It's snowing outside, a million flakes drifting down to embrace my world, a million beautiful indications that beauty is everywhere, that miracles happen, that life is worth living, if only we open our eyes to it...
Today, after a long time, I have some time to myself - just the snow outside and me, time to introspect, time to ponder but just now, I don't want to think, I just want to watch the snow fall, to create my very own christmas; I wish the million thoughts in my head would drift away too, to wisps of nothingness or settle down to create a canvas as white, as enchanting, as the canvas drawn in front of my eyes now...shhh, no thoughts today, just the snow and me.
For some strange reason, I am reminded of these lines from a comment posted on my blog, ages ago it seems now, in response to my need for a blank, clear mind, one not so confused, not so jumbled...
Jumble of twine, colorful and bright,
makes your weaving a beautiful sight.
Were your twine, white and sane,
would your tapestry be the same?
A verse that made me smile that day...and today I am back to where I was, revisiting old thoughts, requesting yet again, for a white canvas and I send my yen out to the white world outside, asking them if they will help me weave a beautiful tapestry from the broken bits and pieces that lie abandoned in my head...
February 04, 2006
February 01, 2006
Books and such.
"Words are all I have to take your heart away..."
And how they take my heart away!
I have been reading a number of books by Indian authors, mostly relevant to Indians settled in America - The Mistress of Spices and The Unknown Errors of our Lives (Chitra Divakaruni), The Namesake and The Interpreter of Maladies (Jhumpa Lahiri) - I can relate to them in a way that I sometimes cannot relate to, in books from non-Indian authors...
Anyway, these lines from The Mistress of Spices stayed back with me (never seen the word "love" used in the plural form)...
Earlier novels that I enjoyed reading, also by Indian authors include The Mango Season by Amulya Maladi and Monsoon Diary - a memoir with recipes by Shobha Narayanan.
While on the subject of books, found this interesting link about the best first lines in novels!
And as k pointed out, rightly, they left out one of the best opening lines of all times:
"What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. The Beatles. And me."
Will write something more substantial soon, when inspiration strikes me :)
And how they take my heart away!
I have been reading a number of books by Indian authors, mostly relevant to Indians settled in America - The Mistress of Spices and The Unknown Errors of our Lives (Chitra Divakaruni), The Namesake and The Interpreter of Maladies (Jhumpa Lahiri) - I can relate to them in a way that I sometimes cannot relate to, in books from non-Indian authors...
Anyway, these lines from The Mistress of Spices stayed back with me (never seen the word "love" used in the plural form)...
Earlier novels that I enjoyed reading, also by Indian authors include The Mango Season by Amulya Maladi and Monsoon Diary - a memoir with recipes by Shobha Narayanan.
While on the subject of books, found this interesting link about the best first lines in novels!
And as k pointed out, rightly, they left out one of the best opening lines of all times:
"What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. The Beatles. And me."
Will write something more substantial soon, when inspiration strikes me :)
January 28, 2006
The Circle of Familiarity - On Lexington and Me.
What story do I tell you,
When bits and pieces clutter anew,
My whimsy, my muse, my confused mind,
Tell me my story, do be so kind!
Thus I ask my mind, to clean out old words, heard but not forgotten; to clear out the cobwebs of unwanted memories; to weave from the few threads that border on sanity, to discern hidden among my nascent thoughts - silly and serious, a story sane enough for me to recount here...
Guilty as charged - I am sleepy and muddled and have no idea why I am writing something that is careening pretty much towards barely understandable trails of thought, but look carefully and perhaps you will notice hints of sanity hidden amidst this hazy cloud of incoherence. Perhaps not.
And so today's story is about our sleepy little town, Lexington. Five years of going to UK (University of Kentucky), spending sleepless nights on assignments, graduating, getting a job here, getting married, making friends and it's hard for me to say that I am not "attached" to the place. I wonder how I will handle the day when I have to leave Lexington for good, it seems such a distant possibility. But sometimes life springs a surprise on us when we least expect it and we are left mulling over possible courses of action that we had not even dreamed about a few moments back...but I ramble, I write this post not because I am leaving Lexington but because people around me are leaving this place, leaving behind little pockets of voids...some hard to fill, some just making me uncomfortable for reasons I am still trying to understand.
We don't often think about all the people who constitute our so-called community, some just exist in it's circumference for us, filling it in to give it shape - a kind of completeness. We feel comfortable knowing the circle is complete, living, breathing in and out to let in more people, happy with more participants, willingly joining hands with new comers. We sometimes notice the addition, the change, sometimes we don't. It's when they leave that we take a note and something fleeting grips us suddenly and gives life to unspoken fears - fear that the circle that we exist in for the past so many years is dwindling away slowly, fear that a familiar face and a welcoming smile is being taken away from us...and then the feeling passes and the circle re-arranges itself and we exist in a new state of equilibrium, interacting - sometimes, superficially and sometimes, seriously with the people around us...
But how long will this circle last if the points that constitute it slowly fade away, one by one? Will it still be as it is - dynamic and alive? Perhaps just existing without anchoring oneself to the circle will help us disengage from it when the need arises? But then what about now when I wish to be at it's core? Will I not miss out on life if I hold back now to be secure in the future?
Confusing. Agreed. Insane? You tell me.
Anyway, here's hoping, more familiar faces and to-be familiar faces join us in the circle here in Lexington...and here's also hoping that Dinesh, Prabhu, Deepa, Trix and Ashok form their own circle of familiarity wherever they are :)
When bits and pieces clutter anew,
My whimsy, my muse, my confused mind,
Tell me my story, do be so kind!
Thus I ask my mind, to clean out old words, heard but not forgotten; to clear out the cobwebs of unwanted memories; to weave from the few threads that border on sanity, to discern hidden among my nascent thoughts - silly and serious, a story sane enough for me to recount here...
Guilty as charged - I am sleepy and muddled and have no idea why I am writing something that is careening pretty much towards barely understandable trails of thought, but look carefully and perhaps you will notice hints of sanity hidden amidst this hazy cloud of incoherence. Perhaps not.
And so today's story is about our sleepy little town, Lexington. Five years of going to UK (University of Kentucky), spending sleepless nights on assignments, graduating, getting a job here, getting married, making friends and it's hard for me to say that I am not "attached" to the place. I wonder how I will handle the day when I have to leave Lexington for good, it seems such a distant possibility. But sometimes life springs a surprise on us when we least expect it and we are left mulling over possible courses of action that we had not even dreamed about a few moments back...but I ramble, I write this post not because I am leaving Lexington but because people around me are leaving this place, leaving behind little pockets of voids...some hard to fill, some just making me uncomfortable for reasons I am still trying to understand.
We don't often think about all the people who constitute our so-called community, some just exist in it's circumference for us, filling it in to give it shape - a kind of completeness. We feel comfortable knowing the circle is complete, living, breathing in and out to let in more people, happy with more participants, willingly joining hands with new comers. We sometimes notice the addition, the change, sometimes we don't. It's when they leave that we take a note and something fleeting grips us suddenly and gives life to unspoken fears - fear that the circle that we exist in for the past so many years is dwindling away slowly, fear that a familiar face and a welcoming smile is being taken away from us...and then the feeling passes and the circle re-arranges itself and we exist in a new state of equilibrium, interacting - sometimes, superficially and sometimes, seriously with the people around us...
But how long will this circle last if the points that constitute it slowly fade away, one by one? Will it still be as it is - dynamic and alive? Perhaps just existing without anchoring oneself to the circle will help us disengage from it when the need arises? But then what about now when I wish to be at it's core? Will I not miss out on life if I hold back now to be secure in the future?
Confusing. Agreed. Insane? You tell me.
Anyway, here's hoping, more familiar faces and to-be familiar faces join us in the circle here in Lexington...and here's also hoping that Dinesh, Prabhu, Deepa, Trix and Ashok form their own circle of familiarity wherever they are :)
January 24, 2006
Sky, Toast, TV, Earth and a Story - talk about overloading!
