The sun hadn’t risen this morning, and it was still dark at 7:30 am.
Sonny wakes up first, pulls me out of bed, and says
‘Please can you make it morning?’
(Btw, sweet as it sounds, all he meant was: ‘Switch on the da*n lights, you lazy b*m’)
Hey Bangalore Blogger Buddies,
I need your help. A friend of mine is moving from the UK to BLR very soon. And I want to know all your regular haunts for SHOPPING!!!!
Thanks!!
Cheerio..
Five easy steps for a woman to look haaeeeep and kheeeewl.
1- Wear a pair of oversized sun-glasses
I had a severe eye infection about 10 days ago, and I was forced to borrow a pair of over-sized sun glasses from a neighbour, and I must say, I looked quite different! Was impressed myself, and I knew others were too, as people gave me THE look, you know! (Atleast, they didn’t drop any coins into my hands, so I assume it was all for good 
) Anyway, so, you go, find that pair and make sure you wear it on at all times…when you are waiting for the bus or train, when you are paying your bill at the till. And wear it especially during window-shopping…then nobody will think you are a kanjoos-makhichoos! They will probably think you are a film-star or something, and will start hoping that you actually peep into their store! He he! So wear it at all times, even when it is raining
2- Find an oversized handbag
Gone are the days of mid-sized handbags, into which we pushed that bulging 
coin-purse, dried compact, broken Lakme lipstick, army-transmitter-sized mobile, etc. You must find one really large, oversized handbag, into which you can dump just about anything you see or like (Just not a poodle). And voila! Now your bag can hold loads of useless things, like er..er..say, a wallet with expired credit cards and ex-visiting cards (you know, the ones you managed to have printed before you were kicked out of your job), a dirty nail file from which flakes drop down like snow, the hair straightener that almost burnt your hair(!!), crappy romantic novel, electronic Sudoku that you never attempt, I-Pod ofcourse, etc. etc. Talking of which, I came across this interesting article on the internet. P.S: The more outrageous the colour, the better! Like say, replace that boring maroon with a disgustingly vibrant purple or mustard (a very dignified term for something that is crap, er, literally!) or a bag with a metallic finish or something on those lines. Get the drift?
Remember, you have to get the bag (and other accessories) do the talking! Or else you will, and that would be a disaster
3- CC or TT outfit
Wondering what this is? Its either a crisp cotton shirt (My personal favourite would be white!) or tight T-shirts with tiny sleeves (in those days, the tailor down the street used to call this Mega-Sleeves… I wonder why, as they were not Mega in any way! Or did he mean the arms? Eughhh…!) 
Anyway, both of these outfits will give that uber-cool look. Guaranteed! Definitely not loose, roomy clothes. The fit has to be ‘just right’. And with an outfit like this, you just cannot go wrong! (Images: Courtesy karenmiller dot com)
4- Accessorize
For heaven’s sake, get rid of those ‘matching-matching kalar-kalar yearrings’. Gone are the days of wearing colourful mid-sized earrings to match the dress! These days, you either stick to an elegant Solitaire (yeah, just look at Ash Rai Bach) or classy chandelier or glass/bead earrings.
Again, depending on your outfit, you might need a nice long glass bead chain, that reaches all the way till your waist (even if you don’t have one..er..the waist, I mean )
5- Crowning glory – Loose and Boots
And the finale – One swift stroke changes you from Behenji to Hot Babe. And that is: Hair.You gotta leave it loose. Look at our tinsel town stars!
To prove my point, take a look at the foll. ’stars’:-
1) Rani Aunty
2) Ash Didi
3) Asin Behenji
Now, look at the transformation! Notice the Hairdo and the Solitaire!! SEE!
1) Ash hottie 2) Asin coolie…oops…I just meant COOL-ie
(Apologies for not being able to locate a picture of a hot Rani, guess even WWW is bored of her!)
(Pics courtesy desihits dot com)
Even if you look like crap, atleast you can ‘assume’ you look good! If you really want, you could probably keep the hair off your face with those oversized glasses. But the most important thing is, (seemingly) unruly (but carefully crafted) strands of hair, must keep falling about your face, even at the risk of you looking like that poodle! And, you just HAVE to remember, to keep adjusting your hair, and pushing those strands away from your eyes, and behind your ears, to let that solitaire sparkle the wits out of the person in front of you!
Shoes, ofcourse, are very crucial in deciding the look. So, if you go for the Tight-Tees cum Smart Jacket, then opt for snazzy boots with a little feminine frill, perhaps? 
If its the crisp cottons, then choose smart shoes/sandals. Sandals, again, must either fully cover your feet, OR a delicate peep-toe.
So, lovely girls, go and get that haeeeep look and tell me how it goes.
Will try it out myself too, if its a success
How to make authentic-looking paneer-tikka in just two minutes. And that’s a promise!
