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Thursday, September 2, 2010

"ME-TIME" or "Mother" ??

This is more than a blog, This is written to you Rekha, specifically to you. I remember our hundred thousand conversations, when I told you how much I aspire to live alone, to cherish that space, that absolute ME-TIME, that melancholy of coffee and a book.., to be with myself. Its a lie Rekha. I will not call it a lie, because I did not lie to you but thats what I presumed that I liked but the truth is what I realised only yesterday. It is not as long as it does not hit you, you are lucky, but when the vacum hits is when we trip and fall. 

I have also realised, no matter how much you engage yourself and however busy you could have been in that "ME-TIME", You would not want to indulge in any of it if you are hit by that vacum. I think this is one point in time when you might also want to thank God for your job, no matter how hectic it is, for it is the only thing that can take your mind off the pain of missing someone. 

As an after thought, I think the same thing happens to tiny tots who gets to school for the first time of their lives, and that may what happens to  little children when they have to leave their grandparent's after a summer vacation, possibly the same thing to young adults possibly when they fall in love. 

And that very thing happened to me, When my mother left from here.  Mom made her stay very very special. I missed her in every thing right from the time I reached back home after seeing her off at the airport. I was quite okay until we saw her off, but it hit me when we reached home, right from the time we unlocked the door. Missed her, during dinner and after that when earlier, she massaged my back for the back pain after dinner. This morning, when I had to leave for work.. I missed her when she used to come down along with me in the lift till the parking till she saw me off at the gate, and today there was no one with me. Am not talking about the good homely food for breakfast, lunch and dinner but am talking about those special things that only Mothers are capable of..and thats how she was capable of creating that void.

No wonder, there are so many poets who has chosen Mothers to write about..I just want to conclude as words don't express how much she means to me, the truth remains that Mothers are special and with mothers around you may not want the "Me-Time".


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

whats in a name or whats in Arthi's name?

Act 1 Scene 1.

I heard from Senthil that there is an opportunity available that I can explore. I do not show much interest. One of his friends tries exploring the same, comes back and shares with Senthil that the interviewer was checking about me. Senthil insists I should connect with them. On his insistence, I connected, I liked it and they liked me. They make offer. I accept it. I realise on joining, I have joined where Arthi is supposedly on maternity leave.

Act 1 Scene 2.
Soon after joining here, I made friends with a style guru. And I remain friends with her till day. Apparently her name was Arthi.


A few years later.


Act 1 Scene 3.

Same employer. Different Role and different responsibilities. I get married. I need a transfer to join my Husband. I connect with my colleague in Hyderabad.  She needs a transfer too. What a dream come true. Everybody agrees to our mutual swap. And what can be a better surprise, Her name too was Arthi.

End of Act 1 with 3 scenes

Curtains open on Act -2

Act-2 Scene -1

While I continue to be in Hyderabad in the erst while Arthi's place, I get another call from another employer. I do explore options. I consider it and I move in. No prizes for guessing, The girl who called me from this corporation, her Name too was Arthi.

End of Act-2

Should I say "whats in a name..?" or should I say "Whats in Arthi's Name..?"

Monday, August 9, 2010

My dream!

I want to write many things here, many things like that girl about whom I want to bitch or  about the jinxed name that I have come across, or even better about my desire to become a great writer one day, who can write beyond bitching, beyond dance floors, beyond wardrobes, beyond booze, beyond the sheets, beyond the break-ups beyond America and beyond infidelity. 

What is it to write without all these things? Is it like pulling out the quintessential spices of any peice worthy of reading or is it reminiscent of Wordsworth and Coleridge? Don't get there, never a match because even if a handful of eminent literature professors come together it may still not be possible they would make one Wordsworth. Anyway, I cannot write about the solitary reaper or the daffodils. I have read them and I have loved them. If I saw some dainty flowers or a beautiful rainbow, I may live in it but I am afraid, My writing cannot do them that justice so I might never venture there.

I have dreamt of a dream, a hundred million times the same dream in myriad shades. I have dreamt this dream that one day, I would also win a booker prize and have fantasized my reactions when someone from the long distance rings and tells me that my book is nominated. I have imagined myself dressed in a red saree like the way Arundhati Roy was dressed when she received her award. I have picturised a wiki about my book.

With a dream like that and  with a vision where my writing makes a difference to the reader, Do I really want to bitch about anybody here? For all we know, You might find that "Bitchy -Piece" here, yes you read it right, it could be one of the following blogs which might get published or which might remain only a draft..I would not know!!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Emotional Atyachaar.

"Emotional Atyachaar" may not be a national news or a burning issue but definitely something with enough magnitude that it has given enough food for thought for all script writers, story tellers and movie directors cutting across all times and eras, cutting through all time zones and geographies, cutting across age groups and gender, that many movies in Hindi as well as English Cinema has been inspired by sheer magnanimity of this "emotional atyachaar"

Only those who are burdened of going through an emotional atyachaar knows what it is to be weighed down by such acts. But normally, the first thing that strikes to one in an emotional atyachaar is the involvement between any man and a woman who are in relationship like a boy friend/girl friend or fiancé/fiancée or either of the spouses-Husband or the wife. But anyone beyond this relationship can also be a victim of emotional atyachaar in a day to day life.

How can we miss out the parkwood international episode, where it has been claimed that the director lived in a pent house above the girls hostel abused these girls and threatened them if they raised the issue with anyone. http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/Shocked-parents-pull-out-wards-from-Parkwood/articleshow/6207357.cms
Is it possible to ignore the sexual favours at workplace in their lure to take them places above and across? In the same length, taking the law to one's advantage to make false accusations of harassment to get to positions above or places across? Why go the length and breadth of the work place when it can happen with in the confines of one's home? When your maid knows your dependability on her, does she not manipulate you and  make you compromise on her responsibilities. We would have all been witness to this sometime or later. Contrastingly, The Shiney Ahuja and the maid case was there in  the open for all of us to see and we have to wait to watch the verdict.
It could happen to any of us in our normal lives, parents and family indulging in it to ensure their kid's don't tread the path of falling in love with someone in the opposite sex. Relatives and family indulge in it to get their dodging children married. Sons or daughters resorting to Emotional atyachaar for a nod of approval in context of their love affair. Students in schools and colleges take the EA(emotional atyachaar) route to make up for the lost attendance or perhaps for better grades or scores.

The Power play of politics, lust, money greed and emotions, It could be all of that or any of that which leads to the pursuit of 'Emotional Atyachaar"  . Unless, the focus shifts to meaningful values, the suffering from EA would continue. Its time we get back to true love and the goodness of life.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Obsessions!! are we obsessed about being obsessed?

Why are we so obsessed about certain things which we can do without? Sometimes, knowing about it and sometimes not knowing about that . Sometimes knowingly, to be counted in and sometimes unwittingly, without our knowledge because our surrounding and our every body else in our environment is obsessed that it has gotten into you and me too, that we end up being fanatical about it! FIFA was all over the place, Every body's FB profile status read something about someone winning, someone loosing! Well, In the first place, We are not even playing!! 

Am ok following it, But does it need so much attention that it looses sight of other significant things? Why no one made a mention of Saina Nehwal getting to world's No-2. Why her Indonesian Open super series crown did not get similar attention? Why nobody bothers to scribble a line about our very own SM Krishna's attempt of dialogue with Pakistan? Why no mention of Headley's revelations, One of the main accused in the 26/11 terror attacks in Mumbai? Why no one cares to feel about the Bengal Train Crash inspite of being such a mystery, http://ibnlive.in.com/news/bengal-train-collision-cause-still-a-mystery/127131-3.html?from=tn Why nothing about fighting Naxal violence is ever discussed?  Why just not a word on the water problem between AP and Maharastra? Why no thoughts on the Mining rampant scam in Karnataka and AP border? 

