I am hooked... finally!!!

I accept that I am averse to change… or anything new for that matter. I’ve noticed for a while now. Quite late to the cyber world, I was probably one from the last lot who created an orkut profile. I avoided Facebook until I got atleast 75 requests and finally gave in. After so many weeks of steering away from Farmville despite the discussion my friends and cousins had, everytime telling me that it was fun, I got weak today when my sister asked me to look after her farm until she returned from vacation. After doing the minimum that her farm required, I promptly sent myself a request from her id and went ahead to create my farm. Now that I have started off, I am checking my farm every 5 mins to see if my crop is ready for harvest… am I addicted already??

For this, I just have my no-work office status to thank. Had I not so much time in hand to kill, I promise I wouldn’t have even peeked into any farm. Talking of farming, in so many years, growing plants/gardening has never been close to me. In fact at school when we had to grow plants for Work Experience class, I made sure either amma or my sister planted as well as nurtured them.

Last week, our company started a green drive and gave away Basil plants to all employees. I carried one home as Basil plants are considered sacred and having one in your home could bring in good fortune. I found a nice pot for it and placed it at a corner in our balcony. I have now grown so fond of it that I moved my regular exercises to the balcony so I can be in conversation with the plant even while I am developing a few muscles. I have heard that plants respond to speech. If this is true, my Basil plant is sure to flourish. Besides, this may be the small start to my home garden to come J

The Kolam outside our house

It was yet silent and dark outside. A pleasant wind was blowing as I opened the main door of our house. The entire building was in deep slumber. I cautiously swept the area in front of our door and squat on the floor wondering what design to draw today. I was doing this after very long and was immediately reminded of my younger days at home as a little one when my sister and I fought about whose turn it was to draw the kolam.

Amma would wake up early in the morning and get the area outside the house ready before waking us up. The one whose turn it was that day, would get out of bed with a lot of effort and start drawing with the fine powder even while murmuring curses under the breath. We always wondered why it was so necessary to do this ritual every morning and always tried convincing Amma that this could be postponed to another time of the day. But Amma was always stubborn. She said that this was the way of welcoming Lakshmi Devi to the house without which, she would turn away angrily.

As years went by Amma stopped pestering us in the mornings. In the afternoons though, after our maid cleaned the kitchen, I would draw small kolams in front of the puja area. The days Patti would come home, just for impression sake, I would draw bigger kolams concentrating more on the steadiness of the lines. “Shilpa draws the Shangu(conch) very well”, Patti would say and I would feel elated. Slowly I developed a liking for this and soon had my own book of kolams which I would fill during lazy afternoons, copying from the Mangayar Malar magazine that Amma subscribed to, or sometimes from Amma’s old kolam book.

As days passed, studies, tuitions, exams took more priority and this hobby was kind of forgotten. It was only once in a year, the night prior to Diwali, when my sis and I would sit out there for hours drawing large and intricate designs, and filling it strenuously with the choicest colours. This too was lost in the tide of time as I moved out for my PG first and job later.

Yesterday, when I was out on my weekly shopping spree, I stumbled on a vendor who had the white powder heaped in front of him. Flooded with memories from my childhood, I bought some of it hoping to carry on the tradition in my home.

I have changed...

I spent a few minutes today reading one of my age-old blogs and boy, was I impressed?! I never realized then that I have a flair for writing. Now, when I have started writing again after a break of few years, I see in myself neither talent nor passion. My command over the language seems to have disappeared. I often find myself struggling to make my point while the right words never make it further than the tip of my tongue….probably coz its been more than a while since I picked up a book to read. Besides, I am no more a thinker that I once used to be.

Lack of thoughts – rather, not spending enough time with my thoughts leads to a drop in the number of posts. My diary which used to be randomly filled with my tryst with philosophy and the inner mind, runs dry.

