Early Morning ..

Having settled into the routine of marriage, job and the chores - waking up early ( really early ) has become a rare and less savoured art ..

All you working ppl - you know how it is - get up, get ready -leave. Weekends - get up really late .. and all that.

But there are a occasional few mornings in each week when the 20 winks are over soon and you are fresh as daisy and cannot wait to get out of bed.

There are such lovely and deeply satisfying little things that one can do in those early moments - it just makes your day shine till the end.

For me one of the cherished early morning activities are early morning walks - when the rest of the world is in slumber - but the trees, birds - even the wind and the sky are all already on the wake up duty ..

Roads are lined with trees with sunrays filtering through their leaves .. shrubs look freshly bathed with tiny droplets of dew still not 'toweled' .. flowers still on the branches - not plucked by the green thumbs yet , enjoying and exibhiting their beauty to whoever is fortunate enough to witness it. Even the dry leaves, and showers of wild flowers strewn on the street - everything looks fresh and untouched.

Birds - invisible birds in the trees - with all sorts of exotic calls and tunes - chirp and chatter - the sound is the sweetest wake up call on can ever have . One can easily pass a long while just noting the different sounds. Flocks which suddenly leave trees with a flutter - leaving behind a gentle shower of dried leaves slowly gliding down to ground.

The sky is a gentle canvas of shifting colors - its not a riot of colors as during the sunset - but a more subtle display of creamy and snug colors - a lovely mixture of peach and pink and a tinge of violet melting away into the bright morning sun.

Then there are those honorable few on their regular morning walks as well - who are already drunk on the morning freshness and still have the warmth and cheer to nod or wave a "Good Morning" to you.

Among all these luxury awakenings are those who are up on duty - sweepers, cleaners, milkmen, paperwalas, dairy owners, bakery owners, chai-stall owners, some street hawkers picking their goods fresh from the early market and on their way to a busy day. They are regular faces we have seen on other days - but seeing them early morning awakens a new respect for them and their trade. A feeling dawns on you that our smooth running world is thanks to these and many others ..

A leisurely morning walk gives you a new perspective of the things around, fills your heart with cheer and enthusiasm , gives you a few meditative moments and freshens your mind, body and soul for the day that lies ahead - so much of wealth to be gained - if only we can crawl out of the blanket a little early :)

But walks is not always a luxury we can afford. ( In London it indeed is a very very rare treat for us - unless layers of clothes and umbrellas is your idea of liesurely walk :) . Bless India for one more of its numerous selfless offerings to her people.)

On such days an early morning is several other small joys - Steaming cuppa with your favourite music playing. Quick trip to the garden to pluck a few flowers , clean up a few leaves, water your 'darling' plant. Take an early shower to light a diya and agarbatti in front of the pooja .and spend a few long moments in prayer.Managing to 'cook' a breakfast for both of us . Replying to an e-mail long planned. These are small things which are 'nice to do' but always on the back burner because they don't fit the prime-time slot :)

I've seen my ajji rise early every single day of her life - and go about her duties with single-minded dedication. She never missed her morning duties and never needed anyone to fill in for her! Because of her our mornings were always smooth - in our old house - the courtyard sprinkled with water, cleaned and with fresh rangoli,fresh flowers for pooja, fresh milk bolied and ready for tea, teacups, teapots rinsed and ready to make and serve tea, newpaper in the house, hot water heating on stove for bath - hundreds of things which one would assume are always there ! My parents too have followed suit and even added their morning exercise routines to it - but regretably enough none of us siblings have picked this good habit :)

Whatever is ones reason to come out of the bed early enough - there are these own precious moments which for once makes your mind to dwell on the famous saying " Ealry to bed and early to rise - makes one healthy, wealthy and wise! "

Venice

As Lonely Planet says it ..

"Venice is Neptune's portico risen from the deep...but for how long?"
"Venezia, La Serenissima, Queen of the Adriatic, city of canals and palaces...or tawdry sewer alive with crowds and charlatans? Venice's nature is dual: water and land, long history and doubtful future, airy delicacy and dim melancholy. If this precious place does sink, the world will be the poorer."



Smitten .. yes! thats exactly what we were from the moment we landed at Treviso airport.

Bright sunny day, roads lined with greenish whitish olive trees, and button cute cafes .. radio in the public transport blaring " Radeo Venezia ..." .. Venice grew on us almost instantly. And we were yet to see the whole of it ..



Friends had warned us against NOT being lost in the winding streets near San Marco ..

" ... don't bother .. just lose yourself in the alleys there .. you will get the best gelato at a corner where you will finally give up !!! ... " was the common advise.



And did we follow it to the tee? Oh yes we did!



We were staying away from the main Venice city,on the lagoon island of Murano. Our hotel was a tiny little one tucked inside a residential lane with a lovely rooftop garden where we could have a quite dinner on a tiring day ( with a spicy arabiatta spaghetti and red vino ) while we heard the town clock toll and see the pigeons flutter into sunset ..

It was picture perfect! Cobbled streets, brick lanes, piazzas with stone benches and a ubiquitous stone fountain .. it was just like walking into a dream that too - back in time.
English was sparse there - to watch C trying to communicate with the locals - I fell in love with him all over again! :)
Cute cafes, cuter Italian owners in it :) and the homely little trattorias with tables lined against the tiny canals .. what else can one ask on a romatic trip ?

Food was heavenly in the most obscure corners of Venice, or the tiny lagoon islands we went to - Murano, Burano, Farro, Torcello - right from the antipasti to the dolce :)
And ofcourse generous amounts of vino with our meals and the classic cocktail Negroni of aperitif Campari -;)
A cool evening lighted near the Rialto Bridge - cozy little candle-lit table tucked near the canal with a view of Rialto - music found in gentle chugging of water and sensuous sounding Italian - and a glass of Negroni with the color of sunset dissolved in it - a perfect start to a perfect dinner - Pure Bliss - Contentment - Heaven!!

