No Comments but Compliments!

Compliments are always nice and they make your day!


After having read somewhere that giving a compliment to a stranger (like a bank teller who you are interacting with in a bank, a salesperson in a boutique etc),was not considered uncivil but was rather one of the good things you could do in life. I actually do that once in a while. If I find someone with beautiful hair, I walk to that person and tell her. She is astonished at first, breaks into a smile and then perhaps gets slightly suspicious until I disappear!! It however leaves a nice finish, a lingering feeling of joy or rather, a joy out of doing yet another‘weird’ thing.

All that aside, I am now developing an ease at complimenting people who I 'know'.Be it D's lovely kurta or G's white shirt with nice black vertical stripes or M's beautiful eyes! Most often, we just don’t do that. Can you remember when were you last given a compliment? And when did you give one!

Every individual, specially women, crave for compliment. Be it on their dress, looks, hair, smile, eyes, or the curry they cooked last night! One thrives on such attention or the rare adulation.Though women are known to be checking out other women. But when it comes to compliments, all women are the same, they really need one, and they hardly give one!!

Men and compliments must come in a package. Specially when they are courting their sweethearts. They are apt at giving you that look and telling you, that you look great! Great!! that word sums it up. A woman's compliment to another speaks volumes- the compliment albeit a rare one, has more texture and depth than just GREAT! Is it the women's eye to detail that the compliments are rare, or is it the adulation of men that complimenting the women is easier for them!

Well, compliments are not recieved everyday. You want to make someone's day then give a genuine compliment. And for you all is not lost,you have yourself- to compliment! But again, you should be able to compliment honestly! As in, look in to the mirror, when you have taken care to dress up and smile …GOSh, that female in the mirror is looking pretty!! Well, in case you smile you are bound to look pretty! So, said my class teacher, all girls look beautiful with a smile on!

Now this deserves a comment if not a compliment!

Media Vehicle!

Health, Beauty and Cosmetics Estée Lauder always said there were three ways to communicate: telephone, telegraph and tell a woman.

Caught a...

It is in deed difficult time in Kolkata. There might be a lot of 'catching up' if you were not already aware.

There was this recent riot over Taslima Nasreen. During our discussion at office,her (in)famous Lajja caught our attention. Then there was venemous condemning of all the violence. It was terrible, the children coming home from school were caught in a difficult situation.

Things got this bad, that 'catch' no more reminded one of the good days of Indian Cricket. And well, to make the matters worse, the cold has descended in Kolkata. Being from Kathmandu, (which everyone here believes is cold through out the year) I was selected as the responsible one to 'catch' the cold. Lo! I caught it.

However, I cannot take the achiever's trophy alone. For I can hear the continous, 'surrrrr surrrrr' from behind my back. There is G, who has stepped up, shown his bravery and claims his share of fame having caught a cold himself! I wonder if all the cops in Kolkata will soon follow our footsteps!

Hmm, so the incessant 'dhrrrrr' from the office ac is now punctuated with timely 'srrr srrr'. This is not some funny sound to be laughed at. Its not rare but a prerogative of this part of the world. During my short stay in Europe, I was faced with people forcing their head out of their noses. Covering their nose with a wide 'kerchief they would go 'shoo...choo...khooo.....' (depending on their origin, French , German or Italina... and more on my translation of their nasal phonetics). They are so bereft of the rhythmic, 'srr srr', I would muse, while punctuating the silence in many public places in Swiss with my rhythmic you know what!

But this sound of music was not to last long.Not having an ac to add to the beats of the music, Linus interrupted. 'Can't you just blow in one shot rather than pulling it up again throught your nasal track while it stubbornly wants to get the hell out.And you like someone scared of losing a precious possession are there guarding strictly at the exit, and a vehement .... SURRRR each time it tries to sneak out. 'Let it go V', let it go, or rather blow it out. It is not like a past love affair that you are clinging to!

Hmm, after the rare lecture from soft spoken Linus, I changed my strategy and went anti SURRRR... though I did doubt that someday I will blow my head out through my nose!

G goes SURRR once again, reminding me of the good old days and I promptly head to the looo to blow out in one .........................!

Deepawali - a garland of lamps!

A picture speaks for itself! Shot taken a day before Diwali, on the balcony of Netscribes, Kolkata.

Happy Deepawali

A festival of lights!

I have seen children so eager at the mention of Deepawali (better known as Diwali). We too as children were like that. Looking forward to was so easy back then- new frocks, people visiting us, we visiting people and of course NO SCHOOL. These days it is 'Dhoni Dhamakas' (cracker named after the current Indian cricket captain), designer lamps and more.

Things changed over time as things change over time! The girls grow up from their frocks to their longer skirts, boys from their shorts to full lenght trousers but the looking forward to doesn't change much. From a festival of lights, Diwali however did become a 'cleaning spree for me'. Diwali time became synonimous with a 'clutter free' exercise, as we started to help Mom get rid of things we did not need. There were things like the house being painted, washing the curtains,etc. etc. that busied the adults of the house. We on our part removed the trophies placed on the pelmet tops and clean the surface and the accolades. Sadly those cups have been long packed up in the attic, no more in the prized display!

I do not know why but I somehow ended up enjoying the 'sorting out clutter'. I still enjoy going through things that have just been- buried under several layers in my drawers.The fun begins once you take out each thing and then before deciding which heap they should go to- The 'throw now' or 'throw later, next year perhaps ;)" or the 'can't be thrown'- you go back to the times when you had accumulated those stuff. Then comes those dilemmas one might dread. Of keeping the postcards given by friends when we were in standard V. Or those birthday cards collected over the years, or the newspaper cuttings like- Jug Surraiya's Monsoon Wedding, Dosa and Goethe (the middle piece in TOI long back, cherished till today!)... These were treasures I never went back to until Diwali. And come Diwali, they would come out popping from various drawers. I would spend the rest of my 'cleaning day' re reading articles, letters, cards. Now with the e-age. Things are so much simpler. My friends send me mails, and e-greetings! And Gosh, my inbox is cluttered! But I have no heart to give it a Diwali Spruce up.

I did end up sorting out and removing what I had not used for the past two years, and then have moved on to removing stuff I have not used in the past one year. I believe one could develop a therapy, if it did not already exist. A therapy of sorting clutter. This exercise soothes you, brings a sense of 'organized' to the unorganized mind! But I think this will be a cult therapy. As there dont seem to be many takers. My mom would oppose it outright, she has never been too happy when I take days cleaning a small room of mine! Moreover, she is a more compiling than a throwing person!

Too much of clutter, let me talk of lights now. How I love lighting 'diyas' , the small earthen lamps. And how lovely they look, jhil mil compensating for the sky bereft of the shining moon! Happy Diwali all of you!!

Bean there, Done that!

Something on Coffee:

Well here is some bean for thought for coffee cravers!

Green coffee is coffee that has not been roasted.

The drink "Americano" was named after American soldiers in WW II who found the European way of drinking caffe as espresso too strong. Baristas would cut the espresso with hot water for them. (from wiki)

Which leading brand in American coffee has the tagline: 'Good to the last drop'?

You might not really hear of Nescafe in US!

(more later...)

New Post

No new posts? No new recipes tried? No lovestories spun? My long time ago journo friend, even came to an extent of suggesting, Marriage...is showing AGE on you!

So, I decided, that the next time idea flits (another friend of mine suggests carefully dropping out the 'r' from 'flitting'), I should obediently open my notebook and keep jotting.

I read my friends blog, where she was babbling about, Manjushree Thapa's short story collection... Ummm., the good things in life... reading books, listening to songs that your friend introduces you to, the smell of baking cake... and getting jealous when your best friend gets another 'bosom friend'.... he he (i am kidding annie)

Hmm, its travel time again. Rajasthan is the destination. I hope to get loads of pictures and then blog them all.

Till then, shaadi girl and shaadi boy keep jumping!!

iPhone!

Apple with Aplomb?

The much hyped debutant in this June, iPhone has been called, ‘game changer’, ‘magic’ and a ‘revolutionary phone’. The New York Times says, ‘The creation, the iPhone, priced at $499 or $599, will not be for everyone.’ But this creation is set to change the operating paradigm for the music and mobile industry. Like iPod changed the way we listen to portable music, is iPhone going to change the way we say ‘hello’ or is it going to create a whole new mobile web experience?

Steve Job introduced this revolutionary phone at MacWorld 2007, as an iPod, a phone and Internet communicator. ‘A product that is way smart and way easy to use.’
The buzz word has been the revolutionary user interface. With a giant screen and the best pointing device: the finger, Apple has set the shift to a paradigm of touch screen interface.

The revolution is not as much in the seamless integration as is in the simplicity of use. The ‘button less’ experience clearly announces the departure from technology oriented experience that only makes it difficult for the user to operate the phone to an amazingly pleasurable user experience. In other words, the hours of poring into the user manual to get going with one’s smart phones are going to be a matter of past with iPhone. The mobile industry will now shift to an iClone axis so that they are in same position as the iPhone, way smart and way easy.

Music and social networking will certainly see a change with an iPod and a phone together. The discussion below tries to sum up the changes that iPhone can bring in the music and mobile industry.

