Man is surely a social animal. He always seeks out like minded people and cushioned in a womb of collective agreement on various issues gauges his life’s success. Which of course depends on how much people like him like him. Every one else with a different opinion is an outsider out to get this 'community' with its perceived sense of belonging. To be dealt with anger, arrogance, contempt or ifs a kinder soul with a patronizing attitude. We ve seen these 'ties that bind' as kids in school, then college, then workplaces, then society in general and have lived with it for ever. Or heard of it and ignored it as a fact of life... Birds of a feather... anyone?? Now I read about it in blogs. Where people have created their own virtual personalities and have started believing in it. Where not everyone is a writer but writes. And yet where people are not forgiving of the 'perceived' tone of the post. Where cliques of people take up for their virtual comrades in arms. Where the concept of personal space is recognized only when preceded with a 'my' and lines between concern and voyeurism are startlingly blurred.
The thing is when people write they are more transparent than when they speak. They don’t have their audience right in front of them to temper the language or clarify if something is lost in translation. So when I see seemingly well heeled individuals reveal their intolerant prejudiced self in the name of expressing an opinion or standing up for someone it scares me. Of the many masks we wear the global tolerant yuppie is one we love the most but when our guard is down do we like us so much?
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Err....I m Indian (???)
Ever since I ve moved to the US both Americans and non Americans find it very difficult to place me. I mean I look as Indian as everyone I know except I guess when I had carrot red and blonde hair. Yes in India. Yes I thought it looked kewl.No my parents didnt throw me out.Because I had already moved out :D . But I digress. Most of my conversations with Americans go such
Random person: So ur a Latina
Me: No I m not hispanic
Random person: No, I didnt mean mexican. Latina meaning from the south Americas
Me: No, I m indian
Random Person: Ah, would nt have guessed you re a native
Me: Well what I mean is that I am from India
Random person: Wow. But you dont have the accent u know. The indian accent
Me(amused): So I have the accent of people from South Americas
Random person: No. Its jst different. Like nuthing I ve heard before
Me( shudder since I make a living off speaking and making people like me) : And thats bad?
Random person: Oh no its good...definately good
Me(to myself): Need to slow down on the tequilla shots and call a cab for him/her
As for the Indians here i.e. ppl from India its no simple
Random person(first time we meet): Ah so ur from the north
Me: No not really I m from err...the coast
Random person: Funny ur name sounds nothern and u so look from the north
Me: Well I ve lived in Mumbai all my life
Random person: So ur a Marathi
Me: No I m a Konkani
Random person: Ah, So ur from Goa
Me: Well sorta but Karnataka mite be more accurate
Random person: So where in Karnataka?
and so it goes on
what I fail to understand is how exactly is my nationality or language important for people to relate to me. And why oh why should I find 'tanned white?' or 'lighter skinned Afro American?' flattering?
For the Americans its curiosity I guess which is reserved for everything Non american. Like Tandoori chicken.And no one asks me these questions the first time I meet them or the second.Its generally when we make small talk over martinis.
But with the desis its a whole different ball game.
Disclaimer: This applies to Indians who have left the motherland about 8+ years ago.Again it applies to the mid west part of America where I ve mostly lived. The east and west coasts from what I hear have more Indians and consequently more complex regional divides. Desis who come in for a short stint tend to hang out with people from the same company and are excluded from the great insight I am about to provide.Also this mainly reflects attempts at couple socialising with Indians; u know when u as a couple want to meet other couples so that you can have common friends. Both mine and the Doc s friends are distributed in every state in the US except where we are right now.So we need some new Indian friends other than the American friends we have. So that we can discuss Bansalis new films.Such is life.Also it applies to what I ve been through in the couple of years here and ofcourse may not be the experience you ve had. In which case u ve been luckier
From what little I understand there are two kinds of desis here. The ones that studied here and the ones that migrated for work.
Now for people who migrated here for work depending on which city you originally hail from you tend to group together. Except if you are from the metros. Because then you need to choose. For example if you are a South Indian from Delhi you need to chose if you want to hang out with South Indians or the Delhites or both. Again within the South Indian clan its the Kanadigas, Tamilians and Gults as separates and god forbid you speak of them in the same breath. And the longer the people have lived here the more rigid they are in their disdain towards the other communities. The last city I lived in had separate North Indian and South Indian pujaris in the temple. And last I knew since the South Indian pujari was a Kanadiga, the Gults wanted to get another one. As such I ve only been there once on a day when no community had anything planned. Such days are hard to come by.And the Gurudwara is more welcoming.
If you ve studied here then the only difference is that you may make friends of different communities while in school or stay in touch with old class mates back home.So you may move across the various community groups.Again thats entirely at your discretion since you do have the regional committees like Marathi mandal etc to interact with.Also as years pass and people shift jobs and locations its again back to the community groups.