Step 1- Place non-stick tava on hob, turn on the heat.
Step 2- Take a minute to chop the paneer into large cubes, soak in an instant marinade of ginger-garlic paste . Add a pinch of haldi, chilli powder, talcum powder…you get the drift, right? Just dump all the powders you find in your kitchen!
Step 3- By now, you see those fumes from the Tava, don’t you? Go ahead! Drop those cubes in gently. Drizzle with oil.
Step 4- Go for a walk, a crap or a pee. Whatever! Just goooooooooo!
Step 5- The final step! Within another minute (or so), you will sense that burning smell. Now, return and take a look at that pan!
You will quickly realise how authentic that Tikka looks. Beautifully smeared with charcoal all over. Covered in smoke! Infact, your entire kitchen will resemble a tandoor!
(On second thoughts, we could probably rename this ‘Smoked Tandoori Paneer Tikka’ or something that sounds just as exotic!)
So, all you need to do now is scrape the stuff off the Tava, spread on a white porcelain plate, garnish with fresh coriander and add a dollop of tangy chutney or ketchup.
(Awwww…..how I wish I had taken a picture of the da*n dish yesterday! You would have loved to see it!)
Bon Appétit!
Was just wondering….
Which is more therapeutic?
a) De-cluttering
b) Shopping
Please leave your answers in the comments section.
Kind Attention: Male readers. There is no ‘Others’ option.
‘In silent sufferance” is the fortnightly theme on S&Co. and this is my contribution.
Eleven long hours its been,
Since the shores of my homeland seen
The inflight music, an incessant drone
Someone, lend me an ear-phone!
I stretch, I bend, and wince and moan,
Muffled sounds, I piteously groan
I turn to my left, and then to my right,
Arrrgh! This is one horrible night!
Until finally, with valour I stare
At the pot-bellied man, who polished his fare!
He looks at me, lets a toothy smile,
Phew! That gust of wind smells vile!!
The aloo-tikki has done its job
That awful mooli on the hob!
With a happy ‘Burrrrp’, he rubs his tummy
Winks at me, and asks ‘Some rummy?’
I weakly smile, pretend I’m homesick
In unstated misery, I see my watch tick
When? Oh when..will this journey end
Oh! Run for cover! He’s going to bend!
How I wish I could summon the crew
And have thrown this monster, into the loo!
Or push him out of the aircraft? Don’t!!
I would if I could, but I can’t so I won’t!
Please let me know what you think. I think it needs a lot of re-work. Editing, Tweaking, whatever. Suggestions/critique eagerly sought
I hate dentists. Period.
No, Comma.
Because, yesterday, I had a very interesting session at the Dentistry.
It started with a very sweet-looking dentist asking me, ‘Is there any change in your medical history?’
While I thought it was absurd to have ‘medical history for a darn tooth’, she was so polite and kind, that I just couldn’t be rude. I replied in the negative.
And ofcourse, I didn’t want to admit that of late, hot/cold stuff sent that slightest twinge of pain in the tooth (if you know what I mean). An admission of that sort would definitely mean a filling … or a root-canal… or even an extraction (at worst!)
And I wasn’t going to give them ideas! They were only trainees afterall. What if they decided to ‘experiment’ stuff on me?!
Talking of ‘experimenting’, while I sat there, dumb and numb, another girl walked up, and carefully explained something to these girls – instructions to operate the machinery!! ‘Left lever to blow air, and right, for suction’. WTH was going on? ‘That’s for the tools, and this lever is to lower the chair…blah..blah…’
I looked around nervously, until I spotted the chief doctor. I flashed a smile at him, hoping that he wouldn’t have forgotten me from our last visit (You know… the time when he tried to examine Rishi’s teeth, and the little brat kicked him! Hmm … on second thoughts, I guess I rather prefer him not remembering!)
Ok, so these Finnish trainee dentists (with all due respect) proceeded to show me X-Rays from the previous appointment, and explained the treatment.
Now, I was sooper-doooper impressed. When I visit my old dentist in India, the first thing he does, is call his ancient assistant, and scan through fourty equally ancient manuscripts…I mean, ledgers, find my name, and related notes scribbled in different coloured ink all over the yellow, tattered pages. While all these ‘trainees’ did was deftly click a mouse, and Lo! It was all there on the computer…the so-called ‘medical history’ and whatever!
Happily, I offered to help the girls, by opening my mouth wide, and explaining that a filling was ’supposedly cracked’.
What happened next was rather interesting. This girl quickly called out to her assistant, and then she called out to the chief Doc. He was so charming… he took a look and said ‘Wow! This looks just like the beginning of the English Chunnel’!
So, the next two hours were a session of intense drilling and filling, and re-filling. As Chief Doc. very kindly explained, the ‘filling was so much, that if I went swimming, the weight (- of the filling, mind you) – would drag me down!’