A fact we didn't know before was the Italian coffee - oh how we enjoyed drinking coffee there - for as small a sum as 1 euro - you get heavenly coffee in Italy almost everywhere!
After I had learnt my lesson with the tiny glass cup filled with acrid black coffee when we ordered Caffe (black strong coffee with a crema foam on top) - I preferred having an occassional Latte Macchiato ( steamed milk 'stained' with espresso) while C indulged in the Irish Coffee ( I'll call it whisky 'stained' with black coffee :D )

We soaked in the sun, mixed in the jostling crowds at San Marco, enjoyed the lonely walks in the lanes of colorful Burano and the lovely bricked walkways along the blue canals in Torcello, hopped onto traghetti and sat back and relaxed on a Gondola, payed visits to Museos and whiled sometime at cafes and bars - till we totally and fatally fell in love with Venice.

Venice was an experience for us - most romantic and most cherished.

With A Child A Mother is Born

(Saw this caption in one of the Johnsons' Baby ads, and it inspired this poem ..)
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'Positive' in clear and blue it says..
Take a deep breath and the mind sways..

With a smile,nod and a wink..
You say to him, 'Its what we think!"

Smiles,pauses and cheeks change hue..
So when is the 'bundle of joy', due?

Tests, checks and routine scans,
Excited moms, dads and grans..

Do this, don't do that,take care..
Stress,weights,fatigue - don't you dare!


Eat good, think good and rest well,
Its for the baby , not you, they tell..

Slowly there is this small little bump,
Feeling it, the heart does a jump!


The day of the first ultrasound,
A tiny form , both watch spellbound..

A life within, a flickering heartbeat,
A wonder, a miracle or nature's feat?

The baby within occupies your mind,
feeling it inside, you relax and unwind.

Tiny feet,tiny hands, baby sounds,baby smells
Upon all this and more, your mind now dwells.

The time comes close to end all longings,
And thus the labor of love begins.

Through the pain,whats the drive all along?
To meet you my little one, is all I long.

With all your might, one last try,
Exhausted but relieved, you hear it cry..

My Angel, my life now you will adorn,
And With the Child, a Mother is born.

------------

(Motherhood is a rebirth - so true!)

A Piece of Swiss

Coming from a service oriented marathi family, I would have only dreamt of going to the Swiss country some day.
And thanks to I.T. - my dream came true pretty early, and not once, but twice! (and if the devine forces permit, might come true a couple of more times)

I don't really remember dreaming of going Swiss.Though the wishful thinking of " I want to see the world on my own once .." was always there.

Been there, seen stuff, I can say its really a dream come true!
Many must have dreamt of being in a land so pure and lush and exhilarating that one feels surreal.
Abundance of nature - talk about it!

I had dreamt of sparkling blue waters, snow covered mountains, lush green landscapes, multi-hued blossoms,thick pine forests,wooden cottages, acres and acres of greenery, cruises which offer panoramic views everywhere,as you lie down on deck drenched in sun!
I had these flashes for years - after watching a movie, or a Discovery channel special, or after flicking through a travel magzine.
I had marveled at lands so beautiful, waters so clear, skies so spotless.
And when I saw them for real, I still marveled at them.

What makes a trip unforgettable?
Its the experience, its the company, the memories.
This trip to Swiss scored a perfect tenner on all these.
Experience - amazing - the food, the stay, the travel, the sights, the scenic beauty - everything was just spot on!
Company - who else but the companion for life? Can it get any better? :)
Memories - When you shut your eyes and think back of the time you had, you know its something you will recall to make yourself happy and cheerful.Unblemished, unspoilt feeling of bliss, contentment and peace - isn't this a rareity these days?Swiss memories of this trip is my very own "Raindrops on Roses .." song! :)

Is Swiss the most beautiful place on earth - may be not.
There are other places beautiful in their own right.
There are places which are beautiful for some people for their own private reasons.
Beauty is not always grand, not always pure, not always to do with mother nature.Its relative. As wise people have said, it lies in the eyes of the beholder. Its depends on the frame of mind.

I had already seen Swiss, but this trip revealed something more peaceful and deeper.
Was it my state of mind that made Swiss look so good, or was it Swiss that made me feel so good?
Can be anything ..
Is Swiss a a piece of heaven? For me - yes it will be - now onwards.

Memories Are Made Of These ...

This song by Dean Martin rings in my mind quite often.
Its a very very tender ( and ohhh sooo mushy) song and to hear it with a few strums of guitar makes you wish for a moon-lit dinner with your special some-one. :)
Its a nice song with simple lyrics, and words of wisdom.
A quick search on the net revealed that this number is quite a favourite in weddings, esp when the father walks his bride-to-be daughter to the altar - soo apt n sweet! ( Am sure, I'd be one of the guests with a lump in my throat and eyes brimming with tears at one of such weddings)

But this song also brings some very special memories and in an entirely different context.

One of the memories attached to this song is from my childhood.
We were in 5th class. My very close friend - V's father had a very nice collection of english records. She had a record player at home, and handling those big black discs was a thing of great novelty. It was my first taste of 'phoren' songs,(which I later learnt was country and pop music) which I could actually hum along!
I even remember her being particularly fond of a Jim Reeves record, because its cover had a colored potrait of him, in his chequered suit - lop-sided smile,auburn hair and green eyes et-al ! :)
( the song 'Adios Amigos' was the one we liked for what we thought were 'exotic' words! )
We loved playing these records, not because we had an ear for the songs but more because it made us feel like pompous grown-ups, who chitchatted with english music playing in the background :))

Those were the days when minds were very keen, fresh and open to absorb all new things, learn more about everything and anything, with a constant urge to explore and discover on our own. We hadn't seen the world much, and each new experience brought a great deal of excitement.

Its from those formative years when your friends, your school, your teachers infulenced your mind the most and shaped it to be the thinking person you are today.

I remember one of my friend S's words at our 10th std farewell function. We were coming out of the 'school' and moving to 'college'. We were going out into different worlds pursuing our individual dreams and aspirations.
S had said that when we are kids - our parents influence us the most. As we start our formal education, our school becomes an institution which affects and influences our mind the most - as we spend maximum time here. While thanking the teachers she had said that while transiting from children to adults - theirs' was the influence which would stay with us forever. And she said that we all are grateful to them, and of course to our friends, because they have imparted to us something that would guide us through the rest of our lives.