Why is that we choose to remain silent on few things and glorify few other things? Is it because we are too lost in glorifying a few things like Spain winning FIFA or Is it a clear case of not following these things because it taxes a little of one's brain to be following these things or is it that there is a sense of unbelonging of something your own and a sense of pride in acknowledging something that every body else does.

Whatever be the so called reason, we all seem to be suffering from a bigger disease of obsession, The obsession of being obsessed! like the obsession with FIFA or the HARRY POTTER or like my obsession of being obsessed about why others not being obsessed with what they are not obsessed but obsessed about the obsession of what they are obsessed with or even better, perhaps my current obsession(or for a change, should I call it affiliation?) to the obsessions of the others obsessed! 

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Whose face is it, anyway??

Well, Its mine! The answer to the question which captions this blog,"Whose face is it, Anyway?" is not difficult. Of course, it is mine! Am not getting into the poetic description of my face here but just trying to come to terms with the unnerving commonness of either the angular or the roundness of my face or perhaps the tone or the symmetry, or I do not know what ever that mystery is or is it just people's uncanny ability to draw a parallel to my face or is it really that common a face?!?

A four year old kid, who had never seen me and my sister together thought it was just one girl who gave him those chocolates, those hugs and all the other goodies while it was either me or my sister showering him all that and much more, Until one day he saw us both together and such was his surprise to realise there were two of us that he was jumping and laughing all at a time and screaming "Double Role...! aiiieeeeee.. Double role!! double role!!

If you said "..Excuse me, He is only a 4 year old kid..!" then, I have something more delirious.  There was this sweet lady, an acquaintance who also happened to be the mother of another acquaintance of mine. The lady happened to bump into my sister and started the camaraderie with her. Going by the flow of the conversation, my sister avoided the possibility of "A comedy of Errors" taking place by sharing her identity.  I think what could be written off  as pure bollywood masala should sometimes be given a benefit of doubt as there could be some real time inspirations like this! what say?

Now that we spoke bollywood, I must share the other innumerable comparisons!! Understandable, that in the earlier two instances it was only a comparison with my sister. But there is more, "..your face is ditto your brother's face, looks of your father, like your mother..."  It is still ok because there is some credibility,  Let us blame that common gene which could have been inherited.




But what about the comparisons with Kiran Vairale, Kaajal Kiran, Bipasha, Sania, Jiah, Prachi and many more. Some are comparisons, I have liked and some were disliked.

Whatsoever the comparison is, I am myself the individual that I am. I can never be them and they can never be me. It is very comforting to be in my own skin! And it is not any one's face but MINE!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

At a loss of words...about the film industry Awards..!!

It has been a while before I got to blog with travelling and a few other things keeping me busy. The best thing about travel for me is that from there, originates the seed for my next blog but the worst thing about it is I have to keep off it and so the seed never sprouts as I would have either forgotten or it is too safe in my memory that I can never recall.

This time around when I was not blogging, I constantly reminded myself about the next two things that I wished to write and as I set out to do that just now, and no sooner had I mentioned travelling, I remembered my last visit to Bangalore and the time I spent with my family and friends there. I was ready to just step out of the house when my sister was watching a repeat telecast of an awards show on the TV, stopped by the living room and I stood to watch what was happening for the next five-ten minutes and what happened on the show had stirred my emotions then and it stirred my emotions now which is when I decided not to write about what I had originally intended to write when I started off this blog but to write something that I so strongly felt about then and I so strongly feel about now. It is about having fun at someone else's cost in the name of humour seems to be the order of the day in these award functions.

Ashustosh Gowarikar was making an earnest request to the MC s to stop taking a dig in the name of humour,  and courtesy Sajjad's interruptions, Ashutosh got a little worked up when he said "shut up..!" While that remark could have been avoided in a public forum, I for one would not say it is wrong as it is but natural that for all humans can get worked up when one's sentiments are hurt. When Ashutosh ended it on an even note, saying he was sorry for that remark and that they were friends, It was strange that Sajjad could not take the remark on a lighter note. It was amusing to see how Sajjad who believes that his sense of humour at others cost expects them to treat it as a joke could not treat the remark as a same kind of joke. The icing on the cake of that show was Farah Khan pitching in when she joined her brother on the podium to inform Ashutosh that If he was at the Oscar's he could not have spoken for more than 40 seconds as the music would begin in the back ground and would be dragged out of the stage. 
I think Farah needs to realise that her comparisons are far too high held and it is not too apt. Her comparison at first with the Oscars -She needs to understand that It is a larger stage to recognise the excellence of the professionals in the film industry across the world and not to a particular region. She also needs to understand that we are not having a presidential government but we are socialistic, secularist and most importantly a democratic country and we have the freedom of speech and the freedom of expression but not the freedom to have fun at someone else's sentiments or at anybody else's cost. Her comparison in the last to R K Laxman's "Common Man". It is high time she realised that he is a league apart and cannot be comparing their dry and dirty jokes and their silly humour cannot be looked at from the same plane.
Also, I recall in another of such awards function SRK and Saif take things a little too far with their NAH-REAL(not real) (नारियल) awards. I did respect the fact that Farah has given some good movies and I did hold her at a pedestal  but it went on a decline though. Although she has been associated in the industry for 18 years,  and her love for that industry could be immense but that does not give her the liberty to say that she loves it more than anybody else as there are many legends in the industry who have contributed far more than what Farah has contributed in the last 18 years and perhaps their love is far greater than hers that they have given more to the industry than they have taken from it. 
So also, the likes of SRK and Saif have shown their acting prowess on the silver screen and people respect them for that and not for their cheap thrills at an awards function. It is important to remain a Hero both on screen and off screen without getting into such cheap stakes!

I think this genre of  stupid gags is catching up very fast and it is almost the same at most of these jazzy award functions. I cannot remember where it started or who started it first but these gags are supposed to just tickle the funny bone so, even  if one is doing something of that sorts they should be able to draw that line and be careful enough to know where to draw that line as this line of difference is wafer thin and it should be sensitive to people's emotions. 

But there are still a few classic award functions that are crafted with minutest of the detail and the finest of the moments ignited that might just linger on and on...I hope that MC s anchoring such gatherings would take a leaf out of  these classical award's like that of the Gollupadi Awards.. Inspite of K Balachander's strong  vernacular influence when he speaks,it is beyond appreciation, the effort that went behind in sharing those finest details, All that study and research that has gone behind  before making that presentation, the humility of the one of the finest filmmakers of the industry, The sincerity with which he speaks ..Just keeps you all ears..!! And with a humbling experience and similar modesty, similar honesty, the award is accepted by Aamir Khan is worth a watch..!


Saturday, June 5, 2010

Bliss !! Ignorance or negligence?


To be greeted with a publicity campaign for a Men's Paying guest accommodation with a wrongly spelt name could be funny the first time. It could be irritating if it is the fifth time.  On the twentieth time, It could feel like disregarding and overlooking at it. It is after this decision of mine to over look the wrong spelling of that Men's PG campaign , The harder I tried to overlook it, more difficult it became to ignore it. Courtesy, the genius who misspelt it as "GENIOUS Men's PG". On the Hundredth time, I was worried if my mind would register the wrong spelling as the correct one, I decided to change my route. Sadly for me, the genius had painted the whole town red with his publicity campaigns and changing route did not help because GENIOUS was there even on the road less traveled.

