Monday, January 31, 2005

'Shrew'd Mother Boo

Her -
Very fair
With curly hair
Girl with brains rare
A Stage actress beyond compare
For her friends she does care

1998 August
Room No: 511, Meera Bhawan, BITS, Pilani.
There was a Tamil speaking girl who made me really comfortable coz i couldn't speak Hindi for nuts. But the third occupant of the room made me wary...she definitely looked foreign and spoke a language i couldn't make sense, there was this 'Royal' aura around her but what was really scary was 'she knew Seniors'! -- Seniors who sauntered in to inquire about her comfort and in the process ragged me and Vidhya( the Tamil girl).

A slight detour while we reminisce...

Diba, that's my Persian Royalty, joined the English Drama Club while i walked despondently towards Pilani Tamil Mandram. Despondent becoz the EDC folks said that i was good at acting but had a very weak voice for stage. While i waited for my audition slot, this Tall, Huge dude walked towards me.
"What's your name?"
"Pon.Chidambarakumari, Sir"
"Do you read books?"
"Yes, Sir"
"Who is your favourite author and what is your fave book?"
"Ayn Rand and her Fountainhead."
Eyebrows were raised. Smiles exchanged. W acknowledged me as a 'different' junior.
[Thank Heavens EDC rejected me coz i made it into PTM :)]

1998 September
Room No: 511, Meera Bhawan, BITS, Pilani.
For the past one week, Diba had been living with the "Physical Chemistry" book. The first test was just around the corner. Of course i had better things to do like figure out if Dagny and John did finally get together or not.
Damn why did Ayn Rand write such huge books?
Two days before test.
I was lying on my back with Atlas Shrugged held high above n trying to make sense of John Galt's "A is A" speech when a face comes into view, tho' upside down.

"Err Kumari don't you think it is high time you studied?"
I blinked at her. Sat up in bed.
"It's just two more days and I haven't seen you open your book at all."

Jeez! Where did this girl land up from? But i still decided to give in. Having seen to it that i lock( yeah she made me do that) my book inside my wardrobe, she went back to her "Studying".

With that conversation, started one of my wonderful relationships...a friendship which has braved the storms and enjoyed the peace..of more late-night 'tuitions' than my pea-sized brain could handle, of black coffee & lime tea ...

Where the streets had no names, we did make our own...

P.S: Guess what was that infernal test scores? I made a wonderful 3.5 for all the hard work i never did and Diba? 2.5! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry :p One look at her face and i settled for neither :-D

P.S of P.S: She maxed the subsequent tests while i gave company to the other bottom-rungers!

Beats me?

Why does my navigation bar come way below all my posts?
Is that how you get to see it? or is it where it should be when u open my blog?

Hmm...Just when you think you have mastered the HTML tags, you realise you're way behind the pack :'(

Okies, lemme get back to work!
Guess what it is? Javascript functions....aaaaarghhh!

I think

...therefore i am CONFUSED!

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Mood swing

Let me be realistic, however vain i might be, i still find it improbable that i would look SEXY for so long :)
As my previous post suggests, i am looking out for ways to add more light and energy to my otherwise mundane existence.
I took the first step by turning up in an extremely bright YELLOW saree for work on a very Blue Monday morning! If this isn't optimism, i don't know what is!
I have a truckload of work in store, not just for today but for the entire lifetime of this project - which is till May :(

Btw, on saturday yours truly was on her way to the temple dressed in pavadai-thavani. As i stood on the side of the road waiting to cross, this old lady walked up to me with her 5 year old grand-daughter and said, "I am so happy to see you dressed in pavadai-thavani. I have got sick and tired of seeing girls in salwar-kameez. You've made me really happy."
Hehehe, i blushed a crimson-red :)

So Vitalstatistix, all those "New" avatars of saree-blouse will never ever become a reality beyond the silver screen nor will it cast its influence on the ever alluring pavadai-thavani.
Three cheers for tradition!

Oops i almost published without doing what i really set out to do -
A BIG THANK YOU to Ammkuttz and Sagnik!

Creative Geisha?

If you can't make sense of the title, read this.
A post by Rajesh .

