Random Thoughts

Plain old me(me)

2008-06-24T22:50:00.000-07:00

Janani has tagged me for this me-me. She wants me to write about 6 quirks of mine. I don't even know where to start. The fear really is that if I start, will I be able to stop?

I have to think really hard to figure out what is really "quirky" about me. Everything that seems like a quirk to someone else must seem perfectly normal to me. Else, why would I be doing it? Anyway, here goes:

I hate brushing my teeth. I still do it everyday, but I can put it off until the very last minute when I just "have" to. To distract myself, I stand at my window and brush my teeth.
I wear a bindi at all times. Doesn't matter if I am in a saree or jeans. The size of the bindi may vary, but it will always be there.
I can ride a bicycle for any distance without feeling fatigued, but find walking for more than 3 km draining.
If I set my mind on something, I will find a way to do it. It could be jumping off a cliff into the Ganges or just sitting at home and doing nothing at all, all day long. If my heart's set on it, it shall be done.
I am not remotely religious, but I have done the angapradakshanam at Tirupati. (I was just there to help my mother and ended up doing it.) That's how impulsive I can be.
I hate hate hate when my name is misspelt or (worse still) mispronounced. I can be extremely sarcastic when someone calls me Anuriti, Anudati etc and teach them the spelling of my name.

The Meme rules --
Link the person who tagged you.
Mention the rules in your blog.
Describe 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs to inform them of having tagged them.

For this, I tag: Rajitha, Sig, Kalai, Goutham, Divya, A-Kay.

I’ve noticed that…

2008-06-22T22:29:00.000-07:00

The seat next to mine in a bus/plane is almost always empty.
The window seat is always taken by people who have no interest in looking out the window.

Courtesy and chivalry aren’t exactly dead.
A smile and some meaningless banter can really make someone’s day.
At times a smile is all there is between a complete stranger and a new friend.
Despite all the hullaballoo over the new international airports, the Chennai airport rocks.
However independent or grown up I might be, it still takes oodles of courage to say bye to my parents without crying.
I'd give anything to spend a quiet hour with my parents, my head resting on my mother's lap.
People you've never met can become good friends in just a day.
Regardless of how long I've been out, it feels great to be back home.

All things bright and beautiful

2008-06-18T13:57:00.000-07:00

I never thought that a bottle of Evian could be the cause of so much heartburn. I never thought that a dinner party could leave so many people angry.

People seem to be slowly losing their sense of humour or misplacing it at the very least. I see a growing number that fails to see the humour, the real meaning behind the post, or the lighter side of things. Folks come here, read my posts, criticize, call me a cynic, take anything I say in my defence as proof that I cannot take criticism. Folks, who refuse to reveal who they are lest they should be traced, tell me that they fear meeting me because I may "find fault" with them. These people seem to pick on some one thing and beat it to death. They also say my posts say a lot about me. I'd expect they should, wouldn't you?

I am thankful for some friends I've made through this medium. I'm thankful for those who are able to see the lighter side of life because in my opinion (and that is really what this blog is about) that is the only way one can go through life without going insane. I laugh at situations and not at people. I vent out my frustrations and angst. Yes, I write a lot about people. It is the single most interesting subject to me apart from food. If I were to only write about all things bright and beautiful, my memoirs would be terribly lopsided, not to mention false. Yet, I look on the brighter side of things and am thankful for the readers that I have. You never know when a stranger can become a friend.

I hope that the folks out there who think I am judgmental and cynical would rediscover their sense of humour. I don't expect that everyone will find everything that happens in my life funny. But I do hope they allow themselves a good laugh every once in a while. To folks who take offence at just about everything I write, I can only say, "If the cap fits, wear it". In the words of Bugs Bunny, "Don't take life too seriously, no one gets out alive".

Book Talk

2008-06-14T20:19:00.000-07:00

Continuing with the series of writing me-mes and completing tags, here's the second.

A-Kay from Lemon & Chillies tagged me this time. And true to the essence of the tag, I picked up a book (that my English teacher in school highly recommended) that I'd even forgotten I had.

The rules:

Pick up the nearest book.
Open to page 123.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post the next three sentences.
Tag five people, and acknowledge the person who tagged you.

This passage is from Cakes and Ale by W. Somerset Maugham.

"I don't know what we shall do without you," said Mrs. Driffield. "We shall have to play dummy." I was glad that my going would break up the game.

Thanks A-Kay for making me get this book out of its slumber. I will read it when I'm done with my current read.

I'd like to tag Arundati, Nandita, Wooster, Janani and Pritika. I hope this makes you pick up a forgotten book and read it all over again.

