My mad mad mind

Yesterday,I discovered what it felt like to be van Gog.I was steadily loosing my mind,and by the evening the deterioration was complete.I am not sure what brought it along.Probably an anxiety attack but the point is it was scary.I had lost control.Lets face it the stress has been building up for a while and when there is no one to talk to it all goes into ones system.Additionally I had to discharge a sick father from hospital.Just as that was done I had to rush to office to do interviews.May have been pleasant if I didn't have to meet the kind of people I do.They were the kind i would have nothing to do with.Add to that there was no time for lunch and before I knew it the chemicals in my brain had got the better of me.Slowly I was reduced to tears,if someone spoke to me I was hysterical,driving in that state is dangerous but I had not choice but to reach home and then it all come apart.At that point the wise thing would have been to take a sedative and go to sleep but I have this great fear of getting addicted so there it was,handling it all in a sane manner(if that is possible).By the time the husband arrived all hell had broken loose.He had called the mother(mine....bad decision) and the sisters called and I was a wreck.

I finally fell into a tired sleep.This morning I seem back to normal self.I am still trying to figure out what happened,I am trying to recreate the events that led to the breakdown.Its not a nice feeling and thank god I am not some creative genius because I may have cut off my ear at this rate.Oh to be normal again.

Discrimination right here

Everyone who goes abroad comes back with some story or the other about racial discrimination.I was warned about it in Spain,France and Germany but lucky me never had to face it.For now no one seems to be able to slot me into a nationality so that's a blessing,so many times I am mistaken for south American,Spanish etc.Suites me fine as otherwise I would draw unnecessary attention to myself.So for me racial discrimination exists somewhere.
Until today...right here in good old Chennai.Here is a so called lifestyle store called the Amethyst.Its usually full of the hip and happening and is a complete rip off.Not the kind of place I frequent but one is expected to sit there for hours sending mail or reading and generally meeting friends.Nice ambiance,old house et all but for the staff and the owner(i believe it all stems from the top).
Today i sat there reading my paper waiting to get...first of all a menu card.It took around 30 minutes for someone to condescend to give me one.Then no amount of attracting the attention of the waiter would help.The place you see was filled with white skins.Around 90% of the people there were not Indian.Were the waiters trained to attend only to the white skins.There they were at the beck and call of all them foreigners and not one of them bothered to come over to take the order.Am I surprised?....not really,on many occasions when I have been forced to meet someone at that place I have seen this happening.We talk of racial discrimination abroad but its alive and kicking right here in Madras and it makes me feel sick.If we cant appreciate what we have in our own country then we have no business complaining about being discriminated against.Places like these run by people who are still slaves to the white man will continue to treat the ones at home with scant respect.Unfortunately these places also hog the media limelight despite the rip off prices,the highly overrated ambiance and the slack service or just the lack of it.I believe its criminal on my part to even be seen there so the next time someone suggests the place guess I will have to decline.

My diary

Just realised that its over a year since I started this blog.Why did I?.Well at that point I was bored out of my skull and couldn't stick to anything for too long.This was yet another experiment but its become part of me.Its a great feeling to write,just about anything.It clears my mind and it brings back things long forgotten and a lot of my friends and family read but like me they are far too lazy to leave comments so I guess I should be happy just being me.
I started my first diary when I was six.My elder sister gave me a readers digest pocket diary(she thought a six year old wont have much to write home about)and I was so trilled that it went on till I was around twelve.I reread my six year old writing when I was around thirteen and was shocked at how my life revolved around the number of times I had had to go to the loo,or the number of times I ate with a faithful detail of the menu.Looks like I had this great weakness for Amul butter and hot rice.
My uncle in Kerala chanced on the diary once and was suitably impressed with my detailed account of my trips to the loo.You see a lot of it was written while on holiday in Kerala(my wise sister thought that was the best way to keep me out of her hair).The loo was always a good mile walk from the main house.It required climbing down many a mud step to reach the place which smelt of fresh earth,mulberries and centipedes.My sisters would have to fetch water from the well and bring it along.I wasn't allowed to draw water as the weight of the bucket and I were around the same and by some convoluted Kerala physics,that meant that there was every chance of my falling into the well so best avoided.Because the loo was so far away and I had this huge fear that I wouldn't be able to control myself,I would run very often(more than necessary)just to be safe.My biggest fears were the nights.My sisters refused to leave the house at night and poor me was forced to use the vegetable patch.That was traumatic as I was convinced that all the goblins were out to get me(my sister read tons of fairy tales to me everyday and it fuelled an already active imagination)Besides which there was a pig at home who for some strange reason has a fascination for a bare bottom(especially if it belonged to a child).I think I had plenty to write home about even if it was only about my loo trips.Till date most of what I remember of that house is its loo.

