave like Romans in Rome.

Talk for instance southall.It India in England.When we asked our friend what he wanted from India he said nothing really because ever thing is available here.I didn't quiet believe him until he took me to the supermarket in southall.To start with the signposts are written in Punjabi.Then there are a dime a dozen women in salwar kameez or sarees(considering that the one s who come on holiday don't wear sarees this is interesting).The supermarket itself had every possible item on any Indian menu.So dhals,rice,oils masalas everything except that here there is the added advantage of getting Pakistani and Bangladeshi stuff.The place even has cookers,tavas and whatever else one would want to be indian.Here one does not need to know english,despite being in England.Here there is a strange absence of the local people and one would be forgiven if one thought that one was in punjab instead of a suburb of London.

so much for being in holiday in england,there are so many asians here that it doesn't feel foreign,the language is not new but yes it may have been interesting if i knew hindi.The husband is getting good deals thanks to his hindi while i am being given dirty looks....not knowing hindi is a disadvantage especially in southall.

It does have its advantages though,in terms of never being home sick and all that but i cant help but wonder why the Indians choose this far off suburb to set up shop.The chinese chose the heart of London and the centre of all the fun and poshness.The muslims have their biggest mosque in the heart of regents park,another posh area,but we choose to be in a small suburb that's poorer than most......says something doesn't it.

Wimbledon and tennis

If anyone thought that Wimbledon was about tennis,then think again..Its a big circular stadium but the fun is all outside.Yes the centre court and court no 1 are the main attractions and our tickets dont give us access to these places but it all starts with the queueing book.This is a first for me and its a 40 odd page book on queueing etiquette.The English are a strange lot so the que starts from the moment we get in and includes such things as loo ques and food ques and shop ques.The thing is they are so pucca about it all.Much please and thank yous go on and everyone is so polite that it would be impolite to refuse to que.And so our day starts and with book in hand we set off on our adventure.
The food stalls are a dime a dozen so there are food villages,the fancy wingfield restaurant which can only be used with reservations,the aorangi cafe which is a piggy place and serves all things pork.But the biggest marketing con job has to be the strawberries and cream.Like all pilgrims to Wimbledon we stand (please note in que) for this much sort after dish without which no Wimbledon experience is complete.Everyone has told us that we can be forgiven for not watching a match at Wimbledon but to not eat strawberries and cream would be sacrilege,so we get our bowlful and let me tell everyone (at the risk of being branded a heretic) that this is just plain strawberries (not even as large as the tesco or sainsbury ones) served in a bowl of watery cream(yes its not whipped nor is it thick).After all the clotted cream we have been eating this is of course a huge let down.I still haven't researched why this is such a big draw but one must hand it to the organizers that this one single dish has created so much drama....my advice....skip it....but i know no first timer will do that...it requires guts to say that one has skipped this so called dream dish.Personally i would settle for the pizza(i would normally be up in arms on this one,but there is something called necessity) as the other choices are all bread bread and more bread,of course some pasta salad is available but then again....
So did someone mention tennis?.Yes we did manage after all that to end up on a crowded lawn(after all this is about lawn tennis) and strained our necks to see a large screen tv,and then we left.There are tickets available if one is willing to stand in 33 degree heat in a que but considering almost half my sun block lotion had been used by in the trip around the lawns,this seemed a waste of time.
After all that tennis and cream and fruit and a life time dream fulfilled,we were off to kew gardens.Me personally to sleep under a tree and cool off but as luck would have it,it was closed and we have to keep that for another day.
Just for the record,I like a true Indian,did manage to get to the loo without waiting in que as i did for a lot of other things at Wimbledon but yes it is an experience that one has to have as one of the many things one does before dying.

