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Thursday, December 31, 2009

Last post of the year!

An end of the year post is due.And since I cant seem to think of one sensible topic to write about,I decided to simply follow my uncensored thought process and see where it leads me.
Last night,the hubby woke up and sleepily stared up at a monster brandishing a club which gave out sparks in the dark.Even worse the club seemed to be flying extremely close to his person.The man jumped out of his bed, yowling in fear and ran right out of the door,onto the street and all the way to Jamaica,screaming blue murder.:D

Ok..I’ll admit.He didnt.But the thought just popped into my head and was too funny to resist.And its in keeping with my new resolution to see something funny in everyday and if I dont find anything,I shall imagine something funny.But am telling you the man did wake up and see something that looked like a monster wielding a club.It just happened to be his crazy wife who was waving the electric mosquito bat (dont know if thats what its called but lets call it Sparky.Sounds much more friendlier considering the important role it plays in my life)and muttering curses at the danged mosquitoes which bother her every night.Honestly,there is something very satisfying when you manage to nab a mosquito with Sparky and it makes an exploding noise.Sounds like “SWAAAT!” and the mosquito fried.Aaah! I relish it.To any mosquito lover(nothing surprises me these days),it may seem quite callous of me to take pleasure in a poor tiny helpless mosquito (my big fat Foot!) dying a sad death by Sparky.I wont apologise.

By the way I made “Puttu” today for lunch.And it came out perfectly…Ooooooh…How exciting!…The sad part is that DH is not very fond of Puttu.Oh,he eats it,alright.But it doesnt make him excited.Its just “oh,puttu?Right” and not “oooooooooh,u made puttu?Clever wifey!Should get you some diamonds”. Huh!But am still quite proud of myself.It was good puttu.And …err..since I made a little extra,we are having it for dinner too. :-).Please pray that DH doesnt notice.Anyway,I have decided to consider it as one of my key acheivements of the year.And pizza I made last week was yet another one….And I made it from the scratch;the dough for the base,the sauce,every damn thing.The only thing I didnt do was grow my own veggies for it.Mushroom dum biriyani,puris,bread pudding,coriander rice,egg biriyani,cant remember the rest.But thats ok.There are some major ones like finally liking oats(can you hear my mom hooting? :s).And of course making curds…..!

I love curds…Not the messy kind which has lots of little yucky bits and pieces floating around in whey and makes you feel quite sorry for it.But the thick creamy white kind…which you can scoop up with a spoon and pretend that you are a mighty sea monster eating a tiny iceberg..mmmmmmm..ok…Lets not get carried away…but ….sigh…you got to admit that curds are yummy…and to those few people who refuse to eat curds for the reason that its white and they cant stand eating anything thats white in colour,I ask this.Err..you’d eat it if it was dung green?!!

One of the things I completely loved in US was the yoghurt in tubs you got to buy there.Considering we started our married life there,we soon got into the habit of having curds with almost every other meal.In terms of curds,that was the bestest period of my life.And so when we came back to India,we were sadly deprived of curds.Once in a while,the Goddess of Curds(has to be a goddes cos I dont think any God could make it :p) would smile upon us and we would chance upon a cup of Nestle curds at the nearby Reliance Fresh store.(I still dont know why they cant have it in stock more often instead of once in 4 months.Really!)And we would eat it reverently trying to make it last as long as we could.And so one fine day,as I lamented that the yummy stuff was almost gone ,the DH had a brainwave and said “Why dont you make curds?”.
Yeah ,right.Now lets clarify things a bit.He thought he had had a brainwave.I most certainly didnt think so considering I was the one who had to make it and if I knew how, I would have done so long ago and wouldnt be hanging around waiting for him to realise that making curds must be included under the “wifely duties” clause on the marriage contract.I hadnt even tried to make curds for the fear of ending up the with the messy kind of curds.I could have told him so but then how do u look the man in the eye while he stands there radiating pride at having come up with such a great idea based on the sole conviction that his super-wife can do anything?It takes thicker skin than mine to look at him then and say “Sorry,I havnt a clue”.So I told him rather lamely “But you need a little curds to begin with”.And DH exclaimed triumphantly “but …there are a couple of spoonfuls left in the Nestle cup!!”.
Damn! I knew I should have finished it up the previous night.Me: “Err…am not sure how to make curds”DH: “You dont know how to make curds??”Me: “No” .DH: “It should be easy”
Yeah,right! Then you make it.Glared at him.
Me:”Shall google”
DH recognised all danger signals and backed down.
DH:”Yeah.thats a good idea.You the best”Me: “Really?You think so?”( Melting into a big gooey puddle)DH: “Of course.”
And so I batted my eyelashes at him,asked mommy(very important),made curds and googled just to make sure there was nothing else I could do to ensure thick curds. :).And yeah,of course,the curds came out exactly the way I wanted it to.(Patting self on the back)Thick and creamy.What?You had doubts abt that? :-O

Apart from all that I cooked,lets see what else I acheived.We are talking strictly about personal life.To list my professional acheivments here would be quite pointless considering you know nothing about my project.Telling you that I automated SCL building would be equivalent to telling you I am trying to stand on my head.You wouldnt know why I bother, dont you think?Hmm…*-) .Coming back to my personal acheivements,I became a designer.(blushes).Of exactly what? Erm…lets just say “characters” for now.Am not ready yet to unveil that side of talented me.(And you dare not have any doubts about me being talented!) Maybe sometime later this year.Am working on an experiment.Not sure if I will succeed.But I think I can if I give it my best shot..And that probably is an important goal for 2010.Am going all out with this one and its scary when I stop to think about it.I rarely make resolutions at the beginning of a year.But for some reason,this year seems special.Cos am rediscovering a lot of things about me? Maybe.
And on that cryptic note,I wish you all (and myself, ofcourse!) a very very very happy,prosperous and exciting new year and may you all learn to love yourself.Cos if you dont love your mad nutty half brained self,then who will? Cheers,people and lets ring in the new year with a booty dance !!!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

To be or not to be?Sane,that is.

Its so much fun to be happy,isnt it?and so much nicer than being gloomy and worrying about mundane stuff like how your socks dont match your shoes and how xxx has lovely hair while ur own is falling out in clumps…:-)Am in a reflective mood…Can u tell?Maybe its cos of christmas……or maybe cos I just finished making a christmas gift for someone and it was a risk cos they may think its totally weird…or maybe cos the year is coming to an end.And looking back..when I tried to describe how 2009 has been,I couldnt.Dont know why…maybe cos I know I spent the better part of the year worrying…chuckle….who am I kidding…I spent the whole year worrying except maybe the last few days….

But thats ok..cos am not planning to go that way..I spent so much time worrying about things that I needed to do instead of actually doing them.Not anymore…I forgot the basic rule I lived by…Seeing the funny side in every situation…and remembering that life is too short for me to be worrying about the program code not working when am in the loo…that I need to sniff at a nice smelling “rubber” once in a way and mentally popping nasty people into white underwear patterned with bright red hearts and make a big time effort to be my loony old self…and that,my dear darling people,will be my resolution for the new year..In fact I have already started practising it so that I wud have perfected the art by the time we ring the new year in.
In the last 6 months the more I tried to be a sane balanced adult ,the more crazy life became…Or maybe my being sane was not conducive to surviving my crazy life .That makes sense…and honestly,I was so bloody bored with myself ….My life was no busier than it had been when I was truly being nuts but it was definitely boring-er…you know what I mean?.While trying to grow up ,I seemed to have forgotten a lot of little things that kept me happy and cheerful.For instance whenever I was sad,I wud look in the mirror and smile at myself…and I looked so funny trying to smile when I really was in no mood to,it wud invariably make me laugh and lighten up….silly but it worked…chuckle.