They tell me its beacuse when you move to a different country/city you first look for a support network which more likely than not will be known friends or family from India and their contacts. And again its about having common things(past?) to speak about. So people from Mumbai stick together and party together because they ofcourse are cooler than everyone around.The Delhites find that amusing:p
For the relatively new people i.e. less than 8 years its slightly different. Mainly because India has supposedly evolved now. With people living out of suitcases, travelling across cities for studies/jobs we ve learnt to adapt(?), understand and form a network of people independant of regional and religious differences. But again to a large extent this will be a group of people belonging to the same school/city in India.
So to sum it a vagrant me can not have a social life with Indians without pledging my solidarity to a particular city/language. Unless I have friends from back home/school here. Which I do but not where I now live.Or if I play cricket which ofcourse is the great equilizer. Because I m not marathi enough, south indian or north indian enough. Because I dont want to discuss my personal life, my salary, my rent, my wardrobe and my visa status with all and sundry.Funny I never did think of all places the US would be where I get my lesson in regional discrimination. Because I never did see it back in India. Or maybe I was just blind. Or stupid. Or both.And yes it sucks to be a social pariah among Indians because you dont really want to sit and crack jokes about other communities over samosas
Friends and family who ve lived here for many many years tell me I need to give in. Identify an Indian community I feel most kin to. So now we hang out with the singles.You know the kind that only worries about their next dinner and drink. Now that is something I can identify with:D
Random person: So ur a Latina
Me: No I m not hispanic
Random person: No, I didnt mean mexican. Latina meaning from the south Americas
Me: No, I m indian
Random Person: Ah, would nt have guessed you re a native
Me: Well what I mean is that I am from India
Random person: Wow. But you dont have the accent u know. The indian accent
Me(amused): So I have the accent of people from South Americas
Random person: No. Its jst different. Like nuthing I ve heard before
Me( shudder since I make a living off speaking and making people like me) : And thats bad?
Random person: Oh no its good...definately good
Me(to myself): Need to slow down on the tequilla shots and call a cab for him/her
As for the Indians here i.e. ppl from India its no simple
Random person(first time we meet): Ah so ur from the north
Me: No not really I m from err...the coast
Random person: Funny ur name sounds nothern and u so look from the north
Me: Well I ve lived in Mumbai all my life
Random person: So ur a Marathi
Me: No I m a Konkani
Random person: Ah, So ur from Goa
Me: Well sorta but Karnataka mite be more accurate
Random person: So where in Karnataka?
and so it goes on
what I fail to understand is how exactly is my nationality or language important for people to relate to me. And why oh why should I find 'tanned white?' or 'lighter skinned Afro American?' flattering?
For the Americans its curiosity I guess which is reserved for everything Non american. Like Tandoori chicken.And no one asks me these questions the first time I meet them or the second.Its generally when we make small talk over martinis.
But with the desis its a whole different ball game.
Disclaimer: This applies to Indians who have left the motherland about 8+ years ago.Again it applies to the mid west part of America where I ve mostly lived. The east and west coasts from what I hear have more Indians and consequently more complex regional divides. Desis who come in for a short stint tend to hang out with people from the same company and are excluded from the great insight I am about to provide.Also this mainly reflects attempts at couple socialising with Indians; u know when u as a couple want to meet other couples so that you can have common friends. Both mine and the Doc s friends are distributed in every state in the US except where we are right now.So we need some new Indian friends other than the American friends we have. So that we can discuss Bansalis new films.Such is life.Also it applies to what I ve been through in the couple of years here and ofcourse may not be the experience you ve had. In which case u ve been luckier
From what little I understand there are two kinds of desis here. The ones that studied here and the ones that migrated for work.
Now for people who migrated here for work depending on which city you originally hail from you tend to group together. Except if you are from the metros. Because then you need to choose. For example if you are a South Indian from Delhi you need to chose if you want to hang out with South Indians or the Delhites or both. Again within the South Indian clan its the Kanadigas, Tamilians and Gults as separates and god forbid you speak of them in the same breath. And the longer the people have lived here the more rigid they are in their disdain towards the other communities. The last city I lived in had separate North Indian and South Indian pujaris in the temple. And last I knew since the South Indian pujari was a Kanadiga, the Gults wanted to get another one. As such I ve only been there once on a day when no community had anything planned. Such days are hard to come by.And the Gurudwara is more welcoming.
If you ve studied here then the only difference is that you may make friends of different communities while in school or stay in touch with old class mates back home.So you may move across the various community groups.Again thats entirely at your discretion since you do have the regional committees like Marathi mandal etc to interact with.Also as years pass and people shift jobs and locations its again back to the community groups.
