PaaPottu

We spent a nice and refreshing weekend at Coorg-Madikeri.
With a splendid climate and lovely coffee plantations drowned in mist around, our stay there was nothing short of bliss.
We used to set out on foot early morning, have steaming coffee [Coorg coffee] after a filling breakfast and return to our room, jut to set out again, with our pre-appointed guide, who would drive us to various points around Madikeri and leave us at our hotel by dinner time.

On one such ride back to our hotel, we bumped into PaaPottu.
Now Madikeri is really famous for its coffee, cardamom, pepper, oranges, and ofcourse for local cuisine like Pandhi Curry(Pork Curry), Kadumbuttu (Rice Dumplings), Koli Curry (Chicken Curry), Nool Puttu ( Rice Noodles), Bembla Curry (Bamboo Shoot Curry) ,Votti (Rice Roti) and Paaputtu (Rice cake).

Since we are veggies, the delicious Pandhi and Koli curries were formidable for us. Bembla was out of season. Only options at our disposal were Votti, Kadumbuttu, Nool Puttu and Paaputtu.
Since I now have these names at hand, I can confidently say what is what.
But that wasn't the case when we were in the car with our driver, and we had no handy reference to these names. So what we actuallly ended up asking was
" where do we get to eat puttu nuttu [ that was supposed to be nool puttu] ,
dumkuttu [kadumbuttu],
akki roti [ well rice rotis we did remember , but votti we didn't ]
and the sweet thing made of steamed rice? [ Paaputtu! ] "

In the above words when the query was made to our confused-tired-but-very-very-enthusiastic driver, he braked and skidded and wheeled the car in such frenzy that we feared someting really snapped inside him on the mention of these delicacies.

" Saar.. you want to taste pork? Verrri nice and famous here saar.. local foodda saar.. christmas time.. I can parcel it and deliver to your room.. " he said.
My husband, who wasn't much for the local stuff neways.. gave up immediately.
But I persisited.. " that sweet thing with rice..ottu, otti some thing ..." I said.

And then light dwaned upon him.. " PaaPottu madam.. its not available in hotels.. tomarrow morning, arder deke rakhta mein ek chotta mess hain oodhar.." he promised.

So next morning when we set out again, he stopped the car in a tiny lane, and went inside a tiny looking shed and told someting to a middle-aged lady there. She came out, waved and smiled at us. On our way back, the driver re-visited her. This time she handed a steel plate with a white mass covered with coconut spread evenly, covered with a plastic sheet. She went in and handed 2 sppons as well.
" Its very hot now. let it cool, then cut into squares and eat madam. " she said.
I was very happy to get an authentic madikeri receipe to taste.

Sometime later when we actually tasted it..well.. all I can say is I was disappointed. The stuff was really light and fluffy, but there wasn't anything cake-ish about it. It wasn't even sweet.
But this was for the insiders..
For those who haven't had it.. well do taste Paaputtu when you are in Madikeri!

A Walk In The Rain

Yesterday was a wonderful evening for me. And Kinda wierd for my husband.

It so happened that I had purchased a splendid pair of splendid all-season shoes, which fitted my feet a bit too splendidly. I wore them to office yesterday, and they splendidly started bitting my feet, the shoes I mean.

It was a cool and misty Bangalore evening and it had just drizzled. I had tried in all possible ways to keep the shoes on, but I just couldn't keep them on.

"Are you okay with those?" asked my husband, as we were about to come out of our tower, to go to the bus-bay.
And that did it.
"NOOOOO" I wailed.
"Then just take those shoes off" he said.
" But this is office, and I don't have any spare pair!" I said.
" Want to try wearing my socks?" he asked. [ I could see an evil grin spreading across his face, as he was enjoying this conversation ]
"No way. I can't wear your socks and the shoes" I said.
" Okie, go ahead then" he said.
So, I took out a neatly folded "health n glow" cover from my purse, and put those biting monsters in it.