I drove alone today, after a long time and I chose the right time to drive too. The sky decided to experiment with the right shades of colors - a bright pink and orange right in front of me, as if I am driving towards its core, to a less distinct, paler shade of orange and hints of blue, a sudden shift to a dark blue and finally a greyish black cover, just as I parked.
Nice.
And I walked in to find crispy brown toasts and hot tea all set nicely at the table, thanks to k, who decided to be a work-at-home husband today.
Also nice.
No, not just because its fun to work from home but because we got our new television delivered home today. So, I watched, amazed at how big my TV looked compared to the tiny box we had earlier.
Realllly nice.
But my post today is not about the perfect shade of pink or crispy bread slices or the wide-screen TV. Its about saving the earth :) In reply to Dinesh's tag (and am still wondering what made him think that I could come up with 3 ways to save the earth! Maybe its because I dwell so much on trivialities, he wanted to see how incongruous a post on saving the earth would look like, in this space :),
* Firstly, why save the earth? For posterity, of course! OK, so if we are doing something for our future generations, we need to make sure that there is some entity that can be termed "future generation" or in other words, assuming some natural calamity doesn't make mankind perish, we need to first make sure, we don't kill ourselves and leave the earth safe but empty :) (Yeah, yeah, drama, alright but a tiny point hidden in the drama.)
There are a million ways, a million reasons for which men hurt men. Am going to just touch upon one - hate crimes. For example, crimes inflicted due to racial prejudices. More relevant and real to NRIs like us. So, what can we do? Teach our kids to not make the mistakes that people make today (and that ofcourse involves teaching ourselves to respect, in the real sense of the word, people who are not like us - how many times have you heard people say, "Oh xyz, thats a totally ----- area!") Yes, they do that at school but perhaps we can be more careful before making statements that even insinuate such things. Maybe we teach them, sincerely, to not be prejudiced, not because that is "right" but because we "feel" it is right.
* OK, back to specifics. Have you ever noticed how people (mis)use the toilet tissue dispensers in restrooms? I mean its almost funny in a "seinfeld" kind of sense - its as if they are drawing water from a well using a rope - pull with your left, then your right, then your left, in fast forward, until there is no more paper left! I mean, come on! Am all for being clean but this is the limit! Keep doing this and you won't have the one square (tissue) that you desperately need (remember that Seinfeld episode with Elaine?) :)
* Carpool - If you use public transport to get to work, great! If not, atleast car-pool! I know its tricky - you have to work out the going time, the returning time and make sure you are comfortable car-pooling but once that's done, it might actually work and make for a less boring drive to work!
And that's that. Three things that my little mind could come up with to save the earth (Aarti, hope this is in the spirit of what you began, apologies if not). And now, the fun part - I tag Kamal, Bus and Kumari to see what they can come up with!
And oh yeah, the story, it's here, do check it out :)
Nice.
And I walked in to find crispy brown toasts and hot tea all set nicely at the table, thanks to k, who decided to be a work-at-home husband today.
Also nice.
No, not just because its fun to work from home but because we got our new television delivered home today. So, I watched, amazed at how big my TV looked compared to the tiny box we had earlier.
Realllly nice.
But my post today is not about the perfect shade of pink or crispy bread slices or the wide-screen TV. Its about saving the earth :) In reply to Dinesh's tag (and am still wondering what made him think that I could come up with 3 ways to save the earth! Maybe its because I dwell so much on trivialities, he wanted to see how incongruous a post on saving the earth would look like, in this space :),
* Firstly, why save the earth? For posterity, of course! OK, so if we are doing something for our future generations, we need to make sure that there is some entity that can be termed "future generation" or in other words, assuming some natural calamity doesn't make mankind perish, we need to first make sure, we don't kill ourselves and leave the earth safe but empty :) (Yeah, yeah, drama, alright but a tiny point hidden in the drama.)
There are a million ways, a million reasons for which men hurt men. Am going to just touch upon one - hate crimes. For example, crimes inflicted due to racial prejudices. More relevant and real to NRIs like us. So, what can we do? Teach our kids to not make the mistakes that people make today (and that ofcourse involves teaching ourselves to respect, in the real sense of the word, people who are not like us - how many times have you heard people say, "Oh xyz, thats a totally ----- area!") Yes, they do that at school but perhaps we can be more careful before making statements that even insinuate such things. Maybe we teach them, sincerely, to not be prejudiced, not because that is "right" but because we "feel" it is right.
* OK, back to specifics. Have you ever noticed how people (mis)use the toilet tissue dispensers in restrooms? I mean its almost funny in a "seinfeld" kind of sense - its as if they are drawing water from a well using a rope - pull with your left, then your right, then your left, in fast forward, until there is no more paper left! I mean, come on! Am all for being clean but this is the limit! Keep doing this and you won't have the one square (tissue) that you desperately need (remember that Seinfeld episode with Elaine?) :)
* Carpool - If you use public transport to get to work, great! If not, atleast car-pool! I know its tricky - you have to work out the going time, the returning time and make sure you are comfortable car-pooling but once that's done, it might actually work and make for a less boring drive to work!
And that's that. Three things that my little mind could come up with to save the earth (Aarti, hope this is in the spirit of what you began, apologies if not). And now, the fun part - I tag Kamal, Bus and Kumari to see what they can come up with!
And oh yeah, the story, it's here, do check it out :)
January 23, 2006
Conversationally speaking...
Ever been in a situation where you say something slightly out of the ordinary, hoping that people will join in, nod their heads wisely in consent and say, "Ah, yes! I always felt that"?
But then what actually happens is that they first look at you blankly as if you just spoke in bits of Chinese to them. And then they exchange the exact same look with each other, as if everyone in the room spoke bits of Chinese but everyone only understood Latin.
And then, just when you are sufficiently embarassed, one of them tries to make you feel better by offering you a response, along the lines of,
"Err...No, not really" and then looking embarassed themselves.
"Really? Is that what you felt? Have you been eating properly?", with a look of concern.
"Am sorry, did you say something?" and coughing.
Fun!
Especially, when you are not the one who spoke the initial bits of Chinese.
Someone else did. You just get to watch it and blog about it :)
And if this feels like Chinese to you. Let me try to explain with an example. Remember that scene in Friends where Ross and Chandler decide to "confide" to each other just like the girls? And then Chandler says something totally inappropriate, thinking Ross is going to jump in and agree and Ross goes, "Dude! you are weird!"
Exactly that.
But then what actually happens is that they first look at you blankly as if you just spoke in bits of Chinese to them. And then they exchange the exact same look with each other, as if everyone in the room spoke bits of Chinese but everyone only understood Latin.
And then, just when you are sufficiently embarassed, one of them tries to make you feel better by offering you a response, along the lines of,
"Err...No, not really" and then looking embarassed themselves.
"Really? Is that what you felt? Have you been eating properly?", with a look of concern.
"Am sorry, did you say something?" and coughing.
Fun!
Especially, when you are not the one who spoke the initial bits of Chinese.
Someone else did. You just get to watch it and blog about it :)
And if this feels like Chinese to you. Let me try to explain with an example. Remember that scene in Friends where Ross and Chandler decide to "confide" to each other just like the girls? And then Chandler says something totally inappropriate, thinking Ross is going to jump in and agree and Ross goes, "Dude! you are weird!"
Exactly that.
January 18, 2006
Coincidences, Irony, Life and such.
"All of these telephones seem to be out of order.", he tells me, an understanding nod, he knows how it feels to not be able to say goodbye. One more time.
Strange, this need to call back home just after you have said your goodbyes and all. Something about hearing my mom's concerned voice asking if the flight is on time and my dad's gruff voice, trying to hide the pang of separation, yet again...something about the tinny voices that makes me feel that I am still at home, as if still holding on to the sights and sounds that are so familiar to me, sometimes, I fear I have no identity without them...
Ofcourse, the airport with the bizarre sights and sounds that it offers is a place that has an identity of its own. It helps me distract myself from that taut feeling I get, as if I am leaving behind something I never should. The bored looking security guy scanning the luggages in, the loud family of four flying for the first time and unable to hide their excitement, the strikingly beautiful girl who is checking her wrist watch for the third time, an expression on her face that conveys quite clearly, she has done this too often to be interested and finally, the appropriately dressed fifty-something uncle who sits next to me, unperturbed by the announcement that Air India Flight 121 is delayed by forty-five minutes, the same uncle who had tried unsuccessfully to make a phone call earlier. Maybe he did not hear the announcement.