This song is linked to the transition. Though its a romantic song ( and this aspect we appreciated much later ;) ) , this song for me is the one which evokes my school memories, the friends, the teachers and the discoveries of everyday wisdom.

Linked with this song, my memories are made of these.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness

The place we stay is a small town.
The lane we stay has neat rows of converted Victorian houses, and a few B & Bs.
There is one huge parking space at one end of the row.

This lane runs parallel to the busy main road, which has a bank, a drugstore, 2 pound shops, 2 bakeries, a vegetable shop, Somerfields, Mac-D's, PizzaHut, 1 Lebanese and one 1 Chinese restaurant, a salsa dance class (yeah!) , 2 pubs, a few real estate offices,an ATM , a superstore - you get the picture? A real busy street, with all options for people of variety of age groups!

And here comes the link.
There is an old man. A hefty, 6 ft, 70 lb old man. With a green jacket - the ones that social volunteers wear here, with large specks, flannel pants, black boots, rubber gloves and a woollen cap. He carries a bottle of water, a few polythene covers and a stick - the ones with a clamp at one end, with which he can pick stuff off the road.
He is a rag picker. He does the work for himself. He takes it as a mission to keep the streets clean.

Morning, when we are rushing out of the house, in a hurry to reach the office, we see him in his gear, picking stuff off the road - cans, bottles, papers, leaves, covers - what ever can be picked up off the road to keep then clean.
If there is other stuff- like dog do, spilt liquids, dried food stuff - he squirts some water there, and wipes it off the road with some paper. He does the same work every day, without a word, without bothering about people around. He dosen't speak a word. He is totally absorbed in his work. He does it with such dedication !!!

During weekdays, we see him in the morning, without fail. Be it cold, be it snow, be it rain - he is there. He works on the weekends too! In fact - we see him on the roads more often during weekends - after all its more work on weekends!

In Maharashtra we had a great saint " Sant Gadgebaba " - who dedicated his life promoting cleanliness - he was a living example of the motto - Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
When ever I see the old man on the streets, carrying out his missionary work, I think of him as an english GadgeBaba.

Home Coming..

Sticking to the name of the blog - "its never too late" - to restart blogging! :)
With the Hindu new year , I am resuming my periodic blogging.

Am back from a long (and I wish I could say relaxing) vacation to India.
Its the second time that I went back to India from a foreign land.
But this time, the coordinates were changed.
Now I have two homes to return to. And two sets of relatives to courtesy-visit ;-) (Sigh!)
( People on relatively short and really long-awaited trips to homeland can easily relate to these "courtesy visits" ! )

When you are returning home, you are looking forward to spend quality time with your dear ones, and try to make up for the long long time that you'ev been away from them.

After getting over the jet lag, the long hours of travel fatigue, unpacking gifts, reshuffling the this-part-still-belongs-to-me wardrobe - you realise that almost 2-3 days of your precious vacation are over!
Then there are these really important things like bank visits, paper work, applications and blah blah which you wish weren't there. There go another day or two!

And then come those visits!
" Auntie Meena wants to meet you both, you never got to meet after your wedding..",
"Uncle Vijay would love if you can join them for dinner, you both weren't there for his son's thread ceremony...",
"Did you meet little Purva? She is already 4 months old - do go and say hie once! " ,
"Dadaji's brother constructed this new house rt? well, they have kept a family get-together cum house warming - you both should make a visit! "
"Cousin Shriya will sulk if you don't meet her inspite of being in town! - you missed her wedding!"
" Sujata auntie's mother passed away, you should go and meet her once.."

And there are many more celebrations, ceremonies, new arrivals, unfortunate departures you have missed over the year.
All these are your people - relatives, friends, loved ones. They have missed you in the times of their joy and sorrow, and want you to spend a few moments with them.

After all, this is what you have solely missed while being in a foreign land. Your people.

Then why, why do these visits seem like an obligation? Why are we reluctant to spare time for these?
Because these visits are not the same - had you not been outside. The time is short, you'ev lost touch, you take time to warm up to these people, you have this limited time in which you want to bring yourself as back to normal as possible. And you feel the time slipping away ..

What happened to the plans of having long, liesurely conversations with mom?
To the plans of spending at least one evening munching pizza while guzzling on some fizz and watching crappy movies with your siblings, long into the night, cracking jokes and having fun like the good old days?
What happened to the plan of going on a drive with dad , chatting about career moves and future plans, interspersed with crib sessions?
Of the plans to have a lazy sunday family lunch and the gup-shup that followed into the sleepy noon-nap?
Of plans of having one evening free to catch up with your gal-pals?

And then - you think, you think of the changed coordinates, the new relations, the time you'ev been away for - and all this makes sense.
You go through these visits and once you are back in the foreign land, you look back and feel glad you did! :)
And you do catch up with those plans - you help mom with cooking, and blabber along all the while - what if a few rotis are a shade too dark! ;-)
You take dad along for all those mundane bank trips, and catch up during the mandatory hour long "lunch breaks" in the bank ;-)
You tug along your kid bro and sis for shopping, and then spend the evening sampling pani-puris and chats, till your parents drive down to pick you up for the next visit ! :)))

And just when you think you have juggled it all - its time to go! With a heavy heart and lingering memories, you pack your bags and head towards the airport. Your cellphone keeps on buzzing till the last minute you board the plane.

