Vacations

holidays are not something we plan,not even the international ones.We decide on a whim to go and then work the logistics around it.When the heat of madras got too much we decided to go to Ooty,queen of the hills in our part of the world.After checking with nephews and nieces if they were free to keep my mother company (she refuses to step out of the house) and after checking with my sister if she was free to entertain us,we booked our tickets and waited happily for the day of departure.The heat continued to rise unabated and as we stayed drenched in sweat we counted the days to Ooty and coolness.On the day before departure,the weather changed.It was muggy and hot with a hint of rain and we wondered if the weather gods were to cheat us once again (the heat always travels with us).As the day progressed a cyclonic storm loomed large over the city and by the evening gusty winds howled through the house and the rain poured.The temperature dropped and a coolness set in.As we were ready to beat the heat we were beaten to it.Now we faced the prospect of missing lovely weather in our own city and the possibility that rain would delay our flight and the roads would flood and the car wouldn't take us to the airport.We had a serious fight about packing,the husband with his pucca ways and me with my habit of throwing things into the bag,this was not a nice situation.After an hour of joint yelling at each other we decided to cancel the trip.Half an hour later we had decided otherwise.The trip seems to be doomed from the start.The normal meticulous husband didn't charge his phone and had given only his number to the taxi people.There was no way they could contact us.The electricity failed and we were plunged into darkness and no sign of light in the morning.By this time desperate me was praying that everything would sort itself out as by now with one disaster following in the others wake,I was convinced that the plane would crash and we would be dead.....well god answered prayers and all was well.The aircraft took off and with a bit of turbulence we made our way out of the storm and towards the hills.First hurdle crossed

Lifes lessons learned

Everyday is a lesson learned.Having high expectations of life can be a good thing but it also means that one has to be clear about these expectations.If it involves people then its best to figure out who these people are and what to expect from them.With the family unit becoming smaller and smaller one realises that the family unlike in previous times,is not something one can depend on in a crisis.I have over the years had to deal with every crisis on my own and if it wasn't for friends who rallied around,helped out and allowed me to vent distress and frustration then where would I be.Asking for help is not something that comes easily to me simply because I have realised that a lot of people who offer help actually offer lip service when it comes to the real thing.Sometimes it angers me but at other times I ignore it keeping in mind that one more lesson has been learnt,whom to depend on.

Over the years our circle of friends have become smaller but all of us have learnt that unlike our parents we need to deal with loneliness,disease and depression on our own.We need to be able to handle every crisis on our own and all of us have in many ways started working towards it.Saving money planning our financials,discussing our wills,its always there at the back of our minds.Ours is the last generation of generosity,of giving without expecting and of being bound by duty and love.As India becomes younger and more affluent we will go through that phase when all that matters is self,when everyone is using everyone else to get at ones own ends.Its a depressing thought but a lesson learned.Yesterday when a lot of friends met up after many years under not the happiest of circumstances,we all realised how we help each other in out own ways,mine is to cook and feed,someone else is to comfort and be around and none of us overlap on our helplines,we work in perfect harmony,picking up where we left off,and as I looked over then I realised that family is really not so much about bloodlines but of compatibility and friends.This is my family,these are the people who are closest,the ones we discuss things with the ones who know a lot about us but wont judge us too much.Yes we have our differences but despite all that,we are there when needed most.

Helpless in the mango season

Sometimes the American way seems to be the only solution.Most Americans can sue for the silliest of reasons and in India on the other hand I cant sue anyone for anything and if i did I can think of paying a lawyer for years to come and be sure that other than burn a hole in my bank account,nothing much will come of it.

Take for instance today,a sleepy Sunday afternoon and the roads are empty and the sun blazes down in unrelenting heat.The neighbour has striped his mango tree of all its fruit save the branches that are too high.Now the only thing left are a bunch of tempting mangoes hanging from the high branches.We are just about thinking of having a cat nap when a loud noise accompanied by shattering glass tells us the all too familiar story.The local boys are out in large numbers,armed with stones to knock down the mangoes.Unfortunately aim is not one of their strong points so instead of getting the mango they get our window pane.This is a yearly summer occurrence.We rush out but are too late for the nimble limbed urchins,the neighbour is apologetic but cant do much.All it ensures is that we have a new and unexpected financial problem to deal with.We also know that its best to live with a broken window pane until the season is over or the boys will be back at it.

