Christy and Baby George are coming back to Mumbaki today. Yay!!!!

I wonder whether Baby George will recognise me now. Ofcourse in the 15 days that I was away from him I constantly spoke to him on the phone. Ofcourse he had no idea where the voice was coming from and would constantly scan the faces of my parents and his mother to see whether they are speaking to him. I believe he even went to the extent of examining the wiring of the telephone to get a total perspective. And needless to say, the conversation ended with him smiling- Always!. Maybe he will remember the blob who constantly dances in front of him.

After wrecking havoc in Kerala for a month Christy is being brought to the relatively harder environment of Mumbai. Thank God Christy came back before the monsoons reached Kerala. Kerala is not strong enough for both Christy and the monsoons. But then is Mumbai??

I am actually surprised at the fact that many people liked my photographs of Delhi. I am totally encouraged now.

And some more...

Pictures I took on my travels...

I love taking photographs on my travels... so this time when I was in Delhi I was ecstatic that I could finally take pictures of the city that is truly the best in terms of historical monuments... infact I would become extremely snobbish about India whenever I visited some any historical monument abroad...'Ugh! they dont know what real monuments look like'.... in my view, there is nothing compared to the buildings built by the mughals in India... nothing....

so with that snob value I went on a photo tour (alone I must add) of Delhi... the only problem- my camera discharged just when I opened it up to click the pictures... what a waste I tell you! Anyways got some oridinary random pictures which didnt not focus very well... but what the heck everybody makes mistakes...

Ohh ofcourse the first picture is of Christy in Kerala - as always aiming for the tree top.... cos he is such a monkey....

Politically Correct Aunt

Bed time stories are a tradition with my dad... When I was a kid my dad would tell me stories about dragons, fairies, princes and princesses in a land far far away.... I would lie down beside my dad and listen intently .... always imagining my dad to be the hero in all of them....

One day Christy asked me to tell him a story... I was thrilled - Yay!... now I get the opportunity to pass on the tradition to the next generation.... and started off telling the story of Cinderalla to Christy.... About the orphan girl who was ill-treated by the step mom and step sisters.... about how she made friends with every animal (including rats) cos she didnt have company...and ofcourse the most important part about how the prince of that land was holding a ball to choose his bride.... how she didnt have proper clothes for the ball and the fairy God mother came to her rescue....

From then I decided to take the story on a different path... I told Christy about how the fairy God mother came down and told Cindrella that if she wanted to have proper clothes to go to the ball, then she would have to buy the clothes herself by working properly.... and how, encouraged by the fairy godmother Cinderalla went into the big bad city all by herself and started working hard and earning money.... and how the prince finally married her cos she was such an independent woman and not just a pretty woman in a pretty dress!!!...

Ofcourse the strong social message behind the story was completely lost on Christy cos at the end of the story he asked "Did she take the animals also with her?"

Memories....continued

I always envy people who grew up in one city... I never had one city that I grew up in and kept shifting cities every 5 years ..... as a result of which I never feel at home in any city....

But this is more so in Kottayam... the town that I technically belong to ..... I have no idea what it is about this town that drives me away.... There are many things that I like about the place.... for one I love the river right next to my house...its calm, serene and soothing for sore eyes... I love visiting the churches in Kottayam... there is something so pure and authoritative about them... I love Kumarakom and the backwaters....its lovely and I hope the place does not get too commercial.....

But this place is not home for me.... in some ways I feel I never fitted in Kottayam so well... I was always an outsider, a girl whose ideas were a little different from the rest of the girls and a girl who saw getting out of Kottayam as being the only way to get most out of life....

However this is my personal opinion about this place... there are many who swear by this place... they would die to come back to Kottayam and settle down here... and go fishing whenever they want, eat good food whenever they want and really have no care in the world other than whether the neighbour's dog is barking too loudly at night.... a great life some would say...

The problem probably lies in the fact that I never saw myself 'settle down' to a life in the backwaters... although I never had a clear idea about things, I knew that there has to be more to life that being rich, being somebody's wife (ofcourse that is not to at all demean wives and the role they play), going to the club and complaining about your mother in law or going to Bombay to check out the "latest fashion" ....

I just had to find out what else could be out there... I am glad I did.

