Chaos Reigns

2011-09-19T16:27:00.001+05:30

The arrogance quotient of the world goes up due to one single set of people. MBAs - aspiring, WIP and finished goods. And the contribution per person comes down exponentially. Due to same set of people. Inspiration and Disappointment come from the same bunch.

It's in the air!

2011-09-12T23:55:00.000+05:30

They are always the same spots. The foundation. The soon to be invisible bases, arm twisted into the right position. And then slowly camouflaged. In authenticity. With love. In myriad colours. They will tell me stories. stories of a gone era or of a moment still, one music vibrant and the other, so soulful, words that one man wrote that have lived since, and will live forever. Of wondrous emotions and joy, walking around in starched cottons & white dhotis. Of sugary syrups, overflowing with conversation. Midnight tramps, everywhere. Lights and leisure, loafing around. Of ecstatic devotion and delirious love. The time of sales and dates. For the love of self. Mandirs, Pagodas, Voodoo style places. The beginning. It is Shringar time. The prime time of all good times in Kolkata. Pujo in the air.

2011-08-23T01:44:00.000+05:30

What does one week of heavy duty deadlines do to the class? Crazy statuses on, well, deadlines and MBA and life come up on Gtalk and FB. Else Alcohol flows. Eitherway no actual work gets done. Despite the deadlines. Week after week. And then they all live happily ever after? No, they just join work and face deadlines for deliverables.

2011-08-02T19:11:00.000+05:30

The wait, door ajar...

Memories, and dreams...

Light, behind the partition...

Prints, of a 100 people...

Happy? Could you ever be?

2011-06-30T01:31:00.002+05:30

The red and green swirls,
golden zaris and sparkling stones,
reflected in a 1000 mirrors!

Her own eyes,
hidden
behind the veil!

Cynosure?
The tawaif!

2011-06-30T01:21:00.000+05:30

One random evening, after his return from work,

Dad: Give me one reason why Jesus Christ could not have cleared IIT-JEE?
Me: (seeing the TIME flyer nearby) Because he didn't join TIME classes?
Dad: Because he was not born in Andhra!

*No religious disrespect of any sort meant whatsoever!*

2011-06-30T01:00:00.001+05:30

Sunsets and beaches
friends and summer
Ferries and rides
memories
Opportunities and Risks
hesitation
Forgotten promises
fear
Black gowns and red shoes
inexplicability
Raindrops on window panes
transience
Of curtain downs
closure
Chocolate sauce and Vanilla ice cream
sensousness
Starched cotton sarees
the Professor
Of phone calls unanswered
Of moments lost
Words unsaid
indecision
Of embers of the fire
Tip of a dying cigarette
Of swings, wounds and shared mango bites
A signature on a plain card
Impressions

A lone twig
You
And me...

Closure!

2011-05-15T01:55:00.002+05:30

The wipers swept across the windshield of the car, once in a while. This was unusual for this month, in this part of the world. Rains here were neither uncommon nor light. Hardly had the thought crossed his mind, when the skies opened up. The bolt of lightning split the sky into two, the dark clouds appearing out of nowhere, illuminated in that momentary flash of light. Like hope. On and off. The drops started to fall, one big drop at a time. The heat rose from the tarred road as the freshness of the raindrops soaked them, creating a mirage. Before the car had travelled another kilometer, the individually identifiable drops had become a steady drizzle, finally morphing into a continuous downpour.

“We are at Mannuthy Byepass sir! Do you want me to stop for a while?”

He turned around to ask if Unni wanted something to eat. But Unni was still asleep, fatigued by the long journey.

“No, continue driving please!”

He had always hoped that when the time came, he would die on the land that was his, one that he had roamed about on, as a child. He could picture everything even now. The roofs of his Tharavad, water dripping from the edges of their tiles. The tall coconut trees marking the borders of the land. The rubber estate beyond. The cardamom and tea. The smell of rains and wet earth. The wind in the hair as one walked down to school. The playground in the village. The football matches. The etherealness of the Bhagavathy temple and the regularity of the rituals there, every morning and every evening. The walks by the kulankara. Walking hand in hand. The alternating reds and greens of her mundu, the jasmine in her freshly washed, dense black curls, the kohl lining her dark eyelashes and the soft ring of her anklets. The steely pride in her eyes. The strength of conviction in her voice. The farsightedness of her dreams.

The sleek, slippery wet highways gave way to the muddy, pot hole ridden roads of his village. The car tyres splashed through the puddles that had formed everywhere.

“Make sure you don’t miss the right turn after the estate gates!”

“Yes sir!”

He remembered the last time he was at the Thrissur bus stand. The trunk packed with his few precious books, some handed over by his father and some more gifted by the Headmaster, fewer clothes and even lesser money. Her journey away, soon after. A career in the land of opportunities. Four decades. Meeting Jayadha, seeing Anup and Meera and holding them in his hands for the first time. The promotions. The travel. The snowfall, the multi colored landscape of several autumns. Of all those times, the freshest memories were those of the long ago days, of reading, discussing and debating – from Thakazhi Sivasankaran Pillai to Bertrand Russell, at college in Thrissur, with her.

The little cat purred and circled her feet impatiently, its tail held straight and high. The milk was just off the stove and she blew into it as she transferred it into the bowl and placed it close to the window sill. The grandpa clock chimed 5 and she turned around to see Kuttan at the kitchen door. Kuttan’s sense of timing was impeccable. He always knew when he wanted his food or when it was time for his evening walk. 8 years now, back at Thekkedath Mana. It had been several months after her choice to quit it all and move back, that the phone calls had stopped. They knew no offer could move her. They could only request for one of the most respected heads at the organization to be back. Advisory role, they said. But she had made her decision. Other tasks remained undone. Through those years of trying to change things, she knew the place missed her permanent physical presence. This evening though, Kuttan didn’t have to wait for her to come. She didn’t have any calls to make or people to visit.

“Punarapi jananam, punarapi maranam….” – MS’s divine voice echoed around the house, yet, she heard the whir of the car engine, all the way across the backyard. Kuttan beat her to the front door though.

Savithri Bhattathiripad and Velayudham Chekava. Ammu and Velu. The sun down embraced and carried with it, in its grainy mist, the last 45 years.

He had not found the courage until today. She knew and he knew too though, that they both had moved on. Well and truly. This visit was the closure.

“Appupa – Can I have the chakka pazham please?” Unni stood under the massive tree, his neck craning, eyes on the ripe jackfruit.

Glossary:

* Tharavad – Ancestral house in Kerala

* Bhagavathy – Female Goddess in Kerala

* kulankara – Literally, banks of a pond. Temples/Ancestral homes in Kerala have a pond attached to them

* mundu – Ladies apparel in Kerala

* Thekkedath Mana – Family houses in Kerala are identified by their names, carried over generations

*Appupa – Grandfather (Fathers’ father)

Ananya 2011

2011-03-12T01:38:00.002+05:30

Here you go folks - http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=109952795751641 Be there! Have Fun and Contribute to a cause! Buy tickets to the show online here (Website of Educate & Emancipate)

2011-02-07T02:01:00.001+05:30

In a daze... these nights and days...

2010-11-03T00:41:00.002+05:30

It is never this or that, right? It is almost always invariably this and that, and then you tear it away to create a this and a separate that!

2010-11-01T03:13:00.001+05:30

How difficult sometimes - the clash between your ideals and practical solutions. Between your strengths and your weaknesses bogging them down. Between what the heart wants and the mind refuses. Between what could be and what might not be! Between the effects of yesterday and the hopes for tomorrow! Between taking responsibility and merely complaining- how thin the borderline! And how much the courage required - to step over!

2010-10-12T02:45:00.000+05:30

I sent home a wall hanging - a red and golden art work of the Buddha under the Bodhi tree, a couple of days ago. A memento from a trip to Gangtok . And this is what Dad writes back:

"Buddha received and good to have a Buddha at home (instead of a Budhdhoo)!"

*Me Sighs, BIGTIME*

2010-10-01T00:02:00.002+05:30

Glaring lights,
Strange streets,

Shady company,
Weird moods,

A little stoned,
A wee bit drunk,

The hat, a round higher,
A heel, a turn lower!

2010-09-29T23:46:00.004+05:30

Blind. Irrational. Pillow pummeling. Teeth biting. Tantrum throwing. Mind numbing. Uncontrollably physically painful. Rage.

One September Evening!

2010-09-21T01:13:00.001+05:30

Victoria Memorial, Kolkata

One balmy evening... a long walk... a wild splash of green, in the middle of the city... the sight of a beautiful moon rise... a dedication to Lord William Bentinck... a troop(?) of fireflies... pebbled pathways... lamps and reflections... a customised Jaal Mori.... some Rabindra Sangeeth... some more walking... a set of sms exchanges that make you laugh... a 100 queries to 200 people to find the right bus and bus stand... a tug of war with the support handle bar in the (mini) bus... seemingly interminable traffic jams... Conversations with the Self...

Hers

2010-09-05T01:48:00.001+05:30

Ripped.
Torn.
Red.
Hanging on the line, in the wind.
Her wind cheater.