Approximately after two hundredth time, I was telling myself  "...Don't look at that. That is a wrong spelling. Genius is spelt as G-E-N-I-U-S.... and not G-E-N-I-O-U-S. When I lost track of the number of times, I had seen it, I had to reassert myself after checking the spelling on Google.

Now, this is damage enough if some one Ignorant starts proclaiming as GENIOUS.., Well, wait a moment, Is it really ignorance or is it the hand of a "Genius" as a publicity stunt? As a second thought, is it sheer negligence? Even when it calls for publicity, damn a care about the validation? Nevertheless, Whether its ignorance or negligence, it is immaterial as it is getting the much deserved publicity.  And that is what I call as Bliss.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Meals on wheels..!!There can be more deals..!

The return from my recent trip after visiting my parents was bundled with a lot of interesting things. Sweets, Namkeens, fruits and much more. In addition, It gave me some inspirational business ideas for Indian Railways which I would like to share it here, hoping somebody from there would read it to implement it.

When I boarded Rajadhani, it was raining heavily outside and I pulled out the towel from the paper bag that read "Northern Railways welcomes you" and dried myself a little. I had just settled down and one of the stewards of the Rail crew offered a  bottle of mineral water and it was called "RAIL NEER"  NEERu in Kannada meaning Water, I felt impressive, patriotic, curious all at a time of being a Kannadiga. While this thought kept me pre-occupied for sometime, Food was served on a platter with small containers of different items, each one of them reading "Meals on Wheels" in bold red.

I thought of  Meals on wheels as a novel idea, while I chewed on the chapati, Panner Butter Masala along with some Dhal and Jeera Rice. I did not think very high of the rice that was served but the curd and the rasgolla is worth a mention. Once dinner was done, I felt travelling alone could be boring. I had looked around for a book on the platform and I had not found it, the closest I came to picking something was a magazine called "OUTLOOK", which I instantly gave up when the platform vendor told me Rs. 50/- for a magazine like that. It was too late when I thought I should have simply picked it up and I got this interesting idea that in India, most people(I say most and not all as I don't wish to Generalize all Indians) that they would just make it up to catch the train so they would not have with them too much time to pack a book even if they are avid readers) so it would be a good deal for both the travellers and the railways, if they were to sell some books or magazines who would want to pick up something for a nice read. Also, the publishing companies would stand to have a percentage of their sales hiking up.

Now, this led me to think of our unfortunate brethren who do not have that flair for reading would be left bored if they only sold books and magazines, so they could have more deals with some other interesting wares like a  colour cube or some other brain teaser games. So, considering folks with lesser inclination for activities involving the grey cells, they could sell a pack of cards(provided they are not travelling alone). So one thought leading to another and one again I had realised there could be deals starting from books, games, camera batteries, mobile chargers to making some compartments Wi-Fi.

While I thought of business propositions for Indian Railways, I caught him in the act, the man sitting opposite to me was staring at me while he held a pen and a paper in his hand, His appearance was not something that one would get to see often as he had a nicely tucked shirt in his jeans and had a small pony neatly brushed behind, had a pendant of a skeleton in black metal on his chest which displayed outside on his crisply pressed shirt.  He had his earrings which matched with the pendant.  I was startled and his sight woke me up from my chain of thoughts, not knowing what to do, I fidgeted with the towel, I thought of pulling the curtain on him and his staring by bringing down the blanket from the upper berth, So when I stood up to reach the blanket, My corner of the eyes strained a little when my sight landed on that peice of paper in his hand which had etched out a marvellous sketch of me. I appreciated his art but I was still wondering why me?? And I had suddenly become very conscious of myself  unable to think even a thing. when I lifted my eyes again, then his gaze had shifted on a little kid besides him in the side berth and as he watched his hands were swift and deft in its movement.

I was at ease and I was thinking if the railways should also have deals on pens, pencils, papers, erasers and more??

Saturday, May 22, 2010

A note of Thanks..!

One of my friends, an avid reader of my blog, suddenly approached me and asked me to write a blog on her. I was smiling at her request not knowing how to react. She said "I don't care what you do but do write a blog on me.." So I set out to write this blog, dedicating it to her(and her name is Sai) and a few others who have impacted my life in some way.

There are many others whom I owe not just this blog but every thing else in my life including my life (like My Husband, My family and a few tight friends) I clarify who they are in brackets because I do not owe any thing to any credit cards or any mobile connection.

Sai, You are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever known. I saw you as a girl very playful and bubbly, with high spirits which masks the real you. Hats off to you, I have seen you undaunted when you were inundated with the toughest situations of life. To see you come through it, undismayed with your parents separation and having lost your mother whom death chose for its company. Your qualities of speaking your mind out, Your ability to win people and their hearts is something that is admirable. Keep trusting in Him and continue to be that warmly loved person that you are.

Mansoor- We may have had certain differences of opinion on certain aspects but I definitely think and hold certain other attributes in high regards. When Ever we set out for team lunch, I realised the essence of tips in the truest sense. For you, tipping someone who waited at our table was just a customary but tipping the young boy who came in the last, to do away with the dishes and clean the table held a higher significance and it meant a lot for you to tip that boy. Your initiative to tie up the team together for the community service donation is commendable.

Kirthana- Your ability to handle relationships at work, Your ability to organise, Your assertiveness was something that I was so much in awe. It is said that first boss can impress upon one's life at work. You were my first boss in a corporate and you have left a deep impression. I should share the credit for all my credibility today.

Ansuman- I still remember your signature at the end of your e-mail which read "Do Good". I think of you as one of those people whose essential tenet of life was to do good, I was touched by your gesture, without any second thoughts that you helped me.

Riyaz- I have noticed people putting an action plan for savings, but you are one person who was driven with the motto of ensuring every person has a savings plan for their life. Your follow-ups with the right contact details were impeccable.

Saurabh- Your dedication towards any activity, Your patience and efforts while your approach on sharing your knowledge is something highly appreciated.

There are some names whose names are missing here who have had a very deep impact on my approach to life and my life itself and would continue to have that impact because I believe their Impact always remains a journey and is never a destination.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Essence or Nonsense


Sometimes, the weight of certain matters are so high and intense that it is the essence of some one's life, it could be the essence of certain turning points, it could be the defining essence of success or failure, death or life, change or stability.

Such is life's essence that without some menace to it, without some irky, pesky things, without some nonsense to it, the value of that essential essence is lost.

For instance, Whoever created the KS rubber had an innovative idea to introduce the flavour to it but the essence of rubber invention has been lost due to a very strong odour of the rubber itself. When it is supposed to be the turn-on of a long last(ing) relationship it is such a turn off. Phew! Such a disaster!!

Another instance, No matter how hard I try to subtly write and hint at what rubber means without sounding like a cheap pervert and still attempting to write whatever I intend to mean, either the essence of it would get lost by too much subtlety or it could sound like some dirty gross talk. Either ways it is difficult to bring in that distinction to a reader who is straight.

Third instance, if one read "straight" from the line above, Am afraid how many of them would be reading between the lines and would begin to wonder what has "straight" or "swinging" got to do here. So those of you with that extra bent of mind, I would like to clarify that straight here refers to those dearest of my very straight- forward readers.