Changes in Mobile music Industry:
Mobile phones already are equipped with music player. However they are all lacking what a music listener needs. Be it a constraint like storage capacity (64 MB – 128 MB are standard flash card memory) or overpriced songs. No wonder phone users use their phone to listen to music. Today they use iPod.

Changes in mobile industry

User Interface (UI)
Like we have transcended from command line to icon based user interface in PC computing, mobile UI will shift from the ‘button - key’ interface to touch interface. This will change the high tech mobiles into a handy gadget.

Better Software
Jobs pointed out in his key notes, buttons and controls can’t change. But now we are equipped with a UI that gives immense room for improvisation of gadgets in few clicks (or rather finger taps). It might be as simple as a downloadable ‘update’ in the phone that can access the Internet. With iPhone 5 years ahead of any phone, we will see a spur of phones with better software.

Visual appeal
More over, with the slick design of the iPhone, we have stepped onto a generation of truly good looking phones. Handsets will not just deliver functional requirements. They will strive to fulfill the emotional desire of the users.

Simple and precise mobile services
Visual non linear voice mail : iPhone does away with listening to voice mail linearly, one can now jump to the important voice mails without going through a myriad of other voice mails.

Content Industry in Mobile
Mobile advertising will become more aggressive thanks to giant sized pocketable screens, which will give a bigger platform for the viewable information. We might also see a departure from the expensive ring tones to music tracks downloaded through iTune.

Apple’s Strategy
iPod to iPhone ?
In a way iPhone might be all poised to cannibalize its own sibling before the competition does. With your phone and your iPod (both integral to users today) together, you are carrying one device less with you and you will listen to music on your phone.

Apple must be looking at pocketable computing power, social communication network and music all in one in the future. There may be another leapfrog from iPhone to a more futuristic yet simple device.

References
http://www.webdirections.org/2007/06/11/iphonesafari-is-the-mosaic-of-the-mobile-web/
http://www.apple.com/quicktime/qtv/mwsf07/
http://www.infosyncworld.com/news/n/7407.html

http://gigaom.com/2007/06/29/iphone-music/

Farewell, is it?

Home Sweet Home
Last night before saying good night to mommy, I knew I would miss home. I wanted to cry and ask her if I could stay with her. I was so much at home again. It was okay even if my brother had sabotaged my room. That I did not have my personal phone and pc. I did not want those flashy rings, that slick cam, or anything. I wanted to be home, with mom and dad.

It is hard to leave the place where you have grown up!

Friends my treasure

Yesterday, I was with Annie the entire evening. Shopping for her wedding.The two of us were shopping again like we used to. The one difference, and probably one BIG, we were both into jewellery now. She tried various gold bangles on her delicate wrist. I suggested a this and a that. We looked throught the array of gold rings and then diamonds, 'girl's best friend', they twinkled .

But my treasure and my friend, is not a diamond that have been mined from the bloody mines of South Africa, but this diamond who is soon going to be married to a buddy of mine (oh oh).

work work and no work

A buddy suggested I get into writing a book. Annie suggested dropping CVs at Banks, as a management trainee.

I cringe when I have to fill the occupation field in various forms. 'House wife", 'freelancer' or others, these are the options I am stuck with. Freelancer is an achievment through my exteneded imagination :)


Kathmandu
Kathmandu, you and your dirty streets. The bomb explosions, the shortage of petrol... the crazy gallies (alleys)... I will miss you!

Poorani Jeans aur...

Nostalgia, is it?

Last night I was driving my same old car. After more than a year, driving 4842 had been slightly difficult. But last night I was driving alone . It brought back memories. Memories of those old days, driving home in the evening. Almost dark. Driving alone. Yet not so alone. I remember so well talking to myself or was it talking to someone else. There was a someone who used to occupy my solitude. My thoughts of a faraway lover, an invisible beloved. Who was not there, yet was there. 'So much in love with the idea of love', my friend would tease me. I even had a poster which read, I am already fallen in love and now I am waiting for some one to fall in love with me. It was cute poster, showing a teddy fallen in a nicely lit well.

One fine day the invisible beloved would become visible. 'And he will do pattar pattar (prattle) in Hindi sitting next to you', Annie would comment as our gang would sipping coffee in one of the cafes in town. We would slyly exchange that knowing smile. I couldn't share my fantasy of an invisible lover to all, could I?

Such is youth. Love fills your heart to the brim . My ride last night revived those crazy old days, and I realized I have become wiser, (should you read OLDER!).

This is an aimless post, let me link it to Milan's jumbled love poemto make some sense out of nonsense!

Of Morning Walks

Random thoughts

He tells me, Kolkata's biggest business is food business, during our 15 minutes jog. The beautiful monument, Victoria Memorial, bathed in the early sunlight gives me a sense of gazing at Taj mahal. I quicken my pace and my steps fall along with his. 'Why?' I enquire. And he smiles as he looks ahead.

My recent stint to morning walk cum jog has made me observe certain things. And while jogging I wonder if there is going to be a next Chetan Bhagat style book on Victoria Memorial in the morning. I mean it is amazing: the fresh air, the greenery, so many people, some laughter club ( an 'attahas' (Hindi word, Sanskrit origin, would be more apt rather than calling it laughter), yogas, Ramdev Babas tummy in tummy out...(kapalbhaanti, i remember), men and women of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, in different attire.

I tell him, it is such a melting pot :
half pants,
full pants..
he adds and dhotis too!

While the women are dressed in sarees with running shoes, salwar kameez, track pants.

Of the variety of size, kyaa kehna. He justifies why food business is such a rage here. People don't think twice, they eat while they are thinking. And guilt about food is something to ponder later and of course an incentive to start on morning walks.

I know this post isn't as interesting as my daily visit to the garden is. The in between statues of different men who were conferred Knighthood during the English Regime, the stray dogs, few ducks, the sparkling water in the pond, the lover duos scattered here and there, the lined cars, the Rs 4 blue ticket, the pigeons, the horses outside the gate, men playing volleyball across the garden.

It is a stimulating scene. It is like a start of the day. So much of acitivity. And sweat, I realise this as I pat my face dry with my towel during my run.

In search of truth

In search of truth :

There it lies,
naked and bare
for the fear of profanity
they merely call it unclothed.

There it lies,
bitter and distasteful
for the fear of truth
they call it news!

The devil and the poet

The Devil and I

I see the devil lurking
I see it eye me
I ignore it
I close my eyes

The devil gets near
I feel my throat choke
I have no option but to fight
Yet, I prepare no defense

I must be convinced
That I want to live
That I deserve to be happy
That I can't let this devil grip me

I am lucky
That I am not in its clutches
That I am still free and thinking
That I might want to defeat this devil...

Tring Tring

I called up an old friend today. Just like that. Or to say a quick hi. To ask when is the wedding and more. Hmm, given the number of questions I shot, the other fellow must have thought of me as an aspiring Derek O Brien. I on the other hand thought of myself in less endearing position, of a businessperson doing 'takada' (getting a brief or report)!

Well, let me not get into the Business World (of which I know a wee bit), but lets get into the social circle that I am comfortable with. Like talking to an old friend, or writing a long mail. These days, I realize I do not like to write long mails. No wonder I am still to write to Zanie's 'kyaa haal hey' (how you doing?) mail. My mails have never been too short or concise. But these days they are. One of the most important reason is I have to write something exciting, something you will read and at least smile, a little humor infused here and there, some news that will make you jump etc etc. Etcetra etcetra (is the spelling correct!!)

So, I was hoping to apply for jobs to few places, so that there will something I can write about. What's there to write about having watched, the replica of Hitch, 'Partner' or Cash ... hmm.. I wonder why but I like watching commercials better these days. Is it the short span of attention that I am bestowed with which is in tandem with the commercials or is it the quirky tune of, 'jo khaya to mania hoi gava' of Maggi fame.

Okay, I can write about a book that I am reading. "It happened in India". Well there are more books piled up. Time on my hand. Hmm.. 'time on my hand' that reminds me of a sound track ...'i got time on my hand, you on my mind and nothing to lose'. Hmm... there was some song playing in the caller tune when I had dialled this friend of mine this morning. Sorry, can't remember that.

Okay, so this post was supposed to be about phone calls we make. I thought like short mails, I am more into short conversations. Yet I talk at lengths, though I now appreciate shorter conversations. Its basically, lets get to the point. In spite of this mind set, like today, for no reasons, I pick up the phone and dial. Hmm interesting... sometimes we can get out of this ' no nonsense mode' to the normal 'wierd mode'. What a paradox?

When was it that you called up an old friend just like that. To update each other. To laugh over the days together.

How we will all get busy. Some times busy doing nothing (and merely blogging as JB would point out, in case he is reading my blogs still).

Now though friendship day is over...here is a message to a friend of mine:
'Toast to the days of 4842, and take heart I have progressed to enjoying the humor of Saki!'
(will I be gifted some good book when I see you this time??? ;) :P)

Ok, Taureans are materialistic. I agree. Who won't if you are at the recieving end, albeit when the end is followed by gifts :)

More later...

till then,
:-) keep that jump in your voice alive!!

Flower

Poetry again folks. Well don't blame me, it's your 'wah wahs' that has led me to try my hand at it once more.