Magic!

2010-09-03T23:25:00.002+05:30

Sometimes, just sometimes
I seek no company
But for
The song of my soul on fire
Of a music, so warm
Of one love, so dense!
The reason is not just the season, for
That smog on the window pane!

Of snooze times!

2010-08-28T13:27:00.002+05:30

Working in the GMT zone for years when your physical location is IST zone can do wonders to your circadian rhythm. Yes, I knew that. Yes, I had read about that. But when do I feel its impact? When I have to rush to 9 AM classes every day of the week! Sigh! The times are tough!

2010-08-22T21:49:00.004+05:30

Right. I think, to be in the public eye is the solution for now. A list of resolutions coming up shortly.

Throwbacks!

2010-08-22T00:51:00.001+05:30

Lights! Sound! Camera! Rolling! And stopped...

The buck stopped, sometime ago... I used to wonder how band members could give up something they loved (music) when some members left the band.... I then realised, it's not just the music... it's the magic of compatible companionship... A confluence of divergent thoughts into a smooth mosaic..

I miss the 'On Duty's. The ten drafts that would be torn up for not being up to the mark. The final thirty minutes. The hurried running to the hostel to drape the saree. The legends on stage. The entry. The big bang impact. I miss that voice, the resonance from Amriteshwari Hall... a long time ago, from that past...The walk to the guest house... a riot of a dinner... the team... the photos...those times...

P.S. Probability that grammatical mistakes and issues in the use of some vocabulary would be found here = 1. (Again, a lesson learnt the hard way :P)

2010-08-17T17:58:00.002+05:30

I had consciously chosen to do a two year full time course rather than a one year or part time executive programme. To well and truly learn. To read. To fall in love with my favourite subjects all over again. To connect back with my books. With people and ideas. With the joy of discovery. With many many of those little things that so mattered to me once, once long back. A part of my learning through school, that I seem to have misplaced along the way. To reconnect with that teenager idealist who thought she could change the world. Not that it could not be done otherwise, but this would also pave the way for the next.

Now though, am not sure. Passion and Listening? Or CP? Or even worse, DCP? Will I live and die on the class room bench? I'd rather the library!

Or am I making a mistake?

Multitasking!

2010-08-15T23:08:00.002+05:30

I could do with a little more capacity - another brain, a couple more hands, a few more hours in the day...

Aami tomar sathe aasbo!

2010-08-09T00:02:00.002+05:30

Swathed in the flowing yellow fabric..

The vermillion, bright...

Your moods -

I am drenched, in your shine and showers..

The lines, and little curves,

I am a discoverer as I traverse them..

You hold me spell bound,

I walk along the lanes you lead me to,

The only direction I know...

The only sounds I hear, Everywhere,

the white and red, the bangles on your hands..

Your every structure, an amalgamation,

Temptress, you, I explore...

What is with all that green, banitā?

My loyalties, with thee lie,

I have waited, waited in those shadows,

All this while...

For this look, for this touch...

All ye, Behold, Behold my damsel!

Aami kothai jaai? Kolkata, oh beautiful Kolkata!

2010-06-14T22:48:00.001+05:30

God! Please help me check off more items from my To-Do list! Walking at night with the umbrella open even after the rain has stopped - can it get worse? *Shudder*

There are those and then there are those...

2010-05-07T01:47:00.000+05:30

If abstinence is what I think I should practise, the 'Logician' pops up... What if I stop myself from buying that expensive shirt because I feel guilty about the children and adults who don't get even one full meal a day? The store assistant loses a bonus which in turn might have helped her pay her maid which in turn will help the maid spend on food for her children!

And after all, all this debating happens in my own comfort zones.. where do we push its limits? All we do is talk, isn't it?

She works for them and with them. She spends her days in their midst, a lifestyle so close to their own for 5 days a week. Her days starting and ending with them. Her religious beliefs vaccilate with the pain she sees. Yet, she moves with ease in the elite crowds of the cosmopolitan, idioms and phrases and tongue twisting vocab are everyday language for her. She chooses her clothes with extreme care and invests in some of the most expensive brands of accessories...After all, all that matters is that she acts! Disbeliever or believer?

The child is running, running to catch up with the speed of the flight that's taking off without her...a "United" Nations flight that refuses entry to a black child.. the constant gardener...If she is lucky, she would make it to a refugee camp! Lucky indeed.. The tiny feet on the hot desert sand.. the effortless perceptive demeanour of the child... the courage...the resignation...and the question marks....

There is so much to do... so so much...

2010-04-22T00:57:00.001+05:30

How confusing can confusing get?

2010-03-30T21:57:00.003+05:30

Ever since my kitchen became 100% operational, I had this nagging doubt that my hand me down three generations style blender was waking up the entire colony, especially given the time of my cooking exploits. A recent conversation went like this:

Neighbour: Looks like you came in late from work yesterday!

Me: Yeah, it was kind of busy yesterday.

Neighbour: I knew you were cooking. I usually know when you are home and cooking. Old mixie I think. *Smiles*

Me: Errr... Hmmm... Yeah! *Sheepish*

Suspicion granted confirmed status!

In other news, Maggi (Atta) has officially replaced the canine, as a (wo)man's best friend! esp. after my plans to bring home the labrador went bust due to issues in logistics!

2010-03-18T12:15:00.001+05:30

It's a glorious evening. The setting sun, in all his splendour shines on the third floor balcony of my workplace. The horizon is filled with the vastness of the yellow sky, the reds and oranges thrown in for spice. I stop, stare and smile. A porcelain tea cup in hand, dressed in my 'elegant' formals.

The coconut trees almost double up in the winds. And without notice, it is suddenly a gentle zephyr. I lean on the parapet iron grill, the steam rising from my cup of tea on to my face carrying with them, a waft of the ginger and cardamom. The glass emptied, I walk down, just in time to see the sun taking a dip into the ocean.

He is playing hide and seek with our elephant mountain. We talk, laugh and watch in awe as he shines forth for a moment, illuminating our happy faces, with the moon in tow. And then he turns himself off. We continue to gossip, a too sweet for my taste tea in our ever-silver tumblers and straight from 'oil factory' bajjis for company.

The single ray makes its way from the west, through the open doors on to the verandah, a mere sliver falling on my study table in the room next. The smell of fresh Thulasi* entices me into walking up to the kitchen. The 'oh-so-hot-don't-drop-it' cup of tea - you knew only too well what I liked, didn't you Amma?

That fatal evening. The first tea I hastily brewed. It was for you. They said it would make you feel better. Did it? I don't know. I had never seen you in so much pain.

The yellow turns a bright vermillion and in a few breath-taking moments, it turns a dark blue. I leave the porcelain cup in the pantry and walk back to my desk.

I miss you Amma. Even if they are for my own selfish reasons. Even if they are for simple things like an evening cup of tea.

*Basil

Perspectives!

2010-03-15T19:16:00.002+05:30

She is an Indian Canadian, not just by upbringing but by genes too. He is an Indian American, with an African twist for the place of birth of parents. She is an Indian by birth and the rest of it too.

Her undergrad course was in English and Contemporary Studies, masters in Urban Planning. His UG was in the liberal arts, anthropology to politics. And masters? In Media culture. And next, onto Law School. She is an engineer by qualification.

She was on the Dean's List. He was the Student Government President. She barely scraped through her degree.

She has been to India several times, some on her own too. He had never been to India in 20+ years and the first time he came, he started work with the youth in the capital. He stayed for a year and came back for another. She? If you count a couple of days as something, she has set foot outside India for only so long. She and He have seen more of India than her.

Yet, when they talk, its like long lost friends. There is a certain music in the voice. The eyes shine. Heads nod. Ideas by the dozen. Experiences by the tonnes. Contemplation. Hope. Energy. Smiles. Courage. Conviction. Passion.

She and She - have met twice, and may meet again.
She and He - have met once and the future? No idea!

2010-03-10T22:44:00.002+05:30

KT- Knowledge Transition

2010-02-23T18:10:00.003+05:30

I think I should change jobs. I should be the author of the book titled - 'Remixed Recipes'! Target audience - the not-so-new cook who does not have all required ingredients at home and starts dinner preparation well past shop shut down timings! That should some bestseller! It's not original, but it's not bad either! If musicians can do it, why not me? Carrot Peas curry with Atta Maggi masala? A sweet from the 'Burfi' clan without one of the main ingredients (coconut)? That would be blasphemy at home! Been there, done that and people seem to like it too!

2010-02-15T12:37:00.003+05:30

"The given time slots for the counseling by CBSE are from 8 am to 12 noon, 12 noon to 4 pm, 4 pm to 8 pm, and 8 pm to midnight, where several counselors will be available for distressing the students."

De-stressing you mean?

http://www.dailypioneer.com/236113/CBSE-tele-helpline-made-toll-free.html

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Was talking to a friend this morning and I mentioned that I seem to be forgetting a lot of things, lately. Call over, I reached office, stood at the gate, fumbled in my bag and then walked up to the security cabin.

Me: I have missed my ID card. Can I have a duplicate please?

