Expecting the unexpected

After a string of hectic weekends packed with "relocation" (replacement word for whats been banned for a few months!), this past week/end has been a welcome change. Even though the ugly word "unpacking" reared its head many times, for most part the days were filled with normalcy like getting back into a gym schedule, checking out a movie at the theatres, picking luscious strawberries at a nearby farm, hayrides, picnics and the ARR concert that will probably be a fitting ending to the whole package deal. True- normal is boring most times, but some times its just like slipping into an old comfort dress- soothing, relaxing, just what the mind and the body begs for!

Yes, summer in Virginia is here, here to stay for the next quarter of the year- which means its time to bring on the strawberry smoothies, the icecreams, the desh ka lassi and who can miss out on the many dips in the swimming pool? There were some odd strawberries that caught the eye and the lens this weekend at the strawberry picking picnic.

Gyaan for the weekend : When a majority is odd, then the odds are even :).

Recently I came across some of the "life's lessons" tidbits on TLC - common, everyday lessons that are depicted as figurines- one that caught my interest says "Just because you can be connected 24/7, doesnt mean you should be" . The message I got from it was about my internet addiction, though the figurine depicted a situation quite different from what I understood it to mean. Only goes to show that messages make relevant sense to the reader, not necessarily the same message the creator intended to convey. Alright, too much deep thought for a weekend, I know!

There is also a section listed to create one's own life's lesson. Which reminded me of the one lesson I learnt through practical examples, not necessarily through the moral science lessons in school. Any item or purchase made through a hard day's worth of labor, or many years of toil can never be lost or stolen. There have been many times that I have lost some of my possessions but have always come back to me intact, which even includes wallets, cash, train passes - the list is endless. Yes, if its something I have worked hard to gain, I never lose.

Hm, got to think of creative and humorous ways to say that in a figurine....what say?

Moves galore

There's something very unsettling(pun intended!) about having a home and office move in the same week. Being a Taurean, I am shaken in every sense of the word.

After a very tiring move in, I get to work to see an email and 4 large boxes planted right outside the office door with name tags and new location stickers. Granted the office move is of smaller magnitude, I dont have to do anything except "PACK" my meagre possessions, I dont have to lift ANYthing, but just another move makes me want to scream!!!

The words "pack/unpack" and "move" need to be suppressed from my dictionary temporarily for the next few months- no make that a year!

THIS is JUST what I am this week!!

Happiness is....

...polishing off bowls of kheer!

Some mid-week gyaan

The Magic Geranium

I remember this story from a long long time ago...well not quite. I only remember the title, I cannot, for the life of me, recall who the author was/is, which book I found it in, or exactly what the story was. With this vague memory, I sought refuge in our friendly neighbourhood search engine....yes Gooooooogle!


And this is what it found (Pssstt...Google never fails!):

"Story of an old lady living in a rickety old house. She receives a red geranium. Displays it on her kitchen table. The red geranium made the table look horrible, so she fixed it up and painted it. This made the chairs look shabby, so she painted them. This made the rest of the kitchen look horrible, so she proceeded to fix up her whole house. End of story is the lady and her house sparkled and flourished all because of the red geranium.

Read Aloud Funny Stories-Jane Thayer, 1958. The story is called The Magic Geranium."

Even though the story isnt complete and not a lot of detailed information is available online, this is the gist of the story as I recall. It might have been the graphics that illustrated this simple and small tale or just my mind conjuring images, this story and the mental image of it has remained in my mind all this while. Just as I've always have had mental images of the story "Gone with the wind" and most of what I saw in the movie coincided with what I'd imagined it to be and hence also my soft corner for Georgia. But I digress.

I have had an affinity to invest in potted geraniums with disastrous results before.

But the thought has always stayed with me and when I was presented with a clean, empty abode......the first thing that came to my mind upon seeing this cute kitchen window was to start the whole enterprise with a .....................drum roll................geranium plant, of course!!!!

Yes, just like Mrs Wistful in the story book. The first thing to get installed is this beautiful red geranium plant. And just like the story goes, the rest of it will just automagically be beautiful.....cos its a magic geranium plant- silly!! Get with the program! We're half-way there, having made a jump start with some magic action.

More updates forthcoming ....but for now we've all heard the wise old men say that "A good start is half the battle" havent we?

Harry Emerson Fosdick
He who chooses the beginning of a road chooses the place it leads to. It is the means that determine the end.

Moving out, in and on!

Much as try to not sound dramatic, now that most of the contents in this little abode have been compressed into a myriad cardboard boxes, the clothes dumped into suitcases, some ingredients in the pantry disposed due to sheer unuse, sorting, cleaning, packing.....I feel the entire process and the stacks of boxes define who I am, or who I have become in the past years that I have vegetated here.

What I am proud of are the boxes filled with books. I have always loved to collect books, but only those that belong in the perennials section(as in long term reading over and over and over the years)- there is this dream of having a wood panelled study room filled with books, a wallpaper of books, a sofa-bed, a fridge and small pantry of snacks. I could live in just that room, my entire life.

What I am not so proud of are the boxes of shoes!!(shoe-aholics like Orchid, please note)- I am sure at the beginning of time, I had 2 pairs of shoes. Now it has tarantulized into TWO large sized boxes. I dont know if this still qualifies to being called a fetish. Hm, wonder what happened to the likes of Imelda Marcos(more with reference to her shoe fetish than her political histrionics).

Next in line- clothes! My mom used to tell us that Kali Yuga's curse was clothes and the way girls/women spend on them. Initially I used to label her as senile and dismiss the charges. Now I am appalled at the number of suitcases that are piled with clothes, clothes and more clothes. To top the agony, I hate folding clothes(thats what moms are for, imo). Hence most times, clothes are piled in a disastrous fashion inside closets and chests to give an impression to guests that my house is very clean and well kept. I could've sworn I landed in this country with ONLY two suitcases that filled all the three things that I have in excess now, and still not have to pay for excess baggage. So that should've been 2 pairs of shoes, about 2-3 books to keep me company on the maiden voyage abroad and enough clothes to survive one work week and a weekend. The suitcases also included the usual FOB must-have accessories such as one pressure cooker, a couple of vessels, amma-made aroma-filled sambar/rasam powders- yes enough to be able to make rice/daal and yogurt-rice- or so one argues while packing.

That brings me to the boxes that have resulted from the "stuff" in the kitchen. Good Lord- these new recipe ventures makes one invest in things(quoted in no particular order) such as a big jar of molasses, packets of bajra flour, cornflour, cornmeal, corn starch, 16 bean mix, brown rice, cracked wheat, bulgur, condensed milk, evaporated milk....need I go on some more? You get the picture- most ingredients I have used exactly ONCE in a BLUE MOON. And then multiple unopened packets of amma-made aroma-filled sambar-rasam powders since I have discontinued the rasam/sambar series for quite a few years now. But I dont refrain from picking up more every time I go home. Its a nostalgia thing, I have concluded.

The last major item are boxes filled with decorative pieces, showpieces- these are predominantly gifts that I have received over many years that I can never discard.....I have accumulated plenty of those as well(yes one can safely conclude that I have very thoughtful friends and family who dont fail to give birthday gifts ;). Just the stuff from the utility room generated enough boxes to scar(e) me for eternity.

Yes, my packing now defines the person I have become. Some times as I sit looking at the boxes I almost pity the movers cos them books boxes are heavy!! Which is why I gave away quite a few books, to make it easy on them :(. Still....there are so many I never want to part with.