Fourth instance, as I scribble on my wall (pun intended, referring to the wall on my face book) "Hyderabad seems like Ooty!! :) All thanks to laila ?!? one's misery another's benefit huh???.." am just beginning to wonder the so called beautiful essence of cold breeze, nice coffee, hot mirchis could actually be a scar in the lives of few others. Imagine this when it could be read as "At least 14 people have died in storm-related incidents, with the tropical cyclone Laila battered India's south-eastern coast on Thursday inundating large areas, snapping power and communication lines and disrupting transport including lightning strikes and wall collapses, since Tuesday night, the IANS reported. Twenty-five fishermen were also reported missing.Eleven major towns and 1,500 villages were plunged into darkness as gales damaged power lines. Trains and flights in the affected areas were cancelled Thursday.."
The last instance might leave one empathizing with the lost souls and battered lives, It could leave one shattered and robbed and sapped of all the essence that one had before setting out to readthis blog

I hate to be leaving this right here leaving the reader dry and sad, so here is something to cheer up. What could be the essence of one's livelihood could be nonsense to someone reading it, Essence or Nonsense, It can just light up that much needed smile.

I was passing by a shop dealing with all scraps- old papers, books, bottles, metals etc. It displayed a board which read "OLD PAPERS & M.T BOTTLES TAKEN HERE"
I was passing another shop dealing with whole sale Groceries and the board outside reads "HOLE SALE SHOP"

Funny eh?? Good enough, if it can leave you smiling. So Keep smiling till you find something as hilarious, am sure It will not take too long before you hit upon something soon !!


Thursday, May 13, 2010

Figure this out for yourselves...!

Picture this conversation-

GJ: Rosie, out of sight and out of mind, eh? Looks like you are really adapting yourself nicely in the West. Big Hi to L!

AR: what u saying Georgie..in my mind totally all of you! got to adapt no choice shall i say? ;) lol. L hi's back too! he is off now to help the neighbors move homes today...and am getting ready to spring clean and dash off to a party in the evening when he returns..what u doing u never tell me...its saturday dont tell me ur working!

(Well, for reader's clarification AR is not me!! It is not in any way connected to Ashes of Roses. As much as I would have loved to write the Full Names, I Can't because they would kill me if they realise that I stole this from their wall scraps as a fodder for my blog )

Now for some more information, AR Lives in Germany, Europe. So thats about everything you need to know to try and clear my doubts. My doubt here is Why GJ refers to Europe as West? For convenience, we call the far western countries like the North America region as West. Europe should lie in the center? Still why don't we call it Central?? Ok!! But why doesn't he simply call Europe as Europe?? Is it simply because several Indians think anything abroad other than Asia Pacific Region as west?
The next thought, as I write this is something as trivial as you can think of. Last Sunday, the 8th of MAY was dedicated to Mother''s day and TOI carried a feature covering "Celebrity Mothers Speak" And now that we are discussing Germany, I was reading the feature of young mother, actress, and wife, Kajol's love for travel and her trip to Germany when she screeched "Hail Hitler..!" My Instant reaction was How could She hail Hitler, the man whom the nation despised?? And that coming from a Lady of the reputation as "WELL READ". As the dust settled down, I realised that she is just like any of us except that her profession is acting and she acts well, Still why do we rave and rant about all film stars and Cricket Stars?? they are pursuing their profession and why are raising them on to the pedestal of Demigods??
Now back to GJ and AR. I just cant understand the LoL syndrome. I think every second line has a LOL to it if you happen to visit her profile. what is it about it that we are so gung ho about using Kewl, Kool, dude, blast..and I cant think of more ?? Are we facing an abject poverty of a good vocabulary?
And lastly, I am lurching to find out why this incessant feeling that the conversation sounds like of a wannabe? Do you think it does not matter to me if you wonder I am taking a dig at this girl or if you think the same way as I do...!! well it really matters!! atleast today it matters because I found the first person following my blog! And I am exhilarated..!!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Psychobabble: Love Strategy

Psychobabble: Love Strategy

The Man, Whom I never looked for...


My earlier experiences at work began with a stint in recruitment. I was sorting through the profiles I had received, and I was reading the cover letter of some one seeking prospective employment. He had written to me an interesting brief about himself giving a quick highlight of his experience and skills. (for the lesser known, he was a techie and was looking at something in a technical role)

It was not until I reached the second paragraph, that I found my funny bone being put into a good use. It read like this

"...so, would like to conclude this e-mail with a note that with all my expertise and qualification, I would like to mention that I am the man you are looking for."

Well, I read it and re-read it just to make sure that it was not some sort of a joke by any of my friends just trying a prank on me. It was no joke, The guy was seriously exploring opportunities and he had meant to write that our search for someone in that role could perhaps end with him.

PS: I was not searching for anyone and he is not the one and he could never have been the one for me!!

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Heal the world...!

If I can borrow a few lines from MJ, Then I would have go all over again and sing

"Heal the world..Justify Full
Make it a better place..
For you and for me and for the entire Human race...."

First let me tell you, what prompted me to write this. It happened last afternoon when I was taking my tea break, about 2 hours after a not so heavy lunch in the pantry which has a series of tables in two rows and a hall way leading to a heavy wooden door. Walking out of the dark wooden door leads to a small patio with one table for six on the left and another on the right. This patio could have earlier served as a smoking zone but after the ban on smoking in public places it serves as an extended pantry.

The rule of the pantry is that any one using the table inside or in the patio will leave their plates, spoons, glasses or Pizza cartons or Pastry cartons or any thing else near the sink. The ladies in the house keeping can wash all the dishes coming into the bin and they deserve more than a mention here.

On the right table, there were a bunch of guys who were talking GOD-KNOWS-WHAT!! But when they decided to leave there were two of them who were still hanging there. One of them had a tea cup in his hand and when they chose to leave, the guy with the tea cup stopped mid way and abrupt. He stood as if he recalled something and Good Heaven help, I do not know what he was reminded of(probably he forgot, for that minute to be the chauvinistic pig that he was.. and as if he suddenly recalled to be that and just that) to walk back to the table and left the cup behind that he had carried it half way through..

I was just about to call him back to remind him off his forgotten cup behind, but he was gone. I still give him the benefit of doubt, if he was a newbie and if he did not know the rules of leaving it in the bin. But to see every body else carry their cups and plates to the bin and still not know about it is a sin. On the other hand, if he thought carrying the cup was below his dignity, then shame on him!!

High time we learn, to respect the ladies in the housekeeping. High time we learn, to respect dignity of labour.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Charminar Express(ion)!!


It was unplanned and unscheduled visit to Chennai. The opportunity just came by and one tiff with my beloved, I had grabbed this with both my hands. I thought of this as a welcome break. We patched up the next morning but the same evening was when I was supposed to be starting to Chennai. As a striking contradiction, I wished I had let go off it, I wished I did not have to travel, I wished he joined me, and somehow, I expressed how much I wished for his company.

So our travel was bundled with a lot of hassles, But I guess anything that comes with a tag like this, the experience remains invaluable. This experience is something I would cherish forever.

I have always liked things to be easy and uncomplicated. I hated anything tough. I liked all that and more that was feminine and graceful. Inspite of it, there was some overlap somewhere , there was some conflicts on certain occasion. Suddenly, an overwhelming liking for all complicated gadgets and gizmos, more the number of keys, more complicated it looks, more the liking and then a complete U turn back to the old normal of all things simple and easy. So, as always, Travelling by train was not something that I looked forward to(If I recall my memories of being a little girl, Trains were huge, lengthy, noisy, The steps to get to the platform in a railway station, the running around that all the elderly folks did there to confirm the platform and et all) It had left me a little scarred and I was particularly not fond of trains. For reasons I do not know I had not spoken a word to a single soul of me being scared of trains. As I grew up, I overcame this childish fear but overcoming it was not like looking forward to travel by trains.