So, I tell him, "Looks like the flight is delayed."
"Flight 121? Oh, I see..."
And then there is a pause, which usually marks the end of these conversations for me. But this time, I am bored and have time to kill, so, I say, "Yes, are you going to Chicago too?"
"No, I catch the connecting flight at Bombay, to Sydney."
And so we exchange such banalities, only partially concentrating on the conversation. We discuss Lexington, H1B visas, cost of living in New York vs Lexington, life in the United States, India and Sydney and I suprise myself by finding topics that I could discuss with this stranger twice my age, for so long. And then the topic takes a turn to marriages because he asks if I am travelling with someone and I tell him, that I just got married and my husband will be joining me at Bombay (that happens, atleast the first few days after you are married, you somehow can't resist the impulse to declare the fact to the world :)
Anyway, he says, "Oh, my son just got married, september 15th, at Geetha Bhawan."
"Oh, I got married on September 14th." (There I go again)
"I see. The boy is also from Madras?" (I should have figured this question was next)
"He is from Bombay."
"I see. He speaks Hindi?"
"Oh, he understands quite a bit of Tamil" (Why? Why the need to convey this bit of information to this random uncle? I will never know)
"My daughter-in-law is not an Indian."
For the first time, I remain silent. I am surprised. He just did not look like the kind of father-in-law who would have a non-Indian daughter-in-law, you know what I mean?
"Yes, she got married Indian style though. She is a vegetarian, which is important to us. We like her, my wife and I. My wife is very religious, she wanted only an Iyer girl."
"I see." (Its my turn for "I see")
And then, on an impulse, I ask, "Your wife...has she adjusted to this marriage?"
"Oh yes. She is very happy now. She took longer than me to adjust ofcourse. But, what does it matter if the girl is a Romanian? My son likes her, she is a vegetarian and she is quite understanding. She even wore a madisar for her wedding and specifically asked my wife for all the Indian-style bridal jewellery..."
And then it strikes me. Of course. When you least expect it, life delivers a delightful little quirk in your lap.
"Are you Narasimhan uncle's friend?"
"Yes, from Indonesia?"
"Yes! Is your son's name Karthik?"
"Yes..." and he looks surprised now.
"Narasimhan uncle...I mean he is my uncle. I am Ramya."
And now you ask me why I brought up my first name in the midst of all this. And I will tell you why. My uncle had sent my jadagam (kundli) to this very same couple to see if I was a likely match for their son, Karthik! We did not hear back from them though. Now, I know why :)
"Oh, you are that Ramya!", he says
And we both laugh.
"And that would make you, my could-have-been father-in-law", I smile mischievously.
He retorts back with, "And now I know what I missed."
We both are silent for sometime, both immersed in our own thoughts. And then he says,
"My wife, she insisted on an Iyer daughter-in-law only. Your aunt told her you were probably more inclined towards an Iyengar style of marriage and so she was hesitant..."
And I muse over the irony of his statement. We talk some more but are now distracted by what we have discovered.
The flight finally does arrive. We leave without saying goodbye.
Strange, this need to call back home just after you have said your goodbyes and all. Something about hearing my mom's concerned voice asking if the flight is on time and my dad's gruff voice, trying to hide the pang of separation, yet again...something about the tinny voices that makes me feel that I am still at home, as if still holding on to the sights and sounds that are so familiar to me, sometimes, I fear I have no identity without them...
Ofcourse, the airport with the bizarre sights and sounds that it offers is a place that has an identity of its own. It helps me distract myself from that taut feeling I get, as if I am leaving behind something I never should. The bored looking security guy scanning the luggages in, the loud family of four flying for the first time and unable to hide their excitement, the strikingly beautiful girl who is checking her wrist watch for the third time, an expression on her face that conveys quite clearly, she has done this too often to be interested and finally, the appropriately dressed fifty-something uncle who sits next to me, unperturbed by the announcement that Air India Flight 121 is delayed by forty-five minutes, the same uncle who had tried unsuccessfully to make a phone call earlier. Maybe he did not hear the announcement.
So, I tell him, "Looks like the flight is delayed."
"Flight 121? Oh, I see..."
And then there is a pause, which usually marks the end of these conversations for me. But this time, I am bored and have time to kill, so, I say, "Yes, are you going to Chicago too?"
"No, I catch the connecting flight at Bombay, to Sydney."
And so we exchange such banalities, only partially concentrating on the conversation. We discuss Lexington, H1B visas, cost of living in New York vs Lexington, life in the United States, India and Sydney and I suprise myself by finding topics that I could discuss with this stranger twice my age, for so long. And then the topic takes a turn to marriages because he asks if I am travelling with someone and I tell him, that I just got married and my husband will be joining me at Bombay (that happens, atleast the first few days after you are married, you somehow can't resist the impulse to declare the fact to the world :)
Anyway, he says, "Oh, my son just got married, september 15th, at Geetha Bhawan."
"Oh, I got married on September 14th." (There I go again)
"I see. The boy is also from Madras?" (I should have figured this question was next)
"He is from Bombay."
"I see. He speaks Hindi?"
"Oh, he understands quite a bit of Tamil" (Why? Why the need to convey this bit of information to this random uncle? I will never know)
"My daughter-in-law is not an Indian."
For the first time, I remain silent. I am surprised. He just did not look like the kind of father-in-law who would have a non-Indian daughter-in-law, you know what I mean?
"Yes, she got married Indian style though. She is a vegetarian, which is important to us. We like her, my wife and I. My wife is very religious, she wanted only an Iyer girl."
"I see." (Its my turn for "I see")
And then, on an impulse, I ask, "Your wife...has she adjusted to this marriage?"
"Oh yes. She is very happy now. She took longer than me to adjust ofcourse. But, what does it matter if the girl is a Romanian? My son likes her, she is a vegetarian and she is quite understanding. She even wore a madisar for her wedding and specifically asked my wife for all the Indian-style bridal jewellery..."
And then it strikes me. Of course. When you least expect it, life delivers a delightful little quirk in your lap.
"Are you Narasimhan uncle's friend?"
"Yes, from Indonesia?"
"Yes! Is your son's name Karthik?"
"Yes..." and he looks surprised now.
"Narasimhan uncle...I mean he is my uncle. I am Ramya."
And now you ask me why I brought up my first name in the midst of all this. And I will tell you why. My uncle had sent my jadagam (kundli) to this very same couple to see if I was a likely match for their son, Karthik! We did not hear back from them though. Now, I know why :)
"Oh, you are that Ramya!", he says
And we both laugh.
"And that would make you, my could-have-been father-in-law", I smile mischievously.
He retorts back with, "And now I know what I missed."
We both are silent for sometime, both immersed in our own thoughts. And then he says,
"My wife, she insisted on an Iyer daughter-in-law only. Your aunt told her you were probably more inclined towards an Iyengar style of marriage and so she was hesitant..."
And I muse over the irony of his statement. We talk some more but are now distracted by what we have discovered.
The flight finally does arrive. We leave without saying goodbye.
January 12, 2006
ஆண்டாள் (Andaal)
"பச்சை மா மலை போல் மேனி, பவழ வாய் கமல செங்கண்,
அச்சுதா அமரரேறே, ஆயர்தம் கொழுந்தே என்னும்,
இச்சுவை தவிர யான் போய் இந்திர லோகமாளும்,
அச்சுவை பெறினும் வேண்டேன், அரங்கமா நகருளானே!"
"Now say it again with me, child", Vishnuchittar turns to his daughter and she sings the verses flawlessly, not once faltering, eyes closed, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
It seems just like yesterday that Bhoomadevi blessed me with this angel...and here she is now, singing in so mellifluous a voice...", he looks at the Lord and folds his hands in gratitude...
