Dark Clouds, Disappear!

 The air is heavy, dense monsoon clouds hang in the sky, ready for the piercing rain to burst through. The mind is heavy with lots of thoughts too. It all feels so ominous sitting in an Uber on my way back from work. 1.5 hours of travel gives you a lot of time to introspect. New city, new job, old friends, life is good and there should be no cause to feel otherwise. 

But happiness tops the list of all things elusive. Counting our blessings does not come easily to humans. The grass is always greener on the other side. May not be jealousy always, but any materialistic purchase made by peers does induce a bit of guilt and pressure. Its a known fact how social media has only added fuel to the flame, but perfection is what we all have set out to achieve. Perfect bodies, outfits, homes, holidays, kids. Even if you are not guilt trapped by these, how many of us can say we are truly happy?

Relationships are hard - spouse, parents, siblings, kids - our happiness is intertwined with theirs. Someone says or does something which does not go down well with us, and we fall into an abyss of melancholy. Why do we forget they are all individuals in their own right, and their idea of happiness may be very different to ours. 

Nirvana is passe, Ikigai is the buzzword. We hear of Nordic countries ranking highest on the happiness index, and cannot really fathom the real reason: is it because they have better social security, or fully paid childcare leaves. Japanese secret to a long life is said to be a 'purpose' to which you devote yourself wholeheartedly. Maybe relocating to a 'developed' country will bring more joy. Or maybe we are just not getting the message.

As I age, my introspection leads me to believe, finding happiness within is the essence of life.  Philosophers and yogis have chased the idea for eons, but saying it is one thing, achieving it is another. As social beings, we are affected by events and people. A microscopic virus brought the whole world to its feet for 2 years, and we are slowly finding our ground again. Times are tough and will continue to be so. At the end of the day, we have but one life, the narrative is ours to write. 

Looking for small pleasures, breaking the routine, helps me.  Not picking up the phone for an hour seems like a victory. A good night's sleep is a premium. Visiting a new place is a bonus. Picking up a new hobby can be a life saver. Baking / eating a cake always helps.

What rocks your boat

 When did u last eat? Maybe just a couple of hours earlier. Chances are you weren’t ravenously hungry, but it was mealtime, so you had your food.

For the past two years, we haven’t gone out much, have not socialized or hung out with friends, but we had some time at home after what seemed eons of rushing through mad traffic commuting to and fro from work; and we have enjoyed this leisure, eaten to our hearts and eyes’ content, spending much of the lockdown cooking elaborate meals and feasting on them. Banana bread became a rage on social media, and even amateurs starting churning out perfect curries and desserts.

Kids were cooped up indoors, birthday’s were happening online, and cakes were mostly homemade, some less adept ‘bakers’ resorting to Oreo or Parle G cakes as saviours.

We found solace in food.

Lockdown started, and it was customary to watch the news hawk eyed to know the developments and announcements, cancel travel plans, make more video calls to keep in touch with friends and family.

Amidst all the personal heartbreaks we all suffered due to all social engagements getting cancelled, we were still employed and able to put food on the table, not having to cut corners, while witnessing  some less fortunate people losing their livelihood, having no assurance of where the next meal was coming from, setting out with their meagre belongings, on arduous journeys in order to reach their villages and hometowns, in search of work to earn a living. Some were bundled into buses by some good Samaritans and sent on their travels.

The haunting pictures of migrants walking for days in the scorching heat, with just a packet of Parle G biscuits and a bottle of water, 3 kids in tow with a starving mother, was enough to send shivers down our spines. It really put things in perspective for me. How privileged we are, even though we may not be business tycoons or some media mogul, we had more than enough of everything – clothes, shelter and food, the basic necessities to keep a person alive. We were afraid of catching Covid so we ordered everything online, concerned about how lockdown was affecting our physical and mental health, how we weren’t exercising enough, whilst the less fortunate said “If Covid does not kill us, hunger will”.

Hunger is one of the raw human emotions, if you fast for a day with only water, after 5-6 hours you end up with a splitting headache and a growling belly. People have been known to kill for hunger. We know that we evolved from a hunter gatherer lifestyle, when we ate only if we foraged or killed, and the little food that was found and shared within a community was enough for sustenance. Ayurveda says we should not eat after sunset, and keep our stomach only half full for proper digestion. But we have become slaves to the vice of gluttony, we stuff ourselves till we get sick.

Think about the aspect of the food industry, of Instagram worthy shots of delectable food and drink, of the excess food cooked and left over, and wasted, at homes and restaurants. Sentiments about food are very strong and polarizing. We feed animals on the road but hesitate to hand out food to anyone begging on the streets, so it requires a more planned approach to mobilise something to stop food wastage.  Organisations like the Robinhood Army are trying to collect the excess food from restaurants and donated by anyone interested and distributing it to the hungry. It takes a humungous effort, and I am inspired by those who are donating food or their precious time to reach out to the needy, and wish to contribute personally as well.

We can start with small steps like cooking smaller portions, not wasting leftovers, handing out excesses to those who need, teaching our kids to respect food and have a clean plate at the end of each meal. We are depleting the earth’s resources really fast, and turning to growing meat in a lab to satisfy out greed, so it is time to wake up and work towards better food habits.

The Butterfly Effect

  Little things have huge impacts.
 In the past few days, a couple of incidents led me to believe in this phenomenon.

    Death affects us in different ways. Some become very quiet and reclusive after the death of a dear one, whilst others cry copious tears and move on. My maternal grandfather passed away many years ago, but till today my mother seems inconsolable, a part of life’s joys seem to have dwindled for her. I am more reticent in this respect, but I do miss few people terribly, who are no longer with us.
A month back, I saw my parents off at the railway station after a short stay at my home. I was sad, no doubt, but went on with the day’s chores and came back to a quiet evening with family. Suddenly we received a message and my husband rushed to the next building – one of our neighbors had been found dead in his flat. It was a silent heart attack. He was alone, his wife had delivered a baby boy 2 months back and was at her maternal home. We hardly knew the couple, just saw or greeted each other at social functions held in the society. But the incident seemed to disturb us at the very core, we stayed up all night talking about the implications for the wife and child, who would have no memory of his father. His wife was a homemaker, were her finances taken care of, would she be able to pay off the home loan. We talked of his smoking habit; he looked fit for his age – was he stressed and never realized it, or was it the lack of exercise and lifestyle problems that afflict every second professional these days. An over analysis no doubt, but realization of our own mortality really gives us perspective. For the next few days we talked about how we should eat well, plan for emergencies, get preventive health checkups, do some good for the society, and the like. It was as if someone had jolted us awake from a  deep  slumber.

