Last post for this year

I began (in 2010) this blog hoping to get somewhere. It has always been like that. Everything I do has to have some purpose, some destination. Therefore I thought that blogging is not for me when I couldn't get people to look at my blogs. Blogs that I visited had hundreds of followers and comments. So I simply stopped blogging, not that I blogged like crazy. Interesting writing has always caught my attention and that’s how I came across Anuradha Shankar's travel blog "A Wandering Mind". I was blown away, but that which worked the most for me was Maaji's blog "Memories & Musings I & II" like she says she is a grandmother recording her memories for her grandchildren. What beautiful records of the past life. It is the writing part that holds me, beautiful language and clarity of thought and her memories which she is willing to share with the world, not just her family. Other blogs that interest me are "A Travel blog of an Indian Backpacker", Blogeswari, Gappa and others.

For some reason I wanted to read their blogs again and again and eagerly log on every morning hoping to see a new entry. Some of the blogs were lengthy, some just a line or a picture, which helped me understand that asymmetry, haphazard thoughts and confusion also make sense most of the times.  I began blogging, it was clear that realized it everything does not have to have  a purpose , sometimes mindless wandering and rambling also makes sense.

So here's ending this year's last blog by thanking the faceless individuals who helped me in many ways, thank you.  And lastly, HAPPY NEW YEAR. C, ya all next year.

Happy Tidings

For long now I had been waiting for the pigeons to return and lay their egg in our flower pot. Nothing could be wrong at least from my side. I remember when a brethren after years of matrimony was blessed with a child only to lose within a few months and soon again they were blessed with a cute bundle of joy. It was the same feeling. I don't know if it is the same pigeon who lost its egg 3 times before.

Anyway, I had been hearing the pigeons making that weir sound which I associate with procreation and was hoping to see an egg, and voila, Sunday morning there was this  6-pack dad perched on his egg fiercely guarding it. I only pray to the almighty that please let this egg grow into a healthy pigeon, a sign of life, very much needed. Just this Saturday we lost a young friend and it has been weighing down our minds, mom still hasn't come out of the shock and I was in the pits though was very philosophical about it. Seeing this egg was like the "Force" reminding us of the cycle of life nevertheless enforcing my faith in the mysterious ways of nature. Now every morning I check on the egg with the fierce dad getting agitated every time he sees me. It is a great feeling. woooooooow.

 Pigeon Update:  As of today 14/01/12 only one egg survived, primarily because of the crows who kept bothering the pigeons. Anyway today morning we had a surprise waiting for us a yellow & pink fur ball "baby pigeon". I managed to get a few pics. Here they are.

Update as of 22/01/12 on the lone survivor: Since these photos were taken the lone survivor seems to be trying to put up a strong fight only to be defeated last night. I found him squashed this morning. I think it was his parent who squashed it to death. The theory of Natural Selection is at work here.

RIP friend

Living in apartment buildings in one of the many cozy localities in Mumbai is one of a kind experience in itself. and my locality is one such green heaven.  Loads of memories and great people to bond with. If one has spent their whole life in the same apartment building , nothing like it, besides your friends one knows their uncles, aunties, cousins and beyond. It is like a global village. There is always inquiries about all and sundry. There is a sense of camaraderie and this comes to forefront when the occasion demands. When their is a reason to celebrate your neighbour's house is always the extended house where relatives are welcome to stay. In happiness they are family, a moment of sadness,  everyone stands to up to the situation shoulder to shoulder.

Yesterday we lost a a young friend. We grew up together, when our family did not have a TV, d bro and I would be stationed in front of their colour TV to watch chayageet & chitrhar. My first shot at Palakad cuisine was in his house, mamai made fantastic white coloured morokutaan, mami was always the first to wish me on my birthday as they are on the lower floor. Big B, friend and I would saunter off to and form school together. My mama was his favourite, mama had to  call out his name and he would burst out laughing ready to burst, go red and yet he wouldn't stop. He would be giggling forever as long as the mama was around. It was fun. Time flew and the boys grew up spent some time together in spite of varying interests. Boys became men got married and some choose to move on and out. Life was not easy for the friend and his family but they put up a fight. They came over every challenge except death. He collapsed at work never to return. All I remember is his buck teeth and the giggling. Rest in peace my friend for your name shall live to remind us of you.

Sach ka samna... face the truth

Sach ka samna... face the truth, is a reality show which many a people's imagination when it was first aired in 2009 on Star Plus, I think, at 10.30 in the night. It created such a furor especially when you had famous people, talking about their secrets which best left in the closet. why am I talking about it now? It is back, so dis it going to be informative like KBC, personally no, I don't want to know if somebody asked his spouse to get an abortion or is angry with his very famous friend for not lending a helping hand or so on and so forth. then Why waste space on a post, here's why. The promo is shot in Delhi and prominently at Rajghat, Gandhiji's Samadhi. One cannot miss the connection here, truth & Gandhiji, anyways, this brings back my a memory, an experience that I had at Rajghat.