A pack rat, I dont believe I am or have become- but nonetheless from 2 suitcases to this boxes galore situation is cause for contemplation - what happens in 10 yrs or 20 yrs? Would I need a cargo ship?

So muses the mint....

Footnote : Watched Last King of Scotland. Amazing performace by Forest Whitaker as Idi Amin, very strong storyline and superb acting by the entire cast.

Hm maybe I should use some of the syrup and have waffles for breakfast today!!

Taking a spring hike

....in the Shenandoah valley.

First for this season, first for the year. Picked two trails- one that led down to some watershed and the other up to a vista point. And by the end of this ambitious hiking trip, exhaustion wasnt even the right word to use. Its been hot and humid already and spring is not officially even over yet. The green foliage at Shenandoah Valley is breathtaking, if only there had been some rains previously- the waterfall would've been even more spectacular.
Using the embedded slideshow feature from picasaweb(thanks NN!) to showcase some pictures.

This long weekend appears to be a welcome change for many people, considering it is the first for this year. Just chilling at home with a cool drink sounds inviting and making elaborate plans to head to the beach appears tiring. Some lunch and dinner invites, a hike or two, some chores, reading, spring cleaning.....not bad at all!

Favorite drinks for upcoming summer days : Watermelon juice and strawberry smoothie.

Baking project for the weekend : Eggless maple pecan cake . Yumm-o

At the box-office :
Shrek 3 - Very passable fare, nothing new to report about Shrek the 3rd. The lines and story werent as unusual or catchy as the first. Shrek 2 itself went downhill, now Shrek 3 just collapsed without much to rave about.
The Queen on DVD : Worth a watch. Helen Mirren's acting definitely warrants a mention.

Another masterpiece from KH

The Kite Runner did this to me. I had to finish it in ONE read. And it was the same with A thousand splendid suns. I had to finish it, find out what happened to Mariam and Laila, experience their agonies, ecstasies, their trials and tribulations, laugh with them, cry for them...yes yet another masterpiece from the Afghan master storyteller.




Its a moving story about Mariam as she journeys through her life and the unjust hand of cards that life deals to her. Surprisingly for a story set in Afghanistan during the troubled times right from Soviet occupation to the tryanny of Taliban rule, the central characters in the book are women, women with strength and determination. While The Kite Runner was moving and impactful in a different sense, one sees the same great style of writing with A thousand splendid suns as well. I was apprehensive about how impressive KH's next book would turn out to be, most authors these days just emerge to be one-book-wonders. But no, KH doesnt fail his readers....

And NOW I can get moving on my chores for the day!

So next in the reading cart...William Dalrymple's City of Djinns(NN: Watch out, a sore kick will be delivered your way if this doesnt promise to be as good as you SAID it would be!).

All for "not want" of a nail

“For three days after death, hair and fingernails continue to grow but phone calls taper off.”
-Johnny Carson

I am proof personified for the latter claim about fingernails. To begin with, I generally never have let my finger or toe nails grow for too long before my mild OCD takes over and drives me up the wall if left unattended. I cut them so close that there is no room for the nails to breathe, if they ever have to do so. And it bothers me while using the keyboard. So I have a nail clipper handy NOT ONLY in my toilet kit, but also in my dresser, the living room candy jar and study table pen stand! I was even contemplating leaving one at work, JUST IN CASE.
Yes, weird- tell me about it.

Every time I attempt to go for a manicure(I have tested this in multiple cities and multiple nail salons within my own with the same discouraging result) its only a matter of minutes before the lady looks at my hands and guffaws loudly , continues to giggle like a school kid and finally asks "You want to have a manicure with THESE nails?????". Alright, I got the point lady!! And then with her most earnest face she tells me that I should grow them some more and THEN come back for a manicure. I sit and huff and puff at the massage chair and try to come up with nasty ways to give her a hard time while she pedicures. Touchy subject, you know!

Pedicures are fine, I let my toe nails grow to a cm more than finger nails. But within 3 or 4 weeks of a pedicure, I am chopping the toe nails and ruining all the effort that goes into it.

Therein I come to the latest issue of mine. My fingernails seem to be growing too soon. I find myself chopping them every couple of weeks as opposed to once a month that it used to be. No, people, I haven't taken to drinking milk everyday or calcium overdoses. Nothing is different, yet I notice this change. I find it aggravating to have to cut them so frequently and on the other hand find it unbearable to let them grow. And my next concern is what if they start growing on a weekly basis, and then daily?????? Yet, I will not give in and let them grow in peace.

Its me or them nails. Bring it on!

6th Target

The latest James Patterson novel featuring the Women's murder club leaves the reader with a sense of utter disappointment. There was no strong projection of the plot and the central story was a chain of three different murder cases- each disjoint from the other. None of the Women's murder club" girls were given a decent chance to project their strong individual personalities. Well finish it I did, like I always do of all his books. Surprisingly thrillers make me do that even though sometimes the ending is quite evident.

To sum up, this was nothing close to any of the Alex Cross series (the Alex Cross series was getting repetitive and predictable, btw).

So moving on to James Patterson's books....there is a story behind my initiation into reading his books. When I first moved to Virginia, on a transfer from down south, the only person I knew at work was my director C. He lived in Philly and would drive to DC every Monday and drive back on Thursdays. He lived in a studio apt for the week and would stock up on books and music to tide him through the week. So when I moved and had settled down, he stopped by one day to ask how I was doing. And the first thing I told him was that I was settled otherwise except that I was looking for the closest library to get a membership from. So that same day, at lunch time, he drove me to the county library where I gleefully got my membership.

When the paperwork was done and I proudly held on to my card, he had checked out about 4-5 books...............all James Patterson's!!!

Well, with my curiosity aroused, I had to ask about the author and his books. C, as is evident, was a big fan of his. So he made me borrow my first James Patterson novel(my memory fails me as to which one it was! but it was surely an Alex Cross one). And so I got hooked. The best part of the story is that psychopaths and serial killer mysteries so had me engrossed that I finished all of his books within 2 months!!!!

I was even more encouraged because it was a sure topic for hallway conversation with C where we'd exchange books or even review them. At one point he was lagging so far behind , I remember he sat overnight to finish a couple of them JUST so he was caught up with me. I am quite sure if it weren't for that kind of reading company and constant goading, I'd never have gone this far. It wasn't that I was into psychopaths and serial killer mysteries that much, but it was definitely suspense-worthy for an attention-deficit person like me to hang on till the end.

And thus ends the tale. Now I have moved onto to better and more challenging employment opportunities and have lost track of C, but recall him, I do, every time I read a James Patterson novel.

So C, if you are out there AND miraculously happen to read this post AND haven't read 6th Target YET, then firstly don't! and secondly nya nya nya me first, AGAIN! ;)

Next in the reading cart (rubbing hands) : Khalid Hosseini's "A thousand splendid suns".

The druid's latest

"When it rains, it pours" is surely a time-tested idiom.

There was a time when I had nothing to read. Well, let me rephrase, nothing interested me enough to warrant an investment of reading time. And then May seemed to come around with a flurry of new book releases, perhaps in time for Mother's day gifts.

So just got done with PC's Witch of Portobello. The story telling technique was different- the character of Athena was presented as seen by multiple first person accounts of people who interact with her and define how they perceive her. For most part, these accounts were too detailed and sometimes disparate/disconnected that it would be easy to lose focus on the central character, Athena. Secondly the ending fell apart and couldnt hold the story together. Of course, there were too many religious references but that appears to have become PC's trademark these days. I'd give it a 3.5 star rating, but thats just my take.