I spent some time going through the old posts on my external blog (I used to write a lot on that and rarely posted all that on Cog blog )and came across this.

” I recently read something on the internet and it made so much sense that am posting it here.

“We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren’t old enough and we’ll be more content when they are. After that we’re frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with.
We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, when we retire.
The truth is, there’s no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges.”

So true. There will never be a best car. There will never be a perfect spouse. There never will be perfect children. Life is rather simple and God only meant us to enjoy it. It’s we who make it complicated and a fight. Maybe if we all sat down and looked at a sunset, half the problems in the world wud be solved. Just imagine. Laden and Bush sharing a sunset together…Inspiring, isn’t it? Chuckle…. ”

Looks like I was more sensible in all my looniness than I thought.Where’s that mirror?and wud u have a nice smelling “rubber”?

Monday, November 30, 2009

Sunglasses and me.

I love sunglasses with a passion and always have ever since I saw some movie in which Hema malini (or some other hindi actress of the 80s) flaunts a pair of darkglasses with white frames.I know.Today white frames seem eeeeeeeeeek or retro depending on how u look at it but back then, my heart's deepest desire was to own a pair of dark glasses with white frames.And we are talking about when I was around 4 or 5 years old.And then like most desires that are born during our childhood,the yearning for dark glasses was buried under more practical prayers .You cant really bother God for dark glasses when you are busy trying to convince him that he should let you scrape through yesterday's exam.Its a matter of priorities,u see.But then the Almighty has always been kind to me.And no,in case you are wondering,I didnt get promoted in the last cycle.But am sure I will get it sometime soon.God's always been kind to me.And am a firm believer in all prayers being answered and some are rightfully answered with a No like the time I prayed for a coconut to fall on the client's head but was then glad it didnt cos he drove me home later that day.See?God does take care of you.And true to that,God did remember my prayer for a pair of dark glasses long after I had forgotten.


I was doing my Masters at Coimbatore and had suddenly developed raging headaches which left me exhausted.So when my folks came for a visit to coimbatore and found me sitting with my head in my hands,they were worried.However,my cousin hit upon the idea that I was wandering about in the blazing summer sun, scrunching my eyes up which caused the headaches.And so we set out to buy a pair of sunglasses.:D.And within a couple of hours,I was the proud owner of a pair of unbranded(if there is such a word) sunglasses which were supposed to be of export quality and cost a royal Rs 350.And somewhere in the land of forgotten memories,a 4 year old was jumping for joy.I was strictly told to wear my new glasses everytime I stepped out into the sun.Chuckle.Parents rarely realise what they subject their children to when they make them do whats good for them.


I sported short hair in those days;a boycut.And 99.999999 percent of the girls in college had hair which was atleast long enough to tie back in a ponytail.Not only was my hair too short for that,but for some unknown reason,the day I had it cut from its hip length glory to the comfortably light headed crop,my hair curled with a vengeance.And when you are taller than average women you naturally stand out but when you resemble a beanpole topped with a mop of curls, bunking classes becomes tuf cos even the most short sighted professor cant possibly mistake those wild curls flying around the corner.:-(And none of the professors in my department even wore glasses.And my folks expected me to walk into that campus everyday wearing sunglasses.Now if my department had been anywhere near the college gate,it wouldnt have been that bad.But then,like I said before,God has a sense of humour.Where else wud my department be but at the farthest corner of the campus.And when you have friends who do not let you "forget" what your folks told you to do,you either have a choice of admitting that you are too chicken to wear the sunglasses or you wear them and walk in with your head held high even though in your heart you may wish that your parents had got you a burkha instead.Dont get me wrong.I loved those glasses and wanted to wear them.And to this day am grateful to that friend who told me in a challenging tone "so wear them".And I wore them.I walked along one of the busiest parts of avinashi road,braving all stares while the wind as usual wreaked havoc on my carefully flattened hair turning it into a mass of madly waving curls. And then we reached college.And I do not exaggerate when I say people stopped and stared.Aaah!!!The attention!.Am telling you that you dont need to be a filmstar to feel like one.You can very well look like a weirdo and still feel like a filmstar.Those people may have looked at me and thought "poor girl,lost her marbles and so young!!" but I told myself that each one of them was jealous of my new glasses and wishing that they had the spunk to sport sunglasses.


I do realise that some people may have thought that I was suffering from "Madras eye" or sore eyes.And then the friend who told me "so wear them" did laugh his head off and say I looked like Karunanidhi.I did not !!! I had a head with thick curly hair and I bet the guy was jealous I could carry it off.I got subjected to a range of comments from "got guts" to "must be nuts"..And come 3:00 pm,we started on our walk back to hostel.And now students standing on the main road and chatting stopped to stare as well.Anyone who missed the morning show sure got in for the matinee.One loser actually had the cheek to step out in my path and ask with a grin "May I help you?".DUH!!!My cold stare had no effect whatsoever on him owing to the fact that he couldnt see my eyes.And so I gave him a sarcastic "No".I continued to wear those glasses for the remainder of college and loved every bit of attention I got.For some reason a girl wearing sun glasses attracts a lot more attention than a guy doing the same.I wonder why..chuckle....soon sunglasses became more of a habit and I was never in the sun without them and I got used to the attention.And I loved those glasses.They were perfect.
I had those glasses till about 2 years ago when I had gone for a trip to Florida.And thats where I lost them.Well,I didnt lose them.A dumb friend of mine who had put them "safely" in his bag while we went off to play in the water,lost them.And I was heartbroken.My dear dear first pair of darkglasses.Being financially independent by then,I got myself another pair,branded ones this time, about a year later but I still miss those glasses which are probably lying somewhere on the beaches of florida.And every pair I have tried on since then have always been mentally compared with those first ones and has never matched up to them.I have had 3 pairs since then,one which were flicked by hubby for his own;To be honest they looked way better on him than they did on me but he managed to lose them and then he was broken hearted.:D Another pair which was flicked by Customs(It disappeared from its case which was in my checked in luggage.How else do you explain that?) on my way back to India from US,and the last one which am still hanging onto and love though not with the same passion that I had for those first pair.I wear them whenever I step out into the sun and its funny to see people staring .What half of them dont seem to realise is that I can see them stare at me though they cant see my eyes.:D
Thank you ,Mama and Poppa.The fact that you bought that first pair for me was the main reason why they were so very special.But I guess u wud have figured that out by now.:D

Friday, November 27, 2009

The power of No!

Last thursday,I was in a meeting with my team lead(TL) and my manager(Apm) and the conversation went something like this.

TL: You have done more than we expected.Very good work indeed.
APM:Yeah
TL:In fact we have had no problems at all
APM: yeah yeah
TL:We know its very difficult without a backup resource.
APM:Yeah yeah
TL:You must train a resource as a backup for you so that he can handle all the work in your absence.This will be your goal for 2010.
Me thinks :My goal for entire 2010 is to train a backup resource?What kind of resource are they giving me???
APM: It will be a partial resource.
Me thinks: Halfbrained??
TL:Yeah
APM:But u cant use him
Me: eh??!!!
TL:Cos client wont agree to using anyone else.
Me thinks:So am getting a halfbrained resource whom I should train for the entire 2010 but not let the guy do any actual work???
Me:How abt a promotion?
TL:We cant say
APM:Yeah
TL:But market is picking up
APM:Yeah
TL:So depending upon company decision.We dont have any news abt it right now
APM:Yeah
Me thinks:Liars!!!

This Thursday,another meeting with the same folks.