Once inside, you switch off - switch off from the world around, and make a hurried trip down the memory lane, to ensure all that happened in this whirlwind home-coming is tucked away snugly in corners of your mind, to savour it later ... till the next trip back home.

memento
I finally happened to watch the much heard of film Memento.Its based on the central character suffering from anterograde amnesia, a condition that prevents him from forming new memories.
I won't go into explaining the story line and all that, its pretty complex to describe in few words.
What appealled me most about the film is the way it is filmed.
It gave me the same uneasy feeling, when you are trying to solve a puzzle, not a very complex one though.You know the answer is just round the corner, and if you spend some more time on it, you will crack it.
I got that feeling while watching the film. " I'll watch some more, and then I'll be able to crack this Jimmy/Teddy/Lenny mystery.." And I went on to watch the entire movie. The first and the last scenes connect if you watch the movie from start to finish (but of-course).If you miss something in between, its like a lost piece of jigsaw.
When I started watching the film, I took some time trying to figure out the meaning behind scenes in color and scenes in sepia.But when they started making sense, it was fun watching the movie.
Also, certain parts of the movie are hilarious.The character Lenny is shown running, but he is not aware why..So he goes.." Ok now - why am I running? "He sees a guy watching him through a parked car, and the guy moves as soon as he sees Lenny." Ok - so I am following this guy" - Lenny thinks.And starts running towards him, but the other guy takes out a gun." Oh well - he is following me! " Lenny thinks, before he starts running away from the guy!
While watching most of the movies, there are things happening in it, which the audience is allowed to know, but the characters in the movie are shown oblivious to it. Here, I felt equally under-informed and helpless as Lenny. This added to the fun of watching it.All you can do while watching the film is to link scenes together. And you have to wait for them.
It was a different movie experience for sure.
Do watch it for a change.

Smell the Cold

When you catch a cold, what is that you miss the most?

I miss smells.

I can deal with a runny / blocked nose,a sore throat, an aching head, the frequent coughing and sneezing and in general all the bodily discomforts that cold brings with it.

( HOW I deal with those is an entirely different topic though! ;-) )

For me, the entire experience of fine dinning is dominated by the olfactory glands.
For any dish to register in my memories, it has to pass the smell test.
Tastes are strongly associated with smells in my culinary memories.
Am not so keen about the visual aspect of it. If it dosen't look good, but smells great, I will have it.
How many times has it happened, that you've had a very tiring day at work - in fact so tiring, that the fact that you are hungry,is overridden by the fact that you are tired.
And in this state, you yourself cannot indentify, that the main reason for this fatigue is lack of food, and not lack of rest.
My grandmom always can identify this case with any of us siblings.
If any of us were being particularly edgy and full of 'kurkur' just before dinner time - she says that 'hunger and sleep have been mixed up in these brats' -
One whiff of a strong tempering (tadka / phodni) with curry leaves or garlic, and the truth dawns on us, that its indeed a good dinner that will fix all kurkur.

( Kurkur is one word in marathi which aptly describes the persistent grumbling due to any sort of discomfort (known or unknown), which is not serious, but irritating enough for the person invloved and those in his/her vicinity)

Ok. I digressed.
This blog is about smells, or rather the lack of them in an event of cold.

Many of our small comforts in a day, come from smells.
A perfectly brewed hot cuppa coffee or tea starts your day on the right note.
The just right bath soap you use, gets you all fresh for the day.
The pleasant smell of your prefume puts you at ease to work with people around.
The smell of coffee in between work, pushes you on for more work.

Am sure there are many more such smells, which put you at ease, and wrap you with a comfortable familiarity.
But with a nasty cold, you feel so left out and un-familiar with the surroundings!

In my average day, my walk to office itself is a riot of pleasant, familiar smells.
I travel by train, and while walking out of the station, familiar smells always greet me.

One is a French pasty shop, from where smell of freshly baked bread whiffs by.

Then there is a shop dedicated to indulgence soaps.Handmade soaps with wild falvors of fruits,flowers,even chocolates!Passing by that shop is almost like passing by an open perfume stall.
Then there is StarBucks coffee, just at the exit of the station. I am no big fan, but I do enjoy the bitter, earthy aroma of coffee, on a cold, wet morning!

With my sense of smell blocked due to cold, I feel like an alien while walking past these shops, who is totally uncapable of understanding these worldly pleasures.

My appetite is linked with smells too.
You see hot steaming rice and dal, with a fiery lemon pickle - but alas!
You can't smell it!
It seems like eating wax or plastic food, and you struggle to break the invisible barrier that stops you from indulging into the olfactory pleasures of your daily lunch!

same is the case with all the comforting beverages served during cold.
Ginger tea?, honey-milk-termeric?, pepper broth?
HUH! Bring them on and I can down them with equal ease!
They are no different to me, as long as the steam coming from the cup finds its way into my nostrils! :-)

You see mum cooking a nice greens curry, with a red-chilly and garlic tadka, or making a mint chutney in a grinder, a sweet pudding with cardamom , even boiling cabbage for some curry - but what the heck!
Its like watching a cookery show! You see it, but nothing reaches you, because you can't smell it!

Not being able to smell is like like being cut off from the main stream for me.
And given the kind of nosey person I am (pun NOT intended),
this surely is a big punishment! ;-)

Just can't stop giggling

Yesterday - C told me a funny incident involving his cousins.

We both were watching funny videos on the net, and there is this old one, where 2 roomies are at an electric point (a switch board) in a room. Guess its evening or something, coz both the guys are sleepy looking and dishevelled.
One is trying to fix something with a screwdriver, and the other one is holding a torch in one hand to aid his friend a work, while eating a banana in the other hand.
Suddenly the friend with the screwdriver starts shouting and twitching, holding the screwdriver in both the hands, as if he is recieving a nasty electric shock.
Paniced, the banana-eating friend also joins in while jogging in his own place and shouting, genuinely terrified.
This is when the screwdriver friend bursts out laughing and the banana eating friend shoves the half eaten banana in his face saying something not-so-good. :-)
The video is hardly a minute long, and watching it first time made me burst out laughing in the office.
Everytime I remember it, I can't stop giggling.