Shakespear and learning

Another early morning run to Victoria to catch the bus for our next tour.This time its educational,so we set off and are out of London(by now we know the route rather well,thanks to endless trips on the tube) and the landscape changes at once.Lush green meadows,dotted with dark green trees,some with red leaves and miles and miles of green of every hue.The sky is clear blue and the sun shines on yet another summers day in England.Our first stop is the small town of oxford and its many universities.We arrive at Christ college and are truly impressed.Its a religious experience(the college looks like a church)and the corridors are cool and shady.The few students around whizz past us on cycles and don't look at all the kind that are the brainy kind,but i guess they are.The dining room at Christ church is set for lunch and this is the hall that inspired the setting of Hogwarts school in the harry potter series and one can almost see the sorting hat doing its rounds.But the significant part is that Alice in wonderland was thought up here.The many greens in the campus almost makes one want to get at studies again.In a class of five or less students and in an environment of such peace,its not surprising that some of the best known scholars were from here.Our guide recites T S Eliot's poems on cats and i am charmed as it all comes back to me.The college next door produced this great writer and some chubby cat on campus was the inspiration behind cats.

We visit the many shops around the place and set off to the Cotswold,the most charming part of England.With its biscuit box houses,little gardens and rolling hills dotted with lazy cows grazing on the fresh green grass,the little woolly sheep also sunning themselves in the sun,all adds to that feeling of being in a green country unspoilt by the hustle and bustle of London.We stop at the Cotswold's arms,a pub where we are to have lunch but we skip to another place.Local oldies are having their many afternoon drinks and are chatting about the latest village gossip so we sit down to eat yet another mountain of potatoes(i am baning this vegetable from my house for a long time to come).

Stuffed to the gills,we wind our way over to Ann Hathaway's cottage a few miles down the road.This is a place i have been waiting for.Charming would be an understatement.This thatched roof cottage has an amazing garden and the sent of sweet peas are so heady that I stop to sniff at all of them.The variety is mind boggling.The vegetable garden is equally amazing as the cabbages and cauliflowers are so different.Purple cauliflower and with individual florets,this is interesting.The trees all have little quotes from Shakespeare plays and the artichokes are large and purple.

Our bus packs up thanks to the heat so i go back to the cottage and lounge on the lawns(this being my favourite pass time in England).

We arrive at Standford on Avon and are greeted by the fool(a large statue of one of the most essential characters in Shakespeare plays).We walk into the house where Shakespeare was born,marvel at the furniture and the house itself and then meet characters from his plays,who actually lapse into some lines from the plays themselves.The town is all about Shakespeare so every shop is full of him.But my favourite is the Christmas shop which is almost like Santa's workshop with a chubby little man who is more than ready to talk.We also go to the witches shop and there like in Macbeth there is the cauldron which is doubling and troubling for all its worth.The shop is full of spells that one can buy but with my watchdog around its impossible to buy any spell(there are quiet a few i would have liked to buy and some people that i would like to cast them on).

We are by now having withdrawal symptoms on tea so we stop for cream tea(scones with clotted cream,jam and a pot of tea).There are enough dogs around for me to play with and i meet spaniels,terriers and all kinds of English dogs.Finally our day is over and we drive back through the country side and back to London.We get off at notting hill gate and walk through the lovely houses and then get swallowed up by the tube on our way back home.

Roses and swans

Roses,swans ducks,boats and miles and miles of green,large lakes and ponds....no i am not in some fairytale land....I am in regents park bang in the middle of busy crossroads and intersections but once inside the park,all is peace and quiet.How do they do it.The place is clean and neat and the flowers are a riot of colour.Flowers and beautiful trees are matched only by the brown bushy tailed squirrel and the birds who all walk across the paths like they own the place(i suspect they do).The summer heat lessens in this park and we walk slowly along the waterway to the rose garden.I have never seen roses of such color or size.The heady sent get me going on and on.I cant have enough of it.The easy chairs are out on the lawns and the green is endless.I can spend whole days just being here sitting on the park bench reading a book or newspaper,but unfortunately I cant so i settle for the grass.I flop on the soft green grass and i am instantly under its spell.I cannot get up,I want to stay there to watch the stars come out,I want to go to sleep and not wake up in a hot bedroom ..in short i simply want to stay in the park.I would have liked to be a goblin or an elf living there but the clock chimes and Cinderella's chariot will turn back into a pumpkin so I am off to catch the tube and head for home