At the security check, the guard peeped into the plastic cover, sneaked a look at my feet and then smiled. Mr. Hubby looked at the ceiling [which wasn't there] and then hastily came out.

And then the wonderful walk in the rain began.
My hubby suggested that he would walk a few steps ahead of me [ and by a few steps, I'm sure he meant at-least a mile]
"Nay" I said.
So we proceeded, side by side, towards the bus bay.
People who weren't too busy not to notice us, looked up and smiled.
Some just raised their brows, some grinned, some turned back to confirm.
I smiled back to all of them.
My hubby shrugged his shoulders and made a " I-don't-know-whats-wrong-with-her-but-still" kind of face.
And I trotted on the well mowed lawns of our office premise, first. It was lovely.
Then on the paved path, it was kinda no-that-lovely.
And then on the concrete ground. Which was far-from-lovely.
Then on the red wet earth, which was just ooh-aah-OUCH!
We had to cross over a small road to reach the other side of the office, where the buses were parked.
Once we reached there, I again stepped for a few secs on the wet lawn, and it was bliss!

My feet were all pink and wet and a bit muddy, but I was enjoying the cool breeze, the wet touch of rain on those bruised feet.
My hubby , by now, was growing comfortable with the situation, and was realxing a bit.
"You walked on the grass." he said. " Its lovely." I said.
"I wish I could do that too." he said. And we smiled, together this time.

its raining outside..

[trying my hand at poetry....]

its raining outside.
constant, pitter patter.
muddy puddles, muddy streams.
colorful umbrellas,greener trees.
some are happy, some are snappy, others move on.

its raining outside.
constant, pitter patter.
some crouch under carts and shiver.
some look up in the rain and smile.
some fuss, some cuss, others move on.

its raining outside.
constant, pitter patter.
pebbles drown with a plonk.
paper boats float across.
some stay, some give away, others move on.

its raining outside.
constant, pitter patter.
slush that clings to your feet.
a rainbow of spilt oil on water.
some wink, some blink, others move on.

its raining outside.
constant, pitter patter.
its the song of life.
for those ears that strive.
some listen, some hear, others move on.

[ .....And am happie with the outcome. ]

To Be or Not To Be?

To Be or Not To Be HONEST.. is a very very difficult decision.
Its almost tortureous at times.
And lets thank our up-bringings and childhood impressions first, then the world around us today, for this. These two factors generally cook a neat contrast, and make one struggle for simple things in life; like being honest.
For many a decisions we need to make today, we need to make choices, and one of them might invariably be about being honest, or not being honest, to say.

You don't be honest, and you might get a good deal,
you might successfully back-stab someone and move on,
you might enjoy a lil bit of taxfree money,
you might effortlessly get through some selections,
you might distance yourself from the dreaded legal hassles,
you might deceive someone for life without his/her knowledge and still enjoy their association,
you might come clean of some well deserved accusations,
you might avoid giving all those justifications,
you might be politically correct,
you might enjoy a materially rich life, and let others lead the same too..
And all this comes at a very little price, you lose a little peace and a tiny piece of your mind.

Be honest, and what do you get?
A 'pat-on-the-back', a clear conscience and yeah, may be a couple of missed opportunities, a bucks lesser in your purse, and a few lost friends (so-called?). You see a lot of others whizz past you in the race of life. You might get into the self-doubt dilemmas, you might want to regret being on the right path.
And if all's well, you have the peace of mind, and a materially rewarding life too, where all your possesions just trigger pride and bitter sweet memories of the toil that went in acquiring them.
You can meet everyone's gaze and rightfully pass on the baton to those eager to carry it forward.
Surprisingly, there's little to say about the benifits of being honest, but little said, it still stands big. Its more intangible, than tangible I think.

So the confusion still looms, like opting for an ideal investment plan, do I take the short term benifits and be happy, or invest for a bigger cause?

Lets add to this confusion by quoting this, which again boils down to being or not being honest..