Shocked? Surprised? Wild?
When i wrote 'Kaapi Write', i really didn't think too much about plagiarism but now i shudder to showcase my talent without a way to trace it back to me...

I am not exactly a prolific writer...i don't get dime-a-dozen inspirations that transform themselves into wonderful materpieces...i ain't a John Keats, though i am a die-hard fan of his works.
We do live in a ruthless world but how desperate are we to actually steal other people's thoughts? their ideals, opinions? and masquerade them as our own?
To prove our intellectual worth (where there isn't any)?
I am not here to satiate the creative hunger of an intellectually-challenged, unethical idiot (for lack of a harsher word) by thinking for him and writing for him
(it could be a 'she' too).

Initially i had a High with all this blogging...coz i didn't have to look out for a publisher, save money to see my work in print. I didn't have to wait for those few friends to find time to read my poem/article and send their valuable comments...I still wait for their comments but the wait is made more memorable by the plethora of netizens milling around - the lovers and the critics.

But this new revelation that one among the many who vist my blog is not going to be just an ardent lover of my work but might be a stalker,a cut-throat, demented soul, stealing my face and walking around in it without me being none the wiser sends an eerie chill down my spine.

I want to write.
I plan to continue writing.
But i don't know if it would be here...for the rest of the world to read and enjoy.
I think i might just get back to my good old diary...scratching words, tearing sheets and doodling on paper waiting for that elusive brainwave seem like a page from a romantic era long forgotten...

For the first time in many months i feel vulnerable. Open to assault.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Mysterious Ms.X

A close friend once said that there are signs in our day-to-day life giving proof to God's will and existence...
I didn't believe it then but i do now.

However what was his rationale behind making me slip on the water, fumble, fall and lie like the letter X in my bathroom on a Sunday morning, unable to call for help, deeply conscious of the many bones i didn't break?
Was he trying to say that i am the inspiration for another one of those Dan Brown Thrillers with grotesque death postures?

Or maybe he wanted to convey that my life is taking a turn for the downhill...i did not listen, rebuked the sign and went window-shopping at Spencer Plaza.
Buhahahahaha! (That's God trying to mimic Satan)

I just withdrew Rs100/- from my bank account.
That left only a 4 digit number as my balance.
Did i hear someone say "So what the &*$# are you griping about?"
Well, just this, my friend...That 2 of those darn digits lie on the right side of the decimal point. Ironic.
It is the wrong side, if you ask me.

February is so damn FAR away!
Till then the cheapest thing i could buy is my two minutes on blogspot.

To Dandy(?) Nandy

I write.
He reads;
He comments.
I read.
I re-commend.
We read.
We comment.
Laughter spread.
Loneliness handled.
Increase sentences.
Shorten distance.
Literary romance.
Intellectual climax.
E-conversation continues...
Random thoughts
(on)Midget diaries!

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

to satiate jax's curiosity

This is getting really hilarious. Okay, Jax wanted to know what a Tank Top is, so here i am with more enlightening nuggets of info :-D

My meaning : No! This is not a military uniform. Take any good sleeveless t-shirt and tear it in half so it stops at your midriff. That's your tank top. The unwritten rule with a tank top is , you shall wear only a pair of low-waist jeans, to prove to the world you are not Eve(or Adam for that matter) but just a descendent. How? The belly button ofcourse.

The real meaning : In American English and Australian English a tank top is a sleeveless shirt that can be worn by either sex. The name derives from its resemblance to a tank suit, a style of one-piece women's swim suit with shoulder straps. ("Tank suit" in turn refers to "swimming tank," an obsolete term for what are now called "swimming pools constructed from plastic and metal)
Tank tops are often worn by athletes in sports.

Well if i knew it would sound so boring, i wouldn't really wear it :-D

It was considered as innerwear/work-out clothes until one summer day in 1980s, a few good women decided to strut around publicly in them to beat the heat!

A small step for that girl, a giant leap for many-a-men.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

The Tall, The Pretty and The Little

This is not about The Son.
And it is not about his not-so-little Dad either.
Believe it or not, it is not about his oh-so-pretty mom too.
This is all about me. Just me. So where do they fit in?
We work for the same employer and there the similarity ends.


