A Friday Evening

In a long time, I have never spent an evening like the way I did last Friday. In a cozy restaurant, typical of a romantic dinner setting in a Maniratnam movie, four hot girls and one pregnant lady spoiled the quiet dinner for a few lonely firangi guests and a couple of couples that had chosen to dine in that star diner that day. Thankfully I was one of the girls and not one of the other guests :)

This place we had chosen was about 2 minute drive from where I live. So the friends came over for a quick chai and chitchat. We did consider ditching the dinner for some in-house order in party, but we decided against, because we did not want any husband to enter his home and ruin the gals-indulgence.

The restaurant had lovely décor, amazing ambience (for us), and scrumptious slices of pizza, delicious desserts and mediocre main course. However the highlight of the evening was not the food per se, but the never ending entertainer in the form of S speaking three different dialects of Tamil that R did not get a word of, and yet laughed. I think I was too awestruck to even laugh, J was crying from the laughing and as Sh did not want to upset her make up, she held herself from laughing and crying. Holding that thought, was that the highlight or was it the “P” language that S, Sh and J spoke like that was their mother tongue leaving R and I in the dark? Am not quite sure. Or was it really the pizza that the pregnant lady had for starters, main course one and main course two? Or was it all the giggles of the happy girls that drove the rest of the guests away?

But in the end it was truly one of the nicest evenings gals!

Ladies - do you agree?

This is a thought that I have been meaning to pen down for a long long time. Today I had another trigger. So here I go.

There is a growing certain kind of women- the kind that’s not too hung up on coy, demure and small feet.

So what has been the best present you have got from your husband/fiancé? Responses have changed from expensive sarees, gorgeous necklaces, chocolate covered strawberries (well, one can never really resist those), surprise romantic trips to the more empowering ones. By empowering ones, I mean the ones that give you ‘wings to fly’ (in one of my friends’ own words). Like a GPS for the direction challenged wife, support to pursue a hobby or a profession for wives that weren’t exactly headed that way, new gym gears to keep up the motivation etc. Well you get the drift?

Well, I do agree that one needs to go silly and crazy and indulge once in a while. You would be considered boring otherwise ;) After all, no one gifts their girl friend a GPS on their third date, whereas chocolate and strawberries would be in. However in long standing relationships, IMHO, the need to feel empowered outweighs the need to feel pampered.

Well, would you agree?

A life that was!

Dedicated to all the lady-spouses at ISB who have enjoyed and endured this last year!

Nostalgic it is….
But this is not a totally unfamiliar feeling. I was getting nostalgic about the first few days at ISB when many firsts happened. First time I stepped into the atrium, first time I went in search of the bookstore, first time I searched for a rest room in the academic center, first time I met my neighbor P, first time I met someone who was having breakfast by herself and the conversation sparked immediate friendship. Many firsts and everything took me back by a year.

In about a week from now I am going to be out of here. This is also not an alien emotion. I felt it exactly a year ago while moving out of our apartment overlooking Hudson and while we took off from the Newark airport with no return ticket. Yet what is different about now is that we have always known that this day would come and exactly when it would come. We always knew ISB was a temporary phase of life, and that we would have to say bye-bye to the beautiful campus, refreshing night walks, wonderful studio and all the nice housekeeping staff that made our living in Hyderabad so much more pleasurable.

What we did not know was that the friendships formed years after childhood, years after school and college would still mean something and letting them behind was going to be difficult. It has been an amazing year of forging new friendships, friendships of a different kind, with the kind of people that are from an entirely different culture and geography. Strong bonds of friendships are usually formed at the tender age of innocence or the confused age of adolescence. IMHO, most of the adult life relationships tend to be more business like and judgmental. But here at ISB, I was made to rethink my opinion as there was something common amongst us all spouses, something unfulfilled and some shared pain that made a lot of us feel connected in some way or the other. It was the first time for many of us to have so many married women as friends. It was not an uncommon event to share our pretty personal qualms with other spouses here.

