Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

CappuCheenu is here

Posted: July 26, 2017 in Uncategorized

Well, he made his way to this world last August and I am announcing it here after almost 11 months!

It has been the most wonderful 11 months of my life. Exhausting? Yes but in a good way.

First few weeks were spent in a constant blur of feeding and diaper change. Thanks to all the pregnancy hormones gushing through the body, I was such a emotional wreck. Once I burst into tears because I just couldn’t soothe the baby and recovering from C-Section just made me more dependent and that got me really frustrated as well. It took time to nurse him independently. For every nursing session,I needed my mom to get the baby to me or to place the pillows and then again to disassemble all of it once done.

I wish I had known that it was just a phase and things would get better soon.

By the end of second week, the pain subsided. That is when the sun came out and the bandages were ripped out. Ouch!And along with the bandages, slowly but surely, my self-pity hopped and skipped out of the window. Somehow looking at the scar and not the bandage melted most of my apprehensions.

I badly wanted to cling on to every yawn, sleepy smile and babble and devour it but then there hardly seemed to be any time. I had read so much about the first “social” smile and lo behold it happened. While those sleepy smiles always made my heart swell, the first smile

Around the four months mark, I distinctly remember the moment I realized that he was no longer “newborn”. I never knew that my-baby-is-growing thought would hit so soon. During one of our doctor appointments, I happened to see a newborn and remarked, “I don’t even remember him being so tiny!”. Yes, these moments are that fleeting.

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Bangalore

Posted: November 11, 2016 in Rants, Uncategorized
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It has been a decade since I moved to Bangalore. This is the longest I have been in any city so far.  Thanks to my dad’s work, we moved around a bit throughout my childhood and never actually settled in one place. I would open up and make few friends and before I realize, it would be time to pack our living and move on. I spent a good part of my teen years in Chennai. Though Chennai is close to my heart, it never felt like home. And even after being there for years together, I hardly know the place and I could hardly ever say “dho da” effortlessly.

Back in 2006, I was this excited but clueless 22-year old. Never did I think I would end up spending a good whole ten years in this place.There are so many ‘firsts’ associated with this place.  This is the very city where I met the dude.  This is where I first started living on my own with friends. That very first home which we still call ours.  Some of the lanes here remind me of the moments that I want to cherish forever. Those certainly are not the highs and lows. But the everyday trivial ones. Sometimes, I fear if these memories would fade away in to the oblivion if I stop revisiting those places.

I often wonder if it is time to call Bangalore home or how many more years it would take. I never had any qualms in being the `outsider` or to be called one.  But at times, I yearn to be a local of `some place`, to know it like the back of my hand, to root for  it. When such sharp pangs of yearning washes over me, I set out to do what I am best that. And that would be planning, obsessing over it like there is no tomorrow and then proceeding on to the grand finale – forgetting it all together. So my Kannada is still rudimentary, my kitchen is yet to be filled with the waft of Bisi Bela Bath and I am yet to shop and dine in older parts of Bangalore.

 

All is well

Posted: November 3, 2016 in Uncategorized
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Well, that would be me, whispering those three magical words in that rickety old heart of mine. It has been almost two years since I posted anything here. Now that I am finally back, I really have a lot to say. Or so I thought.  The most tricky part of returning after a hiatus is the comeback post – where do you begin? Well, you can’t just start yapping about yesterday or dish out few pearls of wisdom or go on about the vacation you had a year ago.  And my dear non-existent reader, that  is exactly why I took up NaBloPoMo(??!) – to write without a reason, to write about things of past, and to write for myself(and yes, for the stats too.).

Last two years were good. In hindsight, it all seems like one heck of a joyous ride.  There were times when I was deliriously happy. But if I prod my memory a bit, I can clearly recall the days I trudged through the unknown, with trepidation that was based on all stats that I had come across in the internet. At the end, everything turned out well. Looked like all I needed was a bit of assurance, a hug and those three magical words. I will come back and write more on this, eventually.

I certainly missed writing here. What kept me away? To be really honest, it started with plain laziness, then a bit of procrastination and as the wheels of time turned, I didn’t feel the urge.  Well, once again, for the umpteenth time, I hope to be regular on this blog.

The year that just flew by

Posted: January 4, 2015 in Uncategorized
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Well, I might tell this every year but 2014 broke all records, I think. The weeks just faded in a blink and before I knew it was December.  Being a hopeless eternal optimist that I am, I love this feeling of new year, new beginnings, starting with a clean slate and all that. And that is the precise reason why I don’t make any resolution.  This optimism is so sacred that I can’t let it be clouded with retrospection..

