Best Dayz of My Life

fullstop

2006-08-21T08:19:00.000-07:00

DD died last night, sharp at 24:00:00. It was a peaceful death, she was a happy soul and died with a smile on her face.

May her soul rest in peace. It sure was an eventful life.

A valedictory Note

2006-08-21T05:13:00.000-07:00

“I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.”
~Quoting E. E. Cummings

--------

This is a thank you note. A note to all of you whom I have ever met (here or in the virtual world outside), for enriching my life. You guys are amazing, and leave me at a loss of words to express my gratitude.

Yet, there are certain "those ones" I am particularly grateful to.

Thanks to Achan & Amma, for giving up your lives for ours.

Thank Achan, for making a second dish whenever I didn't like the dinner.

Thanks Amma, for still buying me all those matching-matching ear rings.

Thanks brother, for telling me no one can love me more than you do and for buying me all those tiny gifts.

Thanks to Elayamma, for being my second Mom.

Thanks to AJ, for everything. For taking the brunt of my outbursts. I know I had been unfair. I know I am still.

Thanks to J, for understanding me. I admire your personality.

Thanks to Nair, for telling me that Mr.Nair won't come between us.

Thanks to Sari, for still being concerned.

Thanks to Joy, for being my Joy.

Thanks to RT, for being an elder brother all the time. I am obliged to you all my life.

Thansk to every one in Hyderabad for those wonderful days.

Thanks to Sruthi, for accommodating my messy world in your spic & span room.

Thanks to Rafeeq, and you know why.

Thanks to Praseeth, and you know why too.

Thanks to Netti, for being the epitome of innocence I have seen.

Thanks to Kuttan, Manoj & Sajith, for being a phone call away, anytime.

Thanks to all my STASian pals, for those wonderful years.

Thanks to KS & Arjun, for being real from virtual.

Thanks to Babes, for just being Babes.

Thanks to Parul, for taking me in. (And sorry for all unintentional troubles)

Thanks to my Phirang colleagues, for improving my ability to understand English movies.

Thanks to Mr.NRI, for increasing my level of patience.

Thanks to NK Sir, for being a inspirational senior.

Thanks to Boss, for being the greatest Boss of the world.

Thanks to Big Boss, for being such a great Big Boss.

Thaks to "Eletta Sister", for being my first teacher and greatest of all.

Thanks to Kannan Sir, for being the best memory of my MBA days.

Thanks to all of you in this big net of internet, for choosing to know me.

Thanks to Blogger, for making DD who lived MY life.

And if I have missed anyone, that is 'cos I find "Thank You" too much of a cliche to show you my gratitude.

-------

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.
~Thornton Wilder

qUoTiNg MySeLf

2006-08-12T02:36:00.000-07:00

“You want to think and say that you have everytning you need, but then you realize that something is missing, someone is missing... and once you think you've found it, it goes and disappears on you and you don't understand what to do or even where to start looking for that missing piece of the puzzle. You sit at home in lonely frustration and you just wait...wait...and wait. No where to look, no one to look for...”

~ I didn't write it. And I neither know nor care who did~

-----------------------

It is perfectly human to loath Chocolates, Ice Creams and other Sweets. There is no scientific/mythic/religious proof that only aliens loath them. Even if it is so, it is preferable to be an alien than feel pukish after having them.

It is absolutely possible to remain thin/underweight without the help of any exercise/diet. Especially so, if the whole family is like that.

There is nothing to stare with your mouth open when somebody thinner than you hogs more than you do.

There is no law in even the most anarchic of countries that prohibits to stumble while you walk.

Not being a movie freak doesn't mean you live in 5th century.

Being a girl doesn't necessitates to say Chooo Chwweet and Choo Cute with every other sentence.

Capital punishment is not meant for a bad dressing/make-up sense.

It is possible to get bored of music in 5 minutes.

It is not impossible to live a peaceful and happy life even if the only sport known is Jumping Jacks. Better, if you know NONE.

No sports ~ says Winston Churchill

Eating with spoons doesn't necessarily mean you are sophisticated. You can be plain lazy to clean your hands.

No restaurant prohibits people who sit squat legged and dine.

The knowledge on different types coffee/tea/other beverages served in Cafe Coffee Day is not a measure of your IQ.

It is not a psychic disorder to spend money on books. It is even less so to read what you buy.

It is always possible to eat what you cook even when that seems impossible to others.

There is nothing wrong in not having a driving license.

It is pardonable if you say kuntry for country.

Rice can be eaten all five times a day.

5'2" is not a fatal disorder.

One blunder per day is absolutely normal.

There is nothing disgraceful or to be proud of in admitting/being a mallu. It is nothing more or less than being an Maharashtrian/Tamilian/Kashmiri/Bihari.

Going abroad need not be the ultimate goal of everyone’s life.

Knowing Hindi doesn't include knowing to count in Hindi.

Hyderabadi Hindi is perfect.

You are not necessarily dumb if you ask Pardon Me after every other sentence. The person who is speaking to you can be vague or wrong.

To not fight for the TV remote is not the indication of going mentally retarded.

Having an opinion on everything under the sun can be fatal. Keeping your mouth shut is an art. Even better, if you know how to smile and nod when you are irritated to the core.

It is always better to let go of the argument than waste your energy on arrogant brats who think they just can't be wrong.

Learn to fake. Learn to live.

It is not necessary to consider everyone else as of inferior quality. You can always treat them, atleast, as equals and acknowledge and respect their experince and knowledge. This stands even if you think you are the most brilliant/creative/whatever.

Boys don't cry. I am not a boy.

Girls need not cry. I am still a girl.

Cowboys/SuperMen/Pirates do exist. If they don't, you can always be the first.

Being a non-veggie doesn't mean you live on a staple diet of Chicken/Mutton/Beef/Pork. You can live on a staple diet of fish as well.

Your best friend can get married. Yup, it happens. And the whole rules change (I guess).

Fish is a vegetable.

Chilies are vegetable too.

And last but not the least, coconut adds to the taste.

Those were the days!!!!!!!!!!

2006-08-08T02:20:00.000-07:00

~Posting my friendship day mail to our yahoo group~

I believe in angels,
The kind that heaven sends,
I am surrounded by angels,
But I call them friends.
~ Aizabel Parinas ~

One fine day we all came together under one roof, stayed there for three years and became friends for a lifetime. It is said the most enjoyable age is the college days. I bet, it is.

I don't think I can name a single textbook or the most repeated theory. But I can still recollect all my STASian pals.

Innocent Netti and Industrious Susan
Kuttan, the terror Yet so dear
Remla, the beauty and Rupa, the chirpy
Ajay, the loverboy and Anish, the funniest
AH the smoker and Sajith the brightest
Ayana, the gem and Dhanya, the sweetest
Lipsa, the bubbly and Gisha, the smartest
Sherry, the humblest and Nazia, the dancer
Saritha, the Japanese and Manoj, the techy
Vibin, beyond words and Suresh, the Chairman
Viju, the best and Ranjith, the missing
Jovary, the youngest and Dilip, the eldest
Thecki, with specs and Enos, the thinnest
Navya, the cutest and Rekha, the bookish
Jisha, the shortest and Vijesh, the tallest
Sreejith, the cyclist and Sreeja, the pious
CR, the rep and Praveen, the elusive
Bini, the smiley and Appukkuttan, the enigma
Geo, the fairest and Reeja, the forgotten
Akhila, the pretty and Sanfi, the quietest

And if you think your name is not there cos I forgot you, naaaaaaa. Its just that my vocabulary is run out of adjectives ;)))

Half a decade passed by and we still hear about each other.

May our bond of friendship last forever !!!!!!!!!

~If any of my STASian pals reading this, I just want to tell you - Those were the days !!!!!!!! ~

Not all treasure is silver and gold ~ says Capt.Jack Sparrow

2006-07-30T23:31:00.000-07:00

"We have been friends together
In sunshine and in shade."
~Caroline Sheridan Norton

I was introduced to this thinner than me boy-cut-still-cute female on a sunny Hyderabadi summer day. She was chatting to a scaringly chipkoo guy, who later became so damn famous that we all learnt the vanishing act at the very mention of the first alphabet of his name. She gave me condescending look. Forced a customary Hi from her mouth and was back to her listening mode. (He hardly used to give others a chance. Bliss in one way, you can dream of a holiday with your fantasy lover and he would go on blabbering about that girl in blue skirt).