On that evening, As I waited for the train, all the nerve cells to my brain sent no signals other than those mind boggling hundred thousand doubts. When this girl who was supposed to be actually travelling on a planned trip had to back off on certain emergencies, I had, in a quick fraction of a second agreed to travel. Indian railways do not allow for transfer of tickets, so we had taken the liberty to exchange our person in being exclusively for that travel.
I had borrowed her DL, her PAN card and there was no question of any mistaken identity. I was her during this travel. But the problem lie with my head, It refused to accept me as anybody else other than myself and thats when all these doubts was scattered over all my brains. No, I did not let this affect my alter identity. I boarded the train and dug my nose into my book. I was reading RK Narayan's "The English Teacher". Thanks to RK, I was not in the train and my thoughts were now revolving beyond these identity issues. I was transported into Krishna's (the protagonist in the book) world. I was with his wife. I had been with them to look for the house, I was with his wife Susila when she was stuck up in the lavatory behind the house. I went to the temple with them on the way back until the TC came and interrupted me for the ticket. I handed over the print -out of the ticket that belonged to the alter me. I was just trying to gather all my courage to present the alter ID s if in case, the TC asked for the identification proof. When, the TC was mapping this ticket with some pad he was carrying, my mind was thinking at a speed faster than the speed of light travelling. I was thinking, if only I had not agreed to go, If only I could have exchanged this with my husband and he was on train and I was on Bus, Then as an enlightenment, It had also realised in the same second that because of his gender he cannot be travelling on a ticket issued to someone in the other gender. In that instant, as much as I hoped, the TC just handed back my e-ticket and walked away. I just sighed!!

Just when I was about to get back to my book, my cell phone rang. It was a call from one of my best friends who lived in the North America Region. As I spoke to her, there was a lot of disturbance owing to all the people around chatting and chattering aloud, the noise of the engine, the wind that came from the windows, the breeze certainly was feeling very pleasant on my fatigue kissed face but it made a very disturbing noise in the phone affecting the quality of our conversation and the clinking of the metals, My mind was racing on a different tangent this time, Essay writing some how in school begins with "My train journey..." "My first Train experience.." and this was invariably the first essay when the school re-opened after summer vacation.

As I continued to talk to her, I noticed that the man sitting opposite to me never seemed to be satiated with what ever he ate. He bought something from every vendor who passed our seat. He first bought masala roasted butter cashews and as he munched on it, he seemed to enjoy every bite of it. Then he bought a packet of Lays. It did not seemed to gratify his hunger. The signals were getting weak and strong, weak and strong, so my cell also got disconnected and then we had to reconnect dialling again until we thought it best to hang up. But my curiosity took the better of me and I continued to watch him without him being aware that he was watched.

He bought some cherries next. I presume he wanted something spicy next and he laid hands on some masala roasted peanuts. It was dinner time, The guy in uniform came over to take the order. I ordered Phulka. It looked to me that the man was impressed with my order and he ordered phulka too. I suddenly wanted to get back into the company of Krishna and Susila. RK's book was calling me and I reopened it again. But I had to pause when my cell beeped again, this time indicating me I was running on low battery. At the end of the compartment was a twisted socket, I managed to plug the charger into it and as it was getting charged, I could not afford to connect with Krishna and his wife for the fear of someone stealing my cell. I kept a watch over it from where I sat, on the edge of my seat. It was dinner time, I was served phulkas and I had disconnected my cell from charging any further and I started executing the phulkas, by the close of it, people on board were making arrangements to rest and sleep. As the lights were getting turned off, I realised for sometime I had to bid adieu to Krishna and his wife.

As I continued to let the breeze flow into my face, I felt someone gently tap my back and I opened my eyes to see an young woman in an yellow saree asking me If I could shift to the upper berth as she had a little daughter and that she preferred the two lower berths that she could attend to her daughter deep in the night. Some overwhelming emotion took over me and I agreed. As much as I dislike anything not easy, climbing on to the upper berth on the side was something I disliked and I did exactly that which I found very appalling, climbed with a great difficulty bearing my weight under me and slept. The woman in yellow was very courteous to offer me a blanket which I accepted most gracefully.

I woke up a couple of times in between hoping it would soon become morning and I would soon get off the train. I realised some one tapping me lightly while I slept and I woke up with a start. The lady in yellow told me she would get off the train in the next station and the rest I realised and handed back her blanket. I looked out of the window and the sun was rising. I saw the time on my Aspen watch when it showed 6.05 Am, I am generally not an early bird and so to wake up and just watch the sunrise was an experience in itself. When the train was just a little before Bhasin bridge, I called my husband and he was reaching central bus stand.

When the Train reached Chennai Central and as I got off the train, I went back on the memory lane of the essays on train and it dawned on me that no matter how many times you travel on Train, the last train experience can be as good as your first train experience. No surprise then, that many movies in India has a tryst with trains and the twist in plot could be brought about by the train!! Long Live Indian Railways..!!


Thursday, April 29, 2010

When I lost a bit of me...!!

There are a number of things that we own, cherish and derive satisfaction from. At all times, we feel great joy from these things that we call it as "OURS". If a small sapling that we sowed in the earth blossoms into a nice plant that flowers and then fruits, Why is that we draw great inspiration from it? Why is it that we feel such an elation about it?
If some one has ever created anything, there is the an overwhelming pleasure that one derives from their creation. I can imagine what it must be for the likes of Mastero AR Rehman or Ustad Zakir Hussain. What could it have been for the Wright brothers who built the first air craft? What could it be for the artisan who has sculpted his sculpture? The way he handles it displays not the finest craftsman ship but displays the love, the passion and the delicateness with which he has created it. He may have favourites amongst all his sculptures but the same tenderness of affection remains with all his creations.
There is a jubiliation that every child feels about a small picture that he makes, the small craft that he/she makes. The delight that a little girl experiences about the dish that she creates. The euphoria that a mother experiences after her new born. Every body goes through this divine sense of exultation with any form of creation.
So the desolation is quite understandable, when their creations are either destroyed or lost or tampered. It is not a little wonder why there was so much hate mail against the remix of the orginal numbers. When these creations become a part of them the grief turns into a misery. So, How does one overcome this sense of despair that comes with a loss of their creation? I don't know if it helps just to own up and say "I lost a bit of me..."?!?

Friday, April 23, 2010

My tryst with RIGHT ya WRONG??

I visited Madame's Saloon again, This time not for any service but I owed her the money, The remaining Rs320/- that I had to pay her. I was extremely upset with Madam. I had already cribbed to a couple of my friends and had earned their sympathy but I was still unhappy as I believed that Madam had ruined my skin, all the suppleness had just vanished. What else could I expect if she rubbed my face with that stone like thing that i felt on my face.. So I decided to tell her that I was terribly upset, dissatisfied and unhappy. I rehearsed a couple of times, What I would tell her and how I would tell her, But when i reached there, I forgot my rehearsed lines and I told her what came thus.." Aunty, I had to pay this money.. However, I feel that I have already paid enough for the kind of service that I received. I am very displeased about this..."
Before I could continue, Madam interrupted.. "No Ma.. How can you tell that..?" I am surprised, You can check in the whole of Erragadda about Madame's Parlour.. Every body knows about this place. I dont do any thing for money. How can you claim that it is not good???..."