Memory Lane

I am sure this is a common occurence in every household... storing stuff that dates back to Adam and Eve on account of the fear that you may "need it again"..... my house is cluttered with such stuff... infact at one time my house was cluttered with a washing machine that never washed, a dishwasher that never washed dishes, a freezer that was toooo big... and ofcourse there are the various things that we had accumulated from all over- a wall plate from Oman, a post card from England of Diana and Prince Charles's wedding (yes, my mom is a huge fan of Diana), a big yellow fan from Kanyakumari.... and on top of it all my Dad's medical journals, which will never go out of style according to my Dad....

And today in one of the most innocuous conversations my mom revealed that she had 3 rice cookers in the house. Why 3? "Well, one is what I use currently. The other two stopped working a while back but I just keep it for memory sake".

But Mom, what memory are you trying to preserve here?? That we graduated from boiling our rice in large pots to rice cookers?

What a little bit of competition can achieve

One of the things I really loathe when I am in Kerala are the ordinary chores that my mom hands down to me .... things like "switch on the heater", "put off the pressure cooker", "fill the water" etc are normal phrases that my mom uses around the house... I know I know... these are normal things that anybody should do in the house... I totally agree.. but the lazy bug in me bites just when such instructions are handed out...

So today my mom handed one more of those instructions- "please remove the clothes from the clothes line before the rain comes"... my heart was crestfallen ... I was just about to start my play time with Baby George .... and then the idea struck me... I have two able bodied nephews who are lurking around the house with nothing better to do than trouble their aunt.... so why not get them to do my bidding? And there and then I announced a competition! Competition on who can pick up the clothes faster and the one who picks up maximum clothes wins!!! ... I half expected both of them to come and slap me over my head when I announced such a ridiculously selfish competition... but surprise surprise!! The annoucement was greeted with a feverish scramble for the door by both of them... At first I was totally shocked - they actually bought that?? - and then having recovered from it I tucked Baby George (after all he will be doing the same in a couple of years) under my arms and ran after my enthusiastic nephews .... and what I saw was pure art...

Christy dived headlong into the competition ... he first swept all the clothes to one side of the line and then swooped it down.... his disadvantage - he was toooo small to hold all these clothes... my other nephew (who is called Nishanth in case I have not yet introduced him) just went about picking the clothes one by one and being bigger in size he could carry more.... Nishanth went a step further and even stole clothes from Christy taking complete advantage of the fact that Christy could not see from under the pile of clothes....... Baby George and I watched all this in amusement while encouraging both to keep going and not to give up till all the clothes were safely inside the house.... Finally, seeing that he had not got as many clothes as he needed to win the competition Christy went up to his mother and asked "Mummy, can I have some clothes please"....

All in all a very cute experience.... and later on I took both of them for icecream at Baskin Robbins.... Mainly as a gratitude payment for ensuring that their aunt didnt have to lift a finger for getting the clothes down from the clothes line....

And right after that my sister said "you are not like other normal aunts"... Well, normal is boring is some countries.... it is definitely boring in mine....

Christy's world

"Christy, will you share your chips with us?"

"Why? It will get over if I give you some"

"So, we will buy more if it gets over"

"Then buy them now only and eat it."

Smart Kid. Period.

7 p.m and the regression starts

One thing my mom doesnt compromise on when her children are visiting is her 7 p.m. appointment with the T.V. Thats when the blaze of regional serials start in Kerala. Much like the Ekta Kapoor Serials that one is so used to hearing about in Mumbai. Now I dont watch any of them and I must admit I feel somewhat intellectually superior by declaring that I dont watch such serials. As much as others feel intellectually superior when they see me watching "101 biggest celebrity goof ups". Well, each to his own I say.

But there is something SOOOO regressive about the serials that my mom watches. Firstly all of them are really depressing and there is someone crying in all the scenes. And one walks away feeling that the world is a place with no hope left in it. Ok. Maybe it is sometimes but I really dont want to stare reality at 7 p.m. on T.V everyday. And then there are subtle anti woman messages that are sent out through each serial. Story about a woman crying and praying to get her indecisive husband back from another woman, a man telling a woman that she better behave herself lest she finds that the world is very dangerous for a woman, a mother crying cos her daughter has been abandoned by her husband etc etc.