New to Hyderabad with my kuntry mallu ways, funny Hindi and funnier English, I was looking for a fellow mallu. I ended up meeting this enigma called Nair. Farthest from that stereotyped girl, she scared me enough that it took me nearly a year to learn to talk to her without shivering on my knees. The next day onwards I have always found her either alone or with some Rashtra Bhasha speaking company. I never dared venturing into her territory.

Everyday, whenever she made her royal entry into the class, I used to stare at her with my eyes wide open trying to decipher what material on earth was she made of. She had this funny looking spectacle, that I am sure is a product of an artist crazier than she herself, with a Mickey mouse’s picture on its frame!!! (Later she disclosed that tightly kept secret – she used to buy all her stuffs from the kids section. She had to reveal it when someone wanted to buy her a birthday gift).

As time flew, we happened to stay in the same flat and scariest of all, in the same room!!!! I was very cautious in my approach. I used to make sure that I didn’t get into her way.

Two years have passed since those days and now she knows me in and out, upside down, knows the best in me and the worst in me. She has seen me laughing my guts out and seen me crying like mad. One of those rare people who have seen me cry. Even my parents haven’t seen me crying after my toddler days.

I simply admire her. The most talented and smart girl I have come across. But don’t ask her to dance. I know she just can’t. Once she managed to make some weird (and weak) gyrations supposed to be taken for a dance. We all pardoned her for that clowny act 'cos we simply adore her.

But you want her to sing? Due to some early childhood set backs she stopped singing. But still hums sometimes. I must agree, she can.

Barring those Pulitzer/Booker/Nobel laureates she is the best when it is comes to the-way-with-words. Poetry in particular. I still have a sheet from our college magazine which I keep with my precious possessions in which one of her poems are printed. Poetry had always been greek and latin to me. She is one of those rare breeds of poets who write in English, and write it well without confusing me much by using the oxford dictionay in its entirety.

We used to go for long walks round the college almost all night, rather midnight. Then we come back and sit in front of college just staring up to the sky, till the mosquitos literrally drive us off that place. There used to be this dog whom I strongly suspect was a mad admirer of her in his last birth, who might have taken his life when she haughtily rejected his marriage proposal. Though she claims to be a "pet-lover" , this pet was a bit too much to be loved in the normal sense. She knows and I know what happened. Rest is left to your imagination.

One day she would call me and scold me for wasting money and give a long long lecture on the need to start saving at the earliest age and the next day call me and say that she spent like mad that day. She has got the most innocent and cutest smile ever; that is deceptive, ofcourse.

Anytime I make a Himalayan blunder (considering that there were quite a few), she is the only one who tells me it is just human to err. But once I am emotionally settled down she would open her bag of be-a-good-girl advices followed by this dialogue - "I know I make the same mistakes, but when I advice you I should tell you the right thing". Loads of hugs and kissess for that, sweety.

Whenever it rains, she would call me twice, without fail: once to warn me to leave office early and then to make sure that I am home.

If you're alone, I'll be your shadow.
If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder.
If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow.
If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile.
But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me.
~Author Unknown

Tomorrow, this lovely lady is getting older by one year. I am posting it today itself so that I am the first to wish her as I know I will have a tough competetion if I am to wait for the clock to tick 12. A couple of wishes for her year ahead:
May you get over with your dread of Mumbai local trains
May you stop doing the "same" blunder the fifth time
May you stop driving me mad with your choice of clothes
May your give your mom & dad a little less reason to worry about
May your "bhuddi" boss give you good ratings
May you become a little less of a confused soul thereby giving us all peace of mind
May your phone go dead when you feel like calling me at odd times and scaring me with all your crazy views on life
May you go onsite (oops....then whom will I call and whine about my self-created problems? I take it back)
May working in an IT giant boost up your knowledge on computers a bit more and may you not need to give the user name and password of your blog to me
May all your dreams come true !!!!!

There are times I wonder what life has in store for us. Personally & professionally, we both happen to go thru similar ups & downs one after the other. Once I painfully finish consoling her, it would be her turn to be the only solace to me. We are still going through the rigamarole of we-don't-know-what-and-whys.

Let me be frank, if God ever gives me a choice, I would never want to have a kid like her, though I will insist I want her as my dearest friend all my life. Sad that it took us two decades to meet each other. I am amused at her ability to find the most complex answers to the simplest of questions. Believe me, she is her best at it.

Our dear lady-with-a-singing-heart was a marketing wonder back in college. I get to hear that in her career also she is making small time wins. I am sure you are going to make it real big one day. One day I may find your photo in the newspaper the vegetable seller wraps my potatoes in. I am sure I am gonna yell at him: Hey, thats nair, u duffer. How dare you do that with her photo?

I wonder, will you keep the same hairstyle then? Keep that "mute" giggle intact, dear.

Whichever guy is your destiny, what a lucky soul he is !!!!!!!!!!

Thanks for taking me "as I am", with all the wierdness and foolishness
Thanks for still telling I am the best
Thanks for making those STD calls and consoling me all night
Thanks for taking me in your flat when I had no place in the big Mumbai outside
Thanks for letting me use your make-up kit when I was forced to drape a sari in college
Thanks for letting me take the credit and making me feel "great" for helping you

Love you sweetie, may our friendship last till our last days on earth.

May we have a computer, internet connections and TIME even after we are married off to two "handsome & millionaire hunks” at the two extremes of the world where we are busy cleaning, washing and bathing our crazy offsprings who come in dozens. Amen..

*still wondering what material on earth is she made of. may be something specially sent from heaven(hell?) or so*

Fighting Davy Jones

2006-07-26T02:45:00.000-07:00

Faster than a speedin bullet!
More powerful than a locomotive!
Able to leap over tall buildings in a single bound!
Look!! Up in the Sky!!
Its a Bird!Its a Plane!
No.. Its Su-perman!!

Everytime I read/hear/see anything on SuperMan, SpiderMan, BatMan and even Krish, I wonder why there is no movie called "Wonder Woman"? (If there is some movie by that name, please pardon me for my poor knowledge of Movies).

The idea of doing wonder-acts, has always been fascinating for me. How thrilling it will be if I can jump over the tall buildings and kick off the BadMen of this world. What a pride it will be if the BadMen and their kowtowing army are to quiver at the mention of my name. I will stick to the all-black-and-shiny dress code. Black is classy and elegant. I think I would even prefer a stylish mask, 'cos as somebody said "obscurity sometimes rhymes with security".

Not being a movie freak, my association with the occult powers can not go beyond the faint recollection of the Rajnikanth Movies I have watched at an innocent age. I think those movies sowed the seeds on my vulnurable mind.

Though in real life we hardly come across people who can even be remotely associated with such gimmicks or powers (as you choose), I am sure that we all have seen traces of that talent in someone or the other, atleast during our childhood days.

In all my life I have known only one such lady. She is the only one who showed me the vanishing act back at home. She used to be seen near my house and in a split second she would get vanished along with a couple of crockery, bucket and some clothes drying outside. Since Achan is a staunch follower of Ahimsa and a global peace seeker, Amma used to get forced to give up her ideas of raiding that lady's house to claim back her things.

I have never seen her flying over the tall coconut trees. And till the time I had known her no one in Kodakara had seen a pistol. So I assume, atleast till then, she hadn't faced any bullets; which leaves me in a postion of not being able to answer questions such as "Did the bullets hit her eye and got crunched?" and "Did the bullet hit her head and bounced back?". Yet she was the first and the last soul who could give me any real life taste of such admirable acts.

It was during the long vacation after my 10th standard that brother first introduced me to my all time Hero - JetLee. I don't recollect the number/names/stories of the JetLee movies I have watched. For that matter, I have hardly understood any of those stories. Sadly, these days I don't often get to watch him. But I still remember his long pleated hair and the handsome face. Not to mention the enchanting martial arts tricks. I guess he was my first ever serious crush. All I remember is the name of just one of his movies - The Hero - though I have watched many.