Link to the new promo, nothing great, Sach ka Samna Promo

Delhi is a beautiful place, especially in a cold December morning. It's royal antecedents continue to lure many and I am one of them. So when I got an opportunity to visit Delhi, even if it was a 4 days, and during the coldest days I was game. And that was the time when Kandahar Hijack incident happened. It was for a cousin's wedding an Uncle, his wife, son, Mom & I were en route to Delhi. Obviously if you are visiting a new city one would choose to do some sight seeing also and that is what we did too. This brings us to Rajghat, a memorial to Mahatma Gandhi.It is a black marble platform that marks the spot of Mahatma Gandhi's cremation. 

Rajghat

With respect and peity and all the positive feelings that we could muster after all the sight seeing, roaming around in the sun and arguing etc.. we reached the revered spot. It was filled with people of all kinds, shapes, colours, age...

Now in India we remove our footwear even when we enter somebody's house and that is what we did here also, we come out and voila no sign of my my uncle's shoes , that's when we faced the truth, our Sach ka Samna moment happened. My uncle was fuming and we inquired whether anybody saw anything, he was sure the locals knew who took abut wouldn't help us unless we gave them money. Finally we had to shop for shoes for my uncle on a Monday. Ok, what's the big deal?, Nothing, it's just that while flipping channels when I saw the suave Rajeev Kandhelwal (host) with Rajghat as the brackdrop, talking about the country rising against corruption and questioning the leaders for their actions, not willing to take anything lying anymore as it was time to face the truth. What truth, which truth ? And do we really want to know why a starlet did something, why did a man lie to his wife, why did a transgender hide her orientation. Or by knowing all this are we going to try and help them or is it for sensationalism.

I have a question what is "Truth"?

Miss you Dad...

My Dad

As a kid I was a monster, yes,  know it and acknowledge it. Also was daddy's girl. So daddy had to come and come me up from school. School was five minutes walk form home, but if I remember correctly dad always came in his blue scooter, and wait outside the school with all the other parents. The school bell had to ring and I would shoot out of the classroom and be the first to reach the gate into Dad's arms. This was a daily routine.

Except one day  instead of Dad, it was my Koo thatha (maternal grandfather, cause he traveled by train to work, hence the sound Koo associated with train) at the gate. I was so angry, my grandparents had a tough time handling my tantrums, strong people (may their souls rest in peace), silently bore everything out of their love for me & my brother. I walked into the house not willing to change till I was told about Dad's whereabouts. Just then two men called in on us and all I remember next is the scene in Kiran thata's (paternal grandfather, house just behind our apartment building). That scene is a little hazy but will never leave my mind, cause I had never seen anything like that before. Koo thatha was sitting on the floor looking distraught, like he had lost the only reason to live. At five I couldn't make head or tail of it. He had indeed lost ... my father (his son-in-law, he thought would replace the son he had lost to pneumonia early in life). 

Two men who called in on us,  had witnessed an accident, a scooter hit by a truck,on the main road close to our house. My dad was riding the scooter. I did not shed a tear, for I clearly remember telling myself, no crying like they show in the TV, you have to be strong. Then I remember my dad's face, peaceful, his body  wrapped in white cloth, it struck me then that I would never ever see him again.

I miss dad... but have a mom. I think about those who have lost both parents. Growing up I missed dad on many occasions, like when I saw my cousins with their father or when in a fight with mom and you just knew dad would have understood or just like that on a sunday afternoon. I often told myself to shut up about not having a dad and accept the fact which worked and continues to work. But there are times when I really miss him, like today 26 years (16th Dec) after his passing away.

Feeling low

I feel very low today, no, have been feeling a low for the past few minutes.Actually,  today began on a jovial note, as always the confusion what to take for lunch. Mom suggesting  something and I wanting some thing else. 

The feeling is not sadness, something more than that. Difficult to name,  it leaves a bad taste, a bitter feeling and creates a negative aura and most importantly no work gets done at a time like this. Also, I try and drop everything I am doing least the result is not up to the mark, that again results in negativity. It is like the domino effect. 

I think it is helplessness over something that I can only watch as a bystander. I shed tears but the feeling refuses to go, I tried working to get over it, I tried talking to people, reading, nothing seems to be working. Hope it wears out soon.

PS 17/12/11: This indescribable feeling was gone by evening though I had to down McDonald's McFlurry(with Oreo), sweet & chocolates really help during  a sad moment.

Love2HateU

It's a show on Star Plus, "Love2HateU", what's special about it,nothing besides, Arjun Rampal. Love2HateU, brings the hater and the hated face to face. In this case the hated is always a personality (actors, writers, sportsmen, directors and others). Then begins the "face-off". The "hater" puts in words their hatred for the "hated", their work and everything and anything they hate about this person and rate their hatred on a "hate-o meter". Then the "hated tries to, what's the word", justify, clarify any other "fy" their action/reaction/work...