Whilst we were contemplating how to prepare for the inevitable, there were more pressing matters at hand.

The daycare center where I have been sending my daughter for the past 3 years was closing down due to some logistics issue, and we had been given notice of a month to shift our children elsewhere. It was unimaginable to lose a place we trusted blindly, and they cemented our trust with their small and large acts of  compassion for the child's needs.Initially we did not worry much about a replacement, as new centers had been sprouting left, right and center in the neighborhood. So after a relaxed couple of weeks, we began the actual hunt. There were few rejections initially, and lots of discussion on a few, but none seemed to fit the bill. We were mostly looking at places wanting to make a quick buck from the hapless parents – some were unhygienic, some cramped, some not providing meals, some providing all the facilities but lacking a personal approach. For an issue as sensitive as leaving your child with total strangers for the entire day, no one seemed to have thought of how they would earn the parents’ trust. Or maybe they knew they didn’t have to, their centers would still be full. It is heartbreaking to be separated from a bunch of people so selfless and caring, and we are feeling incapable of moving on.However, such is life and within a week we must look for a new daycare, our hopes pinned on the unknown.

A Walk in the woods

Childhood is like a charm that fades away gradually, leaving us pining for the things we did as children, or places we lived in. We long for the protected and sheltered life, when we did not have a care in the world. We as a generation are trying to bridge the gap between the competitive and technology crazy life we have today, and the childhood we had, devoid of gadgets and not so intensely complicated. May be we are both blessed and cursed. We have lived the good life so to say. Where we had the undivided attention from our families and led less hectic lives than today’s kids do.

But as Bob Dylan sang, “The Times They Are A-Changing”, and we feel kids today are missing out on so much. The thought is of course mutual, where they see us trying to get the hang of devices they so easily operate as toddlers. This is normal for them, because they have not seen anything different, and such is the story of every generation, the circle of life if you may call it so.

I grew up in a very pretty hill station in the 80’s, and life moved at a very comfortable pace. Except for school and office goers, no one seemed in any hurry. And we walked to school. My father walked to office, we walked to visit acquaintances, and we walked when we went shopping. We never had or felt the need to own a vehicle. Public transport was cheap and comfortable, so any occasional journey that could not be taken on foot would be in a public bus or a shared cab. On our way back from school, our mothers who came to pick us up would chat with their friends, and we would hop, skip and jump all the way with our classmates, giggling and plucking wild flowers and berries. When it would rain, and it rained a lot (as we were in the region with the heaviest rainfall in the world), we clamored under our little umbrellas and walked as fast as we could, but got drenched anyway. Sometimes we had to carry our school shoes in our bag to avoid them getting wet, and walk to school in slippers. Although it was difficult treading the mossy and slippery roads in the rain, it was utmost fun.

I could go on and on in my soliloquy; so let me pause here and mention that this is what I feel children of today miss – the walks. The walk and all the pleasures associated with it. They have the comfort of a car or two-wheeler to take them everywhere. They hardly see any scenery, or get drenched in the rain. They don’t go anywhere on their own, because of safety reasons. They become couch potatoes and gain unhealthy weight. They suffer from image issues and other complexes.

So is it really a better world they have inherited?

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Back to School

After a long hiatus, I have plunged back into the world of books, assignments and exams in order to pursue a post-graduate degree. Having got engrossed in 9 years of corporate life, it took me a while to figure out I really wanted to go for it. I have a 2.5 year old, so this was a very tough decision to make. I had always planned for this, but when I actually signed up for the course and paid the fees, I was at my wits end. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to study/ appear for exams, when I did not even have enough time to indulge in a long bath, with a demanding job and toddler in tow! It was a distance learning course, so thankfully I did not need to attend any classes, but it also meant that I had to do all the encouraging and motivating me, myself. It has been a year and I haven’t progressed as well as I expected to, but the experience has taught me a few things I can share for the benefit of people aspiring to go back to study after a gap:  

Opting for Distance learning instead of a full time course – I have been told that distance learning dilutes the essence of a degree or looks less valuable on your resume. But frankly, weigh your choices and decide what’s best for you. After a few years of work experience, you may have enough savings to quit your job to pursue a full time degree. But are your other financial responsibilities like EMI’s, school and daycare fees, annual investments, health or other exigencies, taken care of? Considering that women now are equal/almost equal/ larger (whichever applies to you) contributors to a household’s income, take stock of your financial health. Personally I did not want to let go of my paycheck and also added years in experience so I chose the distance learning option.

Which course/ specialization to choose – One may choose to sign up for a course in order to change their job description, while some may choose one that springboards them to the next level in their careers. I discussed a lot with my friends from different fields, and the feedback I received was that if you are going back to study after just a couple of years of work-ex, you may choose to learn something radically different from your current occupation. But once you have spent almost a decade in a particular sector, you should opt for something that adds value to what you are currently doing. This is because the next company that hires you will want you for the sum total of your experience/expertise, and not for something you claim to have learnt only through a 2 year academic course.

 How to plan study (slow and steady) – The aim for taking on a course is to learn something, but mostly it ends up being a cram and spit exercise to clear the examination. There are days when you have ample time and can study for longer hours and days when you cannot even spare a minute to look at your books, especially if you are working in parallel. I manage to study mostly on weekend mornings and evenings, with chores/outings/rest taking up most of the day. Weekdays are so full of travel/office work/household activity that I cannot spare any time to study. So on weekend mornings, I just try to revise what I learnt on that weekend. It obviously means I spend more time on a subject than estimated by the course, but the steady learning ensures that I have better chances of retaining the knowledge for a longer time. I choose to complete those subjects first with which I have some familiarity by virtue of my experience, that instils confidence and I can tick it off the assignment/ examination list quicker.

Balancing work, life and study – It would be unfair and unprofessional if you neglected your job because of the course you chose to enrol in. Also, your year-end appraisals would suffer. Your spouse/ children would also want your undivided attention and time, and spending quality time with them will help you relax and refresh. If you don’t indulge in a little ‘me-time’ or pursue your hobbies, you will feel drained out and exhausted. It is no doubt a tightrope walk, but a day spent with loads of activity and challenges is anytime better than a dull day. Years later, when the course is over and its benefits start coming through, it will bring a great sense of achievement.

There are just 24 hours in everyone’s day, but how one chooses to utilize them can make all the difference in the quality of life. Joining a post-graduate degree after a long gap has not only helped me get rid of the guilt of not studying further after my engineering course; it has infused a new zeal in me of seeing this through to the end, like any other successful project.