Whoever has happened to stay with me has always found me watching those martial-arts/woder-acts/occult-powers movie in awe. Even now, I hardly understand the story. I am not even bothered about it. All that catches my fascination is the way they fight in the air, the quick moves and the incredibly adventurous surroundings.

Last weekend I managed to force Nair to watch The Pirates of The Carribean with me. I have watched the first part almost two years back and since then, I am so much lured towards being a pirate.

Despite all the scientific advances that has happened, what a dull and withered era are we living in. How thrilling it would have been for all those pirates to rule over the sea and hunt for secret treasures. It is not the never exhausting treasures that I long for. It is the excitement and the challenge of the treasure hunt.

Everthing said and done, I am still a woman at heart. I don't want to hurt/kill innocent people for the fun of it. I swear I will follow the foot steps of the great Robin Hood. But I would sure want to fight other evil pirates wandering on the sea. Who knows, I may find the Flying Dutchman and conquer Davy Jones to free all the captured souls from their myseries.

Sigh ... I think I am day dreaming

Notes: Thanks to Pirates of the Carribean for adding to my fascination thru Flying Dutchman and Davy Jones

aFTerMaTh

2006-07-19T04:14:00.000-07:00

I didn't expect the aftermath to be like this. Though, on the macro level, it looks like a ridiculous move, I personally feel we should give our Govt some more time to settle down themselves.

The reason why I still empathise with the rest of my blogger friends is the ludicrous logic behind the ban. I have certain doubts.

1> What makes you think that the masterminds behinds serial bomb blasts and hijacks are lamentably dumb, if we laymen can access the blogs despite the ban?

2> If blogs can be potential threats, don't you think internet in any of its myriad forms is a threat in intself?

3> Isn't it a serious vioaltion of the most important fundamental right "freedom of speech and expression" for the non-terrorist lot?

Though I still prefer to beleive this is a short time ban and keep mum about it, there is a potential threat with that. I don't see the religious fundamentalism or terrorrism in its bigger form ending in any near future. Despite the best of precautions, there will still be sporadic outbreaks of violence. So, if the Govt is to respond each time the same way, Republic of India will be in no way different from a Taliban ruled state. Ironically, the Govt will be forcing democracy over us.

Now, if it is a long time ban, all I have to say is "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!". May be it is "the brain drain". All our good brains are in US. Phew...

My experiments with Indian Railways

2006-07-17T01:36:00.000-07:00

~ This is a mail I have sent to a couple of my friends, few months back. I was going through my archives and found it. It is after getting tired of my such mails that some of my friends suggested me to start a blog. Who cared? So finally, Rose herself started one for me and pasted one of my never ending mails as the first post. ~

Some people have something in their face that we never forget them, even if the meeting last only for 10 minutes. I met such a guy this morning.

I was getting out of the station and walking as if I am participating in Olympics. It was already 10.15 and I badly wanted to change the tag of a late comer. With 15 minutes I would have barely managed to make it on time at 10.30.

That's when this guy came in front of me. All white attire, clean and thoroughly pressed. Can't actually tell he is handsome, short and fair, middle aged with curly hair. I was too busy to notice him. But he didn't want to let me go. He pushed his way through the crowd and stood in front of me. "Tickets, please".

I put my hands inside the bag and kept on searching for a season ticket that I didn't have for the last one week. After doing that for 5 minutes he humbly told me to sit on the bench there and search patiently. Smart chap,I guess I am not the first crooked traveler he is dealing with.

You can't actually blame me. I never had any intentions to fool the IndianRailway. Its just that by the time I get to the station the queue at the ticket counter is formidable enough that I am left with no option but to put off the ticket buying for the next day. Everyday, exactly at that time I make a resolution to get up early next day and make the pass. As thesaying goes, tomorrow never comes.

After around 10 minutes, I had exhausted all my acting skills. I didn'teven had to tell anything. He said "260 rupees". The tickets would have costed me 9 rupees and 15 minutes. That means I would have bought exactly 28.88 tickets with that. All the passers by, without the exception of one,was giving me "that look". I hope now you understand why I really didn'twant to bribe him and settle the matter with 100 bucks.

Good and efficient guy. Lallu Prasad has a good team at Indian Railways.

a few words

2006-07-12T00:19:00.000-07:00

I am fine.

After an evening of cunfusion, jammed phone lines, concerned relative & friends and a possibility of seeing death in close quarters .... I feel terribly sorry for the city.

A silent moment of prayer for all who lost their precious lives to someone else's insanity.
We all share the grief of your families.
And those who are injured, the whole of Mumbai is behind you. So is the rest of the nation. Even the enitre world outside.

I wish those who died had lived a little longer to see brighter days and calmer nights.

May humanity wake up and people learn to live as human beings.
May we stop being beasts.........

the visual way ..

2006-07-10T01:15:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Mathew & Deepa for this.

1. Most desired celebrity

Sigh.......... Good Bad or Ugly, he is an eternal crush

2. Want to do this some day

I nuture this dream of taking an elephant ride for the last couple of years. I remember the day I fought with Achan to let me do that. We were at some exhibition. There was this small elephant that was available for a small ride @ Rs10. It was a "kid" elephant and only "kids" were availing of the entertainment.

Achan said he had no problems as long as I do it when he was not around. He said his grown up daughter can't embarass him by choosing an entertainment only kids upto 10 year old were taking up.

I was adamant that I wanted to do it and he was adamant that I can't as long as he was around. FInally we reached at a compromise. He gave me 10 bucks and told me that I could do that after Achan, Amma & Brother had reached outside the gate. I was supposed to take the ride on my own, without making much fuss about it and join them in 10 mins.

All this was happening at 20 mtr distance from the elephant. Once Achan left I approached the elephant with shivering knees. I could see Achan throwing casual glaces in my direction. I was determined. As I was approaching the elephant I could get the strong smell of its excrement. I couldn't breath. While I was waiting for my turn in the long queue of clammering kids, I thought I would puke.

Half of the kids backed off as they approached their turn. Out of the other half, almost all of them screamed their lungs out. Well, I am light hearted. I didn't wait it to be my turn. I just turned back and ran back to the protecting circle of my loving family, waiting outside.

Brother hasn't forgotten about it till date. I have taken both a Camel ride & a horse ride as a preparation. I am two steps closer to my destination. Next time I see any elephant wandering on the Mumbai streets, I am gonna bribe the mahout. All I want is a photo of Her Higness sitting on it, to throw at a never-forgetting brother.

3. Want to visit this place

"If there is a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here."

His Majesty Shihabuddin Muhammad Shahjahan, the fifth Mughal emperor.

4. Random Favorite

And I call it beauty !!!!!!!!!!

I have seen pictures of Taj. Have seen those miniature models. Never understod what is the beuty of this much touted building.

Then I got a chance to see it. When we enterd the main gate and got the first glimpse, I stood there, gasping for breath. Taj was glowing, right in front of my eyes.

I haven't seen much of the world. But I doubt if any other man made sturucture can beat it when it comes to beauty. My pooer vocabulary doesn't let me describe how I felt when I was there. So far, I was never so awestruck.

Was it Stalin who said Taj is nothing but the tears and lives of thousands of poor and helpless laborours? Could be, still I can't stop admiring it.

If you ever get a chance, go and feel what beauty is.

The deadly virus

2006-06-28T01:07:00.000-07:00

What is this thing called Football Fever? Is that the same virus that makes my sweet & otherwise accommodating roomie snatch the remote from me & then completely ignore my earthly existence for the next 90 minutes?

I see that this virus is a wide spreading one. Rather, one fine day it caught inside the fat, slim, tall, short bodies of people around the world without any discrimination towards sex, caste or social class.

This makes people not to attend phone calls during certain times of the day and even if they attend scream "Gooaaaaaaaaalll" during the conversation thereby warning the caller not to repeat the crime thereon.

This virus, I observe, can sometimes lead to neglected kids to broken families and bitter divorces. People infected by the virus keep chanting the names of alien nations they have never ever gone to or intend to go to as if that would lead to their "Moksha" from this materialistic world.

I am proud of myself that I have managed to hide from the virus till date though there are times I was quite vulnerable. But the immunity is not gained by some expensive vaccination. It took years of self control and all sorts of spiritual & non spiritual disciplines to get to this stage.