cricket

The only real competitor to my marriage is cricket.Honestly I loose the husband to hours and hours of this game so its not surprising that i have never been inside of a cricket stadium and had no intentions of going either.But Lords is another ball game all together.This is where the famous ashes is played,this is a playground of legends and to come to London and not see Lords would be rather sad.As usual we arrive late and the last tour has left,but do we need a tour,of course not.So we get tickets and walk into the stadium to watch a cricket match and for once,I have no complaints.Here is a ground that is emerald green,beautifully cut and truly historic.The old part which has the old English pavilion,sits well with the new media house across the ground,but the beauty of the ground is the pitch,the little picket fences around it and the fact that the fence is so low that the game can be enjoyed in all its funny ways.We sit and watch while the blue skies and the green ground lull us into a nice relaxed afternoon feeling.We get to see a four a six and a clean bowled but we don't see anyone getting a catch.At a ground like this even someone like me would enjoy cricket.Well so much for that.I always do this,if my first impression has to be good,it simply had to be made on the holiest of hollies of any game,legend,history etc etc

Its hot hot hot

We have been in England for over a week now and i remember the advice that we got from various sources.....umbrella(it rains in London) light sweater(it will turn cold in London)jacket(for the same reason and it may get windy)walking shoes(lots to walk about)Except for the last piece of advice,I decided to ignore the rest.Unfortunately summer heat and I go together so if i decided to holiday in the north pole the world may see another flood the kind Noah had to live with as all the ice would melt the moment i arrive.What it is about me is beyond belief.We arrive to pleasant weather,which is around 20 degrees and slowly rises as the days go by.Today the heat wave warning is on.Of course everyone who lives here tells me that it will rain(English weather has a knack of correcting itself.)..ha i am yet to see rain.My sunblock location is down to half,the shops are full of sun protection creams,people are being advised to drink a lot of water and this is exactly what i was trying to run away from.So i suffer in silence as i melt in the tube,and suffer in silence in a room that is designed to hold heat and that makes it so hot its impossible to sleep.The umbrella came out today but no ...not for the reasons the English use it for.,I used it to shade myself from the sun which has no sign of letting up.This is no English summer,this is an Indian summer in all its splendor.Funny that three years ago I had the same experience in Europe.Sweltering heat had me sitting in bathtubs filled with colder water and running to hide under trees.This time the sunblock lotion protects but all my geography and studies on climates of Europe and England have all gone for a toss.Some 25 off years after leaving school i now know that the textbooks are not to be believed.There are no cool places on this earth.Despite being an island and having some of the biggest green spaces in the world right in the middle of the city,this is a seriously hot place and about time they found air conditioning.Today i spent some happy hours in the meat section of Salisbury's as the place was cold and I wandered around from one aisle to the other pretending to buy met when all i was up to was to stay with the cold.I shall do so everyday now,the best place in London is the meat sections of the supermarket.After all beefy me needs to cool off too.