I must admit I was completely enthralled by their procedures and state-of-the-art equipment. At first they gave a delicious local anasthetic…it was just like chewing-gum. When the gums became a little numb, they injected a more intense local anasthetic, and it was fun. It increased my heart beat, and then, I couldn’t feel a thing. I mean, I knew they were knocking out bits of my tooth and all, but there was no such thing as pain or blood.
Unlike my previous experiences, where I would have to stop my old dentist every second or third minute, to either complain of the pain, or to tiredly spit out blood like a war-hero, along with pieces of cement (or composite or amalgam, as the case might be!)
They even gave me a pair of goggles to wear, so my eyes wouldn’t be hurt. Now, wasn’t that cool? That’s why I thought to myself, ‘dentists aren’t bad afterall!’
Finally, it was over. My jaws ached badly. The girls were visibly tired. I was exhausted too, but satisfied, and relieved. Normally, I would shy away from ‘re-appointments’ but when they suggested I return in a couple of weeks, I agreed quite happily.
I mean, with this sort of pain-free, professional treatment, ‘Yeah! Sure! Why ever not?’
Just as I left, the Chief Doc came over to enquire how I felt. (More impressed, by the service!) I gushed over, about the girls being so good and all that.
He seemed really pleased. He said, ‘Perfect! I’m glad you’re feeling well. I promise you, the next visit will be much easier!’
‘Thank you’, I gratefully smiled back.
‘Definitely! Next time will be very smooth. As you know, this was an awkward one to do! It being the very last tooth’
I nodded wisely.
He nodded wisely.
The girls looked at me, with sympathy, and also nodded wisely.
When I suddenly realised… GOSH, IT WASN’T THE LAST TOOTH I CAME FOR!! IT WAS THE SECOND-LAST!
Ofcourse, it was too late. And I didn’t want to burst the ‘happy bubble’ of those who assumed they had just performed some exquisite restoration work!
So now, I have a non-tooth that has been excavated and restored, a broken tooth that is painful, and rows of other teeth that used to be OK until yesterday, but that have a very strange tingling sensation today!
The good thing is, I also have another appointment in Nov.
‘I hate dentists’ … err…have I mentioned that already?
Cheerio!
(Signing off, tired)
Today being the eve of my ‘baby’s’ third birthday, I decide to give him a nice magical movie evening!
So here we are, cuddled on the sofa, watching ‘Aladin and the King of Thieves’.
Me: ‘Baby?’
Baby: Silence
Me: ‘Are you hungry?’
Baby: More silence, mouth open, gaping at Aladin and Jasmine
Me (patience wearing out): ‘BABY! Hungry?’
Baby (finally): ‘But sorry, Amma, I’m watching Aladin.’
Me (gushing about my ‘baby’ talking so much!): ‘Oh shooo shweeeet!’
Baby (without blinking): ‘Is Aladin going to kiss the girl now?’
Me: ????****!!!!!???****
*** Happy Birthday, my dearest little boy! ***
I do like Indiblogger. Not because they have given me a good rank. My rank, infact falls, every month, and is down from 79 to 65!!
But I do like the fact that (a) they provide a decent platform for bloggers to share their work. And (b) the Blog of the Month contests.
Talking of which, my blog has been nominated this time (don’t ask by whom!! I helped myself ).
So, in case you haven’t already seen your favourite blogger listed there, or haven’t cast your vote for someone else already, please do vote for me.
Here is the link to VOTE.
And this is the title of my blog: ‘I am no writer’ by ‘Pal’
These are the links to the posts that I dare categorise as ‘poetry’….he he!
1- The Ghost (all you lovely folks have already been very receptive to this spooky post)
2- A walk in the rain (this one will make you go ‘awwwwww….’)
3- End of the road (this is my favourite)
4- I yearn (this isn’t mushy at all, go ahead and read it)
5- Holi hai (wait..there’s a twist here..its not about Holi after all!)
On another note, many of my blogger friends have been nominated too. Ozzy, Pushpy, Shail, Aaroo, Tikuli, Prats (to name a few) … so if you choose to vote for them, I won’t get back at you – at all
You can vote for upto 5 favourite blogs. So pliss to remember to vote for my blog, also titled ‘I am no Writer’
OK then, so in case you haven’t done so already, please log into your Indiblogger account and vote!
Though not a big fan of TAGS, its been quite some time since I did one, and I kind of miss them! Spotted this new tag today, on this interesting blog and decided to take it up. With the sole intention of passing it on to you folks
Here we go!
RULE 1 – You can only say Guilty or Innocent.
RULE 2 – You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!
RULE 3 – Copy and paste this into your notes, delete mine and type in your answers and tag your friends to answer this.
Ever kissed someone of the same sex. Innocent
Eeeks!
Danced on a table in a bar? Innocent
Oh God!