Flower

I hold you in my hand
You silently behold me
I accuse you of your beauty, of your innocence of your silence
You smile, you hide your pain and wilt a little

I notice in a little while
That perhaps I have not loved you enough
So I cause you such agony
In such thoughts I embrace you fiercly

You still do not speak
But the your teary dews wet my cheek
Oh! Flower tell me, ifyour delicate heart bleeds
Whilst I press you on to my bossom?

Candle

Poetry for a change! Wish I knew some Urdu, to pen few stray thoughts that come in idle hours. Do leave your wah wah any case!

Candle
I try and build a huge wall
To keep the winds away
Lest they touch my soul
And the flame will dance and sway

When in the confines of such solitude
Who am I to blame
When it is my own breath
That flickers the flame

Knowledge Versus Wisdom

'Why is it called wisdom tooth?', I writhed in pain. Linus must have sighed some deep breath of relief without letting me know. Well, I have not been talking much, if you should know. No, not that I am becoming wiser to consider if speech is silver, silence is golden. Silence in fact is a ulcer in the gum thanks to the mis positioned wisdom tooth!

Hmm, silence does give one some space to contemplate. In a slight meditative posture: back straight and eyes closed, I muse, isn't there a knowledge tooth in the offing. I merely smile at my wise self and scorn off the thoughts of knowledge tooth, tongue or toe nail! (in precisely same order).

I browse through wiki to see what it says on wisdom:

Wisdom, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, is defined as the "1 a: Accumulated philosophic or scientific learning-knowledge; b: Ability to discern inner qualities and relationships-insight; c: Good sense-judgment d: Generally accepted belief . 2: A wise attitude, belief, or course of action. 3: The teachings of the ancient wise men"[1].

(source :http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wisdom)

Hmm, quite a heavy definition! It includes knowledge in its definition. Well, well well, lest I deviate my wisdom tooth gently grazes my smooth red gums and I become wiser. I recall my visits to the dentist. The clean clinic, the white apron, the light over my mouth, the hand in glove and PAIN. Argh, I recall with regret the advise of the doc, we might need to extract the WISDOM tooth, if it stays stubborn and continues to bully the gum.

Now, my dear wisdom tooth, can I ask you to exercise some wisdom and just live and let live, lest you want me to be purely knowledgeable and bereft of wisdom albeit wisdom tooth!

Reliance Web World

I am in Reliance web world. I wonder if it should evoke few memories. Memories like talking to people from home who would be chatting in the air conditioned comfort of RBB. Well, it evokes one long lost marketer's feeling, who ever said a product without an experience with it can work in today's market! Well, you might not know I just am back from Central Bank. The sight of the bank and the officials make me wonder that such an institution is also running. We have come to the age of net banking (though most of us are still jogging our memories to remember THE PASSWORD).

Passbooks to passwords!

Well, sitting at the other end, or rather with the tables turned, as I experience the web surfing experience of RBB, I have nothing much to complain except this 'hard to push down' keyboard. ANd yes though I may still blush at the thought of writing a love mail or chatting with a special one from such a public domain, I see such an immense market for teen hangouts in the virtual world. Of course it has been tapped. To make things better there is webcam at help, to give e-dates a touch of life, with shared cakes and coffees (images only!) along with glowing smiles.

Well, this much for now. I am irked at the keyboard, but I am open to writing!!! Hmm well this makes me write you a closing note too. Writing does need an environment. I miss the desk back home in Kathmandu, I miss that chair, and that mirror hanging opposite to my working area. Now I realize I have my mirror opposite to my desk exactly the same way here in Kolkata too. So do I SEE ideas flowing!!!

Irrelevant details from life

'Bonjour', said the man behind the huge flat pan as he saw me meditating over his crepes. I was almost enchanted at the way he circled out a thin crepe over the huge pan. The crepe of the same diameter as that of the pan, which was three times the normal dosas I have seen back home. I had been looking intently at how he poured the batter, flattened the batter into a nice circle with the help of a flat wooden rod with a stick in its centre. Moving that equipment, clockwise first and anticlockwise next. Then flipping the crepe up, sprinkling sugar and caramel and folding it neatly like a thin handkerchief or a napkin.

I looked up completely startled by his 'Bonjour' and was more puzzled to see his enquiring eyes. Ah! I just smiled dumbly and walked away. Linus had a good laugh. He said I was staring so hard, it had probably unnerved the fella. All I could explain to him - it was such a lovely sight. He said, you must be hungry. And we headed to Mc. D.

There is little choice for food for vegetarians. Even the cheese is not really vegetarian. It has something from the calf's stomach. When I had enquired for a vegetarian cheese, I recieved a puzzled and amazed look. Fromage (cheese in French), it is Fromage! Period. Can cheese be non vegetarian!!

Well, a vegetarian by birth, I often wonder why people are non vegetarian. And people, my friends tell me, 'what possibly can you eat! just grass and flowers!' 'Is it because of religion', J had enquired during a dinner hosted by us. No, it just runs into our family. And what if your children want to eat, Mc Chicken! Hmm, I smile and imagine a dozen brats, eating Mc. Chicken. I can only tell them to brush their teeth, I tell J. He smiles, oh just brush the teeth. That sounds reasonable.

Children, ah! I must be quite old by now, to even comprehend the thought that 'kid' can be someone else other than me. Hmm, children, what strange creatures they are. Half your size and they make you run around like crazy. The other day, a little girl about 5 had come to my apartment with her mother. I had to divide my attention while talking to the mother and rushing in between to save my laptop on which she was pounding her hands madly and rescue the remote which she hurled in air while in an excited stupor of having discovered 'tom and jerry channel'.

Sometimes I think children have this perfect world of freedom. Unadulterated by thougths of shame, or concept of nudity. I have read that one of the most common dreams that people have is, where they find themselves in company without an appropriate attire. While that little girl feels absolutely nothing as she runs around with her bare bottom.

While I look for freedom of expressions among women wearing what they want, mini skirts and halter necks, or random muses posted in internet, I see those naughty pair of eyes looking back at me with a quizzical look. Mocking at me, saying FREEDOM COMES From a wild spirit!! Perhaps I am imagining those eyes quizzing me. She just must be wondering when will I give her the chocolate that she has earned after having recited all the rhymes and telling me her name, father's name and all telephone numbers at her momma's prodding. 'Smart girl naa', the momma shining with pride exclaims.

I wonder if having a child would make it a different world for a woman. 'Having kids is a full time job', the exasperated mom had exclaimed while I was glowering at the little one for behaving like THIS. At her statement I just wondered, it must mean: No more afternoons filled with silence or just the noises from the street. No more the loneliness punctuated by the incessant chirps of sparrows or staring at the arch of a gate of a villa just by the lake. And looking at the water through that arch.

Proabably I could just have a Siamese Cat, and name it Kathmandu. It would be a less than full time job, I smile at myself.

A cat or a baby... oh both are such a chore. But a baby will grow up. And if I believe what A had said, will cease to be a family. A is an English lady. The cat (she had a Siamese cat called Kathmandu), will be hard to handle. If you are traveling or working, you can't leave them alone for long. They get anxiety or bouts of loneliness and feel sick.

I should be feeling like Kathmandu sometime. I must investigate if I have those bouts of loneliness. Or perhaps, it must be different, some other poetic melancholy, that is essential to churn out a good post!

Blogging again

I managed to get an access to internet, somehow. Neighbours, especially Indian neighbours in a foreign land are a great boon. My next door friend leaves me her apartment's keys so that I can sneak in anytime and check mails or post blogs!

Last night we had a wonderful time with an English couple. It was a rainy evening, and a little colder than usual. But that did not deter our spirits. We went to the restaurant by the lake. We sat inside since it was raining, but from the glass panes I could feel the lake right there. Facing the lake and the setting sun, it seemed beautiful. How location can be such an important factor. It is one of the Ps in the marketing product mix, when it comes to service industry. Where you are determines what you are!

Hmm, it was an indulgence at the end. The tiramisu. 'Sinful' I exclaimed. Imagine all that calories..or rather Kilo cals!! But it tasted heavenly.

For a change no one was talking work. It was nice evening. And we walked back home. It was then A had remarked, 'how far we have come, it seems rather quick since we have been talking.' We had actually almost reached their hotel and in what seemed no time. P quipped, ' ah, so your life must have sped by.' What a terrific sense of wit! I smiled, amused.

It is rare to have such a nice time socializing. I wonder if it is because I have lost my socializing skills or is it that I need to have that rapport to be comfortable. Oh yes, I still can turn stoic and quiet in companies that I am some how uncomfortable for no known reasons. I think this is quite common or rather human or may be universal. One must feel at home... Be it a Siamese cat called Kathmandu or a dog called Mutt in Kiran Desai's Inheritance of loss.

See, how I shift gears from evening to food to pets. I have never had a pet. I do not think I would ever have one. But the most amusing pet I have seen, was a mouse. My friend had actually 2 mice. Ying and Yang. I wonder how she knew one from the other. But a bad cat ate Ying or was it Yang. And later the survivor died an unceromonious death. Less heroic than being chased by the cat.

Ugh! I did not want to fill in the details of the rat race err...rat chase. But of the instance when both the rat and I had jumped out of our wits, in an encounter deliberately planned to introduce two loved ones to one another. I am sorry if calling Ying/Yang a rat is derogatory.