And slowly, I tried to pitch in "Aunty, I just told you what I felt, here is the money..."
Madam was furious.."No Ma, I dont need your money, I dont care about your money. You know, The IAS officer(I forgot the name that Madam mentioned) comes here and she is so happy, Then that University Vice Chancellor(another name that I forgot) comes here and recommends everybody here. I do so much charity maa.. This parlour is not any means for my livelihood. God has given me enough ma.. I dont need your money.., You know the famous Gyanecologist in Hyd( Madam never missed the names but being new to this place, let alone the name of Gynec, I even forgot the name of the hospital that she dropped), She visits me here and quite satisified. You are the only one who thinks of it as not a good service. "
Not enough, she brought the old diary where I had scribbled my name and Number and what I paid and what I owed..Somewhere, in the other part of it were some testimonials. She started turning out the pages, See ma.. See for yourself.. She held some page to my face, There was something written like what did not work for one of the visitors at Labelle worked for her at Madame's) I started feeling a little miserable, If all of that pain was something if only I imagined, If she had done a neat job though her process was a deviation from the regular process followed everywhere.. I held to my stance and replied.."Aunty, I do not want to be seeing any testimonials, Perhaps they felt that way but I told you the way I felt.."

I could see Madam was visibly upset, her voice was a little shaky. She replied "Thank you Ma.. Thank you.. You have told me what you felt ..and you have paid me.. "She was thrusting the money back into my hand which I had intially tried thrusting into hers and when she refused to take it, had tried placing it on the shelf near the mirror. She was saying "Have done so many free services, I donate so much to charity..." I cut her immediately, I also do enough charity aunty, I am a volunteer with UNICEF, I volunteer for Green peace.., It is not about charity, It is about the way i felt about the service. The girls did a shabby job on my leg, I showed it to you that same day, It did not look like I had gone through a pedicure..."
Madam cut me to say, "Don't blame the girls ma.. They also do very well, They stayed in late for your sake..."
Madam was still talking.., I could not handle it anymore, I said "Aunty, I only gave you my feedback, But I did not mean to be hurting you.. I only intended to tell you the way I felt.."
Madam said "That is enough ma.. you have given me the feedback, Thank you very much...That is enough, that is more than enough..But I do not want the money" When I tried shoving the notes in her hand, she further replied, "Please ma, leave.. If you want you can throw it outside, But Am not going to take this.. You have hurt me..Please.." Madam was in tears.
I was confused, I was unsure what I should be doing next. I was feeling very sorry. I should have perhaps paid and left instead of giving a feedback. I replied "Am really sorry Aunty, at this age if I should be hurting you, I dont mean to do that, I happened to tell you only what I felt,.."
Madam interrupted me and said "You are like my daughter, go raja go.. You came late, I agreed to do everything that you needed, any where else you go, they charge you for every thing..I only thought, If my daughter asked wont I do..? I treated you like my daughter, You are still like my daughter, You can come whenever you want again, I will still service you.. Go now girl. Go Home. Dont worry! am not upset..You leave raja..."

Walked out, feeling more miserable than I ever thought wondering what to do with that money. I decided I will channel it to some right cause, And I have kept that aside to direct it towards community service..

But to think of it, I dont know if I hurt Madam really?? In case I did, Was I not justified in doing so.. What more could I do when all I got was instructions for someSelf Service..?? We all go in for spas and saloons to feel nice and pampered, Was I not justified when all I went through was the agony of rubbed and scrubbed and bleached...? I am still confused!! Could I have dealt differently? Was there a need for me to hurt the Old Madam..?? Could I have just left the money with her, Thanked her and left??
Sometimes, I feel What I did was right and sometimes wrong...? Right ya Wrong???

Thursday, April 15, 2010

My experiment with TORTURE...

Sometimes, It so happens that you get so used to some things and some people, you just can't do without them. I used to be a regular at Lakme and there was either Kasturi or Sukanya who were expert in their own domains or areas(like Sukanya always did my facials, Kasturi took care of manicure and pedicure) It had been sometime since I visited a saloon for various reasons, locating one in my current region, the distance, the time available, cost etc and etc. I do not know what came over me, I ended up going to an indegenous parlour, one which was just besides the hospital at the end of my house. I have made a couple of such trips to few such parlours in the past and some of them were pretty okay, while few were a little stuffy, and a few others were as good as it can get, But my recent experience at Madame's parlour was an experience to remember.

Madam has two girls working for her, Heena and Sangeetha. Heena was assigned to do the pedicure and Sangeetha was assigned to do the facials.
Heena and Sangeetha were upset with me that I had gone in too late and they were supposed to be leaving and they had this additional assignment coming their way which their Madam had asked them to attend to before they left, so they must have been secretly cursing me for walking in too late. I apologised and suggested that I come in tomorrow but Madam thought that was unnecessary. Madam had made the decision, so both Heena and Sangeetha had to make necessary arrangements to go back late that day.

It seemed like, My apologies to Heena and Sangeetha would not have meant anything to them. I let things presume and they took to their jobs but I had a problem. I did not want my brows to be done after the facials. It looked like, this request of mine was causing more inconvenience to them that they had to shift roles. So Sangeetha reversed roles with Heena and set up to begin the pedicure process. Heena started with my brows. Madam was monitoring Heena, asking her to pull a hair out there, extend the angle a little, give a stretch to the edge. They made it appear to me like the most veteran doctor trying to bring in that practical learning to a new intern under careful scrutiny of her eyes. As the daunting task of facials began and so also my woes begin.

As they started rubbing my skin, I felt the smell familiar. I was confused, as to tell or to not tell.." Even as i thought, I blurted "I hope that is not a Bleach". Heena was too taken aback and there was no time to think and she honestly and promptly replied "It is a bleach Maa'm!" I said "I do not want a bleach please..!" Heena was confused. That was the regular process in their facial procedure.. and I was requesting her to stop the bleach. She sought her Madam "Madam, She does not want bleach.." Madam was not impressed with this. She chose to negate Heena's statement without replying anything. I resisted again and said "Please.. I have never bleached except for my marriage and I dont like Bleach ..." I pleaded further to stop the bleach.

Madam intervened this time like a session Judge trying to control a furious defendant in the witness box. She said with a sense of authority and control "It is not bleach.. Its a cleaning agent..!!" I dont know why I shut up and kept quiet when in my mind I was still yelling like a wailing child.."I dont care what it is but I dont want it.." I had no idea why it never saw a voice..I Kept mum and they had in the meanwhile packed my face with that bleach. Madam had instructed the intern to leave it as it is for 5 mins and stepped aside. I took this opportunity to plead with Heena to remove the bleach. It was even less than 2 and half mins and Heena obliged and started removing the white bleach pack from my face. Madam returned back with a faster pace than with what she started and quizzed "..started taking it out.. 5 mins up..??" I gathered Heena found it difficult to lie but some how managed a half lie.. "Yes Madam.. only 4 Mins but our lady here wants it to be removed.." Madam, was not very happy with it and she asked Heena to wait for another minute and so it was removed after another long minute.