Dawn, a time most auspicious, a time to surrender completely to Him, a time when the golden rays of the sun and the fresh green of nature mingle to create heaven on earth, when peace and clarity fills the soul...it was dawn that a pious brahmin in Villiputtur (near Madurai), Vishnuchittar (Periyazhwar) found a beautiful girl child nestled among the tulasi plants in his garden. Being childless, Vishnuchittar and his wife considered the child, Kodai (daughter of earth), a gift from Bhoomadevi.
Vishnuchittar, being an ardent devotee of Lord Krishna imparted to Kodai, his own love for Lord Krishna. Each day, he went to his garden and collected flowers to adorn the Lord and Kodai would prance along with him delighted at the prospect of seeing the Lord. Each day, as Vishnuchittar sang in praise of Lord Krishna, as he told her stories of Lord Krishna, the child's fascination for the Lord grew.
Lips as red as corals, eyes as beautiful as a lotus...And each day, the Lord would grow more beautiful in her eyes, each day she would long to see him, to praise him and to be with him. Each day, before her father came to adorn the Lord with the flower garlands, she would don it on herself and look at her reflection in the mirror - Lord Krishna will wear this very same garland..., she would think to herself and smile, happy to be near anything that will adorn her dear Lord. That day, Vishnuchittar happened to come to the temple earlier than expected and he was shocked to see Kodai wearing fresh flowers meant for the Lord.
"Kodai, what have you done? How will the Lord forgive me now? These are flowers meant only for Him! Now, I shall have to go get some more flowers for Him...what have you done?"
Kodai could not understand why her father was so upset. She was sad to see her father adorn the Lord with flowers that she had not worn on herself.
That night, as Vishnuchittar fell into a troubled sleep, the Lord appeared in his dream, "அவள் சூடிக் கொடுத்த சுடர்க் கொடி! அவள் ஆண்டாள்! அவள் என்னை ஆண்டாள்!"
Hearing the Lord declare that he considered the flowers worn by Andal and Andal herself more precious to him than anything else, Vishnuchittar realized that his daughter is perhaps destined to be more than what he gave her credit for. From the next day, he let Andal wear the flowers and then he would offer them to the Lord.
As Andal thought about Lord Krishna day and night, Lord Krishna started appearing before Andal and playing with her - he would kick the mud castles that she would build and tease her, he would disappear suddenly, as she cried, "கண்ணா! உன்னை காண வேண்டும் போல இருக்கிரதே கண்ணா!" and then He would appear behind her and hug her from behind and console her...Andal's childhood was thus filled with His games and mischievousness.
As she grew up to be a beautiful young woman, her love for the Lord grew stronger until one day, she resolutely declared to her father that she would marry none other than the Lord himself.
"I belong with him!", she declared and Vishnuchittar worried about his daughter. That night, the Lord appeared in his dream again and told him that his daughter was destined to be His bride.
Vishnuchittar was at the same time happy to see his daughter's dream come true and sad that she would no longer be with him - a father's mixed feelings. The next day, Vishnuchittar took Andal, in full bridal glory, to SriRanganathar at SriRangam. And Andal became one with the Lord that day (Koodaravalli).
A post for the month of Marghazhi :) Many thanks to my mom and dad for their stories and enthusiasm (the mistakes are all mine though!) :)
January 11, 2006
Death and Life and such - scene 2 from my head.
Death is not something I am comfortable with. For that matter, it is something that not many of us are comfortable with or have made peace with. I don't discuss it, I don't like to see it happen in movies, I don't even like to write about it and even if I do, it is with considerable effort that I do.
And why such a morbid topic to talk about? Well, all I wanted to do was write another post like the previous one, about my days at Bits and the one memory that I tried to keep avoiding, that is still clear in my mind, is one involving death. The one scene that keeps coming back to me is one of my closest friend, holding the telephone receiver tightly and crying as she kept repeating, "இருக்கவே முடியாது! நீங்க தப்பா சொல்லரேங்கோ! அப்பா உடம்புக்கு என்ன? சொல்லுங்கோ!" - she had just heard from her relatives that her dad was critically ill.
And that was my first introduction to the realities of life. At that point, all I wanted to do was run away, laugh hysterically, do anything to not hear her voice. But I did stay there, I did hear her voice and later when she came back after a month, I did manage to make her feel better.
The day before she returned, my friends and I decided that we would try our best to cheer her up and so we did the last thing that people expected us to do, we decorated her room, doodled on the walls, wrote anything that we thought would make her laugh - filled her space with the trivial pleasures that life is sometimes kind enough to let us indulge in. And when she came back and saw her room, she did laugh.
A few days later, she told me, "ரம்யா, எல்லாரும் என்னை பாவம் மாதிரி பாக்கரா...எனக்கு பிடிக்கவே இல்லை..." (Ramya, everyone looks at me with pity, I dont like it at all...) I don't remember what words of wisdom(?), consolation (or the very lack of it) escaped my mouth that day but I promised myself that I would not make the same mistake. And while I was not mature enough to handle anything this grave, I was glad she confided in me. I felt closer to her that day than I ever had in the past.
We tried to help, in our own little ways, in the only ways we could...we tried to help knowing we would never feel what she feels until destiny chooses us next to play its cruel game on. Destiny, a single word for all that we cannot make sense of - the present, the past, life and death...
And that concludes scene #2 in my head.
And why such a morbid topic to talk about? Well, all I wanted to do was write another post like the previous one, about my days at Bits and the one memory that I tried to keep avoiding, that is still clear in my mind, is one involving death. The one scene that keeps coming back to me is one of my closest friend, holding the telephone receiver tightly and crying as she kept repeating, "இருக்கவே முடியாது! நீங்க தப்பா சொல்லரேங்கோ! அப்பா உடம்புக்கு என்ன? சொல்லுங்கோ!" - she had just heard from her relatives that her dad was critically ill.
And that was my first introduction to the realities of life. At that point, all I wanted to do was run away, laugh hysterically, do anything to not hear her voice. But I did stay there, I did hear her voice and later when she came back after a month, I did manage to make her feel better.
The day before she returned, my friends and I decided that we would try our best to cheer her up and so we did the last thing that people expected us to do, we decorated her room, doodled on the walls, wrote anything that we thought would make her laugh - filled her space with the trivial pleasures that life is sometimes kind enough to let us indulge in. And when she came back and saw her room, she did laugh.
A few days later, she told me, "ரம்யா, எல்லாரும் என்னை பாவம் மாதிரி பாக்கரா...எனக்கு பிடிக்கவே இல்லை..." (Ramya, everyone looks at me with pity, I dont like it at all...) I don't remember what words of wisdom(?), consolation (or the very lack of it) escaped my mouth that day but I promised myself that I would not make the same mistake. And while I was not mature enough to handle anything this grave, I was glad she confided in me. I felt closer to her that day than I ever had in the past.
We tried to help, in our own little ways, in the only ways we could...we tried to help knowing we would never feel what she feels until destiny chooses us next to play its cruel game on. Destiny, a single word for all that we cannot make sense of - the present, the past, life and death...
And that concludes scene #2 in my head.
January 09, 2006
Itsy Bits-y post - scene 1 from my head.
Sometimes, I surprise myself by the clarity and vividness with which I can recall memories, more like moments, scenes be it from a few days ago or several years ago, it's all there in full color and I remember the most mundane details - the color of my dress that day, the background sounds, even fleeting thoughts that ran across my head that moment, many years ago...
I remember that I wore a white salwaar kameez with small purple flowers in it, I remember that I was standing in Meera Bhawan (Bits) and carrying a green plastic bucket in my hand and my dad was giving me some more advice about living in a hostel, away from home...and then I saw him. He had not worn his glasses that day and I remember thinking that he looked better with his glasses on. For a second, I forgot how awkward I looked carrying the bucket, forgot every other sound and presence around me and I blushed. All the sweet innocence and color that a sixteen year old can muster, when her eyes meet the eyes of yet another sixteen year old boy that she was hoping very much that she would run into, "by chance", rose up my face.