Now we talk about it but cant do a thing,we cant sue our neighbour or the street urchins,we cant sue the police for not keeping guard and we grin and bear it.We tell ourselves that we are lucky it wasn't the car that was damaged and send up a silent prayer that the boys don't get it next time.This is India and we learn to cope,swallow out anger,deal with our helplessness and try and count our blessings.This is the only way to survive this country

Woman of courage

Two very strong woman,one brought up seven boys single handed put them through the best schools and colleges,despite the husband having passed on rather suddenly and with financial problems mounting.Most people would have advised her to compromise on the children's education,after all seven boys cant be easy but she held on,saw them though and in the process earned the love and respect of the sons who realised that what their mother had done could only have happened thanks to a strong person she was.She died this year in her 80s,not having married again she lived her life,running the family and seeing to her children.I didn't know her personally but i hear the pride in her children's voices,I hear it again in her daughter in laws voice (and that should mean something).

I know another person also in her eighties battling for her life in a city hospital while her daughters stand by and do the best they can under the circumstances.I know her personally.Most people would say she is difficult,has a mind of her own and the word I think would be feisty.I always like visiting her,small gossip sessions are great fun.She would rule over her house and know all the happenings in the building adding her own bits and pieces so it would sound interesting.I visited her some six months ago and keeping in mind her medical condition,I took some fruits.She wasn't too happy about it but as her daughter was around I played safe.I met her again three months ago.This time I threw caution to the winds and took along a box of chocolate biscuits.Her delight was reward enough,she is the same age as my mother but has had to deal with widowhood in a brahmin community which I know is not the easiest of things.She has smart daughters who manage their lives very well and that cant go down well with the community at large either .I remember soon after I was married she invited me to a pooja.Now I don't generally go to poojas but I went for hers (ones doesn't refuse this person) and I remember she was most disgusted by the fact that I has not worn the bindi that most married woman wore.The fact that I am christian and didn't need any of that didn't go down well with her.The long and short of it is that she marched to her pooja room,took out the red powder and made sure I had a red mark on my forehead.She would call from time to time and we would share cribs on our maid servants.I remember one profound remark she made to me one day when I asked after her health.She told me in no uncertain terms that she would beat her cancer and die of old age and nothing else.As she fights for her life I remember that sentence,I remember how inspired I was at her courage,her positive outlook on a life that wasn't easy and I pray that whatever she is going through now,the gods of her pooja room and the god that I pray to will give her the courage and strength to go through all this.It take guts to be the kind of woman these two are and I haven't come across many of them in my lifetime.As I grow older I keep my role models always in my mind.It takes courage to be a woman and I hope I will learn from these remarkable but very ordinary woman.

The bored nephew

Why no blogs? asks a 21 year old nephew and I realise that he must be truly bored and fed up of college,if the only reading matter he has access to is my blog.I promised him I would write about him as nothing seems to inspire me in the sweltering heat of this city.Of course that's not to say he inspires me but nevertheless as I have been party to a lot of his growing up one must say there is a story of sorts there.

He was a much awaited child (or so I think) and my sister being the fussy kind was most worked up during his birth.She was so sure that the boy wouldn't bother to make an entry into the world the natural way that she insisted on a C section to avoid any mishap.Unfortunately for her the date was anywhere between the 17th and 19th of March which she realised made him a piscean,which wasn't so bad in itself but if you had even the faintest belief in destiny and astrology then it wasn't so nice.According to most books,those born under this sign are dreamers (not acceptable in anyone least of all in a boy born into an Indian family) and having already had a sister born under the same sign made it even worse.Her first thoughts on his birth was that he may just turn out like the younger sister who happened to be not just a dreamer but a rebel to boot which is not the best of combinations.A lot of the family described me as moody,silent,mysterious and generally disagreeable so it wasn't a very good collection of traits to have and my poor sister was convinced that he would go the way of the younger sister.Well 21 years later I am sorry to say I had no influence on the boy except in the manner of a sharp retort and his uncanny way of not answering any question that he thinks may incriminate him in any manner.