Ever told a lie? Guilty!
Ofcourse! Come on!
Kissed a picture? Guilty!
Why not!
Asked someone to marry you. Guilty!
Some things just ought to be done in Life
Slept in until 5 PM? Guilty!
Will sleep all day if I had a chance!
Fallen asleep at work/school? Guilty!
Yippee! Happy to be Guilty about this.
Held a snake? Innocent
Yuck!
Been suspended from school? Unfortunately, quite Innocent
Tried it in college, but the Profs. forgave us ‘bunking’ classes for a movie because we apologised on being caught!
Stolen from a store? Guilty!
In my childhood 
Been fired from a job? Innocent
Does indirect layoff count as being fired?
Done something you regret? Guilty!
All the time! Like the pizza I ate yesterday or the all-butter croissants the day before, or…never mind!!
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Guilty!
He he! Love this ques… makes me happy!
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Innocent
Hope to do it this winter!
Kissed in the rain? Sinnocent
Next thing on the To Do list
Sat on a roof top? Guilty!
Friends, rooftop, stars in the sky…good old days!
Kissed someone you shouldn’t? Sadly, Innocent
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Innocent
Donated Blood? Innocent
Though I tried to, but they sent me back saying the Iron count was low!
Eaten alligator meat? Innocent
YUCK!
Eaten cheesecake? Guilty!
Yep yep, and hated it!
Still love someone you shouldn’t? Innocent
N/A. Btw, I believe there are No rules in love!
Have/had a tattoo? Innocent
Another ‘To Do’ item now!
Liked someone, but will never tell who? Innocent
Always make it a point to tell
Been too honest? Guilty!
That’s what is called ‘being stupid’!
Ruined a surprise? Innocent
Am really good at keeping surprises.
Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you couldn’t walk afterwards? Guilty!
Erased someone in your friends list? Guilty!
Wicked! Do it on regular basis.
Dressed in a woman’s clothes (if you’re a guy) or man’s clothes (if you’re a girl)? Guilty!
Dressed like Superman once No questions, please!
AND NOW, THE INTERESTING PART.
I hereby tag the foll. people :-
Aaroo
Dmanji
Dreamer
Hitchy
Monika
Prats
Supps
Yashada
Ganga
Yuva
and IHM
Go on now….your turn to bare…the truth, I mean!!
Edited to add: Sigh! Seems like a few people have already done this tag…as per reports from Hitchy Bhai. So, if you have already done, it, do leave the link, so I can read!
Once again, a very Happy Deepavali!! or Happy Diwali!!! (as you like it!)
If you are reading this post, it means you had a nice and safe Diwali, and I hope it was exciting and happy too
Our Diwali morning went off rather quietly (I had to go out on some work, so ‘Knight and Baby Hunk’ – read ‘Hubby and Kid’ remained indoors), but the evening was lovely. A new friend had invited us over for a fireworks party, and OH MY! What a range of fireworks there was, and all by the banks of the river Thames.
Also, this is my little boy’s first active Deepavali…meaning, he was a real baby until now, so didn’t actively participate with the crackers et al, but yesterday was different. The first time I showed him a sparkler, he RAN!! I had to chase him and bring him back. Slowly, he got into the groove of things, and by the end of the evening, he had held four sparklers, and had watched open-mouthed, amazed at the countless colourful, sparkling stars that lit up the cloudess night sky.
My only crib is that we didn’t have the foresight to have the camera ready. I wish we had taken a couple of pictures!
[Special thanks to little Pixie, for suggesting that we make fond memories of our first Diwali away from home].
And now, back to AWARDS! Yippee!
Swaram had very sweetly given me all these awards…
- I love your Blog (goes to all the blogroll)
- Addicting Blog Award (again, to the blogroll)
- Inspirational blogger (I pass this on to ‘TATTOO’, for her beautiful work, though she hardly blogs anymore)
Dmanji had received tons of awards in Sep. and had passed it onto his Blogroll and Commentators.
- I choose this one – ‘Blogbuddies’, and pass it onto EVERYONE in my blogroll and all those who are kind enough to lurk or leave comments
- I also pick Super Scribbler, in order to share it with:
Pixie
Swaram
Hitchy (Now take your turn on Scrabble!!)
Monika
Ritu
Vimmu
OG
Ganga
Smitha
Urmi
Barath
Aaroo
Dmanji
Prats
- Out of sheer greed, I pick this award too, especially because I want to pass it on to some exceptional bloggers: The Most Stylish Blogger award.
MM
Piper
Solilo
Vipul
Pragya
Dreamer
So, that’s it, people!! Have a happy Sunday, and a good week ahead.
Cheerio….
There’s been too much going on of late, and Time just seems too less.
As most of you who are on FB know, I had an eventful Friday.
