“It was not exactly love at first sight. But it turns out, it was love.”

Title – Dialogue from SATC 2

This Christmas brought with it a special gift for us.  A Puppy!!!!

He was a mere babe when he came to my doorstep. May be a day or two old. Almost mistook him for a big mouse. Surprise because there are no stray dogs in the locality we stay in, in Cochin.

We tried to get rid of him by leaving him outside the house and in a field behind my house. But due to some doggy GPS  inbuilt in him, he managed to find the way back into my backyard and eventually my heart. By now husband and I resigned to the fact that he will be a part of our household.

Husband and I kept trying to feed him with Dal, Rasam and rice, biscuits and whatnot, till we realized that he is too young a baby to eat any of these. Then began his Milk period. First  it was milk with sugar that he learnt to lick slowly and eat.

By now, both of us had promptly fallen in love with it, in spite of ourselves. That’s how this mangy cur had put us under his spell. This Shaggy, dirty pup would pull our heartstrings in a heartbeat and make us do things like I had never done in my life. Like scratch his ears and play with him thru the day and name him Shona, meaning “golden”. (His fur is sort of beige/golden. So I came up with this name all by myself. Yes…Yes…Very Clever)

It was heartwarming to see this fur ball running from nowhere the moment he hears any of us. Now he is a part of our household, still demanding time and attention from us. The only difference from the time he entered the house is that, now we are only happier, rediscovering a part of ourselves.

Shona – After a roll in the dried leaves

Twilight Zone Between Dreams and Reality

I saw her sitting on a stone bench under a tree with strange looking flowers. On the cold november evening when all the flowers were falling onto almost wet cold ground, she sat like a statue. Or so I thought, sitting on a cold stone bench myself watching another hazy evening melt into a dark night. It was strange, surreal even, two women, each distinctly different the other, sitting  alone on stone benches on a quiet evening.

She was wearing a white gown, if you can call it that. It was more of a flimsy singlet, falling just below her knees. Wrapped in layers and layers of thick sweaters, I wondered how she is not shivering to her death. She seemed oblivious to the chill in the air. Streetlight illuminating her features cast a yellow glow that seems to fit more in a cheap disco than here. She looked around like she was searching for someone and smiled. Not at me, but straight ahead. I looked around to see who she is smiling at. The  park looked emptier than ever.

She smiled to herself and stood up. Moved few paces in a walk that was more of a dance. Her eyes darted around like glow of little oil lamp in the wind.  I could see she was talking to herself. Like she was having an internal debate. Sometimes agreeing, nodding; others, disagreeing, shaking her head. Finally shaking her head several times, like she has done it so many times in different lives, but still not able to conclude.

A few minutes of quiet and then she tilts her head ever so slightly. Like listening to music played somewhere far away. Something like Solitary Reaper’s song. Then sways like she is waltzing to that music, just content to be with herself.

She does that walk-dance to the bench she was sitting earlier and sits quietly. Hugging her knees, she shivers ever so slightly. I almost consider walking to her and offering one of my jackets. It seems sacrilegious to disturb her in what seems precious time with herself.

We both sit quietly, few benches apart. There is no movement in the entire park. Like someone just took an invisible remote control and pressed pause to the entire world. As I sit, mesmarized, i see a lone tear escape the corner of her eye.  Of happiness or sorrow, I cant tell.

A van pulls up with an eerie screech somewhere. Few men, dressed in white as well, suddenly grab her from behind. As I tried to go near her, the man supervising this warns me that she is certifiably mad. They are taking her back to asylum. I just stare at her when at last she turns and looks at me. Into my eyes.

Suddenly the entire circumambient noise melts away. The entire world melts away. Its only her and me in a vacume. She smiles, walks a few steps towards me in that slow dance of hers. I ask her, who she is. Without saying those words. No words are needed.

She said, I am but a figment of your imagination. Your dreams. Your Insanity. Your Happiness. One half of your choice. Your choice between insanity with happiness; or sanity and wisdom with despondency. your choice between chaos in the outer world, or calm in your inner world;

I blink against the chilly wind, when I open my eyes, I am sitting alone on a cold stone bench in that gloomy park.

