the mirror

i was part of the media
i was proud
once upon a time.
bursting at the seam, gloriously, gloatingly proud.

a snake chasing a toddler
a wife beating her husband
a child trapped in a pit
a man with a tail
a father's anguished plea to be left alone
a daughter naming her mother for a pimp
news. news. news.
coverage. 24 hours of in-your-face coverage.

100 Tibetan protestors... bundled and sent to jail
for protesting against the guy who represents their misery, their anguish, their loss of the place they called Home

not newsworthy. nope. such things dont matter. people are arrested. people are not let out even when their bail can happen. not just worthy of a coverage.
its just a bunch of people you know ... fighting for their rights... how can that possibly be better than the miraculous appearance of the image of a God on a tree? i mean... toinks, how dumb can you be?

i am part of the media
i cringe, shrivel
every single time.
ashamed.

edited to add:
redemption in sight: http://www.rediff.com/news/2006/nov/22jintao7.htm

i am big brother

the little one,

she grew up quick.

the little one

the one i played all my pranks on

the one who cried when i said boo

the little one

who pointed fingers

the little one

who hung on to my words

and followed me everywhere

the little one

... yeah ... that little one ...

she grew up quick

she is gonna be a mommy

she says she is gonna be brave

only, i am supposed to go into the labour room with her

and she tells me ...

"tu aayega na? tu mera bhai hai na... "

gulp.

i dont think she is gonna be very thrilled to find out how 'brave' her older sistah is.

i don't wanna do any bhai giri...

i don't wanna end up on the labour room ka floor ... along with her husband...

muummmmaaa... stoopid lil girl saying bad bad things ....

Cya next Sunday… be on time ok?

Week after week, every Sunday, at 6.30 AM, we met next to the tea stall, under the indicator of platform no 2, Dadar station, western line.

Week after week, for almost 3 years.

He would be late most times and so would I; Teju and Monu took turns … but never Preeti… she was always there on time. We arrived at the designated spot from a variety of directions. We bantered and argued our way to Churchgate and almost ran all the way to the Unit.

1 Maharashtra Air Squadron, NCC.

We trained
We learnt
We laughed
We cried
We shared
We fought
And of course, most often, we were punished.
Crawling
Frog jumps
Running
Marches

Blood and sweat fought to mingle with tears and smiles.
Torn uniforms… Dropped rifles… Lost berets … Missing badges … Shoe polish … were an intrinsic part of our lingo.

And then, one day… we passed out.
The mighty ‘C’ certificate holders.

The ‘group’ held on for sometime.

Some of us managed to hang in there, connecting, communicating, keeping the bond alive… while others floated away.

He … was one of the floaters
He … one of our best buddies
He … of the miserable pjs
He … the Jordan follower
He … who first coined the term mput.com … monu, preeti, uma, teju
He … the guy we called Pandu, PC and an assortment of names

He … who came back to our midst last week
We spoke, like always … a gaali here, a rotton joke there … 10 minutes of long distance calling to bridge the gap built over years.

Damn the miserable twit for getting me all choked up but I am so glad to have him back… just so we can skewer him to the first signal we come across.

Oh and, Thank you Internet for your billion networking sites.

Don Bhai, Salaam.

The husband and I went to watch Farhan Akhtar's Don the other day.

We came back with our faith in Mr. Akhtar's skills intact.

Nice movie.
Heard a fellow movie watcher comment: "Would have been a bumper hit if only he had chosen another name for it..."

Maybe.
Maybe not.

We liked it anyway.

Nice Film there ... despite Shahrukh Khan... and *shudder* Kareena Kapoor.

I gots amazing T-shirt

It says a lot of stuff on one side of the face like: Chameli, Kamli, Saheli, Paheli, Mahakali, Gussewali, Nakhrewali, Gharwali, Kaamwali and some others I forjots.

And just one thing on the other: Ek Paheli

Ain't it the coolest thing ever?

*thrilled to bits*

Thanks guys :)

Even in dreams, Australia wins

This is so frustrating.
Yeah they are a good team, maybe the best even, but I so do not like them and their we-are-superior-than-thou looks.
They have brought down cricket.

And to think, even in my dreams, they continue to triumph and wear a very irritating sneer.
I mean, it is MY dream and I should be the first, second, third umpire, right? RIGHT?

am bored.

i took the day off yesterday
took the parents shopping
bought a truckload of clothes
oohed and aahed at the great indian weave mela
spent more money
avoided husband's probing finance related questions
ate some not so good but heavanly smelling food
am back in office
and it is friday
i so do not wanna work

i am very super ultimately completely bored. i am so bored that i am going to find words @ thesauras for synonyms for bored...

... ok. am also lazy.
boo.