Table Talk Me-me

2008-06-13T00:20:00.000-07:00

I have been tagged for countless me-mes over the past few months and I didn’t ever get down to looking at them, let alone do anything about them.

I’m going to start clearing the huge pile by taking one baby step at a time. I was tagged by Nandita of Saffron Trail sometime in May and so here goes:
What’s your favourite table?
The two's table! Or is it 5? No, 10. Oh, you mean that table. I think it must be that study table I have had for ages now.

What would you have for your last supper?
My mother’s pizza with all the toppings.

What’s your poison?

Water. I think I can drown in the amount I drink!

Name your three desert island ingredients.

Lots of water
Maggi Noodles with a stove and vessel
Britannia Bourbon (a girl’s got to have her dessert, you know!)

What would you put in Room 101?
Nothing really. It does have its own occasional visitors, but no permanent residents.

Which book gets you cooking?

Of late, it has been a book called “Favorite Vegetarian Dishes”. But any book with great pictures is enough to get me started.

What’s your dream dinner party line-up?

Friends & family.

What was your childhood teatime treat?
Amma’s Rava Vadai

What was your most memorable meal?
Eating rasam rice and potato curry with Sachin at home the day after he proposed to me. My apartment felt like “home” and we truly felt like a couple, sitting at the dining table and eating home cooked tambram food.

What was your biggest food disaster?

Attempting to make fruit buns from a Dalda Cook Book when I was in class 4 and making chikkis from some random cookbook in class 5.

What’s the worst meal you’ve ever had?
I was to meet a friend at a restaurant for lunch in Hyderabad but she insisted I come to her aunt’s place as the aunt had cooked her favourite dishes. The menu had mor kuzhambu, rasam, beans paruppu usli, potato curry and rice. Each dish was worse than the one that preceded it and what I was able to eat and “enjoy” was the curd rice with Priya pickles and the custard apple that we ended the meal with. (If people can’t cook, they shouldn’t invite others over.)

Who’s your food hero/food villain?

My mom and Tarla Dalal: biggest heroes.

Nigella or Delia?

Haven’t watched/read Delia. Have watched Nigella’s shows and bought her book recently. So, there’s no comparison really. I’ll update this after I’ve watched Delia’s show.

Vegetarians: genius or madness?
Depends on the circumstances.

Fast food or fresh food?
Fresh and fast. That's my mantra.

Who would you most like to cook for?
My family and friends.

What would you cook to impress a date?

Pasta and apple pie.

Make a wish.

May everyone in this world eat well and live well. Life is so short to suffer it through.

Let me tag some girls that went on a virtual marathon with me recently:

1. Srivalli of Cooking 4 all Seasons

2. Bhags of Crazy Curry

3. Ranji of Ranji's Kitchen Corner

4. DK of Culinary Bazaar

5. Lakshmi of The Yum Blog

6. Siri of Siri's Corner

7. Swati of Chat Khor

8. Divya Vikram of Dil Se

9. Arundathi of Arundathi's Food Blog.

Rejuvenation!

2008-06-09T06:01:00.000-07:00

Standing in supermarket queues is something my husband and I find very amusing. Last night, we were waiting in line at the local hypermarket and there were two girls standing right in front of us. From the things in their shopping cart and their general demeanour, I could tell that they were single and probably living together. As the billing commenced, one of the girls told the guy at the counter that she was going to open one of the items and that he should bill it nonetheless. She pulled out a bottle of Evian and opened it. I noticed another bottle of Evian and 4 bottles of Bisleri. I looked at my husband and raised my eyebrows. I mean, it was EVIAN. Then the girl took a sip and looked our way. We noticed that were spectacle frame had the words “Giorgio Armani” written on them. S and I began our “gossip” about single people, disposable income and how some people are so brand conscious that they’d pick Evian when they were thirsty.

Then while they were getting ready to make way for us, the other girl looked at the bill and told the guy there was a mistake. She’d bought water and two bottles of water couldn’t cost her Rs. 180, could they? The guy looked at her and said, “This is Evian, it is Rs. 90 per bottle ma’m.” She said, “Then I want to return it.” And the look on her face was almost as thought she’d drunk liquor by mistake or something. Of course, that meant another wait of 10 minutes as their items were rebilled.

The way the girl reached out for the bottle of Evian and gulped it down made me think that these two knew what Evian was (I mean, why else would you even pick a bottle?) and their reaction on knowing the price were so contrasting that I wish I’d been able to take pictures. In their hurry, they left the opened bottle of Evian on the counter. As we got ready to pay, one of them came running back and picked up her bottle. She must have wanted “rejuevianation”.