Satyam bruyat, priyam bruyat, na bruyat satyam aapriyam..
[ Speak the truth, and speak such that it pleases (others), but don't speak the truth which is not favoured (by others)..]

Brands!

Well.. just a few thoughts that were triggered by my friend, Sats' comments, abt me trying to advertise for Kodak through my previous blog. :-)
Talk about Brand building. Some brands are so tightly coupled with the products, that a similar product of some other brand also ends up being called by the established brand's name! Some brands just monopolize the market, and are the first ones to be referred for a particular product.
Lemme explain.

DALDA. Yeah, the name which is so very synonymous to any vegetable oil being used in thousands of Indian households. Be it any [ read any brand's] vegetable oil, its almost always called and refered to as DALDA. Now thatz some really serious brand building, say laymen :-)

TINOLPOL. This was a famous bleaching agent esp of the yester years, for clothes, . TINOPOL [Calcofluor White] was made synonymous with the degree of whiteness, to the extent of calling sparkling canines Tinopol white! :-)

CADBURY or DAIRYMILK. This ain't as prevelant as the previous one, but many might agree that generally any bar of chocolate is referred as CADBURY . Esp in the LMC and MC households of India. Also, the ubiquitous DAIRYMILK [ its Cadbury's milk chocolate brand. There are plain chocolate bars offered by Cadbury as well, under Cadbury Bournville ]. Any Cadbury's regular bar in India[as in, not the Temptations and Desserts etc] is referred to as DairyMilk.

KODAK. This can be an example of how effective a product is marketed. Many refer the moments to be cherished or recorded as the Kodak Moments.

RASNA. This soft drink concentrate really ruled [and still rules i guess?] the household sector. Come summer and Rasna was omnipresent in most of the Indian households. Such widespread has been its appeal that you can still come across a housewife asking.. "kya loge? chai, coffee, Rasna? "

AMUL BUTTER. This case is similar to the DALDA case. This breadspread has been so popular,that it almost monopolised the pasturised salted butter market. Even recipes used to refer "100 gm of AMUL Butter.. " :-)

Am adding a few more examples,

XEROX. Its so soooo common to say getting a Xerox, when all one means is getting a photocopy of the original document. Things being identical are synonymous to things being Xerox copies..and that says all about the phenomenal success of the Xerox Office Copiers.
PS: Thanks Manoj, this brand is sooo popular that just slipped outta my mind to consider it as a brand at all! :-)

TETRAPAK. The packaging solution provided by Tetrapak [packaging,processing and aseptic technology] became so popular, that this form of packaging has has introduced the brand itself as the commodity.. "stuff being tetrapacked.. " says it all.

GODREJ. The storewells of this brand have gained huge stronghold in Indian households. And any cupboard with a similar look n feel is fortunate enuff to be called a "Godrej" :-)

VOLVO. A luxury bus with A/C, TV and reclining comfortable seats is called a VOLVO. :-)

BISLERI. Bottled/Packaged drinking/mineral water. Be it anything, all is BISLERI.

BANDAID. be it a bruise or a boil, scrape or a cut, one applies a BandAid. The adhesive bandage brand of Johnson & Johnson really seals shut any other competion.
And there are many which are ubiquitous on the home medication front; Vicks, Crocin, Glycodin, Benadryl, Tiger Balm, Iodex, .. and the list goes on...

Many of these brands hail from the yesters, and have maintained their popularity through the passing years. Some brands were popular once, but now one rarely hears of them. [remember the soft drink GoldSpot? or the mini chocolate bar, Fonda? , the Kismi toffees ?]
The olden days had lesser options and markets weren't flooded with brands and products galore. Some brands sustained the flood and are still enjoying a loyal consumer support. Others will just keep coming, and going too..

Kodak Moments !

There are certain moments in life, which remain on the canvas of your mind for a long looooong time.