It was a sweltering summer afternoon
As I stood awaiting my boon
Food in FC is hard to get
If you don’t run and sweat
And get your place in queue by noon.

As I bid my time, I decided to stare
At every passing pair
But when they walked in and stood
I stared a second longer than I should
Coz they had smiles beyond compare.

He stood as tall as half a palm tree
And did not smile at everyone for free
You need to be his wife or his best pal
Or a gutsy gal
To corner him and force him to agree

Little did she know she made my day
When she called on him sitting in our bay
With a lovely smile the mom-to-be
Made me as happy as can be
But alas! They never looked my way!

I decided to push my buck
As I no longer wanted to be the sitting duck
Awaiting the King & Queen to see me from a mile
And bestow me with their million-dollar smile
But was it a good idea to kidnap Ms.Luck?

I met the maiden fair
Climbing down the stair
Crossed my fingers and gave a grin
She smiled back; I did win!
Aha! Now His turn- Do I dare?

I met him at the door
Since then he stares at the floor
- His attempt to ignore me.
Phew! When will he ever see
That I am not a bore???

Now they are a Happy Trio
With a little one to dirty the patio
And I am here penning rhymes
To make them smile at strangers a few more times
As they go on a drive in their family Scorpio!

** Thanks to Manibushan & Preethi for their picture-perfect smiles.
*** And to Father Time for those moments stolen.

Monday, January 24, 2005


How would you react if one of your posts from your blog was lifted, pasted as the body of an e-mail and sent across to millions via the corporate network as "The story of the day" without any reference to you as the author???

I would have screamed my heart out. I should ask Venu what he did.

This morning when i opened my inbox, i found a fwd from my friend in Sasken.
What was eerily spookier than the post in Venu's blog was the fact that this story is his and it is doing the rounds without anyone getting any wiser about the fact.

Aargh! a few months back it was the turn of Rajesh'sstory to go on a similar trip.

How can people be so callous? Yeah dude, I LOVE my works to gain publicity and I love Fame. But do you see the I?

Is there a way to stop all this?

Sunday, January 23, 2005

To not let go - one of my fave

Well i am not exactly bored but i am quite restless as u can see me up beyond my bed-time and blogging nonsense.
This is another wonderful poem by another blogger, Bookend.
To Not Let go She writes really well too. i think that's an understatement.

You know sometimes i wish i could write like this. Coz all the time those emotions go around warring with each other inside, there is this huge epic story to be told but unfortunately i never do find them words to put it across.

She did it for me. Thanks.

Time for me to sleep otherwise Amma is gonna sit up and pore through that telephone bill and wonder why there are a few extra digits where there shouldn't be.
So long and Thanks for the fish!

Chat time

Right now am at home...yeah yeah on dial-up, chatting with Cuz Shiv after a really long time...and yeah we were discussing relationships..but we realised it is way too complicated.
So we switched on to quotes.

Here are a few of my fave scientist, Einstein's:

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former."

"Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."

my thoughts now...

are best reflected in this poem by this blogger...
One day to many

He writes really well. I chanced upon his site and since then been going there often to read his works...

Whoever you are, BM,The Movement, a million thanks to you.

if i have one wish

i would shut out my mind. Damn it, i remember too much and it is killing me.
Help! i am a prisoner within me....

Thought for the night

I hate weekends that dont last an entire week.Period.

Can you keep a secret?

Nope this is not a trick question.
Naah, this isn't rhetorical either, whatever that means.
This is the title of the latest book i read. Sophie Kinsella's "Can you keep a secret?".
I couldn't stop laughing since i picked it up. It is romance but not the M&B kinda trash.
I dont know, maybe i was really depressed but i genuinely like this kind of humour. Somehow found myself hooked to the lead characters and couldn't wait till i found out whether they got together or not.

It was all about this 25 year old marketing assistant getting onto a flight and babbling all her secrets to a complete stranger sitting next to her coz she is afraid of flying and the bloody plane gets into some air turbulences and this "stranger" turns out to be her billionaire boss. And the story takes off from there.

After reading it in one sitting, i was wondering what my secrets were...would i be comfortable telling it to a complete stranger...of course i should know before hand that i would date this stranger n we would eventually click and ....happily thereafter...
Yeah right, who am i kidding? The age of big romances sunk with the Titanic. Forget big, where the hell is the romance?