Idle Minds - Do they really exist?

2008-06-06T01:57:00.000-07:00

I was at this potluck party recently. I only knew the hosts and none of the other guests. Since the host is someone who’d always been telling me that I always talk about cooking but that the proof of the pudding was really in the eating, I decided to take some baked goodies. Once there, I wondered how at all we fit in. We were the only working couple. In all the other couples, the men ran businesses of some sort and the women stayed home. I have nothing against women who stay home (or even men who stay home) but I wonder what they do with their time. My cousin was a stay at home mom or a housewife as we called them. But she took great pride in keeping a neat and clean house. She also cooked all meals everyday and dished out one delicacy after another. So, I somehow never wondered about what she did with her time. But these women I met stayed home all day and did nothing. They had maids to do the cleaning and cooks to take care of the cooking. I was the only one there who had bothered to make something by myself. The others either asked their cooks to prepare a dish or brought food from outside. During some conversations, I figured they didn’t even read. Their kids were all grown up and didn't seem to make any demands on the parents. These people didn't talk of any hobbies even when I uthe topic up. It got me wondering: what exactly do these people do all day? They were not doing social work of any sort. I stayed at home for 3 weeks without a job and it killed me. But I managed to do a lot. I cooked, I embroidered, I read (and I job hunted). I was newly married and most women I know even take a year off from work.

I digress. The point of this rant is to understand what these people do all day? I am extremely lazy. Left to myself, I’d do nothing at all. Believe me when I say I can vegetate in front of a TV or computer if I want to. But I doubt I can do it all the time. Actually I know I can’t. So I’m very curious to know what people do with plenty of time on their hands. (I’m not being judgmental here, I’m just being curious.) I'd imagine everyone would have to do something. Our minds can't really be idle, can they?

I found the evening amusing to say the very least. A couple of the ladies asked me if I could start baking classes. Some asked me when I planned to quit working. (I have no idea why!) One lady told me it was high time I had a baby! (She didn’t know me 60 minutes prior to making this statement.) Then there were the usual regionalistic statements.
“You’re a south Indian? But you don’t look so.”
“Your husband is a Punjabi for sure.”
“How come your Hindi is accentless?”
“All south Indians I have met are well baked.”
“Arundhati is a Bengali name.” (I can’t tell you how sick of this I am!)

I digressed again. All in all, the evening left me with just one question. When I would do anything to sneak in an extra hour or two in my day, what do these people do all day? Someone please write a book for me. “A day in the life of…”

Loss

2008-05-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you know someone for years and then realize you know nothing about them. At others, you know almost nothing and in one meeting you feel like you’ve known someone for years. How do you feel when someone you’ve met just once touches your life in a way you never thought possible? How do you feel when the lingering memory of that one meeting makes you want to go back and have a second interaction? How do you feel when you realize it is too late now and the second interaction can never happen? A bit cheated perhaps, angry maybe? A mix of both, maybe? I don’t know really.

I can only pray that his soul rest in peace.

Time flies

2008-04-18T02:43:00.001-07:00

I started blogging because there was a lot of peer pressure. A lot of my very close friends had blogs and almost everyone thought I'd do a decent job of penning my thoughts. It has been a fantastic journey so far. I wrote about absolutely random stuff. From movies to politics to heartbreak and finally, love. There are still times when I desperately want to blog about something, but when I sit down to type, I forget all that I wanted to share with the world.

Somewhere along the way, I started a food blog. I didn't think it would even be one tenth as successful as it has become. I only meant for it to be a repository of the many recipes I've discovered or invented over the years. Instead it turned out to be so much more.

I still have random thoughts that strike faster than I can imagine. I resolved to keep this blog going this year and I am pretty sure nothing will change that. And I will continue to sing, cook and share the music in my life with all of you. It feels like it was only yesterday that I began this journey. So much has changed since I set out on this path, yet so much remains as it is.

Happy Birthday OnlineRaga!

Pride and Prejudice

2008-04-12T09:58:00.001-07:00

I find that good English is getting more endangered with each passing day. As a recruiter, I feel the pain that this causes. I can't hire someone whose language skills are bad and that person doesn't get a chance to work with a company like ours. But what I see around me pains me more. There are companies that are willing to compromise on quality while hiring.

I tried to order flowers at Indiatimes.com and their site said that I'd have to place my order before 2 p.m. if I wanted a same day delivery. Although I'd taken care of that, the flowers didn't get delivered on time. (They refunded my money eventually, but that's a different story!) I tried to call their customer service centre to lodge a complaint and went through their IVRS. The usual rubbish: For English, please press 1. हिन्दी के लिए कृपया २ दबाएँ! I pressed 1 and got to this joker at the other end. Our conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi, I'd like to cancel order no. xxxx. It was supposed to be delivered this evening, but it didn't happen.