The common vein was mostly the overworked husbands and of course the famous mother-in-laws. I am not sure how lasting these relationships are, but I am certain its one of a kind that rings a special point in our lives back in time.

Hampi- Fascinated & fatigued!!

Two days later, here I am still alive from a trip that was both exhilarating and exhausting. The journey started in high spirits. Ten of us cramped in a cabin of a train played mafia. Between the first two games, mafias and villagers got even and were well fed to a delectable spread of dinner with cuisines from across the country. When we did realize that the whole compartment save us was trying hard to sleep, we hesitantly closed the session for a short night’s sleep. A woke us up at the ungodly hour of 5 am and said that the train was running ahead of time. Amidst skeptical looks, foul breaths and empty water tanks in the train, we passed the most difficult 40 minutes of the trip cursing A.

Checked into our rooms; we had a relaxing morning coffee. Overlooking a scenic and rustic garden interspersed with little cottages, under a cool early morning sun that was still making up its mind to peep out or hide back in, we lived our life rich :) (Now, that’s a term I picked on the trip thanks to a certain Laadanandji) Soon after that, complying with Indian Standard Time, we were ready by 8am for a 7:30am call at the breakfast table. That’s the convenience of being in India eh?



Treating the tummy to steaming idlys, toasts and corn flakes, and indulging ourselves to a few quick shots under the camera, we left promptly for the day’s sight seeing. In the first stop, we saw a partly restored monolithic statue of Lord Narasimha. There is a Shiv ling next to it. I wonder if this was the age when Shaivaites and Vaishnavaites lived in harmony with each other.

As the sun ascended in the sky to scaring heights, we were sheltered in an underground temple that housed some more Gods. The guide narrated the story of Kannapa Nayanar – see pic.



Sun continued its ascension. And we continued to brave the heat. The Zanana enclosure- the harem for the royal and the dancing women housed a center courtyard where various cultural compositions were played for the amusement of the kings and the queens guarded by eunuchs on three watch towers around the area. Architecturally advanced, these open air courtyards had the effect of an Air Conditioned auditorium due to the water lines built within the structures.

Another interesting observation is the communion of Hindu and Muslim styles in these structures. Vijayanagara kingdom was really a religiously tolerant empire that employed a few thousand Muslim soldiers in its army. They were eventually defeated by an insurgency from within on the face of a rare unity of four deccan sultanates against the empire. For some reason instead of taking control of the region after conquering the army, they plundered and reduced it to a ruinous state which is only partly restored to this day.




This slew of structures though architecturally superior, was aesthetically average. The ornate designs and minute carvings were missing. One of the other temples, the hallmark of Hampi has musical pillars. Apparently, the carnatic swaras could be replicated by tapping on these pillars. There were also certain pillars that could create the sounds akin to an instrument. The highlight of the day was the sunset view. From the uneven rocks across the plain ruins we could see a brilliant ball of golden yellow slowly losing sheen and sinking for the day. The sunset I thought progressively sped as if in a hurry to flee from the throngs of people marveling in the spectacle.

In sometime, we were back in the resort for a dip into the swimming pool. Though it seemed like it was relaxing, the moment we got off the pool in the late evening, we realized we were really exhausted for the day. We had a fairly quick dal-chawal type dinner. I was probably asleep in less than thirty seconds after eyeing the bed.

The next day dawned early, but beautifully to a hubby-ordered chai on the verandah of an exquisite cottage with the most delicate warmth of the sun. This is such a simple and a primal pleasure that everyone could indulge in every morning, day after day. Yet we usually choose the cozy bed and a lazy sleep. I wonder why?



That day, we decided to be more sensible in our sightseeing escapades, so we settled for a visit to the Virupaksha temple followed by a slow and soothing boat ride across the Tungabhadra. The best part of the day was the ten of us taking an auto ride together with the men doing the acrobatics and women getting squeezed and cooked in the heat. Quite a bonding opportunity :D When the sun was directly above our heads and when the sun screens and water bottles were getting emptied at the same rate, we decided to call it a day and headed home to a game of Pictionary and random rants nestled in a cool room.