I keep quiet through it all but I keep wondering why we cant see progress in the serials in our country. As they say "Everybody loves a drought" it must be true that "everybody loves a good cry". To see that you are not the only one who is suffering in this world. Something like - "Oh Subhalaxmi of ___ serial also faced a similar crisis". Its about identifying with something in your life I suppose.

Which brings me to the next question- are we all just basically living cos somebody else is having a worser time than you? Is that actual living when you feel good about your life only when you see how much worser other people's lives are? A very wise man once told me - "never share your troubles with your friends. Cos no matter how good a friend they are, they always feel happy that someone else is suffering."

I am not sure whether I totally agree with that logic but sometimes when friends tell me excitedly about their plans I keep telling them not to tell anybody else till it all works out. I keep warning them about the 'black eye' that seems to be lurking around. Am I too cynical? Perhaps.

Conversations with God

"Hello, God? This is Me. I just wanted to ask you a few questions I had about your country."

"Hello there. My Country? Do you mean Israel?"

"No. Its Kerala. Everybody calls it "God's Own Country""

"Really? Is this the one at the southern most tip of India. Right next to Sri Lanka?"

God preens the map closely to see the small place that is called his country. And lets out a wild laugh.

"What happened God? Why are you laughing?"

"Ha ha. I remember this one. They call it "God's Own Country" but elected the first communist (read atheist) government in the world. Haha- that is funny. Slight irony there dont you think?"

"Ah God, now you get what I am saying. I am totally confused about this place. For instance, how come this place has the highest literacy rate and yet doesnt have enough jobs for them. How come the social indices of Kerala is one of the highest in the world, yet this place also has the highest suicide rates? And how come women have a better sex ratio in this state and yet are never considered equal in society?

Dont you feel bad that they call it your country?"


"Oh Just a minute. I have another call waiting. Its from N. Ireland. Apparently they have found a solution to the old problem about people wanting to worship me differently. Many were killed in my name. Now THAT is really mis-using my name. Its a relief that I dont have to deal with such issues in Kerala"

" I guess that is correct God. But will you..."

Lady in monotonous voice: Thankyou for your call to God. He is busy right now and will be back with you shortly. If you wish to leave a message kindly press Star.

Its been two weeks since i blogged!!!!

Gosh I missed blogging... and the reason I have not been blogging is ofcourse work... I have been travelling quite a lot and have not had the energy to sit down and pen down my thoughts... but now I have officially commenced my holiday in "God's Own Country" or as I like to call it "Land where I dont talk to people"....

In a nutshell this is what happened to me during the 2 weeks and more that I was away from blogspace:

a) Got completely aghast at the Gujarata fake encounter case. How and why did it happen?? Can I take solace from the fact that it is in Gujarat and not in Maharastra? or is it just the case that it is not me today and tomorrow it could very well be me? Why, why, why?? The silver lining - A woman is now handling the investigation. Lets just hope we grow out of such nonsensical society.

b) Took baby george on his first flight ever. I used to be one of those passengers who would look at a crying baby on the flight and scowl at the women who brought them - how can you disturb us peaceful passengers?. Even my sister was like that. So ofcourse since life has a way of dispensing justice only to me, I was at the receiving end of the scowls this time. Baby George started crying the moment the cotton buds were put in his ears. He totally refused to be belted to the seat with me and insisted on being picked up. So that is what we did , while profusely apologising to the peaceful co-passengers. Ofcourse after the flight took off he slept like a log (much like his aunt) and woke up only when the flight thundered down at Cochin (again much like his aunt). The best part- After a good sleep, he smiled at all the other passengers. Also was surprised to find that many people thought Baby George was actually a girl!!!

c) Bought several books with me to finish reading in Kerala. Also decided to introduce Christy to the art of Jigsaw puzzles. He likes Winnie the Poo (much like his aunt) and so that was my choice as well. Also got him a crazy ball - I mean the ball is really crazy- it laughs when thrown down.

d) Resolved that I will go with mom this time to the gold shops dotting the streets of Kottayam. I shall behave myself, drink their extremly sweet orange juice, show some amount of interest in the patterns and also not say anything when my mom asks me whether I like what she has bought. I never do and it is not cool to be so blunt.

That in a nutshell is what I have been doing and thinking. For now I look forward to the unadulterated 9 days of time with my nephews and parents. And ofcourse sleep. zzzzzzzz.............