Even if I search in the innermost & earliest part of my memory, nowhere I see myself posing for a photograph with a tennis racket or anything that remotely resembles a foot ball. Sport had always been as important as the GDP of Botswana for me.

I remember the time when Achan encouraged us to get up as early as 5.30 in the morning and go for a morning walk or run, that too when we were in the remote corner of India called Kodakara. That happened only on one day. The very next day I threatened to jump into the well if he dared wake me up at that unearthly time. Being a good Achan, he gave up.

My fourth standard teacher made the second attempt to dig out my hidden talents. She made me run with tens of other classmates in the pretext of choosing the fastest one to be sent to the district level competition. I knew it was a trap. Though I was a kid, I was a brainy kid. I fooled her by finishing exactly as the last one out of around fifty kids. (I still remember the face of that toothless, spectacled brat who laughed at me for that).

My brother cajoled me into being a wicket keeper at times. The moment I saw Achan starting his balling action, I would run as fast as I could so as not to hurt myself with his speeding ball. Mind you, that has got nothing to do with brother's batting abilities. But I always believed prevention is better than cure. Since the job description of the wicket-keeper didn't exactly match with my profile, I was fired.

My never-say-die Achan gave a second try on me by buying us a pair of Tennis rackets and some expensive ball. Brother and me ensured that Achan's money didn't go waste; brother by taking up Tennis as his latest fling and me by donating mine to any other neighborhood kid.

It was Amma's turn next. She tried to test my resolution by showing the black & white photo of a couple of college girls wearing a hockey uniform and pointing out to one thin, long-curly-haired and short girl with all sorts of emotions in her eyes and screaming "thats meeeeeeeeee". I commented that I have always liked black & white photos as they made me look fairer.

Under Achan's influence Amma told me bed time stories about her being the Caroms champion of her office and even showed me the stainless steel glasses & spoons she won for their inter-office competition. But I was determined not to indulge in such evil pleasures.

The moment my dear roomie start staring into the TV and get metamorphosed into one of those face-painted, weirdly tattooed people with a football haircut, I make sure that I leave the room and meditate against the temptation inside my bedroom.

Temptations will always be there, but here I am, standing proud, unaffected and determined to fight it at any cost. Atlast I have a cause to keep me going.

Peeping into myself

2006-06-22T03:48:00.000-07:00

This guy is all intrigued about me. Let me try giving him some insights.

My Accent: Mallu ishtyle

Booze: Tried twice & realised not really my cuppa tea.

Its damn expensive & I didn't feel like I was walking on the cloud, neither did I dare pick up a fight with the eveteasers, couldn't remember to call my then-boss and call him names, didn't cry over a lost love of my KG class, didn't want to meet Amma right at that moment & nobody raped me mixing that drug in the booze as they say in those e-mail forwards...

phew .. nothing happened??? that was all??? ....

So I am happy with my coffee, tea & butter milk in the reverse order.

Chore I Hate: Cleaning the kitchen & washing the plates after dinner. It is so difficult to get up after hogging like mad; just want to sleep like dead, right there on the table.

Dog or Cat: Neither. They bite. I hate.

Essential Electronics: Nothing. I was computer science for grad and finance for mba. (OK, I can hear some one shouting "PJ,PJ" in the background)

Perfume: Got three. All gifts. Guess I stink ;) (Thanks dear for those and lot more)

Gold or Silver: White gold (Yet to buy anything in that. But I am sure I am gonna like it). Someone please take it as a hint.

Home: Refugee in Mumbai

Insomnia: Whats that???

Job Title: Business Analyst (And what is that? I think they haven't come up with a proper title on what I do. So sticking to that.)

Living Arrangements: Staying in one of the best areas in Mumbai. You gotta see to beleive it and its dead cheap too. (Sadly, gotta move out in one month)

Most Admirable Traits: I think it is my ability to get along with most types of nerds, except for the arrogant ones

Number of Sexual Partners: None yet. Not planning to rape anyone either, yet to reach the height of frustration. So all you handsome hunks, you can hang around near me without any apprehensions.

Number of times in hospital: Once. When me and HOG fell off the bike. It went like this.

We were taking a turn under the overbridge.
Me: "I think we are falling"
After five seconds, He: "I think we fell off"
After half an hour, in the hospital, Rafeeq: "You guys fell off?"

Phobias: Heighttttttttttt. Just can't look down from the terrace. I can eat crockoaches if you insist but yes, I am acrophobic.

Animals & birds.
All started when I was a kid & one daughter-of-a-bitch hen ran after me just 'cos poor me passed thru the place where all her offsprings were hanging around. I ran with my record speed. (Though I have had a couple of other occassions to rejuvenate my talent, had never broken that rrrecord).

Then there was a crow that mistakenly took poor me for the destructor of its nest and sratched my head, making me think I was encountering some ghostly spirit haunting me.

Quote: Mind if it's a poem??

There’s no thrill in easy sailing,
When the sky is clear and blue.
There’s no joy in merely doing
Things which anyone can do.
But there is some fulfillment
That is mighty sweet to take,
When you reach a destination,
You thought you couldn’t make.
(Author Unknown)

Religion: India is a secular country

Siblings: A freaky brother who is an aspiring drummer but an engineer by chance, a lyricist & music director by choice and a voracious reader by habit. Damn good story teller, knows about all the so far existed music bands & particularly knows the life history of their drummers, has got some crazy female fans, always helps me out of Achan's fury, recently shaved off his long hair which was longer than mine. Made up of the best material for a sibling & embellished with sparkling friendship traits

Time I Wake Up: Anytime between 0 am to 12 pm. The probabilty is high between 8.30 am to 3 pm.

Unusual Talent or Skill: The unbeatable ability to embarass myself. This is something I was blessed with during birth. But a lot of hard work had gone into actually developing it.

I have worn my skirt inside out in school, not just once or twice, but a good number of times.

Recently I was fwding a pesonal mail to someone with a sarcasting remark about the original sender. Pressed reply and sent to the original sender........

Those are just the tip of the iceberg.

Vegetable I Love: Fish, fish & fish. After that - Lady's finger, Cabbage, Row banana, Leafy vegs, Cucumber, you name it & I love it.

Worst Habit: Not being attentive at times & procrastination..

X-Rays, Last time: In Jan, for my pre-employement medical check up

Yummy Food I Make: Cabbage Thoran, Ladies Finger and yes, fish fry.

Whenever I am at home, I insist on making fish fry myself.
Coriander+Green Chilly+ Ginger Garlic+Pepper+Salt , marinate and fry ... somebody take me home, plssssssssssssss

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

People tagged to do it : HOG, (gotta force him all the time to write something), Nair (hopefully she will oblige owing to her new found blogging talent), Rafeeq (gotta wait & watch), Rose (u better, u cud be moving in with me)

When Harry met Sarry

2006-06-19T04:50:00.000-07:00

Before your wild imagination takes you to the wilder South African forests let me clarify that I haven’t tattooed his name on my wrist yet. Neither has he cut his finger to put the sindoor on my head. I will keep you informed the moment we decide to elope singing pyar-kiya-tho-darna-kya… So till then you can pass time thinking of Rakhi Sawant & Mika Singh

Sometimes we have no explanation as to why we meet some one. Somebody just walks in and be a part of our life. So much a part of our day to day existence that a life without he/she becomes so painfully unimaginable. All my life I had been really lucky. And when it comes to people, I was luckier.

This guy walked into my life one fine day with his ever enchanting smile and became a big part of my small and messy world. We are not bound by any social or genetical obligation. Still we go on. If you still don’t know who am I referring to, you can check this or this.

"He is weirder than you told me”
That is what exactly what I told my friend when she introduced her school time pal to me for the first time. Well, there was more for me to find out.

Every one else kept wondering how could I laugh on all of his PJs and I was wondering how could he remember all of those PJs since time immemorial. He not only could recollect those but also narrate it so lively that I could laugh even if I was in a funeral and till my tummy ached threatening to throw up all the chicken I just ate.