After sun down, A & I had our first experience with a camel ride and with Rajastani food. Both the experiences were unique and satisfying. Thus ended our two day sojourn to the heat capital of South India.

In these two days we managed about 1000 pictures from various crazy angles, permutations of people, and combinations of coolers and caps. Why compromise on our little treasured keepsakes?

Going back to India for good ..

4.5 years - thats how long I have been in this country as a student, as a wife, as a H1B person in the American workforce, as a New Yorker, and more. There are a million relationships I am leaving behind; taking only the memory with me in the next few hours, in the 20 hour flight back to India, back to my home.

Its quite a conflict of emotions running right now.

R2I

In what seems like a whirlwind of time, the last four plus years has zipped past me in a myriad of eat outs, cooking, schooling, working, travelling, moving, losing, gaining and smiling!

I am not sure if the feeling of leaving the coveted United States of America has sunk in yet. Those days that unfolded with long lists of words from Barrons remain agonizingly fresh in my memory. Life got fast forwarded and the circle is drawn. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything else in the world.

My experiences are truly enriched by the people I met here, the ones that reshaped the course of my life, the ones that turned me from being ignorant to informed, the processes and systems that made living seem so much easier on the surface and so much scary down under. The jobs that always swayed above quick sand, the economy that swelled and plunged, the hurricanes that left people thinking beyond, the elections that played politics, the winter that leaves one cold and numb – it all added to the multitude of perspective.

So many reminiscences flash down the memory lane, faster than I can consciously think. I can’t record the emotions that are running through me right now- the entire gamut from excitement, joy, poignant, uncertain, insecure and bloody shit scared. Sometime I am sane and think straight, but most times my emotions take the better of me and I get lost. I seek guidance from my sources of strength (read I pray like I have never before). And then I feel a little sure and certain, however I realize I am so human and falter again.

However in the grand scheme of things, I am definitely looking forward to the suspense in the life forward.

God, stay with me!

Hudson water landing !!

If you haven’t seen the news, here it is -

I was at work when I came to know of the incident. I felt weak and shiver positively ran across my spine. And then I followed the news and was in relief and in awe of the phenomenal rescue efforts. Time and again, New York does not fail to impress me. If such mishaps have to happen in the world, let it happen in New York, because that’s where the impact is minimal –what an incredible effort.


I am especially inspired by the pilot’s reaction to the incident. Supposedly he was calm and composed, took important decisions and maneuvered the plane to land on water, like that was his daily routine. Wow! When failure is not an option, don’t you panic? Probably not!?

I don’t know how you can commend the heroic efforts from the rescue team. I am sure there are atleast 150 families who bless them whole heartedly.

If you were on-board,

It’s quite a life-enriching experience for the common man on board. It’s like having a second chance to live. It’s like you had an eternity to reflect on your past life, before you were lunged out to safety. Lastly, it’s one reality check for us to think beyond economy, losing jobs, mounting mortgages, broken relationships, and petty fights and find that common ground with that entire dissimilar unrelated people in our society.

Again it happened in New York, in my backyard. NY inspires in ways more than you know!

Winter special !

It was a Saturday. I was working a 6 am shift at the computer lab; half asleep I was supposedly assisting the inane med-students in their attempt to turn paper notes into slides! Those labs in med school was built with least respect for people working with computers, or so I thought, recessed in the insides of concrete jungle after miles of corridors from the nearest exit.

Two days ago, I had just peeped out of my window to catch the first glimpse of snow. The fresh flakes that seemed to be in a hurry to reach mother earth welcomed the concept of winter in me. I was happy, I remember- all those childhood dreams of America seemed to be turning true, the land of snow and year-around Christmas! (Well, that’s what I thought after watching Home Alone as a kid) However we did not venture out and the snowfall was rather short-lived.