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone

I grew up on a healthy dose of books. I remember asking my mom to show the pictures in the comic strip series from her Kannada magazines and asking her to read them for me. Books always held this fascination for me.

Every time I go into a book store, I experience  Nirvana. People who come out shopping with me are aware of this and take extreme measures to avoid bookstores.

Although I started reading fairly early on, I did not get to read any English books for entertainment or pure joy of reading till I was almost eighteen. That is probably because English was not my first language and I wasnt quite comfortable with the language for a long time.

So, my Enid Blytons were read at the age of eighteen, followed by Nancy Drew series and Hardy boys and such. That probably explains my fascination with anything simple and has childlike innocence to it. I have read and re-read William Blake, Robert Louis Stevenson, Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain etc, multiple times; each time the book revealing a new facet of its characters, some hidden meaning or changing my own perceptions.

I remember reading “The Treasure Island” opened a new world to me. However the one that makes me go nostalgic is a poem by RL stevenson called, “Sing me the song of a lad that is gone”. There are times I feel like resigning to my adulthood and go back to being a child again. This poem embodies all that whimsy.

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,

      Say, could that lad be I?

Merry of soul he sailed on a day

      Over the sea to Skye.

 

Mull was astern, Rum on the port,

      Eigg on the starboard bow;

Glory of youth glowed in his soul;

      Where is that glory now?

 

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,

      Say, could that lad be I?

Merry of soul he sailed on a day

      Over the sea to Skye.

 

Give me again all that was there,

      Give me the sun that shone!

Give me the eyes, give me the soul,

      Give me the lad that’s gone!

 

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,

      Say, could that lad be I?

Merry of soul he sailed on a day

      Over the sea to Skye.

 

Billow and breeze, islands and seas,

      Mountains of rain and sun,

All that was good, all that was fair,

      All that was me is gone.

 

 

Its one life, make it large

I am a big girl. Literally and Figuratively. That means, everyone who sees me has an opinion or a question about my size, my eating habits, my should-be diet, my exercise plan and in my pre-wedding days, who my husband can be, because he is also, Lo and Behold, Fat.

Over a period of time, I have kinda gotten used to these well-meaning (?) people conferring their unsolicited advice. Or so I think, until someone comes along and makes another one of those comments, which sometimes infuriate me, sometimes amuse me and sometime thoroughly exasperate me. Most of time it’s a combination of two or all of the above.

Now, if you are fat, and want to become thin or if you are fat, don’t care either way, you will understand the below statements.

• People on the road, who wear these weird badges “LOSE WEIGHT NOW and ASK ME HOW” or carrying little pamphlets that promises wonder drug for weight loss, think you are a beacon in the dark and find you somehow. They manage to thrust a pamphlet at you in traffic light, crowded buses or any family vacation.
• Your eating habits are everyone’s concern – You will see your friends frowning at an occasional chocolate or a piece of paneer. Of course Aloo is a taboo word and its blasphemy to enjoy pizzas. Hey, you are fat remember??
• You will get exercise and fitness regimen tips from everyone – You will be surprised, your neighbourhood granny can suggest you to visit VLCC or some such slimming centers, while your friend suggests Yoga, and of course there is gym and power yoga and astanga yoga and pilates and aerobics and water aerobics and whew
• Slimming secrets – weird ones that will make you want to throw up the moment you hear them – like drinking cow’s urine every morning. Then there are some sure-fire ways to lose weight, like soak fenugreek seeds and drink water in the morning, No No, you must try honey and warm water, actually no that doest work, you must have this Japanese technique of having 4 litres of water every morning in 15 mins.
• People who find you CUTE – The most irritating of all. They marvel at your stubby fingers, calling them cute. They want to pinch your cheeks, because, you are sooooo cute. They want to slap your arms, its so cute. Now these are the people I find most annoying, while I smile politely at them, I am devising torture methods in my dreams.
• People who want to know what you eat – If tall girls hear “ Hows the weather up there” every two days, fat girls hear “What DO you eat?”
• Aunties and Grand mommies in the family make it their business to look for a Fat Boy for you, if you are still not married. I have lost count of how many times I have heard “He is the perfect Boy for her, because he is also fat”. True, that’s the only compatibility factor. (But the truth is Fat Girls DO.NOT.WANT.TO.MARRY.FAT.BOYS and I am sure it’s the same other way round)

 Okay, That’s all I can remember off the top of my head. All you other plus sized girls, anything I have missed?