And while that moment was fantastic and embarassing at the same time, since my dad followed my line of my sight and proceeded to ask me, "Hey, doesn't he look familiar? Let me go talk to him and see if he shares some common classes with you" and it took me a while to dissuade him, the memory stayed back - pristine and perfect.
And I still wonder why I remember the moment as I do now. The boy is forgotten, the feeling is archived - stored as a bit of memory, pleasant to recall but difficult to reproduce now, the sixteen year old girl is ten years older now...still, the memory remains, like many others, painting itself in front of my eyes, as if it happened yesterday...
Strange, what the mind decides to store and what it rejects :)
I remember that I wore a white salwaar kameez with small purple flowers in it, I remember that I was standing in Meera Bhawan (Bits) and carrying a green plastic bucket in my hand and my dad was giving me some more advice about living in a hostel, away from home...and then I saw him. He had not worn his glasses that day and I remember thinking that he looked better with his glasses on. For a second, I forgot how awkward I looked carrying the bucket, forgot every other sound and presence around me and I blushed. All the sweet innocence and color that a sixteen year old can muster, when her eyes meet the eyes of yet another sixteen year old boy that she was hoping very much that she would run into, "by chance", rose up my face.
And while that moment was fantastic and embarassing at the same time, since my dad followed my line of my sight and proceeded to ask me, "Hey, doesn't he look familiar? Let me go talk to him and see if he shares some common classes with you" and it took me a while to dissuade him, the memory stayed back - pristine and perfect.
And I still wonder why I remember the moment as I do now. The boy is forgotten, the feeling is archived - stored as a bit of memory, pleasant to recall but difficult to reproduce now, the sixteen year old girl is ten years older now...still, the memory remains, like many others, painting itself in front of my eyes, as if it happened yesterday...
Strange, what the mind decides to store and what it rejects :)
January 03, 2006
One day to 2007!
Stop!
It's 2006!
Are you still doing the same things that you did in 2005 that you promised yourself you wouldn't carry over to 2006? Then, stop! Do what you love, channelize your creative energy, join a class, write cute little notes to your loved ones and tell them "I love you" everyday until they start giving you this really strange look and ask you if you are alright.
Yes, we have all read all these inspiring stories and talks about doing what you love and basically, everything that I mentioned above that I don't care to repeat. And then you are really inspired for those four minutes after you read the article and you look around you with steel grit and iron determination (and other metals that are really strong and also easy to remember, unlike zirconium, which makes for a really bad adjective) and you thump once on your table to seal your resolve. Then, while you realize that you really need to clean your table, judging by the dust particles that just jumped up when you thumped, you also realize that this is not the first time that you resolved to do something different in life!
As moments turn into days and days into little chunks of monotony easily forgotten, you also end up forgetting your resolve to do something different, to make a difference in your life.
And I ask, what better day than...err, the third day of the new year (I knew I should have written this post on Jan 1st!), to question what we do and more importantly, what we are not doing!
So, go on, join that pottery class, call up Michaels for the next painting session, do your laundry, vacuum the carpet...that didn't sound right, sorry, that's just a part of my daily-chores-list and not be-creative-list. Where was I? Yeah, just do your thing, surprise yourself and do something you wouldn't normally do.
See, I knew I was bad at this inspiring-speech business. So, I'll just stick to what I do best - write random stuff. Yup, I do a great job at that!
And remember you have 362 days to make a difference but that doesn't mean you have to wait that long. Just pretend you have just one day left in 2006 and do what you would do then (hopefully you are not thinking of just getting drunk and waiting for 2007 :)
It's 2006!
Are you still doing the same things that you did in 2005 that you promised yourself you wouldn't carry over to 2006? Then, stop! Do what you love, channelize your creative energy, join a class, write cute little notes to your loved ones and tell them "I love you" everyday until they start giving you this really strange look and ask you if you are alright.
Yes, we have all read all these inspiring stories and talks about doing what you love and basically, everything that I mentioned above that I don't care to repeat. And then you are really inspired for those four minutes after you read the article and you look around you with steel grit and iron determination (and other metals that are really strong and also easy to remember, unlike zirconium, which makes for a really bad adjective) and you thump once on your table to seal your resolve. Then, while you realize that you really need to clean your table, judging by the dust particles that just jumped up when you thumped, you also realize that this is not the first time that you resolved to do something different in life!
As moments turn into days and days into little chunks of monotony easily forgotten, you also end up forgetting your resolve to do something different, to make a difference in your life.
And I ask, what better day than...err, the third day of the new year (I knew I should have written this post on Jan 1st!), to question what we do and more importantly, what we are not doing!
So, go on, join that pottery class, call up Michaels for the next painting session, do your laundry, vacuum the carpet...that didn't sound right, sorry, that's just a part of my daily-chores-list and not be-creative-list. Where was I? Yeah, just do your thing, surprise yourself and do something you wouldn't normally do.
See, I knew I was bad at this inspiring-speech business. So, I'll just stick to what I do best - write random stuff. Yup, I do a great job at that!
And remember you have 362 days to make a difference but that doesn't mean you have to wait that long. Just pretend you have just one day left in 2006 and do what you would do then (hopefully you are not thinking of just getting drunk and waiting for 2007 :)
January 02, 2006
A new beginning...an ignorable post!
There goes one of my new year resolutions - to be on time, be it to a party or to write a post :) I've been meaning to write this post since last year (I know, sorry, I just couldn't resist the "last-year" joke in this post), anyway, here goes...
Wish you all a very happy new year. I hope 2006 is a year that sees us achieve atleast some of our dreams, personal legends (from The Alchemist - I believe we can have more than one!), that makes us dream bigger, better dreams, that brings us closer to friends and family, that helps us forgive and forget those that we should...that keeps us happy and at peace with ourselves.
I watched a bunch of good movies the past few weeks - Casablanca (thanks to Senthil), Must love dogs and Flavors (thanks to Arun) - liked them all, do watch.
And tomorrow will see me keep up one of my new year resolutions - am going to join YMCA tomorrow and gosh, am so excited about it!!! (man! even saying that and the additional exclamation marks do not generate even a touch of enthusiasm in me about exercising - I just hope its not as mind-numbingly boring as I fear it would be).
And 2006 has now seen me write one of my most unrelated, disconnected and inconsequential posts of all times - I promise to do better as the year proceeds :)
Wish you all a very happy new year. I hope 2006 is a year that sees us achieve atleast some of our dreams, personal legends (from The Alchemist - I believe we can have more than one!), that makes us dream bigger, better dreams, that brings us closer to friends and family, that helps us forgive and forget those that we should...that keeps us happy and at peace with ourselves.
I watched a bunch of good movies the past few weeks - Casablanca (thanks to Senthil), Must love dogs and Flavors (thanks to Arun) - liked them all, do watch.
And tomorrow will see me keep up one of my new year resolutions - am going to join YMCA tomorrow and gosh, am so excited about it!!! (man! even saying that and the additional exclamation marks do not generate even a touch of enthusiasm in me about exercising - I just hope its not as mind-numbingly boring as I fear it would be).
And 2006 has now seen me write one of my most unrelated, disconnected and inconsequential posts of all times - I promise to do better as the year proceeds :)
December 25, 2005
Flaky thoughts for christmas (pun intended)!
'tis the season to be jolly, tra la la la...
Yeah. Blame it all on the season. Strangely, its been sunny so far, which makes me happy, but poor kids, I hope it snows a bit tomorrow just so they'll see atleast a partly white christmas. So, here are a few random thoughts off the top of my head - nah, we won't go further than that for now!
- It's quite awkward when you are the only girl at a (desi) party with 15 other guys and then a wise guy decides to make that observation, aloud. And suddenly there's this hushed silence for a few moments and then I begin to wish yet again that I were a guy!
- Sometimes, I think I've said too much but it always feels better having said too much than too little :)
- It feels good talking to your dad-in-law and laughing together about your husband :)
- Sometimes, people put this random thought in my head and forget about it. And then I spend a considerable amount of time wondering about it. Two weeks later, I mention that to the very same person, assuming (s)he has analyzed the issue from various angles and has several insightful remarks to add to it, and then (s)he goes, "Huh? Did I say that?". And then ofcourse, you can't admit that you have been thinking about it all the while and then you go, "No, I just made that up" and then after a while both of you don't know what you are talking about!