After watching the video, C told about his cousins A and B.
A was a teenager then, and B a toddler.
On a particularly busy family day, A and B both happened to be in the same room. B - being his cute and chubby self, spread his arms at the sight of A, and asked for a quick lift. A, being pleased with this affectionate gesture, lifted B, did a quick fervent jig and let out a scream only to drop B back to the floor.
It had so happened that B was holding a pair of scissors - and was contemplating to put them in a plug point. Being a toddler, he lacked the height to reach the socket. As soon as A lifted him, B seized the golden opportunity and plunged the scissor in the socket - resulting in the short comic jig.
No one filmed it at that time, but am sure (with all due concern to safety) it would have made an equally funny video. :-)

Accents

I've spent enough time in UK, to just be able to distinguish an Irish accent from a Scottish one, and a Scottish accent from a British one and all these from the acquired desi ones ;-)

Me and C, while watching TV , try and spot out these and keep a score. It has made us more keen listeners, and we don't go all 'Sorry?', 'Pardon me?','Eh?', 'Huh?', 'What?', '??!!!' while interacting with the local people as much as we did when we arrived here ;-)
We have even picked up some slang as well, or the style in which ppl here speak - with a 'ya?' at the end ;-) 'Going home ya?', 'you reach the Liverpool stn ya?, then turn rt, ya?' . And the more recent 'mate'. We chat in office with a purposeful 'mate' at the end of every single conversation.
'Cheers mate'
'cya mate'
'how u doin mate?'
'shut up mate' ;-)

The desi accents ..esp for the lot like us, who arrive with english which is all mixed up with our regional accents. There is 'Marathi English' which has all the words rounded and pronounced till the last alphabet, without heeding the subtulity of an english word. Then there is 'Andhra English' where all words end with an extra 'u' or an extra 'a' at the end. Then there is 'Tamil English' which has a lull for every word to resonate it like a tamil word, there is 'Mallu English' which is as hard to get as is actual mallu :-) Then there are numerous north indian accents which are almost like speaking hindi, rather than english.
Watch Russell Peter doing how desis speak english - howlarious! :-)

And then once arrived, we try and blend our regional english with the local one here, and in an effort to be more understandable, try to pick the accent here. Sometimes its deliberate, sometimes its a sincere effort, sometimes its an embarassing showoff, sometimes a subconscious twang and its just so funny at times. :-)

English is a beautiful language and shines through all it goes through at the hands (or mouths? ;-) ) of all those who take a go at it. ( Did I mess up the sentence here? ;-) )

Pound A Bowl

The place where I stay is a small town which has weekend markets with everything from vegetable stalls to celtic jwellery stalls.

I love roaming about in these markets.

The best stalls are ' Pound a Bowl ' stalls.
They sell fresh farm fruits and vegetables.
Bowls of fruits and vegetables are arranged in various bowls of same size, and 2-3 people are busy at each stall.
The variety keeps chnaging with availability and there is always a range to choose from.

Grapes, bananas, pineapples, apples, peaches, plums, pears,oranges, grapefruits, melons,passion fruits, summer berries like strawberries, blackberries,rasberries, cherries,dates and a few more fruits that am still trying to identify :-)

Then there are veggies like aubergines (thats brinjals :-) ),pumkins,radishes, cabbages,tomatoes, cherry tomatoes,shallots, spring onions, carrots, spinach, rocket salad(its some kinda greens),gourds, parnsnips, suedes,okra (bhindi), beans, sprouts,parsley,capsicums,cauliflowers,mushrooms and all that.
At times we find flower boquets, small potted pansies sharing space as well.

The aubergines are the shiniest purple i've seen and the berries are the juciest I have tasted.

One person at the front of the stall will be busy shouting
'Pounda Ball - Pounda Ball ' ( Pound a Bowl) interspersed with a more personal note,
' care for fresh grapes - honey? ' ,
'how'bt these aubergines dah-ling ' for a passing by customer.
One person is behind the make-shift counter managing cash - with
'here's your change -dear',
' a bowl of bananas - ya? ',
'yes sweetheart - whatdaya want?'.
'Thats 2 pounds baby' .
This person can be anyone from a cute little elderly lady to a pimply teenager with spikes . But the dialogue is always same :-)

One person is kinda behind-the-scene , refilling the bowls, emptying the crates, stacking goods in that small makeshift stall.

The places are always merry, the products almost always look clean,healthy and inviting and always appear to be the best bargain. The stalls are never messy, the people at the stalls never snobbish or rude and they all seem very happy to have you at the stall.
The business is always quick and by 5.00 in the evening, the stalls are empty and packed up to leave.

Of the small everyday joys that we look for, this one is on my top-10 (or whatever) list and I make sure that on weekends I tick this one off as 'passed with flying colors' :-)

Saagara Sangamam

I happened to watch a very good film yesterday, after hearing loads and loads about it from my hubby and his friends.

Saagara Sangamam.Its fantastic. Its fabulous.

And though am still learning telugu, I had absolutely no problem what-so-ever in understanding the film. Its the mind over matter kinda thing. Language is no obstacle for feelings. They can be communicated beyond such boundaries. ( Which incidently I've come to realise very closely. But more on language barriers later - in some other post.)

Its about an unfortunate but gifted classical dancer, who aspires to make it big in the world of art. He refrains from comprising on the form of art, and persues the art of dance in its purest form.
He is noticed and encouraged by a rich lady. She gets him an opportunity to perform at a platform whch would bring him recognition. He is overwhelmed with this, and wants his aged mother to witness this event.But as fate may be, his mother expires and he does not participate in the event.
After this incident, he becomes attached to the lady, who inspires his art. But again fate intervens, and the day he confesses his love, he comes to know that she is married. He sacrifices his love and reunites her with her husband.
He loses a pillar in his life, and becomes an alcoholic. A few years later, fate brings them together, this time when he reviews a dance performance by her daughter.Her husband has expired.
She finds him, and is crushed to see the state he is in.She revives him and gets him to teach her daughter.
He, as a gesture of his gratitude towards all that she did for him, trains her daughter to master the art, and passes away watching her perform, thus preserving the art and making it immortal.

The songs are beautiful. S. P. Balasubramanyam and Ilayaraaja work magic.

JayaPrada looks serenely beautiful. Acts superb. I've never found her so appealing before.
I don't claim that its her best acting effort or something, but I personally liked her a lot in this particular movie.Its a pity what the hindi movies of 80's and 90's did to her. (all those movies with Jeetendra, Dharmendra and the lot- when all were towards the fag end of their careers)

The supporting cast is also very apt. All are humble, normal characters. No one is larger than life. No one is over the top. Even the small anount of humour here n there in the film is refreshing, and not out of place.
I find these things quite appealing in films.

And now the main protagonist of the film. Kamal Hasan.
I find him extremely methodical and in this film, a perfectionist.
He potrays a gifted classical dancer, and gifted classical dancer he is.
Its a treat watching him on the screen. The dance sequences are lovely.
The way he acts is just superb. You find yourself riding the waves of emotions as he walks us through the film.
There is no melodrama, no extreme emotions or heartwrenching dialogues. The simplicity of it all suffices to make tears flow.