TL:You said no to working on saturday
APM:Yeah,yeah.If we ask u have to work.
TL:You told me to tell onsite that u will not stay till 11 tonight as u have been asked to come in at 6 tomorrow morning.Why shud I tell it?
APM:You must do it.
Me:huh?
TL:Tell me .tell me why.I want to know.Tell me.WHY SHUD I TELL THEM?
Me:Well,cos everytime...
TL:TELL ME TELL ME ,MADAM.I WANT TO KNOW
Me:Yes,thats what am saying.The reason....
TL:TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME,I WANT TO KNOW
APM:This is very bad attitude.You are very inflexible and immature
Me :Cos I said No once?
TL:Tell me TELL ME..WHY SHUD I...
APM: ...irrespective of any personal needs,u must work if the project demands it...
Me:But I have always been available .I said No only this one time.
TL:Did we ever ask before?
Me:No.cos u didnt....
TL:TELL ME TELL ME.I WANT TO KNOW .TELL ME MADAM.
Me:......cos I was....
APM:Very bad
Me:... always available.
TL:TELL ME TELL,WHY SHUD I TELL ONSITE,TELL ME
Me:thats what am trying to....
TL:YES YES.TELL ME TELL ME.COME ON,TELL ME.
Me:I am trying to tell you.Please listen for a minute.
TL:We are wasting time going over it again and again.We are very flexible and mature and you shud also be flexible with us.In future we will expect us all to be flexible and mature.
Me:Ok
End of Meeting.

So within a week,from being a great resource I went to being an inflexible,unreliable,immature resource.And all cos I said No???Hmmm....Interesting....Some people cannot handle a No.:D
Moral of the story : People are entitled to their opinions,even stupid opinions.Does not mean that I have to agree with them just cos they are my superiors.But dont tell them you dont agree either.Just listen quietly and then go back to doing what you do.You may get a poor performance rating and no promotion.But frankly,after 5 years in this company,my priorities have changed.I get a decent pay which I intend to enjoy.Not wreck my life trying to earn more and more and more.
And to be honest,I did pop them both into white underwear patterned with red hearts and had to keep resisting an urge to giggle.Chuckle!!!

Friday, July 10, 2009

My keys are missing…


… and other stories from the nuthouse I call home.

Home is were the heart is.My client and lots of other ppl in US cudnt understand my insistence that I need to go home cos that’s where my heart is.To them it made sense that my heart was with the DH and if the DH came back to US,my heart wud be where I am and then I wud stick around till the end of eternity.Yeah….Portable hearts are the latest fad.They still believe that if DH had hung around ,I wud have stayed too….and most of them sent me off saying “Come back soon” and what broke my heart was the fact that they really meant it.Its a different matter that all of them wud be happily going abt with their lives now and no one wud really have much time to miss me.Its one of the things abt ur life in US.When someone is leaving,ur heart breaks;u are overcome by nostalgia;The very next day someone else wud be sitting in the same seat and in less than 2 hours u forget that a person who had been a dear friend has really left the country.I am yet to make up my mind abt whether it is a boon or a blessing.Its a different matter that I still miss some of them.But then that’s cos am a sentimental old fool.

Coming back to the point (and no,the point was not that am a fool),even when DH was beside me in US,there were times when I expressed a desperate wish to go home.More often than not,it wud be when I was neck deep in the lil puzzles life throw at us,floundering amidst the sea of bits and pieces which demanded that I put them together at top speed.At such dark moments,the one wish from the bottom of my heart has been to be back on my bed at home with my dog.I always claimed that if I cud just go home once,then I wud be able to handle it all.and I stick to my claim.Anyone reading this must by now have conjured up a picture of me sitting reverently at the feet of my sagely father and my wise mother,who are patiently giving out gyaan on solving the riddles of life,while the dog loudly proclaims to all and sundry who pass that way,that here is heaven on earth.Well,the dog is right.Not if u picture heaven to be a place with God sitting quietly on his throne while angels sing serenely around him.But then as Alice said,lets begin at the beginning.

I am still searching for the one word that wud describe my home.And I seriously suspect am gonna have to settle on cartoon.Today morning began with mama pouncing on me to wake me up,scaring the living daylights outta me and then when I sat up blinking, laughed saying “Buntu also reacted the same way”.Yeah,I’d like to see someone opening just one eye,peeking out and then beaming at her and jumping out of bed to shower her with rose petals.Really!And just when I had finally begun to sleep peacefully,dreaming abt my old friends back at onsite instead of the terror filled dark nightmares I kept having abt ppl chasing me when I was back in US.If its not mama,then it’s the dog,who has perfected the art of standing on her hind legs ,and pawing at me.No amount of rolling onto the other side of the bed helps.All u can do is pretend to be a human rolling pin and roll about from one side of the bed to the other until u are fully awake or until u fall off the bed,whichever comes first.And abt 30 minutes after u manage to wearily drag ur bones outta the bed,the dog curls up and goes to sleep,considering she has done all she can be expected to do to earn her keep.Any indignation on ur part is met by “I-am-only-a-dumb-dog.How-can-you-do-this-to-me” expression which she has managed to perfect.
I imagine it must have taken her ages in front of the dressing table mirror to do that.
She paws me everytime I eat or drink anything.Be it mealtimes or otherwise.And if I ignore her then she stares at me with the most indignant expression as though to say “U oaf.Dont u know mama said we must share everything cos we are sisters?Am entitled to an equal share of everything that goes into ur mouth irrespective of the difference in our sizes”.The pawing becomes more insistent if I keep ignoring her.She practically tries to dig a trench in my arm until I give up and share.And she doesn’t consider herself a mere dog who shud be grateful for any crumb that comes her way.No,siree,not her!For instance today morning she kept pawing me while I drank my coffee….For pete’s sake,dog,am only drinking coffee.So I took a slice of bread and offered it to her.She sniffed it,turned her head away,did an about turn and literally stalked away.And if u think it ends there,u are wrong.She stood 3 metres away looking at me and when I continued reading the paper,she came right back and put her head on my lap.Call me a sucker for those melting chocolate eyes but I offered her the bread again and this time she repeated the whole performance minus sniffing at the bread.We went thru the routine 4 times after which she wrote me off as one mean sister and decided to go see mama.The dog!!!
After drinking the coffee made by mama(she still makes the best coffee in the world after my aunt),I wud have just managed to con myself into believing that am gonna laze around and have a nice time chatting with mama and the dog when mama turns up like a whirlwind and demands that I bathe,or tidy up the table,or do her feet,or massage her head or something else.(My client thinks am a multitasking wonder.Now he knows I was trained from birth)Or she’ll comment on how the back of ur neck is black or that u don’t wash the behind of ur ears or that ur eyebrows look funny and how she wishes u wud do something abt it.If she doesn’t want u to do anything then she gives u a long list of instructions for the maid cos she is off to her painting class.And woe betide u if u forget any of it.She’ll remind u that u forgot it for the rest of ur living days.Half her sentences begin with “I told u to do this and u forgot”.Like Anup once told me when I accused him of the same,mama, u tell me so many things that I cant remember them all.And trust me,when I say that the maid doesn’t help one bit.Just when u are beaming in pride at having successfully remembered to tell her that she has to soak the rice for dosa batter in water,fry the fish,and cut the veggies,she manages to throw u off track by asking weird questions like “in hot water or cold water?Are u sure the fish is to be fried?Shud I fry all of it?What abt rice?Shud I make it or will mama make it?Can u ring up mama and ask?”
And if am stupid enuf to ring up mama and ask her that,well,here is the standard reply.”Don’t u know even this?Even though u are 27 years old?Thats what we do everyday”.Um…then why doesn’t the maid who has been here for more than a year know it?I personally find it safer to tell the maid, “Don’t fry all of the fish.Just fry the head and the tail.We can put the rest of it back in the sea.As for the rice,u can fry that too.Or we can eat it just as it is.Thats how I ate it in US.”And then when mama comes home,I hide under the bed.Good fun.