I turned over a new leaf and set the alarm to wake me at 5 in the morning. Which it did. And the sleepy-head that I am/was, I walked into the kitchen quite hazily, only to find the washing machine making some queer whirrrrrrrrrrr sounds, as if groaning from stomach-ache. So I turned it off, and opened the door (its a front-loading thing), and guess what? Water GUSHED out! I shut it back immediately (what presence of mind, eh?), but could still hear the water POURING INTO the machine. That’s when I hit the panic button. No outflow, and extremely high inflow!
Knight in shining armour, Hubby, came to rescue me. But Lo! The valve to shut the water inflow was MISSING! The main valve was rusted and refused to budge a millimetre. While knight oiled the valve, the machine threatened to burst open with a vengeance, so I had to succumb and open it myself. This time, however, I placed a bucket under the door, so managed to catch half the water atleast! My exercise for the day/week/month was complete, as I mopped the rest of the water from the floor!
When the precious main valve finally agreed to turn, the entire house went still for a moment. And we took a deep breath! No water for the next couple of hours, but atleast, there wasn’t going to be any more flooding!
So yeah, that’s how Friday went!
Saturday was better, with a fantastic birthday party at Sanyash’s place. They had kept a Racer theme, and the hosts and guests both did absolute justice to it. I was the official camera(wo)man and had a great time. My little brat, needless to say, raced away until it was time to leave.
Sunday, again, proved mildly eventful. I opened the fridge first thing in the morning, and Lo and Behold! The satchet of milk I had bought on Sat. evening had disappeared!! I looked all over the place. No sign! It finally struck me. The entire thing had leaked out, and the vegetable trays (just below the shelf) were full of milk!! So, another round of cleaning (without swearing, can you beat that? *Patting my back**) and there began our Sunday.
Monday was pretty calm.
Tuesday and Wednesday went in our regular routine…outing..grocery shopping..blah..blah.
And here we are, on the brink of Deepavali 2009! With no plans whatsoever. Infact, this is our first Diwali outside home. We are usually in India at this time, and yes, feeling somewhat homesick
But let’s see… maybe, Diwali will have something pleasant in store for us?
Cheerio, folks! Have a very Happy Diwali too
She would sit hunched,
Every night.
Ever watchful
Of Ghosts
Lurking behind shadows.
Waiting patiently,
Every night.
Adamantly keeping open
Drooping, heavy eyelids,
Ears tuned to whispers from the unknown.
She would fall into an abyss
Some nights,
Of sleep, so overpowering
He would then appear
In her dreams.
Caressing her gently
At night…
His touch, cool and tender
on her hot forehead.
But when she awoke, startled
She would find darkness
Every night!
And then she would wish for
An apparition, even frightful
Of the ghost of her lover!
For ghosts,
Were more tangible
Than dreams.
(Girls/Guys, you know that I know a sh*t about poetry..but I attempted this on some sudden …ahem.. inspiration. Please let me know, HONESTLY, what you think? Does it seem, even from a distance, something like a poem?… Thankidou!)
Dear Bloggers/Readers,
A friend of mine (who blogs here) has started raising funds to help the victims of floods in Andhra Pradesh.
An extract from her mail:
‘…As a pay back to the society to which we come from we thought of appealing to all of you to contribute what you can, so that we can relieve the misery of our fellow citizens to the extent we can.’
For details of the fund account or address to which cheques may be sent, please head over to the appeal in her blog.
So, guys and girls, its up to you…if you can contribute, even a teeny tiny little bit, please do so.
Like they say, every little helps.
And, what goes around, always comes around
If possible, and if you are interested, please can you also help spread the word around?
Thank you!!
Adios!
Happy Weekend everybody! And let’s begin it on this nice note…
Dreamer has awarded me with this precious ‘I Adore your Blog’ award.
![J'Adore_Tien_Blog_Award_2009[2]](http://writerzblock.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/jadore_tien_blog_award_20092.jpg?w=160&h=200 "J'Adore_Tien_Blog_Award_2009[2]")
While I most gratefully accept it, I would also (rather promptly) like to pass it on to the foll. people, whose blogs are on the list of blogs that I admire…
1- Quirky Indian (though Quirky never bothers to acknowledge the award on the blog, or pass it on!)
2- Phoenix (for her wonderful sense of humour, and daring)
3- Shail (especially for her latest poem on Love)
4- Ratna (for being a wonderful writer..if you haven’t done so already, you have got to read her ‘Art of Having a Crush’)
5- Shankari (her stories lay the truth so bare, it could rip your soul apart)
Cheerio!!
P.S: Dmanji is on an award-receiving spree, and has ever so sweetly passed them on to people in his blogroll..so I am going to ransack his collection of awards soon, and pass them on too
I desisted breaking my siesta. Loud TV Soaps…Louder jazz!
But, it was ‘kaapi’ time.
Entered the hall…
Silence.