- Being frank has its benefits. Don't ask me why I said that now.
And before flaky becomes crazy, g'nite y'all and a merry christmas to all of you!
Yeah. Blame it all on the season. Strangely, its been sunny so far, which makes me happy, but poor kids, I hope it snows a bit tomorrow just so they'll see atleast a partly white christmas. So, here are a few random thoughts off the top of my head - nah, we won't go further than that for now!
- It's quite awkward when you are the only girl at a (desi) party with 15 other guys and then a wise guy decides to make that observation, aloud. And suddenly there's this hushed silence for a few moments and then I begin to wish yet again that I were a guy!
- Sometimes, I think I've said too much but it always feels better having said too much than too little :)
- It feels good talking to your dad-in-law and laughing together about your husband :)
- Sometimes, people put this random thought in my head and forget about it. And then I spend a considerable amount of time wondering about it. Two weeks later, I mention that to the very same person, assuming (s)he has analyzed the issue from various angles and has several insightful remarks to add to it, and then (s)he goes, "Huh? Did I say that?". And then ofcourse, you can't admit that you have been thinking about it all the while and then you go, "No, I just made that up" and then after a while both of you don't know what you are talking about!
- Being frank has its benefits. Don't ask me why I said that now.
And before flaky becomes crazy, g'nite y'all and a merry christmas to all of you!
December 22, 2005
Resolutions!
I am a list person. I like to make lists. Nice little lists - todo lists, grocery lists, why-I-hate-you lists (aww, come on, I don't mean you!), what-should-I-do-with-my-life lists. I also like to make resolutions. I don't mean lofty, unrealistic resolutions like "I am going to be a better person from today", "I will become more beautiful from today" - those are just downright silly.
I mean achievable, realistic resolutions like:
There. A nice set of realistic resolutions. That was just an example, they are not really my resolutions. What? You don't believe me? OK, just to set the record straight, here goes a list that I am working on since New Year is almost here.
There. Nicely done. Will post my updated list in a couple of weeks. Gosh, am proud of myself - all organized and focused in life. Are you? :)
I mean achievable, realistic resolutions like:
- "I shall not check email for the next three hours."
- "Even if I do, I shall not reply to any of them."
- "Unless they are addressed just to me."
There. A nice set of realistic resolutions. That was just an example, they are not really my resolutions. What? You don't believe me? OK, just to set the record straight, here goes a list that I am working on since New Year is almost here.
- Exercise regularly, atleast three times a week.
- Learn to play the keyboard or learn to dance.
- Improve housekeeping skills.
- Lower expectations - don't be demanding on your friends.
- Read more, read different books - ok, no disclaimers here, I plan to do this. No, I am absolutely not hinting that I am any less serious about my other resolutions. Just that this one is close to my heart :)
- Remember to call in-laws every weekend.
- Transition gracefully into this phase of life, face growing "old" with a cheerful face.
- Don't make stupid resolutions.
--Unless I am sick or very sick. In which case, noone can force me to carry over the backlogged exercise hours. And unless the weather is bad - bad weather puts me in a bad mood and I really dont want to go the gym with a drooping face and upset people there - yes, am all for 'good karma' :)
--If I can find a good teacher and still afford the class.
--Provided k also improves accordingly.
--Provided they understand that mostly I don't expect much and even when I do, I make very reasonable demands!
--Unless I sleep really late the previous night. Am sure they don't want me to wake up early to call them and then fall sick :(
--Yeah, yeah, all the same, there's nothing great about turning 27. No, I will absolutely not have a birthday party. You are not invited.
--Unless I really want to. In which case, I shall consult this post to help me decide.
There. Nicely done. Will post my updated list in a couple of weeks. Gosh, am proud of myself - all organized and focused in life. Are you? :)
December 19, 2005
Parineeta.
Quality time spent watching a movie. Twice. After a long time. And a Hindi movie at that ;)First a mention about the music that embraces the movie throughout, perfectly complementing the moods and emotions portrayed - an excellent job by Shantanu Moitra. It's hard for me to pick a favourite song, each excels in its scope, creating the right effect.
Piya Bole - endearing...touching. Surprising how the characters of Lolita and Shekhar and how they depend, relate to each other - as friends, as something more...becomes evident through just one song.
Kasto Mazza - I love the little chorus that the children sing while waving from the train...a song about beauty that only love can create.
Soona Man Ka Aangan - hurt and love that causes it - powerful.
Kaisi Paheli - Dazzling performance by Rekha - a glimse into the exotic world of the rich and glamorous!
Raat Hamari Toh - A woman in love, scorned by her lover - beautiful even when teary-eyed - haunting!
Hui Main Parineeta - Mesmerizing. The essence of a wife, parineeta. The scene that precedes this song is my favourite scene in the movie. His possessiveness, her tears, the magic of the day and they all come together in a beautifully picturized moment...
Music, the notes played on the piano that brought them together is the one place Shekhar takes refuge in when he fears he has lost his love - the angst, the pathos, the raw energy that he manages to convey through music creates a connection that words would have failed to convey.
Excellent performances by Saif Ali Khan (he just keeps getting better!) and Sanjay Dutt but ofcourse, our show-stealer is Ms.Vidya Balan, stealing many a hearts with her grace.
Enough said. Watch the movie!
December 15, 2005
Wee-me!
When God made me, he must have put an artistic finger to the tip of his aristocratic chin and said, "Let's see...what shall I do different now? Oh yes, let me make her just a wee bit more awkward than the rest!" Now am sure God would have used a more mature-sounding-word than wee but we'll be satisfied with wee for now.
Anyway, God then happily went on to make other human beings who now have their own problems to deal with. But, we shall not get distracted. We shall dwell on the wee bit that God decided to bestow on me! You see, normally, I do a pretty good job of camouflaging this wee-bit that lives within me, let's call it "wee-me" for the sake of simplicity. So, wee-me normally is happy being in a placid, dormant, vacant kind of state - you know what I mean? (Kinda' like guys responding to questions on philosophy and life when NBA is on TV) And then suddenly, especially in a crowd of people (especially at work), wee-me pops up all happy and cheerful and I become this ghastly, awkward being that am embarassed to associate with. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration but do you know what I mean? (Please say yes!)
And then a strange phenomemon takes place. I run out of things to say - intelligent rejoinders, funny jokes, lukewarm assents...nothing! I just stare and look dumb and its as if they are talking in a language that I cannot understand. I mean, come on girl, say something...anything (like that episode in Friends where Ross's mind talks to him and then he ends up saying something really stupid) - in my case, I just wish I could say something stupid.
Anyway, if I could, I would run back to the day that God stood tapping his chin and I would have put forth a strong case to make me a wee bit more say, artistic, beautiful, funny? :) (Now that's an interesting thought - me making a case for making me, even before "me" was created - that's it, that's got to be the stupidest thing that someone ever wrote on the www) But then, if I had that kind of power, I would have probably asked to be a boy ;)
Seriously, this post is so absurd, am surprised you read through it fully, thanks :)
Anyway, God then happily went on to make other human beings who now have their own problems to deal with. But, we shall not get distracted. We shall dwell on the wee bit that God decided to bestow on me! You see, normally, I do a pretty good job of camouflaging this wee-bit that lives within me, let's call it "wee-me" for the sake of simplicity. So, wee-me normally is happy being in a placid, dormant, vacant kind of state - you know what I mean? (Kinda' like guys responding to questions on philosophy and life when NBA is on TV) And then suddenly, especially in a crowd of people (especially at work), wee-me pops up all happy and cheerful and I become this ghastly, awkward being that am embarassed to associate with. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration but do you know what I mean? (Please say yes!)
And then a strange phenomemon takes place. I run out of things to say - intelligent rejoinders, funny jokes, lukewarm assents...nothing! I just stare and look dumb and its as if they are talking in a language that I cannot understand. I mean, come on girl, say something...anything (like that episode in Friends where Ross's mind talks to him and then he ends up saying something really stupid) - in my case, I just wish I could say something stupid.