Did I mention that mama really was a unique baby?Apparently when she was born,she was wearing a chef’s hat, wielding a saucepan in one hand,holding a pen,a compass and a paint brush in the other and instead of wailing,she calmly recited the multiplication tables while the doctor gaped and my grandmother crowed in delight.I was born similarly minus the chef’s hat,saucepan,pen,compass,paintbrush and the gaping doctor.And instead of multiplication tables,I just wailed what was my version of Madonna’s first album.I’ll admit am a perennial disappointment and if u dare suggest it maybe cos mama forgot to swallow the requisite chef’s hat,saucepan,pen,compass,paintbrush and the book of multiplication tables while she was carrying me,on ur head be the consequences.

Normally when Buntu and I come home,mama spends an insane amount of time in the kitchen cooking and baking for us and is so tired out that we feel guilty.So in an effort to get her to relax and spend more time with us and also to keep those pounds off me,even before I left US,I asked mama to not spend all her time in the kitchen cooking for us.Yeah.So now she does not spend the whole day in the kitchen and cooks for maybe a couple of hrs a day.Did I get to spend time with her?Uh-um.Not exactly.When she isn’t cooking,she isn’t home.Yeah,she is off to her painting class with her painting buddies.Or she is on the fone talking to her painting buddies while buntu and I babysit the dog.Bunny also has the additional privilege of escorting her to the painting class and swears she is exacting payment for all the times she took him to school when he was kid.
When I was a kid and mama took me to school,she wud dress me up in a yolk yellow raincoat.I hated the plasticky feel of the thing.But nothing was worse than the cap which she wud button under my chin and in the process of fumbling at the button,pinch me several times under my chin.I always felt like a goose wearing a bonnet.Aw,sure looks cute but the poor goose must have been mighty uncomfortable.No one thinks of that.The cap kept my hair dry though raindrops wud trickle down my face and blur my eyes.I wud be carrying my lunch bag in one hand and the other wud be stuck in mama’s hand.All it took was one annoying rain drop to trickle down my nose and with no hands free to brush it off,I had to resort to rubbing my nose on the wet plastic on my forearms which led to more wet areas on my face.At 4 years of age,it was certainly one of the most trying times of my young life.Maybe I’ll take mama to her class one of these days when its raining and dress her up in a yellow raincoat.

And then there is pops who considers having his kids at home equivalent to having two personal assistants at his beck and call.He has a daughter who can be counted on to trot up and down the stairs to fetch him towels,hankies,socks and what not.All he has to do is call out and glasses of water magically appear when he needs them and honking at the gate repeatedly results in the gate opening by itself and closing as well….He can be in 2 places at the same time courtesy a son who looks exactly like him albeit a few years younger.Yesterday morning he announced that he has misplaced his keys which were apparently kept in a pouch.The dutiful son and daughter hunted in every single place,shook out newspapers and magazines,looked under every rock in sight and even shook the dog to make sure she hadn’t swallowed them.We checked the cars,under the seats and every single place we cud think of.Apparently it was a long pouch which was filled with keys and for the life of me I cudnt understand how it cud go missing.I checked and double checked all the likely places,looked under beds and cupboards,even lifted up mattresses.We searched for the pouch all day long.The long and short of it was that my dad had no clothes to wear cos the keys to his wardrobe were also in the pouch.

Today morning pops asked me to hunt for the duplicate key to his wardrobe in a drawer which had some old rusted keys.And then 2 seconds later I came across a bunch of keys which he usually carries everywhere.Apparently he had begun carrying them also in the same pouch with a bunch of other keys.But the pouch was still missing.As I stared at the keys my mom giggled over my shoulder that those were his keys.And to check,I inserted on in the wardrobe door and it turned easily.Relieved that dad wud atleast have clothes to wear,I opened the door and there ,right in front of my eyes,rested the missing pouch.I nearly exploded.Talk abt a wild goose chase.And as though it wasn’t funny enuf,my mom has this brilliant idea of hiding the pouch from pops…Just for the fun of it,u know.HUH!!!I woke up my brother to inform him that the keys had been found.He was wide awake in a second(poor kid must have been dreaming of the missing keys) and asked me where I found them.When I told him,he sighed,scratched his nose and rolled back to sleep.I havnt been home for the last 18 months but he has been here several times.Something tells me that this must not have been the first wild goose chase he had been set on.

Don’t get me wrong.I loved life in US but I preferred India.If u ask me why I left the comfort of US so that I cud be on the same side of the globe as this nut house,well,I dunno.Maybe cos this is where I really belong.Who wants to be sane when u can have an endless round of laughing,where everyday things as mundane as waking up are made memorable;Who wants the tameness of a planned lifestyle in US,with neat and smooth roads,marked into perfect squares make sure u never lose ur way home,when u can have the thrill of the impromptu;roundabout lanes which never end up where u think they will and life dishes out experiences that are rich and vibrant and never in muted shades?Or maybe its like my dog proclaimed; that here is heaven on earth.
Well,if u consider heaven to be a place where God is having a rollicking old time throwing water balloons at angels which explode and end up as rain in Kerala!!!

P.S.That reminds me.When we were kids,mama and my aunts claimed that rains were when God was flushing his toilet.At the rate it has been raining here for the past one week,I’d have to say God must have been suffering from an acute case of diarrhea.

P.S.S.A post which was written around the time I came back from India but was not posted for some reason which I cant remember now....so might as well post it.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

An angel in disguise !!!

For some reason I remembered and looked up this quote today.
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?” Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

As I read this quote today,I stood swallowing a lump that had formed in my throat and blinked back the sudden moistness in my eyes.Remembered what the DH had said abt me being worried abt my teammates all the time in the last 2 months.And admitted to myself that I had been playing small.Just so that there wont be trouble.But it doesnt help.It really doesnt.Its time I stopped being small so that others dont feel insecure.If someone does that their problem ,not mine.Its strange how a kind gesture from someone can ease you up and take out the knots in which you seem to have tied yourself up.But then coming back to what brought it all out.

I stood staring at the envelope.Felt its thickness,looked at the neatly handprinted address which confirmed that it hadnt accidentally landed in my mailbox like my neighbour's hollywood tickets had once landed.I had looked up the apartment and returned them and the lady was so happy that she almost cried

I had walked down to check the mailbox.I opened it and insided was the usual jumble of advertisement leaflets from the nearest supermarkets.I pulled them out,shook them to make sure no important mails were hidden in their folds and threw them away.Was about to pull out the next lot of leaflets,when beneath a plain white envelope,a pink envelope lay quietly.Am worse than any kid where colored paper is concerned.If u ever decided to kidnap me,the best way to lure me to u wud be to tie a scrap of pretty paper on a thread and dangle it in front of me...I decided before I pulled out the envelope that if it had a proper name on it,then I wud let it be but if it turned out to be an advertising gimmick then am gonna use it for some craft.

Of all the things I expected to be written on the envelope,the last thing was my own name.It wasnt my birthday.And I stood staring at the handwritten address.I mean I dont remember the last time I got any mail with my address handwritten on it.I thot of Anup,and dismissed the idea as soon as it came.There was no way the DH cud have managed to write the address that neatly.Not a chance.Why would anyone send me a card?And on top of it who wud?Hastily dismissing the bitter thoughts that seem to be my constant companions these last few days,I tried to focus on the envelope.I tore open the envelope and then noticed the sender's address on the back of the envelope which said "Me".I didnt pay attention to the rest of the address cos I was so shocked to find a card and even more,a neat handwritten letter inside the envelope.I dropped the rest of my mail in confusion and mumbled thanks to the guy who kindly picked them up for me,slammed shut the mail box,and walked back to my apartment,the curiosity killing me.I opened the door,dropped my groceries,and sat down on my bed,pulled out the card,my creative side automatically noting the layout of the card,the script and the color combo.