All things great and small

Finally we made it on time to Westminster abbey and not for service but to see the place.On a normal day,its a beautiful church and a great place to hide actually.There are so many passages,rooms and private chapels that one could get lost.If I were a priest who had had a bit too much of the communion wine,this may be just the place to get lost in.The church suddenly gives way to a beautiful lawn and flowers and park benches.In this country donating park benches seems to be a great pass time.Besides the ornate gravestones,there are many park benches donated by friends and family in remembrance.
The abbey itself is so full of history that one should shore up on English history to enjoy it to its fullest extent,but the poets corner got me all excited.Its wonderful when one recognises all the people mentioned there and actually know their works.Suddenly it all comes alive.Some surprises also as I never expected D H Lawrence to get a mention there considering the poor man had all his books banned in his life time.Two famous film personalities were also there and considering they were both my favourites,the abbey visit was worth the money and time.
We then walked to the one place I was in danger of missing completely.The Buckingham palace.Was I impressed,well yes,its a magnificent place but to live there and not be able to amble along to st Jame's park,green park and Hyde park is a real waste.The gates and place of course look unlived in but the mall in front is so impressive as was the royal coach that came along horse drawn and all.I couldn't see who was in but it was an experience.Our walk then took us to green park and all that walking made us flop onto the grass and take 40 winks.The poor queen,on a real hot day in London a walk in the park would do her poor old bones a lot of good.How sad to have all that around you and to not be able to use it except when she is one display.I did look at the windows and wonder if she did look from behind her curtains and long to be out there with us.
We then walked down the road to Clarence house.The prince and his wife live there (or at least i think so)and for once all the window were open and there was a sense of lived in feel.One ceremonial guard had us stop to take pictures while he marched endlessly up and down.Rather a dull job one would think except for folks like us who take photos.
By now we have reached the end of the road and are almost in Trafalgar square,so we step into st martins in the field.I cant remember what the bells of st martins is supposed to say but by this time a friend of mine is frantic to reach us as we have promised to see her at dinner and the husband is complaining loudly of his too frequent visits to churches and I am trying to keep all sides happy.St martins has a music concert on and the crypt has a coffee shop and a regular shop.If churches in our country had these it may have been interesting.All the famous churches in this country comes equipped with amenities and I am surprised that they are not full.However the thing to notice is of course the manner in which its all done .No fuss and no intrusion.Finally its around six in the evening but looking like four and the sun is beating down so we call it a day....royalty,religion and sunshine can all be rather tiring when its all in one day....

Leeds,dover and canterburry

This morning the rain threatened to make an appearance and I waited eagerly,took the umbrella out and set out to Victoria.It drizzled and stoped and there was that wonderful nip in the air.Finally some English weather and i rejoiced,but as luck would have it the sun was back and shinning.Nevertheless it seemed a glorious day for an outing,so with sandwiches and fruit in our bags we left for our trip.Our bus arrived a minute ahead of us so we ran(after ages,the old bones protested).The tube was also early(or rather we were late) so another mad run to get in.The one thing about the tube is that it gets stuffy and hot.I cant imagine why everyone wears sweaters and jackets as i am pouring with sweat and feeling stuffy.Our day hasn't started too well and once we are in Victoria we manage to get lost and find our way again in a brisk walk convinced we are late.We arrive at the bus station and have to wait for 45 minutes for the tour to start.By this time the heat is getting to me(unlike fans and air conditioning,the English have heaters so when it gets this hot,its impossible to handle)The bus is air conditioned(or so they claim) but it doesn't help but we are on our way to Leeds to see a castle.Once again large tracts of green fields and lush trees give us our taste for the English countryside.The Leeds castle is marketed as the most beautiful castle in the world(and considering that about 90 percent of castles are in England i am sure they are right in their claim).Our guide today is an oxford educated lawyer(or so he claims) who is a freelance travel guide.On the way to the castle he talks in welsh and asks if we can identify the language(confident that after the same routine on many trips,no one has guessed right)He is a bit put out by the fact that i get it right the first time and is dying to know how i figured it out.Well so much for that.The Leeds castle is very livable.The grounds around the place are beautiful with grass,trees and lakes.Black swans,ducks and peacocks run freely around the place and flowers of every colour and size bloom in the hot summer sunshine.The views from every window is so soothing that one could just sit and do nothing.The castle has a very lived in feel about it and not surprising as the last owner was an Anglo American who -thank god for small mercies-left a will saying that the place couldn't be made into a hotel or broken down.The is a lot of modernity but the old world charm remains.The owner also had a fascination for birds and got many varieties to come over.
Our next stop is Dover.My only connection with Dover is the song by Jim Reeves where he says'there will be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover' and I always thought he meant snow.By now its raining and i am sure its going to wash our our trip(finally English rain).The mist comes down rapidly but we brave the rain and the mist and walk down the pebbled beach to see the English channel.On a bright day we could have seen chalis but not today.I have by now decided that the souvenir shops in England leave a lot to be desired so all my souvenirs are from the land.I pick three perfectly formed blue pebbles as a reminder that i was in Dover and though i didn't see any blue birds,I did see the white cliffs(all made of chalk) and a photograph to remind me of the lapping waters of the English channel.
We leave to go on to Canterbury.Again my connection with this church comes thanks to an elder sister who read TS Eliot and insisted on telling me the story of Thomas Becket and his murder in the cathedral.The church itself is magnificent.The number of little chapels and naves can be pretty confusing but despite the little shops and cafes in the churches in this country,they remain places of calm and peace.This being the seat of English Christianity,naturally is interesting and considering that the archbishop is the head of the church of England is also an interesting fact.Not the archbishop of Westminster.We have a hearty meal of fish and chips and our guide tells us that the fish is always caught fresh from the English channel.The fish being cod,I am delighted to be tasting it,as the nearest i have ever gotten to cod has come by way of cod liver oil capsules that I was made to take for many years of my life.A rather bland fish but nothing that a good dash of chillie sauce couldn't perk up.
Our last stop is Greenwich and we stop at a little village that has more green than people or houses.We take a long walk across the park and there are people selling ice creams of the strangest colours but i don't indulge.The best part about these parks and public places is that they all have well appointed toilets and they are clean.Our walk across Greenwich park takes us to the observatory and like all tourists we take our picture with each foot on either side of the longitude line.This done we get a panoramic view of London and a short walk away is our speed boat waiting.The ride on the Thames is fast and furious but i am more fascinated by a jack Russell pup that has come along with its owner for the ride.The owner unfortunately looked the rough kind and with more beer than he could handle,I didn't riskplaying with his dog.Finally we are home,but not before I forgot the way and had the husband in a fine fettle about all thing that one needs to be aware of etc etc.I did muddle along and find the right bus stop to get off at and the way home so despite the fuss,all wells that ends well.
Finally I must say that despite all the fun I am having,I cant help but feel sorry about Micheal Jackson dying.For me its not about the scandals,its not about his looks that have changed over the years.For me its about a child who was pushed into something that was too much too soon and who despite his great music and entertainment sense,was at the heart a little boy who lost his way and didn't know how to handle it all.Tragic but true and today I pray that we can enjoy his music as a tribute to a once great man who despite his 50 years remained relevant to all generations.This truly is greatness. and so goodnight.