When my shift was over at 2pm, I was hungry and after a long walk outdoors, I found it was snowing, rather heavily. I knew the forecast had been bad and was well prepared and yet I think I did not quite expect it to be this heavy. It was not anything like what I had watched on TV or that, that was two days ago, not a pretty sight by any means, not when my tummy was growling. And I had a ten minute walk through the campus before I can reach home. Not quite sure, how to steer my route, I was walking on fresh now; deep down I was scared if I would skid and break a limb or two. I was scared more so because, I did not see anyone else out ‘walking’ in the snow and if I did fall, I was not going to be able to get up without help; I imagined that if I fell, I would slide down the MLK road, slide down all the way until MLK’s gradient leveled. That big jumbo leather jacket from India protected me and brought me home. Later I came to know that was the heaviest snow in Cincinnati in 16 years!!!!

Today, as I was walking down to work on the streets of Manhattan, braving the cold and the wind, some tiny harmless flakes of snow, for some reason, I remembered this first venture with snowfall. I smiled. Well, I have definitely begun to love winter in my brief stay in USA!

Aug 18th, 2004 - Been four good short years !

Seasons went by
Chapters across the rainbow
Many things I liked
A few things turned dear
Only thing I miss
As hell as I do.

Cuisines across the orb
For palates of extreme kinds
Just like mine, to savor the love of food
Relishing from Mediterranean in the middle
To Caribbean in the west ; to Vietnamese in the east
Vegetarian I remain

Intimidating winters; No – not anymore
Love the white snow
Allow the pleasing jacket
To mask the flaws in form
Rove around sub-zero
Without fussing about sweat and smell

Football, the finest feast
Mannish Manning and the mob
Braving the cold and blizzard
To bring home the Cup
That we affectionately call
The Super Bowl

Those were the three things
That I came to love
As I remember my fourth anniversary
In this land of dreams
Differences and opportunities
For the mind that’s fresh and fearless

Silence !

I have always enjoyed a certain amount of solitude. Silence in isolation provides me the ambient atmosphere for some of my best and refined logical thought processes, be it writing a poem, cooking a new recipe or working at office. I am able to appreciate and understand my thoughts better and hence able to align them in order to arrive at meaningful conclusions.

Have you felt in total comfort in silence in a group? I routinely felt that through my childhood. I would just be sitting there studying truly oblivious to my surroundings. Television would be intentionally off, I don’t recall having a phone; and everyone at home will do their own stuff at peace in absolute silence. I would only hear my pen scratch against the paper, sometimes the lone tea shop on the street will blare some music that will faint out across so many walls and doors. I can always count the ticks of the wall clock, hear the water dripping from the improperly closed wash basin tap, cannot ignore the slight hum from opening the fridge, until the cooker would whistle and announce the dinner time.

Even at college hostel though rarely, around exam times, we would all be sitting on the corridor with a bunch of books spread all around us, dimming light and scratching heads. It is a time when you hate the fact that we haven’t touched those books in months, love the fact that you would not have to touch it ever again and be in an unsatisfied yet acknowledged and time-honored frame of mind about the inevitable impending exams- Silence it is.

Today, when I sit downstairs on the riverfront, the calming timbre of the dashing water and it alone would be so soothing that no length or variety of ipod music on Bose speakers can truly provide.

I consistently listen to music on mp3s in the gym at dangerous decibel levels, definitely ignorant to the person next to me even if he was screaming at the top of his lungs. I know I am at the risk of NIHL (noise induced hearing loss) and yet…..

If I left the ipods at home, may be I will blog years later about the wonderful times I had in the gym - how the churning of the myriad treadmills made intonations in harmony with the rolling arm pulleys and ellipticals to produce some unvoiced melody !!

There is music in silence and I haven’t quite listened to it in a while.

Recently one of my friends had written a blog on a 'common' name.
Is this common enough when I compare it with the flabbergasting originality of the Americans !

Think about MLK drives in the USA. Atleast one street connecting a interstate to a US Highway in every big town that I have stepped my foot in is a MLK drive. What about Vine St. ? I know in Cincinnati, there are two streets immediately parallel to each other atleast for a good 1 mile - and both are Vine ! Apparently one of them is short Vine ! Did I see Georgia in Eurasia, Was nt it the state south of South Carolina ?