And read the words on the front of the card in sheer disbelief.With the words swimming in front of my eyes,I opened the card.I have received several cards in my life so far,but none of them had ever expressed so cleanly,with such simplicity the friendship I share with a girl I havnt ever met.R.What can I say???Am dumbstruck,choked up and speechless and right now u can knock me down with a feather.As I read the card a second time,I laughed.I shud have guessed.The message on the card was so simply put and yet so beautifully expressed.Much like the mails I get from her.Feeling like a kid,I fumbled thru the pages of the letter and sat down to read.....chuckle....Her handwritten letters are no different from her mails...Crackling,words tumbling over themselves and so complete.Reading her mails always gave me a sense of satisfaction.

What can I say except that am grateful.And as I put down the letter after reading it thru for a second time,I thot gratefully of the day when a certain guy mailed me and though am not in touch with him,he introduced me to someone he described as a "a fine girl" and who according to me is a fantastic girl and an angel in disguise.You rock,woman!!!

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Dear Bloggy

...Ages since I talked to u...or rather scribbled on u...But have been busy,u know.Been fighting a bloodless battle so that I can get back home..And all foes are slain or banished and I wear my battle scars with pride...By now ppl are so puzzled by my insistence that I wanna go back to India when they are giving me u-can-live-in-US-and-work-ur-fingers-to-the-bone chance,that I have stopped trying to explain why inspite of loving USA,I still love India a lil bit more...So these days when someone asks me "But why are u going back?" I reply "Oh,I just have this incredible craving for a bajji,u see".

Inspite of all the grumbling I do on a regular basis,I love my job and love being here.I do.I really really do...Though there are days and things that make me wanna pull out my hair,scream loudly,bare my teeth at the boss and screech in his ear.This is very tempting considering he sits right next to me and is one of my favorite fantasies when he insists on driving me up the wall.Imagining him fall off his chair in fright is even better and is a great stress buster.But then the one thing that really gets on my nerves and makes me extremely crabby is that oncall mobile fone.

The oncall support mobile fone is a black colored cellfone which the boss presented to us and is the one thing that really brings out the team spirit amongst the members of my team.Yes..all of us hate that fone with equal passion.I can literally feel my heart sink right down to the region of my knees when I hear it ring and am sure S and P hate it no less than I do.And at some point or the other all of us have contemplated the idea of throwing it as far as we can without dislocating an arm.But none of us has worked up the guts to do it.This phone has been given to us so that those miserable souls who insist on working the weekends and have no life whatsoever can contact us when they are in the mood to make our lives miserable.It is also for those blessed ppl, sitting on the other side of the globe,to contact us at an hr which wud be just noon for them but unfortunately for us is the dead of the night.

When its my turn to carry the oncall mob,am invariably woken up early on Saturday mornings.People just dont understand that Saturday mornings are sacred..Sometimes the calls are from ppl who need to get some work done and are rather apologetic abt it when they hear my sleepy tone.And maybe cos they are apologetic I rarely feel inclined to be cross with them.But then there are those unapologetic sadists who insist on calling people up at an unearthly hour on a saturday morning and are careless enuf to dial a number which is anything but the right number and to top it all,is my oncall phone number..Owing to the number of callers who insist on speaking spanish and cannot understand the simple words "wrong number",am somtimes left with no choice but to hang up on them. I have had a guy ring me up 3 times continuously to find out that he had the wrong number.The third time I hung up on him and the fourth time I didnt answer the call.Then we get calls from a number which plays an automated message telling us that our auto insurance is expiring and that we are to press 2 if we dont want to be called again.Am telling u I have tried pressing all the numbers from 1 to 9 and we still get calls from them.
But my favorite wud have to be the lady who woke me up at 6 in the morning and said "Lola?"
Now am rather used to lotsa ppl telling me "Hola" and even if I havnt picked up a lot of spanish I do know that Hola means Hello.So I assumed that she must have said "Hola" and politely said "Excuse me?".I was trying to make her realise that I needed her to speak English.She repeated "Lola" and even though I heard it as Lola,I thot she must be saying Hola...and repeated "Excuse me" a bit more loudly.But when she said "Lola/Hola" for the third time,I lost it.And crossly demanded "Do you speak English?"
Pat came the reply "Yes,I do"
Though I was taken aback for a second,I took a deep breath and said "Ok.Tell me".
And she asked "Can I speak to Lola?"
"No.You cant.But u can talk to Laloo.Just wait a minute while I get him out of the loo".
Ok...I didnt tell her that.So dont faint,mama.


to be continued!!!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Creating memories

Its funny how certain things can trigger memories of totally unrelated incidents….Am sitting with a wobbling mountain of work behind me.Yeah…Its behind me cos I have turned my back on it to write this post…and hopefully until I finish this post,it wont collapse on my head…..I reached home and logged back in to work and told S to go home.And as usual the considerate chap asked me if I was sure and if I wanted he cud stay back for another 45 min.I told him to go home and take his wife out for a candlelight dinner.And for once the man decided to do that…Not cos the romantic part of his brain hidden by that huge dust bunny had woken up.But for the plain and simple reason that “I am damn hungry.I’ll take her out somewhere”…Yeah…that’s right.I cant think of a better reason…Before I cud tell him to make it a surprise for her,the danged man had gone….and I was left thinking how much more fun it wud have been for her if he had rung her up and told her to get ready in ten min cos he was taking her out to dinner…The sheer excitement of the impromptu outing wud have made the gal so happy……But who can reason with a hungry man?

For some reason the incident took me back to my childhood,when every once in a while out of the blue,when we wud least expect it,Mama wud answer the fone,talk for a minute,hang up and then tell us “Get ready.We are going out”.As Bun and I grew up,at times we wud ask “Where are we going?” and the answer wud be “Just like that.For a drive”.And that wud be it…All of us wud get dressed in 20 min and by then Pops wud be home and we wud lock up the house and go out….It was either dinner at one of our favorite restaurants,or a visit to Mama’s uncles who lived nearby or best of all,a drive to the beach,ending with the car parked outside a restaurant called Mama’s and Pappa’s which served cutlets with no salt.When I was small I read a story about 2 brothers and a magic mill and how the mill ended up in the sea grinding salt non stop.Apparently that’s why the sea is salt.And I used to think that’s why the folks at the restaurant didn’t put salt in their cutlets.Cos there was salt in abundance to be had in the sea.Yeah.I told u I was loony.And if u still don’t believe me then ask my mom who reads each post of mine and goes,”Yer loony,Anupama”.Which when translated into plain English means “Decent post,Anupama”.If she says “Ugh,Anupama”,then that means “U call that a post???”.Its mama-talk.And each mama has her own special language which only probably her kids understand.