Anyway, if I could, I would run back to the day that God stood tapping his chin and I would have put forth a strong case to make me a wee bit more say, artistic, beautiful, funny? :) (Now that's an interesting thought - me making a case for making me, even before "me" was created - that's it, that's got to be the stupidest thing that someone ever wrote on the www) But then, if I had that kind of power, I would have probably asked to be a boy ;)
Seriously, this post is so absurd, am surprised you read through it fully, thanks :)
December 14, 2005
Clumsily yours!
Do you know why men have easier lives in general? Because they are smart enough to not make life complicated, as women do. And why do women make their lives complicated? I have a sneaking suspicion that it's in their blood (I say "their" as if I don't wish to be a part of this conclave - I wonder why?!) Maybe it's the challenges we thrive on, the challenges that if life is not accomodating enough to offer to us, we create for ourselves!
At each stage, it's almost as if it is a competition for them, a competition in which participation doesn't count - you win or atleast act as if you are in the lead (Notice the use of the third-person personal pronoun? That's because I am still trying to figure out where I stand - do I want to be a part or do I want to stand apart? :)).
A career-oriented go-getter tut-tuts when she observes the homely wife, cooking - a job, which in my opinion can be equally challenging and worthwhile if you chose to make it so. And yet the woman throws a barely concealed look of disdain at the other. A slim and beautiful single girl talks to the visibly pregnant woman in a tone that pretty much says, "God knows how you do it! Thank goodness, I am not in your shoes!"
Why? Why this need to establish that she is placed in a much more fortunate position in life than the other? I have often wondered and while it will be unfair of me to generalize, I will say that I have observed this often enough to put this post up (after all, it is my blog :))...
And a short-story that dwells a bit on what I have tried to clumsily summarize here.
At each stage, it's almost as if it is a competition for them, a competition in which participation doesn't count - you win or atleast act as if you are in the lead (Notice the use of the third-person personal pronoun? That's because I am still trying to figure out where I stand - do I want to be a part or do I want to stand apart? :)).
A career-oriented go-getter tut-tuts when she observes the homely wife, cooking - a job, which in my opinion can be equally challenging and worthwhile if you chose to make it so. And yet the woman throws a barely concealed look of disdain at the other. A slim and beautiful single girl talks to the visibly pregnant woman in a tone that pretty much says, "God knows how you do it! Thank goodness, I am not in your shoes!"
Why? Why this need to establish that she is placed in a much more fortunate position in life than the other? I have often wondered and while it will be unfair of me to generalize, I will say that I have observed this often enough to put this post up (after all, it is my blog :))...
And a short-story that dwells a bit on what I have tried to clumsily summarize here.
December 11, 2005
The "what-do-I-do-with-my-life" crisis!
Maybe it's the season - all white and flurry, making my mind confused and muddy!
I guess it's quite normal for a girl (I shall not say woman, not just as yet!) of twenty-six to be feeling a touch of the "what-do-I-do-with-my-life" and "these-hyphens-are-awfully-hard-to-read" crisis. OK, the latter is not part of my dilemma, just an experiment to see if am any good at making up long hyphenated sentences. Am not.
But, that's hardly my concern now, I mean the hyphens. My circle of concern concerns bigger issues (Gosh! it's really confusing to read a sentence with a noun and a verb that are the same word. I just have to stop re-reading what I write and get on with this post!) Anyway, the past few days, I have this feeling of drifting along aimlessly, floating towards nowhere, and if I get lost, will someone care to notice? As a tiny speck of this universe, we all make our marks in our own little way or so wise words tell us, don't they? (Atleast Mitch Albom does - The five people you meet in heaven).
Well, am not really sure. Am I making a mark? By doing what? Going to work, writing code, talking, cooking and doing every little bit that adds up to form a mundane , oh-so-ordinary, typical work-week of an Indian software engineer in KY?
And then I think, I am just being ungrateful, not thankful enough for what He has given us. Not satisfied enough with the miracles that life has to offer and has already offered.
...and now, here I am once again, in the middle of nowhere, looking around me for an answer, hoping that I would not have to spend a lifetime to figure out what it is that I wanted to do with my life. Hopefully, I am doing or will soon do what it is that am meant to be doing with my life.
Yes, try writing at 12.00 AM and you can sound just as confusing as me. I promise :)
I guess it's quite normal for a girl (I shall not say woman, not just as yet!) of twenty-six to be feeling a touch of the "what-do-I-do-with-my-life" and "these-hyphens-are-awfully-hard-to-read" crisis. OK, the latter is not part of my dilemma, just an experiment to see if am any good at making up long hyphenated sentences. Am not.
But, that's hardly my concern now, I mean the hyphens. My circle of concern concerns bigger issues (Gosh! it's really confusing to read a sentence with a noun and a verb that are the same word. I just have to stop re-reading what I write and get on with this post!) Anyway, the past few days, I have this feeling of drifting along aimlessly, floating towards nowhere, and if I get lost, will someone care to notice? As a tiny speck of this universe, we all make our marks in our own little way or so wise words tell us, don't they? (Atleast Mitch Albom does - The five people you meet in heaven).
Well, am not really sure. Am I making a mark? By doing what? Going to work, writing code, talking, cooking and doing every little bit that adds up to form a mundane , oh-so-ordinary, typical work-week of an Indian software engineer in KY?
And then I think, I am just being ungrateful, not thankful enough for what He has given us. Not satisfied enough with the miracles that life has to offer and has already offered.
...and now, here I am once again, in the middle of nowhere, looking around me for an answer, hoping that I would not have to spend a lifetime to figure out what it is that I wanted to do with my life. Hopefully, I am doing or will soon do what it is that am meant to be doing with my life.
Yes, try writing at 12.00 AM and you can sound just as confusing as me. I promise :)
December 08, 2005
என் மனதை திருடியது...(Captured my heart...)
I blame this post entirely on Subha who leaves to India this week :)
What is it that captivates my heart thus? Is it the sweet fragrance of home? The familiarity with which the delicate white petals nod at me? The dance that captures the essence of everything alluring and pristine, as the wind whispers to them? What is it about the sight of jasmine flowers that delights me and fills me with a feeling that I know not I possessed? A feeling of nostalgia, familiarity and home...
"How come you don't demand jasmine flowers when you are here?", he asks.
I don't know. I associate "here" with the white that is reflected all around by a cold blanklet of snow, not with the whiteness of flowers peeping out from pretty braids that steals my sight, as I go around the navagraham one more time...
It's hard to explain. I stayed in Bombay for four days last time when I visited India. Each day, as I travelled the city so involved with itself, so busy, so hurried, I looked for a sign, a glimpse of something that would remind me of home. My eyes would scour through the forever thronging crowds, for an echo of a familiar thamizh word, for a glimpse of a well-worn silk saree, for a wisp of a closely woven string of mallipoo, for the smell of home.
I don't think anyone understood why I frantically looked with unexpectedly watery eyes, at the rows and rows of stalls outside SidhiVinayakar temple, at the seedy stalls lining Andheri railway station, at the peddlers selling trinkets at Chowpatty beach, searching for the familiar woven straw baskets of little piles of malli and jadi poo, the cool wetness of the green leaves in which the flowers are wrapped and the smell of my kovil, my mother and me, a part of me that I left behind...
I don't know whether to believe in omens, probably because I am too young to have seen many of them in my life. Perhaps we have to be away from home, away from our comfort zone, to keep our eyes open for omens. But, in those four days in Bombay, I believed that my prayers, my beliefs, my feelings existed for a reason and someone up there heard the desperation in my little voice, among a sea of such similar voices...
I went home that day, to find a neatly wrapped green package sitting for me in the kitchen counter, held together by a fraying brown thread. The sight of it filled me with an inexplicable sense of happiness. I could not explain it...I clumsily and gratefully arranged the flowers in my hair - Was I being silly? Maybe. Sentimental? Yes.
But, I think I began to believe more, that day.
