The drama queen

We are a family of three girls and each one is more different from each other as chalk is to cheese. The most colourful of the lot is the eldest. From childhood she was lost to the world of literature and lived out her life as one character to the other. She was and still is a drama queen. Nothing is quite the same when my sister is around. Considering we lost her to literature it's not surprising that normal everyday life is beyond her. Her costume cupboard is extensive as is her kitchen but while she may know every bit of her costume cupboard,her kitchen is quiet another matter. My husband believes in order and systems so makes it his mission to rearrange her kitchen cupboard into some system that will work. Over the years he has discovered many thing in that cupboard that my sister didn't know existed. Her standard response is that she has no time to do anything (not surprising since she lives in an alternate world). While she is a fantastic cook and can churn out dishes Ina jiffy we are all a bit vary about her cooking. Very much like the witches in Macbeth her cauldron may be filled with things we are not too sure of.

When she comes to the city we brace ourselves for a stormy stay. From the time she arrives it's almost like a tornado has hit the house. Our collective stress levels go up as she jumps from one activity to the other. Endless cups of tea will be followed by never ending snacking and before you can say jack robins the kitchen will look like a bomb site. Visit her at her home in the hills and you can be sure that she will crib about her lack of space and this when the house is rather large. Her house is reminiscent of aladins cave.....all manner of treasures can be found if only you knew where to look. She very much like my mother, is a hoarder,not a bit of paper will be thrown away and after a few years she will be inundated with stuff she has no use for. 

Her love of drama is only surpassed by her love of cooking. Her love for English literature ensures that all cooking will be recipes from some English country scene so don't be surprised if you find roast chicken and Yorkshire pudding on the menu with mashed potatoes. She is probably more English than the average English person.

All her mad hatter behaviours is a great source of entertainment for the rest of the family. There is never a dull moment when she is around. All tales are colourful and depending on the audience she will add a few colourful angles to the story. My mother swears that this trait started long before literature took over her life. My mother in her youth was subjected to such tall tales from her eldest daughter that over the years she has learnt to take everything she says with a huge bag of salt. My middle sister despairs over the eldest and their conversations always end in tears. As for me I watch and listen and am entertained but her housekeeping skills can drive me nuts (this from someone whose housekeeping skills are nothing to write home about). My husband thinks the world may greatly benefit from her skills if only she would put it to good use by writing a book but as my sister is always telling us .....where is the time?

A wedding to remember

It's the wedding we have all waited for. A child we knew from when she was about  two is now a young woman ready to be a bride. It's a longstanding friendship that brings us to this wedding. The father of the bride is one of those rare human beings who can unite diverse people and bring them all on one platform. He has the ability to form friendships that last forever,change with times and still maintain his basic personality. I have seen him over the years growing from an executive,changing jobs,changing roles getting more and more confidant and now here is organising one of the biggest events of his life,the marriage of his daughter. He has called friends from twenty years ago and as we come to the venue it's almost like a class reunion,we are trilled to see friends we have lost touch with,people we haven't seen in years and as the hours move more and more friends arrive till it's one big party with every one catching up on years of catching up. It's a happy occasion in more ways than one and our friend has been behind it. His organisation is fantastic. The wedding venue is one of the finest I have seen in years,no usual rush of the big fat Indian wedding,no crowds at the meal tables,it's all running like clock work and everyone is happy. In a big fat Indian wedding which this one certainly is more often than not chaos is the name of the game,not so here. The reception is even better,it's like a big event,the venue is decked out beautifully and the bride and groom are not stressed,we all get enough opportunity to meet and greet the couple and at the end of it all the big gang of friends who have converged from all over the country are congregated in one big room to party on into the night. As someone who would skip weddings simply because I find them too stressful this is one wedding I enjoyed and will remember for years to come. A friend who always lives on the edge and for whom stress is a way of life,has pulled of one of the finest events of his life and I can't but take my hat off to him and his wife for doing what they did and for all the happiness they created in the bargain.

Chennai to Bangalore

It's one thirty on a December afternoon and after two years we are on our way to Bangalore by train this time . We take a slow train so armed with magazines and things to eat we board. The train has dull brown seats,faded interiors and is not clean (not to my standards in any case). With enough time to kill I indulge in my pet pastime of peoples watching. The first interesting people I spy are pretty unique. A young couple,he in shorts,a loose t shirt,flip flops and an interesting bandana on his head. She is in all black jeans t shirt and pullover,hair tied back in no nonsense ponytail. The reason I watch then is that the girl is talking non stop with a great deal of animation but it evokes not a single response from the boy. His expression is one of bored tolerance and not a single other emotion crosses his face,nor does he respond verbally. Strangely this had no effect on the girl she continues to talk until it's time for the train to move when the boy stirs from his apathy and follows her into the train.....I wonder what kind of relationship they have two individuals communicating despite looking to be in their own private universe.

The train finally moves and we are at once assaulted by food vendors who ply their wares non stop,unfortunately none of them are even remotely healthy,all deep fried and served with oil dripping off them enough to block all arteries with just one look. Having packed a reasonably decent picnic of egg and pork sandwich we are safe from having to eat the stuff.

Now I for one loves peace and quiet ,I love solitude and am more than happy to be in the company of silent adults on train journeys but unfortunately in a train filled to capacity with at least eight hundred passengers this is asking for the moon. I will settle for a bit of silence though but the tv in the cabin is on full blast and weather I want to or not I am forced to listen to whatever is going on. A child in front then sets up a wail that will wake the dead and not just the dead but by the sound of it an entire graveyard. The screaming continues unabated and the parents are either deaf having to listen to it on a daily basis or are so immune as as to not bother. By now I will willingly strangle the child who is giving me a splitting headache and I would do anything to get it to shut up. No such luck and I wonder why parents who are incapable of controlling their kids insist on travelling by public transport. The mother is helpless having another demanding toddler hanging on to her but the grandparents for some inexplicable reason seem to think it's all very cute and in the meanwhile I suffer in silence. Fortunately (we had figured this out ages ago) the mother decide the kid was hungry and shovelled some food into its mouth after which peace reigned.

All that racket has made me need a rest so I fall into a fitful sleep very soon only to be awakened again by food aromas. Deciding its time for tea I order one and have trouble keeping it down. It's one of those over milky,over sugary drinks far removed from what tea ought to taste like but nevertheless I drink it. Finally the passengers are winding down so I sit back and enjoy the view which is pretty green and rich after all this is December and the best time of the year in this state. By the time I write this the sun is dipping into the western horizon and daylight begins to fade,food now has moved from snacks and tea to something more wholesome to do with the time.

Despite the grime,the noise,the dreary and the beautiful landscape I still love train journeys.