I stared, incoherent.
The photograph beamed at me.
The wife was long gone! My little ones, migrated.
It was Just me. An entire evening lay ahead!
I slumped onto the sofa. Grabbed the remote. Turned the volume to 50.
====
(Please excuse the silly title).
Our paternal house was beyond boundary. Mamma never took us there. The sign board outside the big rusted gate partly read: ‘The house of the Sunk’ I say ‘partly’ because moss had worn the gate as much as time had ravaged the house itself. Old, grey and deserted, is how I always remember seeing it.
‘Nisha! Neeessshhhaaaa….’, came a loud yell from the balcony. I looked up, to see Mamma waving out frantically to me. ‘Come upstairs RIGHT NOW!’ The timid girl that I was, I rose quickly, dusted the mud and stones off my frock and waved a quick ‘good-bye’ to my friends. They didn’t so much as bother to wave back. They just moved in closer, making a smaller circle, and continued with their game of Antakshari.
I climbed the three flights of stairs slowly, knowing Mamma would be angry at me at not having completed my homework before going out to play. The light was out. The grill gates were open. There was nothing sizzling in the kitchen. Mamma sat quietly in a corner of the sofa, just next to the telephone. She held her head in her hands. The pallu of her sari seemed to be wet. ‘Had she been crying?’, I wondered.
As I tiptoed into the room, Mamma looked up. She looked terrible. Shaken!
‘Mamma?’ I ventured softly.
She held out her arms and I involuntarily ran into them. For the next few minutes she became the child, and I, the parent.
Mamma finally set me down on the sofa, right next to her.
‘There’s some bad news…’
I gaped. In all of my twelve long years, I had never been told these words. I stared blankly. My heart raced. (In retrospect, I think the only thing that was I was thinking of, was Dadda). I made a quick prayer to my Friend upstairs. ‘Please let Dadda be safe! I don’t want anything else. Not even the new Casio for my birthday. Just bring Dadda home, please!’
‘Its Dadi-ma’, whispered Mamma.
‘Dadi-ma?’ I asked awkwardly. It took me several moments to associate an image with the word.
My mind raced back a couple of years. We were in the ‘House of the Sunk…’. A frail old woman seated on a rickety wooden chair. Her back was hunched. She peered at me from above the heavy glasses that sat perched upon her nose. Mamma and Dadda stood behind me, while the lady, who had been introduced to me as ‘Dadi-ma’ examined me. Atleast that was the way I felt. After having asked me the standard set of questions a stranger would… (My age, which school I went to, how I performed in my studies, etc.), she pulled me close to her, and most unexpectedly, planted a kiss on my forehead.
As I jerked back, I noticed her sparkling emerald earrings. They reminded me of Alice in Wonderland.
A sudden gust of wind made me tremble slightly. Through the grilled windows, I saw the leaves rustling, rather wildly, in what seemed to be the onset of a storm.
‘Get her my shawl’, Dadi-ma ordered Dadda.
‘Sorry, Ma. I am never entering THAT room again’, Dadda replied, pointing to a dark room in the corner of the hall. The lights were so dim that one could hardly make anything out, leave alone the green painted doors.
‘The house of the S U N K….’, the thought made me tremble more.
‘You are always silly! No wonder you married…’ started Dadi-ma.
I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, which was more like a brawl.
Mamma whisked me away into the car that was parked outside the rear door of the house. I watched the shadows of Dadda and Dadi-ma move animatedly. As I turned my gaze to the rest of the backyard, I noticed a heavy iron bucket standing, nay, dancing, at the edge of the well. A wicked-looking cat jumped near it, making the bucket sink right in, and me shiver in fear.
I think I fell asleep in the car. I never saw her again.
Until the phone call that Mamma had received this evening.
‘What happened to Dadi-ma?’, I asked, my voice quavering.
‘She… she…had an accident. Slipped in her bathroom.’
‘Oh! Is that all?’ I replied, a wave of relief washing over me.
‘No, Nisha. That isn’t all. She broke her hip. And when they tried to operate, she lost’
Tears started streaming from my eyes.
‘Don’t cry, my dear. We need to go there’
I didn’t reply.
All my growing years, Mamma and Dadda had kept me away from my Dadi-ma. I have never known the luxury of being spoilt rotten by a loving Grandmother. And all because these two people fought with one old lady.. Cut her out of their life. And mine too. And now? Now, she wasn’t even there. ‘If I could have just one chance!’ I pined. ‘To bring a little sunshine into my Dadi-ma’s life’.
If I had my way, I would pack a little bag with my worldly possessions and move to the ‘House of the S u n k…’. My Dadi-ma and I would spend hours together, reading ancient manuscripts from her worn-down library, tending to the wildly overgrown weeds in her garden, discussing the lovely tea-parties she had had when she herself, had been a little girl like me.