Sangeetha was rubbing my legs around my calf muscles, and I had my eyes closed but It was very hard on me and felt as though she was rubbing my legs and claf muscles with rocky sand. Then, The same procedure of rubbing on my face began, this time around Madam herself was doing all the rubbing on the face as Heena came from a very conservative family and she could not afford to be leaving any later than 7.40 PM, while this happened the rubbing on the legs also continued with in between scrubbing on the feet, Suddenly, there was this realisation of the truth that this experience on the leg was a little tolerable. My eyes still remained closed, and the rubbing on the face began to feel worse! In my mind's eye, It seemed like Madam was rubbing my face with a pumic stone, I was struggling and once in a while pulling away my face, feeling like a chicken upside down hanging on the hangar of the moving cycle. I was letting out some Ah.. s and wooh..s hoping to hint the Madam that she was hurting me. There was no steaming, no black head or white head removal process but my mind could not afford to think any of these things. All that I could think was when it could get over. The rubbing continued, only this time with the application of some greenish paste. I thought it must be some home made bleach. My face was burning and it was a torture, I Imagined myself in a cell 8*6, It was a little big or no bigger than that, and there I was in the Jailer's hands who refused to get off me. I made a small litlle prayer and I wanted to be released. My prayer was answered and I was released. The paste was all over my face. Madam left me alone. By then, Sangeetha had left too when her brother had come to pick her up. I was so distressed that she had left behind her a very shabby job on my legs.

I was all alone in this cell, My thoughts began to run awry, Nothing else mattered to me other than my escape from here. Madam had covered my shoulders with a towel. I used the same towel to wipe off that paste on my eyes and some tit bits of it had managed to enter my eyes also. With great difficulty, I opened my eyes and took a view of my cell. I guaged the cell once again to plan my escape. My plan was ready but was not sure about the execution of this well made plan. I was beginning to feel like one of the woman Protagonists in Sidney Sheldon's books that I had read in my school. I decided to get the feel of the environment before I flew. I got up from my non -reclining recliner and saw myself in the mirror. I looked like a terrorist with some green paste all over my face, who can just pass off in the forest completely un noticed. I cared less for the way I looked because I was planning the escapede. As my gaze landed further down to my legs in the mirror I realised the missing Pyjamas, courtesy my pedicure. I reasoned, It was still Ok as I had a long kurta on thankfully, and moreover with the green paste no one would recognise me. The other good thing was my house was just around the corner. So I decided to stuff that Pyjama in my bag and walk out. Next, I had to unplug the charger of my mobile and disconnect the connection. I thought I would do that just before I walked out. I decided to check if I would catch any attention if I tried walking away from that chair where I sustained all of that torture. It was some sort of a rehersal for me before the actual attempt. So I walked into the loo, I peed with some caution to avoid some unnecessary noise. I walked back to my chair. One last problem, If I encountered this, I would be gone. The last problem was the biggest problem, It was my bike that I had parked inside the compound. No matter, how silently would I unplug the charger or how quickly I can stuff my Pyjamas in or If I stealithly walked out even beating the most stealithiest of the cats, My problem was the bike. I was scared the moment I start the bike, the noise it would make and would be caught a Red-Handed-thief slipping out.

I considered the other option to push it out but If I did not start but pushed it stealithly out of the compound then what if I got Stuck at the gate, lost balance with the bike while trying to push open the gate and fall down much to my embarassment. It might also be possible that if i pushed it, given that I did not have the luxury of time and what If Madam came down looking for me..

I had one idea, which was not very appealing as there was a dependency. I knew my husband would be back home, So If I called him and asked him to come down with the duplicate key and silently, stealthily take away the bike then I would quicly walk out. He was just a call away but there might be an unending list of questions that might come as to why he should come over and stealhily take the bike away. While I was still looking at options to solve this one last Problem, Madam was back. I suddenly became an obedient student of this Madam. Madam then reviewed my face and then said "..moist the paste on your face with some water, do a little rubbing and then wash off your face..." I was getting angry, I came here for a service and was not in for self- service, If I had to wash off this pack. I still obeyed like a good student and walked into the wash room, without any rubbing or scrubbing just washed away all the paste.

I was back, in my eagerness to get away, I never reminded her about the steaming or removing the white heads. But Madam had a different take on my face.."See, you are Glowing..no white heads, nothing..So clear!!.." she commented.

I still had the need to express some dissatisfaction, now with that comment on my face.. I only remarked, " My nails are very dirty, My legs look like they need a pedicure, It does not look like it got one.." Madam replied with great pride" the girls used the same pack that was used on your face.. it is just that it has gotten under your nails.. I still agreed to disagree with her that the pedicure was good enough. I did not want to go through another self service for cleaning my nails. But I had no stamina to fight back, I decided to pay and leave.

Madam charged me 620 rupees. While I dressed up and packed, Madam suggested that I should come in for figure correction. I said " Am Fine Aunty.. I dont need any correction..!!" I was very assertive. She laughed a dry laugh and said "Fine?!??.. U are Fine??..." I replied.."Yes, Am fine.. " I have no idea, suddenly where this courage came from. Madam mellowed down and said.."Yes, you are ! Only that you will look more beautiful if you came in, we will make you look very toned." I said "No Thank You"

To my dreaded embarassment, I was not carrying enough money. I paid her 300/- and told her that I live in the apartment just around the corner and insisted she note my number. Madam handed me a diary and I quickly scribbled Paid -300, To pay-320. Mobile number-**********. Madam did not seem to mind this too much. I decided I would pay her up the next morning before I left to work and vowed never to step in there after that.


Sunday, April 11, 2010

Going back on the Bangalore Lane...!!

It has been a fantastic experience growing up in Bangalore... ! Having been born here and raised here, the earliest that my memory serves me was vastly vacant spaces, soundly serene, many lakes, chirping birds of all kinds including sparrows and cuckoos.

The working population largely comprised of engineers in PSU's like HMT, BHEL, BMEL, ITI,or organisations like ISRO, HAL, NAL or doctors who were private consultants or worked in Bigger Hospitals, Professors, Readers, lecturers and a couple of lawyers. It was a sight to see the buses of these organisations in the early hours of the morning and employees working here would wait at the designated pick up points with newspapers in their hand discussing the headlines. Men and women were dressed in their uniforms would leave early and return back early. If it was not any of these, you would have had them working in the banks or schools.

Bangalore had lesser vehicles, lesser waiting at traffic signals, lesser pollution and more trees and more green. The densely populated areas in the erst while Bangalore was Jayanagar, Basavangudi, Malleshwaram and a few more areas like chickpet, cottonpet, MG Road etc.

Cash Pharmacy on Residency Road, India Coffee house on MG Road, Cantonment were some of the noteworthy landmarks then.Some of the oldest reputed colleges are St Jospeh's college, National College, MES College, Mount Carmel College.

MG road was a ncie hub to catch up on and have nice stroll while Basavangudi or Malleshwaram was the place to savour some nice south Indian traditional savouries or rich Coffee.

It is worth mentioning the growing up watching the Saturday DD when they would be playing a hindi movie and the Sunday DD played a nice kannada movie. Dr. Rajkumar, Dr.Vishnuvardhan, Shankar Nag and Anant Nag had a knack with their acting and they made movies which was truly appealing and truly entertaining. It was when radios still had a pre dominant place in the life of Bangaloreans If one tuned into the radio station they would hear, "Idu Akashavani...Vaartegulu..Odutiruvavaru...."...". or they would have heard "Idu Vividhbharati, Vanagiya prasara kendra Bengalooru..."

Those were the days of the early Bangalore until things gradually begin to change with the growing number of Malls and usual sight of felling trees, the high rise apartments, half dug roads making way for Metro trains, Congested traffic, rising mercury, floating population and increasing pollution.