 I was feeling quite bad about being fat, till one of darling friends told me that, fat girls are fat, because they need more place for their big hearts and bigger brains..So, if you are plus sized, More Power To You Girl.

Trust in god, Lock your car

Quite an interesting advice – that one. I have been re-reading all my old Readers’ Digests (again..Yes), and recently came across this wonderful set of nuggets of  Wisdom, that a father wrote to his son who was leaving for college. They are so easy to do, yet so profound in thought.  It’s written by H. Jackson Brown in the “Life’s Little Instruction Book”. Who can resist falling in love with instructions that  tells you to ”Call Mom”. It was in the July 1994 edition of RD.

So I was wondering if I were to give instructions to my little sister, what would I tell her?  Here’s my own “Life’s Little Instructions” for my little princess..My true Joie-de-vivre.

1. Wake up early. You will be surprised how good you feel and you will accomplish much more.
2. Patience is a virtue. Indeed it is. Don’t lose it.
3. It takes  wisdom to do the right things. Takes courage to right the wrongs. Takes serenity to accept what you cannot change. Pray for these.
4. Say graces before every meal.
5. Play with a baby.
6. Never underestimate the power of good sleep, healthy food and good exercise.
7. Hate is a strong emotion. It burns you more than the person it is directed at.
8. Forgiveness is divine. More importantly, it cleanses your soul.
9. Family comes first. Michael Corleon wasn’t wrong then, he isn’t now.
10. We are defined by how we treat people. Be nice to salespeople, thank your cabbie after every ride.
11. Spend less than you earn. Always. Never spend in anticipation that you will earn more.
12. Donate some money to your favorite cause every month/year.
13. Always remember – you wear clothes, not the other way round.
14. Don’t be afraid to admit your mistakes. It makes you a bigger person.
15. Pray – Everyday.

Festival of Flames

I have always loved photographing objects and people. I remember pestering my mom as a kid to buy me a camera. Of course, we couldn’t afford it then. I bought a basic Kodak analogue camera as soon as I started working for about Rs. 1000 or so. But soon I realized that it is extremely expensive to load films and get them developed, so it sorta didn’t take off as well as expected although I did click loads and I still have pictures to show that.  

My second innings with photography started when I bought myself my MotoRazr V3i. I know, its not a camera. It’s just a mobile phone, with measly 2 mp, But during my girlie trip to Ooty and Kodai with my Cuz, I took some really great pics with it.  It became my life’s mission to buy a digital camera after that.  

Of course, I still couldn’t afford it.  But when we moved to our new house, I had decided to buy a new digital camera even if it killed me financially. With that new resolve, I became a proud owner of my Olympus, FE 210, 7 mp, 3X optical zoom camera. I was in love with this tiny silver gadget. I still am, darling, even though I have become a proud owner of another Casio, 14 mp, 4x optical zoom, so-compact-it-looks-like-a-mobile-phone camera.  

With my new Point and Shoot, that’s exactly what I did. Pointed and Shot. and took some great pictures. of my family, friends, stuff that liked, stuff that disgusted me, everything. Some of them looked different, some really bad, some fairly decent, even if I may say so myself. Few of my friends who saw the pics kept pushing me to enter those in competitions or exhibitions. However I was not confident enough to do anything of that kind yet.  Having said that, I decided I will rush my pictures to one of the competitions, if not for winning, at least to get the feedback on the pictures.  

Before I bought this camera, I was following the “In-Focus” photo contest held on company’s website for a long time. I would religiously go through these pictures and read the photographers’ views and dream that one day I will feature there. Not an easy task, mind you, since every month there were hundreds of photographs sent for this competition and those that won or got honorable mentions were absolutely brilliant pictures.  

To my utter amazement and delight,  I received an e-mail stating that I was the winner for April 2007. Whoa..I just couldn’t believe it. They were featuring my picture on the company website and an article on my techniques(huh?).  I also loved the name they gave the picture; “Festival of Flames”  

Picture of a torch that was used to light the oil lamps in the entire street on a November evening. The fire, dark clouds, November wind and the twilight made an enigmatic combination.Whaddya think?  