Talking of changes, I have almost given up my daily prayers so too my exercises. It wouldn’t be fair to blame all these changes to my ‘hectic life-after-marriage’. If anything, my life now is easier than before. I have the entire morning to myself, whatever way I choose to waste it. Cooking happens only for one time that too invariably spills over for the next day’s meal.

The only way to explain this then, is to confess on my laziness. Now, is repair time. I plan to get back all the good habits that I once had and at the first place stop cribbing about lack of time. Closing this post on a hopeful note of having more topics to write on more frequently….

Finally

Yippee!! Just 5 days to go and then I will be home. J I am so excited…. Ah! How long I waited for this excitement to set in. Generally a month before my date of vacation, my GTalk status already carries a countdown. This time it never felt like I was going home even though the date was so close…. until yesterday. Probably the lingering thought that my leave would be cancelled considering the status of my project at work.

Yesterday, just like I expected, I was asked if my vacation could be postponed. Only after I argued, complained, fought and convinced, I was granted my will. And no sooner, the excitement was starting to be visible on my face. The whole of last night I haven’t slept a blink. My mind was drawing pictures of the forthcoming week. It was like a auto run slide show of me scurrying from office to make it to the station in time, the wobble wobble of the train journey, the peering out of the window waiting for the train to chug into Mumbai station, daddy’s happy face, visits to various houses, showcasing my favourite city to Hubs, the nice rickshaw guys returning every rupee without another thought, Mummy-cooked food and more.

Well, the fact remains that I am going home and it is natural for me to go sleepless with exhilaration. But, I am oh so worried that if all the following nights continue this way, I am going to sleep-stay in Mumbai, sleep-walking to places, sleep-talking with people and wishing them a Happy Sleep-Diwali.

If there were a tomorrow...

I frequented her house as her daughter and I were classmates. More than classmates, best friends. I needed no occasion to sleep over at her place. Even my sudden visits would be responded by delicious food & lots of chatting. All this, even when she would have just returned from school, tired of listening to the noise little ones make.

I remember the one time when I went. She opened the door saying, “I knew you would not let Gayu alone at this time. I knew you would come to pep her up.” Her eyes were giving away the truth that she was holding her tears. She was a great mother.

As I moved out of the city, my trips to her place dwindled. Sporadic, but yet periodic. This time I stayed over at her place, the house was full of guests. It was her daughter’s wedding after-all. On the Wedding day morning, she pleaded that I cajole he daughter to wear the poo-jadai she had bought. After the wedding, she blessed that I get married soon too… I noticed the moistening of her eyes then.

Shortly, I got married… she was not present, but her wishes came along with her husband, and mails from her daughter. She was bed-ridden. I couldn’t see her, but I know her eyes were wet again. I promised myself I would see her when I go back home for Diwali.

But alas, this time she left my eyes drenched….

Mysore - the Dassera Splendour

I am just back after an eventful and most looked forward to trip to Mysore. Being a 4-day long weekend, Hubs and I took off to Mysore to check out the Navarathri festivities in the city. We amusingly took a Rs.19 ticket to Shrirangapattana and decided to move on to Mysore by bus after sight seeing there. At Shrirangapattana, we first visited the Ranganathaswamy temple. After a quick and easy darshanam, we moved on to other places. Among places we saw were Tipu Sultan’s place of death, tipu’s summer palace – which now house a museum, Gumbaz –which has the burial chamber of Tipu. As the burning sun pierced our bodies, we decided to head straight to Sangama which is the point where a branch of the river Cauvery re-unites with the main course, and take a dip. Unfortunately, Friday being Mahalaya Amavasya, the p[lace was full of people engaged in carrying out rituals for their ancestors. Unhappy but yet hopeful, we went on to Nimishamba temple. Though we didn’t enter the temple, we had a great time playing in the river water flowing behind the temple. After lolling in the cool waters for more than an hour, we very unwillingly carried on our journey towards Mysore.