Helooooooooo... Can you hear me???

Dont you just hate it when you are having a trullllyyyy important discussion with someone and where life altering decisions are being made over the phone and the phone line goes dead or blurry..... I have often found myself in a quandry like this.... where I am talking to someone about the most important thing in my life and suddenly I cant hear or the person on the other side cant hear what I am saying.... and most often we end up screaming "helooooo, can you hear???"" or "Helloo, I cant hear. Can you speak a little louder??"... etc etc etc and the saga goes on...

and my biggest fear is... what if you are actually commissioned to pass on a life saving communication to someone and right in the middle of the conversation the phone line becomes all blurry... "hello, yes the medicine that you have to give X is..." and the lines go down... or if you have one last call to make from a sinking ship to your loved one and before the words "I love you" comes out the line goes all blurry....

And worse if you are put on hold with the monotonous voice of the lady saying "You are in queue. Please wait"... Arrrrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh....

Now you know why modernisation has not solved any problems.

Honey Drool

Have you ever heard of Honey Drool? No, I dont mean drooling over honey or anything that you might call "honey" but drool that is honey? Well, neither did I till I met Baby George.....

Baby George is at a stage where he is constantly drooling... so no matter where he is there is a constant stream of drool hanging from his mouth despite best attempts by his meticulous aunt to clean him up... so most often my clothes are dripping with baby drool after I am done with playing with Baby George.... so one day when I was frantically cleaning my clothes of baby drool, my sister in her most helpful way said that baby drool is actually honey!! So now I have named Baby George, the Honey Drool kid....

And he is also at a stage where he wants to put everything into his mouth.... So he sees my fingers and pulls it towards his mouth with whatever little energy his 6 month old body has.... and I am constantly fighting off these biting attempts by baby george... most recently baby george landed what I thought was a huge slurpy, drool filled, sloppy kiss on my cheek... I went about the rest of the day claiming to everybody that Baby George gave me my first kiss... ofcourse the party stopped when I was told by my friend and my sister that actually he was trying to bite my cheek and not kiss it....

well only Baby George can answer properly and since he is choosing not to talk for the present I declare it to be a kiss...

Chalk and Cheese

Its not very unusual for one to feel that they are different from another person... come to think of it except for a few friends, I doubt whether I am that similar to any person.... sometimes I take it as a total compliment ... "Yay, I am unique" type of feelings... and at other times I feel downright despondent seeing how different I am from some people and how even if I try I will never become like that person... obviously this means that I admire that person in some subtle way but am not willing to admit it openly....

Most often these differences come up in the most mundane of things..... for instance, packing suitcases.... now a friend of mine would pack only after preparing a proper checklist of items needed for the trip... shampoo, tickets, torch, toothpaste, mosquito repellent etc etc....and then ofcourse the packing is a work of art....the clothes are arranged neatly (cos obviously they have been ironed a week in advance) into the suitcase, properly matched and perhaps even colourcoded.... so when one opens the suitcase, all the onlookers would see a completely organised suitcase..in short akin to a neatly arranged aisle of a super market.. and as compared to the supermarket finish, if I were to open by suitcase in front of people, the first thought that would come to their unsuspecting minds is "Garage Sale!"... the clothes are all there in the suitcase but not in any particular order... infact it is without any order .... and while i keep stating that there is order in the chaos, I doubt anybody would prefer the garage sale finish to the supermarket finish... Chalk and cheese?? ohhh I think so...


Well I dont know if I will ever be able to be that organised... my life is all about instant happiness.... everything has to happen fast.... so I usually dont ponder about the long term consequences of my actions and go with the attitude of I will tackle it when that happens....maybe it is time for me to change a little bit.... at least get a "Sabzi Mandi" finish to my packing if not yet a "Super Market" finish...

Does a City belong to you?

I have been away in Bangalore for the past two days ..... just going from one office to the other and back to the airport... and in between all this I realised that my city has changed so much... why is it my city? cos I stayed there for 5 years.... and no matter what I did or didnt do in law school, the 5 years I spent in law school were one of the most life altering years of my life... and for me the city is inextricably linked to that process...

so firstly the city has become a little more crowded.... or maybe I now travel in cars and earlier I would commute using my tiny little bike which made beating traffic a little more easy... now I see myself calculating the time it will take me to get from town (M.G. Road) to the Airport... and I was like "hey, I would do twice this distance during my student days"... and everyone around me says wistfully "times have changed since you left"..

and the city is trying to braze itself for its new metro project... so one of our favourite little theatres is being converted into a new metro station... yes for all the ex-law schoolites reading this, Arvind Narayan's Plaza theatre right on M.G. Road is becoming a world class railway station.... feels weird seeing one of the most recognisable buildings in Bangalore vanish...