Currently in the reading cart is James Patterson's 6th Target.

Following that is either City of Djinns(per NN's suggestion) or Khalid Hosseini's A thousand spendid suns.

Woot! Memorial Day weekend charts seem to foresee a lot of couch time with books. Maybe I should be stocking up on them munchies.

Snippet of a conversation with the crabby kind!

Ring, Ring

Me : Hello

Voice : Hey

Me : Whats up? Are you gonna help me with this furniture.

Voice : Yes yes I am on my way back from my meeting, so I'll call you as soon as I get there.

Me : Erm, there as in am I meeting you at your place or are you coming over to mine?

Voice : I'll stop by your place. I'll call you as soon as I get home.

Me : Erm, I thought you said you were coming to my place....

Voice : Yes, thats right. I'll call as soon as I get home....

Me : Argh, if YOU are coming to MY place, why would you call me as soon as you get home?(slightly raising voice due to exasperation).

Voice : Oh, I was planning to stop by my place, change and then head over. Hence I said I'll call when I get home. Btw, whats with the irritability?

Me : Argggggggggggggh. How the HELL am I supposed to know you planned to go to YOUR place and change before coming?

Voice : Why would I have to explain that to you? When I say I'll stop by your place, does it matter what I do before getting there? Geez, this anger and irritability of yours is becoming unmanageable! Really!



So is it just me or was there not a slight inexplicable disconnect?

Cancerians Bah!

Footnote : Cancerians out there, pliss to not throw rotten tomatoes and eggs at the mint, the mint loves all sun and moon signs without any pride or prejudice.

Spidey 3 - its a thumbs...

... down Bollywood flick.

We've seen Mission Impossible going the spiced up chaat way, now its Spidey.

Spidey 1 was probably the most entertaining with the right dosage of Superhuman'ness and thrill. Spidey 2, ah well, not too bad- tolerable. Oh my God, Spidey 3 is a total masala chaat concoction replete with a love triangle, music, drama, hatred, revenge, perfect and happy ending- so on and so forth. There is also a scene with Peter Parker and MJ in a spider hammock watching shooting stars. Erm, seems familiar, doesnt it? Yes imagine 2 and 1/2 hours of this drivel and makes you wonder if infiltration of Bollywood masala into Hollywood movies is such a great thing.

All in all, the movie was too long for its own good, the ending was ho-hum and in totality felt like a colossal waste of good time and money.

Disgruntlemint

"You need to control your anger, Altoid!"

"This is unreasonable, the way you lose your temper at random and as often as you do. There's no way to predict what COULD make you angry. One day it could be the neighbor's dog barking too loud, the other day it could be the rains!"

"Geeez, Altoid- you cant get angry over such silly things...."

And so on and so forth. Yes, enough for one to conclude that perhaps Altoid might need some anger management classes.

While I will admit that I do lose my temper, in my mind, you see, its all justified. There is a reason for my outburst- every time, all the time :D. Be that as it may, I think what happens is that I show my anger at people or things unrelated to the actualy cause or source of anger. This morning and the entire day's events have put me in a cranky mood for the rest of the day, a perfect example for the case above. This in turn cascades on to bursts of rage which I distribute quite randomly to people around me. Yes, Taureans are known to be generous.

What happened was this. For 3 days now, rather nights, I have been asked by a store owner to call him after 10pm to remind him to set aside empty packing boxes for my upcoming move. So every night I call Sam and remind him and he in turn tells me to stop by at 8am the next morning to pick them up. 8am finds me scouring the store in search of Sam who gets paged and still doesnt show up. After about 45 mins of frantic searching, I find Sam who tells me he forgot to set aside boxes. "Can you call me tonight and remind me so you can pick up some tomorrow?" he asks politely. Since I'm the one asking for a favour, I suck it up and oblige.

This ritual has gone on for 3 days. So today at 9am, when I should have been at work, I am getting Sam paged for the 10 time. Wonder of wonder, he shows up with a cart full of empty boxes. *delighted look on my face*. As I wheel the cart out of the store, I am stopped at the main door by the Manager. "I am sorry Ma'am, you are not allowed to take these boxes out....". "But Sam gave them to me" I say. "Yes, I will talk to Sam, but you cannot take these out!" and he grabs the cart away. Long story short, after another 30 mins Sam comes up sheepishly to tell me to come around on Saturday and continue with the drama all over again.

After a polite smile(I still DO need them d**** boxes), I walk out and drive to work.

I log in see a work pile as tall as I am. To top it, I have missed a meeting and some frikking updates need to be installed in the laptop which in turn requests a reboot. It took 10 mins to boot in the first place!! Some paperwork that should have been done 3 weeks ago is just getting stalled for no apparent reason. Daily followup just isnt cutting it. Can I do anything about it?-Nada. I have to wait for the stars to line up and the person in charge to sign. Some days I just tempted to land at this person's office and strangle him with the telephone cord. (One anger management test asks innocently if I feel homicidal when I am angry...what do YOU think?).

Arghhhhhhhhhh!

So anyway, these tips that one finds to get out of bad moods suggest that one think about something funny or some pleasant vacation or something that takes one's mind off the current frustrations.
My question is usually when one is in a bad mood, one flares because there are too many things going on that need to be dealt with and hence adds to the stress right? How is one supposed to take an hour off to dream of such pleasant thoughts?

Yes yes, yoga, meditation etc etc.... I get it. You cant change the world, the only person you can change is yourself. Very true. I am sure I am quite unbearable when I am angry- heck sometimes I cant put up with my own self. I can see how irrational my outbursts are....

Huh? How did I get rid of my bad mood, you ask?

I just yelled at a handful of people, sulked, shed a few tears and I think the anger has abated now. I've heard "bull in a china shop" is an apt phrase for angry Taureans.

Mixed bag

This week in Movies :

Nishabd : Watched this AB starrer about a father falling in love with his daughter's friend who is visiting his estate. The 18 yr old girl, played by newcomer Jiah Khan. Much has been talked about the bold topic, the distasteful idea etc etc. But for most part, the story, in my opinion is just plain unconvincing. The way Jiah flirts with her friend's dad comes out as a little girl trying to wear big shoes. For such an older man to fall for such immaturity and consequently to confess to the wife thus causing a permanent rift in such a long standing marriage, again comes across as stupidity on his part as well. So all in all, along with the terrible aftertaste of the concept in general, the movie falls apart by failing to come to a powerful ending("closure" as Rachel from Friends would like to say).

This week amidst Books :

Hallelujah! The druid has a new book "The Witch of Portobello".
Note to self : If I ever get to publish books, they would be released on Fridays, so ardent fans and readers would have a peaceful weekend to finish reading them instead of trying to snatch every few minutes possible during the week. Review of this wonderful book forthcoming....

This week in miscellanous thoughts :

Washington Post regularly publishes an updated list of US casualties in Iraq, current count is at 3398, about 339 in Afghanistan and these are military personnel. The civilian count for WTC was at 2973.
So is this what is called as revenge?

Them undocumented games from yore

Recently while talking about "Lagori" and "Kho" and such other undocumented games that were played in school, I recalled another of those weird ones- it involved a decently long piece of elastic thread wound around the legs of two girls. And a third or fourth or the rest of the girls would jump across the elastic forming different patterns. I mentioned this to a few other friends and no one seems to remember having played this game.