Well, I know there are MG roads all over India - but thats just one example. I know atleast 10 Pine streets just between Oregon, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York. Does Lincoln / Broadway has to exist in every downtown?! What about Morristowns? what about Westchesters ? We lack any imagination and originality in naming our towns. And half the names are borrowed from Europe with the migration. There was once a friend at school and he said on the phone that he was in London..... I just saw him yesterday and he did not mention of any trans-atlantic plans and then I figure he is just 90 miles away in London, OH ! What are the chances you also find a Paris in a drivable radius from Cincinnati ! pretty good. There is one ! Now what about Berlin..... ! wow Berlin is 50 miles SW of Paris only in USA !

London, Paris, Berlin and Amsterdam should be found in half the states of USA !

and we dont stop here.... when I was TAing in my grad school, there were 3 Bills and 3 James - and all the three James had different names from their parents !

If you are talking about Karthik, Sriram and Murali, where do we put the Tom, Dick and Harrys !

We always see men in top positions. Of course there are more women now than earlier holding powerful seats in the corporate world. What is disheartening is, a man thats successful in his career is probably successful in his personal life too. He has a family, many times more than one kid and a posh home in the a scenic locality and a wife thats takes care of the big family.

However more often than not, a woman who is successful career is often left with a couple of divorces or a stalemate single life or single parenting a couple of kids. Is it because men can balance work-life better than women can or is it because partners are more supportive of a husband's career than a wife's career? :)

So the empirical fact is that women have to work twice as hard (or harder) to get to the same position that she would be if she were a man or end up in a broken personal life. The intertwined and complex unwritten rules around the role of a wife, mother and more so of a daughter-in-law does not leave any room for spending time and energy shaping up a professional life – but at this point, I should also mention that women are simply, point black - more capable people.

From what I see, she is endowed with a special sense of balance that can be observed in all her actions. When she feels empowered her man is scared that she would not need him anymore. When the traditional roles played by a man of being a provider and protector are challenged, he is worried if he was becoming dispensable in the household. More often than not, it is not lack of time on her part that lends herself to broken relationships and ineffectiveness at work, but it is a self-conscious choice of trying of boost her man’s ego that makes her a contended (I mean truly satisfied) home maker or a simple supportive wage earner.

Haven’t we seen her cook elaborately for the family and yet eat the left-overs truly happily? She finds the best pleasure possible in feeding a hungry tummy in her husband and kids. It is delight to be a great cook and bliss to be appreciated for her efforts. She seemingly effortlessly observes fasts for the wellbeing or simply a promotion at work. Doesn't she encourage you to raise from rock bottom to cloud nine, even if it had to include many smooth lies?!

What about the selfless love and the sleepless nights? What about the hurried and tired she sweating in the kitchen to make your favorite bajji when you got back from work? What about the tired reproach when she picks up your dirty socks and used clothes from the restroom, verandah and half-eaten lunch boxes from inside your bag? What about she effortlessly handing over the exact same receipt that you were searching for two hours? What about creating a place that you would love to call home? She created the balance in you by balancing everything from her wishes to his, from her reasons to his and from her intellect to his lack of pluck.


I celebrate womanhood whether she is in the backyard or the boardroom for everything was a choice.

You know where to send the Thank You note if you have / had a lovely place called your home !

Smile :)

It’s such a surprise for people who know me why I have not blogged about this yet. This is one topic that sure starts me going gala over it. Well, it is Hyderabad. The 2 years, 2 months and 10 days was a lovely experience; I am not sure what exactly about that place that attracts me. Right from the honey moon period as we called it – the one month guest house stay till the last minute tearful bye bye, I enjoyed every moment.