They tell me its beacuse when you move to a different country/city you first look for a support network which more likely than not will be known friends or family from India and their contacts. And again its about having common things(past?) to speak about. So people from Mumbai stick together and party together because they ofcourse are cooler than everyone around.The Delhites find that amusing:p
For the relatively new people i.e. less than 8 years its slightly different. Mainly because India has supposedly evolved now. With people living out of suitcases, travelling across cities for studies/jobs we ve learnt to adapt(?), understand and form a network of people independant of regional and religious differences. But again to a large extent this will be a group of people belonging to the same school/city in India.
So to sum it a vagrant me can not have a social life with Indians without pledging my solidarity to a particular city/language. Unless I have friends from back home/school here. Which I do but not where I now live.Or if I play cricket which ofcourse is the great equilizer. Because I m not marathi enough, south indian or north indian enough. Because I dont want to discuss my personal life, my salary, my rent, my wardrobe and my visa status with all and sundry.Funny I never did think of all places the US would be where I get my lesson in regional discrimination. Because I never did see it back in India. Or maybe I was just blind. Or stupid. Or both.And yes it sucks to be a social pariah among Indians because you dont really want to sit and crack jokes about other communities over samosas
Friends and family who ve lived here for many many years tell me I need to give in. Identify an Indian community I feel most kin to. So now we hang out with the singles.You know the kind that only worries about their next dinner and drink. Now that is something I can identify with:D
Friday, September 7, 2007
The day of Judgement
“Criticism, as it was first instituted by Aristotle, was meant as a standard of judging well”
- Samuel Johnson
So keeping in line with Aristotle s thoughts I intend to criticize certain mostly human traits in this post. This btw is a tag from Atticus who is one of the five people aware of this blog. The safety the anonymity can offer has nothing to do with the viciousness of the judgmental outlook. I generally walk around with my claws unsheathed. But this is a difficult tag for me. What with my supreme nonchalance towards life and people in general I had to dig real deep to find the prejudice and now spew I will.
They look down their long noses on people who don’t read. I am well read. Or rather was before I got too busy doing things I hadn’t done the last 25 years of my life. And yes I can discuss any book under the sun and enjoy doing it. But that does not give me the right to look down on people who dont read. It is just a activity like say surf boarding and while one supposedly builds character, building muscles is not bad too. I am tired of people behaving condescendingly to the non reading guys. Well people read something because you enjoy it not because its a conversation starter. And definitely not for the halo you think it gives you on the top of your head.
They obsess over others appearance. A friend has put on weight and the whole world takes it upon them selves to compare her to a baby elephant on a public forum. Why does everyone have a say on our appearance? It s my body, my style of dressing, my hair. You don’t really have to look if you don’t like it. Well privately voicing concerns over weight and dressing is obviously much appreciated but humiliating someone and drawing comparison with pigs in heels even if well intentioned (??) sucks
They think invading your private space is their birth right and they just wont take no for an answer. Nothing is too private for them. I usually smile and tell them to take a hike and yes I do get a lot of flak for this. But I resent the asking. My personal life is just that personal. I am very guarded about it and I have friends and family who I discuss it with. But if your not one of them I ll let you know and you don’t have to take it personally
They never feel strongly about anything. They move with the flow and wait for someone else to take a stand. They will talk about their grievances with everyone except talk about it with the very person they have an issue with. They are the wait and watch guys. They generate enough emotion in me to want to bodily harm them
They insist that their actions were to help someone along or due to pressure from someone else. This gives me a laugh. I believe that everyone ultimately chooses to do something because deep down they agree with it. These very people chose to keep justifying their actions. As long as you stick with discussing what works for you that s fine. But when you start pulling others down for their decisions I just think you wished you were in their shoes
They tell me I eat meat and so cannot love animals. By that logic I drink water and so must hate rain. Yeah I know the metaphor is pathetic and so is the aforementioned reasoning
They think everyone except them has had it easy. They either think they are shining pillars of strength and sacrifice or turn into sniveling moping individuals. And they thrive on public sympathy. Just because someone doesn’t discuss their problems it does not mean they ve had an easy ride. And if you’re fighting your demons you are doing it for yourself and that is a selfish reason. If you are sacrificing for your family you owe it to them. So be proud of it. Don’t expect me to be proud of it or sympathize with you. I have my hands full with my issues
I of course have a lot more to add so let’s call it a work in progress. All this purging is making it more and more difficult to hide those horns and that spiked tail :D
- Samuel Johnson
So keeping in line with Aristotle s thoughts I intend to criticize certain mostly human traits in this post. This btw is a tag from Atticus who is one of the five people aware of this blog. The safety the anonymity can offer has nothing to do with the viciousness of the judgmental outlook. I generally walk around with my claws unsheathed. But this is a difficult tag for me. What with my supreme nonchalance towards life and people in general I had to dig real deep to find the prejudice and now spew I will.