And at night, when the wind shrieked through the mango and jackfruit trees, I would huddle in my pretty lace nightgown and Dadi-ma would tell me stories to keep my fears at bay.
I missed her. Missed that very special bond (that I never had) that exists between a grandparent and a grandchild.
‘I hate you!’ I suddenly barked.
Mamma was startled.
‘Yes! I hate you!’ I shrieked and ran into my room.
‘Nisha! Baby! What’s the matter?’ Mamma ran behind me.
‘Dadi-ma is dead! And you never let me meet her EVER!’ I sobbed.
It took Mamma a minute to understand what was going on. As I sat crying amidst a pile of school books and pencils, she seated herself next to me.
I refused to look up at her. I could never forgive her! And Dadda.
‘Nisha!’
‘No! I am not forgiving you this time!’ I swore.
‘Nisha! Listen. There’s more…’
Now I looked up. Yeah! Dadi-ma must have left those priceless emerald earrings that she knew I loved so much, as her legacy for me. Tears pricked my eyes again, as I thought of the old lady, so forgiving and so generous…but had died unloved and uncared by her own!
‘Nisha! STOP that crying!’, Mamma commanded.
I wiped my tears (and my nose) on the edge of my sleeve.
‘You must know something, dear. Your Dadda and I met when we were very young, and got married against your Dadi-ma’s wishes. You know that, don’t you?’
I nodded.
‘So! Dadi-ma was very angry, and we moved into this city, and started our life together. And then you came! And we were both very happy. Dadda missed his Mummy, of course, but then, he knew that she and I would never gel. She comes from a very orthodox background, and I am rather modern in my thoughts. Do you understand what I am saying?’
‘I…I think so…’ I stammered.
‘OK…so, Dadi-ma was really cross! And refused to have any ties with us. So, recently, when she slipped and broke her hip, she kind of.. lost the use of her legs’.
‘Awww…..’, it was slowly sinking into me.
‘And she cannot live by herself any more!’
‘Oh! Wow! So, Mamma, are we going to live with her? Really?’ I muttered excitedly.
I instantly dreamt of the day Mamma, Dadda and I, would alight in front of the ‘House of the S u n k…’. The gates would open, as if by magic. The thick, overgrown weeds would miraculously make way for us as we walked into the house. Dadi-ma would await us in her big arm-chair. Her black cat would purr softly by her side. And when I bow to take her blessings, she would hand me a little silk red bag…and in it, would be those emeralds…
‘Nisha! Did you find that funny? Why are you grinning like an IDIOT?’ Mamma suddenly lashed out at me.
‘Hmph? Hmph?’ I muttered.
‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’
I smiled sheepishly, the effect of my day-dreaming still engulfing me in a warm, happy glow.
‘I said, Dadi-ma is coming to live with US! In our one-bedroom apartment!’
‘Whaaaaat?’
‘Yes! That’s the whole point! The old hag was so angry at your Dadda for having married me, that she gave away her palatial house in charity! And has reduced us all to the streets! And now, she is coming to live with us. And will make my life miserable!’
At this, Mamma started to cry again, until her eyes were swollen and could shed no more tears.
I gaped at her.
‘Its OK Mamma…that was a frightful house anyway… House of the SUNK…we could have never stayed ALIVE there, isn’t it?’ I tried to console her.
‘You silly child! That was the ‘House of the Sunkuvars’. The Sunkuvars were a very wealthy family, with plenty of property and gems and money! And this old woman has not only written us out of her will, she has even donated the bungalow that Dadda and me were hoping to move into, when she managed to forgive us!’
I shifted uncomfortably.
Suddenly, things did not seem so rosy. There wasn’t going to be any magic after all. No vicious buckets dancing on the ledge of a well, no overgrown weeds. Only a dirty black cat, probably!
‘Our hopes are sunk’, Mamma continued with a resigned air.
I rubbed her palm.
A thought suddenly flashed across my mind, making me smile. ‘Maybe, we could rename our home, ‘House of the Sunk!’’. I didn’t dare mention this aloud. Mamma would kill me!
==============
(Wrote this short story for a fortnightly writing exercise on S & Co. on Ryze network - the theme being Old Houses with a line/phrase on the gatepost).
When? Oh! When?
When will B(/K)ollywood learn to be original? For how many more centuries will be continue to copy plots and music?
I really was looking forward to watching Dil Bole Hadippa, but then I read Quirky’s exhaustive review, and decided to skip it. The movie, I mean.
When I accidentally came across the story-line, I was disgusted, as this is a straight lift off the English movie: She’s the man. Now that, was a thoroughly enjoyable movie. So, I was upset to see Yashraj has simply hadap-ed an English movie, instead of letting their creative juices flow. I guess all they want is a juicy cash flow!