I have not kept in touch with my schoolmates to have them vouch for this, so now it appears that I might just have made it all up!! For the life of me, I cant recall a name for this game, as always it was transitional. We probably played for a couple of months and then moved onto something else, something different, something just as whacky!

So if anyone recalls having played/seen this game specially around "The Home School" area in Basavanagudi, pliss to drop me an email!

So, moving on, hop-scotch of course was another all-time favorite. I hated Lagori, but would play just to not be left out. I might have played kabaddi a handful of times, again, not one of my favorites. And to think, in 1990, it was established as an official game at the Asian Games. Whad'ya know!

For rainy days, cool summer holidays, indoor board games were welcome to stay away from weather constraints as well as to keep us occupied with the Indian version of Mancala, Carrom, Scrabble and does anyone remember Ludo?

Anyone else have any other of these undocumented games?

Game time and TGIF!

Ma day in May

I probably lived for 25+ yrs under the same roof as "Amma" and never once wished her for Mother's Day or realised there would/could be a day dedicated solely for her. When I did hear about it, I was tens of thousands of miles away, but it definitely made me realise what a wonderful idea it was. No wonder greeting cards and gifts sell like hot cakes on this day.
To dedicate one day of the year solely to that one person in every person's life, it is my next favorite day after Teacher's day in India. What a wonderful gesture that was by our ex-President Dr. Radhakrishnan.

So here it is, this post is for my mother(Amma). All personal details aside, she has been the source of encouragement and support every step of the way. And I am very sure, when she sees this post, she is sure to ask why I have a picture of a flower.

Well Ma, thats because I didnt find a suitable picture of you to post, when I do, I will update the blog. For now, this could be considered a dedication to your green thumb!

MY MOMMY AND ME

© Craig A.Shames

My Mommy and Me

Once upon a time there was a woman named Shirley
Born and raised in Brooklyn this is who gave birth to me

That would make her my mommy and for that I'm thankful
She's a strong, compassionate, caring person and that's no bull

I couldn't ask for a better mommy and I'm not just saying that
She's never done anything wrong, even if she did replace our cat

She's always been there for me no matter the situation
Her daily calls and 'nagging' is what got me through to graduation

She only wants what's best for me, which is why she let me quit the Army
From shopping at the Gap to send caring packages she's always thinking of me

She might not like everything about me, especially my hair
But she'll always be there to pay my train fare

And I know I can always count on her when I have conflict or strife
She's been my rock, the pillar of strength in my life

I can't imagine what my life would be like without her
I'm just so glad that we're always going to be together

That's because my mommy and me get along so great
Even if I am complaining about what I just ate

Now, we haven't gotten to see each that much over the last few years
But I'll be moving back home soon so there's no need to shed any tears

From going to the beach to having a BBQ there will be lots to do
We should get along great just so long as I don't have to pick up any dodo

I'll always remember the years she spent at Yellow Book
Since she married Mark she no longer has to cook

Working two jobs for all those years to support me must have been hard
I appreciate all she's done, that's why I wrote this poem instead of sending a card

I like the things that I have and the situation I'm in
I couldn't have asked for a better kin

My mommy and me make a great team
Now stop crying and go make me some ice cream

Ta-da! Its a new Hobbit-at

Well, it wasnt with the same enthusiasm that I received the bad news that Blogger templates were messed up on this Saturday morning. My favorite image in my previous template- the lonely girl- was lost and appeared lost forever. And hence started a scramble to rebuild into the new blogger(some thing which I have been trying to avoid for a while now, yes you guessed it- we mints dont take to change easily).

I had to set aside the rest of the chores for the day to build a new habitat for my blog. And here we are. Most of the old scripts have been moved over and NOW I can go back to my chores in peace.

The reading cart has Sara Gruen's Water for Elephants(an impulse buy for a change, no reviews have been checked out), the dvd rack has "Dreamgirls". Some painting plans have been made.

Yes, sounds like an interesting weekend, except for this small hiccup.

Its all good now, or so it seems.

Pi(e)ning

I picked up some apples
At the farmer's market this week
Red, juicy and deelish,
A pie is what the tastebuds seek

Swoosh went in the sugar and flour
A mix and a whip and all it needs
Is chopped apples and some spice
And out go the cores and the seeds

Moving on to the crust
Again the flour comes in handy
Whip in the butter and shortening
And the crust is all fine and dandy

Roll the crust and pour the filling
Top it with a lid and bake till done
Grab a fork , dig into heaven
Yumm! This was SO much fun!

Travelogue-Spring 2007

get·a·way (gt-w)
n.
1. The act or an instance of escaping: made a quick getaway.
2. A place appropriate for a vacation.

getaway(in altoid's dictionary) =
one part cool blue waves of the ocean +
one part sea gulls +
one part pristine clear sands +
one part clear sunny skies +
one part good book +
one part comfy lounge chair/beach towel/beach umbrella +
one part cool refreshing drink(optional)


To get some zing in the taste and feel, indulge in a soothing massage.
For that adrenalish rush, add a dash of hang gliding lessons.

And for that out-of-the-world experience, get an aerial tour of the islands along the coast.

Sigh, Mondays have a tendency to show up at the wrong time, all the time!!!

Fixated over lighthouses

After benches, its lighthouses that I find visually appealing. There is a strange tingle of excitement when I see lighthouses and they remind me of Famous Five mysteries. I havent been able to decipher the connection, all that the mind conjures up are wild stories about pirates and shipwrecks. Yes, call me an incurable romantic or hopeless sentimentalist, but there are some associations for me that transport me to another time. Maybe its the books that I used to read and the fact that I have been a voracious reader.

Regardless, if any trip includes a lighthouse sighting, I am up for it. I will even drive miles so as to be able to catch a glimpse. Lighthouses in recent times and since the time electricity has been invented have become more sophisticated. But imagine the time when fire was used to send warning signals. All said and done, I am sure lighthouses have saved many a shipwreck. So here's presenting a small collection of lighthouse sightings....which I hope grows to many more.

Out and away-TGIF!

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

-Alexander Pope,
An Essay on Man, Epistle I, 1733

A curiously strong gift

...........for a curiously strong mint!












Footnote :
It takes a long time to grow an old friend. ~John Leonard

Movie recall

For some years now I have maintained an offline list of the movies that would eventually go into a "collection" of sorts. See, with books, I have a variety. There are those "perennials"(I guess this word's stuck in my mind from the previous post) which are books that will stay with me all my life, those great books that I could and would read and re-read any time. Then there are the "flight" books that I buy on impulse for want of "some" book to read on a flight. And then there are the books I buy on my shoppers pass at a book store chain regularly, read and review if they need to go in the "collection" pile. If not these and the "flight" books eventually get donated to the library.

Now with movies, I never buy DVD's unless its a "collection" movie which would then exist in the "must-have" list. So I've been maintaining this list and just last week I decided to invest in growing the "collection". Now the other problem is I never watch any movies on DVD, especially the "collection" ones. They just sit cutely behind the glass doors of the entertainment set, get dusted regularly and never fail to produce oohs and aahs from visitors who gleam with the "we are impressed" look in their eyes.