We didn't have much contact with the boy over the years as he lived on one tea estate after the other but in the few times that we did visit he had turned out to be a bit if a spoilt single child,the only other thing beating him in the spoilt department was the family dog.Being animal he managed to get the better of the boy and in one single demonstration of this fact the dog choose to grab the cricket stumps and sit on it while the boy fretted and fumed that his game was spoilt.The dog of course had no intentions of parting with what he thought was a bargaining tool and the game ended with the dog walking away with all the glory.

He was in his early years a great fan of planes,cars,the sportstar magazine and the newspaper.The moment he learnt to read he would grab the newspaper and read the fine print on the sports pages.We all believed that he would end up playing cricket for the country,or become a racer etc,fond hope indeed but when one lives in Kerala the only options are to become an engineer or a doctor and in the end he did end up in an engineering college and save his honour in the land of his birth.

His ability to fend for him self (not a skill to be demonstrated when the mother was around,then he would play helpless,press all the right buttons and have the mother at his beck and call) was obvious from early days.He had an obsessive love of chocolate and after overdose after overdose he was told that he was allergic to the stuff.Naturally enough his mother banned any form of chocolate from his diet.But on holidays at our home,he would charm my mother and the moment his mother and i left the house he would demand that his grandmother bake a chocolate cake.Feeble attempts at a refusal met with some very sound arguments on the merits of chocolate,his mothers over protection on his behalf,how he needed to overcome his allergy (his logic was that to eat chocolate despite his body's protests,would eventually win the allergy war) etc and before his mother could get back home he would have had his cake and eaten it too.

The stories are never ending but I shall stop with this account which was till he was somewhere in the region of six or seven......we lost touch for a long time afterwards and pick up again after he goes to college....very few stories are known of that period and one is forced to piece together bits and pieces taken from various facebook updates and friends comments which unfortunately is no basis for a story so one hope that the boy enjoys this update and can find more stimulating reading matter in the near future

I Remember

I went on to a school group and discovered that my memory is nothing compared to the girls and boys at school who can recall dates,mysteries and all things connected with school so i decided to out down the things i remember of school,guess the ones i remember are probably the ones that made the most impact so here goes.

I remember the first day at school,feeling betrayed because no one explained to me that i couldn't sit in the same class as my older sister

I remember Mrs Karr she who gave me all the dolls and books to read and who read to me a frightened six year old at her first day in school

I remember another teacher who was an ex air hostess and I hated her,I wasn't good enough for her so she picked on me despite being the best in lessons

I remember having to stand on the chair as punishment for talking in class,for getting my needlework all wrong,and having my school belt taken off as additional punishment

I remember climbing a tree in the school campus,getting caught and having my father summoned to school on a complaint that i wasn't behaving like a girl (I think that's when i started to rebel against convention)

I remember having to do all the long talking parts in school plays because I had a clear voice and good pronunciation ( after having been forced to listen to the BBC everyday how could i not)

I remember throwing stones at the tamarind tree and eating all the ripe tamarinds

I remember catching dragon flies and grasshoppers and stuffing them into my pockets

I remember the school play field flooding during the rains and becoming a lake and we were forbidden to venture out

I remember the big evergreen tree near the new classroom that had to be cut and how we discovered all the birds nest among its branches

I remember hating games period and managing to get our watchman out on some errand and changing the hands of the clock ahead of time

I remember scripture union meeting when i collected money for less fortunate children though I didn't like the scripture union master too much,he had too many favourites and i wasn't one of them

I remember lunch hour when the Anglo Indian girls brought mutton curry that was so green it looked and tasted amazing.