What's the point. The show began with Arjun Rampal facing his "hater", the"hater", less said the best (about the hater). Am I promoting the show, hell no, then why this post. I am inspired by Mr Mahesh Bhatt's poise when this lady went on about how his films are sleazy, he has an opinion on everything, and many more things. He gave it back to her equally strong. But that man was unfazed till the end. Finally, he even asked the woman to get all the negativity inside her out and he prodded her, there came a point when she was at loss of words. And this guys actually hugs her and praises her for being a strong woman and having the guts to say what she thinks. 


Don't know why, after Zakhm, if it is really about Mr Bhatt, I must say he was one strong kid and continues to be a strong, independent man caring a hoot about the world and saying what he has to. Always like people like that. Absolutely amused by the way the Bhatts carried themselves about in the film industry. Was a little upset when he praised Mr Laloo Prasad Yadav for his role in Bihar during the communal riots. Then came his film Jism. Man did he have guts or what. He gave what the people wanted to see without trying to cover it up or dress it up pretty. A few more followed. It is interesting to watch Mr Bhatt on discussions, especially how vehemently he sticks by his stance. Then "Love2HateU" happens, this woman went on and on... he kept prodding her to do better and the show ended on a emotional note. 


How many of us can actually face even a small negative comment/ critic about  ourselves. Even when friends or friends say something close to negative, our radars are up weapons in hand the tongue ready to give a lashing.  We forget everybody has the right to an opinion and some voice it courageously. Even stars are humans they are doing a job, like we experiment at work by switching fields-career change, a model jumps to movies, if she/he is good they get accolades, if not eggs & tomatoes, part of the game. Similarly asking a sports person why he/she is so open about emotions on the field, I think is absurd. Bhaiya, my tears of joy, over World Cup 2011, would have solved all water problems. I was home imagine those in the stadium and then the guys who actually made it possible. Tik hai , kabhi kabar, restraint is good. If controlling emotions isn't somebody's strength, that is no cause to hate them.  Why do we judge? It comes so easily. Do we like it when somebody judges us, NO.  Expecting perfection only because they are stars is in itself an"Uthopian expectation".




Actually everybody is opinionated, but only few have the courage to speak it out, or hear it out. 


PS: Message to the Love2HateU crew, keep it coming always.

Relations

Though I think in English, write in English, speak Tamil, English, Hindi sometimes Marathi , Tamil does seep into my writings, only in the blogs though. So I feel the need to have this glossary of Tamil words, this would helps readers with other blogs also, so please free to add words, phrases... This was the original idea behind this post, but, it has tuned out into something else. It has turned out into a list of terms used for various relatives in Tamil. I am open to suggestions...

Amma   mother

Appa    father

thatha   grandfather (Paternal or maternal)  attach their name as a prefix to thatha or a nick. 

 

Patti    Grandmother (Paternal or maternal) same goes for grandmas

Peran   Grandson

Petthi  Grand daughter

Anna    Elder brother

Akka   Elder sister (no reference in my blogs as I don't have one)

Unfortunately the younger siblings, always the sidekicks are never referred to by the term of reference nobody calls the younger brother thambi also every south Indian Tea stall owner or worker is referred to as thambi. I believe there is a restaurant called Thambi. Or younger sister is not refereed to as thangai or thangachi.

Ma(a)ma  Maternal Uncle (irrespective of elder or younger to mom).

 Ma(a)mi   his wife

Chitti         Mom's younger sister

Chittappa  Her husband, now chitappa can be your father's younger brother also and chitti, his wife. Then you had their names as prefix.

Periyappa Father's older brother

Peryiamma His wife, now again, mom's older sister is also periyamma and he husband periyappa. To make it easier add names.

Trivia, what if your chitti (mom's sister) and the other chitti (father's younger brother's wife) have the same name, good question, life has played a bad joke on you. Just joking. In such situations one of the chittis has to give up her name. No, we don't change the name just the reference, her place of domicile becomes the point of reference, or physical attribute, we come up with weird ideas..

eg. Jam Mani ( jam short for Jamshedpur and Mani short for Subramanian)

 Goondu Lali ( Fat Lali, obviously because she is rotund in comparison to the thinner Lalitha)

Then there is, chinna Ambi, Ambi is a common nick for boys down south, therefore there ought to a few Periya Ambis too, i.e older Ambi. A household could have many ambis, no questions asked.

Athai   Father's sister (irrespective of elder or younger to dad)

Athimber father's sister's husband, one's older sister's husband is also called Athimber. So please remember to add their name when calling out.

If you are a girl, then your paternal aunt's daughter is atanga and you are amanga to her. Sounds like name of a mango pickle that I like.

Great grandfather (GGf) is kollu thatha and his wife kollu patti, great great grandfather is ellu thatha and great great grandmother (GGm) is ellu patti.

If you are great grand daughter then you are a kollu petthi to your GGparents and ellu petthi.

This all I can think of, everybody,anybody feel free to make additions, correct ones please if possible with explanation.