They are not always the moments to cherish; neither are they always spectacular or grand; but still, they stay, as everlasting memories.
These memories aren't always very elaborate or detailed, but they do assume a distinct picture frame, with poingant colors and boundaries.
They aren't like a film being played in your mind, but more like a slide-show.
They are frozen potraits or painitngs in time, but very much alive with their scents, sounds and colors.

And the 'pointers' to these memories aren't always visual.
I mean a certain memory floods into your mind by a familiar smell, by a familiar feeeling, by a familiar sound....

The smell of earth, just before it rains, always triggers memories of summer holidays.
So does the smell of mogra flowers. During summer, these flower vendors would stroll into our lanes after sunset, and the entire lane would be fragrant with that intoxicating smell. We kids would be allowed to be up till late night, and watch the ladies of the house make gajras [small streams of flowers needled into threads] .
The smell of new textbooks reminds me of some 7th or 8th std history textbook with sepia colored picture of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose [why him of all other leaders that we studied? dunno..]
The sound of cow-bells always reminds me of the mobile-sugarcane-juice-vendors who passed by our lanes selling the cool n sweet juice. The juicer had these bells hooked at one end of its handle.
When ever I get butterflies in my tummy, it reminds me of the first reluctant plunge in water during my swimming classes. [i wonder how many times these swimming classes are going to figure in my blogs! :-D ]
Any mention of the movie, Broken Arrow [John Travolata] triggers a memory-avalanche of my Engg days, esp the submission night-outs, coz during 1 such night out we all had watched this movie on HBO. :-D

I believe that each one of us has his/her own copy of an album; tucked away in some corner of the mind, which treasures such Kodak Moments.
They mean much to us, and invariably surface when the "pointers" pop up!
The best thing is , this album keeps on growing with us, and I believe a time will come when every thing we see, every thing we smell, every thing we touch, evry thing we feel will have its own special memory attached with it, and life will become one beautiful collage of Kodak Moments! :-)

Cheap Thrills?

While flipping the channels, came across this one on Discovery.
The lives of stunstmen in Indian Cinema.
Most of them were so much like.. us! I mean no hunky figures, no flashy gears, no fans, no media, no camera clicks swarming them.
Many made almost the same picture: boot cuts/ acid washed/ monkey washed pants of some non-brand brand, latest fashioned, but cheaper versions of shirts / Tees , few had gutkha stained teeth, few younger ones had highlighted hair, pierced ears, many had an assortment of dhagas on their wrists;black,red,yellow,saffron, some junk jewels around the neck.. that forced hep look one can say.
The documentary said there were no safety measures/ insurances or other securities in place for these ppl.If somebody was injured, or worse, dead, the family recieved one-time compensation,and the one-time dare devil would be lost in anonimity.

One Mr. Shetty [ i forgot the 1st name..] was being interviewed.
He has been paralysed waist-down, at an active age of 30 smthing.
He met with a fatal accident while rehearsing for a free fall from a helicopter for some movie.
And since it wasn't during the actual shoot, he was denied the liable compensation.
Help was offered for initial rounds of treatment, but now he is on his own. He spoke bitterly about the fame and fortune the actual actors [ lets say heroes ] earned at his cost.

The documentary also showed an action scene being shot, down south. They were using a crude pulley to catapult one of the goons, when the hero hits out at him. As exagerrated as it may sound, the stuntsman was supposed to be lifted off the scene almost 15 feet above the ground, and hurled outside the frame.
The pulley misfuntioned and the stunt went horribly wrong. The stuntsman landed on his back with a thud. He winced in pain, and few of the crew rushed to help. The fall was nasty, but damage wasn't much. Once again the fellow was ready for the shot. This time all went well. There was visible relief on his face.
"darr toh lagta hain, but jaab saab theek hota hain, to majaa ata hain! ", he grinned at the camera.
One reporter who has covered shoots in Hollywood commented that there are safety analysts and stunt experts present at the shoot. Stuntsmen are provided with maximum safety gears and are well covered for injuries and damages incurred during the stunts.
There is a special training school for "risky driving" required for chase sequences or car-actions.
Why don't we have that, I thought. After all, we too have a huge film industry, and all the workers, big or small are entitled to proper training and compensation. This too has something to do with the mass production I guess. "yeh nahin karega toh koi doosra jaroor karega.."