They look down their long noses on people who don’t read. I am well read. Or rather was before I got too busy doing things I hadn’t done the last 25 years of my life. And yes I can discuss any book under the sun and enjoy doing it. But that does not give me the right to look down on people who dont read. It is just a activity like say surf boarding and while one supposedly builds character, building muscles is not bad too. I am tired of people behaving condescendingly to the non reading guys. Well people read something because you enjoy it not because its a conversation starter. And definitely not for the halo you think it gives you on the top of your head.
They obsess over others appearance. A friend has put on weight and the whole world takes it upon them selves to compare her to a baby elephant on a public forum. Why does everyone have a say on our appearance? It s my body, my style of dressing, my hair. You don’t really have to look if you don’t like it. Well privately voicing concerns over weight and dressing is obviously much appreciated but humiliating someone and drawing comparison with pigs in heels even if well intentioned (??) sucks
They think invading your private space is their birth right and they just wont take no for an answer. Nothing is too private for them. I usually smile and tell them to take a hike and yes I do get a lot of flak for this. But I resent the asking. My personal life is just that personal. I am very guarded about it and I have friends and family who I discuss it with. But if your not one of them I ll let you know and you don’t have to take it personally
They never feel strongly about anything. They move with the flow and wait for someone else to take a stand. They will talk about their grievances with everyone except talk about it with the very person they have an issue with. They are the wait and watch guys. They generate enough emotion in me to want to bodily harm them
They insist that their actions were to help someone along or due to pressure from someone else. This gives me a laugh. I believe that everyone ultimately chooses to do something because deep down they agree with it. These very people chose to keep justifying their actions. As long as you stick with discussing what works for you that s fine. But when you start pulling others down for their decisions I just think you wished you were in their shoes
They tell me I eat meat and so cannot love animals. By that logic I drink water and so must hate rain. Yeah I know the metaphor is pathetic and so is the aforementioned reasoning
They think everyone except them has had it easy. They either think they are shining pillars of strength and sacrifice or turn into sniveling moping individuals. And they thrive on public sympathy. Just because someone doesn’t discuss their problems it does not mean they ve had an easy ride. And if you’re fighting your demons you are doing it for yourself and that is a selfish reason. If you are sacrificing for your family you owe it to them. So be proud of it. Don’t expect me to be proud of it or sympathize with you. I have my hands full with my issues
I of course have a lot more to add so let’s call it a work in progress. All this purging is making it more and more difficult to hide those horns and that spiked tail :D
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Expecto Patronum!
I had no intention of buying the book. Well I knew I d have the online copy in a couple of hours. So there I sat at the window at B & N trying to read and looking at the little witches and wizards shivering with excitement and wondered what the fuss was about.
Well I love Potter.I half read the second one and didnt like it so much. And then started again to finish the first 4 in a week. I absolutely refused to watch the movies. Having very definite ideas about what everything/everyone should look like I very much wanted to hold on to my imagination. But then one lazy afternoon I saw the movies and loved them too.
So now with the final one coming out I definately wanted to know how Rowling would choose to end it all. I was just finding it difficult to comprehend the hysteria, the craze. But sitting at that window looking at parents bring in their kids to put down their names for the books; I think I finally understood.
At a time when teens stand in lines to buy an iPhone paying 600$ to get bound into a two year contract; knowing that people still stand in line for books is a bit comforting
For a 10 year old reading a book that the 15 year old sibling also reads is a tremendous ego boost and an indelible part of growing up just like my Enid Blytons
Friends can be made easily when you share the same marker pen scar on the forehead
'He has glasses like me' a 5 year old squealed. Yes you now know that you can always threathen that big bully calling you a four eyed toad with your wand.
With rampant online book piracy (well I dont condone nor condemn it) being interested enough to buy a hard bound book bodes good feels right
A mid night party surrounded by books and dressed up mommies and daddies acting/reading out the story sounds like fun even to the big kid that I am
For someone born in the 80 s who wasnt a flower child, not a part of the Star Wars Club,didnt have a fav girl band its nice to be part of something global:D (ofcourse by this I mean a fun thing not to be confused with global issues)
Most of all even when ur all grown up at 25 you still know that if JM Barrie s ghost says clap if you believe in fairies you will be standing tall and clapping your heart out. Some of those books did the magic for me and now Potter does it for so many others.
You see Potter didnt start off as a craze but slowly became one when people of all generations loved the book,the amazing story telling that J.K. Rowling does for kids who can imagine and grownups who want to remember what it was like to let imagination run wild. So yes the fuss was definately worth it. Maybe it was marketing, maybe its all about money but I guess the kids dont know that. And just for them its all worth it
And yes I read the book , a perfect hard bound book and loved it. A gift from a guy who abhors piracy in all forms. (And I thought I had growing up to do:D) . Yeah and though I am a confirmed Slytherin the nerdy part of me proudly wears the Ravenclaw wristband:))). Now if I only I could only find a wand and make my way to Neverland:)
Well I love Potter.I half read the second one and didnt like it so much. And then started again to finish the first 4 in a week. I absolutely refused to watch the movies. Having very definite ideas about what everything/everyone should look like I very much wanted to hold on to my imagination. But then one lazy afternoon I saw the movies and loved them too.