While 2014 was kind of the most uneventful year in recent times, here are is a miscellaneous list of moments and events that I want to hold onto –

It was the first day of 2014. We had just moved into our new house. The Bloke and I had spotted few kids around the apartment. They were quite shy in the beginning and then warmed up to us. But I could hardly strike any conversation with them and my broken Kannada just didn’t help. I happened to hand over few brightly colored sweets to them. While the elder ones ate it up with all glee, the youngest didn’t realize what it was. But she was delighted beyond words.  She threw it up in air and caught it. She kicked it, rolled it in mud and showed it to anyone who looked her way.  I am not sure what I felt – amused? happy?. I don’t think she would have been this happy had she popped it in her mouth. Few months later, a similar incident happened with a kid I met while waiting for The Dude. This time, it was a pink cotton candy in an inflated polythene bag.

The Bloke and I went on a trek along with few friends. No, not the kind of treks that last a couple of days or weeks. It took almost four hours to complete. I was quite close to quitting but then somehow I dragged myself to the top. The path was quite jagged with uneven stones and steep slopes and with dried bushes lining the way. As the sun ascended its way up and the temperature soared, I heaved and puffed. This trek kind of evoked mixed emotions in me. While I was happy about having finished, as I came down I couldn’t help noticing the spot where I was about to quit. It was so much close to ground. It wasn’t even one-fourth of the entire distance – probably one-eighth!

The first ever trip to Goa happened. Goa did stump me and it was so different from what I thought it would be and in a good way. Every time I am at the brink of falling in love with a beach, I go through major guilt trip. For a long time, Marina was the only beach I knew. It was the beach that made the sweltering heat more bearable and probably, the happening place in nineties and Sundays never got over without a visit to Marina. I think I was quite furious when I realized that The Bloke didn’t love Marina the way I did.

Well, this is the point at which I get to brag. I think I should hand out the “best baby-sitter” award to myself. The cherry on top was when I made my friend’s kid laugh his heart out. He would stop for a moment and nudge me to redo whatever I was doing to entertain him. Okay, I admit, he is a cheerful baby and anyone could have made him laugh that much. But I still get the award, okay?

And I turned 30 – the official get-your-pap-smear-test-done age and I happened to miss my birthday in transit. While I don’t crib much about my age, I don’t think I believe in all that jazz about age being just a number. That throbbing pain in the neck that i wake up with because I didn’t place the pillow right tells a different tale than what my mind would like to perceive.

ps: Yes, this is my symbolic “I am back” post.

Tu mera hero..

Posted: February 16, 2014 in Uncategorized
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/* Disclaimer

Some of my words may sound mustache-ist but that is not my intention. I am not trying to stereotype everyone who has a mustache. When I say mustached or mustache-twisting men, I am referring only to the section of men who foster a false pride in showing their superiority over women and in domination.

*/

The Bloke was at the wheel. He  drummed his fingers and took no effort to hide his impatience. Every other second, he swore. We were held up in a choking traffic and literally, didn’t move even  an inch. As is the norm in this country, a symphony of honks followed but thankfully, the glasses shielded us from the cacophony of sounds outside.  And just then magically, the notes from Roja filled the air. And hanging on to every syllable of the song, I remarked as a matter-of-fact, that how with the release of the movie Aravind Swamy had become a heart-throb.  Back then when this movie was released,  even in the small hamlet, Karaikkudi that lies overshadowed and concealed in the deep south of TamilNadu,   both Arvind Swamy and A.R Rehman created a buzz. Though, I was just too young to comprehend the movie,  the excitement over it and the actor was quite evident to me. The Bloke listened with such an incredulous expression.  “What is so special about him”, he asked.

Initially, I choked at his reaction. I stared and glared at him but then the traffic light turned green and we moved on. And so did our discussion.  But what was so special about Aravind Swamy or rather Rishi?  For a start, he was quite mellow and for once, the Tamil audience were spared of all the mustache-twisting activities  and of machismo overdose.   And for once, neither the leading lady’s tummy was used as a table-top and was left alone. Everything sounds bizarre? But that is how some of the Tamil movies of late 80’s and 90’s were  and as years rolled by and as the horror-struck me, every time I saw a waist, I prayed for it to be left alone. Yes, seriously.

So, you see, AS was that ray  of hope.  And this ray of hope  resurfaced every independence day. And sometimes on republic day as well! But what I liked the most was that he develops just a stubble at the end of the movie and not any twistable-moustache. And I quite liked the way how the leading lady take the reins and literally, carries AS at the end.

Few weeks back, a picture of AS went viral on FB. He looked quite worn out and aged with puffy eyes and double chin. With the charm of his yore lost, he looked just like a shadow of what he used to be. This picture was accompanied with a sarcastic message asking women if they still wanted a husband as charming as AS. Quite apparently,  this was shared, re-shared, liked and re-re-shared  by many of the moustache-twisting and moustache-less men, basically by all men. I saw red. Well, first the picture is a reminder of how atrocious time could be.  The picture is a proof of my twenty-nine minus seven years of existence. See, this is one reason why I like Rajini. In early nineties, when I was seven he was dancing with heroines half his age and now when I am twenty-nine, he is still dancing away to glory. And of course, with women half his age, if anyone cares to know.  He is one permanent fixture.