We could talk about anything under the sun and were happy about each other that we got someone who actually cared to listen. Nothing was taboo. While on the roller coaster ride he would try to give me tips as to how I could avoid my fear, which I would understand only after the guy who operates stopped the whole thing fearing I would jump out of it and somebody poured the entire bottle of Pepsi down my throat.

In the mornings it always used to be a whirlpool experience before getting into the office. He would promise to pick me from my place and drop me before he went to work. He would stop in front of the roadside shop to force me to have breakfast. I would yell and abuse him with my witchiest of tongues that I would get late for the office. He would still remain calm and try to force me have food. He would plead and cajole me into eating something, promising lots of rewards in return, waking up the stubborn five year old in me. I would oblige by pushing the food down my throat. And he would fly with a scared-to-death me with eyes closed sitting behind.

He would call me and keep talking to me till the time he realises that I fell asleep long time back. I would hang up on his face on a rage of fury and he never hesitated to call back. I never remembered or noticed that he needed something but he noticed it was winter and left his jacket at my place.

We have tried cooking together but couldn't agree upon the amount of chilly to be put. We fought in the kitchen with the knives, still had food with so much relish that everyone else thought we were just back from Somalia.

He would gift me anything and everything and I, being my same careless wicked self would lose it somewhere. After that it would be Rose's responsibility to go on a frantic searching mode just to confirm that "it is lost". He would yell at me for not being careful but buy me the same thing again hoping I would change one day.

His perseverance is really admirable. Even after knowing me for more than a year, he still believes that I would change one day. Something like one day I would get up and call him to tell, look I have decided to keep things in order, apply for my ECNR, have food at proper times, be careful while walking on the road and …. and … and …

When I was moving out of Hyderabad, I knew he is going to be the one person whose absence will always stand in the way of my liking towards Mumbai.

Last weekend, he was here. Though he was bit lost with his sweetheart (;)), he managed to rejuvenate our warm friendship. We had a real blast. So much fun for two days.

I didn't know where to take him. I was equally scared to introduce him to the Mumbai trains. But I had no choice.

We were at the railway station. Anyone who has even heard of M of Mumbai must have invariable heard of its railway stations and trains. He had heard about it too. But he wasn't sure if I was just exaggerating. (Can’t blame him for suspecting that).

"I want to try the train"
"Sure? You may not find it easy"
"Phew"

OK. I was scared that it would be too crowded and messy for him. So we took first class ticket. The station was not as crowded as I thought. Still there was the typical hustle bustle. We stepped into the station and I was walking fast towards the platform dragging him along.

"You are careless while walking"
"Me, why?" I didn't get it.
"Don’t you see these perverts coming and hitting you purposely?"
"What? Common, everyone is in a hurry; you are getting worried for no reason"
"You don't know about men"

He literally managed to get me to the platform with nothing but the hot & humid air touching me. I can't describe the look he gave to the fellows who dared to pass anywhere near me. He would stand as a wall between the crowd and me. We had to get down at Dadar to change to central line. He got a view of the crowd from the top of the over bridge. He couldn't se anything other than people's heads.

"What an uncivilized crowd?"
"What crowd?!!!!!!!!!"
"I don't understand why they can’t maintain any decorum"
“!!!!!!!!!”

The train came and left in less than half a minute. He kinda got to know the reason behind the barbaric mumbaikars. On our train journey back, he looked at me with the innocence and regret of a 10 year old.
"I didn't know that these trains are such a mess. Sorry dear"

He was shaken and I could see the concern in his eyes. Then came a list of do's and don't do's to be followed while entering/traveling/exiting the trains; a long list indeed. I lost count after the 102 tip.

If you want to know a first-hand narration of the weekend, you should check here.

Man, we all had a great weekend. All of us – me, Rose and Nair, managed to keep our lazy ass selves in the closet for some time and managed to catch up with you. Come down more often. We are all waiting for you.

Now you know why I call him my best friend. They say friends are god sent angels. I don't know about everyone, but he truly is.

Achan

2006-06-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write something special for fathers’ day. I had been thinking for days. But couldn't come up with something that would match the passion with which I wrote this on Mothers' Day. So finally I decided to write about the same thing in a different angle. After all Achan and Amma come as a package. Let a day not seperate them.

Achan was always sad that he couldn't study much due to his parents' financial circumstances. But he always wanted all of us, Amma, me and brother to study and reach the zenith of achievements.

"Do you know what, today Rahima told me that if I do some course as an additional qualification, my office will reimburse the tuition fee" Amma told this one day and it all began.

Achan was excited.” Did you find out what can you study?"
"There is this PGDCA that everyone in office is planning to do?"
"PGDCA is computers, right?"

Amma enrolled for the course. Every Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning she used to have classes. Achan would go to drop her and pick her up.

She had class mates of all ages, she being the eldest.
"All are so much younger than me."
"So what?" Achan never found anything abnormal in that.

Then her exams started. She took a couple of days off from office to prepare. Achan used to get up earlier than usual and prepare food. Amma would be studying.

When we come back home in the evening, he would hush hush us.
"Shhhhh. Let her study. You put the TV volume down"
"Acha, let us have food. I am so hungry"
"Ask your Amma, if she is hungry"We would be still glued to TV.

Finally he would get up, slowly open the door of their bedroom and peek inside to find a just-about-to-cry Amma breaking her head over C++ and Java. He would come to me with a sad face.
"Neenu, can't you help your Amma? You have studied all these, right?"
"Errr, yup." I knew what a himalayan task it was.

First was her practical. I was damn sure she wouldn't pass. So I gave her a small chit with all the possible programs. Amma was reluctant initially. But I managed to convince her and even taught her how to cheat in the exam without being caught.

Achan got the shock of his life.
"Nooooooo. If she gets caught what a shame it will be"
"Acha, she will manage. You don't worry"
"I would still suggest No"

When it was time for her to start to the exam, he came to me, lowered his voice and saked
"Is she takng the chit?"
"Sure, she is"
"I don't know ... But let me tell you, it will be such a shame if she gets caught"
"Acha, plsssssssss, do you want her to pass or not?"
"No no. I want her to pass. But ... are you sure she can manage"
"Acha, you are impossible"
He could breathe his relief only after she came back and didn't say anything about being caught and chucked out of the exam hall.

It was her theory exams after that.
"Today is her exam, eh?"
"Yes Acha"
Achan would drop Amma and come back. He would check the clock every 5 minutes to se if it is time to go pick her up. FInally he would lose patience and start to fetch her back.

"I couldn't write much. I finished in 30 mins ahead of time."
"So what? I saw your colleague, that lady in blue sari, what is her name, anyway she was out in one hour"
"But her brother is a software engineer, She must have done well"
"What a joke, it is she who writes the exam not he"Achan always had HOPE. (Great hopes at times)

Then he used to recheck with me.
"Neenu, what did your Amma say about the exam?"
"She says it went well"
"So she will pass?"
"Well, I guess so"
He would give his 1000 watts smile.

After that it took Amma quite some time to be a PGDCA. Every time she would come home particularly gloomy on the day her results are announced. Achan wouldn't want to hurt her. So he would act as if he didn't understand what happened.

"Neenu, did her result come?"
"Yes"
“How is it?”Achan would ask.
“Better than I thought. She cleared 2 papers”
“Really???!!! Out of how many”
“Oh .. just 12”
“So just 10 more” Achan would give his relieved smile.
The story would repeat after 3 months. She would start studying for her next exams. Achan would take up the charge of the entire house. And still act as if everything were normal.

When she finally cleared all her papers, I was at Hyderabad. She called me up to inform the good news. I was so proud about her. I asked her to give the phone to Achan.

"Acha, so she finally made it"
"Yes dear"
I could see Achan smiling at the other end. He had reasons to be a proud husband.

just a quote

2006-05-24T23:20:00.000-07:00

“May you live all the days of your life”

Jonathan Swift
English Author

Makes sense, eh?

When it rains

2006-05-20T06:37:00.002-07:00

It is pouring back home…

What is it that I love about rains?
The smell of the soil after the first rain.

What I hate about rains?
I am scared of the thunder and the lightning. (But that adds to its beauty, right?)

Worst ever rain?
Amma was alone at home with my kid brother. All through the night it rained badly with lighting that struck the tree in front of our house. All she could do was to pray and she was taken care of. Thank God.

