Chai and certain mild things

It’s been a while since I blogged and probably aeons since I blogged about anything even remotely sensible. I no longer have the crutch of being “busy” since I’m living the blessed jobless life of a student of Manipal Institute of Communication now. Also gone is my favourite excuse of not having a laptop. Hence this blog must once more be revived and its poor readers once more bored out of their sane minds.

In the midst of a hurried shower today, which by the way was interrupted because I had to run out half dressed and dripping wet to open the door for my injured and disgruntled housemate, a brief random memory of riding through Annanagar in Chennai came to mind. Just a simple stray wisp of memory that strangely caused some twisting in my gut. Throughout the day that feeling of slight emptiness lingered in my head. Of the things that I long for most about home, some come to mind more readily than others:

1. Waking up to Amma’s/Dad’s tea in the morning
2. Amma’s cooking (even the mixed vegetable I used to give her hell for)
3. Watching reruns of Mallu movies we’ve watched a hundred times with folks and fighting over which rerun to watch
4. Sharing family gossip while Amma folded clothes
5. Groaning and fussing when Amma would try to trick me into cooking dinner
6. Acting mad around Amma and driving her up the well
7. Putting on “the face” when Dad would feel very talkative and start advising on life
8. Weekend dates and endless 10p per minute calls with Flintstone
9. Spending hot afternoons in Ashwita café quietly on the couch in the cool semi dark room watching Hogan Knows Best and shaking our heads in disbelief
10. Marina, Besant Nagar and Thiruvanmiyur beaches
11. Riding on East Coast Road and hanging on to my oversized helmet for dear life while attempting to have a conversation with Fred
12. All “special” lunches and dinners
13. Cooking for Flintstone
14. Riding through Mylapore when no definite plans were available
15. Taking pictures in all obscure postures in public oblivious to amused onlookers
16. Trinayan
17. Photowalks
18. Going to plays
19. Fighting with dear bro over the computer like juvenile fools


I also realized that I’d begun to be a bit of foodie when I left Chennai. Kolkatta Chaat in Spencers and Tibbs frankies appear in tantalising forms in my dreams. Little Italy’s lasagne, The Crown’s sizzling brownie, vegetable biriyani and birthday cake, Mint’s masala papad starter, Diesel’s nachos, Bay Leaf’s Bengali cuisine, Sinful Something and French Loaf’s yummy pastries and cakes, Shri Mithai sweets and savouries….sigh…..I could ramble on but I know I must wait till I come home on a break again.

Until then it’s going to be living like a sardine in a tin can, missing breakfast every day, running past masturbating psychos while screaming, attending lectures half asleep, doing all assignments at 3am on the day of submission, bitching about people, missing Chennai and living off tea and certain mild things.

To teach or not to teach...

The Mahrashtra Govt has finally taken the well-traversed and obvious path and decided not to introduce sex education in school curriculum. It certainly isn't a surprise. On the other hand, it might've come as major news that the proposition was actually being considered. The news report that I was watching on the same subject was rather amusing to say the least, the amusement factor being the reactions of some MLAs who were asked their opinion on the issue.

Replies were standard. They all thought it was "wrong" ,"galat baat" etc. One MLA said we should be proud that we live in a country where mothers and sisters can walk alone on the roads at nights without fearing for their safety and that if sex education were to be implemented, it would turn the country into an unsafe place. Poor man seems to be suffering some hallucination. I mean, who hasn't heard of how Mumbai, which is supposedly the safest ciy for women, is also becoming rather dicey what with stories of rape and molestation being flashed by the media every now and then. Another gentleman said that considering that students are complaining about teachers who behave inappropriately with them and make sexual advances, if teachers were also made to become "sex gurus", it would ruin educational institutions.

One can't help but wonder why on earth these so called leaders and representatives of common man go through the actual syllabus content before deciding the effect it will have on society. Paranoia about a sex education syllabus thats called "Kamasutra for Kids" (LOL!!!) is much more understandable than just jumping on the mindless bandwagon of going about and calling sex education wrong, evil, immoral and other such cliched adjectives.

According to one MLA, the knowledge has been previously imparted in schools under the name of Adolescent Health Care (or something to that effect). So is it all in the name? I suppose the name could have a lot to do with the extreme reactions. I mean one can't exactly expect leaders who can barely read English to understand content to judge how appropriate or otherwise it is. To them, I suppose sex education would comprise only of how to do it and different "fun postures". Also the gentleman who was aginst "creation of sex gurus" must've imagined that there would be practical classes. What bullshit!

Its high time people started to look around and actually understand where kids get their knowledge from. Would you rather have your child learn about sex from racy shows on TV, hardcore porn on the internet, porn literature, misguided peers, or worse, their own fumbling experiments? Or would you rather prefer that they were made aware of the concept objectively?

I suppose it's rather pointless to expect objectivity in this issue from a country that prides itself on its foolish prejudice. "It's against our culture" apparently. For the people from the land of the Kamasutra to actually go about swearing by immaculate conception and deem any physical contact as immoral and vile is more than a huge truckload of prudishness I must say. And if immaculate conception is the reason why our dear nation is bursting at the seams with the burgeoning population, well it doesn't seem to be doing much good.