Sometimes we would go to another restaurant called Woodlands also facing the beach.I loved this restaurant cos it had a lawn with a swing painted blue.Most of the time my parents preferred to eat in the car.But once in a while we would sit out on the lawn.After dark,the area would be spotted with dim lights shining through dusty lamps.It wud be quieter too.Sitting in the car,peering thru the dark,waiting for the server to bring our masala dosas,listening to the sea and my parents talking with the cool salty breeze blowing around,is one of my coziest memories.Right outside the restaurant were a string of ice cream parlours.Some were fancier than others but our favorite was a small shop,named Snoosh which belonged to one of Mama’s friends.To this day I think the ice creams in Snoosh tasted the best…

Once in a while dad wud have to go back to office to pick up a file or something and that wud be a good excuse for all of us to go on a drive. We wudnt even bother to dress up and wud pile into the car looking like a bunch of ragamuffins and more often than not,stop to pick up a icecream cone on the way back home.Sometimes the dog also came along for the ride.There was a time when power cuts became scheduled in our locality.When the summer heat made sitting at home during these cuts intolerable we took it as an opportunity to go on a drive.Exactly 5 minutes before the cut off,we wud rush around the house locking doors and pile into the car.For some reason it seemed absolutely imperative that we get on the road before the current went.Lol….Yeah…we did go on a drive every single day for a week.I bet it was my Mama’s idea.She is the one who generally has such nice (and um..loony) ideas.Most times we trotted up to the terrace.And then there was the time when we decided the best thing to do during a power cut was to clamber up the scary ladder from the terrace to the top of the house and lie flat on the warm roof and look up at a star studded sky.The cool breeze blowing,the warmth of the roof beneath me, my parents voices and the stars …That was when time seemed to stop…peace and quiet and darkness….exactly when the half hour scheduled for the power cut wud get over and the lights wud come blazing on like a blaring foghorn.Uffff!!!Those were one of the times I wished that the power had stayed off….I had often wanted to sleep up there and am sure we cud have done it…but we cudnt have got any bedding up there with that crazy ladder.Getting up that ladder was quite easy.It was getting down the damn thing that gave me clammy hands and feet.

I am not sure if my mom and dad realized it then.But they were creating memories with all those lil things that we did together.Makes me appreciate the fact that it’s the lil things we do,the times we grab out and hold on to the moment now,without a care abt tomorrows to come,that stay with us thru and thru.And maybe that’s why ,when Anup and I went out on all those crazy impulsive outings ,(That deserves another long post),I’d ask Anup,”You know what we are doing now?”and he wud smilingly ask,”What?”.
“Creating memories”.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Bear with me!!!

Good news first.Am still alive.And yes,that is good news.(Nods firmly)Its practically ages since I wrote a post.But honestly its not for lack of trying.I have on several occasions found myself staring at a blank screen with an equally blank brain,willing myself with my whole heart to write ….Ok ok…so lets say blank mind instead of brain since I can hear the protests all the way here. Won’t even let a person lay claim to a brain, and a fictitious one at that, will y’all? Ok…So finally I decided that I am suffering from a block…well,not necessarily a writer’s block since I really don’t fall into that category.But some kinda block and we are definitely not talking abt constipation here,ppl.So don’t dare suggest it.(U think somebody being constipated is funny?).Btw has anybody ever wondered why when ur intestine is blocked,u are said to be constipated but when ur nose is blocked,ur bathroom drain is blocked,or any other blockage for that matter is still referred to as a block?I mean why does a writer have to suffer from a writer’s block;why not writer’s constipation?So many crafters refer to suffering a creative block when they find their creative juices seem to have dried up but nobody calls it creative constipation. Why?Hmm…I think Amitabh Bacchan was right when he referred to English being a “pbhunny” language.I totally agree with u,AB.Btw totally off the topic,I think u are a lot like wine.U just got better as u aged.Really.I think I love u more now than I did 20 years back.U are absolutely gorgeous.Well…not as much as the man I married but then I guess u’ll have to live with that.

So today the whole point is abt getting around that block and the only way I can think of doing it is by writing or rather jabbering away abt a bunch of totally unrelated ,uninteresting things which keep flitting through my head at any given time. There is this other side effect to this block.I find myself unable to tap out mails to ppl….All those long mails that I used to tap out ..Poof!!!gone..Revs.Now u know why u seem to be getting no mails from me these days.Am constipated.Hopefully after this forced post,maybe things will take a turn for the better.
Anup and I celebrated our respective birthdays this year.Yeah.On 2 sides of the globe..and things were quite confusing with all the time difference.But Anup is working the night shift this week.Which means we have some real good fun mailing each other all through the day.Well,my day and his night. J In fact am writing now cos he has strictly told me that am supposed to write a post in the next one hr and send it to him.He insists on keeping the madness in me unleashed.Sigh.I’ll never make it to the sane squirrels club in this lifetime.

And so what have I been upto all this time?I read;I crocheted;I painted;And yeah,I forgot.I got myself a nice new roomie who practically lives upto the description “Girls are made up of sugar and spice and all things nice”….Yeah.I finally got over that man leaving me alone and going away though some side effects still last.Anyway,my new roomie is an amazingly nice kid who doesn’t mind cooking, minds her business, so far has not protested to me jabbering away at her endlessly, has adopted my obsession of endlessly smoothing the bedspread for her own to the extent that I have stopped smoothing the bed cos there’s nary a wrinkle on it at any given time and is obsessed with her cellfone.That’s one thing I cant figure out.She really really loves that object.In fact I think she wud be the greatest fan of the Bell guy. Alexander Graham Bell.But considering that she doesn’t mind having a roomie who is obsessed with wrinkle free beds, yarn, crochet hooks, beads, dolls, paints, colors and what not, I am not complaining. But honestly she is an adorably nice female and I wud be really sorry to see her go.In fact she looks like a nice round plump little gnome …And she totally understands why I craft.Oh bless her buttons and shiny boots!!!And u know what,she got me a cake and a gift for my birthday.Nice gal,na?

I simply can’t understand why ppl don’t like showing their teeth if they have ‘em. I mean if they are ur own and if u haven’t stolen them from anyone and they are an extremely nice looking set,then why not show them when u get a snap taken?After all someday when u don’t have them anymore,u can always look at the snaps and tell ur grandchildren nostalgically, “In those days we had good strong teeth.See mine here”. Now if u insist on taking every single snap keeping ur lips pursed together, then God forbid, someday ur grandchildren are gonna look at ur snaps and say “Oh, look,they didn’t have teeth even in those days”.Now u know why I insist on baring my teeth at any one who takes my snap.

I have started painting again…and managed to paint 2 pictures in the last ten days….The first one turned out to be quite Ugh..The second one so far seems ok but the more I look at it the less I like it….and when I told her this, my roomie asked me to stop staring at it so much cos she thinks its an awesome painting.See,I told u she is nice.
And am planning on learning tennis.Atleast I have found one unsuspecting guy who is willing to coach me.Since he doesn’t know what kinda dud I am,he is still quite enthusiastic abt it.

Btw did I mention its spring?Its the best part of the year as far as am concerned.Just walking to office in the morning is a treat…The flowers are out,the bees are buzzing,the sun shines,the wind blows,the grass cudnt be greener,the bare boughs are tinged with green,birds are chirping….Sigh….Reminds me of the saying.
God is in his heaven and all is right with the world.

P.S. As for my constipation,well,lets see if I can write another post.

Monday, February 23, 2009

A Valentine's day tale

On Valentine’s day I walked into the office to spend an evening with my boss and teammate surrounded by blazing lights, staring soulfully at a LCD monitor late into the night.I had bought myself a sandwich for dinner since it wud be late by the time I got home.The one thing that cheered me up was that my better half had sent me a beautiful bunch of flowers the previous night along with a love note.He had intended to have them delivered on Saturday morning but I reached home late on Friday night to find the long box outside my door.Anup was quite cross that they had been delivered early but I kinda understood that the delivery guy had tried to deliver it as close to Saturday as possible and to drive the point home,had stuck a dozen neon stickers on the box,proclaiming “Saturday” in bold black letters.I suppose the delivery guy thot that he cud brainwash me into believing it was Saturday.

Anyway I was munching on a sandwich when my teammate,Sai,walked in with a big bag and set it on my table.
Sai: Your dinner.
Me: (Surprised) What abt urs?”
Sai: I ate.I got that for u.My wife made Biriyani.
Me: But I bot a sandwich.
Sai: Never mind.Take it home and eat it when u want.
Me: Thanks ,Sai.

Silence.