So now with the final one coming out I definately wanted to know how Rowling would choose to end it all. I was just finding it difficult to comprehend the hysteria, the craze. But sitting at that window looking at parents bring in their kids to put down their names for the books; I think I finally understood.
At a time when teens stand in lines to buy an iPhone paying 600$ to get bound into a two year contract; knowing that people still stand in line for books is a bit comforting
For a 10 year old reading a book that the 15 year old sibling also reads is a tremendous ego boost and an indelible part of growing up just like my Enid Blytons
Friends can be made easily when you share the same marker pen scar on the forehead
'He has glasses like me' a 5 year old squealed. Yes you now know that you can always threathen that big bully calling you a four eyed toad with your wand.
With rampant online book piracy (well I dont condone nor condemn it) being interested enough to buy a hard bound book bodes good feels right
A mid night party surrounded by books and dressed up mommies and daddies acting/reading out the story sounds like fun even to the big kid that I am
For someone born in the 80 s who wasnt a flower child, not a part of the Star Wars Club,didnt have a fav girl band its nice to be part of something global:D (ofcourse by this I mean a fun thing not to be confused with global issues)
Most of all even when ur all grown up at 25 you still know that if JM Barrie s ghost says clap if you believe in fairies you will be standing tall and clapping your heart out. Some of those books did the magic for me and now Potter does it for so many others.
You see Potter didnt start off as a craze but slowly became one when people of all generations loved the book,the amazing story telling that J.K. Rowling does for kids who can imagine and grownups who want to remember what it was like to let imagination run wild. So yes the fuss was definately worth it. Maybe it was marketing, maybe its all about money but I guess the kids dont know that. And just for them its all worth it
And yes I read the book , a perfect hard bound book and loved it. A gift from a guy who abhors piracy in all forms. (And I thought I had growing up to do:D) . Yeah and though I am a confirmed Slytherin the nerdy part of me proudly wears the Ravenclaw wristband:))). Now if I only I could only find a wand and make my way to Neverland:)
Friday, July 6, 2007
My Cat
She was brown with sploches of grey and a white tummy. A pink nose and a split tail that made it furry like a squirrels. And wicked yellow eyes with specks of green and gold.They were squeezed shut the first day I held her.
She fit right into my palm and was a few minutes old.After nursing she didnt go to sleep like the rest of her siblings. With her nose sniffing she crawled around till she found my finger. Her tiny head resting on it she went off to sleep.Well from the finger, then palm, then the crook of the arm and finally the tummy the progress didnt really take more than a few months.
She d be at the door everyday waiting for me to get back from school.And jump into my arms and lick my face with her sandpaper tongue.Then we d have lunch together, she sitting on my lap with the bowl raised up right up to her nose and then an afternoon siesta again on my lap was well next on the agenda.
In between this she did make time to fly off the second floor balcony of our apartment failing a running contest with my neighbours Alsation dog. Two cracked ribs and a bloody nose didnt stop her from getting to a pigeon on the balcony above a month later. And this time she spent a couple of hours dangling from a water pipe right where no one could reach her.
Well the absence of mice didnt really dampen her hunting spirit. She did manage to catch pigeons and sparrows right by the neck and drop them at my feet. Well looking how skinny I was growing up I guess she just wanted to feed me. She didnt kill them or hurt them so I just had to scoop her up and move away so that the dazed bird could fly off.
She had her babies on my lap and insited on living there till she discovered my parents bed. The arrangement was perfect because well she coudnt have kept an eye on me and the babies at the same time right? So she kept at my heel while my mum cared for the babies.A couple of months later she topped the record number of days for recovery after being neutered. 21 days. She split her stitches five times jumping in excitement when she saw me.
And did she love her babies!!! She would lovingly clean them all over move them a couple of inches apart, put her head on the tummy of one and feet on the other and go to sleep. I did try telling her thats not what babies are for but I guess mothers know best.
She looked over me all through school and college. I mean literally sitting next to the books and looking at me every day as I studied.And then I had to move cities. New job new apartment. And no I couldnt take her. You see she mauled people she didnt know from birth. So I d speak to her on the phone every day and I d hop over home for a visit over the weekend.
Then came the day when I had to move again and this time to a different country. For a guy she didnt like much the first time they met. So I promised her the daily calls and yearly visit and she went off sulking onto my mothers lap.
She didnt believe me.
I missed my one year mark. She died a couple of weeks later.