Love to know what your father's sister -in-law's niece's brother is called in any language?

எஙல் குடும்பம் நல்ல குடும்பம்.

The Big question... not marriage but profession.

As kid (really small not in size, but in age) I wanted to be a pilot, an just any pilot, a fighter pilot.. But had to give that up, wondering why. Here's why, my first flight to anywhere (Madras in this case), 'cause I can't hold anything in my tummy when I fly, in short, I throw up. Sadly, yes, even after many attempts at to get over it. The 2nd time I was airborne, it was  on empty stomach, nothing in the tummy to throw out. Oh No, that was not to stop my stomach from acting funny and it did regurgitate, even if it was only water. Completely dehydrating me in the process which left feeling weak and almost fainting. I tried half full tummy, no lunch on plane strategy, only sleep strategy, nothing seems to work. Mom thinks it is all in the mind, me thinks it's got to do something with my last birth (Brian Weiss, please help)

So no more piloting for especially, fighter planes, anybody seen "Top Gun" would know, I also wanted to be "Maverick" and do the vertical nose dive and rise up in he sky, but not with my vomit also in the cockpit. With that my dream of being a fighter pilot nose dived and crashed. (Sadly after years I still throw up even Avamine doesn't work, only sleeping pills left to try, but I really don't' want to do that)

Next choice, for some reason I never wanted to be a  Mochee or bajiwali, I wonder Why? It was always highly educated occupations, maybe the importance of education dawned on pretty early in life, not that it helped. Next choice,straight away doctor, did not fear blood, never had an injection till then, besides my vaccination shots, which I did not remember then. And when I had to have shots (two times a day) for an ear infection, amma would begin calling out to all the gods in the Hindu pantheon while I grimaced over the raucous she created. This happened for a week so after two days I ordered not to come or the shots would stop causing my ear to rot and fall off my head. Now, which mother would want her daughter's ear to fall of, not a very pleasant prospect, you see.

So doctor it was to be and it was for a long time till I flunked in science one time. While I was casual about it, I was declared unfit to become a Doctor.  I would cut off somebody's limb or gorge out an eye or inject somebody with water or like the friendly doctor in Gujarat or Rajasthan (don't remember), very coolly operate on the wrong hand. So daaktary was out too.

Now, one also gets a lot of unsolicited suggestions. Trust me, some of them make sense now when I think back. And then there is always what amma wants you to be or Patti or thatha want you to be. Actually patti and thatha never had an opinion about it, all they said was "whatever you do be good at it (with a decent pay) " fair enough, I think. So family suggestions, banker and TV newsreader.

Banker, reminded me of the bhaniyas with their potti counting something on their fingers forever. People who know my love for Sudoku will be surprised when say that numbers and I weren't good friends back in school. Gawd, I hated mental sums, fractions, algebra, geometry, nothing about maths was interesting. Though I was thrifty, my mortal fear of numbers almost always caused screw ups, to the extent that mom always double checked , sometimes, triple checked before giving or taking cash from me. She had her little calculation all ready and I was almost always wrong. For a long time I refused to take financial responsibilities fearing screw ups. Then, this little glitch downed my chances of being on the roll of any bank, even if was some local BJS coop bank. I couldn't swindle properly. So no banking for me. Though, at this point in my life, I have immense respect for banks and bankers, cause one (BOB) really helped us get through life.

Always been talkative, stark opposite to the quite, calm sweet big brother. Forever up to some mischief, like once I opened my aunt's lens case, turned it upside down thinking it was empty. Only when the whole house was frantically searching for expensive lenses did I realize my folly. But, I feigned ignorance all through, I was just a kid. 

I did cut my hair once forcing mom to take me to a parlour.

But this naughty talkative kid lost all her gumption when she had to narrate a simple short story, that she knew, in front of the judges at a story telling competition. Sadly, I also saw the teachers marking a big "0" on their sheets which further caused distress after that I never of my own volition stood up in front of a crowd for anything. Scared of speaking in front of crowds even if they are people I know. Imagine me being a newsreader, all those who saw the news at 5, 7 & 9 on DD would have... 

So this will might come a s a surprise when I say that my first serious job was a lecturer in front of a class, fortunately for me the class had only 3 girls but the next class was close to 30 and another was a good 50. What happened they loved me and I liked it.

That's how I got into teaching and academics,first as a visiting faculty followed by lecturer. It is fun teaching, researching an array of topics, planning lessons, teaching methods, making it interesting for students and for yourself, having all the answers ready, expecting the unexpected, discussions on topics (everything under the sun). It feels good to know that young women are comfortable talking sharing their ideas and open up.

A teacher's purpose is not to create students in their own image, but to develop students who can create their own image. 

 Discover wildlife:  be a teacher!

P S: Images taken from the net.

A sweet friend.

