They weren't the only ones smiling at the end of it.
February 27, 2011
Perspective
A traffic jam at the end of my street on a weekday morning. Irritation, annoyance and everything else showed on my face. And then, I saw two people run by my car...huffing and puffing with their bags in tow. The traffic jam had brought everything to a standstill, including the bus that they wanted to get on to. And so they ran and climbed into the bus...a big smile on their face.
January 30, 2011
Right Choice Baby, aha!
50 paise for the small one and 1 rupee for the big one. That's how much I used to pay for Pepsi Cola. And this was many years, maybe even a decade, before Lehar re-introduced it in India. So where did I get it from and that too for such a piddly sum? My school canteen!
It did not come in a glass bottle but in a plastic tube. It was not brownish-black but multi-coloured. It didn't need an opener, just one's teeth. 'It' was not a drink but a Godsend-divine- crushed-ice thingy that made everyone long for recess! And the dirt and grime in the ice box that it was stored in added to the flavour, of course! What a hit it was especially during sports time and awfully hot summer days, which were aplenty in Madras! But by the time I was done with school, it was gone. Replaced by cooler drinks and fancy ice creams that became a part of every child's life, therefore every school's canteen.
And now, it's back...'Chillicks' is its new avtaar. It's packaged differently, stored in a cleaner way and costs a whopping 10 rupees. But I can't get myself to try it. It feels weird.
Pepsi Cola in a clean tube for 10 bucks? Nah. I'll just hang onto my memories of the old one...the original.
It did not come in a glass bottle but in a plastic tube. It was not brownish-black but multi-coloured. It didn't need an opener, just one's teeth. 'It' was not a drink but a Godsend-divine- crushed-ice thingy that made everyone long for recess! And the dirt and grime in the ice box that it was stored in added to the flavour, of course! What a hit it was especially during sports time and awfully hot summer days, which were aplenty in Madras! But by the time I was done with school, it was gone. Replaced by cooler drinks and fancy ice creams that became a part of every child's life, therefore every school's canteen.
And now, it's back...'Chillicks' is its new avtaar. It's packaged differently, stored in a cleaner way and costs a whopping 10 rupees. But I can't get myself to try it. It feels weird.
Pepsi Cola in a clean tube for 10 bucks? Nah. I'll just hang onto my memories of the old one...the original.
January 8, 2011
Stocking up
She was a collector, there was no doubt about that. Not art or expensive things or even stamps. Just sentiments. No, not mentally but in the form of cards, letters, little notes...you get the gist. Over the years, her 'collection' grew, moved with her across continents and cities and finally found its resting place in a huge red plastic tub. A tub so big that it couldn't hide anywhere. Sometimes, things need to be jarring, loud...almost an eye-sore to be taken note of. Either by oneself or else, a significant other.
After much debating, she decided that it was time. To sort through, clean up and maybe just let go. And so she began reading through years of laughter, joy, sadness, fun....memories. One last time before she said goodbye. But she just couldn't get herself to say bye to all of them! Important dates, important moments and important people, especially those that were no longer with her...how could she? So the pile became smaller...much smaller. But it was still there, tucked away in a little bag.
The rest? Tucked away in her heart.
After much debating, she decided that it was time. To sort through, clean up and maybe just let go. And so she began reading through years of laughter, joy, sadness, fun....memories. One last time before she said goodbye. But she just couldn't get herself to say bye to all of them! Important dates, important moments and important people, especially those that were no longer with her...how could she? So the pile became smaller...much smaller. But it was still there, tucked away in a little bag.
The rest? Tucked away in her heart.
December 9, 2010
The Fight
It happened on the terrace this time, not the balcony like many times before. Loud and noisy...early in the morning. Another endless arguement. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...until it became physical.
Pushing, shoving, even head-butting. It seemed like it would never end. And there I was, the silent and lone observer, peeking from my balcony, cup of coffee in hand. Suddenly, there was a lot of movement, a sort of dance. Every step that one took, the other followed. Were they going to make up or was the fight intensifying?
And then, one took a step onto the ledge. The other stayed still for a second and then followed suit. One last look he gave her...and then took the plunge.
Oh to be a bird and just fly away when it all becomes too much to take!
Pushing, shoving, even head-butting. It seemed like it would never end. And there I was, the silent and lone observer, peeking from my balcony, cup of coffee in hand. Suddenly, there was a lot of movement, a sort of dance. Every step that one took, the other followed. Were they going to make up or was the fight intensifying?
And then, one took a step onto the ledge. The other stayed still for a second and then followed suit. One last look he gave her...and then took the plunge.