Chemistry and bike rides

Starting to write about old friends,set off a chain,old friends called recalling old memories so I decided that we were an interesting bunch and some more stories should follow.
Over the years we added on to our gang,but the core group remained the same.For around six years the old gang met almost every evening.Since the chemistry was being designed by Chubby and Intensity,there was a lot of plotting and planning going on which if one was not in the know,could slip past.
It happened pretty suddenly one evening.There I was walking to the bus stop(we didn't have our own transport then) and the two of them walk up to me casually and ask for some help in choosing clothes.The Raymond shop being close by didn't give me a clue so I graciously agreed to help.The general idea was to choose something for intensity as he couldn't make up his mind(i figured out later that he was very good and making up his mind and has no issues on clarity of thinking).I went through a lot of stuff and finally decided on something by which time it was well after eight in the night.Of course Chubby then decided that it was too late for nice girls to be going home alone so he casually mentioned that Intensity lived near my place and could he drop me home(chubby was my friend at that time and he was the common link so took it upon himself to be spokesperson)Intensity jumped at it but not before putting forth his own idea of a bite before we took off,so we landed up eating something at which point he tells"you have a lovely voice.(I nearly chocked on my milkshake,since when did I have a nice voice...and now he complains that its a squeak)Well after that there was no point in refusing though I had my doubts then if all was as innocent as I thought it was.I never realised until many years later that that was what hitting on was in those days.Poor me on a mites salary was more than happy to get a ride and a free meal and he didn't seem like a bad sort(or I thought I could deal with him).Well he drove like a bat out of hell (think he was showing off,and does so even now)and landed me home safe and sound,hung around at the gate to do small talk(and I was wondering when he would just go home).
The next day was just a casual "would you like a lift home" and then it kind of became a regular thing.I believe the first part of their plan had worked beautifully.

old age,old friends

I have lived with old age for the past ten years.Besides spotting my first grey hair and wrinkles,I have been witness to my parents grow old before my eyes.It is probably the most traumatic process in my life and it drains and saps me mentally and physically.If this is what it does to me I can imagine what it does to them.To be sick is not an easy situation,to be helpless and dependent is worse especially when one has been at the helm of things and run the show,taken decisions,been financially independent and so on.Today in the twilight years the tables are turned and its not easy to accept.
Opinions are divided on this situations.A number of my family probably think I make a big deal of it but to be in the situation is to know,to watch suffering is to feel and the best one can do is to bend over backward to ensure the best medical attention that money can buy.
Today was one such situation and I have to thank my friends from school and college.Over the last few years we have developed a network of old friends,girls we have dredged up from the past,girls who have grown up with me from the age of six and today those girls bailed me out.
Desperate with a father who is ill and not getting better,I had got hold of a doctor who actually makes house calls(a rare occurrence).My husband was instrumental in getting this organised and he supports in small but significant ways which help and support me psychologically.The doc ordered a number of test and the results proved that the father was on a real low keel probably needing hospitalisation.She recommended a geriatric doctor but didn't have his number.Desperate to get medical attention organised,I call the school girl network(why I don't know but I guess they know what i go through,they understand urgency without being told and all of them have old parents or parent and they know mine)She called a cousin who is a medical rep and gave me sketchy directions to the doc.While she did that,yet another schoolfriend located yet another school friend and help was arranged.
We got to the doc,organised the medication,got the phone number of emergency services and came home feeling a lot better.We may not have st oped nature in any way,but in my heart I am glad that I haven't written my dad off as being old enough to die.For me while there is life there is hope and I am convinced that I have to pull out all the stops to get the parents the best I can find.Too many in my family have died because they have been too far away from the nearest hospital.
It 8.30pm of yet another trying day and I will probably get hauled up for bunking work but its probably one thing I will not regret.