Windsor,bath and stonehenge

Almost five days in London and not having done much we decide its time to take a break from the city and head out.We decide to check out the famed English country side.Poets,fiction writers and Enid Blyton together have created this image in our minds of rolling hills,green meadows,glens and dales.

An early morning start sees us at Victoria coach station(not the horse and carriage variety,rather the Volvo kind)Our guide for the day thank god is English(not eastern European,Indian or Thai)and considering I have had to hunt for an English person in London's mixed up community,this is a big bonus.He is very English,good humour and good manners keeps us going on our trip outside the city.Our first stop is Windsor castle,the home of the current queen and many before her who choose to escape the atmospher of London(and who can blame them).The country side is calming and even the one a minute plane that fly over cant dampen my happiness at seeing such a variety of green.The sun shines brightly on yet another glorious day and we approach Windsor.The castle like something out of a fairy tale rises up from its green surroundings.We start our tour and marvel at the many state rooms.I am fascinated at the number of valuable Rubens and van dyke's that are on display.What wouldn't i give to have just on of those hanging on my home walls(but I am no queen,even if I choose to be one in my own small way).The room dedicated to crockery and china has me spell bound.The delicate flowers,the pretty shapes of the dinner service has me wanting more.The relief on the dining room walls are all on food,fish,turkey fruits everything to give one a healthy appetite.The queen Marys dolls house of a sight for sore eyes.To think that every painter worth his while gave his best works in miniature as did authors.The dolls house is a must see,for its attention to detail and it beauty.How marvelous to have a hobby that could be indulged in (but to be fair to the queen she was letting us share).We move over to see the changing of the guards.All the pomp and pageantry of the English court is very much there and we watch in awe.The mascot however seems a little under the weather(he is a six month old dog of some strange English breed).Besides the show itself I am taken in once again by British humour.The guards and the police crack jokes with us,tell us that the dog will have us for breakfast or that we could be in danger of being shot for walking the lawns.The police officer who tells us that he has never raised his voice and we have made him do so....its all done with a cheery sense of fun besides keeping order.I think of a similar situation in my country and sigh.This is so unique to the British and i am enjoying the fun.