Signs

Let me begin by assuring all weak-hearted souls that this piece is not about the movie.

I am not sure what qualifies one as a feminist, but I believe that truth, however bitter, should be spoken and even uncomfortable questions need to be asked. This is about one of such questions - Why do married people (mostly women) need to wear some kind of sign indicating marital status? I will speak only in the Indian context, as social dynamics and values are a little different in other countries.

There is no doubt that a woman looks beautiful in her wedding finery, jewels and makeup. The red dot on her forehead, the bangles, anklets, toe rings and nose pins. The rituals also invoke a relationship for seven births, and are made complete by tying a sacred thread (thaali/mangalsutra) around the bride's neck in some communities, or by applying sindoor (vermilion) to the parting in her hair. Rings are also exchanged between the bride and the groom. While he may choose to excuse himself from wearing the ring claiming discomfort or simply personal preference, that would be blasphemy on the lady's part. For one, she would get chastised by her mother/ mother-in-law and other females relatives for not taking the signs seriously - "It will bring harm to your spouse if you do not apply sindoor/ wear mangalsutra. For most of us it is taken for granted that we wear these symbols of marital status. Obviously these are very old customs and I share Wikipedia’s take on the topics.

Quoting from Wikipedia page on Vermilion and Mangalsutra :

"The wiping off of the sindoor is very significant for a widow. There are many rituals associated with this practice. The most common being the mother-in-law or older sister-in-law wiping off the sindoor when the woman becomes a widow. The widow will break her bangles and remove her bindi as well. Many Hindu women will remove their nose ring and toe rings as well. The parting of hair is symbolic of river of red blood full of life. When the sindoor is removed then the river becomes barren, dry and empty. This custom is prevalent in rural areas and is followed by all castes and social ranks."

"According to Hindu cultural ethos, the mangala sutra symbolizes the inseparable bond between a husband and a wife. During the wedding ceremonies in southern parts of India, the bridegroom ties the mangala sutra to the neck of the bride uttering, “May you live long by wearing this sacred mangal sutra, the reason of my life”. Married women are led to wear a mangala sutra throughout their life as it is believed that the practice enhances the well-being of her husband and family. It is also believed that the mangala sutra protects the marriage from any evil. Three knots symbolize three different aspects of a married woman - the first knot represents her obedience to her husband, the second to his parents and the third represents her respect for God."

Most of us must have seen the movie Dor, where the young and vibrant Ayesha Takia is asked to wear indigo garbs as mandated by custom when she loses her husband, and made to lead an austere life, which she tries to forget from time to time by flouting some rules and listening to music, which she used to enjoy when her spouse was alive. For a man who is a widower, there are no such rules.

I am not opposed to these signs, neither am I a stickler for them. I follow what I like and discard what I don't. I just think that no well-meaning spouse ever wishes that any harm should come to the other, whether they wear their wedding ring or not. I just feel that this should not be an imposition but left for the individual to decide. And it also should not be a scale to judge someone's character. Just because one does not wear these talismans does not mean they consider their marriage unimportant. One may not be fond of jewelry; vermilion may cause an allergy to others. 

Many malpractices like Sati have resulted in misery of Indian women for generations. Widows banished to Varanasi by their families recently played Holi for the first time in their lives as color was forbidden for them; they could not even eat to their hearts' content once they had lost their husband and caregiver. Even the West is not free from rampant incidents of witch-hunting in ancient days. These illogical rituals are now less prevalent, although we do get to hear of isolated incidents.

To conclude, women have been meted out with injustice and unfair treatment from times immemorial. With our progressive outlook and educated family backgrounds, we may want to look back at traditions we follow blindly and allow mature people the freedom to choose what is best for them.

Shillong - My Home Forever

 It pains me like the loss of a dear one, as if someone left without an answer, never to come back again.I have traveled to many places, seen many beautiful towns, but that longing doesn't seem to leave me.My family is leaving Shillong, my hometown, this month, and even though I haven't lived there for the past 13 years,it has been a part of my life and conversation would always come back to it, like an old lover about whom I cannot stop speaking.
  What is it about the place that mesmerizes me so, and holds me back like a toddler tugging on to its mother's dress.Is being born there the only reason? - No, its got to be more.Of course everyone shares a special bond with their birthplace, but Shillong exudes much more warmth, so much that even those who lived there for a couple of years have fallen prey to its charms.And believe me it is true love, for even though the youthfulness and beauty of the city have long faded,and in its place the concrete and more botoxed facade is visible now, in the end, it is always more about the attitude than the looks.
  I am still not used to crowds, pollution and the busy life of the metropolis, I miss walking to school, the market and everywhere else.I miss beautiful flowers and incessant rains, when I walked to school in slippers and carried dry shoes in my schoolbag.I miss eating berries in spring and living without a fan in my house.I miss the wooden buses, the Chapel in every school,the rock music playing from neighbors' house on weekends, the community cleaning drives and the quintessential chicken chow.I miss the pine cones lying on the hill slopes,eating oranges sitting in the winter sun,the unique fruits and vegetables found only in hills.I miss wooden floors in my home,the tiny springs jutting out from rocks and the green moss on the corners of stairs.   Hills have a character of their own, and the people are different.Although it would be lying to deny that we did not face any tough times due to communal tension, curfews and the like,in the end there is a reason behind everything, a long history of exploitation.No country or city is averse to that.But I'd rather forget that.What I cannot forget is travelling the winding roads from Guwahati waiting for that cool fresh air to hit me on reaching Barapani.Of the surprise of seeing multiple new shops jutting out, brands pervading my tiny city, bamboo crafts interspersed with hip-hop casuals at Glory's Plaza.Those tweed clad ladies, and lads in leather jackets,those warm smiles emanating from kwai(betel) stained lips.Steaming momos, and chilly winds.
 What I have written may not make much sense to those who have never been to Shillong, but for those who know - I have never known (read loved) a city better, and never will.

Spell Check

  We all take some long rides to and from work, and if you are not driving, there are various ways to while away time. Listening to FM radio and surfing the internet are what most people do. But I have lost interest in FM once I moved to Pune as I do not like the RJ’s, the ones in Delhi had a much better sense of humour. Anyone who has heard Anant and Saurabh (Mausam-Mausi fame) will agree. Being primitive in some respects, I do not have Whatsapp and prefer to use my phone mostly for short chats with folks and close friends, so out goes the second option. Albeit I am not asleep, the rational conclusion is that I simply daydream on my journeys.