There are a few heroes who do their own action scenes, and earn a full fledged applause for it.
Any mishap during their shoots, big or small, becomes a news and clippings of a wheelchaired hero with his limbs in the cast splash on our TV screens. But a stuntsman, even if he loses his life, never features anywhere.Guess these kinda news don't sell.

While watching the documentary, images of "thrilling" scenes were flashing in my mind.
For us, its a scene that stays in our mind for some time, and vaporises away soon after. Its not even 1/10th of the movie. During a fight scene we hardly bother to give a look or a second thought for the gunda/goon/the likes / or the body double been flug across the screen, crashed into the glass, pushed down a plane,thrown out of a moving train, trampled by a horse, dashed by a car.

Spectators are lost in cheering the hero and are carried away by his antics.
Some of us trash the action scenes for being too much. Too much of blood shed, too much of voilence, "how a movie goer enjoys all this ? All for the masses..Cheap Thrills.." we say.

Namma Bengaluru Namma Hemme..[ Pardon if itz spelt wrong..]

Hosur Road is Hell. Period.
The title of the article in TOI said it all..
17000 PCU per hr, the traffic in the busier areas on Hosur road crawling at half a km per
hr,500 trucks daily to n fro Tamilnadu, the road dotted with more than 50 IT companies, with
most of them having their own bus services. Numerous people in their own vehicles; cars,
bikes, bicycles.
And we can't forget the pedestraians, peddlers, people waiting for the BMTC
buses, hawkers, cattle and wot not!
Hats off to the traffic police who donned raincoats and gum boots and braved through the
raging traffic and waters to do their precious bit.

Bangalore is making news for all the wrong reasons..
The infrastructure chaos, Mr. Dewagouda's speculations and Mr. Murthy's resignation from BIAL,the not-so-sure-and-eager-any-more investors,the soaring costs of living, the rains, the traffic, the increasing rates of criminal activities; esp directed towards the so-called affulent IT population.. ,you name it, and Bangalore has it on the prowl these days!

No, am not going to rant abt all the woes and sob-stories of being in Bangalore.. [ any more, I mean ]

The rate at which this once beautiful Garden City is deteriorating .. certainly causes a heart ache..

Series 'Nostalgia': 1 School Time

My primary school was IDEAL! A child's fantasy coming true![ though I never fantasized about a school as a child!]

I was admitted to the school after an interview with the principal. She was an elderly lady by the name Mrs. Srinivasan and asked me a few questions in english. I remember eyeing the small ,intricately carved glass dish with ravalgaon candies in sliver and pink wrappings,on her table.
It has a HUGE red iron gate, and as soon as u enter through the gates, a BIG square play- ground greets you.
At one side of the playground is a big badminton hall block.
[ where we were scared to go because it was kinda dark there, and every small sound you made echoed like anything! It had pegions flocked inside, and even their flights and cooing used to echo! ].
This block is huge, with 2 indoor badminton nets, and a hall with horizontal bar, parallel bars, pommel horse, rings and vault. We were shown documentaries/ movies/ cartoon films/magic shows / presentations here.
The 2nd floor is just an empty dark hall, where ladies used to do yoga and aerobics on saturday and sunday mornings.Above that is terrace, where our principal used to hoist the flag on 26th Jan and 15th Aug.
At right angles to the badminton hall , is the block for KG classes on ground floor, and 1st and 2nd std classes on the 1st and 2nd floors. [ each class has Div A and B ]. Next to this block is the sports storeroom , and then the small room, where we never were allowed, but we assumed one of our peons stayed there and locked children who didn't return to their classes after the big recess was over!
Then the main office, where we used to go with paper slips distributed in envelopes on sports days or annual gatherings, to collect our cash prizes! That corner of the sqaure was open , and we had the back entrance of our school there. There was also a small gym there with huge nylon nets [like those in circus] hanging from the roof.
The 3rd side of the playground had a well equipped gym [ we used to hear the rhythmic "haiyya huppa"s from there in the lunch break , as people in there did their exercises]
And staircases on either sides leading to the 1st and 2nd floors, which had the head mistress's office, and 3rd std and 4th std classes.
This corner of the square too was open, and there was a shed [ as we called it] with a rusty slide [ where everyone from my class had had his/her uniform ripped by the nail-heads protruding on the slide ].
It also had another small palyground there, which was always very shady due to the huge trees lining it.[ but we often treated this as the step-playground, [ like step-mom] because it was smaller, and we thot having shade on the playground was gloomy, unlike the big one which was always very sunny ( read "scorching" ..cause the lunch break used to be around noon time) . ]
Lunch used to be a hurried affair so that one could block the better part of the big playground for their team]
There were also 1 or 2 offices for the swimming tank / playgrounds that were conducted every evening from 5.00 to 6.00 and weren't a part of the school activites.
One had to sign-up for these separately with a monthly fee of 30 Rs or 45 Rs.