But i still don't have as many secrets as Emma does. Infact not only are there many, they aren't even remotely interesting...
  • I have saved up my first molar tooth which fell in my 4th standard in a ring box, wrapped in velvet.
  • I collect velvet strips and my friend Shoba cut this piece from behind her sofa and sneaked it to me in school. ( i told you they would be boring!)
  • I hate lizards. i can't stand them.
  • I love to keep coffee in my mouth and then swallow it drop by drop. My aunt says i eat coffee n dont drink it.
  • I get the shivers if i see honeycomb, or anything that is in clusters.
  • I once smuggled some crazy romance novel written by Agatha Christie (under a pseudonym Mary Westmacott or sth) from my dad's shelf and tried to make sense of the word smooch in my 3rd std.
  • I firmly believed my whole life was being shown as a soap opera to a kid in Scotland and i refused to take bath in my kindergarten. (You can imagine my shock when my childhood fear was actually made into a movie - The Truman Show! Damn why didn't someone tell me about patents before?)
  • I thought that Mani Ratnam would see me on the road and ask me to do a role in his movie and i would be this super gorgeous, down to earth, homely, silver screen , National Award winning actress. That was in the 7th std.
  • I really don't understand management and i sleep with my eyes open in my office meetings.
  • I can't stand computers but i still patiently listen when my cuz gushes about this new game. Well, he does look like this sweet kid when he talks of computers. :)
  • I had this crush on a Muslim chap in my flat and believed that we were an item together just like ArvindSamy n Manisha in 'Bombay'. (don't you snigger)
  • I strongly believed 'i love you' and 'kiss' were bad words when in 3rd std. ( i have since grown up :p)

Chasing mirages...

~I and ~D are in love... been that way since i knew them.
Though i never ever saw them together, walking hand-in-hand as a couple but still you knew. One always knows.
They are the sweetest pair i have ever known and i can't wait to see them in Holy Matrimony. One thing that might be used by the grown-ups if all else fails is, "She is older to you"...yup ~I is older to ~D by a few months.

I guess i was thinking about them when i went to bed and as i slowly drifted towards sleep, i realised why i never felt ~I was the older of the two.
~D, is not our typical cliched man but yet where emotions are concerned he has always maintained a stoic face, except perhaps when watching 'The General's daughter'.
All that i remember of ~I is how her face lights up when she sees ~D, or when she is with him or simply talking about him. There is no shouting, no overt display of happiness like i am prone to when i see objects of my love...err not objects exactly.

Anyways, the point is, ~I looks absolutely cherubic when her face lights up in childish glee, and with the mature ~D next to her, they look like the Perfect couple. I guess i have never felt so much for anyone as i feel for these two. If only i were blessed with skills as Erich Segal, maybe i would have penned their Love Story...not about the hours they spent in each others company, but the moments they saved for the other from their hectic schedules, about taking love to another level or maybe being just themselves...and making me love them so hopelessly!

I love you ~I and i love you ~D...if you ever realise this is for you, then i have just this note, "Will you please get married soon, dammit! i need to wear my new saree?" :-D

Friday, January 21, 2005

my fingers crossed...

i sent my entry for India Smiles Contest finally.
Phew! i thought it would be a burden lost but it has increased the butterflies count in my stomach...

Come to think of it why do we keep insisting butterflies are fluttering in our stomachs when we get the heebie-jeebies?
Why would any sane butterfly decide to flutter inside a dark, clammy membranous organ when it can roam around the world under a clear, blue sky for free?

And when it is the hunger pang, we insist rats are running amuck inside. To spare you i shall not quote the Hindi original.

Wonder if animals have such idioms n phrases...
Would really be hilarious if Rinty were to tell Cozmo, "Bow boww wooow bowow" which in crude translation be,"I have these guys going hoppity hop in my tummy. Let me find a tree/lamp post fast" (yeah i know; a very long translation for a short speech but then 'Maintenant' in French stands for 'NOW')

Should i actually think of an epilogue for this post...naaah, too much trouble.
Adios amigos!

Pasta for Little Medusan's eyes...