  Not entirely true. I have embarked on an interesting pastime, reading banners and signs above shops, and messages behind trucks or other commercial vehicles, restaurant menus, anything where the much revered English language is morphed to some alien tongue. Some are witty, some downright foolish and some are outrageously new additions to the dictionary. The best sign I have read behind a truck remains “Pi  le Rani, Iraq ka Paani “, spotted during a journey from Haridwar to Rishikesh on a cold December morning back in 2006.

   What is most interesting is the kind of spelling mistakes you come across on billboards and signs, and this is true in most parts of the country which rely more on local dialect than the Queen’s language. But what humor they induce into a dull day!! There was a time when my husband and I worked in the same organization in Noida, and took the same bus to commute to and from office. This was our stress buster during those journeys. Although the little ones have skipped my aging mind, the one epic mistake which still launches us into hysteric laughter, was on the signboard of an alcohol shop. They were selling “Child Beer” instead of the chilled variety, which most people would prefer. I wonder if paranoid parents launched an attack on the shop owners to save their children from seeing this advertising menace.

    Shop signs are very businesslike in other countries, and I bet there must be very few places in the world besides India where such variety in color, content and humor can be spotted. Imagine the dread when you find out you’ve been setting aside crores to invest in a “Raw House”. Whether these blunders are intentional or just mere oversight, remains a mystery. I cannot imagine how anyone would put up with a wrong spelling on their establishment’s signboard. It is sacrosanct. No doubt it provides some very good publicity to people like me, who hardly forget a shop where I spot something hilarious, like my next door property agents claiming to “Bye, Sell, Rent”. Got the joke, right?

Every few days a new eatery springs up in the neighborhood, and their menus get dropped at our doorstep. Take a minute to browse through them, and before you know, you are rolling on the floor, laughing. “Human” Style sauce might send shivers down the spine of anyone expecting Hunan sauce with their noodles, and poor “Mutton T Ghosh” might annoy the palate of hungry diners who ordered Mutton Rogan Josh.

Great artists are born of humble beginnings, like M F Hussain, who painted film posters before he became this art maestro we all know him as. Whether or not our signboard painters will have the same fortune is hard to tell. Indulge in this quirky game while you can, for soon you may be driving, and traffic may be the only thing you can watch out for.

Do we really need soaps?

       During my visits to my parents and in-laws in the past 2 years, I happened to notice that when tea was served in the evening, instead of the banter and conversation that we usually had earlier, now there was complete silence, broken only by the sound of sipping tea, or munching a biscuit. Crinkled eyes stared intently at the TV screen, emotions ran high and you could sense the tension in the atmosphere. Thanks to the great Indian dramas played out on the small screen, the daily soaps.

      As with all social media revolution, the home TV viewing scene also had its Big Bang in the past three decades, almost equivalent to the time we have been on the planet. So we, as a generation, have been fortunate(or otherwise) to be a part of this metamorphosis.What we knew as TV consisted of a single channel,and news was the dominant air-time owner.Most households did not have a TV set of their own, so often it meant a visit to the neighbors, where fathers would discuss politics, and mothers would talk about which news reader looked the most glamorous. Weekends would bring a few mythological serials, and children were supposed to learn about epics from those. We would watch with gaping mouths as Vikram chased Betaal,or the gods fought it out with their much specialized  arrows clashing in mid air, and the music reached its crescendo.Ramayan and Mahabharat became the cult TV serials, and such was their impact that people made obeisance to Nitish Bharadwaj when he appeared on the screen as Krishna.Humlog, Buniyaad,Yeh Jo hai Zindagi were the other serials depicting the common man's life, laughs and relationships.

      Come 90's and word spread that a new national channel was soon going to be provided. Soon, DD Metro hit the small screens and blew us away with new shows and a dash of glamour. Cable TV had bombarded  the Indian household, and everyone in the family had more shows to choose from. Children could watch cartoons and not the news, ladies had a new serial dished out every second day, teenagers had their music channels and for the news lovers, well, more news! Sindbad,  Potli Baba Ki, Chandrakanta, Shaktimaan, Duck Tales, TailSpin- we as children were spoilt for choice. National Geographic and other channels satisfied the curious and answered several questions not even thought of earlier. Even a single room house had a TV set, and real and reel lives became more and more intertwined, till people began to dress, talk and behave like the people on screen. Advertising caught up big time, we hummed the jingles and wanted the things we saw;popular serials gave their names to clothes and jewellery, like Shanti's bindis, even boosting consumerism. Shocking revelations came to the fore, when we encountered illicit relationships for the first time.Violence was a part of some shows, we accepted them knowing real life is subject to such desecrations, it is not a perfect world.

      Regional channels were to follow, and they created their own version of the 'daily soap', now that it had come to be known by that name. A basic article of day-to-day use, which we couldn't do without. In an era of globalization. they came as a boon to the masses who were not well versed with Hindi, and grew exponentially of offer viewers a plethora of choices.Music shows, cartoons, all now had their regional versions, enabling people to appreciate the rich heritage and culture of the particular region.

      Amongst all this positivity, there had to be some devils lurking in the background. Although soaps brought us face to face with the harsh realities of social life, like jealousy, hopelessness and superstition, they took to the beaten track quite too often. Volume was immense, but there was not enough material to substantiate it. A serial would start off with a good storyline, which would be exhausted after a hundred episodes or so, but just to keep the TRP's high, some mediocre and repetitive twist would be introduced. Dead characters resurfaced, one wedding in the serial and it turned into a raucous 'Saas-bahu' saga, which off-course, had no end. And day by day the soaps went far from reality. People in them were never caught without gaudy make-up and false eyelashes, even at unearthly hours, no daughter in law was spotted going to office. Music channels offered more than music, and youngsters adept at uttering profanities found lucrative careers. Obviously, the creators of the shows would argue that these shows have a huge fan-base, and they make only what people demand to see.

     Coming back to the parents, TV is their only solace as children leave home to study or work. They watch serials all evening and spend the rest of the time discussing them. Some may be spiritually inclined and keep to the religious stuff, but even those do not spare promoting superstition and bashing all things global and 'western'. The content of most soaps are conflicts within families, that is what bothers me the most. While every relationship has its ups and downs, I don't think so much of plotting and planning goes on within a  normal household. It is true that reel and real life influence each other, and here our judgement and discretion  is being put to the test. So it is time to return the favour - when we were rebuked for watching too much TV as kids, I think an attempt can be made to encourage the folks to take a walk in the park.