To all of you who are ready to find the nearest heavy object and whack me with it for "propagating the cause of immorality", hold your horses for just a minute. I completely agree that the fact that we live in a society necessitates that some amount of censoring is necessary. Nobody's exactly saying we want to hump people in the middle of a busy intersection or teach kids to do it. Just the approach to the entire thing is rather disturbing.

It's not easy to change the mindset of an entire nation but it's high time that people were encouraged to treat the sex education thing from a scientific perspective. It would make a world of difference if children were told about it like the functioning of some machine. If its okay to teach them about how excretion works in the human body, why not approach sex with the same objectivity and also explain to them in detail the risks that come with it? Youngsters need to know about how AIDS, premarital pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases etc ruin lives. They need to be taught about how things could go wrong and end up affecting them physically and emotionally.

I know a lot of people would react to this by asking me if I would want my children to be told about this in future. Yes I most certainly would want them to know. How I choose to tell them and how much I tell them would be entirely upto my discretion but I'm convinced that adolescents will have enhanced strength of conviction to be able to say no when they know the risks and dangers and realize its not so cool after all, rather than hesitate just because mommy said its dirty.

Knowledge never hurt anybody. How it needs to be disseminated is worth debating but to me ignorance in this matter in today's day and age is definitely nothing to be blissful about.

Alright here's a quick update for those who'd like it.

I'm now officially unemployed. Now I'm part of an elite club consisting of M and me. For those interested to join, please hand in your resignations at work and contact us and you will be welcome with open arms to the Bored Brainless Bunch. We have a lot of interesting activities like repeatedly saying "so...wassup?", making regular declarations of varying levels of boredom...did mention "so...wassup?" ? Oh and yes if tactless muttheads ask you stuff like "you quit this one too?!?" with face-splitting grins, we will feel your pain and suggest some top-class cuss words you can use next time around.

Watched Juno recently while Fred walked in and out of the room cradling his new wireless router and beaming with something that looked like fatherly pride (software guys, sheesh!). Ellen Page has done a great job of portraying a smart-ass teenager who shoots off her mouth and delivers witticisms like a wise man belting out philosophies. It doesn't go into the normal melodrama that movies with similar storylines would tend to stray into (especially in Bollywood). I think the audiences have had enough of that. This movie treats the topic (teen pregnancy in case you didn know it) with an admirable balance of humour, which is neither crass nor forced, and seriousness. I particularly thought the innocence of young love, as well as the impulsiveness, was very well brought out.

Photowalk becoming something to look forward to every month :-) except that it'll probably fry us all up seeing that Mr Flintstone and I look like frazzled golliwogs after the last one. Thinking about a photoblog of sorts. If it ever materializes, it'll be advertised here first. So watch this space.

Finally finally read A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. Brilliant book. It's the first I've read of Hosseini's.Haven't gotten a chance to lay my hands on The Kite Runner yet. But judging by this one, TKR must've been quite something. TKR is an engaging read despite the fact that potrayal of the state in Afghanistan is terrifyingly realistic.

Other than that, I've been trying to avoid mum because she's all committed to the cause of giving me cooking lessons. Haven't always been successful. My poor family had to endure veggie vindaloo, stew, alo matar, soya curry etc on varying occasions.

My Gwammy is here :-) Very very comforting to have her around somehow. Maybe will elaborate in another post. For now, mum's getting that glint in her eye which means I'd better get outta her sight before she makes me cook something else.

Aimless Yammer

It's been a longish while since this blog saw anything even remotely resembling a post.As always I have the convenient excuse of "work" to provide when the truth is that I ended up focusing on the mundane-ness of everyday life too much and reached the conclusion that I'm not doing anything worth writing about.

Life has been quite active to say the least.Apart from working in shifts and playing my insignificant part in the endless soap opera of corporate life, I've been doing some financial planning, some relationship building, photography experimenting, mega loitering.....just being the restless person I've become.

My alma mater finally decided to organize our convocation. The invite found its way into my mail box (snail mail) last week.Accompanying the invite was an A4 size paper with do's and dont's printed on both sides.It started with the details like reporting time etc and ran into mind-boggling details like dress code, discipline (no clapping/cheering when students receive their degrees!), blah this blah that.By the time I was done reading, I thought my face would split wide open because of the grin the familiar instructions evoked.Added to that our faculty advisor also sent word through a classmate that we are expected to maintain complete "DISCIPLINE" (don't miss the capitalized emphasis).That consequently became the reason for quite an amusing discussion on an online community.The particular lady in question has this unforgettable way of pretending to be exasperated with her students and saying "Don't give trouble to me,girls!!!".I wonder if we'll ever stop being her "girls". She sure did get quite emotional on our last day in college.