Best recollection?
If Achan is at home, he gets some roasted peanuts or chana and we wait for Amma to return. Then she makes tea. Then we all wait near the stair case and make small boats and float them in the water.

Johnai, share your memories. Baby, you too. Rafeeq & Daffodil, you are welcome too. And everyone who posts a comment has to answer these 4 questions. (That makes it 0 comments?)

Pra----- & Nair, you both can answer thru a comment ;)

Life is beautiful

2006-05-19T03:40:00.000-07:00

For the last 4 years I am out of home and go back only once in a while. Whenever I go home, Achan and Amma will have separate lists of complaints against each other. There will also be a flurry of activities.

Scene #1

I am sitting in the front with the newspaper and Achan comes there to water the plants with the hose.

“See this. All these plants are dying. Your Amma is mad. She gets all these from her stupid colleagues and it is my duty to water it”

I look up, give an acknowledging node and back to paper.

“The entire front yard is full of weed. She is not even bothered”

Achan goes inside and Amma comes out with the hose.

“See what your Achan has done. He has watered only those ones that he has got. He deliberately didn’t water this one since I got it”

I check the plant. There is some water. But can’t be sure if it was spilled over or deliberately watered.

Scene #2

Both Achan and Amma are in kitchen busy cooking different dishes for me and I am in the front room watching TV.

Achan sneaks out.

“Neenu, cabbage fry got burned”
“It is OK, Acha. We will take the top portion”
“No. Leave it, I will make again. You Amma didn’t put the stove off because I am making it”

I go to the kitchen to drink water.

“Do you see this? I told your Achan that I would make the cabbage. But he insisted he would make. Now he burnt it”

I smile. She is encouraged.

“Plus see what a mess he had made in the kitchen. If he helps, he makes sure that I have double the work”

Scene #3

It is 5.35 in the evening and Achan is at the gate restlessly looking into the road.

“Do you know why your Amma gets late? Because after work she wastes time talking to her stupid colleagues. You know the ones who talk about their new sari, earring or necklace”
“Acha, calm down. Why are you getting worried? She is late by only 5 minutes”
“You can tell that. You don’t know how weak she is as she is getting older. Can’t she come back and take some rest?”

We see Amma at the end of the road. Achan goes back to make tea.

Scene #4

Amma is making dinner. She has already made two curries and making one more.

“Why are taking the trouble? There are already these two. Aren’t you tired after work?”
“I am. But you know that your Achan doesn’t like fish fry. He isn’t eating properly these days. So I thought I’ll make fish curry”

Scene #5

After dinner we are sitting in the front to get some fresh air.

“Did you hear that Professor is building a second house at the back of their new house?” Amma asks.
“He has the money and has got only boys. No need to save or worry about money”
“But who is going to stay there? Both of their sons are in US”
“True. They can sell it after some time. Real estate prices are shooting up these days”

Conversation goes on …

Life is beautiful.

Nietzsche and Me

2006-05-17T06:49:00.000-07:00

~ This is completely different post; not at all entertaining. The incident mentioned here happened a month back. Last day I happened to read a small writing on Nietzsche. The below post is a combo of both. ~

Whenever I get a prize in the school or I score good marks, when I land a good job or get a word of appreciation, I would be beaming with pride. At home we are taught to be humble. So I try not to take the credit. That is an imbibed value which is sometimes interpreted as forced modesty.

But it is when I feel ridiculously ashamed of myself that my emotions are high. There is an adapted helplessness and indifference within me. And I abhor that.

The other day I was walking fast to get to the cab. There were hundreds of people walking faster than me. I was starting to cross the road when I heard a hullabaloo. There was a man lying on the road and he was making some violent spasmic convulsive gestures. Either he was hit and run or it was an attack of fits.

He lay down just behind me. People started crowding round him. I saw him and had this urge to help. But I kept walking ahead with my head turned back to see what was happening to him. I got on to the cab and left. I kept looking back till the buildings hid my view. Till that time no one had taken any effort to help the man. There were policemen. They might have taken charge of the situation after I left.

I am not bothered as to why people didn’t help him. After all, everyone’s sense of moral values and responsibilities are different.

I am ashamed and lost my self respect because I didn’t do anything to help that man. A human life had no value than a couple of gasps and sympathetic looks. God forbid, but if he hasn’t survived, I am guilty of my indifference. I take it when a close friend consoled me saying I have limitations being a woman. I would not have lifted him into a cab nor done all the running around in the hospital. But that doesn’t justify me being inert. The whole day I was upset thinking about that. But being upset or feeling guilty doesn’t vindicate me of my lethargy.

Friedrich Nietzsche talks about two types of morality. Master morality and slave morality. Master morality relates to good and bad while slave morality is about good and evil. Slave morality is not opposite to this. It is a different thought altogether.

I am not intellectually grown up to bisect Nietzsche. Neither have I read this particular book wherein he discusses his thoughts on this, though I have read another one. The book is Beyond Good and Evil. But I recollect a conversation with my brother who told me about Nietzsche and his school of thought.

Master morality arises in strong people who consider good as strength, power and right. This is kind of innate. Everything else is bad.

In contrast to that Evil morality arises in weak and suppressed people. They too have a sense of good; but bad is replaced by evil.

Though Nietzsche doesn’t exactly fit in here, I think that I belong to the second category. I am averse to anything that is evil. The problem with the second type is that, I feel, I tend to avoid whatever is evil. But I don’t have the strength to pursue the Good all the time. Beyond that, Evil is the extreme Bad. So my bad gets blurred between Good and Evil.

The bottom line is, whatever philosophy I borrow to confuse you and myself, I didn’t take the time or alertness to help a poor soul. But I have time to blog, worry about reservations and can be the first one to protest if my salary is to be dropped by even a rupee.

So I have the energy, time and all that I need as a human being. It is just that the values that I have inherited are getting lost as I move up in my life adding to my so called achievements. Despite writing this, I am not sure if I would take the initiative a second time. Hope to.

Amma..

2006-05-15T23:38:00.000-07:00

It was Mothers’ day. I didn’t even know of Valentines Day till I reached my 12th. Later on, as we moved to Kochi I learnt of more of those Archies brilliant marketing ideas – Mothers’ Day, Fathers’ Day, Rose Day, Friendship Day and what-not-day.

Just as each one of you out there, I have a lovely mom too. I call her Amma, like the majority of mallus. Amma had a very poor child hood. But she was exceptionally brilliant. At a time it was difficult to pass your SSLC(10th) exam, she has got a 2nd class.

During her school days, she didn’t have proper books or clothes. She didn’t even have proper food to eat. It was common for her to faint of fatigue on the road . She has come a long long way. Amma, never stops inspiring me.

She always wanted to learn as much as possible. But had to start working after her B Com. It was years later, after my graduation that this idea of learning further came to her mind. Achan was more enthusiastic. And she embarked on her journey to do PGDCA. We all declared all kind of support.

She got enrolled and was glad that on successful completion of her studies she would get the fee reimbursed from her office.

She had to go to office everyday. Her classes were on Saturday afternoon and Sunday. Finally she was through with all the classes and it was the exam time.

She had all of those C++, Java, Architecture, Software Engineering and what not. Me, being a computer science student was supposed to help her.

“You said if loop has to be closed. But there is one more if before the last one is closed”
“That is OK Amma, you have to close the corresponding ones.”

“Algorithm and program are the same???”
“No Amma, algorithm is just the logic. Program is when you convert it to the language”
“So program has no logic??”
“No No, it is same as algorithm. But when you write the same logic in C++, that becomes a program”
“Why can’t we write just algorithm”
“Because the computer can’t interpret it”
“Then why do we need algorithm”
Amma was looking at me all confused like a 5 year old kid.

“What is a pointer?”
“The address of the variable you are storing”
“Then where is the variable?”
I drew an arrow to the variable an explained her the concept with the best of my abilities.
“OK, so it the arrow, right?”
“Errrrr…yeah…….kind of”
Couldn’t say anything seeing the delight in her eyes that she cracked the meaning of a pointer.

It was supposed to be a one year program. At the yeard end she had to give practicals and theory papers.