A few days back Mandoo called up all the waaaaaaay from SLC to check on me. We talked and talked and talked and finally he said that i should post something Hot & Spicy in my blog. Good idea but then what exactly would be defined as 'Hot & Spicy'?

JLo? Eeeyuuuck!
Britney Spears? Well there is hardly anything left unheard of and unseen for me to write home about.
Everest Chaat masala? Naah, i would become extinct :p
Brad Pitt? Ooooh...that's wonderful esp. now that Jennifer is not in competition
But then when a man with a nose as red as a Red Bell Pepper happens to be your buddy and he calls you long distance just to ask you to write about women's clothing, you can't refuse. I am not a fashion-expert, not when i match a red blouse to a purple skirt and still walk around like i am Versace's pet :)
So Diba & Prajakta, do please forgive me as i take this journey into realms where you are the unchallenged leaders.

Mandoo's doubts are on the subtle differences between the different names that do exist for women's blouses.

Spaghetti Top: Don't ask me why but that is how this piece of attire is called. I didn't know it had been promoted from the lingerie department till i saw the dames in my city walking around in them and blaming the Sun for the heat. This top looks more like an innerwear than an outer wear with straps in the width of a spaghetti. Yippee i mangaged to explain one!

Noodle-strap Top:, this is a close cousin of the above except this has not one but two wafer thin, noodle-thick straps. Mind you these straps are nowhere close to tautness as the spaghetti ones are. The prime reason to have such flimsy straps is to make them slip and fall when sitting next to a guy or dancing with him in the disco, as exhibited by Kareena in K3G. This sure did make Suzanne steam and turn a lovely Tomato-red!

Tube Top: God bless the girl who wears this! Coz if it wasn't for HIS blessing, i seriously have no clue how they make it stay put. This has NO straps and defies all the laws of Gravity known to man. I am sure if it were in existence at the time of Newton and if Newton were to be sitting beside his beloved and not under an apple tree, we would have been happier with a few lesser laws to learn in Physics. This is just a cylindrical piece of cloth with no neck, no shoulders, looking more like an artistically cut pipe. That explains the name.

The blouse: I have no name for this. Coz this to me looks more like a badly cut tube top with little shoulder piece which is still deciding whether to stick on or move on. Mind you, the shoulder piece is just marginally thicker than a spaghetti strap and covers just one shoulder. Beats me!

The Ragamuffin Top: Hehehe, i named it so. This is a very normal blouse with nice bell sleeves that almost engulf the girl's entire arms, however there is a minor catch. Or is it major? The sleeves are cut in a zillion places. A couple of tiny stitches hold the entire sleeve together. Why would anyone ever cut a lovely blouse into so many shreds and then stitch them together?

Well i am sure there are more to this list but then if i write any more, i would start laughing uncontrollably so let me catch my breath and get on with work.

For all their funny names, the world would definitely be duller but for these tops and the girls in them. I mean , how would Univercell sell their cell phones, if they can't have a huge billboard with 5 girls, each of them wearing one of the above mentioned tops in vibrant colours? It's a different matter altogether that none of them carry any phones.
Long live men! and their love for Art!

Little Medusan, here is your scandalous, 'Hot & Spicy' prose :)
Have a nice weekend!

Thursday, January 20, 2005

back again

not to blogging but to work :(
Was down and out in bed yesterday with fever.
Saddest part was none were at home to pamper me...anyways, nursed myself to health and now here i am wondering if i should at all blog...

lemme think about it while you guys have a peaceful day and an exciting weekend!
And guess what! in all my feverish hallucination, i visited Kana's blog and left a comment, all the while under the impression this man is Kana from my batch :(
And today when i look at Rat's blog i realise what a gross mistake i have done.

Kana, if you ever visit this page, or for that matter if any one of you who knows Kana visits this page, ask him to forgive a lovely and attractive young woman for a slight slip :p:p

Wednesday, January 19, 2005


“Log kehte hain humein aadat hai muskurane ki”
“Magar who kya jaane yeh bhi ek ada hai gam chupane ki”

A wry smile crossed her lips. She looked at the mirror. Her reflection smiled back at her. Nothing about her had changed in these past few years. The hair style, the single lock of hair falling over her forehead, the smile, the way her eyes cringed when she smiled, her twinkling eyes...She stopped. Her eyes. They no longer twinkle.
They are bright still but then it is a forced brightness...a light not to showcase the happiness inside but a light to blind the viewer, numb his senses into believing 'All's well that ends well'.