Things that I loved

1. 14 hour OPSF(I) with ample time to do my own stuff ;)
2. 8 hour sleep schedule
3. Weekend shopping
4. Amirpet bustle
5. Panjagutta temple
6. Riddles and puzzles everywhere from coffee corner to a crowded bus
7. Unsolved puzzles and stirring mysteries
8. Countless eatouts
9. The Charminar express to Madras every third Friday
10. Hostel TV and messy mess food
11. Fruit juice corners
12. The late night drops
13. bread sandwiches
14. Innumerable Utsavs and Minervas
15. Lifestyle, shoppers stop, Chermas….
16. Last but not the least, the people that made all of these memorable
    

A few things that make me smile –

Lifestyle, Shoppers stop, Amirpet Chermas, pantaloons
If you knew me, you know I can shop till I drop. These places kept me busy all day. Staying at Amirpet, I used to walk to all these places. In hind sight, walking was not so bad . I mustave thoroughly enjoyed it :)

Sampoorna set dosa
This is a tiny shabby fast hand out low profile place 5 minutes from my room. They serve amazing set dosas sprinkled with tomato and coriander and side with mint chutney

Minerva
I must have had atleast 2 dinners in a week in this place. It was just above Sampoorna. Amazing place for food, service and ambience

Utsav dum biriyani
Yummy food when I don’t mind traveling 30 minutes for lunch

Punjabi dhaba in the shadiest part of begumpet
Go for the best paratha and phulkas. I can eat 10 of them. A very small and cramped place

Swagath Rasa Vada
Oh yes, I have a huge appetite and I live to eat

Mochas Cafe (Banjara Hills road no.1)
Decent hangout for a group of friends.

Durgam Cheruvu (a long walk from hitec city)
Lovers’ hangout. Hangout as a group and spoil their time!!

Hitec city on weekends
Only for movies and yet another RKHS meal!

Koyi Mil Gaya, Chalthe Chalthe, Hero,
Not a big movie buff. A few movies that came to my mind in my Hyd tenure.

Runway nine
Wow, worth your time if you have not been go-karting before.

Koti book store
Better deals on books than cheaptextbooks.com ;)

Abids Mall
Another favorite shopping place if I don’t mind that extra travel

Prasads IMAX and NTR garden
For a day long hang out.

Hussain Sagar Lake
For the remnant piscean in me and my alter ego.

Friday @ 6pm – Secunderabad station
Home time! Its the third friday

Fruit juice shop behind the hostel
Anytime for a fresh drink walk away in your pajamas..

Panjagutta Temple
For some serene time with yourself.

Chilkur temple
Almost 1.5 hrs away, a very special temple.

10 downing st, begumpet
Well, if you are a party person

I am actually very happy I blogged this now, because it got me that special smile :)

Gibberish

As a kid, up until 10 or so, you were always looking forward to “Happy Birthday”. That’s how I called it. “Birthday” somehow did not convey the import of this very important day of my life, then. It was a day when you were supposed to have all the attention at school, wear the best dress, give away the best chocolates, sport the most stylish hairstyle and be in vogue. That was one special day when you will get away with not returning your homework, getting late to classes, having longer than permitted breaks and so on. I remember how I disguised a different day as my birthday if it ever fell on a holiday or an exam day. Exam days when people are busy and do not have the time to shower all the attention you want is not a good “happy birthday” day! New Year’s Day and Diwali also used to very special, because you get to wear new clothes hang out with those cousins who were the best pals.

Gradually, interest reduced. Diwali was just another day when you get to chit chat, see TV programs and such. It was still enjoyable, but not like the only time that you looked forwarded too. New Year’s brought back memories of the lovely last year and how I have not grown a bit mentally in the last one year! Never have I thought that the earth has completed one rotation of the Sun and now set for the next. Birthday only reminded of how old you have become. However since last year or so, any of these things stopped being a vintage date. They stopped reminding me of a bygone time period. Seemed like my calendar just continued into eternity without any periodical returns. What if no one discovered the periodicity and regularity of the seasons?


I would attribute two reasons for that. For one, nothing spectacular and worth remembering happened on these days. Secondly, lazy life is one big lump of time that dies a little by little without any kind of planning for the future. There is no future, present will soon be past and past is the only thing that remains vaguely as a memory. You won’t know the difference between a week back and a month back as both these times; you must have been a couch potato, with a bag of chips, staring at the ceiling fan, browsing endlessly on Orkut or laughing at FRIENDS. If this lazy and purposeless life continued for a long enough time, you will know what I mean – how you have lost track of calendar and dates and most importantly the return of the season as none was worth remembering!