Light me a glow

I thought I’d come back on Monday and write a long post about our trip to Dehradun – Mussoorie – Haridwar – Rishikesh. In a way, I am doing just that… in a way…

We did touch the above mentioned places, but what touched us… me… was the Ganga Arti at Har-ki-Pauri, Haridwar.

I have no words to describe the feeling.
No words can capture the beauty, aura or the sheer energy level of that event.

All I can say is … there comes a time in life, when you are so moved that every nerve, every single pore in your body responds to a unique beat, of tumultuous joy, of pure belonging…
I had one of those moments when I sat there amidst thousands of people on the ghats of the Ganges.
Unbidden, prayers leapt to my lips
My eyes were drawn to the flaming Arti thali
Magnetically, my feet led me to edge of the embankment, so I could touch the holy water

And I left the place, a little more blessed… a little more at peace with myself.

Har Har Gange! Protect us Ma… May the human kind find salvation yet…

Toinks’ day out plus bring on the cake

After gaping at the size and intricacy of the Akshardham temple in Delhi every single day for over a year, we finally managed to pay the place a visit last afternoon.

To say it took our collective breaths away would be an understatement. The style, the painstaking symmetry, the detailing, the idea, the execution, the sheer effort of creating and maintaining a monument of that size is testimony enough to the perseverance of the human mind. But what positively was the icing was the way the volunteers handled the crowd (a very significant one at that).

Brilliant. Brilliant. Simply Brilliant.

Patient prompts. Gentle guidance. Soft assurance. Smiling authority.

For a person who has been to a LOT of temples and experienced the ‘paid-darshan’ routine, the simplicity and the whole-hearted devotion of the volunteers touched a chord.

So, all you non Delhiites, rest assured of being escorted to atleast two places when you come a-visiting:
a) Akshardham
b) Red Fort for its awesome sound and light show

Ah Delhi…
Drenched in History
Memories in your ancient walls
You try to bind me to you
With soft whispers
From the ages past

And on another note, it is that elephant sized bird brained ignoramus’ birthday today.

(Yup, thats her trying to sneak into our room via the window when the main door AND the porch door were both open... but thats just her)

Happy Birthday Mugs
Shine on you Crazy Diamond…

Happy Diwali Folks

Genetic Garbage

I almost killed a guy today
Given a chance, I would do it again … and again.

There are these bastards roaming the streets of Delhi. They wear the sacred ochre robes of the sages and captured snakes around their necks. They shove the snakes into the faces of unsuspecting people and demand money in the name of the Snake God… and most folks give in… more out of fear than reverence.

One of them tried his trick with me this morning.
The poor cobra he had captured was reason enough for me to kick his backside to hell and back. The way he tried to threaten me broke my resolve.

He got away with a tongue-lashing this time. The next time around, changing lights not withstanding, he or one of his cronies are going to see what a sting really feels like.

This snake bites. And she is bloody venomous when threatened by scumbags who torture animals and play up on people’s fears.

Pay Back

After seven years
Yesterday
I met up with one half of the people
Who gave me my first break
He sat on the opposite side this time
As a vendor

Eight years ago
He sat on a table once
With a lost scared girl
And explained a concept
She worked on building
For one whole year

I left the place
Moved on
Built my career
Doing the very same thing
He taught me
One day
Eight years ago

In that place
I met with colleagues
I call my friends today
Blood of my soul
Pulse of my life
Buddies forever

Thank you A and M
You have done a lot
That a lot do not think right
A lot, including me
But I remain
Grateful
For that first break
That lesson in life

Regards~

Of Gods and Traditions

When it comes to traditions, religion, culture, history, mythology ... I am an ignoramus.

I have often pooh-poohed at my older relatives who have religiously stuck to their faith. While most time they actually do not understand the deeper meaning behind an act, there are times when I end up getting an answer to satisfy even my boxed opinion.

Hinduism they say, is not a religion, but a way of life.

I hunger to know more about it. The real reason behind every ritual, every act. This is one good place to start, I think…

Look ma, an elephant and another and ...

We scrubbed with the rind of a spiny fruit. It looked and felt like a wire mesh, but the elephants didn't look too distressed... so we scrubbed and scrubbed and IT WAS HARD WORK. So we went back and had a hearty lunch.
I am good at justification.



This guy was a hunk. Every inch of him reeked of royalty. Only, I forgot his name.
I do remember the name of the littlest fellow there though.



He is 'Ekdanth' or the single toothed one.



One of the beautiful cottages that were occupied by some of the most beautiful people.
us :D



Bum Chums. I watch your back, you watch mine. Yada Yada. Blah blah.