Security Guy: Mam, you are wearing it!

Blo*dy embarrassing, I tell you!

Update:
More than embarassing, it is getting very scary! This is positive proof that am either growing old or more absent minded or *shudder* both!

2010-02-14T14:36:00.003+05:30

A simply wow poem - in a dozen lines, she captures colours, thoughts and philosophy!

THE DAISY FOLLOWS SOFT THE SUN
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

THE daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"
"Because, sir, love is sweet!"

We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee,--
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
Night's possibility!

2010-02-14T00:08:00.009+05:30

Why does the media shoot itself on the head, with its own ammunition? Because it forgets that words are no longer its prerogative?**********************************************************************************
A bus conductor who actually smiled and said 'Thank You' when I used change to buy my ticket - Hell froze over for a minute!**********************************************************************************
The notice board at the entrance to the colony usually has some information about events, lost and found and so on and is maintained by the security guys. It was a rather pleasant surprise to see ' Have a nice day!' on it, yesterday!**********************************************************************************
Me and Haute Cuisine work like this:

Colleague 1: I did some Flambé stuff this weekend.
Me: What kind of a dish is that?
Colleague 1: #$$%%^
(Atleast, I guessed it was French!)

Colleague 2: I made Pasta this weekend.
Me: The Sunfeast pasta or the original one?
Colleague 2: #$$%%^
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She happened to mention over email that I always bring a smile, with my emails! The compliment had me stumped for a minute. And though I didn't tell her what my thoughts were (after effects of reading this), I have to confess somewhere - It isn't me dear! It is your great sense of humour and that quality of finding good in everybody! Me and short tempered (meaning, not exactly people friendly) used to be synonyms for a long time - I don't know if it has changed because of the very less opportunity provided to test it these days :P

2010-02-10T22:33:00.008+05:30

Loved Infinitea – was it the tea? the ambience? Or the company?**********************************************************************************
Came across this article when reading on Apple, Steve Jobs and stuff… For somebody who I imagined would get a high out of innovation, perfection, customer wows and aesthetics, I was rather disappointed when I read some parts of it!

Later thinking about it, 1) Why did I expect things to be either white or black? 2) Related to this post by V, didnt we put him on that pedestal and then expect him to live up to our idea of a great man? The flip? What is the authenticity of what I believe? Is genius eccentric? Or is that normal in their parallel universe? But that, that absolute marketing ability to make an expensive accessory a must have - What is THAT? I remember reading this somewhere - Steve understands desire!

The Perfectionism – something to aspire for and practice!

2010-02-09T21:07:00.004+05:30

There are loads more to post, or rather write! The ideas and experiences are in various stages of drafting - in my email drafts, on paper at home, recordings on the mobile, some draft sms's, some carry over notepad docs from last year!

I am afraid am letting go too soon of too many things!

2010-02-09T20:54:00.005+05:30

I think the company is ensuring that everybody gets their daily dose of exercise, whether they want it or not! First things first - I love walking, I mean LOVE...yes, even looong distances! But there are times when you need to rush to a meeting or get to that lunch appointment with your friend in the cafeteria in the next block, in reasonable time! It does NOT help that you have to climb up and down 80 steps, one way OR walk an extra kilometre (I am not sure how much it is, precisely) to get to the other surface level gate! Add to it, that the lift does not function for a day every month! Climbing up three floors after lunch? I dunnit! Well - NOW, I know why my weight is what it is! :P

Destiny?

2010-02-04T17:52:00.001+05:30

Maybe it isn't meant to be - that's what I have been told! I am, as yet, finding it extremely difficult to come to terms with that. I am not much of a believer in, 'If you deserve it, you will get it!'. If so, what does effort count as, I like to counter! There are always choices in life. Maybe the road that you walk on, once you make that choice, is predetermined. But the choice was yours. Just like the two roads that diverge in a yellow wood. Just like the end of that highway - if you take the left, you reach X, on the right, you reach Y. But YOU choose either the right or the left! After all this, it is weird when in a few crucial moments, I behaved like a stranger to myself! I didn't recognise the person who sat there and blabbered so incoherently. Did that ever happen? Not even when I have had a temperature, I guess! Like a tape running, ending, rewinding and running all over again, I have been replaying those moments..wondering if it was actually me! I was prepared. I knew what I had to talk about. And yet, I spoke completely tangential things. I 'know' it doesn't help to keep mulling it over! But it is definitely going to take a while, especially when talking clearly and sensibly is something I do almost all the time in professional life! And that is when we come to the question of Destiny! I am left thinking!

2010-01-25T20:11:00.003+05:30

This is a case of wishful thinking - an option to go back to school and under grad with the clarity (ok, granted that am not at nirvana yet) that I have now, would have been a life saver!

2010-01-23T22:43:00.001+05:30

Would you believe that not even a saturday mid afternoon lets you escape these God forsaken traffic jams in Bangalore? How much in advance should one plan? Beats me!

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What is it about some people's 24 hours that makes it look like 48 hours and counting?

SOS!

2010-01-22T23:22:00.005+05:30

Anybody know a somebody employed at Dell? I am looking to buy a laptop and my wallet would definitely weigh a little more this way, I guess!

Edited: 25 Jan 10

Should have the stuff ordered soooon! :)

2010-01-20T22:19:00.003+05:30

The discussion at the dinner table last weekend wandered to companies setting up shop in Kolkata.

Dad: They invest because they get more Bong for the buck!

Ananya - The show that was...

2010-01-09T22:31:00.005+05:30

Amazing show this evening - for details, please refer previous post! Thanks a ton to team Ananya (Wow!), to all those who patiently listened to us talk about Educate & Emancipate and most importantly to everybody who contributed both money and time and made it to the show - Thank you guys. You have made a difference!

Please provide your feedback on ananya [dot] ene [at] gmail [dot] com. We would love to hear back from you on what you thought of the show, any ideas for E&E and of course enquiries on students or contributions :) You can also contact us through our site http://educate-emancipate.org/

On a side note, to friends and colleagues who are reading this - I lost my mobile this evening. Please drop me an email with your numbers. Thanks!

Ananya - Fund Raiser - Dance Show!

2009-12-30T13:49:00.009+05:30

Hi Friends,

Dames and Dudes from 'Ananya', the dance troupe, present to you 150 minutes of sheer entertaintment! Get ready for the visual treat that, aided by an excellent surround system, awaits you at the St.John's Auditorium (Opp. Koramangala BDA complex, Bengaluru) on 9th January, 2010, starting 17.30 Hrs. Reach out on radhika dot ene at the rate of gmail dot com for ticket details!

About the show:
100 professional dancers coming together on one stage, for a theme based presentation weaving together a multi-lingual movie, right there, live! This is a charity fund-raiser for the Educate and Emancipate Charitable Trust, that works with financially underprivileged students to fund their education. The proceeds from the show will be used in the academic year 2010-2011.

About Educate & Emancipate Charitable Trust:
Educate & Emancipate is a charitable trust co-founded by a group of our employees with the urge to give back something meaningful to society. What better means than that of education? In order to raise funds for the trust, Ananya has come forward to organize this show.

Sit back and enjoy the show! Carry home some beautiful images and a bagful of thanks from our students! Please circulate it to all whom you know and help us in serving society better ! Thank You!

Visit:www.educate-emancipate.org

Also Visit: http://www.electronic-city.in/events/dance-show-fund-raiser.php

2009-12-23T09:27:00.004+05:30

It is nice to play Santa :) I wish I could have done this with some of my children!

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Received this from a colleague today:

Wishing you & your family a prosperous, recession-controlled, financially-stable, job secure, debt-free, investment-profiting, promotion-assured, hike-replete, war-free, journey safe, calamity free, friends-filled, romance-blooming, healthy, joyous and cheerful “Green” New Year 2010 !!

P.S. Sorry Narasi - Flicked it, without permission :P

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What should I do to make Murphy stop following me around like a loyal pup?

2009-12-22T19:01:00.003+05:30

Whats with people I find interesting and their company? I seem to lose the latter ever so often!
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Is there something that doesn't take something else for granted? Do words convey as much as they supposedly do? Music - supposed to be across all barriers, requires that you have an ear for it? And Art, an eye for it?

2009-12-21T20:13:00.000+05:30

It was a day I'd rather have spent reading!

2009-12-18T17:36:00.004+05:30

I got a most delightful little gift today, with wishes for a healthy year ahead - a bottle of Lion dates syrup and a pack of dates too. Thoughtful eh? :)

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Life sometimes hits you where it hurts the most - again and yet again!

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A royally screwed up end to a royally screwed up day! If this is any indication of how the year ahead is going to be, all I can say is ' God save me!'

2009-12-17T13:17:00.005+05:30

Fell lock, stock and barrel for the single, eligible and desperate Vadakalai Iyengar from South Chennai!

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Reading seats at 'Crossword' are meant precisely for that - to sit and read! Not catch up on the latest gossip! There are CCDs and Baristas for you!

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What happened to our sense of timing and urgency? Getting ahead in the traffic lane is more important than letting that ambulance pass by?