Oh to be a bird and just fly away when it all becomes too much to take!
November 4, 2010
Deepavali 2010 - the beginning
I've celebrated Deepavali in India, specifically in Madras, for most of my life. Waking up at the crack of dawn, oil bath, new clothes, sweets and the all the rest of it are still fresh in my mind. Funnily though, the one thing that I've never done is to go shopping for the crackers. Maybe because I've never been very keen on the different bombs or other noisy things. The task of buying even sparklers and flower pots was always outsourced to dad, uncle, brother, driver etc..
What a shock I got when I saw at a 'Discount Firecrackers Store' here in Bangalore that the cost of 1 box of 10 flower pots was Rupees 700! I realized that I may walk out with just that and a box of sparklers. Thinking that I need to return with more cash, I was on my way out but was stopped by the owner.
Yenna madam, what do you want?
Illai, I don't have enough money, I'll come back. (He prob thought that this was a precursor to a long drawn out haggling session)!
No, we give a 70% discount on the printed prices and I'll give you more discount if you buy a lot.
Ok, so now this kind of made sense...or did it?! That meant that for the printed price on 1 box, I would actually get 5! And this applied across the board, on whatever kind of firecracker one wanted to buy. 5 boxes of flower pots and chakras each, 10 boxes of sparklers and 5 boxes of 'shaatai' later, I was at the billing counter feeling mighty thrilled about my first ever 'pattaas' purchase! My joy was short-lived because the bill presented to me was for Rupees 1850. I was figuring out what I should return to the shelf when he said, 'it's ok madam, you please take this for 1500'.
Was his generosity because this is the season for giving and sharing, because I was probably the first 'boni' for the day or because he still made a killing on the sale because I suck at bargaining????
You decide!
Happy Deepavali!
What a shock I got when I saw at a 'Discount Firecrackers Store' here in Bangalore that the cost of 1 box of 10 flower pots was Rupees 700! I realized that I may walk out with just that and a box of sparklers. Thinking that I need to return with more cash, I was on my way out but was stopped by the owner.
Yenna madam, what do you want?
Illai, I don't have enough money, I'll come back. (He prob thought that this was a precursor to a long drawn out haggling session)!
No, we give a 70% discount on the printed prices and I'll give you more discount if you buy a lot.
Ok, so now this kind of made sense...or did it?! That meant that for the printed price on 1 box, I would actually get 5! And this applied across the board, on whatever kind of firecracker one wanted to buy. 5 boxes of flower pots and chakras each, 10 boxes of sparklers and 5 boxes of 'shaatai' later, I was at the billing counter feeling mighty thrilled about my first ever 'pattaas' purchase! My joy was short-lived because the bill presented to me was for Rupees 1850. I was figuring out what I should return to the shelf when he said, 'it's ok madam, you please take this for 1500'.
Was his generosity because this is the season for giving and sharing, because I was probably the first 'boni' for the day or because he still made a killing on the sale because I suck at bargaining????
You decide!
Happy Deepavali!
October 26, 2010
Kolu - memories
Pattu pavadai, house-hopping with mum, singing songs everywhere, eagerly waiting for the juice/rose milk, and finally the 'vethalai paaku' bag, usually with something special in it for the kids. Doesn't seem like too long ago when I was doing this. But now, it's the daughter's turn...circle of life and all that. A repeat experience except that there was a lot of explaining regarding the dolls. And the son...gunning for the wax fruits, never mind that he won't eat the real ones! And me...and mum. Fun times. Hope they last a long long time to come.
September 23, 2010
'Try'al Rooms
I hate shopping per se, especially for clothes, especially in India. Of all the annoying things about it, the most trying bit is the trial room experience.
Opening the door:
It takes a bit to figure out how to...push or pull? What if there's no handle? It's hilarious to see people try it one way, feel terribly embarrassed and do the opposite. Sometimes even that won't work...why? Because there's someone inside and the sign on the knob that says 'occupied' or 'vacant' (just like in the aeroplane loos) is jammed.
Hanging the clothes:
Why is it that most stores have just three hooks or less to put the hangers in? Yes, the rules say 'only three garments at a time' but come on, this is India. No one follows rules so they might as well remove the sign! Even if you do take only the prescribed three garments, where are you supposed to put the clothes that you are in? On the floor?? OK, they may be old but definitely not that bad! These are times when it pays to own a large handbag...it makes a good floor mat substitute. (All you designer handbag owners, disregard this...I'm sure you will first run out naked than put your precious bags on the floor)
Space:
I know stores are trying to maximize display space but that doesn't mean that the trial rooms should be built so tiny. But all credit to them for fitting all four sides (including the back of the door) with mirrors to give the false impression of space...and to positively horrify the 'trier' if the outfit should look ghastly! If you think you look bad, look again and be certain of it!