our great pondy trip

The friends gang had put together a trip to Pondycherry,the chubby boy had a cousin who had a flat and a car.That twenty years ago was really something.We girls were warned that he was good looking but the rules of friendship did not permit hitting on friends cousins.We promised to keep to rules (I had no intentions of doing so if there was a good looking boy around but somethings are best not admitted).
The group was to have three boys,chubby,intensity and nice boy along with ms proper,reckless me and hip and happening other girl.Ms proper and I got cold feet as the departure date came along.In those days nice mallu girls didn't go away for weekend trips with gang of boys.So we put our heads together and decided that all parents had given permission to go (that's the story we would tell our respective mothers should they ask)and the boys were not to be mentioned.One of them was (nice boy)mentioned because he was married and that made him safe and very appropriate as chaperon.
So all packed we set off to the bus stand(we slummed it out in them days).Chubby and intensity had got all the chemistry worked out(we were unaware) so the seating arrangements were planned in advance,chubby would share bus seat with ms proper and intensity with me.Hip and happening was spoken for so was paired with nice boy.
The trip itself was rather dull.Chubby was all charm and grace in front and intensity was fast asleep even before the bus started(nothing has changed in that department).Of course he didn't last very long sleeping,made sure he woke up and talked.(i am pretty good at getting people to talk).Noticed for the first time that he had nice hands(have this thing for hands).
Arrive in the dead of night and no sign of cousin.Tired and dirty we are ready to kill chubby (he promised that his organisation skills were a notch above ours).Well ,before we got our knives out the cousin appeared.Hmm....rather nice.Six foot something (our gang was in the range of five feet something)and pretty good.Hip and happening was quick off the mark and made a beeline for cousin(all rules forgotten).We hung back(after all we cant be so blatant).Sometime in the night we got accommodation at the ashram.One huge room with dom beds.Ms proper and I were a bit taken aback(nice mallu girls didn't share rooms with boys,even friends)but since there wasn't a choice we buckled down to it.
The rest of the holiday went crazy,we spent the night playing cards.Intensity was very good at it(he still is tho now the rules have changed).Me -gave everyone a good facial(ponds cold cream taken from ms proper...you could count on her to have everything,band aid,cold cream,tissue etc)
The cousin was also now part of group and we insisted on taking pictures.The photos we go back to from time to time because it brings back so many memories.(many a dispute on who was hitting on who,but cant find the answer)
Next day,we went around the town in cousins car.Chubby decided to drive(he wasn't very good then).Unfortunately for us the governor decided to leave at that moment and we were there(bang in front of his car).His security detail tried in vain to get us off the road(i will be killed for this but chubby hadn't a clue how to move out of the way,so he kept to the straight line)We girls were convinced that the security chaps would blow our brains out(they were all there guns at the ready)so we got hysterical and yelled instructions which get chubby more confused.Well we just got away and so did the Governor(to this day raj bhavan pondy brings back that hilarious situation and i can laugh myself silly).
While we were out on the beach trying out stuff (hip and happening,tried her first cigarette,ms proper and I played in the water while the boys looked on,and nice boy kept watch....no mischief under his nose,he was in charge)nice boy got the food organised and cousin got the drinks done.Unfortunately the cousin was warned by chubby so he kept his distance from us (deeply disappointed at that turn of things...what are friends for and all that).
Time to leave and we find that nice boy had gone back to the room (unknown to us) and is fast asleep.There was a bus to catch and he refused to get up.Threw water on him and that got his goat.He yelled so much and gave us a talking to and asked us to leave him alone(I suspect two days with us was too much to handle)
So we were back on the bus and safe home but to this day,the entire gang will agree that that was one of the best days of our lives.