I will stop the rambling here and get on with the actual story. So I managed to glue myself to the chair and watch two oldies "Kora Kagaz" and "Piya ka Ghar". For those that jumped in the seats and proclaimed "She is a Jaya Bhaduri fan" victoriously, you'd be partly right. I also have Guddi and Abhimaan and enjoy and her movies immensely. The other commonality in the two movies is the simplistic sets and the "girl-next-door" vibe that they emanate. The costumes of the characters are very believable, the dialogues and storyline chant the "this could happen to anybody, anywhere" mantra all throughout. And an additional point to note is that the characters in both are never painted stark black and white. At an age(70s) when mils were always as depicted by the Bindus and Lalitha Pawars, villains wore garish costumes and sounded menacing like Prem Chhopra and Pran, these movies managed to hold their forte, convey powerful social messages and still was never typecast as artsy. Kudos for all that and more.

Now to the specifics. "Kora Kagaz" is about an educated and literate Archana Gupta, a professor's daughter who happens to choose another professor as her soulmate and gets married to him much against her mother's wishes. Her mother continues to drive a wedge between the couple in a myriad ways predominantly by establishing monetary supremacy. This continues to make dents to the professor's ego and after many such instances, he decides to walk out of the relationship. One of the very good scenes in the movie is when her dad explains to her why her marriage fell apart and why she should not have let her mother ru(i)n her life. Her mother and brother pursue to get her divorced and remarried. She grants the divorce but continues to study and obtain a lecturer position in another town and leave. I will refrain from rattling the ending, but all in all I felt the movie had a very powerful storyline. Granted the setting is quite outdated for today's scenario, but for that time and age, I am sure it conveyed a relevant and powerful message. Also at the end of it, it is still very hard to conclude whose fault it was, all it conveys is its unfortunate and one needs to find strength to let bygones be bygones. Most memorable song is of course "Mera Jeevan kora kaagaz, kora hi reh gaya".

Now coming to "Piya ka Ghar", the movie features the wonderful song "yeh jeevan hai, is jeevan ka, yahi hai yahi hai yahi hai rang roop". This movie of Basu Chaterji is all about Malthi, brought up with great love and affection by her doting parents and uncle and gets married into a family settled in Bombay. After moving to "Amchi Mumbai" she is shocked to face the bitter truth of having to live in a one-bedroom chawl with her inlaws, her older bil and his wife and a younger bil. Their bed is set up in the kitchen where the whole family congregates at odd hours in the am to gather water whenever the water supply dept deigns to release. Again the simple love and camarederie amongst the family members despite the hurdles and chaos is touching and superbly portrayed. Another masterpiece by Basu Chaterji, something one can never tire of.

Footnote : Love Jaya Bhaduri's simple style. Again, forever the "girl-next-door" feel.

Rule of thumb

For a long time, my only association with plants was while hauling potted ones on my two-wheeler along with my mother precariously perched in the rear and having assorted leaves and flowers swaying in the cool Lalbagh breeze while this entourage made the life-threatening ride home. This symbiosis worked well though, my mother with her luscious green thumb would lovingly plant and nurture them until they bloomed and budded to her joy and to my grim satisfaction. A little trick was that I would always pick the plants that were near bloom since I never had the patience to wait till next year or a decade for blooms to appear.

When I moved out I made a startling discovery. On an impulse and extreme ambition(maybe I was drunk!) I decided to launch my own indoor plant collection with a pot of the jasmine creeper and curry leaves. You guessed it, I picked it up on my first trip to the local temple. It was probably nostalgia or homesickness, I wanted to recreate some part of the homeliness of a foliage. And the discovery I made was twofold. That I had a black thumb and secondly just cooing sweet words and watering on a regular basis werent enough for delicate and sensitive plants like the ones I had lovingly paid a fortune upon. The plants died sooner than expected at the shock treatment of my black thumb and not because of the ice and snow of the east coast winter.

As is customary, all of us are fed from a very young age, on a regular dose of the proverb "If at first you dont succeed, try, try again!". So I forged on- I experimented with geraniums, mums(which we used to call chrysanthemums), potted lilies and daisies all seemed to end in doom and no bloom in sight. (Did anyone catch the pattern there? It was all about colorful blooms, none of the green indoor plant variety for me!). Believe it or not, in a frenzy, once I harboured hopeful thoughts of investing a fortune in a potted orchid. Yes, you said it. It never struck me to not set my sights on creating a botanical garden but to start humbly with one indoor plant that would just inhale/exhale and grow.

Much to my chagrin, when I visited a close friend of mine, I found out she had a much greener thumb than my mother's and had already successfully planted seven rose shrubs with outstanding results. Yes, her backyard was a mini rose garden enveloped in color. On a road trip that visit, we both invested in bamboo shoots. I brought it back home and fed it with water, which was all the Asian store owner that sold the shoot told us needed to be done. What do you think happened? Well 3 months later the trash bin found a very dried and shrivelled bamboo shoot in it and the cute container that came with it was reused to hold pens!

The next trip , a year later, to the same friend's place found me staring into a 3-foot high bamboo shoot in a gigantic pot at the doorstep. Yes, the same sister bamboo plant!

"Thats it" I said to myself. The same friend had a kitchen counter top filled with a money plant seeping and creeping all over. She generously offered to donate the original pot since she had grafted enough. I checked in the pot and brought it home victoriously. I concluded I'd solved the problem.

I fed it with regular doses of water and MiracleGro(the guy at the Walmart gardening section sold it to me with great gusto promising outstanding results). Till today, I am never sure if my thumb dyed green, or if it was because I brought my friend's plant or good fortune, but this plant survived. And survived long enough to tell this tale. The creeper now extends from my living room to the kitchen for me to flaunt. In addition I bought a couple of indoor perennials and have never again attempted flowering plants. I even have a cactus at work which seems to be doing fine, but then I do realise cactii are survivors- they'd grow with a green or black thumb, color or no color.

There is one lesson learnt from this experience- Think big, start small. But there is nothing to beat the serenity and calm that greenery exhudes. Be it the majestic trees or the juicy green shrubs or the flowering seasonals or the freshly mowed lawns, they manage to delight and excite each of the senses in a myriad different ways.
Hence this would be my humble submission to go green for Earth Day(April 22nd)!

Thoda hai, thode ki.....

............zaroorat hai.
Zindagi phir bhi yahan khoobsurat hai!

The mint and her photography skills are in need of these wonderful macro lenses to be able to peer into the eyes of flowers and capture the pollen(and thereafter to wheeze merrily away, as well).

So now, you dear reader, understand what the mint wants. Btw, did anyone look at the price tag? *Shocked* No one did? Well then you dont get to read any further. Go back, click on the link, DIGEST the price and get right back .................











...........here.

So while the mint was lamenting to her good friend about the misfortune(yes misfortune because the mint doesnt have a fortune to spend on the said lens), her dear friend(God bless her soul, and long live old friends!) quietly quips "The site www.helpamintbuyafilter.com is available, you know!"

And that got the mint thinking- well if a girl could set up a website to get her credit card bills paid off, why not this? *Hugs to dear friend*. So all the mint needs to do is set up a website and let the money trickle in. Yes, dear contributor, pennies, cents, nickels, dimes, annas, kareninas(oops, there's no such monetary term!)- well you get the drift. No denomination is too small. Birthdays are good reasons to make wishes(hint, hint ;).

As an aside, you know its said women are like fine wine, they only get better with age. Imagine the wisdom of an aged woman who has had an aged wine! (No no, I am not alluding to my dear friend here, pliss to not get offended!).