Anyway, I digress.  Apart from reminding me of my age what actually put me off was the understanding that everybody seemed to lack.  AS had more to him than just looks , I say. Yes, he had that bewitching smile that could bowl anyone over. But, to me AS was significant for what he wasn’t. He wasn’t a sexist. Period.   There I rest my case.

In nineties, every other actor was showing off his self-proclaimed machismo and rested the said machismo in taming the women and in her meekness. AS was different.  He wouldn’t flinch before going on his knees. He didn’t try to conform himself to the much hyped and stereotyped masculinity. It is just a movie, one may say.  One’s life may influence a movie but movies influence the society. There is no denial.

 

Hope and music

Posted: August 29, 2013 in Uncategorized

Hope and music springs in my washroom. Yeah, you read it right. We live in an old styled apartments which has a hollow shaft running through its length and the window of the washroom in some of the flats open into the shaft. Not a pleasant proposition, if you ask me but then every cloud has a silver lining and so does my washroom.

It all started a month back. It was just another Monday morning and I woke up grudgingly.  I stepped into the bathroom, expecting the blast of cold shower to fix my mood and spirit.  Yes, I am optimistic that way. Few minutes into the shower, I heard someone sing.  The sound of my shower drowned the lyrics. My curiosity was piqued. I turned the shower knob and listened intently.  The singer had a deep baritone and he was singing quite passionately. For the record, it was the song “Adhisayem (Ajooba?)”. Initially, I giggled. The turn of events made me feel a bit adventurous and sang few lines along with him. I did dream of a Jugalbandhi but then just a pause followed and then he again started from where he had left. Sigh!

Now, it has become a daily ritual to look forward to the “Shower song” and he is quite versatile and mostly sings my favorite numbers 😉 . And yes, our shower timings seem to coincide almost every day.  Sometimes, I try to put the face to the voice but then I guess ignorance is better and that way, I am left with just the song and my very own memories associated with it.  I was amused at how a familiar beat from the past could take you down the memory lane and leave you all elated.

It is not just me who is at the receiving end. The other day, The Bloke had a bad case of stomach flu.  He threw up the entire contents of his stomach. one look at it and anyone could very well reconstruct what we had cooked the entire day. Gross, I know. I told him there was nothing more to throw up and he could get some sleep. But then he was determined to throw up more and well, he did.  He popped a pill and I coaxed him but nothing helped. He threw up again and just when he finished, we heard voices(through the shaft, of course). Someone else was also throwing up. “His condition seems to be pretty bad. Looks like it is just seasonal?”, The Bloke said. I nodded. I totally didn’t understand  his reasoning. Actually, the fact that someone else in the building had the same condition was a bit worrying but the same thing seemed to make him think that it was trivial and he found solace in it. I let it be since he had changed his stance about throwing up all night and agreed to sleep. He woke up the next day, hale and hearty!

For all other times, when I hear someone brawl or fart, I turn on the shower knob and let the sound of water drown everything else.

House full

Posted: July 26, 2013 in Uncategorized
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My parents and the sister were here for the last weekend and within the 2 days we managed to visit few places around, savor few home-made delicacies, relax and we were also caught for going over the speed limit! In our defense, the road was empty and we had exceeded the limit by a very less margin. Sigh!

In short, we had this crazy weekend and here are snippets from the pandemonium.

Sis: *Dash*  *Daash* *DAAAAASH* (She was playing some racing game on The Bloke’s mobile)

The help (in her typical nasal accent): Kapdai hai? (Any clothes?)

Me (in an equally nasal tone): Aaaj poncha kar do (Today, mop the floor instead)

The Bloke (armed with a knife and papaya): Anyone ready to eat papaya? (Dude, no one is going to answer that question. You need to replace papaya with coffee!)

My mom (to me): Let it get steamed for 7 minutes. Only then, it will turn out soft. (Dishing out cooking instructions makes my mom happy. She almost makes it all sound like Sanjeev Kapoor show)

The Bloke: What is cooking?

Mom(with all smiles): Kolakattai, it is our traditional food.

The Bloke: Kolkatta?

Sis: Dash Dash DASH

Sis (Looks up for a moment): It is like Momos minus the filling.

(The Bloke is all confused and perplexed now)

Me:” It is like Akki ‘Idly’ rather than Akki roti!”, I assure him.

Dad(to my mom): Coffee podriya?

(Erm.. Roughly translates to “Will you make coffee?”)

The Bloke : Papaya, anyone?

Mom( to no one in particular): Did the maid sweep the floor?

Sis(Finally, giving up on the game): Uhhh…. She completed and left long back!

Dad: Coffee podriya?

Kolakattai was steamed, coffee was made and the madness continued! Needless to say, I loved it to  bits ( The madness, I mean).