 
Life is full of surprises that nobody can deny. I was in for a sweet surprise at a meeting which happened recently. At a meeting I was expecting some older person to walk in and greet, but this young lady walks in and through the conversation it turns out that she is somebody I know from college. I was in NCC "army wing" back in my college. I even wanted to get into the army fight for the country, actually, Air force was my first choice. But on my first flight to Chennai, Madras at that time, after puking on my mom's  saree, the aisle, the seats and in many more places, it was clear no air force for me. So, it turns out that this young lady was also in the NCC army wing and we had met a couple of times during our camps. What I remember the most is her lisping, she was anyways a sweet girl, but her lisping added an extra pound of cuteness. Also I remember that she sang. As it happens in all camps, people would sing impromptu or on being pestered by friends. Every night after a tiring day we would get ready for bed and I would ask this girl to sing for me which she did. Complete strangers, huddled in a hall for twelve days and she would sing for me almost every night, I think.  Not sure if it is "Chand mera dil" or "Maine pucha chand se" both Mohammed Rafi songs and she made it sound so nice that after many years I remembered it and now it features in my playlist. Except I don't remember which song, though I have a string feeling it was "chand mera dil". Anyways I am grateful to life these sweet surprise which makes life worth living. And thank you my friend, hope we keep in touch.

* PS. While writing this blog I forget which song, but every time I am listening to music that particular song for some reason reminds me of my camp.

Pigeon sob story

According to Hindu traditions cows are feared and revered, hence fed on a daily basis. And boy, these crows must one hell of a digestive system cause they eat up everything you leave for them. Any pious Hindu would know why to fear a crow, primarily because he is the vehicle of Shaani or the planet Saturn, as being malefic. So to offend the crow would be to offend his master. Why is the crow revered, for it is considered to represent one's ancestor who have passed on. But this blog is not about the crows, but pigeons.

Pigeons, pigeons, fun to feed them at Khabootar khana at matunga or Dadar or even outside Mahalakshmi Temple or even enjoy when all of them take flight at the slightest sudden movement. But it is the poop that I cannot handle, I don't think there is anyone who can handle any kind of animal or bird or insect poop. coming back to pigeons.My beautiful house, greenery all around obviously loads of birds. The crows are there cawing incessantly if you miss their meal time, the occasional kingfisher, red crested bulbul and all kinds of strange bird and then there is the pigeon.Do I have anything the pigeon, no not till an year ago. Wondering what happened? Here is what happened.

I was living alone for about a year, besides the usual serious responsibilities one important task that every resident of my area, I am sure, never fails to do, is closing all the windows before leaving the house. To stop the pigeons from coming in, and if they come in and there is none to shoo them out, their day is made your worst nightmare just begins. I experienced the latter. Crows don't come in , neither do the sparrows nor the Bulbuls, nor the kingfishers, hawks,kites, BUT, the pigeons feel very welcome when they find a crack to enter your house. They wriggle and contract their body to somehow fit into the gap all the hard work pays. They way I am complaining one might think maybe a troop of pigeons wander into the house, then that is worthy of complaining. Alas it is almost always one or two of them. Mostly honeymooners or those back from their honeymoon looking to start a family. So one evening I walked into my bedroom after a reaaaly hard day's work and what do I see my bedroom had been turned into a bedroom suite for two mannerless pigeons who did everything in the same room. Mostly pooping,I think, there was pigeon poop on my books,bed spread, bed, TV, music system, cupboards, windowsill, window sliding doors, door, floor, on the fan, tube light and there was one satiated pigeon plonked on top of the cupboard, probably waiting for the partner to return, for another round of "you know what". All this because I left the sliding doors open a wee bit for air circulation, only thing going around was my head. This is the cause for negative feelings for bird and since then me and pigeons doon't get along. Now anytime I spot a pigeon, shooing is my task.

But those birds simply love my house. They simply can't let go. Since then many pigeons visit my place for food, water from my plants and to my horror I discovered for a delivery room. Having  managed to shoo away the soon to be parents, momentarily, I heaved sight of relief, only to find an egg nestled in my Oregano (omum in tamil, ova in marathi & ajwain in hindi) pot next morning. Above all on near the egg was a very possessive agitated mommy. Irritated, I was surprised at the creatures' never give attitude. This bring me to another annoying habit of their, going round and around while making a weird sound. Often I wonder don't they ever feel giddy going round in circles and what purpose does it serve. Maybe the one with most circles in his log gets the girl. I was worried about how to water my plant without hurting the egg or hurting myself. Many are not gonna like what I am about to share, what I would appreciate is a solution. So, when mom was away I gently moved the egg into another pot and placed it where mom knew the egg to be. Later when I went back to see how the new arrangement had worked out, a sad mommy was looking for her egg. The egg was missing, it had not toppled out of the new pot, Maybe a crow feasted on it. I shed a tear in secret and apologized to the mom. Again a few days later when I found an egg in the same place, I put it in a pot in a safe spot, this time no fault of mine, mom managed to push the egg out of the new home and ...Finally the third time around I decided to leave the egg and mom alone, as if making up to them I decided to record this gestation and birth, only to be cheated by death again. The egg just disappeared.