I have a very gawdy impression of south indian movies (Tamil & Telugu), especially the recent ones. Extreme emotion, extreme action, extreme romance,heavy dialogues, heavy heroines ;-) .
One reason for it can be the gawdy remakes that end up in Bollywood. I find them very crude.

But with movies like Sagara Sangamam,Rudraveena, SankaraBharanam, even Chitram Bhalare Wichitram, that impression is definitely altered. There are more such gems, and I would definitely like to view as many as possible.

Regression Testing

Well, most of you in IT out there know what we call Regression Testing:
One of the many definitions is here: ( courtesy webopedia.com)
Regression Testing:
The selective retesting of a software system that has been modified to ensure that any bugs have been fixed and that no other previously working functions have failed as a result of the reparations and that newly added features have not created problems with previous versions of the software. Also referred to as verification testing, regression testing is initiated after a programmer has attempted to fix a recognized problem or has added source code to a program that may have inadvertently introduced errors. It is a quality control measure to ensure that the newly modified code still complies with its specified requirements and that unmodified code has not been affected by the maintenance activity.

Lets not get into the technicalities.

I was reminded of this term when I was watching a promo for some soap (which will definitely continue for generations together) to be coming up (or already running?) on a very popular channel.
Here are a few of the promos:

1. A kurta clad grandpa is on the beach with his 2 grandchildren. He pampers his grandson and the granddaughter is shown all crushed, as a pitiful score plays in the background and the lil gal is 'heard' thinking alound something on the lines of '..can't girls also bring pride and fame to the family name ......'

2. A couple with their two daughters is at a Durga-Ma temple praying to be blessed with a son, and the 2 small daughters look on. Again the pitiful score, and the elder of the 2 daughters 'thinks' aloud , 'Why are they praying for a son to you Ma, after all you also are somebody's daughter'

3. A daughter prances into the living room with her result sheet, and announces her plans to study further. Promptly the parents declare their wedding plans for her saying they can't afford spending more on her education. Soon after her brother comes with his results, and he is gifted with bike keys - the pitiful score and a sullen looking daughter.

There are more such gems .. but puhleeez whats going on? Soaps sell and there are buyers for it, but to what extent would one go to churn out forthy stuff like this?

There is one more such outrageous soap where the prim trim and spic n span attired dulhan is unaccepted and toutured at her sasural and not favored by her husband for being.. hold your breath - illiterate! WHOA! Whats that!!!!!!!!

( I mean had she just spent one tenth of her time attending evening schools than doing the rounds at the parlour and spending countless hours day dreaming about her would-be-who-won't-accept-her)

Vampish sis-in-laws and conspiring daughter-in-laws, coy chachijis and orthodox bas almost seem welcome after such regressing themes!

Unable to make out any logic out of such themes ( I know I should not even bother with the 'L' of logic when dealing with these things) - I tag them as a way of regression testing the society.

There were ( and still are) bugs like discrimination and treating women as weaklings in society since a long long time. Even in the 21st century, efforts are still on to fix them as much as possible.
And now we are doing a round of regression testing using these themes as test cases. If people are not getting outraged at it - bug fix failed. If outraged and bewildered - bug fix is a resounding success!!!!
So try and get as many people as possible outraged and that will get you closer to fix the bug somehow.

I know its quite corny a statement and quite poor a comparison- but I just felt hapless looking at the promos!
You can say its an attempt to make sense out of the senseless!

2 of 6 Rule by Scott Adams

I came across a post on another blog, which quoted Scott Adams' observation about comics being funny.

Since it involves both my favourites - Bill Waterson ( C n H) and Scott Adams (Dilbert),
am posting it here as - is, with due credit to Kunal - from whose post I came across this piece by Scott Adams' :

Kunal wrote:

"......And while we are on Calvin & Hobbes, take a look at this post by Dilbert creator Scott Adams in which he disects the humour in C & H. "

And then he put Scott Adams' Quote:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The core of humor is what I call the 2-of-6 rule. In order for something to be funny, you need at least two of the following elements:
Cute (as in kids and animals)
Naughty
Bizarre
Clever
Recognizable (You’ve been there)
Cruel
I invented this rule, but you can check for yourself that whenever something is funny it follows the rule. And when something isn’t, it doesn’t. One of the reasons comics are such a popular form of humor is that they often get the cute part automatically. Calvin and Hobbes is widely considered the best comic ever, but the few times it featured the parents doing the main action, it fell flat. Whenever it combined Calvin and Hobbes (both exceedingly cute), with some witty dialog (clever), a dangerous wagon ride (cruel), Calvin acting like a typical kid (recognizable), and thinking about adult philosophy (bizarre) it fired on 5-of-6 humor elements, which is virtually unheard of.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thinking of it, this is sooooo very true!

Breakfast Time!

While watching a Tropicana Juice Ad, I noticed the song that plays in the background..for the first time.
Its the Dean Martin (with Helen O'Conolle) track and its soooooooo cute!

Here is how it goes..

(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Boiled or fried
(D) I'm satisfied as long as I get my kiss

(H) How do you like your toast in the morning
(D) I like mine with a hug
(H) Dark or light
(D) the world's all right as long as I get my hug

(D) I've got to have my love in the morning
(H) Or the rest of my day is positively mayhem
(D) I'm a regular monster

(H) How do you like your eggs in the morning
(D) I like mine with a kiss
(H) Up or down
(D) I'll never frown eggs can be almost bliss
(D) Just as long as I get my kiss

A lovely way to start the day.. ain't it?
Have a gr8 day ahead! :-)

PS: I've just made another discovery ..Dean Martin rocks! The lyrics to most of his songs is very simple and very very sweet! Wish I had bothered to notice earlier.

Sant Kabeer

I picked a few of these on the net: (courtesy Shayri.com)

I love the pieces which are uncomplicated to read but have a profund meaning..
Rather than those which have profound (almost 10 pound heavy) words AND profund meanings! :-)

Sant Kabeer ke dohe ..these are eternal masterpieces epitomising the humble yet unmatchable genius of this earthy saint!
The wisdom in these words says everything.