Someone once asked me if I miss home. I wonder which home. The one I left when I got married, or the one I left when I came to Swiss. The home before marriage, for me has been frozen in time, exactly the day I left it in February, a year ago. I had carefully packed away my precious belongings. Given away sea shells to a cousin to keep them as lovingly as I had. The shells I had collected from Hongkong's beaches. Tucked away my diaries. Threw pieces of papers with stupid poetries I had written, one was I remember 'Mr. Tea'. I can smile at the thought of it! I donated clothes I would not need again. Returned books that I had borrowed. GOt back my books that friends still had. Emptied my wardrobe, so that someone else would have space when I wasn't there.

WHen I go back to that home, will I start from that point of time! THe time, the moment froze just for me, every one else will have moved. Friends to jobs, to marriages, to new love stories. I will not know how to fit myself again in that room. To stare out of the window and look at those neatly growing flowers in a row. Or turn on the PC and listen to Pink Floyd. And may be quarrel with mom over why I am late again!

There will be nothing of that sort. That life has disappeared. A part of me has gone. How I resist change. Or do I? To go back and stare at myself in the mirror...The same mirror and a different reflection. It is so weird that some changes are so sudden or are they really. Perhaps the realization of the change is sudden.

I am confused about my identity suddenly. Or rather I do not fit in that frozen image of me. That image is confused that there is no more of those , bland samosas of Ram dai in college canteen, or bickering about Rituz boutique or coffees and scrabbles in bakery cafe, or proffs I would have liked to hate. Everything is replaced, by a code or a decorum. Is it just my resistance to grow up?

Some one said so aptly, when u are in school you want to get in college, when you are in college you want to get into a job..and when you get into one... you miss your school....you miss your college.

Well, I think this is enough for today. And perhaps I should make this blog a personal blog seeing how much I ramble... with just few selected friends to share their thoughts on my weird thoughts.... argh...wotever....

Away

Folks!

I know some of you there are reading me. So I am talking to you. Well, the most essential of all, the internet connection, the life line... is at hold. Meaning I have no access to internet from home. That is...the 24 hour obsessed with net VID is now getting to her neighbor to check her occasional mail..

THis is because I am shifting back to my India home. So, until I get there, you know I am just trying to get unhooked. Trying relaxation techniques to do away with the net addict in me. And well no more of my boring blog posts for a while.

So I Will see you guys in midweek of June...

Till then,
keep reading and keep fit!
Jump may be!!

Vid

Face lifting!!

Hmm, Jo Bhi tells me my blog needs face lifting. Well a writer isn't a writer if she cannot take a critique without a pinch of salt...err is it sugar JB?

Now that JB has been featured in my blog, I am sure he has already thanked lady luck et al, I should respond to the face lift!

Once-upon-a-time (it was how I was tempted to start today's rambling, however..) I had had good thoughts on weight lifting. Those cushioned dumb bells for the females in form. Argh.. had it not been for the feministic flame in me, I would have probably goaded MOM into buying me those dainty things. But as I was, I did attempt some lifting of what was left of my uncle's not so once-upon-a-time gymming equipments. Now since I did not fracture even the tiniest bone of the little finger, it isn't worthy enough to be mentioned here (JB take cue, you have been featured and bestowed an honour you barely deserve or rather rarely deserve!!!)

Ok, so that was about the weights in the lifting. Next to that was my obsession for lifts themselves... I mean elevators. Brought up in a country where people still believe we ride bullock carts, elevators are hard to imagine. No wonder during my trips to Indian metros, we would devise games to get out of the tiny apartments and take lifts in the lift! The liftman would let the kids in vacation a few trips up and down!!

This is not really touching any nerve at all, this meaning my ramble. It ain't so far humorous nor the emotional bit that perhaps VID has the penchant for (ahem ahem). Very well to raise the sagging spirits, there must be a lift... So I lift a passage or rather an excerpt from what one reader had to say some time back..

**************************************************
i occassionally visit your blog to read it! it is interesting! the loss of form (and all else) is visible, but its very interesting... i'd rather suggest you should write... i wish you come back to form... ofcourse if you wish to, and if you are still passionate about it... you are just lovely in your writings...:D ok ok... otherwise too, i'm sure...

****************************************************

Now I hope that works super. Makes this post nice...with a 'hat ke' flavor. And perhaps answers few idiots who dared to tattle 'if Reena's ramble (wish I were taller and prettier, see The empty pram) were a candid confession.

So, yes a little up lifting would not do harm to this lovely writer. Now for a change why don't you readers do your bit. And throw in your bouquets!! in words.

Comments won't hurt, neither you...nor me (ouch!!)

The empty pram

She hugged him at the airport. He had walked up to her smiling. For a second both of them waited in a clumsy silence and then she threw her arms around him and hugged him.

Reena woke up from her dream with a smile. She checked her mobile to get the time. It was already past eleven and there was still no sign of Yatharth. She got up and dialled his number thinking perhaps he had got down the plane by now. Yatharth picked up and said, 'I am getting into the cab, I will be home.'

Home! Reena looked around the empty house. Was this home, she wondered as she observed her own shadow in dim light. She dismissed such depressing thoughts. She had work to do, heat dinner in microwave, lay down the table and yes re do her hair.

While doing her hair she looked into the mirror. She was not very tall, but standing at 158cm, she looked quite short to the six footer frame of Yatharth. She wished she were taller and prettier. When keeping back the comb in the drawer her fingers rubbed against a shiny cylindrical metal. It was a lipstick case. Someone had made it for her. It was one remebrance that she had allowed herself to carry over from her college days. She opened the case and took the lipstick out. She looked back at her pout in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction.

Just then the bell rang. She hurried to the door. Yatharth stood there a little tired. He bent down to kiss her freshly painted lips. 'Oh, but I have smudged you, Reena squealed like a child. Suddenly the dimly lit house had transformed into warm and bright home.

They sat down for dinner. Reena kept twittering about who all had called while he was away, about her friends who had volunteered to stay with her if she felt frightened to be home alone at night, and that she had been good and had not skipped lunch too many times!

Yatharth smiled, he took his wife in his arms and took her to bed. You must sleep, you look tired he said. Had he noticed something, Reena's heart beat quickened. She had not yet told him about her secret, about their secret. But he was already tucking her in bed. Office time tomorrow honey, he said and switched off the light.

Next morning, Reena woke up with a start. She fixed Yatharth's breakfast and tiffin as usual. She was just a bit preoccupied. Yatharth was in a morning rush to notice it perhaps. Was it just ordinary or did it signify something Reena wondered later in the bathtub. She had seen an empty pram in her dream.

Travel time!

My cousin has come over for 2 weeks to stay with us travel Suisse. My aunt had warned me I would have to stay full time in Kitchen as the kid comes famished from the US of A. Apart from the daily doses of his engineering and economics lessons he has survived on coke and chips. However the kid seems to have developed an appetite of traveling than eating! Hmm, so you can imagine we have been up and running! And of course the burner in the kitchen has so far obliged to churn out some goodies for our survival.

Well, after a long day today- traveling through Glaciers, literally amid snow fall, I sit down to reflect. What comes immediately to my mind are the few expressions we used during our travel, while marvelling at the lovely landscape"

* The trees look like soldiers clad in white fur
* The top of the churches on the ways reminded me of the 'sorting hat' of Harry Potter's fame
* The rhine gorge and rafting had us defining a river, a lake and a gorge. Linus remarked he had learnt and forgotton all. The scene however will never be forgotton I mused.
*We all wait for the sun together, the attendent in the Glacier Express remarked when few travellers commented on the cloudy day!
*I can't open my eyes: it is just too white.... we all said in chorus when the train emerged from a tunnel and snaked through land clad in shimmering white snow everywhere, on trees, on mounts and house tops!

Well let me sum up by just another few words:

dream like
the red toy train
a lesson in Geography
a returnable trip from heaven (this one from my cousin at his wittiest best!)

Few beautiful words

Sparkle
Twinkle
Smile
Home
Mommy
Sweetie
Wonderful
Lovely
Babies
Mirror
Nostalgia
Dreamy eyes
Coy

Oscar Wilde's Quote

Oscar Wilde said: "Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood."

Hmm, I stumbled on this quote today and then I had to have it on my blog. Oscar Wilde's quotes have a WOW factor! Well, had I still been in those mushy teen years, I would have by now turned on Bryan Adams and taken a flight in dreams to meet the Mr. Dream. But heck, I have grown up!

Sometimes I miss the teenage relapse that occurs until the bulb lights up!! 'Teenage relapse' thats some phrase with some WOW factor perhaps. I am not sure but I think this is an original phrase. I do not know if I copied it from someone. But I know I have used it so many times now... Like when I just crossed 19 (or should I say had turned 20 ;) ) and then the years since then, a sudden craving for bungee jumping, or refusing to obey parental curfews, or refusing to acknowledge the parental lectures, or lets face it a huge crush, I collectively termed them 'teenage relapse'.