I remember getting my shoes wet in the rains and wishing I had patent leather shoes like some of the other girls had (my parents though they were a waste of money )

I remember the days after the exams and before the holidays when we could bring our toys to school and play all day

I remember teachers day when the teachers entertained us and I remember the sweet grape juice with ice and the lovely mint sandwiches

I remember marching to chopsticks every morning to assembly

I remember trembling on days when report cards were given

I remember the hymns of term end,"now thank we all our god"

I remember the school hymn "oh god our help in ages past"

I remember music class where we sang "teddy bears picnic"

I remember the song "my little brown jug"

Oh that's about what i can remember thus far,but there is a lot more and in eleven years there were the good ones and the bad ones...another time and place

Saving marriages

We have been married for a dozen years and been friends for longer so after knowing the husband for some nineteen odd years,one gets used to certain comforts.Its almost like we can finish sentences for each other,we can think alike decide what to do without worrying about what the other will think.Some folks might find this boring,some people will find this non exciting.So what do I think.Well why am i writing this.Simply because we have far too many friends who are on to second marriages some disaster stories some just sad and sometimes just sometimes there are stories that make me worry,make me sad because there are nice people who took the trouble to understand each other and loved each other and suddenly its all over.It scares me when I see couples with children,happy families that break up suddenly for no reason at all.Does one take sides,does one have to choose who one will be friends with when they split up.Does one need to take the trouble to talk to them,counsel them try to get them back together.I am not sure.At what point does one know that its all over,is it sudden death or a gradual drifting away.I know of perfectly nice men who tell me they are so busy providing for wife and kids that they don't have personal time.I know they mean well but ask the mentioned wife and kids and they probably would be happier with his time than his money.Wives who play roles that they think is what they is expected of them...finally its about making time for the little things,watching a movie,having a conversation,going for a walk or just having a nice roaring fight and making up later.Life is all about the small things,nothing is complicated unless we want to make it so.But how do we come to such conclusions,how do we save a marriage.I don't know and I pray that i wont have to make such choices.For me its still the little things and i hope to stay that way but i wish i could convince some of my friends about this.

Mosquito tennis

Sports-never has been and never will be my strong point,yet over the last few years I have had the misfortune of suffering from tennis elbow.Now how could someone with no sense of tennis or co ordination get into such a situation.Well the answer lies in the life that is in Chennai.For as long as we can remember tennis was a passion for most people as was cricket.The ATP tour comes to Chennai every Jan and we all troop like good pilgrims to the stadium and eat and cheer and do everything like good tennis lovers.Now tennis is an expensive game and not everyone can become an accomplished player but if your are like me then over time (in fact in a very short time) you could become a great player.My backhand has improved so much as has all other aspects of my game.And this is the new trend in Chennai.Its called mosquito tennis.Now this is not funny and remember just as in the actual game here the target is always on the move,can cover vast areas of space which means one has to swing ones bat over a large radius.Keep your eye on the mosquito and make sure all returns of serve are accurate.They come in hoards and everyone and his uncle in Chennai own a bat.Its the hottest selling piece of Chinese equipment that flies off the shelves.Mosquito is almost ready to be included into the commonwealth games.After all didn't malaria come from Africa and India and didn't the mosquito spread it?.I practise every day from 5pm till dinner time and that's a lot of hours of practise to clock.There is no time for ball change,court change etc.This is in real time and this is the fast and furious.Remember the ball (in this case the mosquito) can cause serious damage.Now most kids in Chennai are born with a mosquito bat in their hands.Gone are the days of the silver spoon,nothing and nobody is spared.So if your wondering why Chennai produces all the best known tennis stars in India remember its largely due to a long dirty river,stagnant water and the ever present mosquito who fires our first and best interests in Tennis..