The fan:
It's hot in India...very hot. But is there a need for a very small but extremely high speed fan to be placed on the ceiling that's not that high at all? It's almost scary to raise your hands up to put on the outfit lest it get stuck...and cut off! And let's not forget hair flying into your eyes, mouth and everything else...especially for those with wavy hair that becomes unmanageable with humidity (ahem)
The companion:
The most irritating part of the trial room experience is the jobless friend who's job it is to bring different sizes of the same outfit to the 'trier' should the size not fit. And invariably, it won't. Back and forth they go bringing different colours, sizes, patterns and so on. It doesn't stop with just that either. Comments and critiques galore...yes, no, maybe, definitely not, awesome, blah, blah...until someone (usually me) glares at them first..and then, if the hint is still ignored, yells at them. There is a supervisor for the trial rooms but these are usually helpless people who just roll their eyes and sigh at all this drama. All they do is fold the discarded clothes really.
The queue:
Mums with kids in-tow (ahem), dads with cell phones ringing (ahem ahem), college kids with bored expressions, elderly couples trying to manage rowdy kids...everyone's in line but not everybody is actually waiting to try on stuff. No, they are holding spots for friends and family! The great Indian reservation system in full force!
Sigh...one of the few things that I miss about the States...
Opening the door:
It takes a bit to figure out how to...push or pull? What if there's no handle? It's hilarious to see people try it one way, feel terribly embarrassed and do the opposite. Sometimes even that won't work...why? Because there's someone inside and the sign on the knob that says 'occupied' or 'vacant' (just like in the aeroplane loos) is jammed.
Hanging the clothes:
Why is it that most stores have just three hooks or less to put the hangers in? Yes, the rules say 'only three garments at a time' but come on, this is India. No one follows rules so they might as well remove the sign! Even if you do take only the prescribed three garments, where are you supposed to put the clothes that you are in? On the floor?? OK, they may be old but definitely not that bad! These are times when it pays to own a large handbag...it makes a good floor mat substitute. (All you designer handbag owners, disregard this...I'm sure you will first run out naked than put your precious bags on the floor)
Space:
I know stores are trying to maximize display space but that doesn't mean that the trial rooms should be built so tiny. But all credit to them for fitting all four sides (including the back of the door) with mirrors to give the false impression of space...and to positively horrify the 'trier' if the outfit should look ghastly! If you think you look bad, look again and be certain of it!
The fan:
It's hot in India...very hot. But is there a need for a very small but extremely high speed fan to be placed on the ceiling that's not that high at all? It's almost scary to raise your hands up to put on the outfit lest it get stuck...and cut off! And let's not forget hair flying into your eyes, mouth and everything else...especially for those with wavy hair that becomes unmanageable with humidity (ahem)
The companion:
The most irritating part of the trial room experience is the jobless friend who's job it is to bring different sizes of the same outfit to the 'trier' should the size not fit. And invariably, it won't. Back and forth they go bringing different colours, sizes, patterns and so on. It doesn't stop with just that either. Comments and critiques galore...yes, no, maybe, definitely not, awesome, blah, blah...until someone (usually me) glares at them first..and then, if the hint is still ignored, yells at them. There is a supervisor for the trial rooms but these are usually helpless people who just roll their eyes and sigh at all this drama. All they do is fold the discarded clothes really.
The queue:
Mums with kids in-tow (ahem), dads with cell phones ringing (ahem ahem), college kids with bored expressions, elderly couples trying to manage rowdy kids...everyone's in line but not everybody is actually waiting to try on stuff. No, they are holding spots for friends and family! The great Indian reservation system in full force!
Sigh...one of the few things that I miss about the States...
September 14, 2010
Circle of Life
"You were so little when I saw you last! Look how much you've grown now! How time flies!" - heard this before? If you live in India and are surrounded by a roomful of family or 'family friends', you most certainly would have. I've always found it quite hard to react to such statements. Or, I should say I don't think my reaction would have been tolerated! Yes, its been long, yes I've grown (duh) and yes, time does fly! Stating the obvious and expecting an equally enthusiastic response...difficult, especially when its a frequent occurrence.
The other day, I heard that a little boy I knew from a long time ago just had a baby. And my first thought was, "What? He had a baby? My god, I remember him as a brat! HE had a baby??" And that's when it hit me! I had become them...the ones that I used to make fun of not too long ago!