Me and Amma sat through the night trying to make her add two numbers. Not of much use. She still didn’t get it why we need to declare the variable and then ask for the value and finally just add them. What are calculators for?

That morning I gave her a small chit with all the programs I thought they may ask. Amma was shocked. She couldn’t believe it. She had never done that in her entire life. She was the brightest student of her classes all the time, the darling of her professors.

“But I can’t read such small letters”
“OK, I’ll write it a little bigger; make sure the invigilator doesn’t notice”
“How do I take it from my bag when he is there?”
“Good Lord…. You can’t keep it in your bag. You will have to tuck it inside your saree on you stomach” I gave a pat on her protruding belly.
“What, I can’t do such things”
“It is absolutely fine. No one will see you. Just be confident. Once you take it out, keep under you keyboard”
“If it is under your keyboard how will I read it”

I took her to our computer and showed how to cheat effectively. We did some practice sessions. She was a good learner.

In the afternoon we were all waiting for her, eager to know if the programs I had written was of any help or not.

Achan went to her exam hall to pick her up. Me and brother were at the gate. Amma came back and sat on the sofa.

“What happened? How was the exam”
“OK” she said in a tired voice. I could see Achan and brother trying to cover their smiles. Amma looked at them and went inside with an innocent angry face.

“OK, tell me how was it”
I asked her pushing Achan and brother off the room.
“I couldn’t take the chit you gave”
“But why?”
“I just couldn’t do it”
“Then ….?”
I knew she didn’t know even the #include to write.
“The invigilator was a young guy. Must be of your age”
“Then…you would have taken it. He would have acted as if he didn’t see”
“He came to me and ..”
“Don’t tell me he threw you out for cheating”
“No, listen to me first. He asked me why I was sitting without doing anything since beginning”
“Then?”
“I said I couldn’t recollect anything”
“Fine … tell me what happened”
“He took my paper and gave me 50 out of 100”
We both sighed. She made it.

Next day she had her Java lab. The guy was a new one and wasn’t all that friendly. So she gave the exam two more times in the succeeding years and finally another good guy helped her out.

Every 6 month she used to give her back papers. On the day of the results, she would call me and tell. Achan and brother never dared to ask her at face. So on that gloomy day of result they would approach me.

“How is her result?”
Achan would ask.
“Better than I thought. She cleared 2 papers”
“Really???!!! Out of how many”
“Oh .. just 12”
“So just 10 more” Achan would give his relieved smile.
On the day of her next exam she would come back home and tell me.
“This was not like the last exam. I have written all that you taught me. I am sure I’ll get atleast 65”
Most of the time she would miss by 5 or 10 mark.

Finally she cleared all the papers and got her reimbursements after 3 years. I was in Hyderabad. I got goosebumps when she called me up and told she cleared all the papers.

I have reasons to be a proud daughter.

Kunjunni Kavithakal

2006-05-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

Vaayichchalum Valarum
Vaayichchillengilum Valarum
Vayichchal Vilayum
Vayichichiyyengil Valayum
(Achan’s favorite)

Enikkundoru Lokam
Ninakkundoru Lokam
Namukkilloru Lokam
(My favorite)

.........

2006-05-06T03:33:00.000-07:00

Neelakkuyile thirayadikkum
Nee maranjalum nin ganamengum
(Ramanan by CHangampuzha)

Irulin mahanidrayil ninnunarthi nee Niramulla jeevitha peeli thannu....
Adaruvan vayya nin hridayathil ninnenikkethu swargam vilichalum...
Uruki nin aathmaavin aazhangalil veenu pozhiyumbozhanente swargam
Ninnil aliyunnathe nithya sathyam....
(Don't know the author, but I love the lyrics)

the fascinating world of books

2006-05-04T03:02:00.000-07:00

Achan still feels guilty for not having sent us to any good English Medium School. He is still not convinced I can speak good English. Since my childhood he used to get The Hindu paper at home. He trusted that paper to be just and unbiased. Even now, his days start with The Hindu. He also hoped the paper to improve our language.

I still have a poor vocabulary and poorer pronounciation skills. My grammar is descent, I guess. My brother has got an admirable language. He can write damn too well.

We both studied in the Govt Schools. At that time, the school bus for the English medium school would come on the main road at 7 in the morning. It wasn’t easy for Amma to get us ready and take us to the bus stop at that time, as Achan might not be there all the mornings.

So reluctantly though, Amma and Achan agreed upon the local schools. I still thank them for that.

I don’t remember my homework books or heavy school bags
But I still remember all us kids walking to school
With those colorfull umbrellas during those rainy days
Sharing of pulinguru , Jathikka and ripe mangoes

Blessed am I that I had such a wonderful childhood… I am getting a lump in my throat thinking of those good old days.

Achan always admired great authors. I have never heard of Sidney Sheldon or John Gresham till I saw my roomie reading those during my MBA days. I have no disrespect to any of them. But I have a different taste. Rather my dad has. And he introduced us to the world of fascinating books.

He still has a small collection of books. One of the first great books I have read is The Mother by Maxim Gorky. I don’t know how many times I have read that book. But I bet I can still read it as many times. He used to get poetry books by all our great Malayalam poets. We used to byheart so many of them. I can still recite Vayalar poems. The best lines I remember are from Saphalamee Yathra by N N Kakkadu:-

Kaalaminiyum Varum
Vishu varaum Varsham Varum
Pinne oro ithalinum poo varum kaay varum
Appol Aarennum enthennum aarkariyam
Haa Saphalamee Yathra

How awe struck I was on reading those lines. And the best romantic lines in Malayalam poetry is from Balachandran Chullikkadu

Dukhamanengilum Ninnekkurichulla
Dukham entanantham aanenikomane
Ennumen paana pathram niraykkatte
Nin asannidhyam pakarunna vedana

At home, I still have a paper cutting on that poem wherein the poet describes the poignant story of a lovelorn fellow who inspired him to write the entire lines. I have cried reading those lines.

Achan has all the Vedas, The Bible and The Koran in his library. He always used to tell us
“Don’t criticize or take side of anything before you know what it is”. How true he was.

People used to come home for borrowing books from him. And he never said NO.

Even before I have heard of Love Story, Achan had bought us One Hundred Years of Solitude(by Marqez). I had an opportunity to read most of Vaikam Mohammad Basheer books. His small library has books cutting across all religions, international classics and the native collections.

I have read Freedom At Midnight and Osho books. We have Krishnamurthy and Brief History of Time in the same shelf, Fidel Castro and Bhagawath Gita kept next to next. We could read Bible and Karl Marx from the same collection.

I was never addicted to books. And my knowledge of them was restricted to Achan’s choices. But I must admit that his choice always were class apart. What a treasure you have given me my dear father.. Your zest for knowledge is the greatest legacy you have passed on to us.

But it was my brother who introduced me to Osho and Krishnamurthy books. He made Achan buy Siddhartha by (Hermane Hasse). He gave me Interpretation of Dreams.

After my school days, there was long pause till we all came back to books. Thanks to my dear brother, we added some more books to our collection.

You can all recollect your grandparent telling you stories in your childhood. But do any of you have a younger brother who still tells you stories before you go to sleep? I have. I also have a father who used to tell stories of great men and stories from great books than those Prince in the Shining Armor. I am a pampered spoilt brat. (Even from my younger brother).

Amma was a quieter lot, who could never understand why Achan would spend a good portion of his average salary on books.

The other day I have finished reading The City of Joy. I sent an e-mail to a couple of friends saying the books make an excellent reading. Thanks to the reply from Praseeth, for taking me back to those days.

As per his suggestion I am creating another blog for the books I have read. That will be updated very very rarely as I am still a lazy ass as far as pursuing of any hobby is concerned.

As a last word, thanks Pra-----. :-) You got me very nostalgic.

The life of a refugee ...

2006-04-07T05:29:00.000-07:00

Before starting to Mumbai, a friend told me that I should book well in advance; otherwise I wouldn’t even get the footpath to stay. Having not done that, now I regret.

Today I’m on my third exodus in 2 months time. Thanks to my local guardian, thornyrose, I always had some bed to rest my head on.

*Gasp* I would have taken that friend’s advice seriously.