friends

Fifteen years ago,when I joined a publishing house as a newcomer,there were hardly any people I could relate to.Desperate to get some company,I latched on to the only other girl in office.She had been around a year longer so knew her way around.There were of course others ,all sniffing around trying to figure out the new kid on the block but as a vary one I kept my distance and got a low down on each of them from the girl I had befriended.That done I got along with some of them but for the better part they were a set of secretive,mallus who one is best advised to keep away from.
Of course over the course of the next few years we had all become friends.Out of this office emerged a group of friends some four to begin with and which went on to perhaps six in all.Twenty years later,we still remain friends and still call on each other in times of crisis and pain.We have had our share of woes,our differences of opinion and our little fights.Despite the ups and downs the relationships flourished and merged so that now four of the original gang have become two(we married our good friends) and the others we meet when we visit their towns or call .
Why I am writing this?A short while ago (one of them who now has long chats with me on gmail )one of them and I were being nostalgic about those them days and I suggested we make a film on our lives in those wonder years.Knowing how lazy each of us is,I figured the best thing to do was blog.
It starts with the short curly haired mallu girl.She of the boarding school kind is very pucca,well mannered,neat to a fault and quiet the perfect little miss.Me...the exact opposite,reckless,untidy,always eating into her space at the work table(despite well worded protests).I sometimes think I did it just to bug her.She reminded me so much of my very proper sister.
The boys(who will now object violently to being called that).One chubby boy with glasses who joined my team and gave me a rose on the first day(give me a break who did he think he was)Amused,I gave him a little rope and we were thrown together so often that we ended up being friends.He was all charm and upmarket aftershave(indulgent sister in the states)His great fondness for unearthing even a remote possibility of a scandal was a great source of inspiration.With his half baked news and mine,we always arrived at the latest office gossip long before the others.
A year later chubby got his friend along to join us in the same organisation.Thin and pimply and a certain tightness (in later years I discovered it was intensity)this boy and I had a huge fight the day we met.Chubby enjoyed himself to the hilt but claimed later (in hindsight) that this was the beginning of a great romance between the boy and me.(to be taken with huge bag of salt despite it turning out to be true).
Over the next couple of months the boys for some strange reason always ended up with girl and me.It started with having lunch together,then trips to the beach(boys and girl had bike,I was always pillion).The beaches changes ,the winds changed and before we knew it there was something in the air.We didn't acknowledge it but the equations were there.Chubby and I on one team and girl and intense boy on the other.Healthy rivalry fuelled the friendship.It was a strange chemistry.Four people so alike and yet so different.Girl always laughed at intense boys jokes.I couldn't find anything funny about them and neither did chubby.Chubby and I loved to create intrigue and danger (it never existed) because that's what kept us going so we were branded together,moles we were constantly digging up dirt.
I think what kept this gang going was that one half was lazy ,indulgent,untidy and always hungry and the other was organised,dedicated,neat and very proper.
A couple of years later the gang expanded to include one more girl (hip,smart and out to enjoy life) and a boy (looked older than us) who lived on the edge.He was so different from us that he became friend instantly.Simple homespun charm was what he had and to this day he remains at heart the same chap.
The bonds remain even though we meet rarely but the stories and memories continue and we shall bring them up as and when memories bubble up.
(all characters in this story exist and even though they may protest about my descriptions,this is my version of the association)

ends and beginnings

Its a full circle now.Today the start of a new year with all its ups and downs.Last evening driving home in traffic,it struck me,difficult to explain but a certain something in the air.Clear anticipation.Was there less traffic,were there more crowds at shops,was everyone in a better mood.I cant figure it out but it was there,a certain atmosphere of a new beginning and it communicates in the air.By nightfall it was getting stronger.By midnight the crackers went off to summon the new year,sms messages non stop,parties late into the night.
The city was well prepared,the barricades were all ready at the beach front,the police was stationed at vantage points,hotels outdid themselves in creativity(some of it led to tragedy).How does a new year become so universal.In our country I can name a number of new years,tamil,punjabi and so on.According to different religions and stars but the New year of the Christian calender is universal.
This morning in church,some more history or myth but nevertheless interesting information.The new year was the baptism of the baby Jesus according to Jewish rights.This morning a 350 year old oil painting restored and rededicated to the church alter.This morning I knew all the hymns at church.I looked at the selection of hymns in awe.Yesterday I sang most of them in the car while in traffic.Why those songs....they were the favourites at school and this morning it all took me back to school assembly,the checking for clean nails,the hiding of dirty shoes,hoping the head teacher wouldn't notice,the playing of the piano for us to march in to assembly and like magic the priest at the church today was the uncle of the only boy who was a friend at school.It was indeed a trip down memory lane at the start of the year.

The cobbler

last week in the mad rush of last minute gift buying,I dashed into a bookshop only to be stoped dead in my tracks thanks to the slipper giving way at the wrong time.One snap and I was stranded on the steps and up against a deadline.What did I do?....just two doors away was Metro shoes so I limped my way across,bought a pair for some 800 odd bucks(not even a pair that I would normally buy) and got back to bookstore with new shoes on and finished all my buying and didn't stop to think much.The broken pair of slippers were left behind in the shop.
A week later caught in peak traffic on mount road,I allowed myself the luxury of looking around at the world while I waited for the lights to change.On the pavement sat a dumpy woman and in front of her were a pair of men's shoes,a pair of boots and an elegant pair of high heeled shoes.She wasn't selling shoes,she was repairing them and then it struck me.I had discarded a pair of slippers without a thought and invested in a new pair.I didn't for a moment think of the possibility that it could be repaired and this is exactly what I would have done a few years ago.It was almost like oneupmanship on friends.All of us got our shoes resoled and redone at regular intervals and we had these shoes for years.Not for us the impulse buys or the throw aways,so what happened to all of us?.We got affluent,we got better pay and so called better lifestyles and in the process we forgot the small trills of life.The hunt for a cobbler near the scene of the broken shoe,the haggling over price of repair and the trill of getting our old shoe back.
The lights turned green and I had to go but at the back of my mind I wanted my broken slipper back,I want to locate a cobbler in that area and I want to stitch it back but alas that moment has passed and I have joined the ranks of the busy and the affluent and it takes a red traffic light for me to appreciate the small pleasures of life,but am I glad there is still some sensitivity left and some happy memories of friends and cobblers.