While I noticed all these changes in my city, I didnt feel any loss... as in I just didnt feel like I am missing out on anything....I didnt feel the pull in heart about seeing such big transformation... of lost times and bygone eras... and that is when I realised that B'lore for me will always be the city in which I became a young adult... but it is not the city which accepted me an adult... and that is only Mumbai.....

Large hearted roads

Like everyday I was in my taxi today on my way to work ....and just near my office I got stuck at a traffic signal... in front of me was a large water truck - you know one of those trucks where you have pipes at the end that you can draw water out of... ofcourse I didnt bother much about the truck or about the happenings around me and was just only bothered about how soon I can reach the office....

and then out of nowwhere a group of kids scrambled around the water truck.....i didnt understand at first what the fascination was... .. and then I realised that they had started opening the pipes and taking out the water in their pots and pans... and one of them ingeniously started speaking to the truck driver keeping him engaged.. one by one the kids filled up their pots and pans and by the time the light turned green all of them had a pot full of water.... and in the meantime all of the onlookers did nothing but watch the spectacle... some taxi drivers even moved their taxies back to give room for more kids... and nobody (inlcuding me) seemed to find it necessary to tell the truck drivers that your water is being stolen... something so right in something so obviously wrong... Was it my urban guilt? at seeing so many kids growing up with no water??

Thats the thing about Indian roads... there is always some sort of life on the roads.... its only now that we have the tinted glasses on big cars where the drivers in their coat and suit behave as if they are doing a favour by even looking at the road..... and no matter what there is always room for one more on the Indian road... room for one more car, one more bullock cart, one more vegetable van, one more dog, one more cow, one more cat, one more rat.. one more of anything.... we just have enough space for everybody and we all just squeeze by....

And we even have elephants walking on the road... now in India I would not bat an eye lid if I saw an elephant right outside my car window... for me, he (or she) is like another traveller on their way to work...... but I realised how much we take seeing our elephants on the road for granted when I went to South Africa... I remember getting so excited seeing an elephant in the Kruger National Park .... I immediately whipped out my camera and started clicking away in all angles.... the elephant crossing the road, the elephant having his lunch, the elephant looking at us menancingly..... and when I see the same elephant crossing the road in Mumbai my camera stays right inside my bag.. no excitment, no flashes, nothing....in any other country, an elephant on the road would have created chaos and lead to the elephant being almost blinded by the incessant clicking of cameras ....


Thats life I guess!!! Well at least the journey is interesting on Indian roads....

Cric-in-my-neck

I am not a big fan of cricket... and before anyone out there goes on to say that "ohh women.. they never like cricket" let me tell you that the first fanatics of cricket I met in my life were my cousins- all girls!!

But despite not being a fan of cricket I felt crestfallen when India got out... I felt as if my days suddenly got bleaker, there was not much left to look forward to in this world cup and for about a day and a half I felt like a lost puppy... "ohh what will we do now? Can Bermuda actually beat Bangladesh?" were some of the incredulous questions I asked...

Anyways now I am back to the preworld cup phase- and that means I am back to wondering why so many people spend so much time on a silly game where everyone is hitting or chasing one tiny little ball!!! I mean seriously lets talk about some serious things here...

Kids say the darnest thing!

Christy is easily the naughiest boy I have ever seen... my mom says that he takes after his mother who was supposedly a terror in her childhood... so in a way she is getting a taste of her own medicine... one which obviously she is not taking a taste to...

so recently she flew off her handle when Christy messed up Baby George's soup.... and went on and on about how naughty he is and how he should behave himself... blah blah blah..... Christy in the meantime kept quite throughout the tirade ....and finally when my sister took a break from all the shouting Chirsty immediately quipped "Mummy, you have become thinner"....

Needless to say the shouting didnt resume after that.......... kids!!!

More of Maldives..