She fit right into my palm and was a few minutes old.After nursing she didnt go to sleep like the rest of her siblings. With her nose sniffing she crawled around till she found my finger. Her tiny head resting on it she went off to sleep.Well from the finger, then palm, then the crook of the arm and finally the tummy the progress didnt really take more than a few months.
She d be at the door everyday waiting for me to get back from school.And jump into my arms and lick my face with her sandpaper tongue.Then we d have lunch together, she sitting on my lap with the bowl raised up right up to her nose and then an afternoon siesta again on my lap was well next on the agenda.
In between this she did make time to fly off the second floor balcony of our apartment failing a running contest with my neighbours Alsation dog. Two cracked ribs and a bloody nose didnt stop her from getting to a pigeon on the balcony above a month later. And this time she spent a couple of hours dangling from a water pipe right where no one could reach her.
Well the absence of mice didnt really dampen her hunting spirit. She did manage to catch pigeons and sparrows right by the neck and drop them at my feet. Well looking how skinny I was growing up I guess she just wanted to feed me. She didnt kill them or hurt them so I just had to scoop her up and move away so that the dazed bird could fly off.
She had her babies on my lap and insited on living there till she discovered my parents bed. The arrangement was perfect because well she coudnt have kept an eye on me and the babies at the same time right? So she kept at my heel while my mum cared for the babies.A couple of months later she topped the record number of days for recovery after being neutered. 21 days. She split her stitches five times jumping in excitement when she saw me.
And did she love her babies!!! She would lovingly clean them all over move them a couple of inches apart, put her head on the tummy of one and feet on the other and go to sleep. I did try telling her thats not what babies are for but I guess mothers know best.
She looked over me all through school and college. I mean literally sitting next to the books and looking at me every day as I studied.And then I had to move cities. New job new apartment. And no I couldnt take her. You see she mauled people she didnt know from birth. So I d speak to her on the phone every day and I d hop over home for a visit over the weekend.
Then came the day when I had to move again and this time to a different country. For a guy she didnt like much the first time they met. So I promised her the daily calls and yearly visit and she went off sulking onto my mothers lap.
She didnt believe me.
I missed my one year mark. She died a couple of weeks later.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Writers Block
They say every one s got a book in them..then why the f@&% cant I even get a blog out!!!
Friday, March 23, 2007
Surf + Sand = Fun
While on the topic of vacations I got thinking of some of mine. In my short life I ve run through the entire gamut i.e. the good the better and the best:D.Well there s no such thing as a bad vacation is there??...Some I can write about and some I dont wanna. So here are a few notes from my memories on a couple of them
10 day bike trip through the beaches of Manglore
Well I dont ride a bike and am just a reluctant pillion rider. And this trip had 10 days and nights full of it. Riding through vacant beaches, racing with the surf, trying to bring in ships with a flashlight in unused light houses, collecting perfect shells bare foot in the white sand, helping fishermen clean their nets at night, listening to their many stories with my cousin adding the gory stuff to make it interesting... well I could go on and on. I had desperately needed a break so I took up my cousins offer on a whim and I can truthfully say it was one of the best decisions I made at 18. We had to visit his paternal grandmother on the way and since she was the best story teller I ever knew the deal was clinched. I refused to wear a helmet. I was still at a age where bad hair day didnt mean anything and freckles were cute. So that meant the wind rushing through my waist length hair, red pricks all over my face where the drizzling rain worked like stone pellets, cuts and bruises where leaves and branches lashed at my face but fun it was. We went long hours wthout speaking...just soaking it in... and yeah we took no pictures. Maybe thats why I can close my eyes and relive it without the camera lens fogging the memories.The 10 days taught me quite a bit: there is a difference between the dawn and the dusk skies, fish tastes awesome when grilled on coal, people will feed you, talk to you, hug you even if they dont know you just because you have a smile on your face, fishes bite the feed in the wee hours of morning, freckles stay for life, the best way to dis entangle hair filled with sand is to chop it off, gawky older teenage brothers are not that weird, grandmothers will tell you their secret recipe for pickles if you let her know that she is the best of the lot and yeah grandmothers have a way of making your parents really really interesting.