I roll in my tongue to check if my wisdom tooth has actually surfaced and smile. Was it all really teenage relapse or was it a woman growing up? I am still wondering. Hmm, some men are intelligent. I found one intelligent guy, he exactly does as Wilde suggests. No effort to understand. None at all. You know what he does!

However, not all men are intelligent. I mean they might be seemingly but they still need to read what Wilde says!

:)

Well, you might choose to disagree. But I know even that will not make you drop a comment in here. Hmm, so my dear readers, just for the heck of it or rather for Wilde do jot in your thoughts 'aise hee'.

Idle thoughts in an idle hour

I have been too busy poring into the screen of my laptop. I get up tidy the house a bit. It is strange to think now, that I am saying tidy the 'house'. Strange because tidy had always followed my room. Hmm, now I have a house! Well, lest I digress let me continute to what my sight met. Clean clothes hanging on a line in the basement. I collect them and bring them up. I fold them into neat stacks and arrange them in the wardrobe. Then I switch the tv on, there is a tennis match going on. I pay little attention to it. Suddenly I look out and I freeze the scene in my memory. A moment later I get my cam and click. The clouds by now have engulfed the top of the mounts in their thick white blanket.

There is so much that nature has given. And so much that man has accomplished. The background sound of birds chirping interspersed with the sound coming from speeding automobiles, is one such combi of nature with man! I look out at the green mounts, the lake in a distance and wonder , poets must have come from this place.

In such an idle hour I try to pen something:

The white blanket of clouds
The white ducks paddling in the lake
The white lillies tucked on the pathway
I wonder how this color holds the rainbow in itself!

Mr. and Mrs Iyer

Of what we come across -Few things, few people, few books, few movies, few songs, few scenes become imprinted in mind.

Mr and Mrs Iyer is one such movie. Konkona Sensharma has acted marvelously. Superbly!

While watching the movie, I was most moved when the old couple were forced out of the bus. The old Muslim couple. Later through Raja's eyes as I saw the dentures fallen out of their broken case, the old man's glasses...And when Raja is typing on his computer about the dentures in its hedious grin, I feel a repulsion that I cannot explain.

For a second why the hell do we follow any religion at all. I suddenly go back to my teenage days when I used to start my diary entries with 'Dear God'. The word GOD strikes me oddly. Then I wonder what was the need for that old man in the movie to read his Kuran on the bus or, what is my need that I hang a picture of Lord Ganesha in my kitchen, why do we believe at all? If there is an Almighty after all... wouldn't s/he be affected by the killings in the name of religion...

They tell me, God is a concept which has been passed on to us by wise men so that our lives are hinged to a solid core. They tell me religion was developed so that civilized societies will have a face, an identity, a belief system that they could hold on to, belong to.

I had wondered as a child when I used to read about Hindu Muslim riots. I had even written a poem titled religion when I was 13. Now it does not affect me at all. I do not care. I turn a deaf ear to all those headlines screaming from newspapers or internet sites. Whether it was the killing in Virginia Tech or it was like a movie I watched, it remains a news. It is no more personal, like it was when I was a child.

Yet, if I could have my way, I would not belong to any religion. So, I say....so I say.... but this rebel in me disappears when someone in family falls sick. Or on small ocassions, like when I am cooking for guests, I take Ganesha's name so that the food will be good. Not only I have gone to God in times of trouble and asked for his help. I have considered it my right to accuse him when I am in trouble and to demand of him to make everything fine. He has so far complied. And when I am fine I say he is just a concept.

We need God, even if he might be a concept. Our life in this planet perhaps is not mere chance in the universe or possibly it is.

When I understand this... I who am an average human being. I fail to believe that so many of us will not understand that we are all human beings. I wonder why there is so much of man killing man at all. Why cannot we all be good, when our parents have taught us to be good.

It might seem that from the safety of my house I can rave and rant on a full stomach, but the designs of terror has not come out of poverty has it? It stems for greed of power. Power to destroy?

I remain speechless. I remain... And I hardly get affected, I hope!

Yatharth comes home

It is amazing how a single day can sometime stretch into innumerable days, Reena sighed. Yatharth was coming home today. Two flight changes and then a train back home, it would be late, he had told her. She had smiled and told him she would wait.

After weeks, there would be a proper dinner , she thought and busied herself deciding the menu. Besan kee roti like Amma made was Yatharth's favorite. She would crumble the roti with her hand and add ghee then mix it with curry and yogurt and then give it to Yatharth. This was exactly how she had seen Amma serve roti to all of them. Papa would top it with lot of onions and Amma would make a face, now you will have onion on your breath whole day. Reena shook herself out of the reverie. It was easy to take a journey back into the past when one had so much of time in hand. Time that she needed to kill!

She dragged herself from early morning till the afternoon. Switching the tv on and then switching it off. Listening to Pink Floyd and then turning to Bryan Adams. She had never missed home like she did today. From a fiery, hyperactive Reena she had mellowed down to a soft spoken and gentle Reena. Perhaps that was the outcome of keeping quiet for days.

Reena was still living her life in the hulla baloo of Kolkata. She had yet to immigrate in totality to this foreign land of lakeside and hills. Switzerland the dream destination was still dream like and not reality. Her mind still wandered to the puchka wallahs and moori wallahs back home. The building where she had lived with her parents had several people living in them. In their 7 storyed building here, Reena thought it was only she who had an apartment. She never saw a soul wandering in the corridor. THe doors were all shut, and she had to resist the urge to ring the door bell of the apartment opposite to her. Dropping in for a chat, to get to know your neighbors , was probably not acceptable here, this Reena had realized early on.

Then she had taken to herself. Her life centered about Yatharth when he was home. ANd when he wasn't her life was thrown off the orbit. It was true she tried hard to discipline herself. She kept her house clean and cooked good dinner. But if Yatharth was not coming home, she did not care to make the bed, cooked once a day, ate leftovers withour reheating them, had cereals for breakfast, lunch and even dinner.

But life had changed had it not. She had found a new path to orbit. Swapnil had tiptoed with too much of hope. Hope for days filled with storytimes, talk times, feeding the baby. She was so thrilled these days that she cooked meals in time. Ate a hearty breakfast and gave up coffee for milk.

She looked at the watch, it was just lunch time. Solitary luncheon, she murmured. But they will all be together in dinner time she told Swapnil, when she retired after lunch for a little nap.

In her dreams, she saw Yatharth smiling on the door. She saw Amma holding Swapnil...

Sipping Coffee

Coffee has always elevated my mood. Don't know why, really. But today seems a rather nice day. It is sunny outside and cool indoors. With love songs in the back ground, a hot cup of coffee and some lemon rice, I wonder what else did I want from life. Yes, I feel a tinge of jealousy when I see friends talking of office work and bosses and even Linus rushing off to office. But then I see what I have got to myself. A whole day to pamper myself. I wonder why I really don't do that. I skip lunch frequently just because I will have to cook for me. Hmm, the good thing is I can laze around in a pair of shorts without MOM getting on my neck with 2 things, make yourself useful- your room is a mess, if it isn't then some other room is...do a favor go help me it will be Diwali time soon and weekends at home are rare...go on a bit of cleaning spree. If I comply without complaining, she will tell me next.. first get dressed while looking skeptically at my bermudas which fall just an inch short to my knees.

Hmm..how much I miss mom, when I go back to sleep after Linus is off to office. Yes, I do not fall asleep but just wait for mom's ... lazybone get up.... I miss it soo much.. :) All moms have to be great. Mine is. And all kids must love their moms like crazy... Despite all things that kids need to put up with mom type of people... you know eat right...and come home in time... and on and on and on...

Well, well, well...how much I miss being a kid. My birthday is coming again. Yeah, my friends would remember after I remind them... with it is in april isnt it...and this conversation will be in late may or june or hell july...

Just for the heck... 22nd of April is the date...

And and and, just because I am soo happy with the Gung Ho song playing in the background and the Nescafe... let me tell you .. i am gonna be in Locarno-Lugano for birthday.. So glad to have bday on a weekend... :P

Hmm, this post almost is coming close to an email of sorts... argh, may be I dont mail people so much these days that I have decided broadcasting! well, blogging in a friendly world can't be that bad. And when this mood to keep your slender fingers busy on the keyboard comes one must give in. Ah, again I miss mom , the way she looks with awe at only one thing i can do better than her...type at an astronomical speed... (the speed is astronomical in relation with hers :D)

So so so.. I should stop, and go out ... its a fine day... And I am smiling to myself. Good music, good coffee and a bright day, few things in life just so simple yet so much of pleasure..

Hmmm, by the way before I stop writing, let me tell you about this brain wave that came last night.. I had started this blog just as an outlet of expression. And well somewhere I thought I could see myself...the brand called me. So, now what I think is people who visit my website and do not really know me, they must have some kind of image about this brand..VID... you might feel free to put down what you think this brand is like...I might actually give a next post on brand identity.. something from our brand management class if it sounds interesting..

And if someone wants me to sketch a brand profile for them.. You could leave your page URL and I could go hang around and give a feed back!

What say you.. enough for today!

cheers

:)

While blog hunting

My time pass these days is extensive blog hopping. I hunt and I hop! Yesterday I found this wonderful advertisement blog, http://creativeads.blogspot.com

They talk about brands and I simply love talking about brands. They have this interesting thing they call ' ad trivia' where they ask you to identify the brand they are talking about. Yesterday I identified the brand and did it correctly and among the many correct answers I was picked the lucky winner.