Me: Sai? Anup sent me flowers.
Sai: Anup sent u flowers?How?He is in India ,right?

For a rather nice guy,sometimes Sai behaves like he has a cabbage for a brain.

Me: Sai!!!He ordered it over the internet.
Sai: Oh,he ordered it over the internet?ok.
Me: What did u do?
Sai: Praveena gave me a perfume.
Me: Ok.But what did u give Praveena?(Praveena is his wife)
Sai: (a bit desperately) Praveena gave me a perfume.
Me: Sai,what did u give her?

I had been reminding this guy every day for the past 2 weeks to get his wife something

Sai: You know what?Am going for a smoke.
Me: Sai!!!
Sai: We’ll talk abt it later.

Runs away.

Me: The rogue.

Sai comes back and we work some more.The boss walks in.

Boss: (looking at the sandwich bag and Sai’s bag on my table)You bot dinner?
Me: Well,I bot a sandwich and Sai also got me dinner.

Boss holds up his right hand with 2 sandwich bags in it.Apparently,the kind man had gotten himself and me sandwiches for dinner.

Me: Oh dear.
Boss: He he…

Silence.

Me: Krishna,Anup sent me flowers.
Boss: Wow!!He sent it by mail order?
Me: Yes.
Boss: What flowers?
Me: Tulips.30 tulips.
Boss: Wow.

Pause.

Boss: I also got a gift.My wife gave me a gift.
Me: What did you get?
Boss: ( puffs himself up with pride and quite sentimentally) I got one rose and a perfume.1 single rose.
Me: And what did you give in return?
Boss: Nothing.
Me: (Outraged)Nothing?Huh!!!Both u guys are complete nincompoops.Didnt give anything.Sai also didn’t
give Praveena anything.
Sai: I got a perfume.
Boss: I also got a perfume.
Sai: You also got a perfume?
Boss: I got a perfume and 1 rose.
Sai: I also got one rose.Just one
Boss: Yeah.What perfume did you get.
Sai: Curve
Boss: (frowning) I also got curve.
Me : (Gasping with laughter at their crestfallen expressions) : Oh,I just remembered your wives always go
out shopping together ,don’t they?They probably found a deal on Curve.Buy one ,get one free.
(falls off the chair)
Boss: (grumpily) Humph !!!
Sai: (looking outraged) Wait till I get home.

Valentine’s day.Spent at office.2 men got me dinner.Lots of laughter.And a warm fuzzy feeling inside at the thot of those flowers a lovely man sent me...Not bad.Not bad at all.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Today(For lack of a better title)

Last week,the climate was perfect and for no darned reason,I found myself waking up one nice bright morning with a sore throat.I immediately treated it with a salt water gargle.But in spite of the gargle,by midday I found myself feeling feverish and my voice disappeared rather rapidly leaving me resembling a gaping gold fish.The sniffles weren’t far behind and before I knew it ,the rhinovirus was threatening to wreak havoc on my sinuses and bronchial tubes.Hah!!But I wasn’t abt to give up so easily and bombarded it with horrible concoctions of garlic,ginger,pepper,mint leaves and lemon( and I must admit the witch’s brew has kinda grown on me) and a few scalding sessions of gargling with salt water.I diligently fed myself capsules of Vitamin C to keep the immune system up and buzzing.It took a good 3 days. I worked from home for 2 out of those 3 days in spite of the boss’s protests.(He had to make a choice between me working alone from home or me and the virus working together at office.)But the witch’s brew,it worked..And the rhinovirus was booted right out.And as a bonus I got in some good amount of crafting in the time which wud otherwise have been spent in office staring at the system waiting for some loser to send me some work.Advantages of working from home,u see.

Today I walked in the rain.Or lets put it this way.I got out of a nice hot bath to find that it had started raining and I was left with the dreary prospect of walking in the rain,reaching office all wet and cold and then having to spend a long day at office ending with sniffles and a fever.Considering I had just abt managed to chase away that rhinovirus which came around knocking last week ,I was in no mood for another bout.I dressed,pondered the idea of looking thru my suitcases to find that umbrella which am not sure if I left in India on my last trip there,gave it up as a waste of time and energy,pulled on a ski cap and a fleece jacket and walked out.I stood for a second at the threshold and wondered for an instant if I shud ring up the boss and ask to work from home.But then the thought of that nice-but-at times-tiresome man giving me that same monologue abt how the Directors of the company don’t like anyone to work from home was enuf to scrap the thot.Yeah. Right.As if any director is even gonna realize that poor me is missing from my seat.
But then as I stood looking at the miserable climate,there came a wicked thot…So I walk in the rain…So I fall sick….So I end up working from home…So the boss complains…So…maybe…just maybe they’ll send me back home…And I grinned gleefully as I trotted out into the rain,stood for 20 min under a dripping tree which started out as a dry spot but started getting wetter and wetter as I waited for the bus, trotted all the way to office and nodded happily at everyone who asked me “Got drenched?”.
And now here I am a good 5 hrs later.Dry as a bone.Not even the sniff of a sniffle…and the darned rhinovirus is nowhere to be seen when needed…God does have a sense of humour!
But truth be told,once I got over the worry of falling sick,I rather enjoyed the trot in rain. :-)

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Broken toys

As children bring their broken toys, with tears, for me to mendI brought my broken dreams to God because he was my friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him in peace to work alone I hung around and tried to help . . . with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried, "How can You be so slow?""My child," He said. "What could I do? You never did let go."

Beautiful,isnt it?
I have a lot of broken toys right now...A dear dear friend in the hospital after an accident...a lovely lady mad at me....a dream which threatens to vanishwith a puff....and a tired spirit...I dont know how to fix them all ..But am tired...and I cant fix things anymore....I just want to sleep...Maybe I shud just let go.Like an old lady said "When you feel you cant go on anymore,you just let go and let the angel carry your troubles awhile.It will be ok".

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

A silver thread in a black cloud

Yday morning ,my mind already far ahead in office listing out the things I had to finish,I finished plaiting my hair and swung the plait to my back when suddenly a suspicious glint caught my eye.I pulled the plait to the front again and examined it with suspicious eyes…and there,right below my nose…it was…that silver hair nestled in midst of all that black.Sigh.My first instinct was to untie the plait,pluck the glinting strand off and do up my hair again but honestly if I was serious abt getting to office anytime before lunch I had to get a move on.
I am getting old.I mean there was a time when I wud surreptiously pluck out that single white strand which insisted on growing right at the top of my head,standing straight up and waving abt like a lone daisy in a field.Yeah!Some daisy.My first grey hair turned up at that same spot abt 2 yrs ago when I had just reached US and my mom promptly decided to go in for surgery,ended up in ICU and scared the living daylights out of me.I was 25 then.Only 25 and a grey hair right at the top of my head!!!Really...am telling u,its those naughty parents of mine.They like to give me a missed call at odd hrs once in a while just to have me hopping around in panic.Sometimes I think its their way of getting back at me cos I left them to go to the US.Though I dont see what they have to complain considering I fled the country to escape marriage and then fell in love and ultimately did get married.My parents keep telling me that am responsible for the several grey strands in their respective once black heads.But I bet I didn’t give them any until they were well past 35.That is a good age to start looking dignified.
I still remember the panic I felt when I found it sticking up there and carefully plucked it out.And then some days later it turned up there again…I must have plucked it out 2-3 times in the past 2 years.But this latest silver thread in the black cloud turned up in a new spot.And I’ll admit am fighting a losing battle.I’m resigned to possibility if having my 5 year old(if and when I have one) refuse to call me Mama and insist on calling me Grammy.Great…Well.As long as Anup doesn’t call me Anu Aunty when I reach India

Monday, January 19, 2009

Am not pregnant but....