4 days at a cottage in Alibaug
Yeah I am very much a beach person. So much so that the sight of snow for the first time at 25 just got a 'eh?' out of me. So coming back to Alibaug a cousins friend had a cottage in Alibaug that she rented out. Since no marriages were scheduled to happen that year 10 of my 25 first cousins on my maternal side in Bombay needed a different reason to meet up. So we rented the cottage. The back door of the cottage opened out on a lovely strip of Kihim beach which suprisingly was devoid of tresspassers. And the lovely couple who were the caretakers were also awesome cooks. So with my couzins and their partners and a couple of tiny tots we made one big happy family . Lazy days at the beach , teaching a three year old to make a sand castle, wiping his tears when a huge wave took it away, swimming out in the sea, drinking toddy, eating crabs, fishes , shrimps with rice cakes and bhakris, working up a tan (not that I needed it:D) that took 2 months to wear off were some of my faviourite things that long weekend. But nuthing beat hearing my couzins kid say his first cuss word in Marathi i.e. "Ailaa". Sigh!! ...Kids grow up so soon
10 day bike trip through the beaches of Manglore
Well I dont ride a bike and am just a reluctant pillion rider. And this trip had 10 days and nights full of it. Riding through vacant beaches, racing with the surf, trying to bring in ships with a flashlight in unused light houses, collecting perfect shells bare foot in the white sand, helping fishermen clean their nets at night, listening to their many stories with my cousin adding the gory stuff to make it interesting... well I could go on and on. I had desperately needed a break so I took up my cousins offer on a whim and I can truthfully say it was one of the best decisions I made at 18. We had to visit his paternal grandmother on the way and since she was the best story teller I ever knew the deal was clinched. I refused to wear a helmet. I was still at a age where bad hair day didnt mean anything and freckles were cute. So that meant the wind rushing through my waist length hair, red pricks all over my face where the drizzling rain worked like stone pellets, cuts and bruises where leaves and branches lashed at my face but fun it was. We went long hours wthout speaking...just soaking it in... and yeah we took no pictures. Maybe thats why I can close my eyes and relive it without the camera lens fogging the memories.The 10 days taught me quite a bit: there is a difference between the dawn and the dusk skies, fish tastes awesome when grilled on coal, people will feed you, talk to you, hug you even if they dont know you just because you have a smile on your face, fishes bite the feed in the wee hours of morning, freckles stay for life, the best way to dis entangle hair filled with sand is to chop it off, gawky older teenage brothers are not that weird, grandmothers will tell you their secret recipe for pickles if you let her know that she is the best of the lot and yeah grandmothers have a way of making your parents really really interesting.
4 days at a cottage in Alibaug
Yeah I am very much a beach person. So much so that the sight of snow for the first time at 25 just got a 'eh?' out of me. So coming back to Alibaug a cousins friend had a cottage in Alibaug that she rented out. Since no marriages were scheduled to happen that year 10 of my 25 first cousins on my maternal side in Bombay needed a different reason to meet up. So we rented the cottage. The back door of the cottage opened out on a lovely strip of Kihim beach which suprisingly was devoid of tresspassers. And the lovely couple who were the caretakers were also awesome cooks. So with my couzins and their partners and a couple of tiny tots we made one big happy family . Lazy days at the beach , teaching a three year old to make a sand castle, wiping his tears when a huge wave took it away, swimming out in the sea, drinking toddy, eating crabs, fishes , shrimps with rice cakes and bhakris, working up a tan (not that I needed it:D) that took 2 months to wear off were some of my faviourite things that long weekend. But nuthing beat hearing my couzins kid say his first cuss word in Marathi i.e. "Ailaa". Sigh!! ...Kids grow up so soon
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Growing up!
A couple of weeks back we had a blizzard followed by a ice storm followed by a snow storm. No, I dont know what the difference is just that its a whole lot of snow.
I woke up early just to check the closure announcements and yeah the offices were closed just like the schools. :D.I did my happy holiday dance with whoops which is more like lifting both my feet at once and having a bad fall but more about that later. And then immediately woke up people in different time zones to check if I get paid for that day.
I was happy and not only because I had a unplanned holiday. I really enjoy doing what I do now and work days are fun. What I was tickled about was that I was having a paid vacation. The funny thing is as I child I was just happy to get a day off and yeah I did like going to school...everybody thought I was smart.. even the kids!. But now it takes a wee bit more to enjoy that holiday
Just when do we move on from thinking a fun vacation is lying on our backs with snotty nosed cousins playing imaginary battles with marching clouds to matching up the entertainment factor vs money spent? Well the price you pay for growing up:(
I woke up early just to check the closure announcements and yeah the offices were closed just like the schools. :D.I did my happy holiday dance with whoops which is more like lifting both my feet at once and having a bad fall but more about that later. And then immediately woke up people in different time zones to check if I get paid for that day.
I was happy and not only because I had a unplanned holiday. I really enjoy doing what I do now and work days are fun. What I was tickled about was that I was having a paid vacation. The funny thing is as I child I was just happy to get a day off and yeah I did like going to school...everybody thought I was smart.. even the kids!. But now it takes a wee bit more to enjoy that holiday
Just when do we move on from thinking a fun vacation is lying on our backs with snotty nosed cousins playing imaginary battles with marching clouds to matching up the entertainment factor vs money spent? Well the price you pay for growing up:(
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Scrambled Eggs it is!!!