Cattyness

Do I love animals?,perhaps I do but not sure if I can handle the responsibility of bringing up a domestic creature.Very much like children everyone tell me....well I don't have children and tremble with fear at the thought of having any and then bringing them up in today's world.So what was I thinking when I got involved with a cat.Strangely he landed up in our building some two months ago a tiny piece of goods,abandoned by his mother and in search of food.Now cats are not my favourite animals and like a lot of people i have reservations about them.Unfortunately I also have a heart that melts easily and the sight of the poor creature was too much to ignore.A saucer of milk and the kitten was happy,more milk followed and before I knew it he had a name and a personality,I then graduated to giving him fish.He loved it and would show his appreciation by climbing on to my shoulder and biting my ears.We played endlessly at all times of the day and he got used to me ,the building and its people.We all collectively fell in love but I was the worst hit.He knew how to press all the right buttons.Unfortunately he had to be a building cat as I lack the discipline to bring up a kitten and the husband doesn't like to have animals in the house (a battle that i am fast loosing,especially when the choice is husband or animal).He managed well and we all fell into our own ways of dealing with our lives and him until one unfortunate day we pest controlled the house and our poor kitten was poisoned.Thankfully that soft heart of mine also has a brain that can think,so before we knew it he was being rushed to the vet and then brought home to stay in our balcony and be looked after day and night.None of us including the vet expected him to make the night but survive he did and slowly he got better.House painting was on the cards and we couldn't expose our already vulnerable kitten to more toxins so we called a friend who is a major cat person and she took him home with a promise to bring him back when we had the house back.Now the big question is what the time frame it takes for a street kitten to become a house pet.Not much I would say and when he came back I realised he was no longer fit to be a building cat.He was far more comfortable on my lap,on the cushion and was not happy being outside,trying very hard to come home so the long and short of it was that in all his distress he was sent back to the comfortable home that he had gotten used to for ten days.Will he continue to stay there or will he be sent to someone else is antibody's guess.Am I sad?,well yes and no.I cried my lungs out when i said goodbye the first time,this time its a sense of loss but one part of me says that if I cant give him a home,then I have no business to keep him.All I can hope and pray for is a good home and loving people because he is a wonderful animal and he captured my heart and if I continue to fall in love again in the same way very soon bits of my heart will be all over the place.Confused,and in love....well don't the two always go together....such is like...

The inland letter

I had spent a lot of time yesterday (like many other days) talking to friends on phone,chatting on chat and so on and at the end of the day I was left wondering what I was left with.Let me explain...of course there is a chat history that one can go back to,there are ways to store sms messages for a long time,but in the face of all this technology(which I am a great fan of) I missed the old inland letter and the postcard and the aerogram of the Indian Postal Service.I grew up in a time when cell phones didn't exist and the land line was a symbol of affluence (it was the most difficult thing to get with long waiting lists).When school closed for the holidays we had to take a bus and visit friends within the city.To keep in touch with those far away we bought inland letters in bulk and filled every available space with news of our day to day happenings,we mentioned all the time how much we missed our friends.To those friends in far flung countries,we sent air mail letters.It was fun shopping for the thinnest letter paper as the price of postage went up with the weight so we filled pages of onion skin paper (always in pink and blue shades) and posted them and waited for a reply.Considering that we used normal post (couriers were unheard of in those days) chances are that it took a while to get a reply.Our mornings were spent waiting for the post man who happened to bring smiles all around.I don't remember so much junk mail or bills arriving.It was always letters from grandparents,friends and some times a post card.I used this means of communication for years,even after I had started working.I still remember all those letters that boyfriends or some special friends sent(I preserved the ones I thought were special).I tied them all together with pink satin ribbons and kept them long after those relationships died and were forgotten.When my mother decided to clean up the attic i still remember the box of letters she handed to me saying it was time to burn them.There were at least ten bunches.I read them all again,after many years,and the memories were sweet and sometimes sad.I marvelled at the childishness of some of the letters,the sentiments of the others and the silliness of some more.I remember how sad I felt at burning them,they were memories of a lifetime but then they were of no use anymore,so I burned them all.Today I look around for those recorded memories,things to go back to,to recollect and I find nothing.Of course I find it easier to keep in touch,I know I am a lot more updated on what my friends do but all said and done I still love the way the odd Christmas card arrives,the day someone sends me a birthday card and all this despite the fact that sms messages come on all significant days.Call me sentimental but a personal letter cant be replaced by chat or sms or phone calls however easier or convenient they may be.Somethings are just irreplaceable

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