Ofcourse they will rake in the moolah. They have * handsome Shahid * Nautankey Rakhi! * And crafty Rani. (I somehow find her sexy smile rather artificial and forced!)
Call me crazy, but am I the only one in the world to think Rani looks worn?!She doesn’t quite have that refreshing charm she exuded in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai or Ghulam (and I absolutely loved her in those movies!!). And to think of watching Rakhi Sawant, that itself is sheer torture. Much as I respect her outspoken-ness, she is a little too brash for my liking!
On another note, Aishwarya Rai seems to have gained a few tyres. Check out this video. Cheap thrill, that – the much-hyped Bacchhan Bahu isn’t quite the slender reed she used to be.
Now, now, now, Don’t you go pointing fingers at me! Neither am I a former Miss World nor do I get paid Crores of rupees, while being adored by the new Mummas-and-Pappas.
Another tidbit for you… when I tried to Google ‘Aishwarya Rai’ , this is one of the answers that came up featuring a link to ‘Wikianswers‘. What a waste of Internet resources. We Indians are crazy about ‘our stars’, aren’t we?!
P!ng! I have news!!
No! Its not what you think. Its not on the personal front This is an interesting piece of info for all my Bangalore blogger buddies.
Most of my friends are enthusiastic foodies like me. And more often than not, we spend hours arguing about the ‘venue’ for a get-together or party or even a simple girlie’s (or boys, for that matter) hangout. The key points are either ambience or cuisine.
It is indeed challenging to zero in on a venue, especially when there is so much choice! You look around, and you are virtually mobbed by a variety of restaurants offering mouth-watering delicacies.
This is where P ! N G enters the picture.
A new entrant in Bangalore, P!ng Restaurant and Dessert Bay is a speciality restaurant, unique in more than one aspect.
These guys specialise in Dim Sum cuisine and offer around 35 unique varieties of Dim Sum. [Dim Sum cuisine, while very well known in the US, South East Asia and China, is not very well known in India. P!ng aspires to popularise Dim Sum cuisine for what it is - large variety, impeccable taste , great flavours and healthy ingredients]. (Now, that part is copy-pasted from their website )
(By the way, they even have an exciting Children’s Menu).
The Dessert Bay (open from 10 am till 12 midnight!), is targetted more at the young student crowd, offers intriguing mocktails, ice cream and delicious pastries.
Here is the link to the address and map. They are open 7 days a week - 12:00 pm to 3:30 pm and 7:00 pm to 11:30 pm.
If you are wondering why I wrote this, no, I have absolutely no ulterior motives (except, probably, the fact that this is owned by Rajanikanth*)!
I love going to restaurants that really have a difference! Locale, ambience, or Menu…anything that lends a certain charm to the place.
From the website and reviews, it seems like P!ng has it all! Try it out for yourself.
P.S. Did you know, they offer a free starter and dessert! He he! Now, if that isn’t motivation enough, then what is?!
You are also invited to follow P!ng on Facebook
(Pics: Courtesy: http://www.thepingrestaurant.com/)
* P.S. By ‘Rajanikanth’, I did not mean the Actor, but a friend of mine
Really! What is it about friends?! They add so much happiness to Life!
As most of my FB friends know, I met up with a friend from college, after ELEVEN years! And it was like catching up from just yesterday. There was none of that foreignness or formality that we feel in newer friendships/relationships. We talked about this and that.. the past..eccentricities of college life, and the present and future plans (however vague or weird they might be!).
This afternoon, again, I made a long-distance call to a friend in Chennai. We have this strange relationship, where we never extend the courtesy to say ‘Hello’s or ‘Good-bye’s, but when we do talk, we gush over without inhibition. And there’s no grudge against the other for not having kept in touch!
It is tantamount to recognizing the fact, that that is a unique relationship, and is exactly the way it is… and you want neither more nor less. And that, I think is the basis for any sustainable friendship.
To be really honest, I find it extremely difficult to make friends, especially as I grow older. Because there are such few people with whom one can have that perfect wavelength. In all these years of post-college days, I can literally count my ‘newer’ friends on fingertips. Its that few!
I am not an anti-social person but I guess I am a bit of a loner, as I would rather be by myself, than gossip with an acquaintance!
Any day, I would (like the rest of you) prefer to be in the company (however short that might last) of my closest friends….
Those friends with whom I can talk endlessly. Where time runs out but conversation doesn’t. And where no Judgements are passed.
And there are the ones with whom I can spend an evening, over a cup of coffee (however badly made!), in complete silence.
To both sets of friends (and these very often merge!), I just want to say ‘Thank you’ for adding Happiness to Life.
These days, ofcourse, I have a bunch of friends whom I’ve never met, but who read me, and always leave pleasant words, without ever judging me or my thoughts. Thank you, too, friends from Blog-samaj. I do hope I can meet you some day!
Happy Weekend, everyone!