So did all of us, the "girls".There was a lot of howling.Some couldn't imagine working/studying in a new place and the others were anxious as hell because of delay in finalising plans for the future.Looking back now,I think we've all done quite well for ourselves (me excluded) and its a little hard to believe that its been a year already.Was quite pleased to have A remark recently that I haven't changed at all.But thinking about it, I can see how we've all changed in little ways already.

The past year has seen us all trying to gain a foothold on the rocky terrains of adulthood (pardon the cliched usage).In the process, some of us have grown apart.Time certainly tests relationships.Only the strong ones with rock solid foundation and unfailing perseverance survive.That definitely is not easy to find and those who have some of that are pretty darn lucky.

The convocation should be a good time to catch up on news and gossip.A quick recap on fun times in the endless drudgery of being grown-up.After the convocation, we'll all go back to "the big bad world outside" again.Some more of us will lose touch, some will get married, raise families, construct illustrious careers...all of us will learn life's lessons.Only the memories of the three years and the parting tears that came after them will remain unchanged.

Pigeon Invasion

The scene of the crime.Location:Beside the television

The perpetrator: Mrs Susie George

Amma's proud collection :)

Mr & Mrs. George the Goofball

Wedding pic of Georgie and Susie :D

Notice how "shy came for Susie" :P

......

Blog update long overdue.Don't know what it is but just haven't gotten around to doing so.I notice that this space has become like a personal diary of sorts.Nothing along the lines of Bridget Jones though.Finally got my hands on a copy of the second part (The edge of reason).Was worth a read.Entertaining if nothing else.Kinda like those comedy shows on TV which you defintely wouldn't rate as great but you watch it because it makes you laugh anyway.

I'd made a lotta plans for this week since I'm off from work.However, all of them are down the drain along with the rainwater that been collecting from the incessent downpour.Bleagh.This confines me to home and gives my mum an excellent excuse to begin my "cooking lessons".

I'm bored bored bored bored bored.

If I could I'd just pack a backpack, some roadmaps, pile some music into my mp3 player, pick up a digicam, and go on a road trip.Not particularly in need of company.Just by myself.Just travel, explore, take my own time and not follow any hurried schedule.Connect with people who I know I'll never meet again.Read.Not keep in touch with anybody.Not answer any frantic calls demanding to know where I am and what I'm doing.Not be obligated to be at anyone's beck and call.Just coexist with the surroundings and absorb all that I see, hear, smell, touch and experience.Take a break from the noise in my head.All the insignificant worries that clamor over each other like a trough full of worms.I'd try and spend time with kids.They heal as much as they entertain.I wouldn't care how I looked.Wouldn't bother changing into contact lenses everyday, wouldn't line my eyes, wouldn't put on earrings.Just t-shirts, khakis, shoes,watch.Oh and deo (all important).Not care about what anyone thinks or says.Talk when I feel like, withdraw when I feel like.Just do what my gut tells me on a daily basis.Just be.

I see red.

It's a minute past midnight and here I am, sitting infront of my PC because one emotion floods my brain,not allowing me to sleep.That emotion,ladies and gentlemen,is anger.Pure,absolute,unaldulterated anger.

Here's a question.How much shit can a normal individual take in a day?I assume that our Creator endowed us all with the same shit-taking capacities.But how much crap is an individual willing to take?Therein lies the difference,my friends.

This world,I have effectively concluded,is filled up in most part by people who will do anything to get their way,to rub off some of their bad vibes on others,or just proudly display their absolute lack of a long-dead thing called courtesy.They will step on your toes,muck your face in the mud, drown you in a marsh,whatever.As long they go to sleep satisfied every night.

Now when one is a child,one mostly learns to "seek the goodness in everyone",which,by the way,is a complete load of nonsense.When one actually steps into the world and is on one's own,all the extremes of mean,crude,opportunistic,psychotic behaviour can be observed.

But what do people who don't even know each other get out of being downright rude?Please justify to me why a woman should be asked to delay her phone conversation with her fiance by the driver of her cab just because she requested for the volume of the cab radio to be reduced twice?Impertinence?Yes sir!You betcha!And please note that the woman in question had used the words "please" in her request, which had to be repeated only because it the volume was increased to ear-splitting levels again.

Oh and there is also this whole battalion of chauvinists who think its their right to look at and speak to women condescendingly,contempt and irritation punctuating every word they speak.

To say nothing of petty politics people employ to get to the top:"Oh did I trample you into the mud on my way up?So sorry but you know I think the colour of dirt really suits you.Cheer up,you'll get used to it."

People using me for their personal hidden agendas,taking me for granted,treating me like nothing,telling me what to do,bullying me.........I've just had it!!!!!!!!!

The journey to being an adult just chiefly comprises of learning to be as ruthless as the world around you.Period.And I think the last trace of my foolish naive attitude just flew out of the window.

Something I've always wanted to be told :-)

You Are 24% Girly

You are a pretty hardcore tomboy, and a very free spirit. Gender roles be dammed, you like to do things your way.

How Girly Are You?

Hear,hear....!!!

After much pleading and child-like pouting,
I hereby declare The Rainrider's birthday week (12-19 Oct) OPEN!!! :) :) :) The big day,by the way, is on 19 October.