He: Sorry ma'm. Your order no. xxxx is placed and will be delivered in 48 hours.

Me: But I wanted same day delivery.

He: The site is no provide guarantee.

Me: It said on the site that if I placed my order before 2 p.m. the delivery would be the same day.

He: We do not gives guarantee. Shipping in 48 hours. I can't able to cancel.

Me (exasperated): I need to speak with someone who can understand English please. Could you please transfer me to someone who knows English?

He (obviously miffed): I speak English Ma'm.

Me (having completely lost it): No, you think you do, but you really don't. I have no time to waste and would like to speak to someone in English.

He: It is not so great language. I speak.

Me: देखिये आप सोचते हैं की आप अंग्रेज़ी जानते हैं। क्या मैं आपके मेनेजर से बात कर सकती हूँ?

He: आपको हिन्दी आती है, हमसे बात कीजिये।

I was so irritated at the end of this. If I'd wanted to have a conversation in Hindi, I'd have dialled 2 to start with. But I doubt if they really care. I sometimes feel I may be the only one who's even bothered about any of this.

On a separate note, there's another advertisement on TV for Virgin mobile where a "Mahalingam" calls in response to an ad in the paper. When will it end?

Stereotypes are here to stay

2008-02-29T00:05:00.000-08:00

Stereotypes are here to stay. Or so it seems to me from the ads on radio and TV. These two ads stand out. I am sure there are more.

Stereotype #1:

Ad on TV shows a man coming into the office and trying many things to get his PC on. The man is obviously a “South Indian” shown with vibhuti on his forehead. No details spared. Then a “smart” lady appears, who is noticeably not “South Indian”, and she indicates to the man that the computer is not plugged in.

Product: Some tax saving product from Birla Sun Life.

Stereotype #2:
Ad on radio that talks about how a Mr. So-and-so sent his son abroad for studies and got his daughter married with a lot of pomp and show and yet, and even though he is retired, he relies on no one financially.

Product: IDBI Suvidha fixed deposit.

In 2008, we still resort to portraying the south Indian as dumb. In 2008, we still talk of educating our sons and marrying off our daughters. What can I possibly say?

Star Light Star Bright

2008-01-18T02:37:00.000-08:00

Clearly, Indian movies are moving in the right direction: Forward. Taare Zameen Par stands testimony to this fact.

Movies that are takes on Bollywood, that are larger than life, that don't make sense: we've seen them all this year. The best was, indeed, saved for the very last.This was the very first time in all my life that I watched a movie on the very first day of its release. It is probably a regular affair for most people, but I have never been able to do this before. I went in with very high expectations knowing that Aamir Khan wouldn't let me down.

The movie is about how parents and teachers deal with dyslexia. Taare Zameen Par's appeal lies in the "real"ness of it all. There is nothing in the movie that I couldn't relate to. Funny in parts, serious at others, but touching for the entire duration. This is not a funny, feel good movie, but one that makes you think.

Being the daughter of not one, but two, teachers, I have always considered myself very close to the education system in India. My mother taught children who were starting the process (kindergarten) and my father taught those who were completing it (undergrad, grad, doctoral and post doc students). Through my mother, I have known enough and more children who confuse their "b"s and their "d"s, their "p"s and their "q"s. I have seen the parents of these children deal with what was until then unknown to them: dyslexia. I've seen teachers who didn't understand what this was all about and recommending admitting the child to an institute for mentally retarded children. And I've seen parents grapple with the mere thought. All this at a time when information was not widely available as it is today.

Maybe I had some background and so thought this film was great. But then again, maybe not. I think anyone who watches this film can relate to it. In its entirety or in parts. I could dissect this film and talk about the glitches and how it could have been made better. But I think the whole is always greater than the sum of the parts. I cried during many scenes and I also noticed many people wiping away tears.

I have had my share of bad experiences at school despite being, for most part, a topper. And I've seen some students get lousy treatment. And many of the children in my school were first generation literates. I can only imagine how traumatic it could have been for them. This film took me back to those days. To a time when my parents threatened to put me in a boarding school if I didn't behave. (God alone knows how much I misbehaved hoping they'd keep their word.) To a time when I wandered the streets after school to reach home two hours after I should have. To a time when my brother and I thought it was a great idea to catch worms in a bottle and name them "Krishna". To a time that should have been the most carefree, yet, in retrospect, seems like the most stressful.