It made my day today, when my friend visited that page, saw my name and then mailed me about it! Hmm, just like that I thought I would tell you all about it. YOu can see it here

:)

Meanwhile... (not the continuation of story)

It is gentle breeze, that takes adrift my heart. Outside under the starlit sky, I pull a chair and stare at far away lights. Like someone once told me, this is that time, when I fly beyond the mounts flickering with lights, beyond the lake which ruffles with few strong waves, I fly beyond myself.

It is strange that I should take this flight. Where do I reach. To you, who do not exist. Why did I ever conjure you, ever thought you could by chance be alive, be true? I wonder if you were, what would you be, how would you look like.

The stillness of night, punctuated by the sounds of cars racing in periodic interval has cast its silence on me. The prattle dies, the eyes do not blink and I continue to stare at the lamp post in the foyeur.

I learn, not to complain, not to worry that I am here without you. I learn I am destined to wait. Not because you will not come. But because this is how it is to be. This is how we can be together, this is how we can belong, this is how we connect.

Now, for the sake of you, do I tell the world who you are. Or like you want, I return to my world without any crease on my forehead..

I will try to find whats 'within' some other time. Will try to understand 'self' some other time. Will reflect on 'spirit' some other time. For now I am glad I am aware, that I am.

Bang! the coconut

Reena hated to call up Yatharth while he was in office. Somewhere, she had drawn a boundary between work and home. For Reena it was like, she were at office. But today she decided it was best to call him up. Yatharth would return the next week from his UK trip. And Amma's growing concern for have you been eating right, and 'coconut nahi khaya beta' had consequently filled the fridge with skimmed milk, flavored yogurts, strawberries, kiwis, oranges and a coconut.

She wondered how to break this one open. She took the wine opener and dug the needle into one of the three eyes of the nut. Hard nut to crack! But after some minutes of patience and perspiration she was successful. Coconut water sprouted, and she drained it in a glass. It was nothing like the dhaab water, that she had been raised upon back home in Calcutta (now Kolkata). But it would do and she gulped down the semi transparent liquid in one breath.

Later when she went to an Indian shop which sold, 'garam masala' and 'papad' she asked the lady behind the counter if she could break the coconut. Reena offered to come another day to collect the nut! The lady behind the counter must have considered a real nut. She came outside and hit the coconut on a pole. Bang! and it broke into two. Reena was happy like a child. Even bought some masalas she did not need. With her bag filled with basmati rice, toor daal, sambhar masala and dhaniya powder, she perched the coconut on top.

Like when you start a new venture, be it marriage or an inauguration of a new shop, or birth, she had always seen her father break the coconut before the deity. Today it felt auspicious somehow, when the coconut broke into two on the pole outside the shop.

She wanted to narrate the whole nutty affair to Yatharth. Sometimes it is so hard to contain few things to yourself. You just need to talk in one breath, and then laugh or giggle. These were few things that Reena had come to value. It was rare for her to talk to someone in her own tongue. She dialled Yatharth.

'Sweets!"

'Yes, everything is fine?' Her phone calls in office were out of ordinary.

'yeps, I just bought a coconut, and used the wine opener and drained its water, and took it to the Indian shop and the lady....

'Honey, I am in a meeting right now. We will talk later ok? I will call you once I reach the hotel."

Reena hung up. And felt silly. What was there to tell him really, a coconut... how she had managed to break it. And that she was still wondering how to scrape the white flesh out of it. Was just all this that defined her life, frozen peas and coconuts! Her eyes began to sting as tears welled up.

She curled up in sofa like a little kid. And then few minutes later she was crying and home sick.

Writer Speaks:

Dear Readers,

Thanks a tonne for your interest in the story of Yatharth and Reena. I really had no intention of writing a story in this line, of a young couple. But then thanks to all of you, who kept coming and asking for more, this story is taking a shape. I hope to take it further.

Well, I think this post should qualm all fears and worries about my well being! Please bear in my mind, all characters are fictitious ;)

Yes, it is true that I tend to hide behind characters and write my story. This time it had been Yatharth when I was poring my emotions. Suddenly aimless, shaky and unbalanced... I wrote about Yatharth wondering what he needed from life. However, now the story is taking shape and I am out of that mood swing, I will try to develop Yatharth's character too.

I was just wondering, where in the world should this couple be living? It has been obvious by now that they are not in India. Swiss would be the most convenient location, since I know this place now. I can talk about Reena going to Migros for groceries. Describe a few places, like the beaches by the lake... like it is daylight till 8pm... like the sight of Rocher De Naye from the balcony... or may be the nuances of daily life other than groceries ;) Buying tickets at the train station. Downloading hindi movies, looking frantically for recipes in the internet. And Amma calling!

So, I settle for Swiss, and by the lake... So it will be in the Lake Geneva region. It could be Vevey-Montreux where I am currently living or Geneva or Laussane. And where does Amma live? Hmm.. India or Nepal? Nepal where my mom actually is. Hmm and where is Reena's sasurbadi or sasural?? Kolkata...hmmm I will make it Mumbai, direct flight to Geneva. And so mother in law can visit Reena during 'these times'.

Hmm, and who should these two be? Bengalis, Gujjus....

I wonder if I will be needing specifics to these levels...

Currently the next thread in mind, is about Reena calling up Yatharth, worried how to break open the coconut she just bought!

Friends keep coming, put in your thoughts sometime. It is lovely!

Vid

Amma Calls

Amma has this strange habit of speaking so loud when it is a long distance call, Reena recalled. When she was a kid, she wondered why Amma would repeat, hello hello hello whenever she was talking to their relatives living in America. Amma would often pepper her Hindi with few words of English thrown in here and there. She would say, "aur weather kaisa hey?" "bachho kee education kaisee chal rahi hey?", stressing on 'weather' and 'education' while inquiring about both.

Amma still has this habit, Reena smiled as she heard Amma say Hello Hello Hello, in one breath when she picked up the phone. "Yes Amma", she chimed. And Amma asked her about the weather, and she asked after Yatharth. " He should not go out for that long", she complained to Reena. " It is okay Amma, I don't feel lonely, really." " Sacchi (Honestly) ? But you never would eat your meals alone, without someone by your side.... "I switch the TV on Amma, and it is like a room filled with people" And Amma laughed.

"Aur bolo (tell me what's new)". Reena wondered had Amma already guessed, there was something new after all. New beyond the high rises, beyond the places she had visited, the malls, the currency exchange and how costly even dhaniya patti (corriander) leaves were.

"Amma", we are going to be a family soon. And then she burst into tears. "Reena, beta (child) arrey yeh toh wonderful news hey (this is a wonderful news), she said stressing on wonderful.

Reena laughed, her mom had picked another new word of English. Then Amma was all over giving her advices, telling her that she will come over after a few months. Till then Reena was to eat well. Healthy food. No more pizza, or the baby will stick in your tummy with all that cheese and refuse to buzz when it is time, she jested. And beta, have lots of white food, and you will have a gora gora chora ( fair son). Hmmm, why not gori gori chori (fair daughter??), Reena grumbled.

But Amma was not listening, she was listing out food items Reena should eat " teen baar doodh, skip nahi karna beta" ( milk thrice a day, and don't skip it child), and eat chhena (cottage cheese made out of fresh milk at home by adding lemon juice to hot milk and straining the curdled mass), and lot of yogurt and chitki (coconut). If you have the white part of the coconut, you will have a fair child, that's what they say, Amma sighed. Reena was not very fair, and Amma always blamed herself for not eating white things when she was carrying Reena.

Yes Amma will do, Reena said. And then in a while she hung up. There was a list to make while going for grocery today. She took out her pad from the drawer beneath the telephone table and jotted down..

coconut
milk
yogurt (nature)
milk chococate
...
...

And Swapnil tip toes

As she reached the end of the story, she put away the book. Jhumpa Lahiri, why does she not write merry tales, she sighed. She loved Lahiri's prose. In fact she would often go back to the short stories- Interpreter of maladies. What made her read them again, was the details that gave life to each character. Like in the story, Temporary Matter, when she describes Shoba.....

'She'd come from the gym. Her cranberry lipstick was visible only on the outer reaches of her mouth, and her eyeliner had left charcoal patches beneath her lower lashes.'

That is some description she thought. The color of the lipstick. Visible at the outer reaches of the mouth... like so often after a day's work. It gave life to Shoba, this woman back from work and then to gym and then back home.

There was more she had liked, the description of food and cooking itself.

Shukumar gathered onion skins in his hands and let them drop into the garbage pail, on top of the ribbons of fat he'd trimmed from the lamb. He ran the water in the sink, soaking the knife and the cutting board, and rubbed a lemon half along his fingertips to get rid of the garlic smell, a trick he'd elarned from Shoba.

It was all so nice to read, how Shoba would unclip her hair, pry in the kitchen without untying her sneakers. How wonderfully Lahiri brings out reality in fiction, Reena smiled.

But she had not liked reading this story today. She had put the book away with her brows knit in a strange expression. This story was about a failing marriage. About the birth of a dead baby, and how the parents then slipped away from one another.