Those who feel sweet enough to wish him may do so via comments to this post :)

Have yourselves a happy week!!!

Mmmmh,it's been a while since I posted anything.Not that there hasn't been anything to blog about.It's just that everytime I started writing,halfway through I'd lose interest and leave it unfinished.Consequently my google documents account has a lot of half-written unfinished drafts.Maybe I should just get clever and put them up as contests-"Finish the draft and win a prize....".Though I can't,for the life of me, imagine who'd want to finish my sentences for me.

Here's a whirlwind of an update:

• Worked nights all of September.It's been an eye-opening experience.I've learnt to value food and a good consistent healthy routine because...
• ...on one fine day,I had one of those dramatic faint-and-fall episodes at home.Result:doc prescribes 3 months worth of vitamin and iron supplements.Bleagh
• Went on a short weekend getaway types to Pondicherry before that with Dad,Mom and Amit.Want to go back again.
• The Mal family and the TamJ family have been exchanging sweets lately...Kaju katli and Nagapattinam Halwa.Sweet Business,that.
• 3 birthdays went by.Amma got two sarees, Dad got Peter England trousers and C-ma was wished over conference call and ended up with confusion about what I was doing with her nephew after a night shift

Yesterday was "catch-up on your chores" Sunday.After a really longish break, I managed to oil my hair before washing it as opposed to the usual run-in-shampoo-condition-run-out routine with Amma's yells trailing behind me accusatorily as I run off to work with wet hair tied up.

Spent some time with T and expressed deep dislike for his maidservant.I must've sounded like Amma when she goes off on her ranting trips about our weird maid with kleptomania;my reasons,however, were completely different and extremely scandalous.

We ate lunch at Subway yesterday.As always,there was one difficult customer making everyone in the queue behind her pull their hair out.Madam arrived in a car,stepped out on her stilettos and firmly ordered her boyfriend to "stay there" while she gets their takeaway.The guy must be stupid or henpecked or both because he actually parked the car and followed her in.Grave mistake if you ask me.He would've realized yesterday how crabby and whiny she can get at the same time.But like I said maybe he was stupid so maybe he's the kind who says stuff like"She's so assertive and aggressive....I love aggressive women you know?" *wink-wink* Bleagh.

Anyway back to our story....not that there is much of one here.Madam placed her orders and gave the already confused new staff an even harder time as she kept complaining in extremely high pitch about how she didn't want olives added, or cheese, or this or that.My God!!!Oh yeah she said that too."Go-hod!" with nose in the air and eyes rolling.Kinda made her look like she was having seizures,that over exaggerated eyeball movement.The S & H boyfriend, meanwhile, stood very close behind her for a while and when she started yelling, quietly went to the nearest chair and sat down.When it finally seemed like the order was getting around to being ready he stood beside her again and sympathetically enqured what happened."They screwed up my sub" was the anguished reply.Stupid woman.

On the other hand, T sweetly assumed his duties of deciding on our orders (he knows I can't order food even at gunpoint) and patiently answered the befuddled questions the newbie staff asked about toppings preferences.What would I do without him.

As we chomped into our respective subs, we watched a little girl who by all means was a dynamite in the making.She entered hand-in-hand with her father loudly exclaiming that he didn't give her time to wash her hair.Jaws dropped."She scares me",T said.Her father ordered and while they waited,the mite ran around her table scrunching up the menu pamphlets and throwing them at her father.The patriarch caught her, grabbed her close and did funny antics to make her laugh repeatedly.It was a really sweet laughter I thought.

"She sounds like a ringtone", T said reaching out to take a paneer cube out of my sub.

When the girl's food arrived, she took one look at her plate and loudly said "Baba I won't eat this!"

"Why dear?"

"Because I don't like it."

"You must finish it, it's good for you."

"Wait till I tell Mummy!"

Somehow, he managed to coax her into eating quietly.T, his sub finished, took a leaf from the girl's book and pleaded child-like for an iced tea.It was a complicated manouevre which involved me leaving my half eaten sub and walking all the way to the counter to get it.A few mock angry glares later, I fetched the drink.The girl had finished her food and was now running around pausing at tables and peering into faces of its occupants.

At one particular table, she gazed at a baby. The baby's grandma smiled at the girl and asked her if she wanted a baby.

"I already have one" was the reply much to everyone's amusement.

Kids are such sources of amusement.They put a smile on your face no matter what.I watched as the baby's father joined their table and bent down to kiss the baby's head gently before sitting down while his wife smiled at him lovingly.I turned away from the intimacy of the moment to look outside.A ragpicker passed by with his baby son in his arms wrapped in a cloth.The baby playfully whacked his nose and squealed.The ragpicker laughed and for that one sweet funny moment he might've forgotten about the miseries of his existence.

Sunday's here.Yay

It's 7:30AM on a pretty nice Sunday morning.As I write this post Elton John's Tiny Dancer plays on Winamp.I'm also downloading some stuff I heard on The Rainrider's ipod.