Pune diaries - A road less potholed

   Life is not one smooth journey, there's no denying that, but need the roads echo that sentiment too? After spending 2 months here, I can claim that Pune is a wonderful city - with pleasant weather, lot of greenery, cosmopolitan crowds, good cuisine, and a rapid rate of urbanization, thanks to the arrival of the corporate giants.But the travel woes here are another story.
    All the gainfully employed people travelling to the IT hub of the city, Hinjewadi, have also gained a backache for free. Whatever mode of transport you choose, public tempos and buses, or two-wheelers and cars, the lunar landscape of the roads leading there seem to spare no one. Having arrived here during the monsoons, it was pitiful to see the conditions of the roads. It seemed as though the employees were returning from some paddy planting in the fields rather than an air-conditioned office, thanks to the dirt and slush on their clothes and shoes.Few of my friends were even discussing the number of times they had been splashed on by muddy water due to a passing car. I gathered that dry-cleaners must surely be having a jolly good business season.
     A petition to the mayor was doing the rounds, and as a responsible citizen witness to the plight of my husband and friends facing the potholed menace day in and day out, I signed it. It had come down to the corporates having offices in this area thinking about pooling in their own resources to construct the road. But that would only be a one-time activity. The civic authorities had to step in for the maintenance. And it is ironical, that the region which is generating the most revenue for the authorities remains neglected.At this time it was also brought to my notice that some areas on the outskirts of Pune city, Hinjewadi being one of them, were not under the jurisdiction of the city municipality but were taken care of by local gram panchayats, indirectly the cause of sparse funding and failed infrastructure.
     With the monsoons abating, we hoped things would look up and repair work would start.Wishful thinking!
Hinjewadi roads remain dried up craters, while those in some other adjoining areas have just been filled over with grit and stones, a new nuisance for pedestrians. Well, just a matter of time and these will be dispersed exposing the pockmarked surfaces again. It is high time that our petition reached the mayor!

Of Roommates and Conundrum

     They can be fat, slim, tall, short, dirty, sneaky, cheesy, serious, sober, geeky….I am falling short of adjectives here. People who have ever shared a room with a stranger know that you can never know-it-all, when it comes to roommates. I have a Seinfeld fixture, so cannot help quoting from it: 

“Jerry: They didn't have roommates in the middle ages.
George: How do you know?
Jerry: Well, for one thing, they didn't have apartments” 

Apartment or hostel, those of you who think that they are lucky they never had any roommates, let me tell you, you have missed out on one of life’s greatest adventures. It can be a joyride and a nightmare, all at once. It can churn out the best of friends and the worst of foes.

    Miss A and Miss X are allocated the same room in a hostel. Miss A believes they would keep their room spic and span, be entertaining guests, and be good friends. Miss X, on the other hand, has different plans. She wants to top her class, so she intends to keep the room messy and totally free of visitors. She devices a unique method to achieve this. She keeps her clothes and books on the table while she sleeps, and dumps them on the bed when she studies at her table. She throws chocolate and biscuit wrappers on the floor. Miss A is a cleanliness freak, so she’s miffed. She tries explaining to Miss X how her approach is wrong and how she ought to lead a good lifestyle. Needless to say, good advice is rather frowned upon, and Miss X lends a deaf ear to it. Miss A cleans up the room during the vacations, and shoots another e-mail ‘advisory’ to Miss X, warning her to mend her ways. She does pay heed this time, and marches away to another room, much to the delight of Miss S1, who is one of Miss A’s closest friends, also fed up of her messy roommate and looking to move in with Miss A.

     Miss A and Miss S1 move in together, and they live happily ever after. The happy stories aren’t that interesting, so I shall skip them for the moment.

       Habits are such strange things, they make or break a relationship, especially that with a roommate. Two people may be best of friends, but not necessarily good roommates. One may be an early riser while the other may like to stay up late, one may be very hygienic while the other may revel in messy surroundings. One may be loud and boisterous, the other introvert and shy. What comes out from all these combinations is rather spectacular. Generally, roommates have a lot of influence over each other, and may completely change each other’s personalities, for better or worse, as the case may be. A cheesy roommate may giggle and hug you for every thing you say, and you may start to do the same, even without realizing how ridiculous you both look to others.

     Gender bender – I have actually found more girls complaining about roommates than boys. Maybe it means boys are more tolerant, or indifferent. I do not wish to be a judge of that. Females, on the other hand, scrutinize every action of another of their kind. If a girl gets 20 calls in a day, she is either a cry baby talking to her mommy about every meal, every class - in short, every sob and sniffle, or a bimbo trying to attract attention.

      As the saying goes – “You can choose your friends, but not your family”..in most cases not your roommate either. You were destined to be together. Recall Miss A, who I told you about earlier. She passes out of college, works at a particular location, gets an awesome roommate (Miss S2) there. Happy story, so let’s move on.   

    She moves to a new city and is on the lookout for a place to stay. This time she decides to try an apartment instead of living as a paying guest. This would entail more freedom, she presumes. She rents an apartment along with four other girls. They are very friendly and make her feel at home almost immediately. She unpacks and settles down to sleep. Suddenly, there are noises, someone is crying; the pitch increases and so does the swearing. Moments later Miss A sees a light in the kitchen. One of the girls is burning something .She is terrified at the thought of a fire breaking out, or the gas cylinder exploding on her very first night in that house. She says a silent prayer and goes to sleep.

   It is a weekend, and people are relaxing. Conversation flows, and Miss A’s new roommate Miss Y, is too impressed with her. She starts discussing how many prospects she has met, each one’s salary, qualifications, and even goes through each one’s Facebook page. First Miss A is all smiles, but after the third groom, things start looking alarming. So she excuses herself to take a nap. Later in the day, she sees her roommate applying some strange looking ointments and oils.  A asks if she is taking some kind of beauty treatment, usually a favorite pastime on weekends. What comes next shakes Miss A to the core. Her roommate suffers from a serious skin disease from the past year, and she is depressed and even contemplates suicide at times. She has had several roommates, and considers it some kind of coincidence that most of them leave the apartment and move somewhere else. The disease, mind you, is ‘mostly’ non-communicable. For the next two months A is subjected to some of the worst experiences in her life. She tries to offer sympathy, but the girl seems to be adamant not to take it. What’s worse is that all the other inhabitants of the flat come up and tell Miss A they would have never taken the room if they were in her place, how ironical was that? A was going bonkers, looking for a new place to move into.

    It was a Sunday, and World Cup cricket championships were going on. Someone was fighting on the phone with their boyfriend, okay, routine stuff. Wait, what was that loud ‘bang’ and ‘thud’? Words which remind me of Tinkle “Kalia the crow” comic strip. Miss A rushes out to find one of her flat mates had slammed a door, and broken a rather large piece of wall. There was also a plate of food on the floor, with its contents up on the ceiling!