I have tried to translate the dohas ( verses) in english.

Dukh mein simran sab karen, sukh mein karay na koye
Jo sukh mein simran karay, to dukh kahay hoye
( Every one remembers Him at the time of grief, but not in happiness.
If one remembers Him through happiness, grief will never be! )

Jaise til mein tail hai, jyon chakmak mein aag,
Tera saayin tujh mein hai, tu jaag sake to jaag.
( The way sesame seeds have oil in them, and stones can spark fire,
Your God (strength?) lies withing you, awaken it if you can! )

Dheere dheere ray mana dheeray sub kuch hoye,
Maali sainche sau ghada, ritu aaye phal hoye.
(Keep patience oh mind, and every thing will happen,
The Gardener waters with 100 pitchers, but fruits bear only when the season comes!)

Kabira Khada bazaar mein maange sub ki khair
Na kahu se dosti na kahu se bair.
(Kabeer stands (at the market) and prays for everyone's well being.
No one is a friend neither is anyone an enemy)

Bura jo dekhan mein chala, bura na milya koi,
Jo maan khoja aapna to mujh say bura na koi
(When I started to seek evil outside, I didn't find any,
But when I looked within, there was no greater evil than myself! )

Aisee vani boliye, man ka aapa khoye,
Apna taan sheetal kare, auran ko sukh hoye.
(Speak a tongue which loses one's self,
The speaker is at peace and also pleases others.)

Jaati na poocho saadhu ki, pooch lijiye gyaan
Mol karo talwar ki padi rehen jo mayaan.
(Don't seek a wise man's caste, seek his wisdom,
Value a sword and not its sheath.)

PS: Pls don't mind my lousy translations, no other language can match the exact meaning.

Des Mere..

As corny as it may sound.. when you are away from India, you don't feel homesick .. you feel homeland-sick!

I see the dull grey rains in London, on streets crowded with people and the way it contrasts a rainy day in India (anywhere in India these days!) hits me hard.

Here it hardly pours when you are out in the open. It pours late night, early morning, may be at an odd hour in the day when you are in office .. but never at the time when you are in the open.

Well.. if you are out on a not-so-sunny-day weekend, then it might rain in all possible ways.. drizzles, downpour, showers etc etc.. but not long enought to leave you like a wet puppy shivering its way to the shelter!

Coming back to the weekedays, in Liverpool Strt atleast..you are hardly in the open. The rail station is as prim as a mall, ( infact .. it IS a mall. 3 storeyed, with range of things from hot pasties to branded vest -n-bow tie suits..you get everything!) and it dosen't leak.
The moment your train enters the station, till you leave the station, you are covered.

You have a walkway which leads you to a road, and it has a metal canopy all the way.. so even if you do leave the station, it takes a couple of mins to get into the open. The moment the canopy ends, well dressed office goers (and thats the mildest version of it.. Londoners dressed for office are a show! Just amazing variety of formal clothes, shoes, bags..even umbrellas! ) open their umbrellas and dash to the nearest building, which mazes through the streets and leads you to your building without getting you drenched!
At the reception, you have carpets almost all over, and "slippery floor" boards propped up. ;-)You have a plastic-cover dispenser for your umbrellas.
There's hardly a soul around who is wet enough to testify the rains outside!

When I finally reach my desk in the office, I think of a(n) (average .. not the hell raising kinda rainy) rainy day in India. You leave with a raincoat / umbrella, which hardly helps. By the time you get into the bus, your feet are wet and pink. The umbrella is dripping with water. You avoid a window seat because water trickles on the seat. People in the bus avoid you because they don't want a wet cat next to them. :-)

You look out on the road, and there are vehicles shining bright with the unpaid-uncalled-for wash they'd just had. They whoosh through puddles of water.
Tiny raincoat clad figures tow with their hurrying parents.
Mummy-types ladies gently lift their sarees a a wee bit to avoid them from sloshing in the puddles, and balance an office bag at the shoulder.
Cycle-wallas with colorful polythene bags covering their heads and tucked behind their ears, appear to be floating on the waters.
Police-mamas with bright yellow raincoats try to make sense out of the mad traffic.
A scooter which refuses to start is cursed and kicked by its owner.
Youngsters don't give a damn to the rains and soak up.
A few shivering souls wait at covered bus stops, under trees, in front of shops.
A few crows shake themselves free of water every few mins on the cables running overhead.
Pavements are shining, trees have a new shade of green...
It seems like there is a different world attached with each of this scene. The city is so alive!

As you shiver with the cool breeze, you look forward to reaching home, to a steaming cup of tea, you look forward to tucking your feet underneath you and curling up in the sofa, discussing mundane stuff with family as everyone arrives home one by one with a different rain that soaked them up! :-)

As the warm picture of a family returning home floats in your mind, there is a lump in your throat and you actually long to get drenched in that rain that falls in India!

New Looks

Well, after a long Hibernate Session (pun intended) am back to blog.
And back to blog about food! :-)

First.. let me pay my respect and awe for Google!
There lies a VAST un-explored treasure of all the information you want about averything!
And I have noticed this so many times..
This time Google bowled me over, when I tried searching for a recipe.. for Ukdiche Modak.
( A very lame english name for this can be sweet stuffed rice dumplings! :-S )
And Bingo!
Google asked Did you mean: ukadiche modak ?
Thats really sweet of Google! ;-) :-D

Ok.. that was all that I wanted to write about food in this blog!:-D

As the title says, I am talking about new looks.
Well, I have managed to get my hair cut here in London ! Ta- Da!
(and also managed not to feel guilty about the price I paid for it!)

After weeks of deliberation, resolve, grit and patience I finally managed to take the decision and stick to it till the weekend.
I took an appointment with a well known unisex salon here .. in the commercial capital of London.
I fumbled and tripped my way to the appointment desk, confirmed the appointment and was at the chair for the next process.
After washing and conditioning my hair, this lady asked me in some german accented english if I was sure I wanted to keep them short!