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Why do we hide behind facades of corporate etiquette, age and dignity because we cannot enjoy the simple joys of life? Is cynicism the word?

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Since when did I get so callous? I did not stop my auto to offer a ride to a fellow 'IT Worker', limping his way through, nor did the hundreds of vehicles driving into this 'esteemed' locality this morning! And I lectured away to glory on the joy of this season and on the weird ways of my generation, just a few days ago!

2009-12-07T19:19:00.004+05:30

Overheard in the elevator:

P1: If you do not know where you are going, every road leads to it!
P2: Yeah, A blind man searching in a dark room for a dog that is not there!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Are habits formed/acquired consciously or not? If not, are they irreversible? No, this post is not going to explore these questions. Putting it up here 'cos my curiosity is piqued. I always thought that taking little or no sugar in my beverages was just a habit built into my system consciously (I actually like it!), until I found out last week that I was fed that way for the first three years of my life. So, do I do it because I like it or do I like it because I did it?

2009-10-29T18:56:00.005+05:30

It's chaos - Bengali, Hindi, Tamil, Malayalam, English, Kannada, Telugu and even Korean - am loving it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Played around with children twice in less than a month. Refreshing! And caught up on small time gossip. :P

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The blog suddenly looks like Twitter - but anything to get back to writing :)

2009-10-28T19:32:00.001+05:30

Your 'official' friends - It's weird, you know their chat and email signatures but have no idea about their handwriting or 'real' signature!

Saanidhya!

2009-07-22T16:12:00.003+05:30

Familiar pathways,
They lead me on,
My eyes lost in the lofty trees...
The little bird greets me,
on its flight across...
The wind whispers past,
the perfume of the blooming jasmine
in its fold...
The light of the setting orb;
The shadow on the leaf;
The chirping cricket;
The entwined vine,
a riot of colours in its embrace..
The rain drops and rivulets,
The laughter of the gurgling stream,
pretty smiles on its banks...

The smoke ceases to sting;
The thatched roof - part of another world...
The lone 'Flame of the Forest',
a carpet of warm browns and reds...
The step unhurried,
With love for company -
It is home that I walk into...Saanidhya!

[To Professor and Professorin!]

2009-07-10T17:59:00.003+05:30

உன் ஆறாம் விரல்,
உதட்டை கொஞ்சும் நேரம்,
அக்கினித்துளியில் சாம்பலாவது -
என் நெஞ்சம்...

2009-05-23T23:08:00.004+05:30

I once wished to be as far away from you, as could be possible.... but it wasn't long before, that I wished to be on the sands on the beach... so, you and I could meet and hold hands several times a day... spaces in togetherness, I could call it... and then you carried me off, in your abundance... I thought I was special...I, I? A tiny shell...

Nellikuppam Junction

2009-03-30T15:36:00.007+05:30

The train started with a little jerk, just as he put the last suitcase under the seat. He settled in, leaning against the window pane. There were twelve hours to kill - he had packed in books and loaded the player with his favourites. Yet, the back pack lay on his lap, unopened. The children played around him noisily. He wished he could shut out the all the noises and images with a sweep of his hand. He wanted time to himself. To think and think again. Could he have done something different?

She had noticed that he was preoccupied, even as they had entered the station. She had tried to make small talk but had failed to interest him. She just sat there, right opposite him, trying to see how she could ease the pain.

Rows of red tile roofed, white washed walled houses, a couple of railway tracks, acres of paddy fields and coconut groves, women gossiping around boiling pots of rice, boys in shorts and girls in colourful paavadais playing on the muddy roads as menfolk dished out their evening game of cards. Green was the colour he had seen first and that,he had fallen in love with. The verdance around his home and the green flag that his father held at the station, causing giant wheels to rumble to a start. He remembered those days, many memories intact, though sometimes his age showed its signs. He had had no greater dream then, than to hold that flag one day. His left hand holding his father's index finger tightly, they would walk up and down for each of the duty sessions. The time they talked of Vikram and Bethaal, Krishna and Balaraama, to the day he had walked out with his suitcase... It would be a whole twelve hours before the next train came along. He trudged back along the pathway to his house, the thought of being there, unwelcome. It had ceased to be a home long ago.

Nellikuppam Junction - The train sped past the yellow and black signboard. In the distance, against the slowly sinking orb of the sun, the tall figure of the station master could be seen walking down the uneven path.

He wished he could have spoken with his father.

2009-02-27T01:13:00.006+05:30

The field has been sown in,
The sun has set..
The cold is seeping in...
The distant mountain,
hath become -
dark and menacing!
The night beckons me...
Her arms, waiting to embrace me!
Yet, I will not,
to rest my tired limbs.
I seek to struggle,
against my binds -
not fame nor wealth tempt me!
Laden with my rich harvest
I yearn to walk home...
Home!
Home, where you hold aloft the light
that flickers in the wind,
awaiting the sound of my feet...
A smile on your lips,
brighter than the jasmine blooms,
Your tresses darker than the night...
The hearth warm
Love and despair,
In your eyes!
Death - He can wait!

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What is this flutter,
that pervades my being?
It is him, him indeed
The Heart knows it all...
Yet, my eyes find him not!
He is nowhere,
they tell me...
Who would understand -
I feel him everywhere!

To Sumi!

2009-02-23T02:32:00.007+05:30

You do make a difference S... from having someone at home who can give me a run for the vegetables in the kadai.. to the patient girl who will sit up and talk at 1 AM, on a weekend, though she has to catch a bus at 7.30 AM, because thats the only time am awake and at home.. to a person who can understand and empathise with me just like only best friends can.. to one girl who can teach me what it is to love unconditionally and be so practical about it... someone who can tirelessly argue that love is selfless while I continue to grunt that its selfish (SN - if you are reading this, I feel so bad about the way we define love after wanting to walk out and change the world! he he he!)...the broadminded girl from a small town setup... very level headed yet very non-judgemental... someone who loves me and sometimes I suspect, even respects me, even though I ain't half as good as her.. the girl who will remind me of her birthday so that I can wish her, (well, the rest of you get a clue right?) but will surprise me on mine... somebody who amazes me with her boundless energy and creative enthusiasm, as with extreme lethargy too.. someone who can meticulously mess up the kitchen but cook some of the tastiest dishes with maximum veggies added...someone who can religiously avoid folding the clothes...some one who regularly reminds me that she missed Varaanam Ayiram in the theatres because of me (We will go for the next Surya movie S :P)... someone who can patiently wait for three months to get into the feel and skin to watch Schindlers List, despite the CD lying around at home (Let's do more on our movie list S)...someone I can always depend on for a little boost - "You look great Goofy!" comes out irrespective of my messy hair and careless do up...My first dancing partner - we had good fun, didnt we? Maybe we should do some classes and I can get out of my two left feet syndrome :P

Love you S :D And yes, Prayers too! You are a great package S!

2009-02-23T01:55:00.009+05:30

There are a lot of days when I want to write something and I end up not writing it because I was not able to capture the moment! I hold it for some time in my head suddenly and then... whoosh.. its gone! The lack of a momentary means to capture it is acutely felt then - Anybody game to present me a handheld? :P

Okay.. so, in deference to a certain persistant junior, am opening up the pages, again..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 27-Dec-08
A visit to the Universal Temple in Mylapore today... I love it, as you step in, the din and noise of the crowded, chaotic Mylapore seems to disappear and you are enveloped by a peaceful silence. I went in with a lot of confusion and ironically, it is in such peace and silence that I seem to find the energy to rise and make a change!

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What is it about some movies that moves you to tears? Emotions that just fail to translate into words? Makes you want to tell the world how much you love it?

A simple tale of Zara and Ali...the worn out white canvas shoes... the streets of rural Iran...a poor, proud, honest father... a loving but sick mother... brother and sister...the eyes, so full of love and innocence... the thread of trust, invisible, yet so obvious...the simplicity of it all, yet the profoundness...the poverty... the love...the eyes..the smiles.. the tears...the trust.. the love...Didn't I already say words fail you? Just watch "Children of Heaven"! A lost pair of shoes can teach you a lot...

Adding the link of a review - http://revsrules.blogspot.com/2009/03/children-of-heaven-review.html

Lokah Samastha Sukhino Bhavanthu!

2009-01-01T19:55:00.005+05:30

It’s a new day, a new beginning, a new year... Hope at its best, Spirits at their highest! (Well, not just figuratively either :P) I have to resort to Dickens to capture the essence of the moment...
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair...."

I don’t even have to mention these defining instances now... All that we seem to need is a little more strength, some big dreams, a lot more love, a dash of tolerance and the touch of a healing hand...Lets try to look into ourselves for each of them!

Chuck the "Too much philosophy" up there and just get out there and love life :)

To each of you who make my life so much more beautiful, meaningful and exciting - Thanks Guys... Love you all... Wishing all of you a wonderfully joyful, healthy and interesting year ahead!

Rains!