    Dear Miss A began to have serious doubts, were these people crazy, or was she herself too ‘normal’. Birds of a feather flock together, that was the case here, or how could anyone put up with such chaos. She decided she’d had enough. Sanity needed to be restored. A new residence was sought and finalized at war footing.

   Miss A now has a new roommate. It has been a month, and she is keeping her fingers crossed. They have a laugh now and then, and share some movies and music, but you never know when the tides may turn. Going purely by past statistics, that is.

   I now wish to list some annoying ‘roomie’ attributes, shared by Miss A, purely on her own discretion: 

-         Mentioning the word ‘Roomie’ more than once in a sentence.

-         Assuming that you both are the best roommates and showing off to others.

-         Being extra polite, saying ‘Thank you’ and ‘Sorry’ numerous times.

-         Asking permission every time to use your spoon, when you don’t need it at that moment.

-         Leaving their clothes on the pegs in the washroom, and leaving no space for you to hang yours.

-         Saying ‘sweet nothings’ to their boyfriends in a loud voice, when you are trying to sleep.

-         Telling their family members over phone how good a roommate she has got. They, in turn, calling you to check on their ward’s whereabouts.

-         Asking advice on six short-listed prospects and which one to marry.

    It would be unfair to some great people if the happy stories remained untold. Miss A urges me to write about Miss S1, her roommate in college. They shared a room for three years, and there never was a day of misunderstanding. They were perfectly tuned. Although their habits differed, they lived in perfect harmony. S1 was this mature person always offering support to A in tough times. They had a lot of fun, and were very proud of their beautiful room.

      Miss S2, A’s roommate when she had joined her job, was a cool customer. A vivid personality with many talents, she stuck by A through thick and thin. They have also bonded for life, although they shared a room for just over eight months.

     The chances of getting a good roommate are rather skewed, but they do come by. Have you found yours already?

Finding Forrester - an anecdote

   Movies, I believe, are a manifestion of imagination with a figment of reality. So often, it happens that we watch a movie and experience some kind of Deja vu."Finding Forrester"...is a movie about an Afro-American teen writing prodigy played by Rob Brown, who finds a mentor in a reclusive author,played by a grey-haired Sean Connery.Watching it reminded me so much of someone I was very close to.Since she is no longer alive,I was kind of apologetic that I had not thought of her for so long.

     We had moved house, and were still getting to know our neighbours, when the lady in question announced herself. She was an old frail woman dressed in a worn out saree, a white one with a red border.She looked ill,and walked with a limp.We actually thought she had come to ask for charity. She introduced herself as a distant relation of our landlord, and then unraveled some facts about herself which almost left us gaping in wonder.She lived alone, had retired from a senior position in a government department, never married, had studied medicine for a year before abandoning it due to health reasons.She had had multiple fractures, the reason behind her limp. She had been hit by a car and lay in hospital for months with none of her relations knowing or caring. She said with absolute frankness that she was guarding a lot of heirlooms, and people were forever trying to dupe her.We thought, like all old people, she had gotten a little delirious and irritating.She said that my brother and I reminded her of her grand nieces and nephews.

     The visits became frequent, and once she landed up with an oatmeal porridge for me.I was around 10 years old then.I desisted it, but as a polite gesture, I had to taste it - and to my great surprise, it  was yummy!She had prepared it with date jaggery, an awesome experiment.So my tummy sent some good signals to my heart.My 2 year old brother had correctly guessed that she was too old to be an aunt, so he suggested we call her 'Thakuma'(paternal grandma in Bengali).She was delighted.

    She would spend hours chatting with my mother, offering her some words of wisdom, telling her some medical facts, and sharing hundreds of stories. She seemed like an enclyclopaedia. This was the time when my parents were quite busy to help me with my studies,and once, my mother suggested that I ask Thakuma to clear my doubts.I was sceptical - she was so old, I thought, what would she know of the latest curriculum?Forget know, the lady was competant enough to give my teachers a run for their money.She corrected my grammar exercise and numericals with utmost precision and gave me some great tips.Another lesson in humility.

   She gave long sermons on the use of grammar and language,one discussion led to another,and I ended up writing loads of stuff.I would leave my notebooks at home when I went to school, and came home to find comments and suggestions scribbled in red ink on them.Informally though, she had become my mentor.For my now impressionable teenage mind, I could see beyond her shabby exterior.I started visiting her home, which was more like a storehouse for furniture with her tiny little kitchen, where she would cook up some tidbits for me.We discussed all kinds of topics,more like friends than anything else.I would actually look forward to her visits now.

    I was doing well in school, and she would always say that she looked forward to seeing me take the Civil Services exam.Around this time, she had another rough patch with her health, a fracture and she was confined to bed for a few months. We would go visit her from time to time.Our association was now almost into its seventh year, and there was some talk of shifting into a new locality.In course of time we moved, and saw less and less of Thakuma now.It was difficult for her to take the numerous steps leading to our new home, so she would call us.But she did not miss my 10th Board results, and landed at our doorstep with the newspaper announcing my results and a box of sweets.

    Two more years, and I got busy with my exams,tutions, and saw her once in a blue moon.I met her before leaving for my engineering course.She was not entirely convinced that I was sure of what I was doing, but encouraged me nonetheless.From time to time I would get news of her from my mother, she was totally bedridden now, and some of her relations had finally taken pity on her.And then she left us forever.

   It is strange how people you least imagine can leave their mark in your life.For her selfless affection and all the knowledge she shared, I dedicate this to her.And thank you CC, for telling me to watch the movie.

Same Bat time, Same Bat channel!!

No use, Joker! I knew you'd employ your sneezing powder, so I took an Anti-Allergy Pill! Instead of a SNEEZE, I've caught YOU, COLD! - Batman


The opposite of a girl is a boy! - Robin


Hahahahahaha...I just can't stop laughing.


In spite of the suave Christian Bale in  'The Dark Knight', or the immensely talented Jack Nicholson and  Heath Ledger as the 'Joker', the undeniable fact remains,  for me at least,  that the Batman 1960's TV series is the most enjoyable.  What stated off as a comic book couldn't have taken on a better shape. The shows biggest assets according to me are its dialogues,  then its characters and last, but not the least, the many complex gadgets and theories which, from a 60's perspective, were absolutely incredible. Some even seemed stupid initially, but the more episodes I saw, the more they seemed to grow on me.