Everything else aside, on a serious note, this post really is meant for all those innocent lives lost in the VA tech shooting this week. May the souls RIP and wishing peace and strength to the families to deal with the losses. There is a lot of outrage and outcry and outpouring - about gun control, about the injustice and shock over so many lives that were lost for no cause.

I will say less and pray more, pray for those souls, pray for peace on earth. Join me if you wish!


Peace!

Wear comfort?

All of us in many different ways indulge in "comfort food"- which the dictionary says is any food that provides psychological comfort, respite and/or security. Its also referred to as soul food- it could vary from cuisine to cuisine, person to person, culture to culture and age to age. But it exists regardless of any prejudices.

And we also know of "comfort objects" like Linus' security blanket, objects that provide psychological comfort. Its said that this too varies from anything like stuffed toys to precious paintings.

Well I have now concluded there is this concept called "comfort wear". What the hell am I thinking? I refer to that one piece or set of clothing I have to wear every once in a while and potter around my home. The one clothing whose feel against my skin gives me emotional comfort and calm. In my case, its a salwar from many years ago(I am not even sure when or how I acquired it). The material isnt the best, long since out of fashion, but comfortable it is. The print is simple ,cute and pretty(or so I think) and the color scheme is soothing to the eye. And so once in a while, over a lazy weekend, I slip into this wonderful apparel and drift into private heaven. I go about doing my chores-cleaning, laundry, ironing, putting clothes away and all and sundry and while I am at it, this comfort wear infuses peace and calm and serenity in abundance to last till the next time I need to be recharged. And by then its gone through a round of laundry and ironing so its all ready for another refill session.

Its so old, some times the stitches come apart and I have to employ the only needle and thread kit that I possess(for the only reason that it ever gets used) to patch the miracle garment. But dispose it, I never will. What is a few stitches coming undone compared to the priceless service it provides? And so I include a glimpse into this special piece of comfort wear so that if ever there is a question on what to bury/cremate me in, the world would already have the answer..........


So ...........what is YOUR comfort wear?

Lighthouse reproduced

Photo(left) and Painting(right)

The day the mind took a hike!

Its that time of the year in the east coast of April showers, wet spells, windy days and of course cherry blossoms and daffodils galore. The much touted Cherry Blossom festival and parade brings throngs of visitors to the National Mall area both local and out-of-towners eager to soak in the higher temperatures compared to the snow and ice storms of March. The Northern VA area's proximity to the Capital city is indeed a major plus point. "Virginia is for lovers" is the state caption and whats not to love with the Capital city bordering on one side and the lovely Shenandoah valley on the other which delivers the seasons and nature's many wonders without fail every year, year after year.


















With allergies and pollen infested air it is also time for Spring break and Easter. As warm weather is engaged in a major battle to emerge from hibernation, it is not unnatural for one to yearn to break free from the monotony and weather swings. And so I did break free this weekend. I picked a nice juicy Friday when I saw that the weekend and following week were going to be wet and cold. After a filling brunch, I packed my camera, a book, some music and off I went.

















A perfectly sunny day is a boon for the month of April and the afternoon was just right. Not too hot or humid to perspire, yet not cold and chilly to force one to stay indoors. And the cherry blossoms and daffodils and tulips were having a field day basking in the sunlight. As I entered the botanical gardens I could sense all my allergies and stresses getting sucked out of me. Thats when I unlocked the mind and set it free. Its strange the things the mind can do when its let loose.

Many times I wasnt sure if I should capture the moment and the beauty in my mind and commit to memory or use my camera and capture for posterity.

This is the place to go to view the entire album.
Yes, there are many many many pictures cos the shutterbug in me went into overdrive. A lot of time and keen interest are key ingredients to browse this album. And if anyone is curious to know which lunatic would be taking this many pictures of empty benches- pliss to take some time and catch up on this post for justification.

Mind games

Out of sight, out of mind

Meaning
The idea that something is easily forgotten or dismissed as unimportant if it is not in our direct view.

Yes, a very common phrase and a very common phenomenon, me thinks. But recently an event occurred that showed me just how badly entrenched I have become in this process.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A dear friend of mine that lives many miles away in Singapore. A dear friend who always has the time to lend a sympathetic ear to my woes and rants. A dear friend who makes time despite her busy schedule, a day job and a baby. Ok ok, I will get on with this tale.

I heard the shrill jangling of the phone at midnight just as I'd sunk into blissful slumber. I scramble about ready to pounce on the said caller and give the person a piece of my angry mind. As soon as my angry mind recognizes the voice on the other end, the anger drains and a wintry mix of embarassment, guilt and shame sets in. Its dear friend, having finished her chores she absent mindedly decided to call and find out how I was doing and totally forgot about this very important factor called time difference.

When she hears my groggy voice, she apologizes and persists in telling me to go right back to bed. But my guilt has woken my senses and I am all set to have a long chat. And the reason for this guilt was because I realised I had "literally" forgotten about her for god-knows-how-long (probably after her last call, which again happened "god-knows-when"). Yes, I had managed to totally wipe out all thoughts and memories- I had sent no emails asking about her well-being, no calls to find out how her baby was doing. Worse yet, I'd forgotten to send wishes to the beautiful baby that had turned one. And so I had a long chat and caught up on all the news. As she talked and I listened I realised how important it is to have familiar voices and faces around us to feel safe and wanted(for lack of a better word). A voice from faraway land definitely makes one feel at home in one's mind despite the distance that separates the bodies.

Hence I vow to do a better job next time. A belated baby gift hamper is on its way and certainly, "out of sight, out of mind" is all in the mind.

The sense of scents

Make-up has never featured big in my daily routine. For many years I deluded myself into believing there could be nothing out there that could transform me into a beauty queen and if that was the absolute truth, there was just no need to venture into that territory. And thus I shielded myself from the foundations and concealers and what not(I got to know these terms during recent trips to the mall!). And lip treatment to me just always reminded me of the notorious phrase "putting lipstick on a pig". Now that says a lot about my non-existent make-up routine. But not to worry, I always use a basic cleanser and moisturizer and a decent enough smile to look presentable(for those that are conjuring up unreasonable projections of how I might look!).

But no this post wasnt to dwell on my daily facial routine. Its about the next best thing to looking good, which is smelling good. Yes I am a big proponent of minty fresh breath and sweet body odour. I honestly believe it makes a statement. Hence I always have a good collection of fragrances and lotions to keep the "smelling good in the neighbourhood" phrase alive. While I tend to try a variety of perfumes, I shun some strong ones like jasmine or most fruit based scents like cherry and raspberry(reminds me of jams and jellies) except citrus based ones.

My favorite natural smells would be :

1. Lavendar : I love lavendar for sleep aromatherapy, pleasant, soothing and relaxing. Perfect to snooze in.

2. Musk : I love all variations of musk.

3. Sandalwood : Probably cos I am from Karnataka, sandalwood always reminds me of home and peace, carefree life and serenity.

4. Vanilla : Fresh ground vanilla has a wonderful aroma. One bean that is equally good edible or as a fragrance.

5. Lemon/Lime/Citrus based fragrances are very refreshing as air freshners and detergents :).

Current collection of aromas :

Latest - Cashmere Mist by DKNY
Favorite - Black by Kenneth Cole
Funtime - Heavenly by VS
To feel top of the world - Gucci Envy me

All day lotions/body wash : Cherry Blossom and Moonlight path from Bath and Body works

Lavendar and Vanilla aromatherapy for sleep mist.