learning

I have had a lot of learning's this past week and suddenly I am pretty proud that I am still able to learn,still stay strangely innocent in a world where childhood,teens and adulthood are no longer separate stages in life or have each of them got shorter and seems that way.
For instance I went of work in Jeans.That was a first.Never done this but the world around me had changed dress code so what was I doing in my salwar kameeze?.Its pretty liberating to feel like one is back in college,and maybe somewhere my mind will do a flip back to some radical thinking like I did all those years ago.
I also discovered this new community of friends with benefits...for the uninitiated this is not about watching out for the gas man by friendly neighbours,its not about leaving your pet with friends while you holiday.This is simple,a relationship with no commitment,just sex on demand.I think that kind of sums it up.Interesting because by definition friends means commitment on way or the other so that didn't quiet ring true.Secondly these are communities of people who are perfectly sure of what they are getting into and most of them are pretty young(at least by my standards).They are all well aware that the heart may play to a different tune but they control their hearts so that's fine.It opened my eyes to the new age.I think this did exist in some form or the other in the hippie days but now its a norm among the young and restless.I marvel at their control over their hearts,their emotions.
I stop to wonder why for me those walks on the beach,roses and old fashioned chocolates,discussions on books and holidays and stuff like that was what I considered benefits.
I also learned to talk to people twenty years younger than me and stay connected.Its like starting over.I learned to lower my standards to suite the current situation,I am learning that peoples values have changed and while I don't have to change mine,I need to understand the change and deal with it.In between my black and white and grey world,there is a tinge of blue.Like I said I am getting a first hand lesson in emerging sociology and I am still discovering.Do I like what I see and hear?...well does it matter as long as I am aware of the changing world and lean to live in it.

This too must pass

For me December is the cruelest month.Its the start of the end of the year,another ending as a prelude to yet another beginning.Mixed with happiness and sadness,both existing side by side.This December started like all others,except that that heavy sadness that envelopes me (despite the parties and the Christmas spirit) was missing.Its been too busy.
Well into the third week,and the sadness is all prevailing,news of loved ones passing on,the burden of having to break the news to old parents,the psychological handholding that needs to be done,its all taking its toll.I hope to wish it all away but its there,real stuff,cannot be avoided.The closer to Christmas and the sadness continues.
I have already attended two Christmas parties.Laughter,the spirit of Christmas good food and great friends,I enjoy myself,sing all the carols,laugh and enjoy myself and then it happens.This cloak of sadness deepens and wraps around me tighter.Its always there like a constant companion,despite the fun.
The Christmas tree is not up yet,after nine years,we want a new one.The annual Christmas party is still on the drawing board,despite friends telling me they are looking forward to it.Its the highlight of our year.It always has a friend from out of town and a few new people always but like all years the party will materialise at short notice.The apathy this year is killing.
A new job,meeting new people,new cities,travel,all this is what makes life interesting.It all that I wanted out of life and now its all here and I don't need it anymore.
This is a strange phase,its almost like being two people.One the party animal ready for any outing with friends,the other this brooding person.
Like some thick thunderclouds that clear suddenly to expose bright sunshine,I wait....black clouds always pass and this too shall pass.

Womens best friend

In the last week I have had an overdose of rottweiler love.Like lady Macbeth I have had to wash my face and hands at regular intervals thanks to some lavish licking from a few over enthusiastic rottweilers.
My first reaction to being introduced to one of them was to run ten miles in the opposite direction.Here I was faced with the dogs from omen and from Hitlers SS forces and was I expected to be trilled.Most certainly not.To begin with they weigh some hundred pounds and look rather scary,but when they get to be friendly they are a class apart.My first encounter was a timid one.While my friend held tightly to the leash I tried patting the dog .At the first sign of a positive,reaction,I decided to be friends.Not sure if this was a good thing.For the next few hours I had to run and play hide and seek and get thrown over until in sheer exhaustion I had to call for a stop.Four years later I met the dog again.This time she was ill and her energy was not what it was.Long hours of talking didn't get much of a response so I sat her down and talked and tried to play but all she wanted was a bit of attention.She stayed for hours by my side and her liquid brown eyes conveyed a thousand unsaid things.I left the house wondering if i would see her again as the energy ball that she was.Didn't have the heart to say goodbye so left it at that.
Yesterday,I was introduced to two more of the same breed.One was a year old and she had made some unsuccessful attempts to get into my car and having failed to do so she settled for being a long lost friend.Unfortunately when a hundred pound animal throws itself at one its not easy to keep the balance.She was almost as tall as me and decided that two paws on shoulder was a good licking position.So there I was being greeted with a lot of doggy saliva.
The other dog was six months old and was far more interested in the happenings on the road though she loved all the attention.They have promised to come home for tea.