There were these wooden tapering vertical poles hoisted in the ground called "mallakhambs" where guys in red/orange underwares / langots used to do various acrobatic exercises.

Opposite to the KG block is the enclosed swimming pool, and a stone well.
There they taught swimming by tying empty tin cans [called dabba] to the learners.
[ I remember being choosey about the color of the tin can I would get, most fo them used to be yellow "dalda" cans and very few were red or blue ]
Later one would graduate to a rope [ they tied 1 end arnd your waist and the other your trainer would hold in his hand and walk the shores, while you splashed frantically in the water along the lenght of the tank.
Post graduation [ which was held ceremoniously at the end of the monthly coaching batch] meant jumping into the well, with a crowd of seniors, and parents as spectators.
[ My parents still cherish the proud memory of how their 10 yr old daughter "jumped the well" without being pushed by her trainer! ]
The school is small, and was walkable from my then house.Most of my playmates were my classmates. We all stayed in the same lane, and either someone's grandpa or grandma, and in case of the more affluent ones, their ayahs would escort the bunch to and fro from school. After we moved from the KG block to the gym block, we were allowed to be on our own.

We all use to register for the evening playgrounds [ called mandals] and used to rush to school by 5.00 in black shorts and white t-shirts.
The 1 hr that followed used to be exercise,a few amature gymnastic tricks like cartwheeling, arching your back, struting on the balance beam; taught by the people who practiced there, 2-3 rounds to the ground, a super charged game of dodge-ball or kho-kho or langadi [ dunno wotz it called in english.. hopping on one leg and chasing others in a confined space.]
Summer vactions would see us in the tank during the afternoons, and at the mandals in the evenings. Getting vaccinated against typhoid / cholera before the swimming classes started was a group activity.
We used to line up in front of the gym, where the doctor used to put up a table, a stove with boiling water to sterelize [ spell-check .. 1.2.3..failed!] the needles , and the vaccine. One by one we used to face the doctor and get the job done. Screaming in pain was cowardly, especially when you were with your friends. Wincing [spell check..] was fine, and smiling was heroic!
I still remember the knot in my stomach as I used to await my turn. After the injection, within 3-4 hrs your hand would swell up and become heavy. We were allowed to skip the evening plagrounds that day! By night time, the pain would become unbearable and we used to hate the swimming classes like anything. The chlorine smell of the tank still reminds me of the swimming classes and the injections....