'...ends well'. That's what this is. She stared at the crumpled paper in her hands. His letter. It was filled with happenings in his life...the little details she loved to know like the colour of his shirt when he penned the letter, the rain on his window pane...everything but what used to be... the :-* smileys hidden between lines, the 'i love you's in different languages. What was missing was him.

She thought they were meant to be. He thought too. When people who have never thought of life think of eternity together, this is what happens. They get lost. She stood under the shower. The cold water was warmer than the world around. She looked at the letter again, the water couldn't erase the writings. He always rubbed wax on his letters so that it would never gets erased. Yes, his writings were never lost but...

She stepped out of the shower, got dressed and walked out. Her husband clasped her hands and led her towards the crowd. Someone, somewhere was saying, "You are the live wire in any group. The place lights up when you enter and even the heart broken one decides to laugh when they hear you speak. And those eyes, a look at them is enough to put the star to shame".

As she walked she saw herself in his eyes. Nothing about her had changed...The hair style, the single lock of hair falling over her forehead, the smile, the way her eyes cringed when she smiled, her glistening eyes...He knew why they glistened but this was how it was meant to be. They smiled at each other and then turned around to introduce their spouses.

Din Guzar Jaata Hai Un Se Nazar Nahin Milti,
Pehle Ki Tarah Ab Un Ki Khabar Nahin Milti

Ae Khushi Tu Ajeeb Hai Ek Baat To Bata,
Dhoondta Hoon Main Jidhar Tujhe Tu Udhar Nahin Milti

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Aaaargh Lemme outta here

Things i have done in the past one hour:
  • Inserted a dozen debug statements in my code to check why the darn logic isn't working.
  • Went to the pantry and made myself a cup of steaming hot black coffee.
  • Deleted those debug statements and inserted new ones. No progress.
  • Checked out Sagnik's blog 7 times and left 2 comments.
  • Checked out Modi's blog and left a comment.
  • Blogrolled my way to Japanese, Spanish and a few English blogs and left comments.
  • Inserted more debug statements.
  • Visited the restroom thrice.
  • Filled my water bottle, came to seat, drank it all in one gulp and visted the loo again.
  • Visited Rathish' s blog 6 times.
  • My 'expletive-deleted' code refuses to work. Grrrr.
  • Told my Module lead i refuse to work as it is against my religious principles.
  • Checked Yahoo mail for the 10th time since 8:30 A.M. NO mails.
  • Sent my blog url to 10 new people fishing for compliments. Cheap gimmick.
  • Blogging my boredom.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

The Mating Song

Few months ago, mid way into the search for a tailor-made son-in-law, appa called me and asked what kind of husband i want. The nitwit that i am, i decided to answer in verse. Here is what i gave him after staying awake through the night:

How would he be -

Him who is destined for me?

Will he be tall, dark & handsome?

With looks quite winsome?

Or will he shower me with pearls and gold

As in the legends of kings told?

Will he tell me a joke a day

And keep my worries at bay?

Or will he just sit and simper

When he hears me whimper?

Questions abound;

Whilst for an answer, I grope around...

I ask not for a Prithviraj

To carry his Samyuktha away!

Just a steadfast hero

Who'll with me always stay.

Hmm...Tall he needs to be

To clean those cobwebs, I can't reach.

Obedience his virtue; You see

I am strict when I teach.

I need no banker with tons of money

Just a doting husband to call me "honey"!

Hard worker blessed with a genius brain

Yet find time, to play in the rain.

Strong enough to handle pressure

And smartly ward off stress

Coz life with me is quite an adventure

Especially when we shop for my dress!

To stay not hungry in bed

He better be a great cook -

Coz though many books I've read

A recipe book, I gave no second look!

A soul mate very nigh

He should hear me before I sigh.

To sit with him under a starry sky

And read poetry; Don't ask why!

Oh Please! Let me not hear screams.

These aren't wishes larger-than-life,

But give wings to my dreams

And I am a wonderful wife!