Not everyone can understand my fascination with the rottweiler.From their unsavory reputation to being guard dogs,to killer dogs,they are probably the most misunderstood breed.The average Rottweiler like a lot of people is a loving and socialised dog provided the family that owns it instill the right values in the dog.All three that I know come from families that give them a lot of love and time and take them for walks and actually introduce them to their friends.Non of them are tied up because there are guest in the house.We had to get used to them and I for one hope to get a pup the moment I decide to stay at home full time.These original german dogs are as reliable as any peice of german technology that one can get today so for me it will always be a rottweiler

Weekend at sword hill

Valparai-sword rock as the literal translation would go is a small place up in the Annamalai range.As the name suggests this is an elephant hill and was the migratory path of the elephant into the forest.

By road this is a 13 km drive from Chennai and thanks to some excellent roads the drive is an absolute pleasure provided one can get away early morning well before city traffic can get to one.The smart way to get there is to take a train to Coimbatore and drive up the ghat sections with its 40 hairpin bends and take in the breathtaking view of the Aliya dam,which glistens in the afternoon sun and is a sight that cannot be described with words.

The estate we are heading to is close to a place called rotikadai which means bread shop and a bit of investigation into local folklore says that the British set up a bakery in the town to teach the locals to make bread as there was no bakery around in that place.They then named it rotikadai in Tamil and it continues to remain so long after the bakery has given way to tea shops.

The estate is everything that we want from a weekend getaway.The moment we arrive tea is served.Is it our imagination or is there something to be said for tea being drunk against the backdrop of tea gardens where the fresh green tea bushes form a thick carpet for miles on end.We sip tea in lovely china cups which shows up the colour of the brew to advantage.Thin egg sandwiches complete the picture of a land in time wrap.This is a throwback on the British raj and time stands still in this place.There is even a butler service at the house.

There is a lot to explore in this rambling home with its lush lawn and its stone garden seats that are meant for garden parties.The house is surrounded by vegetable gardens,flower gardens and the traditional Christmas trees that stand like sentinels to the house.An old swing is a great place to relive a childhood pastime.Like all estate home this also has a well stocked library with enough books to keep one occupied for months.

Saturday night the start of the season brings with it the Christmas spirit.Families from around estates meet at the club and enjoy a good evening sharing notes on the weeks happenings.Everyone has a well defines role and the wives share notes on children and home while the men drink their brandies and share whatever it is that they share.

Most of the homes in this region are made of stone or wood and as there are few people to occupy these once busy homes the estate wives have taken it upon themselves to convert this into an opportunity for Eco tourism.They open their doors to people travelling through or looking for a place to stay.Home cooked meals complete the experience
We come back home with our heads filled with stories of elephants and their habits.While us city folk worry about a rat or two in our kitchens,the estate folk of the elephant range worry about the wild beasts who have developed a taste for home cooked food and are busy checking out whats cooking in the estate kitchens.
When its time for us to leave we realise that we are relaxed beyond measure and we haven't missed our morning newspaper or the cell phone or the tv and life has been blissful

news all around

Am reading an average of four newspapers a day along with magazines and a few books and with the entry of a data card into my life one more activity gets added....blogging.
The Tv has been monopolised by the husband.Back after routine tour and the "I am missing home"thingy,he picks up the remote like long lost wife and is back to watching tv.So silly wife asks silly question...."do you love me or the Tv"....after being married for as long as we have one must say that was asking for trouble.
So here we are, one engrossed in movie and one busy reading all that one can get.Its a perfect partnership.

Getting back to my newspapers,I am now an expert on why Madhuri Dixit is back in the movies,what its like to be a star at 40 in an industry that doesn't accept age among women.I aware of Sanjay Dutts homecoming,his private jet and his forthcoming movies.I know that Britney Spears is throwing a lavish Christmas party.....hey wait a minute,I am reading serious news.This is my daily diet and call me fluffy but looks like half the world or at least half of India is reading this stuff and loving it.