We went to the beach yesterday morning after my shift got done at 6:30am.I'd lost it the night before, snapping and snarling at every poor soul who dared to cross my path.The victims:Amma and The Rainrider.They understandingly put it down to lack of holiday and stress from doing night shifts.I decided that I just had to go to some place thats open.Nothing more soothing than sitting by the sea quietly, just watching and hearing the thoughts that go round and round in your head.It's almost as if one was taking a step back from the mad melee of life and choosing just to be an observer.Typical of me to like that kind of thing.One can't take rome out of the romans I suppose.

So we went.Him all grumpy and befuddled with sleep and me unable to stop grinning like an idiot because at that time, riding and listening to music seemed to me the best thing in the whole wide world.The wind blew my frshly washed and conditioned hair in all directions and I closed my eyes letting it caress my face.Rainrider's ipod was plugged in my ears and as I listened I realized how much I've come to love Simon and Garfunkel in recent times.Also realized that I miss good music so much that it is almost a physical ache.

We didn't spend too much time on the beach.Hardly any infact.Except for the few minutes that he went running behind couple of pigeons armed with his trusty canon powershot, leaving me to watch a boxing class in progress. I marveled at how one tiny little thing who was just as tall as the master's knee kept going smackety-smack pulling out his punches.Kids are such reservoirs of energy.They'd put a wound up spring to shame.

I woke at 5:30AM today unable to sleep.The night shift is leaving my body quite confused.It is also teaching me to appreciate the little things that I take for granted.Sunrises and daylight make really glad to be alive these days.So does a good restful sleep.

I wrote a little bit after I woke.The morning cool just as the sun rose felt positively delicious.It's nice to be awake when my family's up and about.And like I've said a thousand times before,there's something magical about a sunday morning.The world just seems a lot more relaxed and laid back.Rewinding after a week's worth of work might just be the thing that everyone's most grateful for.

I long for all the sundays from childhood.After waking up I'd switch on the tv and watch "Rangoli" on Doordarshan at 7AM and watch all the hindi movie songs.Amma would have to do much prodding to get me to brush my teeth.Then it would be back in front of the TV with my bowl of Bonny-mix,watching whatever cartoon prgramme my brother would happen to be watching.Shame they stopped manufacturing it.Shame I don't get to spend enough time with those I want to.

I've a couple of things to be taken care of today.Eyebrows need shaping badly,need to buy amma's birthday gift (her birthday's on wed),need to get 'finances in order', need to get around to organizing a weekend getaway.I also feel like making lunch.

Despite a bad headache,I've a feeling it's going to be a nice day.

Morose

It's 3AM and I'm at work, halfway through an eight-hour shift that runs from 10.30PM to 6.30AM.I'm feeling unusually hungry today.But somehow I just don't feel like stepping outside the team area to go to the canteen and eat.First of all, I really can't bring myself to like the canteen food.Secondly, going out now would mean seeing the darkness outside albeit through thick glass windows.For some reason, thats not a sight I want to see now.

The mall that houses my office is all shut down and dark as well.Darkness somehow reminds me that while I'm here, my loved ones are all fast asleep at home, secure in their respective slumbers.Here I am at this obscure time of the night fighting all the anxiety that's knotted in my chest.How I wish I could go back home and crawl into bed and under the covers.It's funny how much I love my bed considering that it's actually a 'diwan' on which two very old foam mattresses have been placed.Infact I think the mattresses are more than a decade old.

A meeting is supposed to happen tomorrow.Not the official kind.I might have preferred the official kind.It's got the significance of being a step towards "building my life" as my mum calls it.And now at the very last hour,I find myself wringing my hands in sheer restless apprehension.Some unexpected regressions in what Fred and I planned are sending us down the road to hysterics.

Also I'm fast approaching a deadline and I've made hardly any progress and I'm really disappointed with what I've managed to do so far.Not like I'm able to make any difference to that either.

Baba once jokingly called Amama "Mrs Vepralam" which literally translates to mean Mrs Anxiety.Looks like that trait has been generously passed down the lineage.

I'm tempted to call the rainrider just to talk.But slumber is such an essential requirement.Especially when one's stressed out and upset.I don't have the heart to wake him.

Also toyed with the idea of calling Amma.That would alarm her.Given the way her BP has been fluctuating like India's performance in international cricket, I'm pretty sure she'll freak out.Especially if I tell her that I called to say I'm feeling kinda lonely.

So I've decided to stick to my desk and chair in the corner and count the minutes.

Highway of sadness...

I travel to work by the same route every afternoon.Yes,afternoon.I've been on the afternoon shift all this month and that gave me the chance to do a lot more people-watching on the way to work.In the morning shifts,it wasn't really possible considering that there aren't too many people out on the streets at that unearthly hour.Also I'd spend that 20-minute ride pulling my eyelids apart at regular intervals.But now,however, the city is halfway through it's day by the time I start mine.