With tears in my eyes I told mom (Mine & pigeon) that, maybe, these unborn Pigeons were some kind Ashtavasus living a curse only to freed even before birth. Very sad, no everyday I hope to find an egg that would grow to be a pigeon in my balcony. Meanwhile any suggestions how I could help these poor birds find a safe place to lay eggs and tend to the young one.

7th Sense or Common Sense

7aum Arivu (7th sense), is a recent Tamil film starring Suriya & Shruti Hasan. Being a fan of Suriya, or rather the kind of films he has been doing since his film Nanda, I wanted to see this one too. Another reason being martial arts. I picked up this titbit that the movie revolves around martial arts. I love martial arts, more as  away of life, if only I had my way, I would been a monk (definitely not affiliated to any religion) in some far off mountain practicing martial arts. But when I saw it my excitement went for a toss, cause martial arts features in the film for about an hour in all rest is masala, but Suriya manages masala also pretty well. In all, only an hour or so of the film interested me, that is the first 45 minutes (mainly dealing with Bodhi dharma) or so and the last 10 minutes. 

Film plot:The female lead, a genetics PhD aspirant working on  her project arrives on the premise that with a little external help latent genetic traits in humans can resurface. For eg, descendants of a scholar or a artist, unaware, have the qualities of their distant relative in them. These qualities can be brought to the forefront and can be put to good use. In this film the protagonist is the descendant of a man today known as Bodhi Dharma in India and as Dhamo in China. Surprisingly not many knew of this chap, at least till the release of this film, including me. Our ever friendly neighbour "the dragon country" is about to declare a bio war on India by unleashing a deadly virus and this can be stopped only by the descendant of Bodhidharma, which they ( male & female leads) manage to do by the end.

So, what is special about this Bodhi Dharma or Dhamo? This film refers to him as a Pallava prince who excelled in Indian martial arts (kalaripayattu), hypnotism, academics, traditional Indian medicine,especially Ayurveda and much more. His quest takes him to a village in China where he is initially considered the evil spirit who brought a fatal disease inflicted upon the people. He uses is knowledge of Ayurveda to free the village of the disease. Soon he single - handedly  protects the village from looters using his martial arts skill only to be welcomed by the villagers to stay in the village. They also begin to learn martial arts from him. This today is known as Shaolin.Years later, he decides to return to India, the villagers decide to kill him not  wanting to lose their guardian angel. So our good fellow decides to fulfill their wish and consumes the poisoned food he is offered. He is buried in the village and immortalized. I do not know far the information in the film is authentic one can always check out  these links: Bodhidharma on Wikipedia &/or 7th Sense in The Hindu (slams the director for giving wrong info).

My point, the film ends with a message, which is, instead of labeling our practices as religious if we explain the scientific reason behind it the younger generation will accept it willingly, the inability of the past generations to explain why, what, how, when has resulted in the in loss knowledge, languages,  tomes, practices, ideals, ideas and many more.For example: We lost the patent to turmeric as an antiseptic to the University of Mississippi Medical Center, while we have been using it as an antiseptic for ages.

I completely agree with the director with regards to the message he tried to give, if we continue to force and impose stuff on our people without explanation we end being losers. Then when in future when somebody comes returns our stuff in a new package with a fancy we go gaga over it not knowing in realty it is ours, except we failed to preserve it and promote it. I the first step is to be proud of our diversity. Somebody once said, "if  I cannot speak another man's language, how can I expect him/her to speak mine". One cannot master everything but we can at least try to appreciate and not depreciate.

Green Ganpati 2011

Always been a great fan of Bappa (Ganpati, Ganesh, the elephant headed god) and Ganesh Chaturthi is a grand celebration in Mumbai and at home too. Though  not elaborate like many families but we have little Bappa and he stays for a few days, returns to his abode only to return next year. For me more than the religious aspect the preparations behind the celebration, large scale or small is more fascinating.

Let's take the Ganpati celebration in the area were I stay, my first memory of Sarvajanik Ganesh festival, Chedda Nagar Ganpati celebration, though I don't remember the year, but once I actually sat in the middle of the road to watch the latest film the organizers were screening as part of the celebrations. That was just a part of it for I remember it was an huge affair. What catches my attention is all the guys I see standing near Mohan's Pan shop come together and put in hours of hard work planning, fund raising  and organizing the setup of our Ganpati. it is difficult to do something like this especially after a hard day's work, however these guys manage to put up a  great show manage to put a great show every year.

At home , for years, Ganpati celebrations began a few days before the actual date when Grandpa (Mom's dad) and I armed with a makeshift shovel (almost always a broken metal ladle enough to scoop soil) would set out to collect soil. The old man made Ganpati at home, for long we had green Bappa at home, even before people started talking about ECO FRIENDLY GANPATIS. Not an artist  he always  managed to come up with a decent looking Bappa. At least Bappa did not have any complains about his looks, for he had Tur dal (pigeon pea) for eyes and white strips to show ash markings (Vibuthi) on his forehead and again a white strip to show one tusk. Completely a green Bappa, he was.  