Appa looked at it, smiled but said no more. After 3 more months of futile search, he came to me and this time he said "Ammai, i want to know what exactly you are expecting in a guy...No, wait, i don't want your verse. I want a practical answer".
I smiled and said "Okay, then just get me a Man" and i passed on Rudyard Kipling's 'IF' to him. He gave me an exasperated look and stopped asking me open-ended questions.
"Ammai, do you want an engineer?".
"Yes, appa".
"O.K, that's all i know and all i need to know".
It's almost a year now.
The Search continues...

Friday, January 14, 2005

My first post on dial up...

I've stopped thinking up amazing, poignant, sending-a-chill-down-your-spine titles for my blogs...the main reason being there are no amazing, poignant sending-a-chill-down-your-spine titles left in the right side of my brain. Moreover i am hooked to a dial-up net connection which might decide to leave me high and dry any moment...aaah! i never ever thought i would miss office.
This is the first time i am blogging from home. My net connexion at home is damn funny! It has never linked upto yahoo during weekends as if to save me from an impending doom - the heartbreak of seeing an empty inbox :p
But today has been lucky...i opened yahoo to find the invitation i had been waiting for - to contribute to the 'BITSian' to think of a wonderful piece of prose to set those wheels in motion.

Pongal was wonderful...I made the customary 'Sarkarai Pongal' this time and Surprise! it was Yummy:)Life can only get better from this point onwards... I know to you it might seem funny, but then making the Perfect 'Sarkarai Pongal' is never an easy job.

Every year our entire family met in our native place Tirunelveli and from there made a trip on 2 vans to a small village called 'Vadivuchi Mathil'..this is where my grandparents lived aeons ago. We have a small temple here and every year we have our puja in May with my Grandma being the pujari... Now a word about her, i know there would be many amongst you, who would refute any claims of vision and the Goddess possessing humans or speaking through them but in my family , my grandma is The Goddess...there is no doubt in any of our minds... I still remember how scared i used to be to stand next to that Puja room. Grandma would get inside that dark room, lit only by lamps, perform the aarthi, close her eyes and chant a small prayer. My eldest cousin would stop ringing the bell...the only noise heard would be the birds on the trees. Pin-drop silence, otherwise. Slowly Grandma would sway and i would try to inch my way away from the entrance. An then a shout, loud enough for the entire village "Everything would happen as you planned. I am here to protect. Go forward with your tasks." Silence again. She would open her eyes and then come out to bless the entire family. And when she blessed each one, to us, it was never our Granny, it was always The Holy Mother. To each one she would say something which would be the answer to the question they never asked aloud, yet she would know. She always knows.

My Grandpa is turning 85 this Feb and Grandma just turned 78 last December...I don't know how long SHE plans to leave them with us but i would long to see my little one inch away from that puja room, with fear in her eyes, looking at her great-grandma, swaying to an unheard music and speaking to an unseen friend - HER GOD!

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Ethnicity and Ringing Bells!

Yesterday was the Ethnic Wear competition in my office. The dress code was relaxed for the day. I must admit barring the men none ever followed it as they really couldn't define "Formal" dress for us gals! :p Many made use of this relaxation by turning up in jeans, sandals, short tops...That's another story altogether. But it was really wonderful to see the men clad in Dhotis or Kurta-pyjama and the women in sarees (in different styles) , mallu settu-mundo, kashmiri name it we had it!!!

Of course yours truly went in a pavadai-thavani or the 'Half-saree', the typical Tamil 'young girl' attire and...WON a prize too! That is all i wanted to shout to the world! :-D

Today is project outing day and i am the party organiser (hear! hear!). I made badges for everyone in the team with a picture to highlight their "other" side...that meant having a badge made for me, with waves on it to mean 'my chatter doesn't stop just like the ceaseless waves ' :-D For my Pm, i made a bell to remark on the way he pops up every hour to scream "Time for KT...", "Time we re-worked our strategies...", "Time..."
Little Medusan came up with this wonderful rhyme as accompaniment to my "belling" the Big cat- 'The Haen' (my PM):
Ding Dong Bell
”The Haen” in the well…
Who put him in ?
Little Kumayee thin.
Who will pull him out?
Let him sit there and shout :-D

Friday, January 07, 2005

Apathy Chic(k)

It is Friday.
I am trying hard not to yawn.
'A Shot at Void' is only way out of this chasm. (Thanks Daddykins!)