2008-11-20T19:36:00.010+05:30

Today is one Saturday I have not been working in a long time. Chennai is not a city prone to rains. But today, there are unexpected showers and I am overjoyed. I am as good as a four year old being given toffees all of a sudden. I sit on the balcony and stretch my arms, rejoicing in every rain drop that reaches my palms. I feel a sense of calm that has been eluding me for quite sometime now, a calm that I long for in the midst of 14-16 hours of work in front of a computer or in the hectic weekend schedule that I have. I feel as if I have met with a long lost soul mate...

Watching the rains has always been my one stop panacea - be it stress busting,anger management,escape from homework or plain old source of merriment. My first ever literary attempt (way back in my fourth standard!) was after one of these rain watching sessions. There is a vague, at best hazy recollection of forcing my time conscious grandfather to keep the front doors open and let me sit on the front porch , long after the designated closing hours of 9 P.M.,so that I could complete my "master piece". There was also the shipyard where grandpa taught me to make ships that invariably sunk on their maiden journey across the puddle in our front yard. Learning the nuances of the game of chess from him, as thunder and lightning made a merry game outside (our front doors were old fashioned wooden ones with look through bars..), or gathering up neighbourhood friends for a long game of dice or cards until grandma shooed us away to do our prayers at sunset.

Two years later my grandpa passed away, but the rain watching sessions continued - either curling up with a novel in my favourite corner in the house, with granny serving hot tea and pakodas as if I were a princess. Or granny pushing me to run and bring in the clothes and firewood from the backyard before they got wet, while I took all the time in the world to budge from watching my favourite Arabian Nights on Doordarshan, with more than occasional glances at the dripping leaves of the lemon tree that I could see through the window next to the TV set. The daily ritual of my grandma's question,"Did you take your raincoat?" as I pedalled away to school every morning during the rainy season...

Some more years down the lane and every raindrop meant mystery and a sense of awe.. the rapture at every tree, bark,leaf and flower having a refreshing bath... the greenery and the smell of wet earth...a sense of fulfilment at seeing the first flower from the tree I planted as a kid.. life and living..it served as an inspiration when sometimes things did not happen as I wanted them to..and I was steeped in frustration..the rain pouring down irrespective of anything else happening around goaded me to move on, undeterred by failures.

Years later, my grandma was no more around here and these rains were again my solace, as if they washed away all my sorrow and filled me with some kind of purity in soul.. be it in watching them from my hostel window or in aimlessly walking in the rains and getting drenched..or in talking to the rain refreshed trees that flourished in my college campus..

I know that the world I live in today and the one I aspire to move into will not easily permit me to enjoy these simple pleasures in life.. and I am still a rookie in the IT industry.. a 6 month old toddler,unsure of things.. People sometimes call me old fashioned - Am I? Maybe.. But I don't necessarily mind.. All I need and look for is sense and strength.. sense to know what to do and strength to do it..After all, my grandparents were old fashioned too.. but they did build homes, have savings and go on package tours.. and more importantly, they still had time to watch the rains and love the earth.. I too would love to see the rainbows!!!

Written, in what seems to be million light years ago!

Mirage!

2008-11-20T19:30:00.002+05:30

As my hand stretched across,
The little butterfly flitted ahead...
Alas, from the depths of insanity,
I yearn for the perfect palette!
My dreams - the Mirages!

Written on 13 June 08

My Pied Piper!

2008-11-20T19:18:00.008+05:30

Pen over paper,
Poised in anticipation,
I pause...

Whirlwinds within me,
Wisps of thoughts...
Whispers in the dark,
Waves around me!

Mishaps and misgivings,
Maelstorms and summer days,
Lifeless Moments...

The world crashing around me
Rumbling thunder
Blinding lightning
-All in my mind's eye

A streak of brilliance
An awestruck expression
Realisation of my dawn
Oranges and Yellows

Black Eyes and Blue Lips
Terrified of the unknown...
Yet, beckoned on,
by My Pied Piper!

Written on 18 June 08

Saying hi to the blog!

2008-11-19T01:19:00.001+05:30

Been more than a month and I have a cartload to post!

2008-10-17T18:49:00.004+05:30

There is just so so so much to write about!!!

In the meanwhile,

I was locking up our door on my way to office a couple of days ago, when I heard the lady in the opposite apartment call out a hi, commenting on the fact that I have had yet another haircut. The family was just back from a vacation. I peeped in to their hallway, so that grandma and grandpa could have a look too - they are usually very curious!

Me: Hello thatha - how was your vacation?

Thatha: All good! Hmm.. (Thoughtful) Your previous haircut used to remind me of Audrey Hepburn!

Me: (still smiling, thinking I didnt hear right) Who Thatha?

Thatha: Audrey Hepburn - Roman Holiday movie - Haven't you see it?

Me: (You could have struck me down with a feather then)I didn't know you watched English movies (sheepish grin)

Thatha - (A very hearty laugh) How many times have I cut classes to go to the Theatres - do you know!

I laugh too and walk away! How vain youth can be!

(Well, if you didnt get the point, it was about thatha knowing Audrey Hepburn. Comments shall in no way glorify (damage) my attempts at maintaining a pretty decent hairstyle)

Life Happens - I

2008-10-07T16:46:00.006+05:30

There are these moments in life when you want to say, "Ok! time for a break!". All you want to do is stretch your feet on the luxurious cushion, pile up a mountain of books next to you, play the santoor (on the music system, of course - what did you think!), write delightfully happy stories for your best friends to read and say - "Wah Life!"

And then Life happens! You do the UAT for the new protoype of a Roller Coaster ride that life has just designed. She straps you on to it and says, "Rock On!"

Pretty much what's been going on at home base. I don't know what to call the past two weeks. Life, death, work, dreams - all seemed to go around in circles. An uncle passed away on Saturday (19th).Heart Attack the culprit. Not the first in the family though. Years ago, when I was too young to even really 'feel' for him, an uncle I would have loved to get to know more, for his sake or my mother's, I might never know for sure. Then, three years ago, it was grandma - the lady who singlehandedly brought me to where I am today.

[P.S. My latest health report says I have too much Cholestrol and stand the risk of heart ailments as I grow older. Atleast, I can blame it on the genes.]

Well, as the news sunk in, I did not feel as much sorrow for losing my uncle as I felt for my cousin. The new man of the house, shoulders a mere three months older than mine, feet not yet so firm at work, a sister married off two months ago,an inconsolable mother, grief stricken grandparents whose depair pierced right through your heart. It would be too easy to say I understand, but I don't and neither will anybody who says so. Its a blatant lie.

What would I understand of their man to man talks? Of his education and career shaped by his father's? Of his phone calls home that would no longer be answered by that voice? Of that trip back home to meet one person less? Of that, oh-so-infectiously cheerful laughter that would no longer tease and cause mirth at every wedding and family gathering? Of that hand that would no longer point him in the right direction when he needs that guidance? What would I understand of what father meant to that son?

The innumerable nights that you would wake up with their images in your dreams. The excruciating pain as you recall your last callous word to her that evening. That one moment when you choose to postpone giving her that hug. The guilt. The dreams where you laugh and make plans with her, for the years to come. The sumptous meal at the dinner table, all your favourites and the smiling face in the kitchen waiting for your footsteps. Images. The hope that would never materialise. The pain. It is just so only to you.

As always, R would scale up. The ever reliable, intelligent, too good to be true boy of those days will be the too good to be true man henceforth. I can only presume to think I understand. And whisper a little prayer for a soul to rest in peace. And one more, for new feet to fit into shoes that seem so large now.

to be contd.

Life - Ebbs and Flows!

2008-09-15T17:35:00.008+05:30

(Inspired by the pic above -
Clicked by colleague/fellow blogger EM, at Thiruvanmiyur Beach, Chennai)

The still waters await,

the turbulence of the boats...

Lives that hinge,

on the colours in your midst...

The circle of red rises,

heralds yet another dawn...

In the narrow confines of definition,

the days' work is done!

Who are they -

those that do your bidding?

They claim me for their own...

Enticed into your folds, Am Lost

The silence inside - a misnomer!

The sounds outside - overshadowing life!

He & I

2008-09-12T14:38:00.005+05:30

For twenty odd years, the card had remained there. Dusted, opened, read, placed back. Rinse repeated. But, it had never moved. He had loved to see it the first thing as he woke up every morning. I had reminded him once, that he could see me somewhere around in the house, pretty often or he could as well call me, instead of looking for the card. He had chosen the card. “It reminds me of a beautiful you!”. Ah, that impish grin. For a moment, I had been sure that the card would burn down with the jealousy in my eyes.

It had not at all been difficult falling in love with him or finding that I loved him more and more as each day went by. I picked the card today and long ago images came floating back. A just out of college grad with a million stars in my eyes, at the top of my class. An auditorium milling with a varied crowd - proud parents, excited graduates, harried members of the college admin, the awed freshmen. And then, He had entered the room. His Davidoff, mild yet enticing enough to make heads turn. The spotless suit. And that merry laugh or the subdued smile, as he climbed up to the dais, talking to the college authorities. The steely glint in his eyes, that bespoke his determination. The dextrous hands as he gestured around. Smart and energetic, he was clearly the man of the day.