The outcome of all this is that I plan to see Om Shanti Om very soon(even though I wont understand a word of the movie,not knowing the language),after which its all the other Hindi movies and I shall be updated on most things that matter to India.For the rest of the time I am off to watch BBC news(news the way I knew it) and as for entertainment,hey....that's what newspapers are for.

want to break free

I want to break free.....that song was one of my favourites but its meaning struck just a few years or months ago.Brought up on a regime of being steady in a job(meaning a government job was the best one to have)keeping the faith and rising slowly but surely etc meant that job hopping was not for me.For a long time this value system helped and sustained.Then all of a sudden the industry opened up and hey there were jobs a plenty.
Somewhere there was a reckless me,dormant for years and in need to break free,so when the bug bit it was time for action.One calculated risk(in retrospect only) and there I was in anew job which by any stretch of imagination was a hard one to crack but it came with a lot of perks.Freedom to do ones own thinking (big plus),freedom to work in ones own style and a chance to meet all kinds of people and be up against all kinds of situations.The like life always is,thing settle down and routine sets in.So what does one do.You guess it,look around ....
The thing with adventure is that its a catching habit,so here I am again in yet another reckless move and having fun at it.Freedom to act,to be to wonder and to do....then what?I am getting the hang of this,next step hitchhike to some far off place...who knows what comes at the next corner

hot buttered toast and chutney

In the mad rush of peak hour traffic,I happened for a split second to look to my right and it set off a series of memories.It instantly brought to mind hot buttered toast and tomato chutney.A not so common combination but thats the memory attached to that place.
Its a set of government quarters set in a sprawling estate on haddows road.My elder sister had a friend who lived there and as I was a constant appendage to the elder sister,there I was visiting.As a child I loved these outings,for the simple reason that I always had a hungry look and most people would bring out a snack or two when I was around.I loved the tangy chutney which always showed up and in the mango season there was always juicy mangoes.
The reason for being in that house is really far more interesting.Like always one memory led to another.
Our school always had a Christmas play and my role was always that of one of the three kings or of some Chinese merchant from far away land,(thanks to having slit eyes)so a lot of rehearsals and make up had to be done and being children the teachers insisted we be there the whole day.It was my sisters responsibility to escort me to all this and as she was in a college close to the venue she had to make sure I got to the place on time and was looked after and not left alone otherwiseso.
My sister obviously had other plans and babysitting was not one of them so instead of taking me to rehearsals,she took me to college,got a group of her friends together and they plotted and planned as to what they were to do with me.One of the girls suggested they smuggle me into the literature class for a lecture.So there I was being warned of dire consequences by a bunch of college girls and given strict instructions not to make a noise and not to ask any questions(like I knew what to ask).
The class went off well,being rather small the lecturer didn't notice me in the backbench until almost to then end and the girls were ready for that.A sob story about how the poor child mother was ill and they had no choice but to get me there was all said and accepted.Of course after that everyone and her aunt wanted to give me sweets and chocolates so I wasn't complaining.When we were through with class one of the girls decided to take me home which is how the toast and chutney happened.
I continues to visit that girl as the house had loads of play areas and her mother always had interesting food.My home was always well stocked but the grass like they say is always greener on the other side.
The years spent being appendage to elder sister were always eventful and fun and long forgotten memories crop up at odd times like they did today because for me Madras is full of memories and every corner tells a story.

Tech,tech n me

Fingers fly over keyboards and messages fly off mobile phones,all around me there is talk of orkut or face book,recently I got an invite to juice.What on earth would that mean.A lot of people assume I know all this,strange,to me juice is just that and I would want to know what kind as in apple,orange etc.But for now its a social site where you meet and make friends.Surprise again.Most of my friends I have know for twenty odd years,or atleast for ten so why would I need to know a faceless friend,so much for face book I must add.I am not dying to make friends,nor am I dying to have half the world and his uncle know all about me.What happened to good old privacy.
Technology is great,I have used it to connect with people,gets things done which I couldn't have otherwise but it scares me because I cant get a grip on it.For me it takes time and I am constantly told that there is no time.Yesterday I was told by a group of friends that its just a matter of time before social networks catch up with us,very much like the mobile phone.Its useful and fine but I still resent the fact that I am traceable everywhere,I resent the fact that people think its fine to call at all hours.Of course I choose not to take calls but that's a different issue altogether.
Everyday i get a lesson on how to use technology,my husband is trying to teach me and is in the process,finding the teacher within him.He is also finding the patience to teach someone of such little techie intelligence and I hope one day soon I learn to use technology like I was to the manor born.