There are two sights I come across everyday.A female beggar with a bad leg is one of them.I'm not quite sure what is wrong but her left leg is always in a cast-like covering,from the knee all the way down to the ankle.And she moves around with a crutch.A cynic's impulse would be to consider her a fraud who begs from sympathetic people.But somehow I can't really bring myself to think of her that way.It will be apparent why,when one takes a look at her face.Her eyes are always dull and she constantly wears a look of misery.She also contorts her face in pain frequently.

The other is a beggar on the pavement just outside my offfice.He looks like he has serious malnutrition issues.He is painfully scrawny and his back is badly bent.I've never found the courage to look at his face or his limbs to see what state they are in.He has a stainless steel container that he uses to catch the attention on passers-by by knocking on the pavement.

Yesterday it rained hard in the afternoon.As soon as I woke from my 'power nap', the storm clouds gathered in a jiffy and within five minutes it was pouring.The rain God must be one heck of a cheeky blighter.After gathering my anti-downpour weapons (namely my brother's windcheater and Amma's embarrassing John's koda) I set off to work.

I saw her first.She sat under the Egmore bridge, seeking shelter from the rain.She wore her miserable expression and massaged her bad leg.I couldn't figure out if the droplets running down her face were the raindrops or her tears.

I looked around for the man with the bad back when I got close to the office.He wasn't there.The puddle water from the road kept spilling onto the pavement in murky brown waves.I wondered where he was taking refuge.

He was back today again at his usual place, knocking his container on the ground with an alarming clunk clunk.People stopped by sometimes to drop a coin into his container with a loud clatter.The others just walked on either out of indifference or out of a sense of helplessness that their meagre change was not a permanent solutions to this man's strife.A sense of helplessness that I can identify with.People give him change out of pity.But how much is that rupee or two really going to help him or others like him?If only there was something one could do to really lend them a helping hand that galvanizes them on their way past poverty.

This reminds me of an argument I once had with a friend.A heated argument with Abhishek whether "whatever happens is for the good" or not.Being the self-righteous bum that I was back then,I told him that I agreed with the cliched phrase.He reacted in apparent anger and said "what about the plight of the millions who are suffering around the world?" I managed to provide some weak,ineffective replies then but now the argument is vivid in my memory.

No,life isn't fair and I guess it wasn't meant to be that way.But as long as the scales are tipping in your favour,I suppose you might as well be grateful.

:(

I've a nagging suspicion that I've lost the ability to write.I haven't written any poems for AGES.
And when I do brace myself and sit down to write a couple of verses,all that happens is a few lines of immmature trash end up at the top of the page after which the paper is hastily crumpled and thrown away.Who'd want to treasure a reminder that screams "you can't write for nuts!!!".

I happened to read my last few posts and felt that each one was more mundane than the other.Caught up in the daily grind like the author.Also noticed with a broken heart that visits or comments to my blog have become a well rounded zero.PR has never been my forte so I'm not going to bother with the publicising.

Kinda reminds me of what Tim Allen said in an interview.When asked if humour was a gift or a talent anyone could develop, he said its a gift and he's always afraid that it'd disappear one day and he wouldn't know what to do.I know what he means.My 'gift' seems to have disappeared.

Solitude

Yesterday after a long hiatus, I ate a meal all by myself in a public place.

Though the new job and current set of colleagues are nice and likeable, I can't say the same for the office canteen.The food is uninspiringly boring and doesn't carry any traces of anything such as delicacy. Also a couple of us have the morbid fear that it's prepared in quite unhygenic conditions as well. Amma doesn't always find the time or good health to pack me dinner so I have to eat from work. However, the likelihood of me eating anything from the office canteen anymore is extremely low.

Thanks to T's habit of turning up at dinner to spend time with me, I've been eating food from either one of the food courts in Spencer's plaza. One has plenty of choice as far as food is concerned in the plaza but then again, continuous indulgence in the same might just have your pocket moaning after a bit. Together T and I sampled stuff from Pizza Hut, Pathankot, some north Indian place I can't remember the name of and our very own Saravana Bhavan, that God sent blessing to mankind - especially the kind from Chennai.

So yesterday I went back to Saravana Bhavan to eat dinner.And while I silently waited for the food to arrive, I had the opportunity to indulge in the long forgotten pastime of mine - people watching.

The mall was crowded. All kinds of people hung around in every nook and cranny possible. Large families of 18 or 20 members just stood in the middle of corridors blocking everyone's way.When they did eventually move, they moved as if they were underwater and to the unfortunate one stuck behind them, it took truck loads of patience and fervent praying before they shifted and stood in front of someone else in a hurry.Where there are large crowds, one can also expect the lewd and the lecherous.They made pathetic attempts to "impress" every female who passed by irrespective of her age.With such loafers, even little girls aren't safe.Some of them stood at strategic spots and gaped open-mouthed, saliva beginning to dribble down the corner of their mouths. And when one shot them a contemptuous look, the assholes would think they're being 'checked out'.Profound idiocy as never before.