Reena gently touched her tummy. It was still flat. She had not suspicious when she skipped her menses last month. But her gynacologist had whom she visited yesterday, confirmed that she had concieved. That was a tremendous news, she realized why babies where called a 'bundle of joy'. She felt a lump in her throat, she could just not speak. But she was beaming with joy.

She did not want to tell Yatharth this news over the telephone. Yatharth had gone on his office tour for a month. She would patiently wait, she decided. And then she wondered if they would have a baby boy or a baby girl. She remembered how Yatharth and she had once talked about babies and both shrieked... no way, we are too young to be parents!! And still they had started to talk about names. I will call her Samragyi, the empress, Reena had said. Yatharth laughed and said, she would become Sami to her friends and our parents would never get her name straight, so be ready for " Somu or Somi".. And if we have a boy, but no we will have a girl first, Reena chirped. Ah! do you want an army, Yatharth had laughed heartily. And then he said, we will have a boy, only child. Our dream. He will be ' Swapnil'.

Reena already was talking to Swapnil and telling him that she knew he had tip toed!

Reena Speaks!

Mornings are meant to be lazy. The early sun rays playfully disrupted Reena's sleep. She woke up. Hmm.. it's Friday today!!

She was now sharing a life with Yathartha. The days he went to work, were like days she went to work... and his Friday was like her Friday, what a thought , she exclaimed.

Yathartha was so true to his name. He was real, he was reality. He was no dream she was chasing in idle hours. He was no knight in white horse, he was who he was and she knew he loved her.

She rushed through the morning chores, went in kitchen and fixed his breakfast!! Ah, she forgot to peel almonds today, she realized after he had gone to work. It hadn't been a great start, she realized, she had broken one plate today. The smashed pieces were still lying on the kitchen floor. The clothes out from the dryer were still unfolded, the bed undone, the dishes of morning breakfast still dirty in the sink. She wasn't the Reena she thought she was. She would become soon though, after an hour or two. A few hours of her own, when she could be just her, with no responsibilities, when she could sit down and watch a movie that Yathartha wouldn't anycase, paint a picture, think about little children, and think about what she really wanted from life...

It was time for breakfast, she got up from her contemplative mood. Slowly she went about cleaning her house. Before evening, both she and the house would look welcoming. They had to! Because then he would come home.

She had pinned the poem she had written yesterday with a magnet on the fridge, this morning. I have read this before, Yathartha said. Yeah, it is similar, or well similarly written... in the same pattern... But that was not for you.. this one is...

Yathartha read the poem again..

The door bell rings..
I run and comb my hair
He's home now
After a day's work
I wonder how to please him


The kettle waits to sing tea time
I forget he doesnt like 'chai'
He holds me strongly in his arms
Lemme go, I will get something to eat

In kitchen
I lovingly cook
He eats with joy
No words are exchanged

Hmmm?? did you say anything!
nah.. it is good

what is?
everything

and he closes his eyes

ah...dont do that
why?
cause then it will spill out
what?
love!
love that you have gathered all in your eyes

Yathartha smiles and takes her in his arms . Ouch! you are squeezing me... And then they both remember, it isn't weekend yet. And they both rush, the plate gets broken, both are slightly angry... but then that's why goodbye kisses are meant to be! And the magic of the kiss lasts the day long!!!

Yatharth, the hero

She kissed him on his lips, said goodbye and closed the door. Her day now began all over again after the early morning. There was no need to hurry about anything. She could have her breakfast now, an hour later or altogether skip it if she wanted.

Yatharth smiled as he pictured Reena and her day. He started the car and another day had begun for him.

He told himself that he would give himself a good hearing this weekend or the next definitely. He knew he was still unsettled, the idea of climbing mountains and diving in the lake seemed quite heroic at that moment. But how feasible was it, he chuckled. He could not share these whims with anyone. They would all tell him he was insane. What else does a man need to be happy!

'jaane kyaa chaahey man baawara, aakhiyan mere sawan chala", he stopped the song playing in the cd player of his car. What was it? Why did he feel he was stuck. Like life suddenly was thrown out of gear. There was a new vista that he had now. But perhaps he was such who could not enjoy happiness. He felt a sudden urge to strike his head on the steering wheel. The urge passed. He had reached his office.

With the mundane work, the cappucino and his dozing colleague on the chair next to him, he continued through the day.

It was during the evening before he left his desk, that he had time to think again about himself. Perhaps he was not as strong as he thought he were, perhaps he was not a hero that he thought himself to be, perhaps he excelled in tough situations like in past. He shook his head at such depressing thoughts.

Suddenly he thought... what if he fell in love all over again! A passionate love affair, may be with Picasso's paintings or with gardening or with his wife Reema. Yatharth, stopped his ride through imagination and walked up to his car. The day was done!

The night after...

He woke up. It was a beautiful morning. He stretched his arms and Reena rolled into them. He smiled tenderly. 'Go out for a jog', Reena said. She busied herself then in fixing breakfast and other mundane tasks.

He jogged for an hour by the lake. Looked at the snow capped mountains . Breathed in the crisp air. And then he realized what it was that he wanted. What was raw and what was deep. He wanted to scale the mountain. He wanted to dive in the water. He wanted challanges, he wanted to prove himself by overcoming them. What's there in complacency. It is no good to think that you have it all, that your world is too perfect and idle around. He was not a weak man that he could not enjoy what he had. He was strong, stronger than the rest. He wanted his muscled arms to sweat, he wanted to feel the strong sun, he wanted to reach newer heights.

It is foolish to think that you have it all and more foolish to crib about it! He came back home. Greeted Reena with a smile, and wondered what went inside this woman's heart. With a routined life of breakfasts and lunches and dinners, and linen and upholstery and silverwares, did she not seek a life beyond. A life of one's own. Of challanges that one sets for oneself. Of dreams that one chases.

He just wondered, and thought he'd find it out some day.

In a cold night

He stood outside in his balcony. The wind was cold. It blew his thin shirt. He stared at the lights beyond the lake. Like the night, he felt empty.

After an eventful day he thought he deserved more than this nagging feeling- feeling vacant. It was like there was nothing in life that held a meaning to him. He had everything that he would have hoped for. A wonderful house by the lake, a wife who cooked lovely food and who was a delight at night. Yet, what was it, he strained hard.

He had a big urge to light his ciggaratte. Only if Reena had not asked him 'honey, don't smoke at home'. He suddenly felt angry. It was his god damn house, his god damn cigarette and why did that god damn woman had to object. He smiled at himself at how he had referred to her... a woman! Was she just a woman? Oh, yes he did love her. He did shower her with flowers that she loved. And heart shaped mugs, pillows, pendents... Argh, not that he cared much for any of it. It was just nice to see her smile. That was all. That smile. But did he not need more. More than that smile. Something deeper and more raw. He laughed this time, deeper and raw, what did he really mean. Perhaps, he was thinking crazy, just because he had every thing he had wished for.

What had he wished for really? May be he got everything without wishing at all. He was a man with simple means, and today he was doing well. He was not someone women adored, yet he had a lovely wife today. What else does a man need? A ciggarette, may be.

He did not know what to do. Reena called him, Sweets, it is cold outside, get in or you will catch cold. He got in. He slumped on the sofa , switched the tv on and let it fill his emptiness with sounds coming from it.

He was hoping that he would fall asleep on the sofa. Not having to go near Reena. He did not want to touch her. He felt like he was actually using her. He was sorry for her. He was sorry for himself. He wondered what had happened to him.

Someone had once said, if it's too beautiful, it can't be real. Perhaps his world was not real. Or did he pretend it to be too beautiful. He felt a sudden disgust for the lake, for his house by the lake, for Reena who kept humming while she made his bed, and for himself.

He went out in the balcony and lighted his cigarette.

Apron Vs Wings

Take the apron on, and put on your wings!

Hmm, I am thrilled with the thought. JB has sold his idea well!! Beyond these mounts that I see from my balcony, he tells me to go on a flight. But where I wonder. Snugly fit in this small world of mine, with kitchen and apron, laundry and grocery, cooking and cleaning, perhaps I have lost the desire to fly. Is it? Perhaps I am too scared to leave this little nest.

I think again. But fly where ... but fly how...

I will think.. I hope I will...

Meanwhile, been reading a bit about Bapu. After Lage Raho Munna bhai, I have this constant yearning to read his biography...

Got this link, thought would share with my readers..

Sevagram

Oh Hum Dum... dara dam dam

Snowy Morning!

Linus opens the door of my room. I open my eyes.

So been awake for long?
No! just a while ago. Not sleeping soundly any case.
Ah... get up now, it is a lovely morning.
Naaah... feel cold and sleepy.
Ok, I will fix my breakfast then.

Dam dara dam , mast mast...
Oh, hum dum bin terey kya jeena..

I am lying on the bed while I hear the song, Linus just played on his notebook.

I get up in a while, fix a small tiffin for him, which he can take to work. After a long while, I am back to kitchen .

Last night, I was telling him, I am fed up of being ill... Skin on my face has been infected by some bacteria.... streppococcus or sth... Recovering from chickenpox and there comes bacteria on virus... argh... And I say aloud, if I ever get any chronic illness, I would give up and hope to ...