Rememberance day

Today was Armistice day,and to those like me who have no clue what its all about,well it the remembrance day of the end of world war 1 and its a day to remember the many brave men and women who fought for freedom and justice.
When I walked into the St Marys church today for service,I wondered if there had been a bomb blast as the place was full of uniformed men and women.The church itself wore a festive look and we had a special service which was attended by the top brass of the army,navy,air force and many other bodies along with war veterans.Everyone was turned out in full uniform with medals and things pinned on uniform.All the services has large wreaths that were place at the alter and it was a solemn moment when the armed forces walked up to the alter.The service itself was a fall back on the old days of the war and it was appropriate that it was being held in a church that is 375 years old and has history seeping out of its walls.
After the first hymn the bugles sounded the last post rendered by ceremonial guard followed by another piece.The moment can send a shiver down ones spine and I can imagine the feeling for those who actually went to war and were in the trenches.
All of us were given a poppy each as this is a symbol of remembrance day,and represents the killing fields that wars create.
When I prayed that we should have an interesting service I didn't expect this but was glad I was there in a Church created by the East India Company,a piece of history that remains in our city despite most other things being replaced by glass monstrosities

where has all the silence gone

Yesterday I stood for fifteen minutes trying to cross the road near my house.The traffic wouldn't stop and I am not surprised as it was the festival season,but this is a road in a residential area where I have lived for some thirty odd years.
My mind went back to the time we had arrived at this part of madras.My dad had paid the advance for a house here and my mom and I had come to check it out.In this very same street which was deserted at that time,with not a soul in sight.It was a road dotted on either side by quaint houses with gardens.My mother took one look at the house and burst into tears.She had hoped to move into a nice house with bright colours and a modern look but here we were in an independent house that looked in need of care with an overgrown garden.Tears of rage and frustration and many a fight with my dad later we had no choice but to move in.Over a period of time she made friends with the neighbours,brightened up our environment like only my mother can do,adopted a dog and cleaned up the garden/We lived there for years and had some happy times,I finished my school years from that house and had many happy holidays with my friends coming over,We roamed the streets around the house playing on the road and meeting people.
All this ran through my mind as i stood there on the same street trying to cross the road.The housed have given way to high rise buildings,the road has become chocked with traffic,the old neighbours have all sold out to upcoming builders and long since gone,the real estate prices have skyrocketed and the once quiet street had become impossible to cross.I finally cross the road and check out the other roads,Almost all of them have met with the same fate.I came back to live in this area because of the peace and quiet and wisely choose a street that is so narrow that it can never become a big traffic road.The only remains of my childhood are the grocery shop owned by a boy who went to school with me and I continue to shop at this place despite all the new ones that have mushroomed around.Everything else changes every day and i have to wonder what will this place be like five years from now.
This area of madras however will always be home and despite all the congestion we are lucky to have four parks around our home and plenty of greenery.I walk around and count my blessings and stop to smell the roses.

call and you will not get an answer

Right now I need to speak to the bank about an investment,I need to talk to the telephone people about a bad connection and to the mobile service provider about a wrong bill,but I am still wondering how to go about it.You see I am allergic to call centres and everyone today seems to have one.My experiences have always been about waiting for quiet a while listening to some repetitive music or to a recorded voice telling me that I am an important customer....why do they treat me like this if I really was one is beyond me.Also if I am important then so are all the others who call.I thought being important was exclusive but guess I am wrong.
If it not about waiting then some disembodied voice will give me instructions on the phone which will take through many a menu and many a number later to arrive at the same place,talking to a human being.
So I finally arrive at this human voice but couldn't figure out why they never had solutions to my simple requests.Why couldn't they check out some things for me,why did I need to call another number or wait for a week or send an email.In desperation I checked with some folks who work at a call centre and realised that its all about a script.Its a dummy job,which tells you what answers to give for what question and if its not asked in the same sequence then the human being on the other side is not authorised to answer(read not allowed to use brains,reasoning etc,assuming that they are in possession of these talents)So typically dumb American way of operating and getting paid for it.I am a little ashamed to call an American a dummy anymore after my call centre experience.Out outsourcing industry is all about the American way of life and that means we are glorified script readers.Is this what is driving our economy.I shudder to think of whats going to happen to this country in a few years.In the meanwhile I am still wondering what to do about my problems.Call a call centre stupid....thats how it works!!!