The restaurant was crowded. I sat in a section that was a narrow corridor off the main area. The walls were tiled, giving one the overall feeling of sitting in a bathroom rather than a restaurant. As part of Independence Day celebrations, they had artists painting 'patriotic' tattoos on willing bodies. Couple of kids ran around the restaurant, absolutely gleeful about the flags they got painted on their faces. One fat little one waddled along and stopped short when he bumped into a waiter.The kid's nose was in contact with the man's stomach.He then slowly looked up into the man's face and got a kindly smile.The kid glowered at him, shoved the man aside and resumed waddling behind the other brats who were too fast for him anyway.

Just before dinnner arrived, I ran into a friend from school who I haven't seen in years.I got the "you've lost so much weight" dialogue again much to my pleasure.Two minutes later friend disappeared into the crowd and food appeared.In the course of dinner, I messaged Uncle and was thrilled when he actually messaged back and was indignant on my behalf that I was working on Independence Day.After some more quiet masticating and mulling over thoughts of the Rainrider in my head, I was finally through with my dinner.When asked for the bill, it was brought four times faster than the food itself.The change however was another story altogether.

On my way back up the stairs to work, I thought about how not very long ago I used to sit by myself at one of the popular cafes in the city day after day, reading or writing. I missed that solitude at that moment.The feeling of being part of a crowd,yet lost in private thoughts in my head.Maybe I should do that sometime again considering that I've found better places than that cafe to write in peacefully.....

"Oh where,oh where can my baby be...?"

Today feels like a disaster. It feels like the continuation of yesterday with a solid headache thrown in for good measure. The biological clock is amazingly resilient considering the fluctuating routines it’s going through at the moment. Of course, it’s not in such great shape, but hey I ain’t complaining. At least it’s still functional.

The Son and his Daddy are off on a holiday. Daddy needs a break from the daily 13-hour nonsense. So Daddy, who had a scruffy beard and longer-than-usual hair, got the Son all fit and handsome and both of them rode off.

Mommy on the other hand is wondering what to do with all the silence. She can’t call Daddy to say good morning, can’t message him frequently, can’t call at mealtimes, or talk to him at night. Mommy tries to fill her time by talking to other people and updating Grandpa about Daddy’s whereabouts but she can’t shake off the feeling of loneliness. It just hangs around her, catching her unaware and making her mouth droop.

This is the first time she has been away from them. She thought she’d make it through fairly easily. She thought they all needed a change. She knows now that she couldn’t have been more wrong. She throws herself into work but to no avail. There’s nobody to come home to and share gossip with. No one to pamper or speak to in Baby-Talk. Nobody to make fun of or fight with. Nobody to wrestle with playfully.

Her meals are solitary and perfunctory. She doesn’t really notice what she’s eating. The vegetables lie uneaten in her plate since there isn’t anyone to chide her into finishing them. She looks at the last bite sadly, wondering what Daddy is eating and remembering all the times he’s insisted on taking the last sip or bite out of whatever she’s been drinking or eating.

Everyone who even remotely resembles Son or Daddy catch Mommy’s eye now. Few more days, she tells herself. When she talks to her parents and Daddy is mentioned, she smiles wistfully in fond remembrance. Every time she puts her footwear on she remembers that she’d forgotten to give him the extra cushioning for his trekking shoes. She wonders how he’s getting by without them.

All through the day, she wishes she had gone with them instead of staying back. And at night before she falls asleep, she sends a silent prayer to keep them both safe and to pray that the rest of the wait is through in the blink of an eye.

Moojik and moi

Its 9:30pm on Thursday the 2nd of August,2007.No no this is not a bit of my life that is being recorded because it is of any historical importance.Its just that I'm hungry,bored and longing for the weekend.Dinner's not until 10pm and even then I've no clue if it'll be worth the wait.However, since I've got this far on a growling tummy, I might as well stick it out until 10.

I realized today that I've been listening to very minimal amount of music.And I hate that fact.Whatever little I listen to is courtesy rainrider's birthday gift to moi- a Transcend mp3 player with fm radio built in.The icing however was that it came with the rainrider's collection of classic rock.God bless the man.So whenever mum and dad think I'm doing something of earth-shattering importance inside my room, you can dead certain that Transcend is infusing life into me and preparing me to keep going for yet another day.

My love affair with music has been very humble.It isn't the dazzling,passionate kind.More like the quiet, life sustaining, undeniably essential kind.Don't get fooled into thinking that I come from a family of musicians though.The only person in my family who's learned in that aspect is my mum.She underwent vocal training in carnatic music for about 6 or 8 years and as a consequence she's the only one in the household who can croon without making other living beings in the vicinity wince.Dad's singing is used strictly as a tool for torture while bro's attempts can provide a good laugh every now and then.Then there's your's truly.I like to pretend that Amma's gift was passed down to me but the truth is far from that.And there are witnesses to prove it.

As far as vocal talent goes there have been the odd flukes when I didn't make people feel like they were being tortured for classified information.Then again there have also been the other instances.Here I recount all my embarrassing moments onstage in front of a microphone.