What is it that captivates my heart thus? Is it the sweet fragrance of home? The familiarity with which the delicate white petals nod at me? The dance that captures the essence of everything alluring and pristine, as the wind whispers to them? What is it about the sight of jasmine flowers that delights me and fills me with a feeling that I know not I possessed? A feeling of nostalgia, familiarity and home..."How come you don't demand jasmine flowers when you are here?", he asks.
I don't know. I associate "here" with the white that is reflected all around by a cold blanklet of snow, not with the whiteness of flowers peeping out from pretty braids that steals my sight, as I go around the navagraham one more time...
It's hard to explain. I stayed in Bombay for four days last time when I visited India. Each day, as I travelled the city so involved with itself, so busy, so hurried, I looked for a sign, a glimpse of something that would remind me of home. My eyes would scour through the forever thronging crowds, for an echo of a familiar thamizh word, for a glimpse of a well-worn silk saree, for a wisp of a closely woven string of mallipoo, for the smell of home.
I don't think anyone understood why I frantically looked with unexpectedly watery eyes, at the rows and rows of stalls outside SidhiVinayakar temple, at the seedy stalls lining Andheri railway station, at the peddlers selling trinkets at Chowpatty beach, searching for the familiar woven straw baskets of little piles of malli and jadi poo, the cool wetness of the green leaves in which the flowers are wrapped and the smell of my kovil, my mother and me, a part of me that I left behind...
I don't know whether to believe in omens, probably because I am too young to have seen many of them in my life. Perhaps we have to be away from home, away from our comfort zone, to keep our eyes open for omens. But, in those four days in Bombay, I believed that my prayers, my beliefs, my feelings existed for a reason and someone up there heard the desperation in my little voice, among a sea of such similar voices...
I went home that day, to find a neatly wrapped green package sitting for me in the kitchen counter, held together by a fraying brown thread. The sight of it filled me with an inexplicable sense of happiness. I could not explain it...I clumsily and gratefully arranged the flowers in my hair - Was I being silly? Maybe. Sentimental? Yes.
But, I think I began to believe more, that day.
December 07, 2005
Demo(n)s!
Today I did something stupid. Dont start smirking and acting all smart now. No, I dont so stupid things everyday. Anyway, we had this demo to show to our boss's boss's boss's...you know how that goes. Until half an hour before the demo, everything was hunky-dory and working as best as it could. Then I had this cool idea. Why don't I restart the server just to you know, clear things up, start afresh, just before the demo. And that's exactly what I did. Restart the server.
Only, the server did not restart. It said, "Publishing failed". This message confused me as much as it does you now. What publishing? I was just restarting, what are you talking about? So, I laughed a little laugh to myself, in an attempt to act all cool and professional (although there was no one around but me to notice that), and I closed my editor and every other window that was open. Clean slate. That's the key. Start with a clean slate and everything will fall into place.
In your dreams! I tried to launch my development environment and start the server and a different error popped up this time, "Unknown errors, no server found!".
What?!
What?!!!
How can you not find a server, you dumb machine? The server was there, alive and kicking a minute ago! And then k walks along breezily, quite a contrast to my state - nervous, cold hands, almost sweating (and like Veronica Lodge says, I never sweat, maybe I glow a bit :)) and says, "Problem? Why don't you try to delete the server and install a new one?"
I don't like people suggesting silly stuff to me when am in a deep soup. Firstly, it's based on the assumption that I am dumb and did not try the silly, simple stuff first. Secondly, it just wastes time because I have to understand what the person is saying, get annoyed, snarl all the while thinking of a solution to my original problem. Anyway, before I could snarl, another colleague walked along and now it became a kind of show - "Server is broke, lets all watch!"
To cut a long story short, before I broke out into hyperventilations, the server decided to chug back to life.
...and then people tell me, "It's just a demo, stop stressing about it!"
Only, the server did not restart. It said, "Publishing failed". This message confused me as much as it does you now. What publishing? I was just restarting, what are you talking about? So, I laughed a little laugh to myself, in an attempt to act all cool and professional (although there was no one around but me to notice that), and I closed my editor and every other window that was open. Clean slate. That's the key. Start with a clean slate and everything will fall into place.
In your dreams! I tried to launch my development environment and start the server and a different error popped up this time, "Unknown errors, no server found!".
What?!
What?!!!
How can you not find a server, you dumb machine? The server was there, alive and kicking a minute ago! And then k walks along breezily, quite a contrast to my state - nervous, cold hands, almost sweating (and like Veronica Lodge says, I never sweat, maybe I glow a bit :)) and says, "Problem? Why don't you try to delete the server and install a new one?"
I don't like people suggesting silly stuff to me when am in a deep soup. Firstly, it's based on the assumption that I am dumb and did not try the silly, simple stuff first. Secondly, it just wastes time because I have to understand what the person is saying, get annoyed, snarl all the while thinking of a solution to my original problem. Anyway, before I could snarl, another colleague walked along and now it became a kind of show - "Server is broke, lets all watch!"
To cut a long story short, before I broke out into hyperventilations, the server decided to chug back to life.
...and then people tell me, "It's just a demo, stop stressing about it!"
December 05, 2005
Just a lil' hug!
When my dad said, "There is a world of difference between us and them", I believed he was wrong. After all, how different can human beings be from each other? And if they are from the same country, really, how can there be a world of difference? Isn't that an oxymoron or something?
Anyway, the funny part of this story is that I am beginning to believe my dad was right (as always!). Especially if I take the world to not literally mean the world outside. Think of it as the world within us and it kind of makes sense.
But, I am not writing this post to discuss how North Indians(or West Indians as Bombaites like to be called :)) live in a world different from ours (meaning us thayir sadam and no-chapathi South Indians). I am writing this post because sometimes, if I really keep my eyes open and my prejudices locked away, I feel I can absorb much more of the goodness in people and cultures...
I am digressing. What I really want to talk about can be summarized in a couple of words - "A hug"!
I mean, how hard is it to hug someone? A friend who stands at the airport waving goodbye and looking morose, my mom when I visit India after a year, my dad because he always gives in to what I say, however unreasonable :), my brother because well, he is just a kid to me...countless instances when I could have hugged and said more than what I could convey by mere words. But, I did not. And then there are times, when I just want to hug someone, spontaneously but I dont.
I am just not used to it! Its awkward for me to take the initiative and hug! Take k for instance, he hugs easily and comfortably - his friends, his parents, even my "You are an angel" pillow! When I saw him and his sis initially together, they looked like a Bollywood raakhi-psenti-types bro-sis pair to me :)
...but then in retrospect, I think about it and wonder, maybe a hug could have pacified what a hundred words did not, maybe a hug would have meant more than silent tears shed in silence, maybe a hug would have said, "I'll miss you" better than a bouquet of roses? Maybe.
Anyway, the funny part of this story is that I am beginning to believe my dad was right (as always!). Especially if I take the world to not literally mean the world outside. Think of it as the world within us and it kind of makes sense.
But, I am not writing this post to discuss how North Indians(or West Indians as Bombaites like to be called :)) live in a world different from ours (meaning us thayir sadam and no-chapathi South Indians). I am writing this post because sometimes, if I really keep my eyes open and my prejudices locked away, I feel I can absorb much more of the goodness in people and cultures...
I am digressing. What I really want to talk about can be summarized in a couple of words - "A hug"!
I mean, how hard is it to hug someone? A friend who stands at the airport waving goodbye and looking morose, my mom when I visit India after a year, my dad because he always gives in to what I say, however unreasonable :), my brother because well, he is just a kid to me...countless instances when I could have hugged and said more than what I could convey by mere words. But, I did not. And then there are times, when I just want to hug someone, spontaneously but I dont.
I am just not used to it! Its awkward for me to take the initiative and hug! Take k for instance, he hugs easily and comfortably - his friends, his parents, even my "You are an angel" pillow! When I saw him and his sis initially together, they looked like a Bollywood raakhi-psenti-types bro-sis pair to me :)
...but then in retrospect, I think about it and wonder, maybe a hug could have pacified what a hundred words did not, maybe a hug would have meant more than silent tears shed in silence, maybe a hug would have said, "I'll miss you" better than a bouquet of roses? Maybe.
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