Then, he had gotten up to speak, ever so slightly adjusting the collar of his shirt. The Arrow shirt that I had picked for him when we had gone shopping a couple of days ago. His journey from a remote village, an obscure dot on the map to what he was today. He had spoken and the crowd had listened - dazed.

That day, as he melted in the crowd, walking across the floor in his trademark gait, giving his attention to every one who wanted it, I got the first glimpse of yet another facet of the greatness of the man, that I might have otherwise missed. He had settled down at the huge dinner table, letting the students come to him. Once in a while, there would be somebody with whom he would spend a couple of minutes more. He would have seen the spark in that student, in those few minutes. And I would know from the awe in their eyes that he had made his mark. He had inspired one more, yet again. For the first time, I was so tongue tied in his presence that all I could do was sit and wonder at the man for what he stood for.

As we got down from the car and walked into our home, later in the evening, I could not wait to hug him. I took the card out and handed it over: “To Dad - my first love and inspiration!”

That was why it was special to him. I had seen the man behind my father - that graduation day, as he stood on the dias and told his story to the world. Son, Father, Husband, Doctor, Counsellor, Football team member, Mentor and inspiration to many.

Father and Daughter, we had walked in, an intoxicated happiness in our silent moment of realisation.

Tears flooded my eyes, as I removed it from the place of honour and relegated it to the confines of the suitcase. “I miss you!”, I whispered to the card. He would know.

Adversity

2008-09-11T10:37:00.001+05:30

To hear in silence

To see in darkness -

Adversity,

A leap of faith for the believer?

Or is it the optimistic opportunist?

Games they play!

2008-09-11T10:04:00.005+05:30

Ask me no questions,

For answers I have none.

I seek them,

the tireless traveller in the desert

parched with his need for the Oasis

And they elude me!

Injustice, I claim

Games, they say!

Stereotyping, aren't we?

2008-08-22T17:01:00.013+05:30

Got this on a forward today!
And could not help trying this out, let me add, all in good humour!

P.S. All copyrights, whatsoever, of the original with whoever cartoonist did them!

P.P.S. And whoever is conspiring to provide this as incriminating evidence to my boss, of my employement state (I honestly have a good amount of work to do!)- grrr.. thou shalt be cursed with more work!

Smiles

2008-08-20T17:59:00.006+05:30

Man - The happiness that comes from seeing a friend smile, after months of trouble! (even after this! )
Love you SB! Errrr....Should I say SB from NL? :P

Darn it!

2008-08-20T16:00:00.004+05:30

We are precisely in the predicament that we didn't want to be in, having taken precautions to ensure that we avoid it. How? Because of the sheer inefficiency and unaccountability of a bank official and missing details on processes! I can't be more irritated today and this reminds me that my room mate has been saying that the right eye twitching might be bringing me bad luck! And yeah, I missed my lunch too!

Pudhiadhor - A new world!

2008-08-19T19:34:00.010+05:30

It is twelve noon on a saturday afternoon and the small room in Urapakkam is chaotic… there are children milling all around us and everybody wants to know what our names are and whether we work with Nithya akka. Am I an engineer? Do I belong to Chennai? Will I come every weekend? Do I want to see all their summer camp charts? Will I listen to their explanations? Will I play with them? Will I eat lunch with them? Will I talk to them or even just plain sit and spend time listening to them? Will I watch their play?

Urapakkam is a few minutes beyond the Crescent College of Engineering, in Chennai. A junior wing of an organisation called Pudhiadhor works with the kids here and the volunteers are, as far as I saw, software professionals. The main force behind this is Nithya and she works with Keane. The Pudhiadhor group is doing great work there. There are abt 40-50 kids in the above 6th grade category.

There is one study room + store room type shelter they have built there. When I went there a couple of months ago, it was summer camp time - chart work on Indian states etc and such activities.
Otherwise, every evening, it serves as the study room for the kids - an environment they do not get at home.
They get sundal every evening and now they are getting breakfast and lunch too - some nutrition to encourage them to concentrate on studies than earning money for food.
There are 2 ladies currently appointed to take care of the run activities - they double up as matrons and tuition teachers. But it is a heavy strain on them.
One problem now is since the kids are taken in only from 6th above, they have very shaky basics but it is difficult to take in smaller kids as they do not have enough people or resources. But soon, a primary section is required to catch the kids young and make a much better impact.
Every month expenditure - about 20 K and comes from around 15 volunteers.
There is an Arts master who comes in, every fortnight or so (I am not sure) and the kids add more than just a splash of colour on paper.
A widow from Urapakkam village does the cooking - so its her livelihood too. But they still use firewood and such to cook.

They also staged a play, for us visitors! (I had gone along with two of my friends, to see if the students needed any sponsorship from E&E) This was written by one of the Pudhiadhor co-ordinators who is a playwright and they have performed 5 or 6 times on various stages in Chennai. Its called Siddhartha - the following is a gist of the scenes in the play:

The episode from Buddha’s life where Devadutta kills a bird and Buddha saves it - Respect for all lives
Kids playing around and fighting over who will own a butterfly and then understanding that it should not be disturbed and killed - On how we should co-inhabit earth with other flora and fauna
Siddhartha ploughing the field himself and not waiting for the field slaves (’pannai velaikaaran’) - On dignity of labour.
Siddhartha refuses to hunt and he is advised that its a Kshatriya’s dharma to fight war and therefore, hunting is the practise ground. Siddhartha then raises questions on why there should be war. A few soul searching moments and the play ends with a question - Am I a Kshatriya or a human and Siddhartha drops his sword, in desperation - On non violence.

It was an amazing performance, like any professional troupe, in timing, dialogue delivery and expressions! Mind you - there was only one rehearsal before they delivered their near flawless performance. At the end, the team stood together to introduce themselves and what variety - one boy says a complete sentence in english (with no grammar mistakes - so what if it is just his name, class etc) another little girl smiles like there is no greater happiness than being in that room that moment. One guy who has completed his 12th this year, says, with a face full of hope - I am going to join college. The only other guy who has finished 12th, goes one step further - I am starting my BCA in SRM, he says. (He had applied there - am not sure of the admit yet though). These are the only two children who have completed 12th this year. The kind of energy that must have gone into preparing the kids for this and the enthusiasm and talent of the kids themselves - It was overwhelming!!! I do not have pictures from the day (Yes - I was absent minded enough to not carry a camera with me and my mobile’s photo quality - better left unsaid). It is also important that the children are made to focus on such interesting options and varieties, so that there is minimal influence from the violence and drinking at home. And it broadens their perspectives and gives them a chance to live like the rest of us.

Pudhiadhor is looking for some help:

Evening Tutors who can help the kids with basics - math, science and languages - every evening is a must to continually keep in touch with the kids and inspire them to study better, not just student volunteers or such who will have to break during sem exams and holidays
Financial contributions
Any extra hands and ideas are welcome

If anybody is really interested or has any information or ideas, do let me know. I will get them across to Nithya.

Good Luck DB

2008-08-19T18:50:00.002+05:30

For someone taking an important step in a few days - Good Luck DB. I hope you do extremely well!
Amen.

Wanderlustic Mis-adventures

2008-08-19T15:52:00.008+05:30

It was October 2007 and I was completely lost in mounds of work. I worked on October 2nd too (No client holiday and am into support) and that became, kind of, the last straw. I called up MV - my best friend from school and both of us decided to pack our bags for a weekend trip. We called up a couple more and my! my! What gems of responses - ‘Two girls all alone?’ (Errr - somebody needs to revisit their math) ; ‘Who are the adults coming along?’ (Come On - We are eligible to vote!) As it is, the idea of a trip was exciting - given the typical small town middle class upbringing that both of us had and after such responses, we were even more inspired to just get on with it. More importantly, both of us did not (and still do not) own a camera. So we did the next best thing - borrowed one! To top it all - where do we stay ? Google came to our rescue and we found a nice homestay - but as luck would have it, it was booked full. The kind land lady offered to refer us to her friend. We had the friend’s number and her husband would pick us up from the Madikeri bus stand. So we were all set.

We took the late night bus from Bangalore on a cold Friday and reached Madikeri by 4.30 AM. We stood there, shivering in the early morning chill and kept looking around for the guy who was to pick us up! All of a sudden, there was this huge sumo in front of us and a guy, all bundled up and looking like an Amrish Puri/Ashish Vidyarthi combine, albeit a little taller and bearded, walked up to us and confirmed our names. MV and I stole looks at each other at the obvious trouble we seemed to be getting ourselves into (Considering that MV's parents thought we were in Coorg with a bunch of colleagues and my parents thought I was working that weekend - We confessed after we got back!). Still, we managed to muster the guts to get into the sumo and bang - found ourselves sitting on a lot of sacks and farm equipment! By then, the shivering was surely not out of the cold weather! The sumo started and we climbed into the hills and travelled away from the city (as is, the city was deep asleep!) through labyrinths of coffee estates. Silently, MV and I, made dumb signs at each other - point was, Get ready to jump out and run, as soon as the vehicle slows down. We turned around a corner, 20 minutes later, and then saw the pretty little house tucked in the middle of the estate and a very very motherly looking lady standing on the portico, with the lights on. Slightly encouraged by this sight, we abandoned our plans of running away and went in to check out the place. It was a beautiful out house - a bedroom with two neatly made beds, a cupboard, a spotless bathroom, a TV and even furniture in the drawing room. There were pretty paintings hanging around the house and they were clearly ‘in house’ done. With either no where to go or this, we settled for this risk. With juvenile naivety, we even looked for ‘hidden’ cameras after the lady left us to freshen up!