This either means that I have aged, considerably, or that I have not made an effort to stay in touch with people and keep up with their life updates. In today's world where technology makes it oh-so-difficult to not be in touch by some means or the other, all signs point to the former of my two conclusions.
I vaguely recall some song...'age ain't nothing but a number' but I don't remember too much...is it my age?
The other day, I heard that a little boy I knew from a long time ago just had a baby. And my first thought was, "What? He had a baby? My god, I remember him as a brat! HE had a baby??" And that's when it hit me! I had become them...the ones that I used to make fun of not too long ago!
This either means that I have aged, considerably, or that I have not made an effort to stay in touch with people and keep up with their life updates. In today's world where technology makes it oh-so-difficult to not be in touch by some means or the other, all signs point to the former of my two conclusions.
I vaguely recall some song...'age ain't nothing but a number' but I don't remember too much...is it my age?
September 5, 2010
Happy Teachers Day!
Patience, persistence, perseverance, passion, knowledge, commitment - it takes all of this and more to make a good teacher. We’ve all had many teachers in our lives. Some have touched our hearts more than others but they all meant well. To all my teachers, too many to name but not too many to remember, Happy Teachers Day!
You taught me all you know to the best of your ability.
You encouraged me and believed in me when I doubted myself.
You cheered for me when I did something I wasn't the best at.
You were patient and understanding when I stared blankly back at you.
You made me believe that anything was possible.
I didn’t realize the importance of all of it then. But I do now. You’ve shaped a huge part of me. What I am is because of you. Thank you for everything, especially the wonderful memories.
You taught me all you know to the best of your ability.
You encouraged me and believed in me when I doubted myself.
You cheered for me when I did something I wasn't the best at.
You were patient and understanding when I stared blankly back at you.
You made me believe that anything was possible.
I didn’t realize the importance of all of it then. But I do now. You’ve shaped a huge part of me. What I am is because of you. Thank you for everything, especially the wonderful memories.
July 13, 2010
For love of country, sport or self?
Sportspersons/athletes have many goals. Some (most) want to be number 1 in the world...the best at what they do best. Others want to represent their country at the Olympics, even feeling that this is the biggest honour possible. Still others want to become famous while making a lot of money from endorsements and the like.
So what happens when someone has all of these goals? They may want one thing, their country may want something else from them, their bodies, after all the beating, may be willing to give something totally different than the requirements and so on. What can an athlete do when the demand and availability are in total contradiction? Who gets priority? The person who is striving for individual glory to be the best in the world? Or the person that the country most needs at that point in time? Let's not forget about the body that doesn't want to give at all! Is the athlete not entitled to some time off from all these demands? Can such time off be planned so as to not upset any of the people making the demands?
I'm not at all a fan of Rafael Nadal but I did feel sorry for the guy when all and sundry gave him hell for going to the World Cup Finals rather than playing a crucial Davis Cup tie against France. After a gruelling clay and grass court season, all he wanted was some time-off. The time-off coinciding with the Davis Cup as well as the World Cup was just his luck. What if Nadal had chilled out at home instead of being in South Africa? Would that have been better in the minds of those that criticized him? Seems like a bit of sour grapes syndrome...'I can't go to the finals so why should you just because you're famous? Do your job like how I'm doing mine and watch the finals on TV'!
It's not like Nadal planned it...no one other than Paul, the octopus, knew that Spain was going to win anyway.
So what happens when someone has all of these goals? They may want one thing, their country may want something else from them, their bodies, after all the beating, may be willing to give something totally different than the requirements and so on. What can an athlete do when the demand and availability are in total contradiction? Who gets priority? The person who is striving for individual glory to be the best in the world? Or the person that the country most needs at that point in time? Let's not forget about the body that doesn't want to give at all! Is the athlete not entitled to some time off from all these demands? Can such time off be planned so as to not upset any of the people making the demands?
I'm not at all a fan of Rafael Nadal but I did feel sorry for the guy when all and sundry gave him hell for going to the World Cup Finals rather than playing a crucial Davis Cup tie against France. After a gruelling clay and grass court season, all he wanted was some time-off. The time-off coinciding with the Davis Cup as well as the World Cup was just his luck. What if Nadal had chilled out at home instead of being in South Africa? Would that have been better in the minds of those that criticized him? Seems like a bit of sour grapes syndrome...'I can't go to the finals so why should you just because you're famous? Do your job like how I'm doing mine and watch the finals on TV'!
It's not like Nadal planned it...no one other than Paul, the octopus, knew that Spain was going to win anyway.
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