Yep thats how I like my eggs and yes..with toast. I got to thinking about the tiny mundane things that dont really impact anything in life but just make up most of it. Many a times I ve done things for the heck of it .. nary a thought if they were just fillers or well.. likable. So like all first posts or ones that would hopefully follow I decided to pen my utterly inconsequential thoughts on the matter at hand.
I like reading books. No not paperbacks, not magazines just hardbound books.And I read because I enjoy the play of words. I wouldnt remember the premise, the names... well absolutely nothing except if I loved the way it was written and phrases with the best word play. And no I dont discuss them. I just read and chew by myself.
I do not like comics unless they contain philosophy, never did.Yeah CnH and Garfield and yes it is philosophical
I dont find clowns funny. Only Tom and Jerry is funny. Everything else is an act .
I do not like driving. I liked it very much in India but not now. The funs out of driving when you get pulled over for driving at 35 in a 25 street.
I have no interest in cars and as long as it moves I dont really care what I travel in. Now that I think of it I kinda like bicycles.
I like sitcoms. These have go be humourous.I sit passively in front of what I always lovingly referred to as "crap box" and am slowly numbed into an unblinking idiot. I might even dribble. I never laugh as a rule. I can do manage a huge grin but thats as far as I get.
I like being organised. Actually am obsessed about it. I pack my bags for office everynight, arrange the cushions so that they do not look arranged, know where the second box of toothpicks is in the closet by the laundromat, eat food in china with each piece of a different color. Yes I plan it so that it looks disorganised. Its a disease.
I like crosswords and jigsaw puzzles and I do those when having to make life defining decisions. With every grid I complete I find with greater clarity the path not to take. And by the time I finish I ve already thought of the excuses I need to go down the very same path.
I like walking. I walk an hour on the treadmill. Not run always walk at the running speed and hold on for dear life and hope that my legs dont snap at my knees.
I like animals and can maim someone for life if I do so find them hurting animals in any way. And I can also eat them without any twinge of conscience. And I dont find that weird.
I do not like flowers. I like it when red rose buds are given to me but just the thought and the red. Never the flowers
I like red and black and white. In that order. Other colours do not exist.
I like perfume. Only the CK One(s). No not Versace not Fendi not Doir not Chanel. Just the one.
I have a fettish for hangbags and I like them huge. Real huge.If I go out camping I could use mine for a sleeping bag
I like talking to myself. Not aloud. And I like talking to my laptop, my food and anything inanimate round me. I do not like talking to people unless they have paid me. Or will pay me.
And yes..finally I like scrambled eggs. Not eggs with the sunny side up, or down or any side. Just scrambled. :)
I like reading books. No not paperbacks, not magazines just hardbound books.And I read because I enjoy the play of words. I wouldnt remember the premise, the names... well absolutely nothing except if I loved the way it was written and phrases with the best word play. And no I dont discuss them. I just read and chew by myself.
I do not like comics unless they contain philosophy, never did.Yeah CnH and Garfield and yes it is philosophical
I dont find clowns funny. Only Tom and Jerry is funny. Everything else is an act .
I do not like driving. I liked it very much in India but not now. The funs out of driving when you get pulled over for driving at 35 in a 25 street.
I have no interest in cars and as long as it moves I dont really care what I travel in. Now that I think of it I kinda like bicycles.
I like sitcoms. These have go be humourous.I sit passively in front of what I always lovingly referred to as "crap box" and am slowly numbed into an unblinking idiot. I might even dribble. I never laugh as a rule. I can do manage a huge grin but thats as far as I get.
I like being organised. Actually am obsessed about it. I pack my bags for office everynight, arrange the cushions so that they do not look arranged, know where the second box of toothpicks is in the closet by the laundromat, eat food in china with each piece of a different color. Yes I plan it so that it looks disorganised. Its a disease.
I like crosswords and jigsaw puzzles and I do those when having to make life defining decisions. With every grid I complete I find with greater clarity the path not to take. And by the time I finish I ve already thought of the excuses I need to go down the very same path.
I like walking. I walk an hour on the treadmill. Not run always walk at the running speed and hold on for dear life and hope that my legs dont snap at my knees.
I like animals and can maim someone for life if I do so find them hurting animals in any way. And I can also eat them without any twinge of conscience. And I dont find that weird.
I do not like flowers. I like it when red rose buds are given to me but just the thought and the red. Never the flowers
I like red and black and white. In that order. Other colours do not exist.
I like perfume. Only the CK One(s). No not Versace not Fendi not Doir not Chanel. Just the one.
I have a fettish for hangbags and I like them huge. Real huge.If I go out camping I could use mine for a sleeping bag
I like talking to myself. Not aloud. And I like talking to my laptop, my food and anything inanimate round me. I do not like talking to people unless they have paid me. Or will pay me.
And yes..finally I like scrambled eggs. Not eggs with the sunny side up, or down or any side. Just scrambled. :)
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