I wish all fridays would transform to holidays as it is just absurd to fill an hour with significant tasks...
... all along mind, body and soul long to run and grab any passing wind in a fistful, buzz glad tidings to it and forward it to that soul who is in position to fly away to a distant land, far from this craving mind
...unmindful of many truths lost in translation
...a rainbow sans colours
...clinging onto a vision of a brightly lit world across horizons

Will I find that which I lost?

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Mile sur with Kannama...

One innocent man posted a question in my office Bulletin Board to enquire if any of Chennai’s FM channels played Hindi songs and if they don’t he wanted to know the reason for the same. Fair enough.
One good Samaritan replied to this saying that as Chennai had a large Tamizh speaking population, it is not commercially viable to play Hindi songs to cater to the minority section. The channels stood a chance of losing popularity.
There the matter ended. Or ideally it should have.
However, what I hadn’t bargained for was an avalanche of verbal mud-slinging exchanged in a public forum on how Tamizhians disrespect Hindi and how Hindi is the best language suited for poetry and how we should play Hindi songs in our local channels as it is our national language, blah blah blah.

Then it went on to say how Bangalore is growing as IT hub just because it “plays Hindi, Tamizh, Telugu, Kannada” songs to cater to the Techie public. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. I mean I feel patriotic enough to call myself an Indian and I do give our National Language the respect it deserves but why is there a huge divide between South and North?
North Indians branding Southies as the non-adjusting type and the South not to be left behind in this battle crying foul about the Babus who made Hindi the national language in a country where a thousand dialects/languages are spoken, where Hindi ceases to exist South East of Vindhyas as you enter a beautiful land of contradictions, aptly named as ‘Tamil Nadu’, where Tamizh is as Old as it can ever get, attaining Classical Status...

Somehow I could never understand this hue and cry. I must admit that I am no great fan of Hindi. But I don’t dislike it to such an extent to brand it as a useless language. Stranded for 4 years in a land where people walked, talked and breathed Hindi, I had no option but to learn it. If it weren't for “Bhaiyya Chaval!” I would be dead long ago!

I did have many an argument with my customized Array of ‘R’s (“arre yaar” :p) about the lovely nuances in Tamizh and they in turn enlightened me about Gulzar and Javed Akthar. So why is this junta in office so damn insecure with each other’s language?
I thought I will call them as kids for their immaturity but realized I would be insulting the kids…”My Daddy shtrongest” has deeper connotations than all this.

Yeah I can see that smirk. If they were foolish enough to argue about it I must have been even more of a fool to dedicate a blog to it…

But then you see I love this:
Duaon main dam hota to tum hamare hote..
Kise khushi ki kwahish hai ab…
Magar zindagi na guzarti rote rote..

And I love this too:
Idhazhgalil muthamidu endren
Muthamittal -
Avaladhu lipstick ottiyadhu
En kayil irundha rojavil!

Translationof my rendition :
“Kiss me on my lips”, I said.
She did -
Her lipstick stuck to the rose petals
In my hand.

(in Tamizh lips and petals are synonymous! - Idhazhgal)

Sunday, January 02, 2005

Bear Hugs

'Twas the start of New year
And I got gift from cousins dear
A bear very fair
With loads of snowy hair

Teddy Bear - That too a snow-white one! (Which smart ass remarked Teddy bears aren't white? mine is!) The minute I unwrapped my gift I went "Cho chweet"...Dudezie and Ammukuts exchanged one of their trademark grins...I had been asking all and sundry for a teddy bear for years and finally I got my 24th Birthday present!
Amma's remark was "I am trying to get you married and you run around cuddling soft toys!" :-D

yeah yeah this is the time to marry bugbears and not hug Teddybears, but hey it's easier to find an adorable cuddles toy - Just lift them off the shelf! Wish the same could be done for hubby darling too :p

Anyways this is a wonderful way to start another sarees, new toys and a whole new year left to buy more stuff!

Three cheers for 2005!
and A Happy New Year to you All!