'I loooove long hair, and my husband scold me for little hair' she said.
I was sooooo happie to hear bad english from a firang! ;-)

She had an ubiquitous gujju assistant and she convinced my white hair stylist [ white is for the stylist, not for my hair.. ok? x-( ] that I was Ok with it.
'Are you sure?' she asked me again.
I felt a bit bad about the hair I was going to lose, and asked how the cut will finally look.

The Gujju had no idea of what my white lady had in mind, and asked her to explain.

'I cut, keep layers.'
Then she plucked a strand of my hair.

'This much 1 layer. Then 1 more little big. Then big, big, big. And 3 layer.'
And all the while she plucked strands of my wet hair, and held certain lengths between her fingers, and brandished the scissors in the other hand.

I waited with baited breath, praying that the scissors won't actually rush and do the act before she intended to!

'And near face, small, and back Vee'
At this she formed a 'V' with her hands to show what a 'V' is.
(As if I thought that an alphabet that sounds like 'Vee' in fact does look like a 'B' or a 'T')

'See my hair. Layer, Layer but small. Your layer..big'.
I looked at her hair.. or whatever was left of it.

It was streaked red, with a bunch still retaining the blonde color.
The hair near the face were cut to some decent uniformity on both the sides, but the hair at the back looked like whoever was cutting her hair had remembered an important errand, and had hurried through half of it, and left the rest to 'rest in peace' !

I still had some hope left in me, for a decent hair cut.

I tried to discuss with her that though I wanted my hair short, the shortest I was willing to go was this much and longest I would permit to stay was that much and that I should be able to tie them up when I want without random strands escaping the clips etc etc etc..

At the end of this conversation, we both had a pained expression on our faces .. no one in the hair-salon world understood us!
Sigh!
We had reached a point of 'you-return-but-not-me'.
She was sure the cut she had in mind suited me, and I was sure that I wanted my hair cut but not by her!

'Its ok. Tension maat lena Ma'm. Woh theek karegi' - Gujju assistant came on desi track.

I was not willing to go through the entire process of 'make your mind for a hair cut - break it - make it again - discuss with friends and family - get encouraged by them to go ahead - still think twice about the loss of hair - consult colleagues - make up mind yet again - take an appointment - stick to it' again.

So I left the fate of my hair in the dainty hands of the white lady ( there was nothing lady-like about her though.)

I amused myself at the chair by looking at locks of soft, black, straight, shiny, beautiful hair fall at my feet, (wonder how things that we lose suddenly appear very important and beautiful) by hearing to the snipping of the scissors, the whooshing of sprays and occassional tugs and pulls as the lady bent my head up, down, left, right till the water from my wet hair trickled (and tickled) down my ears, and neck and chin.

I never stole a look at the mirrors which appeared to surround me, almost close in upon me,tempting me to take a look at myself.

'There you are'.
'Beauty!'
My white lady said.

With a beating heart I looked into the mirror.

And almost burst into tears .... of great relief.

She had done a fabulous job.
I was seeing what I wanted to see, and the hair was perfectly the way it was supposed to be!

A wave of warmth and gratitude swept over me.
I beamed at my white lady and exclaimed my happiness and thanked her for a splendid job.
She beamed in return, and the gujju assistant smiled on us.

The hair-salon world had suddenly became a world of harmony, peace and mutual understanding!

In a state of relief and bliss, I boarded the train home, and in the same ethreal state reached home.

My husband waited anxiously for me to produce the bill.
The figure was a relief for him too. He was dreading to see the worst!

So this entire hair-cut, new-look business ended into an happy affair with one and all living happily ever after! (except the hair I lost! )

Iiiishhhh....

Hold On. before you think its about the Devdas '...ishhhh' song that made Shreya Ghosal the talk of tinsel town.. its not that.

Its about English . Yeah its the 'ish' in english and other words in English that I want to talk about.
I find all the languages very fascinating. If you are speaking with someone, and suddenly you start hearing stuff as a third person and a small thread runs at the back of your mind thinking who decided that a wooden plank with 4 legs will be called table, and when you abruptly blow wind outta your nose, and close your eyes and jerk and wink all at the same time.. that bunch of actions is called a sneeze! You go Wow !!! in that same thread. And another thread starts.. why if we find something amazing, its WOW?? How come everyone in the world understands a WOW? who decided that? Why not ZOZ? why not .......

Ok. More about this language facination in detail, in some other post.

There are words in English. (and I believe the word 'English' as well, for that matter British, Polish, Irish .....)
These words end with 'ish'. Like xyz-ish. And they mean almost xyz. Like xyz. Kinda xyz.
Let me explain.

Sheepish. He smiled a sheepish smile....
Foolish. All knew his act was foolish..
Devilish. A devilish grin spread on his face..
(I am not sure if Sheepish means like a sheep.. but imagining a sheepish smile, and a sheep smiling.. kinda strikes a parallel.. ;-) )
Foolish definitely means like a fool, and devilish means like a devil. So when 'ish' is there, as in xyz-ish, then it might mean one of these: not exactly xyz, but like xyz, kinda xyz ..Ok I said that already.

In my college days, I came to know what a powerful thing this 'ish' is. And it was so very Okayish to use this ish in every possible bit of conversation.
English never generically gave these words for us to use, but we can pass some of these with the exact flavor that we want , to convey our message.
See these:

....The dress I bought the outher day is pinkish with a satinish feel...
( So I understand that the dress is kinda pink, but NOT pink per say and its feel is kinda satin but not satin per say! Perfect! )

..Ok then . See you there at sevenish today evening.
(So I understand that we are meeting aound 7, but definitely not at 7.00 )

The film was OK ish you know..
(So I understand that the film was not exactly okay, but pretty close to being okay! )

.... see that. That darkish lady with a roundish face? ...
(I think by now even you all got the hang of it, lady who is not exactly dark, but neither fair, and she has a face that is not exaclty round, but very close to round! )

We already have accepted words around like hellish (like hell) , bullish (like bull) and all.
But improvising with all possible adjectives and creating superlatives degrees of description with just 3 simple letters! thatz kinda greatish.

Well.. thats all about the post. Wanted to put this on paper (or in print you can say) atleast once. And am glad I did! :-)