Footnote :

Your Fragrance Profile

The best calming fragrance: basil The best fragrance for everyday wear: cinnamon The best fragrance to boost your sex appeal: musk The best fragrance for energy: eucalyptus

What's Your Fragrance Profile?

Panoramic pleasures

Wheeze-along

The air is full of pollen
My eyes are swollen
One day its hot, one day its cold
If people were to be polled
They'd swear that spring should arrive
With a bang, with a bow and an overdrive.

Life takes vegging

Reading cart : empty
Movie queue : empty
Music queue : empty
Artwork box : empty
Craftwork basket : empty
Kitchen and pantry : empty
Being affected by pollen and allergies : Sucks

Spending an entire weekend doing nothing in bed : Priceless

We are like this only

Me : "Appa, I called to ask if you survived the World Cup debacle."

Appa : "I am stepping out for a walk, call me on my cell."

Round 2 :

Me : "Appa, I called to wish you happy Ugadi."

Appa : "I am watching West Indies vs Bangladesh, call me on my cell."

Round 3 :

Me : "Appa, called to check if you have the account number and all the details."

Appa : "Ok good, SMS on my cell in another hour with all the details."

Round 4 :

Me : "Appa, do you want me to forward you the email?"

Appa : "Ya, email it to me and SMS when you are done, I will check it."

Phew! And I am told my Mom SMS's my sister during work hours checking to see if she had her breakfast/lunch/snack, if she drank enough water and if she stopped by the ATM to withdraw cash.

When I visit home and I rub the jet lagged stupor from my eyes, its 7pm and the house is silent. I fix myself a drink, lounge on the couch watching mundane programs on the many channels that I *dont-miss* but definitely realize the absence and so on and so forth and I realize its 9pm and I hear clicking noises from the front door. My family members arrive each in his/her own time between 9pm and 10pm.

Routine questions ensue to each-Where have you been? Why are you late? What do we do for dinner?

A variety of answers later, I decide that night(since my jetlag is keeping me awake) to buy my family one of those small white boards. A cute board with an attached marker pen is intantly placed very conveniently(en route to the front door) so that residents find it easy to jot down how long they'd be gone.

48 hrs later, the scene repeats. I wake up at 7pm to find the house empty yet again! I walk up to the white board and see the only thing that was ever written on it-my mother's standard "Om" written neatly on top as soon as it was purchased. The rest of the board remained squeaky clean and bereft of any updates. I guess that means everyone just disappeared into thin air.

Sigh! Why do I even try?

Of venting and being a vent!

9:01PM (on a weekday, note off-peak hrs start) : Ring Ring!

Me : "Hello"

Calling party : "Hey Altoid, hows it going?"

Me : "Good, hows you?"

Calling party : "{start rant}

9:40 PM after a myriad Hms and tongue clicking noises and appropriate methods to convey sympathy and support.....

Calling party : "So whats up with you? Whats going on?"

Me : "Errr, well you know stuff going on...its like" {abrupt disruption here by other party}

Calling party : "Hey, listen. I got to hang up now, I am {multiple choice options here}

1. at the library and need to hang up.
2. my sister just called and I need to take her call.
3. I am at the gas station.
4. {Unsaid but implied reason} I am done venting and dont really care to listen to you!

I usually am a good listener, I lend my ears and am told very often that I am a good confidante. Its not often that I vent but on those rare occasions when I do have something to vent about, is it too much to ask for a return favor? But really, does it have to be made so obvious that all I should be doing is listen? I am sure this too shall pass and I will be back to my generous self(I can feel my self conferred halo stirring into action as I write this) and rent my ears for all and sundry.

After reading this, if I see comments asking for my phone number please get in line and take a number token! Your case will be given due consideration and I reserve the right to deny!

Yeah! Did I mention I am told very often that I am stubborn? Girls are made of sugar AND spice arent they?

Got yarn?

Threadwork












Rangoli
=====================================================================

I love the story(stories?) that can be weaved from this scene-a myriad possibilities. The name that immediately popped into my head when I chanced upon this Needle N Thread kit on one of my visits to India was Kamala-Vimala. The second image is a rangoli version of the same wherein I had to memorize the scene and reproduce at a Rangoli competition some months ago.

The two women could be sisters, could be sisters-in-law, could be friends.........so got story? got name?

Anyone that can come up with a short story(maybe a small explanation for this scene) and names for the two women, please include them in the comments section.

Spread the word and let the stories begin!

Update(as of 30th March) : Is it pessimism or is it the body language like drooping shoulders and the posture? Everyone seems to have a sad story- some about parting, some about life's inevitable burdens even some about nostalgia.

I guess one can never tell for sure, regardless of what we weave, I conclude its a very thought-provoking piece- agree?

Really?

Them numbers about "Idol" votes and QVC buyers- are these real?

I find it hard to believe about 6 or 7 million people dialled in their votes on Americna idol or that some 25000 odd people called in and ordered a piece of clothing on QVC.

I mean do people sit and watch QVC 24x7x365 and order regularly?

I dont know, I only watch QVC while channel surfing and even then I find it hard to stick on to the channel to watch whats coming up next.

And voters. I follow American idol most seasons once it reaches the final 12 contestants stage. Be that as it may, I still havent reached the stage of text messaging my vote.

Maybe thats another feature I will sprout as I get more and more entrenched in the "Amerikaan" system.(note, I didnt say culture).

Indian I am and Indian I will be.

Moving on up

************************All characters are fictional********************************

"Hello ma'am your new car was delivered to the showroom last night, you're welcome to come pick it up anytime" said Paul with the right amount of excitement and glee in his usual dulcet tone as would make a satisfied customer rush to the showroom at one to pick up the prized possession. Anu hung up after promising to stop by in the next couple of hours.

As she drove to the dealership post-work she recalled the many trips that she'd made in this very car, a used (overused) jalopy of yesteryear. A "car" that she needed to get from point A to point B at a time when anything with wheels was a much better option than the thought of having to walk the distance or depend on public transport, with dwindling finances and sheer desperation.

[Begin flashback]
It all went back to the time she got a call from her recruiter that she'd done very well in her interview, the interviewers had been impressed and she should be packing soon to go to the faraway land of opportunities, challenges and ka-ching. This was all the catalyst she had needed to drift away into cloud nine land where the fast paced life coupled with limitless possibilities rode along life ...........rode along life in a....................convertible!

Thud, she fell on the ground with this dream when she realised that she'd probably have to start driving a four wheeler and couldnt manage to string along in two-wheelers like she had till now.

"Ammaaaaaaaaaaa" she cried, "I need to sign up for driving lessons, you know" she proclaims.

Appa looks up from his paper and smiles fondly for want of a better reaction at this scary to-do item. Ashu wears a look of horror at her sister's words, turns to her mom and says "Amma, I think Akka has lost it!".

Amma chips "Padma aunty's son went to Raja driving school right around the corner you know. I'll find out on my way back from school today, if you'd like."

Anu "Haan, can you amma? I can go for evening classes, around 5 maybe. I'll go early to work and should be able to come back early."

Two days later, amma announces over dinner that she signed Anu up for the driving class course- 3 weekdays at 5:30 for the next 4 weeks and then the driving test.

"Yipppieeee" screams Anu while Ashu has another horror-stricken face pasted all over. Appa pretends to watch news on TV.

On the first day of lesson, as Anu gets ready to head to class, Amma intercepts at the door with "Anu, I'll give you company for your lessons".