Festival of Flames

 Here is one more i took in of the same object. These pictures are not manipulated.  

Fiery Beast

 

I find fire very soothing and love the shapes they create.   

P.S – I am not a pyromaniac   

Conversations with God

I am not a Christian and we don’t have the concept of Confessions in my religion. But this weekend I did have an imaginary conversation of sorts with the Lord.

Me – Father, forgive me for I have sinned.

Lord – (In a tired voice) Okay Child, What have you done This time?

Me – I broke a Vow

Lord – Your marriage Vow?

Me – Not really. A Vow to myself that i will make my life a little more organized. That i will lose 10 kg in 3 months. That I will not binge. That I will handle my finances a little more wisely.

Lord – Phew..How did you break them?

Me – Lets see..5-6 impulse shopping trips last month..My CC bill must have gone up to where you are sitting.  Being Gluttony throughout the month – I just polished off a nice big bag of cheesy nachos and My room is such a mess that i cant seem to find anything i need without searching for at least 20 minutes. Is there a penance for all these sins?

Lord – I am afraid not. Even Lord cannot forgive certain Sins

Me – But I said “No” to that yummy halwa at lunch yesterday, I also dint buy that lovely white skirt that fit me like a dream(But cost a fortune too), and I helped mom cooking (Lord is disintegrating slowly, not paying heed to any of  my pleas)

Etched in Stone

V is in town and I am milking it for all its worth. Enjoying my little trips with him to all our family members, immediate and extended. One of the first things we did when he came back to town was visiting my Mom-in-law. It also coincided with a felicitation ceremony that local Rotary Club had for my Sister-in-Law. She is one of the bravest women i know and more about her in a future post.

On the way back from MIL’s on Sunday, V decided to take the Chikmagalur route, instead of our usual Shimoga route to Bangalore. My Brother-in-law, our niece and us visited Belur and Halebid temple towns in Hassan district on an impulse on the way.

These temples were built in early 1100s by the then ruling  Hoysala dynasty. The main deity of Belur temple is Chennakeshava, while in Halebid is Shiva.

A salute to the sculptor of these beauties who immortalized the ordinary stones as works of art. To take pictures in these two temples are a challenge though, as you will be baffled about where to look and what to focus on. Each centimeter of temple is a masterpiece.

The broken statues and magnificent ruins stand testimony to the invasions and plundering done by foreign invaders over centuries.

       

 

      

Temple Corner

                        

Intricate work

Stone Pillars inside the temple - Each pillar has a different design

Stone rings on a pillar - Each ring is a different piece thats put together to look like one single unit

Corners of the outer wall

Corners of the outer wall

 

 

Each panel has different design

Stone Flower

  

Kalyani

At the sides of the temple entrance

  

At the sides of the temple entrance

Pillars outside the temple

Outer walls of the temple

The Big Bull – Wasnt able to capture this in a single frame

  

        

At the sides of the temple entrance

  

At the sides of the temple entrance

Here are some pictures that I took from the new Casio EX- Z5550, a 14 MP compact camera. I am in love with this tiny friend of mine, as it is soo easy to carry, like a little oversized mobile phone.  

 

Our Tryst With Destiny

Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore

First image that flashes my mind when i think about Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore is the picture of a visage with a long white beard, something like prof.Dumbledore from the Harry Potter series. This kindly face is the home to one of the most brilliant minds in the history of mankind. A nobel prize winner for literature in 1913, he has written books like “The Wreck” and “Gitanjali” (For which he won his Nobel Prize). Who can forget the heart warming tale of a young girl and a dry fruit seller in “Kabuliwala”.There are some of us who believe that Nobel commission honoured themselves by selecting him for the Nobel Prize.

So beautiful were his poems, they gave rise to a new era in music called “Rabindra Sangeet”.

Here is a poem stuck in my head for a long time. 

Our Tryst with Destiny

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
by narrow domestic walls;
Where the words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening
thought and action–
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father,
let my country awake.

What a prayer!!! Every sentence in this poem gives me such goosebumps.