We move over now to Bath(after one heart stopping moment when I almost lost my bag thanks to forgetting it in a shop)and this quaint city is circular,dominated by the bath abbey and the roman hot springs.We walk around the bath itself but i decide to take in some literature so we make a quick visit to the Jane Austen centre.We don't have time for a tour but a character from Pride and Prejudice is there so we pose for a snap(thankfully he is a character I like,had it been Mr Darcy I may have had second thoughts)We stop to eat scones,jam and clotted cream which is fantastic despite being churned out by a french man.We wash it down with earl grey and continue to take photographs of the river with its lawns filled with families on picnics.We also meet a Pakistani fellow traveller who takes a picture for us and the husband and he quickly fall into conversation on cricket and the Pakistani victory in the world cup.I wish we could all be so friendly but that's another story.

Our next stop is Stonehenge but not before a two hour trip that takes us through the quaint villages of the Cotswold's.This beautiful part of England is full of picture postcard cottages that are so pretty one cant imagine living there.All of them look like dolls houses and the roses are huge and climbing in a riot of colour.Soon we leave this patch of woods and head towards open country and approach Stonehenge.This strange place has a history that is quiet unknown to most people but theories abound.The stones looks like silent sentinels guarding god knows what,but it has that strange remote look of something that just happened.The wind howls and twirls but the sun shines as if in tribute to the theory that this is a monument to the sun god.We take in the view of yellow corn fields and green meadows with trees in clusters.We then head back to London,having enjoyed our trip to the countryside.Its midnight now and the nights are short and by the time this post is over and done with,daylight will stream in through the windows and the birds will chirp and the flowers will bloom and another sunny English summers day will be born and therefore goodnight....

London Bridge is falling down

A few days in London and already history and reality are merging in my mind.I have lost track of time(thanks to the sun setting rather late on the erstwhile British empire)and i am not sure what I have seen or when,but let me pull out the memories before they are wiped out by the next lot.Once again we set out like dick witington to see London town.No unlike him we have no hopes of becoming lord mayor of London but that doesn't stop us exploring.Today we start at the tower of London.With all its history of murder,torture and intrigue,the tower itself is a lovely place.We see the armory that made England the power that they were,we go to see the crown jewels and are fascinated by the glitter of diamonds and stones.As Indians we stop a wee bit longer at the Kohinoor and I marvel at the patience and courage of the British monarchy (if wearing those heavy crowns is the price of royalty,then thank you a head of hair is more than enough for me).We watch the change of guard take place,and marvel at the size of the ravens on the lawns(reading Edgar Allen Po's poems never made me imagine that ravens could grow to this size)We then went to every possible place in the tower and walked the walkway over looking the river.The sights and sounds took up almost the entire morning and we stepped out to walk over to the tower bridge.Greed gets the better of me at this point and while the husband is busy capturing London on film,I indulge in one pet passion....food.Raw oysters with the smell and taste of the sea as they glide down my throat and I am in heaven.Too scared of my delicate tummy,I refuse to eat more and we walk on tower bridge and take in the sights.I want to climb to the top and that has the husband in a fit(though when I remind him of the arc the triomph he relents)For all my bravado,I wasn't prepared to face 200 odd steps but decide that somethings in life are best attempted,so we climb,slowly and surely till we are at the top(it wasn't at all that difficult) and the views of London on either side is a truly heart stopping moment.We take as many pictures as we can and come back down.We walk along the south bank in search of lunch but as the English seem to live on sandwiches we are left with very little choice.We walk then to the next bridge which is London bridge I am in search of Nancy's steps..(.where Bill Sykes kills her in Dickens's Oliver Twist,but no one seems to remember either dickens or Oliver) so i carry on.