Hmmm... and before he is off to office, he says - I really liked that song... I played it twice. Dedicate it to you...

Hmm...the song is on repeat loop now....

I will get well soon... I know!

Snow fall

It was snowing today!

Hmm... go take a walk dear, Linus tells me. I look at him and wink, are you driving me out of the house! He says, No I want to see you walk in the snow.

I struggle with my jacket, he lends me a hand. I tie my shoelaces - can I get some water please. He hands me a glass of water. Tells me not to forget my umbrella. And off I go...

Outside the building, I look up if he is looking out of the balcony... I do not see him, disappointed, I walk on... I look at the snow.. Oh my God... snow.. little white flakes.. like someone was emptying the pillows made of soft cotton flakes...

I walk out to the street, I see him waving at me...

Sweets, there has not been a better expression of love than this.... to ask me to walk in the snow... so that you can see my delight... so that you can feel me taking the fresh air...

I walk on. I look at the cars parked at the street. I touch the snow that has covered one of them. Oh, it is snow!

How many names they must have for snow in Eskimo language.... I come home and ask, what should I call you Sweets?

:-)

First walk in the snow! Awesome!!!

Taking Stock

Hmm, few nights ago, when Linus was reading my blog, I asked , would you read it had I not written it? He did not have to answer, he just smiled. No, he would not read it!

So, I started to wonder, why would anyone read my blog. Friends could come once in a while, see what is going on with that 'laugh it out loud' kid. Hmm, after all what is there that I am offering... a tit bit of daily life, expressing few irrelevant details, and well what else?

While I wonder, I realize that there is really nothing substantial on offer- nothing on humor, nothing at all on branding or marketing or good/bad customer expereinces (something I could do well in writing), no remarkable anecdotes, but just a ramble.... Perhaps, because I no more write a diary, or no more put in effort to write an article that i would send to the newspapers. Ah, it all needs discipline. hmm...

Well, it needs more, a flare, creativity... and feeling the low i am feeling currently... I do one thing to stop myself to get into the pit of self pity! I write a threatening message to an 'ardent' reader (ok ok ok, just a reader!)--- hey, why the heck do you read my posts, to see how pathetic writings could be... or you got too much time on you (he he he ), any case, gimme a reason why i should keep writing.... i am shutting off....

Hmm.. and comes a generous reply!
i read it, it's interesting


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Thanks.... my ego is now in seventh heaven... Huh, don't I try just one more post, so that those of you who read, don't go disapointed when you visit me...

:)

hope the enthusiasm reaches newer heights..

vid

He

Hmm... so what do you think a man is ? Over a past pav bhaji conversation (or may be pre pav bhaji) this question pops up..

It reminds me of Kathmandu, a restaurant where I was sipping coffee with an 18 year old boy. Young enough to be my brother, and almost, he was Annie's. Over coffee and some ciggi smoke, he asks, so Vid, tell me , describe your man.

It is tricky- I have this not really nice man who comes up immediately (that time in KTM), he has a ciggarette between his fingers, his ears are plugged with sounds coming from his mp3 player, he opens his mouth to word the lyrics that he is listening to, gives sly and long looks to good looking women, and shuts off his system after several hours of gruesome work to get a fresh air and jogs for an hour.

Then, I switch the image, there is a well groomed fellow- with his tie in place, he just shaved this morning, his aftershave is just too irresistible. Too irritatingly good, annie would have commented... then I take a puff and agree with Alok, this goodie guy is someone I would have a family with...and that baddie an affair... we guffaw.... (Alok , my coffee companion)

Hmmm, it is a year since that time. There have been several coffee times, few newer faces, but one constant coffee companion- who i better refrain from describing (he peeps in too often, and I just cant call him sexy out here..he he )... and well after a long time..of no more conjuring a man up.. no more building stories.. no more looking for COLORs, there pops the question again...
and JB asks, why is your man a baddie, fuelled by the description of my one time story (a date with Annie) where I write as a man... and my description of the man is not really a baddy, except he has ordered beer....

So, JB sets to argue, you think a man is always with beer and ciggi and... and and ...

I smile.... Is there anything to say? The man has gone and hid... I am waiting and wanting his return...

So that I can write!

Clear Skies

It is winter, yet not cold!

I listen to weather reports in CNN with interest. This is particularly bad news for Switzerland, that there is little snow.

The wintertime tourism is going to take a hit. No, no skii this weekend, Rima tells me, as she pours veggies and rice for me on a plate. Ski resorts must be resorting to some false snow. But is that helping.

It seems like not long ago, I would be given a topic by teacher at high school to write an essday on global warming.

And with the wink of eyes, here I am in the Alpine region, witnessing the global warming.

Hmm.... the sky is clear today, it is almost 5pm, yet it is still bright outside...

Recovering from chicken pox and at least reclaiming my appetite!

more later...
vid

Chicken Pox & Story time

Hmm...

These days things are different at Mohta House, Switzerland. My hubby can now be seen sporting the new apron -which my sister brought for ME- and bustling in the kitchen.

Sunil and KITCHEN, his friends exclaim! hmmm, and why have I decided to call him finally by his good name? Ok ok, Linus... Linus looks so damn cute in his white t shirt, blue levis and the apron. He is cooking a nick nack, fixing his own breakfast, snack... heating milk for me, forcing me to eat, while I sleep like a lazy old bone...

You call this CHicken pox....

Hmm, how I hate to fall sick, I tell him for the umpteenth time.

Switzerland seems to be a destination which will have taught us both so many things. Togetherness like it never was. Its almost honeymoon through out . And taking care of one another, managing our house, doing the households, waiting for him to come back, sorting our once in a while tiffs. giving each other huge bear hugs whenever you feel like..............and here comes CHICKEN POX..

hmmmm.... more later....time for me to go rest...

will be running temperature again in the evening as usual, and give pain to Linus as I fuss over eating...

(how I have come to love him like.... he hehe)..

now u might tell me, such personal things are a no no in what started as a marketing blog... but CHICKEN POX...so allow me..

and send me e flowers and love..

ahem ahem

vid

Story time coming up!!

After a long time again, I want to write...

This is the same kind of mood, when I would write long emails. So, well lets get started!
So, should I talk about last evening when we had Pav Bhaji, a foursome! Reminded me of many a pav bhaji sessionsthat we had 6 of us, in Kathmandu. Its been so long, the college days are over, and so have each of us in the gang,been gone!

Before I begin to reminisce, let me get back to today!
Today, is no special day, not unique in any way... yet it is a day I live... it is a day I will have lived.I continue with the day in the ordinary manner, wake up, fix breakfast for Linus, kiss him good bye. And after he has left, the day begins on my own, a day of cleaning, of showering, of getting around the house... And in these irrelevant details of life, I listen to R.D Burman- one particular song that I listen with intent is- Kabhi kabhi yeh sapna lagta hey...

Perhaps it indeed is a dream, to be staying in leisure in this beautiful setting! Linus looks at the landscape, and says it looks like a painting they have put up there. In deed so many times, I feellike one of the sketches that my sister used to paint when she was a child, has become real. Or have I stepped into one of her paintings. It is a rare moment in life: that I am not worried, there are no homeworks, no project works, no deadlines, no nothing.... Living on my own.... being a housewife seems to be such a luxurious thing. I wonder why I really hatedto be one..

If housewife were a profession, it would be a wonderfully paid job. And then probably respected too. Why do we not really respect housewives? No no, let me not digress again. But let me add one point- I reminsce the story of the Doll House, written by Isben- house wife is again an extended life of a well protected kid. Hmmm.. kabhi kabhi yeh sab apna lagta hey, tum samjha do mann ko kya samjhaaoo!

Hmm, this song I am listening was recommended by JB last night. Last night as I was telling you, we had a pav bhaaji jamming. It was fun. In fact, it was slightly inspirational- one that I can make a living out of a pav bhaaji stall if need be (kidding !!), JB told me that he had read my blogs, OMG, so people do read my blogs...

I have a set of visitors that I expect will turn up. My friends. And sometimes there are people who I do not know, who will come and read. I really don't know what purpose will my blog serve to be. Once upon a time, I had intended it to be a marketing (branding) student's platform . I talked of branding... and majorly of customer centricism.

Now, it has become (or reduced to) a personal blabber.. I wonder what point could I be making.
I can understand, Linus has one reason to read it... He likes to see that I write. Last night before we went to sleep, I had told him, I cannot write anymore, I just do not know how to... and he gave me one look, and said of course, I can write..

So, well... there is a story begining to germinate in my mind... It will be an adaptation, or rather say inspired by last night's conversations among friends!

So, is it story time again?

New Year

Ah! comes here a new year!!!

A few thoughts:

*New year, new thoughts... will this year have few less of " I would like to" and a few more of " I did it".

*This new year and the rest of the years, I will not be scared of being in love.

*A few more lovely walks along the lake with Linus.

* Few more new recipes.

* Few more hours that I put in effort to write down my thoughts.

* Few stories that I can spin out of lives of other people.

* Some more time that I will find out to write long mails to Annie..

* Few times that I can easily give up temptations for choclates.

* Few more hours to put into books that I want to read.

* And I hope there will be few days, when I will visit mom and dad back home.

:-)