Oooooooh!!!I have a secret…and am dying to tell u folks abt it..In fact am dying to scream it aloud from the tallest rooftop I can find or a tree if I can climb it without stopping every five minutes to clap my hands…but I cant cos I have sworn that I will keep it a secret for another 3 days…Oh dear dear dear lord..How am I gonna keep it inside without it leaking out….Now don’t get me wrong…am not one of those females who cant keep a secret even to save their lives…In fact am pretty good at keeping secrets but this one is such a happy one that I simply cant contain myself…I feel like I have drunk a bottle of bubble bath liquid and the bubbles keep threatening to come out of my nose and ears and mouth and am having a tuf time keeping it all in…..oooooooooh….am soooooo happy,ppl..but I just cant tell…am sworn to silence for the next 3 days…oh dear dear dear lord…I cud dance for joy…have been sitting for the last one hr grinning at the screen until my cheeks have started aching…and when I walk,I keep finding myself hopping and skipping for joy in spite of the poor knees..and when I went to the restroom and looked at the mirror…..ooooh….I cudnt help but grin at myself and clap my hands to let out some of the happiness that threatened to make me burst..and um…and then in walked the director of the client company..and um…there was an awkward silence…while she stood staring in the mirror at the reflection of a girl who was frozen in mid grin with hands clasped under her chin …um….but even that cudnt quench the bubbles…but then am babbling…But seriously ,ladies and gentlemen…lets break out the champagne and dance with abandon cos am the happiest woman on earth…..If u happen to see a squirrel staggering abt with a champagne bottle,trying to do a jig, do stop to say helloooo,Anu….Oh I wish I cud tell u…ok…just 3 days and then I shall spill the beanies…I promise…
Next bean on the list,its my first wedding anniversary…um…Anup’s too…he he..and we both are celebrating it in solitude sitting on opposite sides of the globe.I know…U can congratulate me and extend ur heartfelt condolences…And though I keep telling everyone that there will be more anniversaries,I must confess that the first one is rather special and comes just once in a lifetime..and am missing out on one of the once in a lifetime events…but really am so happy that it really doesn’t matter…Though I wish Anup was happier....But considering that we wont be together for the valentines day and our birthdays as well,its no wonder he isnt too happy…sigh..But that’s ok…the squirrel is still doing a tap dance and belting out “If u’r happy and u know it clap ur hands, if u’r happy and u know it and u really want to show it,if u’r happy and u know it clap ur hands…clap clap clap”.

Its strange how u want something very badly and then when suddenly u are faced with the probability that u may not get it but a loved one may,u wud rather that ur loved one got it than u.Ok..so u may have to read that twice.But really,it never ceases to amaze me how much more happier I am when someone I love gets that very thing which I wanted so badly… I wudnt be half as happy if I had got it myself…chuckle…crazy thing but I guess its one of life’s greatest blessings…Am blessed to have parents,a bro and a DH I wud give up the world for.Love u,ppl..U are the bestestest of the bunch.

Got lots of work..so got to go..and before I go,I have a feeling I ought to explain the title…Its just that every time a married woman says she has a secret or she is extremely happy or every time she is sick ,ppl jump to the conclusion that she is pregnant.And I most certainly am not.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Of runaway husbands,desolate squirrels and British accents

In order to forget that that tall looming figure I had got used to
seeing lurking
around the house,who turned out to be
reassuring when I had doubts abt my creations or
the better
of my crazy ideas and more so put up with me,ragged me,
teased me and drove
me up the wall at times has really finally
left me.He has finally run away from me and
fled the country...
swearing never to step foot on this land again..
Ok.So thats an
exaggeration.He has gone back to India cos
his visa expired and I will be joining him
....well..hopefully
sometime soon...which is God knows when...which is ..sigh...
I dont
know what...However,he will be waiting for me in India
like Romeo waited for
Juliet...um...actually I dont think he will
be hanging around like Romeo
did...Really..I mean Romeo
honestly was quite jobless if u think abt it except to sing

ballads and serenade and kind of swagger around below
Juliet's balconey beating his
chest.Really...What woman
wants a man who wanders abt beating his
chest????....
Really..am sure Juliet wud have rather had him do
something worthwhile
even as he loved her...u know what
I mean?But then am digressing from the topic and
maybe
making Shakey spin in his grave..So lets leave that and
come back to my life.
(Yeah..I know..But this happens to be
my blog and if I want to write abt my life I
very much shall
including the minutest details of how I ...err...scratch my
back..and
if u dont want to read it...well..trust me,u dont
know what u will be missing.Poor
u)...

Anyway coming back to sending DH off,well,I managed
not to make an idiot of
myself;read I did not cry before
or after his going,smiled rather bravely and sounded

quite normal...Now all I have to do is put up with another
day of every single soul
asking me "Anup left?" when
they very well know he did,that he wud not have missed an

international flight to stay with me,that even if he wud have
he cudnt cos his visa
had expired.But since all those
souls mean it kindly and really are showing their

concern for my sudden single status,it wud be mean of me
to snap at them and say
"Nah,he is sitting right behind u".
Dontcha think?

Its really not as bad as I thot it wud be.Well..as long as
I dont dwell on it..Its
just the first 4 days..U know.All I have
to do is to keep it all in,not think and keep
distracting my thots
which honestly is quite irritating..I mean its like u are talking

to urself abt something and then u interrupt urself...if that made
any sense.I havent been
able to do any crafting cos ..well..cos
my heart is just not in it..and u really cant
put ur focus into ur
fingers if ,u know,u are subconsciously waiting for someone to

walk in the door.I keep finding myself thinking he will walk in
any minute and that I
havent got dinner heated up...So I read
a book...and I was fine except that when I put
down the book,
I was back to figuring out some new dinner recipe with the
ingredients on hand
,quite forgetting that my guinea pig is
no longer here..and really,its no fun cooking
new stuff if u
dont have anyone to eat it up ..other than ur self...Well,I'll admit

it,shall I? Am walking around like a desolate squirrel that lost
its winter store of
nuts...

Today morning I happened to be standing on the road gabbing
away with a friend in
Tamil when an old gentleman passed us,
stopped,turned round and asked me "What language

are u speaking?".I replied without thinking "Thamizh"...
He said "What?"..and I
provided the anglicized version."Tamil".
A wrinkled brow prompted me to try "T-A-M-I-
L.Its an Indian
language".And then he got it."Taumil?".and asked "But its not
the only
language in India,is it?" And I replied negative.
"How many languages do u have in
India?"came the next
question.Honestly,dude,I wudnt know the answer in normal

circumstances but to ask me,a desolate squirrel at that,is
next to trying to make
ice cream in an oven at 425 degrees.
Hopeless.The man must have sensed something of my

feelings cos he asked "South Africa has 294 languages.
Do u have that many?".He really
was a nice old man and
so I again replied negative.And then he continued "But you

Indians speak such beautiful British English,not like ours...
U have such a beautiful
British accent."and finished with
an eloquent gesture.
At this point all readers are asked
to picture a squirrel gaping at an old man and
saying "I do?"
And the old man tells the squirrel "Yes,u do have a beautiful
british accent."
Now the squirrel says"Well,I didnt realise
that I had a British accent" and considers
telling the old
man that it maybe cos India was once under the British Rule
and that
must be where the accent came from but then even
a desolate squirrel with lost nuts
must have some remnant
of brain function left,cos I didnt say anything.Mostly cos I

really cudnt think up a plausible explanation as to why I had
a British accent even
though the British left before my mom
was born...Really...Unless I came up with
something quite
creative like the lil guy in Slumdog Millionaire did..
That Shah Jahan built Taj Mahal
in the memory of his wife
Mumtaz who died in a car accident.