So this year in the memory of this sweet old man who was my grandpops I decided to make a green Bappa just like he did when he was around and see the pics to see what I made. Though not big I was happy with my work so was mom and I bet Bappa was happy too, I hope. This Eco friendly Bappa is made of mud scrapped off an yam (sooran) which mom got a week before Ganesh Chaturthi, she always cleans it before storing it and when I saw her scrape off the wet mud off the yam I decided we are gonna use that mud to make her Bappa and voila, here he is for all to see. I decided to have an orange Bappa, inspiration being one of the Astha Vinayak Bappas. It wasn't difficult, one just has to imagine and Bappa manifests himself in your conscience/mind and your hands work, that's how it happened with me. I have used mustard seeds for eyes.  



Learning Continues... (Baking workshop)

I have always been a foodie, I guess. Cause from what mom says about when I was little, feeding time was no less than a world war. So now every time My friends and I meet it is always some place with good food. There is this one friend who is my partner in crime when it comes to food. We met at previous work place  where I was the course coordinator for Travel & tourism and she was the course coordinator for Hotel Management course, soon we became good friends. So imagine my excitement when I got to taste chocolates, cakes, ice creams, kinds of mousses and pastries, those days, alas shall never return, now etched in my memory forever. By this time though I was aware of cuisines and tastes, I got an in depth knowledge of the art of cooking. One person I missed during these interesting discussion with friends on cooking is my "Kiran thatha", Kiran is the name of apartment building where my paternal grandparents lived, so he was referred to by that name. he was a great cook, wow, avial, was his specialty and I was his favourite critic and fan. he had a style of his own. He cooked with love, maybe that was his way of getting back at life and its difficulties. So during my teens having spent a lot of time with him I learnt a lot about cooking and more about preparing for cooking and the ingredients. The other person who has influenced my cooking is my maternal grandmom, she began cooking for a huge family at a very young age. This continued even after marriage, so with time her cooking improved and her fame spread. Especially her Rasam, also known as "Mulligatawny". She continued to cook even after she moved in with my parents. So as she advanced in age I began helping and grasped the nuances of south Indian cooking to some extent, but never to her class. And when she passed away I got the opportunity to try my hand at cooking. having tried full fledged cooking my appreciation for and the art of cooking has grown immensely.

That's grandpa & me cooking, I think making crispy dosas. Man, his dosas were crispier than crisp can be.

My cooking was restricted to typical south Indian dishes, those for regular meals and during festivals I graduated to savouries, which I am really proud of. Confident that the food I make is palatable I wanted to try my hand in something else. That opportunity came knocking at my door in the form of a week long bakery course. I was thrilled and enrolled myself. It was fun. I kneaded the dough, saw edible yeast for the first time in my life, used the egg beater for the first time in my life, greased a croissant and gobbled up caked and cookies and pastries like there is no tomorrow. I did not know that we always adda little salt in sweet cookies. I learnt the cut & turn method kneadign dough. here are some pictures. This session happened at SNDT Women's University, NML, Mumbai, organised by the Hotel Management Department.

Black Forest cake

Croissants

Strawberry Cake

To blog or not to blog.

May the forces shower all their choicest blessing on those who gave the world  "the art of blogging". I am referring to the positive side of blogging, like everything else it also has a negative side. That we shall deal with elsewhere. For now, the pleasure of blogging, which does not necessarily mean actually posting blogs, but also just reading and adding comments (positive, is always encouraging to the writer). Why do I say so, cause there are some really good bloggers out there, and man, do they write or DO THEY WRITE? As it is I am a reader, I can read anything even if it is a brochure, or  a handout. Like the great Byomkesh Bakshi (a fictional detective in Bengali literature created by Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay) opined"most spectacular pieces of news in a newspaper lay hidden not under the headlines, but in the advertisements". I had heard about blogging and tried discussing it with, but to no vain. So when I first came across blogs, luckily good ones, though I don't remember which one, it caught my attention. Soon I was fascinated with the concept of blogs and the stuff I often found in them. That's how my tryst with blogs began.  Primarily reading them. Maybe 5 years after my first accidental encounter with blogs I have started blogging myself. About what, nothing, anything, everything, something...

As student we surf the net for a lot of reasons, besides reference stuff. Yes, I have borrowed from the net, but, was always careful to add it in the footnote. I was thrilled when I found a whole plethora of info pertaining to my subjects so easily. Often I forgot what I was doing and would spend hours reading these ideas and thoughts of complete strangers as if talking to them. At least it is better than hanging around chat rooms looking for cheap pleasure :))) Ahem! I fell in love with the travel blogs specially, cause more than often they spoke about the unseen, hidden gems that do not feature and they themselves stumbled upon them accidentally. The wonder that opens up is treat for one's eyes and mind.Yes, others do refer to the usual palace, museum but even they are an interesting read. 