Instance number 1: Independence day celebrations in school.I was supposed to sing "Ae mere watan ke logon" whoch was originally sung by Lata Mangeshkar.I had a girl playing the keyboard for accompaniment.The practices went really well and all the hunky seniors said I sang "really great".Come the day of the performance.The chief guest talked till my mouth went dry and chose to let me sing just when I was all disoriented and grumpy with his speech.So I began.I couldn't hear the keyboard and the keyboardist couldn't hear me so we followed two completely different pitches.Musical chaos ensued.Except that there wasn't anything remotely musical about it.All the rude little brats in the first row stuck their fingers in their ears and screwed up their little faces.Princie winced every now and then and the chief guest maintained a stony face and nodded stiffly every couple of seconds.

Two minutes later I howled to a teacher vowing I'd never sing again while some more little brats sniggered behind me.

Instance number 2 : I was supposed to compere a show and sing a bit (I think). All went well except for the closing.I ended the show with a bang.And a crash.The mike stand was then declared to be hopelessly beyond repair.

Instance number 3 : Music auditions in college.I planned to sing "The way you are" by Shania Twain.Simple song.But when my turn came I did something weird in between, stopped, gulped and looked at D sheepishly.She very understandingly let me continue.Also made the mistake of shortlisting me.They then tried making me sing "My immortal" by Evanescence.Disaster and more pained and screwed up faces is what ensued.Thankfully that was in the practice sessions and I chickened outta singing it onstage.

Many more goofups are etched on my mind but if I list them all,this would be a post of epic proportions.

Then there was my dalliance with musical instruments.

Piano in Calcutta under Ms Anitha and Mrs Francis.They complained that I played too stiffly.But they couldn't see that it was because Tommy sat at my feet always and I could hardly breathe for fear of moving.

Keyboard in Chennai.Gave it up.Got bored with all the politics and all that.

Guitar from 11th grade.Hung around till I learnt the major chords (which took 3 months.The instructor was "throrough" types) and then quit.Since then once in a while when I'm bored or lonely I experiment on the guitar.I haven't gotten anywhere in terms of learning but I rather like the experimenting.

From what you read above,you would surely have realised what a bumbling disaster I am when it comes to music.But that thankfully doesn't diminsh my love for it.I need it to be a part of my everyday existence.I don't care what genre it is.I've adopted a "has notes,will listen" attitude.The lack of it now is like a huge crater in my soul that makes me irate and snappy.If only my 'aapees' would let us listen to moojiks while working (long sigh).

Morbid monstrosity

Its been awhile.And I'm recieving instructions from various sources to update my blog.

The only reason I've been avoiding it is because I can't seem to find something to blog about.Or rather too many things have been going on and I can't pick just one and blog about it extensively.I dont' want my blog to turn into a "Dear diary..." entry either.Hmmm....

One thing I 've been absolutely horrified about is the steep incline of crime rate against innocent children.The baby with 26 stab wounds, the kids being tortured at school with corporal punishment, the female foetuses found in wells and garbage bins, the mother who tried to drown her little children...I mean what really is the world coming to?!?

I cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of twisted fiend would stab a little, vulnerable, innocent baby boy.What was the moron thinking???Was it his/her idea of some recreation or some sort of outlet to psychotic thoughts???Whatever the answer, the incident shocked,disgusted and sickened me all at once.

It was quite disturbing to know that prejudice against female offspring still looms large all over the country.How can one engineer the gender of one's unborn child to make it suitable to one's whims and fancies?And why should the hapless and helpless child have to pay with her life for what is clearly the best example of society's idiocy?The standard response to why people shun baby girls is "a girl means added burden of saving up for her dowry.Besides she could get pregnant and bring shame to the family.Why have a liability when we can have a son who'll earn and bring the bread home?"To all of you who say that, where are you going to go when there'll be no women left to give birth to your 'precious sons'?This issue infact was excellently brought out in a movie called Maathrubhoomi.It was gory and almost repulsive but it conveyed the message with unforgettable strength.

Then there's the abandon-your-baby spree thats been going on in full swing these days.Reasons why the infants are abandoned generally prejudice against the baby's gender, lack of funds to raise the child, shame at bringing an illegitimate child into the world, anger at the child's father or mother(!!!) etc. In a hypocritical, narrow minded country like ours I think there's no remedy to gender prejudices.Its just bloody pointless.All the protests and movements that are planned make only a meagre change,if any.However lack of funds to raise a child stumps me as a reason to abandon one's own flesh and blood.If you can't afford children,why procreate?My father's answer to that was "sex is the only recreation poor people can afford".Right.There are products called contraceptives in the market, some of which have been made affordable even to the lower strata of society.Lets suppose the people in question can't afford those either, in that case, shouldn't they be looking for means to survive rather than throwing themselves at the first person who comes across?Its just irresponsibility at its worst.I'm probably being too harsh but why subject a child to a lifetime of misery just to get one night's worth of fun?

These sort of things anger me more than anything else.

Oh and other bizarre incidents include either one of the parents killing the kids because of "family feud".

Mankind's sensibility seems to have gone absconding permanently.