We had requested her to get us the traditional Coorgi breakfast and by the time we reached the dining room an hour later, we saw a neatly laid table and crisp rice rotis and some of the most colourful side dishes. Her son was getting ready for school and then - we heard Ayyappan hymns from within the house. Finally realisation dawned on us and we confirmed that the husband was indeed sporting that unruly beard and extras because he was going to Sabarimala. Now, you can imagine the sheepish grin on our faces.

They turned out to be one of the most accomodating and caring couples! After learning that we were out on our own and did not know the local language the husband gave us practically, complete route maps and the best means to travel between places. (We had, of course, planned an itinery with Google!) The lady offered to keep dinner ready for an extra of just Rs.100 per day! (We had booked it as bed and breakfast, but gluttons that we were (are), we fell in love with her cooking!) She got Sharanu anna, an automan to take us around Madikeri. He too turned out to be a rocking guy - he had this LCD display in his auto and we went around Madikeri watching Kollywood and Kannada heroes and heroines dance around trees! They had more than just information and history to share - happy smiles and charming manners! We were on talkathlon mode throughout the weekend (apart from the moments we were gaping at the beautiful greenery or were saving up precious memories)!

Coorgis to us, are the best (beshtesht ) people in the world!

P.S. This is all where we went:

Morning reached Madikeri ->Kushal Nagar ->Buddhist Monastery ->Dubare forest -river rafting (this is yet another post) ->Madikeri - Omkareshwara temple, Raja’s seat ->sleep.
Morning to Abbe falls -> Bhagamandala (triveni sangamam) -> Thalakaveri -> temple and prayers -> Madikeri - shopping, coffee estate->return to Banglore at night.

The Mask of Zorro

2008-08-18T23:00:00.006+05:30

Watched the movie last evening - albeit the Tamizhised version on Sun TV. Now I know why you like Antonio Banderas, NP!

P.S. Miss your movie reviews lady! Hope you are having a good time at ~~college~~ Grad School!

Raffles is On!

2008-08-14T23:08:00.004+05:30

It's the day of the Raffles for a Reason (Educate & Emancipate), tomorrow! Yay, I say!
Fingers crossed that we can fund all our children and that our collection drive has been highly successful!

Amen.

Starry Night

2008-08-14T11:48:00.001+05:30

I stretch on my bed and look out through the balcony door. There is a cool wind blowing on my face and my lips part in a smile. The big wide black bleakness outside.. The transient shapes of the clouds that are on thier own mysterious journey across the sky.. I stare at the million stars in the sky and they twinkle right back at me..Yet another day in the pursuit of happiness, in material madness.. in love for a lost friend...in times spent with a new one...in dreams and hopes for a better day... a tear drop for lost love... another milestone in the journey of life...

Here and There

2008-08-11T20:48:00.007+05:30

Time: 8 PM
Place: In front of the comp at my cousin's place, watching a great on video but very low on the audio, DVD version of Jodhaa Akbar
People: Two cousins and me

Me: Hey, just pause and tell us too! Atleast, once in a while! (to cousin A who has her ears stuck to the speaker!)
Cousin A: pauses movie, blinks and says, "Hmm.. I paused. What shall I say?"
Cousin B and Me: *^() @#$%
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Screeching of tyres on the road; a bang; a helmet-less man, spreadeagled in the middle of the road, being helped by passers by.

Instant Thought: Whose dad would he be?

Next Instant: Prayer on the lips as I thanks heavens that my dad loves his helmet as much as he loves his bike. I love you dad!

Hey Chotu & DB - In case you are still reading these posts, take care guys :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why do we always expect someone else to fight our battles?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why do people talk as if the IT crowd is an alien crowd? Don't you push your sons and daughters to be part of the same? And then also to come home every weekend?
- rant in response to elders on a train randomly chit chatting and complaining about IRCTC tickets being booked online from the comfort of the house whereas they have to stand in queues.

In Memoriam

2008-08-11T15:48:00.008+05:30

It is as if am severing one of my lifelines as I move on, each time something changes. Connections changed. Names altered. Accounts closed. Gardens no more. Those that were once forever and indicated stability are not that way anymore. And those few moments that the train pulls out of the station - I wish I could skip that heaviness in my heart!

In Solitude

2008-07-31T14:39:00.006+05:30

I am barren.
I struggle,
I cry to the winds,
To carry my yearning across -
Beyond the cold mountains.
But soon, am covered and dead.
Yet I survive,
sustaining myself -
On hope.
Then, one glorious day
I am a million splendid colours,
Myriad shades.
I smile - am in love
And when am lost in your depths,
You disappear,
Leaving me behind!
I shed all.
I am nothing but me.
I stand alone,Unadorned
In silent penance
I wait for thee - Spring,
Once again!

The Beyond

2008-07-31T14:37:00.001+05:30

She turned the key in the door and walked into the house. The lights were off and as she slipped out of her shoes, she noticed that the pair of shoes were out of the shelf. The ends of the shoes were facing the opposite directions. She sighed. It had been yet another rough day, she realised. And with that realisation came the heaviness of heart - it would be a bad evening! She walked in noiselessly to the bedroom, changed and freshened up. The bed was clean and made and Her favourite CD was in the player. And there was the bookmark at almost the middle of the book. She must have been reading. She listened at the other door and all she could hear was the sound of breathing and exhaustion. Images flashed across in her mind. A blue ribbon and lace shoes. A summer camp and the first night out. The care worn hands that were soothing at night. The tall shoulders at her graduation. First visit to her workplace and those incredibly intelligent eyes. She tiptoed in and kissed the wrinkled forehead that had once been high and proud. She almost cried at the sight!How she prayed and wished that she could make a difference to give her atleast a semblance of her earlier sharpness! But had the doctor not said, it was too late? She shed soft tears at the door that had once been the entrance to love, hope, acceptance and encouragement. Now it was just despair!

"Shot Ok!"

Yet another day! Yet another scene! Yet another life! She walked back to her caravan!

Homecoming!

2008-07-28T10:57:00.009+05:30

‘Bhagyam’, # 11, 2nd Main Road.

Anybody who rang the calling bell at this address - be it the newspaper boy, the milk vendor, the maid or even the door to door sales rep could expect to see him on the easy chair, the water jug on the table beside him. The table also held the magnifying glass and its cover. The glass was for reading The Hindu. From my vantage point, which by the way, was the first floor window of #10, 2nd Main Road, I could ’spy’ on Kiccha thatha. I would believe it, if somebody said that he had an alarm in his body. Five fifteen every morning, and I would be able to see Kiccha thatha doing Surya namaskaram. In his panchagajam and angavasthram*, he would then pick flowers in the tiny flower patch in the front yard for his pooja. There would be the sound of tiny bells ringing some time later, signalling the end of the morning pooja! And then he would sit there, drinking his steaming cup of coffee in the stainless steel dabara tumbler*, when coffee mugs were the ‘in’ thing!

I almost felt like a part of the household at #11. This was a picture I liked to see everyday - The grandpa and grandson, standing together, waving goodbye to the red Matiz pulling out of the gates at 7.30 every morning. They would then spend around a quarter of an hour, just gazing around. Forty five minutes later, thatha would be in his white dhoti and half sleeved shirt, the three stripes of sacred ash prominent on his forehead while Chika will have a smaller version on his and he would look all trim in his neatly polished shoes and ironed uniform. Both would walk down to school, lost in the realms of their talking.

During the day thatha would read the paper and those bound volume books which no one bothered to even open up these days. There were Kalidasa’s Samaskritham books as also philosophy in English. Thatha even wrote for the papers once in while. He would keep himself busy until Chika returned in the evening, after school and games with the neighbourhood boys. Then, they would both sit on the veranda - Thatha, on the easy chair, as always and Chika would run around talking or at the other extreme, sit with rapt attention, his chin on thatha’s knees and his eyes never once leaving thatha’s face. The old man smiling down and the other looking up, into one benevolent face.There would be a million stories told in those twilight hours and a zillion more questions would go from the inquisitive child to the wise grandpa, all coming back with satisfying answers.

Today, as I sat watching them in the evening, Chika struck the pose of an archer. I heard thatha asking him - “Where did Krishna advise Arjuna?’ “Geethopadesam” - pat came the reply and the shoulder stretched with pride, on getting the answer right!At that moment, I am sure Kiccha thatha saw the paddy fields, sugarcane stacks, coconut groves, the swing where Bhagyam maami sat singing every evening, the veena in the corner, the jasmines in the front yard, Lakshmi mooing in the backyard, the big pooja room where the Vigrahams had been handed over for almost 3 generations before him - all this and more, in the merriment in his grandson’s eyes.

