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.

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!!!

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!!!

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”.

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.

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.

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. :-)