Instead life must be divided into chunks of time based of what you accomplished or simply what your purpose was. If you have had that kind of lazy eras in your life, if you have cursed and blessed yourself at the same time for the elapsed time that went past unnoticed, you will understand what I mean!

I have and hence this blog.

Cricket !!

I remember watching the 1987 world cup as a six-year old. I will ask my folks at home as to whom they wanted to win and then offer my faithful prayers in the Puja room seeking the help of God to make that team win whatsoever. I did not understand the game and all I was worried about was my folks at home being happy!

1992 and 1996 were my best world cups when I followed every match of the tournament. I was still a little too immature that I would make trades with God that he can fail me in History revision exam, and instead make that up with an Indian victory! The Pakistan vs India - quarterfinals at Bangalore is something that I still cherish. Then, I had these amazing friends, with who discussions always revolved around the new boys -Dravid, Ganguly! I was even excited to watch Srinath play for Gloucestershire!!

Then, 1999 and 2003 I was a busy with other things and cricket was sent to the background. I followed the happenings from the next day news and that was it. Guess I grew-up and did not matter really if India won or lost. I never remembered any game until it happened and results were out. If I do get to watch a game, it was fun but that was it – it was no religion that I was so used to following fanatically!

Now, in 2007 thanks to a cricket-buff hubby, I am once again pulled into the magic of cricket, its drama, the fun and feelings. Just as I was thinking that the inclusion of minnows in the world cup diluted the competitiveness of the game, Bangladesh hit me right on and proved a better team than India on a given day in all departments of the game. With the precarious position India is placed now it will be interesting to see if they will make it to the Super8s. The batting looked good against Bermuda yesterday, but you cannot forget the fact it was Bermuda. Even against Bermuda, bowling looked very weak failing consistency and penetration. Fielding was lethargic, compared to those of Ireland, Bangladesh and even Bermuda. With this pack, will this team see through the Sri Lankan line up on Friday? In either case, I hope it turns out into a nail biting contest! Well, not exactly as that will not send us to Barbados. I want a thumping victory, letz see!

Speaking of this, I guess that much of the resentment of Indian fans on the loss to Bangladesh was subdued because the arch rivals Pakis failed to qualify to the Super8s. It was very upsetting to note Pakis’ coach Bob Woolmer pass away after their dismal performance in the world cup especially because we were having a fun time seeing the posters that read – death to Woolmer and death to Inzy by the Pakis’ fans the previous day as they lost to Ireland. It is just a game and it will be good if it is treated so. Anyways, hope his soul rests in peace.

Well, that was a blog that started out nostalgic, got all funny and filled with excitement and finished on a sad note distastefully. That was not how I intended it to be. :)

It is not that I have been toiling for any significant step up in my life or personality that had kept my blogging at bay for so long. It is just that I have not had the drive and zeal to sit in front of my lappie for such a long time.

This being my first post in the New Year, officially, Happy new year!!

Have you had the opportunity to see a tiny little baby with in hours of her birth? I did! Yeah! My sister-in-law delivered a baby girl. Her little face was so full of innocence and peace. We have all heard about poetic associations of fresh flowers and new borns. But when I saw the baby, I thought it stood no parallel. Though I wanted to hold the tiny little thing, I was so scared that I might actually hurt her. Fingers so frail, eyes always shut; it must be hard for the baby to leave the protected fortress of her mother’s womb for the world. If there is anything called purity in this world, it is the virtue in a new born baby.

This virtue in all of us is adulterated with passage of time in hope of larger ego, higher prestige, greed in terms of money and respect and blown out self-image. If and only, when one is able to contain these false impressions about self, can the virtue last a lifetime, otherwise the comparison between a baby and a flower will reign as both lose sheen and succumb to their real lives!

Sands of time!