As a teacher one is always looking for new ways to augment one's knowledge and make learning an interesting experience for the student. In the past few years education has developed by leaps and bounds and students expect the teacher to be like the latest tablet in the market. This is where blogs helped me a lot, educators all over the world have the same problems and it becomes easier when shared and many solutions appear. The skills, technology, methods, researches, ideas, suggestions, books available in the market, CD, films, so much is available to the modern teacher, blogging is just one of ways for the world teacher community to stay connected.Not just teachers, I am sure many other professionals have connected thanks to the blogs.

I am sure many a amateur writers shy of showing their work have used blogs to show the world their literary prowess. So much can be said said about blogging, and for every positive comment there is a negative comment, which is only fair. But as far as I am concerned blogs are a good way of sharing with the world.

Ladies Only.

Anybody who has been to Mumbai knows about the "BEST" buses are the 2nd best mode of public transport in Mumbai after the local trains. I personally think buses are the best way getting to know the city, for these buses navigate into the remotest corners of the city that many are not even aware of. I used to jump into a bus and float around the city getting to know it better, that is before the grueling traffic jams started or the never ending process of constructing bridges, flyovers, sky walks, undergrounds, metros and what  not began.

Earlier it used to like hop into the bus sit wherever you want except for the seats reserved for senior citizens or the handicapped. Which is only right. Gradually with growing awareness (don't know if it is the right word) or the guilt over over having treated women badly over the years, few seats were reserved especially for women. Isn't it surprising, it the largest democracy women, need reservation in a bus, imagine what happens in everyday life. So as of today, 6 double seats (12) are reserved for women besides, senior citizens, and the handicapped. As it is women in India have had to fight for their rights and be excepted as equals to men, and the fight continues for many. The irony is, men seem to think that the women are now to use only those 12 seats reserved for them and not sit anywhere. Men seem to think that besides the designated seats the rest of the bus reserved for them.There signs indicating seats reserved for women even then they go and sit there and when asked to move they fight, bicker, argue, taunt, comment and lech at women who defy them. What they fail to understand is it is their inability to respect women and offer them a seat, even if it is a 80 year old lady struggling to a foot hold in that swaying bus which has prompted the system to take this step of reserving seats for women. 

I accept that all men are not jerks, some promptly get up when women walk in, while some others get up when their folly is pointed out, but these guys are new to the city or it just happened by mistake. What bugs is when haughty guys look at you as if saying you are young why can't stand? The cutest part is, it is the older men especially those in their 70's & 80's who actually give their seats to women and not the younger guys. This happened couple of times with me, where get into the bus all hassled & harrowed after a wrestling match to get into the and getting out of it alive. But, I let them sit, they don't have to be chivalrous at this stage in their life, it is only really nice of them. 

Why is it difficult for men in India to accept that women are as human as they are, yes we a different, but that is true of guys too. No 2 men are alike. Why can't they just let women be?

I think this entry of mine has turned into a women's lib piece, though that was not the intention. It is just that I wanted to put it down in writing.A woman in India, even in a city like Mumbai, especially in a city like Mumbai, has fight battles everyday. She is expected to excel in everything, it is these few minutes of journey by train or bus, the breeze in her face she feels happy. But even that is taken away now with reserved seats on the bus, cause every woman wants to be the first to get to the ladies' seat or else it is long journey on your feet.

Mobil(zation)e

For sometime now I have been wanting to change my Mobile phone, at present I have a Nokia 5130 music express. I was thrilled when I got 5130 cause it had the served most my needs, staying connected and most importantly music. It has a great sound output. I have had it for sometime now and it has seen a lot of ups & downs, if not battered it is 4 steps away from battered. Also it hangs, out of the blue. Off late it has happened repeatedly, that's when I decided to change my handset. 

When it comes to technology, it has always been difficult for me to decide. Not that I don't understand technology, it's just that I want the best within my set budget. My yardsticks to picking the right phone, worth the moolah I'm paying, updated technology and serves my purpose of staying connected and entertainment. I don't want to pick a piece simply because everybody has one or cause it is the "in thing".  Also there is the problem of brand loyalty, Nokia has been in the family for long and I still can't let go of it. After much deliberations I have zeroed in on 3 options. How did it get down to 3? On discussions with the people I think are tech savvy, I realized one has to have 3G, QWERTY, WiFi, Bluetooth, GPS, GPRS, expandable memory amongst other things. So I have to decide between Nokia E72, Samsung Galaxy & Blackberry curve (8520, 8530). Recently somebody told me Carbon handsets are also good, so are HTC handsets. It's been over a month now and I still can't decide which one to pick. Somebody, anybody help...

P S: I have a liking for the color black and and aversion to touch screens, so phones which are completely touch screen are a BIG NO.

Blackberry Curve 8530

Blackberry Curve 8520

Nokia E72 Copper

Samsung Galaxy Pro