Adam West(Batman) with his baritone voice and great physique, and Burt Ward(Robin) the still vulnerable teenager, are a perfect crime fighting pair. Far removed from their alter egos millionaire Bruce Wayne and his ward Dick Grayson, with the latter having to take piano lessons and have milk and cookies when not involved in any dangerous escapades :). Better known as  'The Dynamic Duo', they have their own moments of glory and peril, their sound wits and knowledge proving them superior to any adversary who comes their way. The chemistry between the two is amazing, and Batman never forgets to correct Robin and teach him manners, if  he  displays any  hot-headed or incorrect behaviour, even though it may be  trivial, thus underlying the message to young viewers. The following is a classic example:


Robin: "You can't get away from Batman that easy!"
Batman: "Easily."
Robin: "Easily."
Batman: "Good grammar is essential, Robin."
Robin: "Thank you."
Batman: "You're welcome."


Robin's pet phrase is "Holy" and ending with "...Batman!" and a whole series of these quotes has become popular like this one: 
Robin: "Holy molars! Am I ever glad I take good care of my teeth!" 
Batman: "True. You owe your life to dental hygiene."

Alfred their English butler plays his own crucial role of confidante and assistant, sometimes even giving Batman a piece of his mind.  He's the quiet unassuming kinds, who even dons on guises to help his crime fighting master in the most perilous situations. He is even stuffed inside a giant pie by one of Batman's arch enemies,  the Penguin. Among several of his duties are 'dusting the Batmobile',  'checking the Atomic reactor' and 'answering the Batphone'.


One of the cutest and lovable characters is Aunt Harriet Cooper, who is Dick's (Robin's) aunt. She cannot understand why Bruce and Dick are always so busy having their discussions and lessons in the library. She has many a  time been taken hostage by villains, being kidnapped or held at gunpoint, immediately resulting in a fit in which she comfortably drops down unconscious on a  couch and never hits the floor.


At the beginning of each episode, when the Police Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara discover some felony in Gotham City, they have a discourse by which they always arrive at a single conclusion: 'Only one man can handle this crisis, and he is Batman'. So they pick up the red Batphone(which reminds me of a flaming tandoori chicken because of its red colour and transparent glass cover), and dial Batman. What the role of the police is, cannot be fathomed.


Arrive villains - complete  with theme-based hideouts and colourful gases to render people unconscious. They hardly kill people, but steal valuables and demand lots of ransom. I like particular actors whose names I've put in braces.
Notable villains included:
RIDDLER(Frank Gorshin) - Green leotard with question mark on chest, always poses riddles for the Dynamic Duo leading to   his crime. Awesome fiendish giggle.
JOKER (Cesar Romero) - the red-lipped and face-painted criminal, who makes a crime out of minor pranks.
PENGUIN (Burgess Meredith) - says 'Quack, Quack' and deals in umbrellas to hide his weapons of crime, Dressed in black and purple tailcoat, penguin theme restaurant owner as well. 
CATWOMAN(Julie Newmar) - the nimble and beautiful woman with a 'catty' mind for mischief, her gang members are called 'kittens' . She and Batman seem to develop a soft corner for each other, and Robin remarks 'Holy mush!'.
EGGHEAD (Vincent Price) - even the furniture in his hideout is shaped like eggs, and he eats eggs only from a particular farm, which eventually lead the Dynamic Duo on to him. Egg-straordinary!
MR. FREEZE - he cannot survive above -50 degrees centigrade, owing to an erroneous chemical reaction he conducted, and freezes over objects and people.


Each of the villains manages to get hold of Batman and Robin once in a while, and employs very complicated contraptions to take them to their death. They always manage to escape, sometimes with a little help from Alfred. You sometimes wonder why the villains don't ever kill them instantly, but ultimately are grateful for that.  Some of the gadgets employed to eradicate the duo include a giant hourglass, a Chinese water torment apparatus, a printing press, a candle maker, instant freeze, an ice-candy maker and an electric chair.


Thanks to his utility belt, which houses several miniature gadgets like the Batshield and Batterang,  Batman manages to get himself and Robin out of any life-threatening predicament. Some cunning villains realise this, and then it comes down to common sense alone. The Batcave, the duo's hideout and research lab, houses the Batmobile,  Batbike,  Batcomputer,  an atomic power generator, a giant city map where any location could be traced( speak about Google Maps) , a Bat-analyser(this could detect all the properties of any fabric, paper or metal and provide details (advanced X-ray scanner :)), and several other paraphernalia critical to the duo's activities.  It is most amusing to see Bruce and Dick slide down the Batpoles and emerge dressed as Batman and Robin, whilst you are left wondering how they could don the cowls, the tights and not to mention the underpants, all while on a ride down the pole...lol!  Another very interesting observation I have is that everything is so properly labelled, even one with "Secret fridge, do not open" :). When Batman and Robin leave the Batmobile unattended,  they replace the 'Ignition' label on a button which fires shots/flares so that they cannot help but be noticed stealing the vehicle.


Batman and Robin have no superpowers, they make use of intellect, detective skills, science and technology, wealth, physical prowess, an indomitable will and intimidation in their continuous war on crime. But at times, they exhibit nothing short of the good old superhero style, when they work out that shouting at a particular frequency can shatter their sound trap, or work out which of 2000 hair-salons in the city is Catwoman's hideout by the sound of 3 hair-dryers in the background. Batman is also a mathematical genius, and even calculates bullets being fired on them by several machine guns at a time. Robin is left open-mouthed in admiration.


They are friendly denizens, and as they climb up the Batrope( horizontal screen inclined shot) to reach their enemies, they even stop by to chat with the people of the city. They also grace parties, with Batman performing a jig or two in some episodes which was hilarious, to say the least. It had me in splits. The narration by William Dozier(producer) is rhymed, and parodied the breathless narration style, ending many of the cliffhanger episodes by intoning, "Tune in tomorrow — same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!"


In the end, it is not the precision of the gadgets or every calculation that matters in the crime-solving job, it is the faith. And this larger-than-life series makes you do just that, believe.
Come on, Robin, to the Bat Cave! There's not a moment to lose! 


P.S: If after reading this, you get the inclination to watch, let me know.

Many things on my mind

        A mundane day - get through the assignments at work and chores at home, go to bed thinking "Why do I have to do this?". Last day of the month, cellphone beeps, salary credited to account, Woohoo! Shopping, movies, eating out, weekend plans chalked out. Reality check- however much my job sucks, I need it. Next weekend, no movie release, friends busy, lousy day. No doubt this has happened to each one of us. So I begin to contemplate "How much money does someone actually need to be happy?"   . Are our needs actually needs or luxuries. Well, there is no meaning left of the phrase 'Simple living and high thinking'. The most basic needs are not food, clothing and shelter but I-phone, MacBook pro, Blackberry etc., etc..I am not saying that a cupboard is a luxury, but where are we drawing the line,or don't we need to, provided the cushy jobs that we have landed, not by some super skill but by some miracle of globalisation called 'outsourcing'. Being on leave for almost a year now, I have, at times, had nightmares that Obama has actually banned all outsourcing, and billions of us in India have become unemployed. Ridiculous it may sound, but it is not virtual reality either, only an impending disaster. Then I begin to think, I could do something simpler in life, maybe that would give me less money, but peace of mind. What that would be, I do not know.