After all, I had once been through this too, I thought to myself as Gokul helped me out of my chair for my evening whiff of fresh air.

*panchagajam and angavasthram - traditional Tamizh Brahmin outfit
*dabara tumbler - cup and saucer

Written on: 23 June '08.

Kitchen Woes!

2008-07-22T12:53:00.005+05:30

My first tryst with cooking was about a year ago. We had this electric cooker at my apartment. So it was rather easy to put the rice out to boil - check in three minutes, add some water. Check in the tenth minute - remove some water and so on. You get the picture right? What was the problem then, you ask? Here is where you will have to imagine a twenty something year old brought up on a staple Tamizh vegetarian diet - Me ceases to exist without vegetables and dal. Yes, I REALLY LOVE vegetables. Green, orange, brown,maroon - anything. Also, my previous entries into the kitchen were punctuated by only dialogues - “So, what’s for lunch”; “Radish sambhar? Ok, then I need potato fry. Do you know what happened in school in the assembly yesterday?” and then I used to happily settle down leaning against the wall, jabbering away to glory as grandma kept cooking - all the time inhaling the absolutely delicious aromas from the aracha kootu, peerkangai thogayal and.. I am stopping the list here as I am unable to concentrate on typing when thinking of food. Let me hasten to add - Good food. How else would I manage to type this post then! So back to the story now: this fine day, I looked around and saw only potatoes. My room mates had all gone home and getting down three flights of stairs was not exactly THE thing I wanted to do at the moment. So I settled for the potatoes. I have this almost fetish for very finely chopped vegetables, so I got going successfully in chopping them. After about 15 minutes of frying them, I realised I was going to end up with part potato chips than fried curry - the potato was so fine that it became almost wafers on frying. But it still tasted good. So encouraged by this rather decent first culinary attempt, I got a little enthusiastic and bought okra (ladies finger) the next day. I washed it and did not dry it - my first mistake. I added the Bengal gram, mustard and chillies and once they were done, I added the chopped okra, poured water and closed it - for it to cook, you know. All good cookers (I don’t mean the Prestige ones) can imagine the murk when I opened the tava five minutes later. I drained the water or rather tried to drain it, let it cook for a few more minutes - kept my fingers crossed for a miracle and finally settled for a er.. not so great curry. The next attempt was brinjal (egg plant). I thought I had learnt my lessons well. And I decided I will graduate in cooking with great flair - the podi potta kathirikkai kari. I chopped it lengthwise, so the pieces were slightly bigger. I added the veggies to the seasoning mixture in the tava, only ’sprinkled’ water and closed it. I sat down to happily surf channels for the next five minutes, when I became aware of the smell of charcoal and you know what went wrong! I ended up with a patent worthy charred brinjal curry! The end result of all this - I got the what-do-you-cook-in-these-vessels type looks from our maid for the next couple of days!

If this is the story of lunch, dinner was an entirely different affair. The world in 2050 would appear on the dosa tava - the war ravaged, partly sunken into the ocean types world! So I decided I would compensate and satisfy my taste palettes with the chutney - the hot tomato onion chutney! What can go wrong in a chutney. I mean - c’mon. Add the tomatoes,onions,chillies,ginger and salt. Blend them, boil the mix and add mustard seasoning! Voila! Yeah, right! Now, I know they have to be sautéed before being blended and hot does not mean three big green chillies with one tomato and two onions! You get the idea, don’t you?

The day my old roomie walked out with the electric cooker and I had to resort to the pressure cooker at home, spelled disaster. I had to fill in the right amount of water intially itself and I could not check on it in between. Still, I decided I would be a brave soul. (Hunger cometh, ten flyeth - pasi vandaal pathum parakkum! :P ) I have to give some background information on this cooker at home - it was nearing retirement but we would not let go of it. Was a decent cooker so, it wouldn’t whistle :P . I set it on the stove, with the rice and hopefully enough water and set the timer on my mobile for twenty minutes. Perfectly on time, I switched off the gas and promptly opened the cooker to check on the rice - the steam burn on my hands took three weeks to heal!

Ah - such were the days! But I assure you - you can walk in confidently for food at my place now and you will be treated to crispy dosas that have a radius of 4 cms and lip smacking tomato onion chutney :)

Meanderings

2008-07-04T12:30:00.007+05:30

“Mom, Can I please have some cereal?”
Our 5'8?, 16 year old son walked into the kitchen in his trademark grey T-shirt and black jeans. I was tired of seeing them on him and even more tired of seeing only a line of grey’s on the clothesline in our backyard. I wished I could buy him a couple of those colourful T-shirts - If only he would let me! I looked up from the onion I was peeling, in the middle of these thoughts in my mind, and pointed at the cereal box on the side stand in the kitchen.

“Milk?”
“On the gas stove. If you want cold milk, second shelf in the fridge”. The noise of the fridge door, as I continued with the onions.
“What's that in the freezer?”
“Chocolate Pudding”
“What's special?”
“Nothing”
I could feel his eyes on me even as I looked down on the cutting board.

‘All My Loving’ wafted in from the drawing room and that told me that my husband was almost ready for office. I garnished the curd rice just the way he liked it and packed his lunch box. The bang of the front door told me that our son was out for the day. ‘How do these guys manage to roam around in the hot summer sun’, I murmured to myself as I walked into the drawing room. My husband looked up from tying his shoe laces and smiled at our 14 year old daughter climbing down the stairs, her sleep tousled hair falling across her forehead.

“Good morning Daddy! I love you”. She gave him a hug. I suppressed a smile at the thought of the argument that would ensue were I to compare the two cold men, eating breakfast together and the warm reception from my girl.

“Mom, Can you make your crisp ghee dosas for my breakfast now?”, her hands around my shoulders. Who could refuse the pretty thing what she wanted. I nodded my head, in reply to both - her question and the wave from my husband. I subconsciously tuned my ears to listen to the sound of the car leaving the garage before turning my full attention to the dream my little girl had last night. She sat on the kitchen table and was so full of vibrancy as she described in vivid words what she had seen last night. Even crispy dosas could not stop her. As she finished her breakfast, I shooed her off to get ready for her dance class.

“Did you practise last evening?”
“I did Amma. I even told you before you went to sleep!” Why was I forgetting such a simple thing today?
“Did Ajju fight with you ma?”
She seemed to sense my listlessness.
“No dear - I am just tired. Is Mathangi’s mother picking you up today?” I wanted to move away from the topic.
“No ma. I am taking the bicycle. You know what? Sneha’s brother has got us all tickets for the play today. So I will get back home by six. Should that be alright amma?”
I smiled and she planted a kiss on my cheek and tra la la’ed out of the kitchen.

It was two in the afternoon and I had not called him yet. As I sat with my lemon tea, my elbows on the window sill, images flashed past me. Did I do a mistake? Would it have been very different had I spoken to him earlier? Was it any use to do it now? I missed him. I had had a happy fulfilling life and did I deprive him of that? It was his birthday today - now again, how old was he? Should I do it right now? Had I been unfair, choosing to put a society and a family that refused to accept us, before him? Did I deny him some happiness? Did I lose one for two? Didn’t seeing Arjun everyday remind me of him? Should we have come home as a family then, and let the world go on with what it wanted? Should he have been here, in this very house all these years?

The postman was at the gate and I walked down to pick up the mails. There was the card. What an irony! It was his birthday and I was getting the card. I opened it to the familiar greeting. Such beautiful words. His cards never failed to touch my heart, through all these years.

I sat back to read the letter. This would be one of his last before he flew abroad to pursue his doctorate. I still remembered him in the arms of Sr.Theresa - his high cheek bones, so prominent even then. Eyes twinkling with mischief. The smile that reached his eyes as he looked at us. We had adopted him almost just as a God father and God mother. We sponsored his complete education and all expenses. The only way I had been a (sur)real mother to him was through the innumerable letters, that had flown between us. ‘To my mother, whom I have never met, from a loving son’.No, I wanted that changed. I added this letter to the bunch that was on the table - his first one as a 7 year old, to the latest now. I tied them back with the ribbon and walked up to the telephone. I was going to fix that appointment at the Marriott, before he made his first move from the nest.

The wheels of time, move on...

P.S. For ‘To my mother, whom I have never met, from a loving son’, I am not sure if 'For the mother I felt in everything about me but never saw, from a loving son', is a better replacement.

Written On: 17 June '08

Writer's Block!

2008-06-23T18:52:00.002+05:30

After days (read: months) of deliberation, I finally decide that I will indeed own a public blog. I am forced to take time to choose the template and then fill in the rest of the innocous stuff. 'Let me get started with my writing', I chide blogger. And when am all set, pen and paper at my disposal (along with a trash can, of course) and also a keyboard and computer monitor, I lean back in my chair, and await the torrent of words that were promised (er.. by myself to my self) and all I can do is sit and stare. So shall you, my esteemed reader because Goofy currently has a writer's (er... Ideator's) block!