Anu accepts graciously enough as the two head over.

"Madam, my name is Kiran and I will be your instructor."

After initial introductions and the entourage seated, Kiran begins to explain the A(ccelarator)B(rake)C(lutch)'s of the car and driving. " Ma'am you first need to step on the clutch and move gears from neutral to first gear and at the same time let go of the gas pedal, slowly till the car begins to roll like thus and then (with foot still on clutch) shift to second gear(for whatever second gears are used for, the author is unable to recall) and then onwards to third(in a clear road with less traffic)" and with this demo, Kiran smoothly gets the car off the parking lot into an open field. He parks and smiles at Anu while asking her to get behind the wheel. Please note this would be the last time a smile adorns Kiran's face for the entire duration of the course.

The next 30 mins are spent exactly thus :

- Anu behind the wheel
- steps on the clutch
- moves from neural to first gear
- accelarates resulting in the car hopping a few inches in mid-air and then
- settling about a feet ahead with a thud and
- switching off and stopping.

wash, rinse, repeat!

Amma has an exaggerated expression of horror(akin to the one on Ashu's) with her mouth agape. Kiran watches patiently but with exhaustion dripping all over his face.

"Try maadi ma, you will get it" he says ever so encouragingly.

After 30 mins of this torture, Amma is in a near-palpitations stage and concedes. "Anu, do you want to try again tomorrow? Kiran-lets go back, this should do for today" she concludes.

"Let's try to park, we still have about 15 more minutes" persists Kiran enthusiastically.

He steps out of the car and sets two posts about the width of a car. He motions for Anu to step out for a minute and slides back into the driver's seat. Through the open window he coaches Anu on legal parking techniques.

Anu nods her head vigorously and decides not to try this new trick until she's mastered the first.

10 mins later, Amma chimes from the back seat "Shouldnt we head back now? I have to make dinner, you know."

Thus convinced, the entourage returns back to base. Kiran has the "how-did-i-sign-up-for-this-late-evening-nightmarish-session" look stamped all over his face.

Late in the night Amma tells Appa "You should teach her with your car, you know. She will learn better"

"Whatttttttt????" screams Appa.

"Well okay I know you dont want to ruin your prized possession, but this is your daughter. Who better to teach?" reasons Amma.

"Let her finish this course." dismisses Appa and turns over, settling into slumber.

Amma thinks she has a slight sprain in her back, probably due to the hopping car, but she dismisses the thought instantly. She sighs as she sinks into a blissful night's sleep.

Thus four weeks pass and slowly but surely there is promised progress. Every day Amma has grown a new worry wart in her system, her nagging back sprain has progressed into acute pain and Kiran's impatience has now emerged as a registered vice which shows in his demeanour(no longer pleasing and helpful). The late evening sessions are a daily test on the team's nerves, moods and dispositions.

"Ma'am your driving test is at 10am next Wednesday" announced Kiran on the last day of class. "And when you go abroad, can you get me a bottle of Scotch?"

"Sure, sure" says Anu averting Amma's scowl.

"So, what do you think Kiran? Will she pass?" asks Amma hopefully.

"Ma'am I will pray to all my Gods that she does. I cannot take any more classes!" concludes Kiran.

Between 10 am and noon on the day of the test a few people are in fervent prayer mode-Amma, Appa, Ashu and Kiran!

When Anu returns home later in the afternoon with a box of Anand Bhavan sweets, all at home are jubilant though Appa has some worry lines visibly evident.

Amma takes him aside and says "She is leaving in another 2 weeks, she wont use your car!"

"Phew" Appa sighs.
[End of flashback]

Anu's first car purchase in the "phoren" land after successfully getting the local license was an exciting trip for her friends more so than for her. She let herself be guided by the decisive calls made by them. And Voila! she was driving home a car of her own that evening.

The same car that had served her well for so many years. It had seen multiple road trips across many coasts that had improved her skills beyond Amma/Appa or even Ashu's wildest imagination. It had seen use and misuse, it had been the one asset she owned for many years.

And now, now after all these years, Anu had decided to get a brand new car, a stylish swanky one, in a color she had always dreamt about, every feature a luxury worth the wait. Some thing she had always dreamed about. And here she was, en route to picking up a beauty on wheels but trading in her best companion till date.

Sadness, mixed with excitement leaves an interesting after-taste.

Got declension?

The first time I heard about declension was from this excerpt in my English text book at school. The entire episode had me in splits back then as it still does by which Churchill's autobio "My Early Life" became one of my earliest books to go in the "library" collection. For the uninitiated, [start of day-dream]my "library" collection is the set of books that will go in the dark wood panelled library in my "house" lined with a wallpaper of books, will house a comfortable settee and recliner, a mini fridge stocked with the cool-aids and a sofa-bed that will serve as a bed for those that wish to stay the night over in this esteemed room.[end of day-dream].

As weird as we find the English language, I find the ones which support and entertain declensions even more so and this applies to languages like Sankrit, German, Latin and such. I was a disaster while Sankrit featured in our syllabus because of the need to use declensions and all along I'd recall this lesson from my English text. It encouraged me to know that Churchill himself had this to say in the above mentioned excerpt :

"When the last sound of my mother's departing wheels had died away, the Headmaster invited me to hand over any money I had in my possession. I produced my three half-crowns,; which were duly entered in a book, and I was told that, from time to time there would be a "shop" at the school with all sorts of things which one would like to have, and that I could choose what I liked up to the limit of the seven and sixpence. Then we quitted the Headmaster's parlour and the comfortable private side of the house/and entered the more bleak apartments reserved for the instruction and accommodation of the pupils. I was taken into a Form Room and told to sit at a desk. All the other boys were out of doors, and I was alone with the Form Master. He produced a thin greeny-brown covered book filled with words in different types of print.

"You have never done any Latin before, have you?" he said.

" No, sir."

"This is a Latin grammar." He opened it at a well-thumbed page. " You must learn this," he said, pointing to a number of words in a frame of lines. " I will come back in half an hour and see what you know."

Behold me then on a gloomy evening, with an aching heart, seated in front of the First Declension.

Mensa - a table
Mensa - O table
Mensam - a table
Mensae - of a table
Mensae - to or for a table
Mensa - by, with or from a table

What on earth did it mean? Where was the sense in it? It seemed absolute rigmarole to me. However, there was one thing I could always do: I could learn by heart. And I thereupon proceeded, as far as my private sorrows would allow, to memorize the acrostic-looking task which had been set me.

In due course the Master returned.

"Have you learnt it?" he asked.

"I think I can say it, sir," I replied; and I gabbled it off.

He seemed so satisfied with this that I was emboldened to ask a question.

"What does it mean, sir?"

"It means what it says. Mensa, a table. Mensa is a noun of the First Declension. There are five declensions. You have learnt the singular of the First Declension."

"But," I repeated," what does it mean?"

"Mensa means a table," he answered.

"Then why does mensa also mean O table," I enquired, "and what does O table mean?"

"Mensa, O table, is the vocative case," he replied.

"But why O table?" I persisted in genuine curiosity.

"O table – you would use that in addressing a table, in invoking a table." And then seeing he was not carrying me with him, "You would use it in speaking to a table."

"But I never do," I blurted out in honest amazement.

"If you are impertinent, you will be punished, and punished, let me tell you, very severely," was his conclusive rejoinder.

Such was my first introduction to the classics from which, I have been told, many of our cleverest men have derived so much solace and profit."