    The fact is, acquiring status and material possessions has become the be-all and end-all of our existence. When I was young, why, even now, I hear my parents speak to me of someone's else's plight, and what all are doing to chip in and help. Like the small pan-shop owner who lost his wife and is himself ill. With business at an all time low, he is struggling to make ends meet for himself and his two daughters. The people in his locality have made donations, and are now trying to ensure that his elder daughter gets a job to help her ailing father. "What are/ should be my priorities in life?", I begin to think. I see some friends who are involved in teaching orphans, or caring for destitute animals, and it makes me very proud, to think that they are giving back to the under-privileged in society a part of themselves. With family ties not what they used to be a few decades ago, even caring for parents or ensuring the education of siblings are no longer priorities for most of us, everyone is more or less independent. Selfishness is brewing big time, and most of our free time is either spent mulling over what we do not have, or thinking aloud on social networking sites.


   A medical study has proved that people who spend more than 30-40 hours per week on social sites need help. So what is this percentage...excluding the infants and elderly, illiterate and poor, non computer-savvy people like few of our parents, it must be definitely more than half of the India's total population. Come to think of it, companies who ban such sites deserve some credit. I never spent more than 2 hours per week on Orkut during my normal workday, but now, all hell has broken loose. With plenty of time to spare, a Facebook account, and no other creative pursuits at hand, I am spending more time planting and harvesting virtual crops than I do cooking a meal. After around 4 months of crazily pursuing various farming community goals, and landing with a frozen shoulder, I have given up, although the addiction seems to tug on and force me to play sometimes :-). I read the posts from friends and wonder, "Does our behaviour on social sites give an idea of our state of mind?". I would like to think this is true. Incessant status updates, repeating even the day's headlines, mild abusive outbursts, are people too involved or too lonely, given that all are having regular jobs. There are certain things which definitely are worth sharing, but are we getting an excess of others' minds...random quizzes and predictions, and worst of all, conversations have lost their personal and private nature. Of course we can message or call friends, but we seem to enjoy making a display of everything. Also,"are all the 247 people in my friends' list really my friends?". Agreed, there are juniors, seniors, some ex-colleagues, school and college buddies and also the few unknown personalities. But with how many are we actually in touch. It is no denying that without these sites we never could have united so many long lost friends, and I earnestly hope we are not neglecting those who are not savvvy enough(yes, there are a few of those). If someone does not put up their kids' photos on Facebook, are they not happy enough? This is just the point I wish to make here.


    Until a few years back, we took part in all celebrations and social activities but being present physically. Call it small-town mentality or whatever, going to someone's house uninvited was the norm, and people came to your house at any time as well. There was no call made to enquire if they would be at home, or if we would be disturbing them, just land on their door and knock. If they weren't around, we would go to someone else's house nearby, the idea was just to engage in some chit-chat and banter. "Why don't we visit people without informing nowadays?". There were few neighbours at whose homes we children would land up at meal times, and many friends who arrived suddenly and made a request for some special delicacy to my mother, and she would oblige, whatever the hour. You would be caught shabbily dressed, and your room would be far from clean, but nobody cared. Even with friends, a sort of pretence seems to have taken over. Or is it because we meet others  personally only once in a blue moon, that we want to put our best foot forward.


    As children, we always imagine what our future will be like, when we'll be all grown up and independent, and shape our lives the way we want. But as time goes by, I realise that I think more about the past than the future. Incorrigible me, I try to seek solace in Linda Goodman's prediction for the crab, who, she says, hold on to past memories for life. As a result, I feel that "Some people have better foresight than others". Little decisions have big outcomes, be it a decision of pursue further studies, or to change a job, or move to different city, you can very easily get caught in the web of things if you don't have foresight. One does not require a crystal ball to delve into one's future, but it is conscious decisions and foresight alone that pave your way in life. Or else icons in any field would not have been born, if one stuck to doing what their ancestors did.


    But is a person entirely free of the influence of their environment - our basic social studies knowledge tells us otherwise. "Can parents(background) decide our standing in life?". Obviously, from the economic standpoint, life poses fewer challenges up to a certain time if one comes from a well-to-do family. But in the end, its your ambition that decides whether or not you have a solid backing. If the son of a government servant set out to make films, there ought to be some hiccups. But no obstacle is too great, and people with sufficient will-power sail through. I put too much stress on 'self' because I try not to assign the responsibility or blame of my decisions on others, nor compare myself with anyone. This is me sermonizing to myself.


     'Where there is a will, there is a way', some wise soul said, and our elders have many a times quoted. People are immensely talented, they sing, dance, write, draw, click splendid pictures, perform martial arts, and play musical instruments. "So are people prodigious or is it just sheer interest to learn something?". I think one has an inclination towards certain things, which one pursues as a hobby. For most this is just one thing like reading novels. You just read, you don't have to be good or bad at reading. But the arts are a different domain. You give pleasure to yourself and much more to others, be it by singing, dancing or painting. And if you do more than one of these, you simply are exceptional. But no art comes to us automatically, it requires so much patience and practice. A good voice may be a gift from above, but learning the right notes and tuning it is just as important.


    These are just some of my thoughts that have come to mind more than once, trying to answer my own questions...

The starting note..

I welcome myself to Blogger!!And all readers of this blog!

So much for introductions....

   I had been hosting my blog on http://spotty.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm, a site suggested to me by a  good friend in college, and for the past 4 years I have rambled on various topics. People have benignly read, given their honest opinion, and shared many anecdotes..

All fresh posts kept showing up on a home page, and it was very easy to stumble upon great pieces of writing. You could read one article by someone, and get enchanted to read lots many, enter friendly entries into contests, and forge a mutual admiration society with totally unknown people...

I haven't explored Blogger much, and I hope it hides many such facets....but only reading blogs of people you know is almost like eating the same menu week after week; you do love the dishes, but at times do care for some change of palate, something totally unexpected and awesome!

So I begin my Blogger journey, with gratitude to all readers, accidental or intentional.....if comments/criticism do come my way...shall take them with a pinch of sugar/salt :))