We stumble upon the glob theater and I am once again very excited about seeing this piece of history but once again that deceptive sun has got us mixed up.The theater is open only till noon for a tour so we have to come back.My next stop is the Tate modern(i have decided to buy prints)and as we approach the husband realises that he is being lured into an art gallery and does an about march.We have to skip it and instead end up on the lawns of the Tate and like the rest of London we sprawl on the grass in the afternoon sun and catch 40 winks.Its time now to cross the millennium bridge to St Paul's.I am reminded of the song from mary poppins and as there are all the birds around it comes alive except that the little old bird woman never came.As we arrive late even for evensong we settle for a look around the outside,then walk the gardens of the cathedral.A song book and a piano are the highlight s of my visit(as I know all the songs in the song book) and we take some pictures in the rose garden and wind our way home,we have a long day ahead tomorrow so its goodnight again.

central london

One is rather foxed after three days in London.Unlike most cities the English except us to recognise their monuments,so its with a great difficulty that we wander around,stumbling on one city sight after the other.Having spent most of our time underground,we decided that walking overground is a better way to do things.Our first stop is the High gate cemetery.The beauty of England is that the graveyards are not places that are eerie,rather they are places to visit the dead and those long gone,who live today in their history and literature.We walk through the park,watch the ducks feed in the lake and walk across lawns that look like they have been brushed green,such is their symmetry of the place.The trees stand tall and there are dogs of every breed walking or playing.Small children in prams and families on picnics.In England to see the sun shine for long periods is considered a blessing(though I am still waiting to see the English rain).We walk across and enter the cometary at High gate and walk along the paths,read the headstones and arrive finally to the most famous of persons buried there.Karl Max,and George Elliot.We take pictures(husband protests about this but its brushed aside,after all graves are meant to be photographed especially of famous people).That done and a long walk uphill has made us hungry.A pub lunch seems to be the best way to get a meal,and the national dish of England doesn't disappoint(what ever happened to Yorkshire pudding and the like,the chicken tikka masala has upsurged them all).We then proceed back to central London and get off at the embankment.Fascinated at the bridge that seems to hang in mid air we don't stop to look around and proceed instead to gape at the Thames.Then we walk all the way back along the river,take in the view and the cool breeze and finally get a feel of the London of our dreams.The big Ben rises quiet suddenly and its a magnificent sight and as luck would have it it chimes at our arrival.We stop to take pictures and marvel at all that gold and glitter and stone and walk over to Westminster bridge.Some long forgotten poems on the bridge struggle for attention on my scrambled brains,but i stop to take a picture and we continue our walk to Westminster abbey.Unfortunately we have to take in evensong instead of a tour of the abbey as we are too late(the evensong was rather good and made up for the disappointment).We moved along to st Jame's park but don't stop as all the walking has got us rather tired(so much for using the car back home).We stumble on the queens guards and stop to take a picture of the solider in fancy dress(that's how it looks to us) and go on to try and get a look at 10 downing.Unfortunately one needs a pass and in a very American way the place is out of bounds unless one has a pass.The long line of men in dinner jackets and woman in evening dress tell us that Mr Brown has something up his sleeve(the speaker of the house had just been elected and we had been praying for them at the abbey).So we move on knowing that there was no way of sneaking in(sneakers and track pants are sure shot way of being thrown out of any English establishment I would imagine).We move over to Trafalgar square(unfortunately I cannot help but compare Paris with London all the time)I look in vain for the pigeons(i think they have been shot but am not sure) which are few and far between,the fountains are crowded with people and as the husband refuses to climb on to the lions(not an easy task and requires some flexibility and gymnastic ability)i decide to do the honours.Young British schoolboy is enlisted to pull me up while the husband and friend push me forward(this requires a great deal of help and willpower when the only climbing one has done is a short flight of steps to the flat).Once there i get my photo ops(being fed to the lions has always been a photo op so nothing new)That done,we are ready to go back home,so the palace and st martins in the field are given a miss.Considering that I am beginning to sound more and more like prince Charles,it may be about time I paid the queen a visit.But that has to wait,so until then....goodnight