Saturday saw us at Sandy Hook – one of the beaches on the coast of New Jersey. This one was very different from all the beaches I have visited in the US – Manzanita and Cannon of Oregon, La Jolla at San Diego and Wildwoods near Cape May Point. This one was closer to home, very much like my own Marina beach - the sands and shells; the grime and gravel – daily evenings from my childhood was coming back at Sandy Hook. Of course I missed the molaga bajji, the TV tower, the clock tower, the light house and the deep dug sandy caves. However the coarse sand, the expanse of the beach, the waves that dashed against and the warm water transported me to the warmth of my own Triplicane beaches.
Definitely one of my better weekends and I did total justice by getting damp and dirty!

Instance 1:
Where: X standard class room - History class in session
When: Sep 1995
Scene: The topic of discussion is reservation policy. The teacher is lecturing about why and how reservation policy was started in India. He is talking about why it is still in existence today – about the game of politics around it, about the reality of how well the policy is used or abused.
Now:
She can not seem to agree on how only a certain section of people could get critical benefits just by virtue of being born in a particular community. She does not find any reasoning pertinent to the present situation. She is not bothered about how it was ‘useful’ 50 years earlier when it was put in place, but certainly she feels it was a joke that had no benevolent relevance today. She feels cheated. At 14, in her animosity towards the Government, towards the people that make rules she hurls away her spite in words. She feels so powerless just to be taking on her teacher. After the class, she realizes her actions were futile and that her behavior was at best childish. At the end of the class, her teachers talk to her about her thought process, the truth in her reasoning, and the wasted energy in class. She is ashamed for her actions but she is convinced her logic and rationale was right. She certainly feels let down – a let down of an entire community.


Instance 2:
Where: Railway ticket counter, Mambalam, Madras
When: 1998 February
Scene:
She is standing in a queue that’s at least 10 people long before her and at least a 10 more behind her. There are almost 10 such lines. She has some work outside of that railway station. All of them are definitely busy or at least none of them are particularly enjoy the sweltering heat and the long lines.
Now:
Our hero, a well dressed 20-something man tries to push through the queue, get ahead of others in the line to get tickets. She gets extremely furious. Agreed, that he is not doing a heinous crime, but she feels cheated. A very daily misdemeanor that someone does everyday. But that’s no explanation. She cannot take it. She gets violent with words at him. At first, she says – “Hello Sir, It’s a queue. Please enter the line (showing the end)”. It does not seem like he is paying any attention. With a louder voice she repeats – “Hello Sir, Can you hear me? I said we are not fools here waiting in the line. Show some manners.” He turns around, makes some eye contact and proceeds with pushing the people again. She cannot take it any longer. She pats him on the back – grabs his attention and says – “Now will you please get away from here or shall I call the Superintendent of the station?” Now he is almost mocking at her. There are people buzzing in a hushed tone, some talking about her audacity and some trying to appease her and some trying to get him away. She reiterates “Move away, I am not going to let you get away with this”. Now there are more people talking. More and more physically making sure he is moved away from the line; many speaking ill of the man and many more trying to pacify the girl. Though he was gone, she feels unsure and jittery of herself. She could feel her blood boil, her tension mounting and suddenly she feels very conscious of herself. She talks no more until she cycles back home and recounts the episode. Everyone at home reprimands her; no one really approves her behavior. They teach her to be patient, to behave like a ‘girl’. She is just not convinced. She was sure that she would have felt worse had she let him cheat on her.

That is the real ‘She’, today her outward reaction may be different because of the certain cultural/civility influences, but inside she is still the same person. Patience has muted her, time has mellowed her; powerless sometimes, weak and incapable, she cannot take cheating in her stride. She believes, cheaters showcase scant respect for the cheated. There are people who cheat at all levels – right from the grassroots like the ones trying to jump the queue to the ones like self-proclaimed avatars that take an entire generation for a ride. It’s hard to witness the ones getting cheated, harder to get cheated and worst staying voiceless in times of such controversy. Conmen exist only as long as people are weak and fragile. Please wake up, recognize the cheaters and whip your share.