Consider I had actually booked the footpath space

~ Dream ~

Tonight I would go to that place near the station. Proudly put my tent. I think first I should make acquaintance with my neighbors and assure that I am just a guest for 2 months. (Hopefully, a new all furnished flat with peanuts for rent and a charming guy for a neighbour is waiting for me to discover it. I strongly believe in miracles).

For tonight, I may be invited by one of those bighearted neighbors for dinner. Even if they don’t I’ll manage with some chaat or vada paav readily available on the street. Plus a coke and its bed time. I am taking some newspapers from office. I have enuf to make a two inch thick bed. And one of my duppattas can serve as a sheet. Wow … life is so adventurous.

In the morning I’ll start a little early to office. May be reach here early by 30 mins. We have a spacious ladies room here. Can take a luxurious bath and all other inevitables of morning time and be the first in office.

Tomorrow I’ll buy a kerosene stove. Two aluminum dishes, one Vim bar, one scrubber and one knife. I think 2 kg of rice will do for 1 week. One kg daal, 250 gms each of tomato, onion and one vegetable. Oops.. salt, coriander powder and chilli powder…

Mehnaath ki kamaayi, khar ka khana and apna khar ka aaram … I am getting goosebumps… I will live the life of a true Indian, among those true Indians. May be one of those Discovery Channel program will show an interview with me. – India and its thriving footpaths.

Man, I never thought it can be such a blessed life.

~ The End ~

~ Reality ~

Since that golden opportunity is gone and by the time I get a place in the footpath I’ll be in another city, in another office blogging about something else, let me tweak the case to fit into my current situation. Too many MBAs spoil the case. So I am not inviting thornyrose.

I think God has intentionally made me so tiny a creature so that I fit into every small place. I guess I can hide in one of these office shelves tonight. And after everyone leaves I may come out (provided I am not choked to death in which case tomorrow they will find me in my scariest dead self). That is a less expensive proposition.

All that I have to weigh now is if I want the comfort of my office Air Conditioning or I want the Discovery Interview fame … Such baffling alternatives ..... *Sigh again*

~ Interval. I got to think hard before office ends for the day ~

Eating away to glory …..

2006-03-31T22:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a holiday for the rest of Maharashtra. We still worked. We believe in (forced) hard work. The conservatives may frown upon our definition of work. But being in office for 8 hrs is a big burden in itself. In an office situated at the dead end of a less crowded street with all char bachon ke baap types male force and a dispensary for the 60+ people on the other floor, what incentives do two single and hunting girls have, even though we are the rare representatives of the female community in the office? Yup, there are some more people from that community. But they belong to the ladies sub-category. Not the young and happening gals category we represent.

Let us face it. Office is boring. The only thought that makes this less traumatic an experience is when I remember having slept during movies like Phir Bhi Dil Hein Hindusthani and Hero No 1. The very thought of those movies still makes me shiver with anger for having spent 60 Rs each at a time when my monthly pocket money wasn’t sufficient to buy even Pani Puri. I can eat, drink, sleep office but spare me of Govinda and David Dhawan. And I can throw the entire salary into the arabian sea. (I know our thornyrose will be at the other with open arms to catch it). But just can’t spend a single penny on those weird imitations of human species.

Our sole ray of hope, our God sent angel in this office is a decently tall, clean shaven guy in an all white dress with a cute thilak on his forehead. The moment we step in, we would be waiting for him. With our eyes fixed on the door through which he steps in, we would be counting milli seconds. Usually, he appears around 11.30.

Me: Kya hei bhayya aaj?

He: Aloo ke Parathe and Veg Biriyani

Me: Or Sweet mein?

He: Kheer

From then, we would be day dreaming about aloo ke parathe, veg biriyani and Kheer. We would be in a trance. The plates would be rolling round and round in front of our eyes. By that time the only consolations we had had would be the light break fast in the morning and sandwich at 10.30 soon after getting to office.

The longest of time of the day is the hours between 11.30 and 1.00. We check our mails as many times as humanly possible. Have tea 3 times. Go to the ladies’ room 2 times. Make phone calls 4 times. And it would still be 12.50. The rest 10 mins ………. my good lord ….. we only know how we manage to spend.

Tring Tring. My phone rings.

ThornyRose: Khana laga hoga kya?

Me: Ek nahi baje. Lets go chk.

Damn guy is punctual. He says he is getting it.

Tring Tring. Her phone rings.

Me: Ek baar phir dekhke?

TR: Chalo. Dekhthe hein.

Tring Tring. Pantry phone rings.

He: Madam, leke aa rahein hei.

We: Bookh se marne ke baad laoge kya?

The only thing on earth, that unite me and thornyrose is food. Food of all kind, race and sex. We devour it with the purest form of dedication. It is a pious activity. We don’t even talk during that sacrosanct act. And the precision in sharing things exactly by two cant not be beaten by any super computer.

All this slogging in the office, traveling in the local train and staying at unreachable distance from family, are all justified at that moment. Everything that men do is, after all, for a day’s food. (Whatever is left after that can be spent on clothes, accessories and make up). I am sure we will enter the Hall of Fame with Kris, Shukla and our very own Rafeeq.

There are very few occassions when thornyrose cooperates with me. One of such occasions is while placing our order for the day. (The other occasions are choosing between chicken and mutton and having mysore masala dosa at Phoenix mills). Whether it’s done by her or me, we choose different dishes so that we enjoy the entire gamut that day offers. And yes, she is ofcourse jealous of me. I eat I eat and I eat. She eats she eats and she would soon look like she had just swallowed a baby elephant.

After lunch we take a break till 4.00. A one hour tea break. Then dinner sharp at 9. (The snacks at 6.30 before going home is negligible, right?).

Next morning ….. here he comes ……. will catch you guys later ……….

Simply Besty

2006-03-13T02:16:00.000-08:00

What makes Betsy a real Betsy is that she is simply Betsy. Now if you ask me why, even after you knowing her for so long, I would be forced to conclude that you just read some article from ET that your head is spinning and you are seeing all those sensex charts and Tata Birlas going round and round.

May be ‘cos I don’t usually include her in my mailing list or ‘cos this doesn’t damage her hard earned reputation of Simply Being Betsy, she opened up this morning. We should appreciate her spirit. ‘cos confessions are hard to come by(except for the I lied to Mummy and I went for movie with D types John makes in the confession box, to the poor vegetarian priest :-))

I have all my sympathy. Its not the first time in human history that people mistake somebody else’s very personal possession to be theirs. That can be entirely unintentional at times. (Now you know the philosophy behind 3 Nokia chargers becoming 2 all of a sudden). That was all that happened. For that matter even I have noticed, my tooth brush was gullibly same to that of my moms at one point of time. When I bought it, it had that look of the ones they show in TV ads. The next week it looked like it went into an ever chewing cows mouth for 2 hours at a stretch. Between these two time fames, there were a day it looked just like a twin brother (or sister) of my mom's brush. It was sheer sense of inner strength that helped me in choosing the right one (whether it was mine or hers).

I know you hypocrites would make faces as if a silly mistake would attract capital punishment by IPC section ABC. But I whole heartedly understood her feelings when she told me between her sobs that hers and Reema’s has only one difference (whatever it is, the poor thing couldn’t even recollect). But as every other good girl she also brushed her teeth every morning. (I skip it these days ‘cos I think I kept my brush at Reshmi’s place. I will resume once I go to her place next week). Now it is upto you to blame her for being hygienic. Thing were going well till this morning when Reema woke up earlier than usual. Usually she is up only after we leave. Her boss knows that she always has appointments with clients in the morning so he expects her in office only in the afternoon. And today, for a change, she wanted to brush her teeth!!!!!!!!! She really wanted to!!!!!!!!!!

Now, after the enlightenment that the only brush in the bathroom is shared by those two lovely roomies (and three as per Betsy. I thought of joing in her misery than revealing I simply don’t use one) for the last one month or so, I am not sure if she did brush or not. They usually wear each other kurtas and T Shirts. So I don’t think that was a problem. But still, a toothbrush is a little too personal. People tend to get senti over such things.

The world out there is a cruel bloody world. They preach you the list of things to do that’s beyond the original call of nature and when you finally give in, they point their finger at you (no, not that finger). Now you know it is not her fault that she is Simply Betsy.