Why can I not upload images and other such rants

actually, thats the only one.
Dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee blogger diiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

i am gonna try with the help of flickr and if dat doesn't work either, am gonna go home, wear my witches' hat and put a hex on the whole bleddy thing. not the hat stupid, on blogger. here goes:

first try
...
...
second try
...
..
third try
and you are soooooooooooooo cursed.
start hanging out the garlic and thyme makers of the blogspot
grrrrr....

our 5 day vacation

So,
We saw Lage raho Munnabhai
We watched it sitting in seats scattered across the hall
We laughed a long time after the movie was over

We went to Dubare elephant camp, coorg
We extended our stay once we got there
We ate ... a lot
We slept ... a lot
We did a bit of walking (to the dinner hall from the cottage and back)
We bathed elephants
We patted errant puppy dogs
We missed friends, old and the older
We saw water snake, in water
We saw, through Mugdhas' eyes, National Geographic Moment where the snake missed a meal
We went koracling
We never learn spellings
We went for morning walks, our souls and moral support rested with Mugdha and Sri (because we were resting ourselves and could'nt be bothered to move our butt to go on a nature trail and identify crows)
We ate ... a lot
We slept ... a lot
We pottied... a lot
We saw stupid documentary made by stupid half french half indian curly haired moronic slimeball who loves elephants for all the wrong reasons and keeps them in captivity with big fat chains on their feet and calls it historic relationship between mahouts and pachyderms and we think she sucks rotton turkey eggs
We clicked nice pictures
We bathed elephants
We slipped in the slush and while flailing for support, almost pulled the mahout's chaddi
We took video recording of all the moments
We think every moment was momentous but we lacked cds, batteries and brains
We also did lot of translations from Marathi to Hindi and English for the benefit of Sri
We are considerate peoples
We went to nincompongolim* monastry
We drank coconut paani
We saw Monks playing goti
We bought rang de basanti cassette
We donated cassette to driver and kept cover ... so we could get lyrics atleast
We want to go back

We are Thanks to you for reading us and our long travel story and we will posting photos soon.

Cheers~

*We are not very good with complex names

Boudica, the dragon rider of Africa, thank you for the flashlight

I have always been a little weird. The reason being my pre-occupation with books in general and specific characters in particular.

I know a lot of folks who read, but I am yet to gather courage to ask them if they get the various characters mixed up in their heads like I do.

Maybe they do.
Maybe I have Alzheimer’s*.

I remember a lot of most stories. Never the author and almost never the name of the book though. And the lot I usually remember always end up being very similar to other characters in newer stories. I mean, they mi9ght not be the same characters, not even on the same side (of good and bad, duh!) but they have these certain traits that carry forward in stories from different folks, era and genre. Know what I mean? No? Forget it…

All the above apart, I also tend to get obsessive about some characters… like Boudica aka Breaca of the Boudica series by Manda Scott. Or Firedrake from The Dragon rider by Cornelia Funke and Sapphira from Eragon by Christopher Paolini, Taita from RiverGod by Wilbur Smith and Shanthi from the bearer of the reading light.

Ok, I no longer remember the point of this post.
And, Shanthi is not a character, she is Santa Claus in drag. And very pretty. And nicer. Santa never got me anything. Cheap bearded slave driver.

Lost the thread again.
Nonsense.

Cheers~
Ps: Alzheimer's is a degenerative disease of the central nervous system characterized especially by premature senile mental deterioration.

Pps: You think? You really think … Hmmm…

It is all in the name

You can call pav-bhaji … bhaji-pav (only coz I have come to accept the fact that all of us cannot be blessed)
But you do not, I repeat, do SIMPLY not call Vada Pav … Pav Vada…

It is an insult to that amazingly delightful of dishes.

And will someone please open a tapri where I can get a regular supply of the above mentioned yummilicious thingy in deprived Dilli? With Garlic chutney? And meetha chutney? And onions? And green chillies? Droolllll ...*

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet." - Shakespeare
Whatever you say Mr. PearyShocks

Rats that don't let you gym

sri and i have joined a gym and we have opted for the 6.30 AM slot.
the problem is that we have a rat in the house.
make that multiple rats. and mice. and moles.
and they all have inter racial fights.
inside our house.
our home = a regular panipat = big battlefield

they (the rodents), like the kshatriyas of the by gone era, strictly adhere to war time rules.
the war conch is blown sometime past 1 AM and the battle begins.
trivia: each of the above mentioned race have a unique battlecry.
they call it a day (?) sometime around 5 AM.

Now, all of us reasonable human beings understand that a little more than an hour of sleep is not enough for a normal person.
try telling that to my husband.
silly fellow is up and chirpy AND EAGER to gym at 6 bloody 15.

now you tell me, is it my mistake that i detest gymming so?
the cruel instructor is another story, but still.

Define Beautiful

or love
or joy
...

or alternatively, tell me why people look so earnest when they are digging their nose.

cheerings~