Mysore that evening was peaceful with nothing much to do except visiting a couple of houses. However we were quite enthusiastic and all set to materialize our talakkadu plan for the next day. Come Saturday morning, my poor BIL had a problem with his bike and by the time it was fixed, it was quite late to start a journey so far. So, with no further delay, plans changed and 4 bikes and 8 humans hit the road towards Balmuri. The super awesome thing about this was Balmuri being much closer, Amma and Appa also agreed to join. We just about drenched ourselves in the water there and then moved further down to Edamuri falls. This place had a nice waterfall, safe and large at once for a family to enjoy their day. Having spent a couple of hours bouncing in the water, getting a natural massage by the force of the falling water, with all the slipping, laughter, cheer and joy, we left for home, tired and famished. We stopped by at a restaurant for a very late lunch.

Back home all of us slept like logs at whatever place we could find and only woke up late to take a small bike ride to nearby places to check out the lighting which made the city look bridal. We went a couple of circles away and the first time as it was for me, the feast for my eyes had me yelling with excitement.

Day 3 at Mysore started off with a puja at home followed by a heavy meal of delicious Bissi Bele Bhath in company of 4 of our cousins and an aunt. Early evening, Hubs and I visited the much talked about flower show and I must say it was worth all the talk. The Mahishasura made of roses was spectacular as were the various flowers. I loved most the vegetable garden as I saw for the first time how all my favourite vegetables looked as they clung on to their guardian looking forward to be picked and tossed into a tawa.

Later we went to Chamundi Hills. Now, I had visited this place before but today our intention was to catch the lighting in the city from atop the hill. Half way up the hill it was pouring cats and dogs. Hubs continued riding even as the rain drops pierced at our skin. Once atop, the hot cuppa tea was relieving. Since there wasn’t much crowd at the temple we were able to have a quick darshan and we were on our way downhill. We had to wait about 15 minutes before we witnessed the breathtaking sight of the city lights coming on. The palace looked divine even as the rest of the city, adorned with lights across each and every road was glimmering.

The last event for the day was to be the Yuva Dassera which everyone told me would be an experience of a lifetime. The crowd was huge when we reached the ground. The singer for the day was Shreya Ghoshal. The show was quite a disappointment for everyone else more than me because Shreya sang melodious numbers one after the other giving no opportunity for the crowd to even tap their feet. As she progressed from one song to another, the gathering was slowly disappearing. We too left for home after the first 5 songs.

Today we were to head back for Bangalore, leaving behind the festivities and coming back to mundane reality. We however managed a quick trip to Bombe Mane which is a handicraft emporium. They had arranged an exhibition of traditional dolls for the 9 days of Navarathri. The only thing I could wish when I was there was that I were a baby who could throw a tantrum and wail until somebody bought me everything that I liked (…which was almost everything on display). There were depictions of the various stories of mythology, a model of the highly regarded Dassera procession at Mysore, and stray idols of all hindu deities in their leisure.

As I boarded the train to Bangalore my mind was already counting days before next weekend when I will be witnessing the Dassera procession for real.

My childhood & I

I am tired of working second shift. Yea, I know you’d say its better than working double… but this doesn’t suit me either. I know until very recently, I loved working 12 hour days. I never even minded taking client calls in the middle of the night. Buy you see times are different now. I reach office at 12:30 and wait for opportunities when I can run away at 8, not even waiting for my shift hours to complete. Then it doesn’t even matter if I have to sneak away without my Manager’s knowledge or I need to leave myself online to make him believe I am yet at office.

While in the cab I restlessly look at the watch time and again wondering why it takes so long to be home. I literally jump off and run all the way up the stairs. When I reach, I am always jubilant as if my day has just begun. I go on and on with narrations of what happened through the day…. Just like I used to when daddy came back home after a tiring day at work, just like I used to every evening on the way home from school as mummy tugged me occasionally to keep me off the middle of the road, just like I used to when my sis returned after her never-ending tuition classes, just like I used to when I met my cousin after a while…

This mindless chatter that I oh so cherish, I thought was childhood… but I guess this is actually what it means to go back to family.