Outside the school gate, the roadside was lined by small stationary shops and bakeries.
Saturdays were half day schools and we were allowed to skip our lunch boxes and carry 10 Rs to school so that we can treat ourselves with slice cakes, cream-rolls or samosa and patties. There was an automobile-repair shop too , just next to the school. The owner was a huge man with bushy moustaches and used to wear a metal kada in his hand. His hands used to be blackened with all the grease and grime, so much that we used to think he never would be able to clean his hands. He used to pinch our noses with those hands and scare us saying that the black of his hand has rested on our noses forever!

Our old house [ better know as panse wada] is no longer there. We too have moved from the heart of the city to the outskirts now.Most of the playmates have scattered here n there.My beloved Mrs Srinivasan has left for the heavenly abode. The bakery owners have grown old, and some of the bakeries are now "snack centers" and "juice bars". The kada-wala uncle too is nowhere to be seen in the repair shop now..
But my school still stands tall, with all its glory. The blocks are repainted, and the jungle gym is removed , but the school appears as dear as it used to be....

Deja Vu

The term déjà vu [ also called paramnesia ] is French and means, literally,
"already seen."
Those who have experienced the feeling describe it as an overwhelming sense of familiarity with something that shouldn't be familiar at all. Say, for example, you are traveling to England for the first time. You are touring a cathedral, and suddenly it seems as if you have been in that very spot before. Or maybe you are having dinner with a group of friends, discussing some current political topic, and you have the feeling that you've already experienced this very thing -- same friends, same dinner, same topic.

Humm.. so this is what deja vu is..
Wikipedia sure haz lots more to say..
But lets just take it in layman's term, wihout going in the biological, medical aspects of it all.

Hasn't it happened often, you are amidst a group of friends, someone has cracked a joke, and as everyone is laughing, giving high-fives, suddenly you feel as if you are watching this whole scene as an outsider, and in the scene that is taking place, you kind of know who is going to comment next and what..

Or you are on phone with someone, and while speaking you realise that you had dreamt (or is it the same creepy thing.. Deja Vu?) about this conversation and on afterthoughts ( or should we say fore-thoughts? ) had found such a conversation totally impossible? " Me talking with this person about this? .. impossible.. wot a dream! "

..You are having a routine conversation with mom and BAM! you know what shez going to say next even before she utters it! [ ..nope it ain't abt how predictable / unpredictable moms are! ]

All such incidents have sent chills down my spine.
Even the most trivial, mundane, uninteresting occurrences of Deja Vu..
[ Unlike all the eventful ones in most Bollywood movies; murders,chases, masked faces, haunting places with old mansions,
crooked trees, horrifying discoveries of bodies, weapons, and yeah.. the eternal "barsat ki raat"s ]
[ okie.. am not sure how grammatically correct this use is.. " deja vu happened..", or "deja vu occured" or none of the above! ne-one who is not less sure than me, please oblige with the correct usage]
Even after the consolation that Deja Vu has happened to *almost* everyone around me, my friends, siblings etc etc atleast once, the very fact of pre-experiencing something and re-living it AND having a conscious knowledge of it.. is terrifying.

Deja Vus about unknown places, like temples, or roads you haven't travelled on before are the creepiest of all!
I even had a Deja Vu with my nephew .. simultaneously..(!!?? [ does this word defy the cronology ?] )
I mean what I thought I had experienced before was the same thing that he thought he had experienced before!

This incident really boggled my mind!
Two individuals, with nothing in common, [ apart from the family bondage of-course],
experience the same thing before-hand! *shudder*

What puzzles me is the extent of details! In fact a particular object, or surroundings trigger that "I've seen this before" feeling!
Also what is amazing abt these deja vu's is you recall the familiarity of the incidence, when you are re-living it, unlike the dreams which we have, some of which we recall after waking up, or some we never do but the fog/ghost of a dream always remains in your mind!
And at certain instances, there are dreams which you can watch like a movie, even when you are woken up. It has happened to me sometime.. " 5 more mins mom, sapne mein age kya hota hain dekhna hain! ;-) :-D "
Atleast therez some acceptable[ albeit not totally] justification about dreams that whatever your mind has in its depths, surfaces through some incident in your dreams. [ there are streams of thoughts which don't stand by this explaination]

Wot ever it is that triggers these Deja Vus, I just pray there ain't any spoilers in store for me!
;-D

Sudoku ! yatte miyou..