But there is always something to Bangalore, its warmth, its culture, its people, its openness.There are somethings in life that changes and in mine too marriage took me to Hyderabad but the calling will always remain with Bangalore. Among a thousand things that I miss Bangalore, a couple of them worth its mention is the Cauvery water(Ah!! so sweet it is.. Someone once told me Vijay Mally's Beer beats any beer in the world as the water used for their processing is but Cauvery water), Rangashankara, The chat street that we had named it as for our local mouth watering delicacies. Davangere benne dosas... Ahh!! Miss Bangalore!!

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Welcome to the Rock Station!!


Hello, This is Captain "AshesofRoses" here... You have just landed at the Rock Station. The temperature out here is 40 degrees and the night seems to be warm. Thanks for choosing to fly with imemyvoice.com. we wish you a pleasant stay here... Have a great day. Thank you.

:-) Well.. That was on a lighter note walking you through a brief introduction to Hyderabad. It is almost three and half months since I moved to Hyderabad. If I take the liberty to personify this city, For some odd reason, I feel this city is masculine by gender and his temperament is easy and comforting. When I moved, I still had a very strong affliction to my own place and bidding it good bye and settling in any other new city could have been a big deal for any body. But, Just like the male species which is smitten with love or infatuation, call it what you may but has its best behaviour on till they hook on the targeted female..ditto, it was very courteous, appealing and appeared safe.

I liked the Biryani, the irani Chai, the mirchi bajjis, cut bajjis, pappu, mughlai pan, Hussain Sagar lake in the center of the city, Eat street on the bank of the lake(eating here late evening with nice cold breeze) seemed very romantic. So much to visit, so much to explore.. much beyond Barristas, coffee days and Java city. From shilpa Ramam to Lumbini Gardens, The dance-show boat ride, Laser show, NTR gardens, Krishna Rao Park, Birla Mandir. And still there is enough and more to explore, Durgam cheruvu to Dola Re Dann, Golkonda fort and Ramoji Film city.

Now that I mentioned Film city, This is a film crazy city. People here are movie buffs. I freaked out the first time when I realised people here can watch a movie at Rs. 25. No! am not April-Fooling. The city might be having the highest number of theaters in my estimation. I was a pillon rider and suddenly we passed across a theater which read balcony Rs. 25. All baffled, I told my husband what my eyes had just seen but could not believe and my husband added more to it, My ears heard more than it could sink, He said "Don't be surprised, people here can watch a movie for Rs15/-" . Wanting to share this amazing peice of information, I called a few friends of mine and told them about what I saw, keeping what I had heard to share it in person... and they were equally confused leading them to think real-out-of-the-box. One of them suggested, "..Guess you could not have seen the digit 1 before 25, The price must be Rs.125/- but your eyes must have caught sight of only 25.." Well thats Rock Station for you..!

I think it has been long since I kept you wondering why the name "Rock Station"?? well, You understand a "Hill Station" There are these hills of various dimensions and shapes- Small, big, huge, short and high, there is a plenty of nature cultivated plantation which keeps the place so chill and cool. Now for some contrast, One can find huge rocks, boulders and other huge forms of naturally formed and petrified matter here. It gets heated by the Sun and emits a lot of heat and making its surrounding very hot. Hence the name Rock Station.

While I talk about heat, emission of heat, it is transporting me back to my days in college of my plus two. The first thing learnt in chemistry was enthalpy, With any reaction emitting heat into the environment keeping the pressure constant.. So before chemistry begins to rock me, let me leave you here, before I come back to the Rock Station again...!

Sunday, April 4, 2010

with Love.. from both of us..

Agony aunts.. , Dr Cupid and hot line counselors.... No offense to anyone. I dont know how many sought advice. I have no clue how many lives saved. I have no idea how many relationships worked.. ! But I definitely found the all-in-one in Him. No false babas, matajis ..NO! NO!! I dont trust them.. have never trusted one..

But to trust in Him, Sir, You(the good looking man in tees and jeans, with Black berry and Ray-Ban, )taught me.

You practised what you taught. To let go, to believe, to trust and to build.

I would not be surprised, if he gave many a men a complex and I would not be surprised if they hate him for it. It would not be surprising if many others hold you in awe for it.

Whatever, I think I can't write more as I fall short of words for this tall old man who helped me and my husband build our relation by trust , by forgiving, and to build by being a compliment to each other. We still have a long way to go, but our building blocks have been set in place by unblocking those blocks in building relationships, which we owe it to him who helped us believe in HIM.

If this world had more people like him...Then, May be i would have not been writing about this good old smart man who along with his wife have set a living example..

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

There is something about Spitting!!

Does "SPIT" ever fascinate you?? What a crazy question huh??? Well, Every kid on the block.. Rich Kid, Poor kid, Good Kid, Mischievous kid, Bad Kid... have this strange fascination for the deliberate saliva forced out which travels out at a speed or velocity that depends on this ever-wonder SPIT. If its about the shape of the spit that reaches the earth then it has a slower velocity, if it is the distance covered then it has a higher velocity!!

Besides the acceleration at which it is driven, There is something about SPIT that has not spared even the creative directors of Hollywood. If you recall spitting had a prominent space in James Cameron's Titanic where Leonardo Di Caprio teaches Kate Winslet how to spit. If you recall how she had mastered this art of spitting that she demonstrates on Billy Zane, the very over bearing fiance' of Kate Winslet.

SPIT has a greater relevance in some parts in our country, If it never occurred or if one never realised, then one should definitely make a visit to some public places like the railway station, bus stands, Certain corners in Government Offices, Stair cases of Old Stone Buildings owned by the Government, Public Toliets which carry a trade mark "Red colur" in variety of shapes and sizes. It is unmistakably the Pan/Supari stain of the spit.

It is one thing that can stir various emotions depending on what kind of experience one has with Spit. Possibly, anybody would be fuming with anger if they happened to be travelling on a two wheeler besides an overloaded bus on a bumpy road when some one in the bus stretches a bit towards the open window and "SPAT!!!" goes it, straight on the shoulders balancing the two wheeler.

There was this funny instance when it was really hilarious that while travelling on A/c train with closed windows the man on the opposite tore open a packet and emptied the contents of the pack into his palm and grinded it a little with his right thumb and then poured back the embellishment on his palm into his mouth and as he began to chew and relish, the foam like red spit began to accumulate in the corners until his whole mouth bloated and bloated and bloated till there was no room for further bloating until it either spilled out or he spat out. One could see the misery on his face when he could not spit it and tried hard from letting it spill. While struggling between the two he made a visit to the lavatory on the train when he must have been so relieved.

If that was the actual act of spitting, in few other parts of the country the sound of it discounting the act translates to describe some thing dirty.. "THOO... THOO!!" "YEH THOO.."
Having come from a state where it is extensively used, I remember instances that in order to inculcate a feeling of Shame and Embarrassment to little kids who refused to wear their Knickers the older siblings or the other family members would say "Thoooo... Aiyyaiyya... Shame shame...Thooo....!!" and drive them into a habit of having these kids slipping on into their knickers.

If one can recall the publicity campaigns by Infosys to stop men from letting their stream of trickle against walls, compounds and here, there and every where had set up their Nirmal Shauchalaya.. had little kids on the hoardings and boards saying "Chee........Thoo.. Aiyaiyya....." to drive men to keep the city clean and use the public toilets.

If this is what a "Thoo' can do, then no wonder why spit holds so much Pre- dominance in this country and it continues to live here....