Sachin Pilot does it and so do my dad n bro..
The current range in the dailys.. Sudoku.
I tried to distance myself from it for quite sometime.

Especially when ppl around me were really hooked to it.. cause some how I knew that though t'was a daily ritual for them, as soon as I wud try to pry .. they all wud turn into fierce competitors ..

" which level did u try.. EASY? bah!"
" Why are u using a pencil AND an eraser? he he ..*smirk* *snigger* .."
" 3 hrs!!!???.. wot r u doing? ... plzzzz its a CAKE! ..."
" FYI.. page 3 has the solution.."

Some considered giving me a hand.
A paper, a pen and loads of " let-me-show-you-how-to-crack-it" !
" See, this is the thing."
I stare at the 9X9 in front of me...

" This , this and this shud never have the same digits...."
I nod and stare at the vertical , horizontal , diagonal lines slashed in the 9X9

"...and this and this shud have all the digits atleast once. "
Again.. slash slash slash.. I still stare at the 9X9 till the earlier slashes float in a diffrent plain than the newly drawn ones..
[ like those illusions that we recieve thru mails, " if u stare at it long enuff, u can see the dots moving, circles rotating, lines floating, grid changing color .. and if you stare long enuff, your boss can see you all dazed and glazy eyed in front of the screen! "]

"..AND, each of these shud have all the digits .. none shud be repeated.."
I lose my glazy stare which I was concentrating hard to manitain..

" .. and ultimately the BIG picture shud be same as these individual ones.."
I look at the BIG picture in front of me..
slash slash and some more slash, square, dot dot , Big dot , another slash , rrrrip..!!!!
The enthu volunteer has stabbed the paper triumphantly..

"..See.. this is soo damn easy! God .. Sudoku is addictive!.."
I grin at the volunteer to acknowledge the efforts!

Though I didn't get it that time.. it got me finally.
The best thing abt it is you need not calculate and u need not be a math geek or anything .. Sudoku is so math-dud-friendly.
Its fine even if you can't count from 1 to 9 [ see.. not even 1 to 10! ].
In fact the numbers in sudoku ain't treated as numbers at all.. u might as well take 9 different symbols and play it!
Finally a number game without maths! :-D [ so much for an Engg graduate from COEP! ]

I don't think its addictive, because once you get it, its the same all the time.
So never over-do it.
After lazy sundays' monsterous meals, curtains drawn, amidst the content lull , when the rest of the newspaper is devoured..
....a Sudoku each for me n my husband!
That makes a real cozy Sunday afternoon!

Signing off for now,
Snehal

Why "Three Princes of Serendip" ?

Well.. ..I've accidently been coming across a few very interesting blogs..[ and its been quite a while reading them..]
Every time I came across a new one, I would feel an urge to write one too!
Every time I felt like starting with one.. I wouldn't.. for no reason wot-so-ever..

And when I finally did start one.. I wanted to name it "Serendipity" ..Alas! The domain wasn't available..
[ why Serendipity? ...well..not now.. but I definitely will come up with some "fortunate discovery" abt it..].

The nxt, very obvious step.. was synonyms.. and I came across this in the quest:
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Word History: We are indebted to the English author Horace Walpole for the word serendipity, which he coined in one of the 3,000 or more letters on which his literary reputation primarily rests. In a letter of January 28, 1754, Walpole says that "this discovery, indeed, is almost of that kind which I call Serendipity, a very expressive word." Walpole formed the word on an old name for Sri Lanka, Serendip. He explained that this name was part of the title of "a silly fairy tale, called The Three Princes of Serendip: as their highnesses traveled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of...."
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Well.. so much in the name of debut!
Hope this leads me to far better discoveries I ain't looking for.. :-D