Everyone in the movie has acted so well that it is difficult to move away from the realness of it all. I wonder if there'll be another one that will strike a chord somewhere anytime soon. Great going Aamir. May your tribe increase.

First and Last

2008-01-14T00:37:00.000-08:00

I have never been an avid movie watcher. And Indian movies have never made it big on my already tiny "Must Watch" list. I am picky about the movies I watch. And among Indian films, I'd probably watch selected Tamil and Hindi films. At one point, I was watching some Malayalam films as well, but I don't think DD has that "regional movie with subtitles every Sunday" now.

Last Saturday, I had precious little to do apart from bunches of greens that had to be cleaned and put away. Channel surfing brought me to a song and dance sequence that seemed terrible. I was commenting to my husband that the sequence seemed right out of some third rate Telugu movie. We were debating the A.P. connection and ended up watching the entire movie. We made fun of the predictability of the scenes, expressed irritation at the lewd dialogues and "cheap" humour, but we watched the movie to the end. (That's four bunches of fenugreek and spinach in all!) This movie was, as it turned out, Loafer.

We stepped out for lunch and some shopping and then returned home. I told S that I wanted to watch another "pheku" or "time pass" movie. We started surfing and came to a channel where the screen flashed, "A film by David Dhawan". S said, "This is probably as "pheku" as it gets." This movie turned out to be "Raja Babu". We didn't watch it till the end. It would have been impossible for any self respecting human being to watch that movie without squirming. The script was full of innuendos. The plot was so sick. This was the very first Govinda movie that I watched. I couldn't believe what I was watching. The dances were so horrible that I felt they might as well have shown porn.

What were they thinking? Insulting the sensibilities of the public. Such movies give ideas to people if they didn't have them before. And reinforced stuff like "working in the kitchen is a woman's job" etc. This really makes me a little judgmental. Of people who watch David Dhawan's movies. And of Govinda's fans. I agree that I chose to watch these movies. They were not forced upon me. But I was truly appalled at the quality of the films. People call me a snob because I am picky about the films I watch. If these are examples of "movie for the masses", I think I'm better off this way.

I just saw the list of movies that he has directed so far and found that I'd not watched any of his films... except for... wait... want to guess?... Loafer!!!! That made it two David Dhawan movies in one day. I swore on Saturday never to watch a David Dhawan film again in my life. Nothing will ever change that.

Small is Beautiful

2008-01-10T21:03:00.000-08:00

I am extremely excited about the Tata Nano. I am unable to contain my excitement. My mother promised to gift me one whenever it is released. But that's not the only reason I am excited.

I have always been worried about the scooter or the motorcycle being the complete family vehicle. This car will change that. OK, the basic model doesn't have an AC... but no motorcycle or scooter that I have seen has one. In the last 24 hours, I have met so many people who feel this car shouldn't be on the roads. That this is the biggest mistake the Tatas are making. That our roads will be congested. That too many people will be able to afford it. Somehow I think the fact that everybody can afford something that would make their lives a little easier and a little safer is a good thing. Not something we should complain about. But maybe people in India think of cars as a luxury. Why, even I did, for a long time. But maybe the people's car will mean that it will cease to be a status symbol. Maybe that's why people are worried.

If you ask me, it is the huge Mercs and BMWs that congest our roads. Not the likes of the Nano. There's no hue and cry about the number of luxury limos that come into the country. Our roads seem to be OK with them. But when there is a small beauty that everyone can afford, it becomes something we are not OK with. I am more convinced that we are either a nation of hypocrites or one of confused souls.

At the end of the day, I feel that most of the criticism for the Nano is because it is a Tata car. When we bought our vehicle last year, there were so many people, including some of our "closest" friends, who asked us if we were planning to start a taxi service. Just because we own an Indica. I have never felt my pride dip even once. I'd much rather drive a Tata Car than any other. I was all set on the Marina as our next car, but now I think I'd love the Nano more.

We plan to go and check the baby out at the Auto Expo. I was least excited until the news of Nano's release came out. Babies take 9 months and mothers and grandmothers do get excited. So, it is normal for my mother and I to feel this way. We shall await our little one.

It is a huge step forward for the car industry, for the Tatas, and for India. It is a bonus that it is as cute as it is. Maybe we can have Nano autos. And maybe more people will make fun of me then for driving around town in it. But I will never be ashamed to be seen in a Tata car a.k.a. a People's car. I hope this car meets with success. I hope for a safer and accident free India. I can only wish Ratan Tata well. What I (and millions like me) dreamt of, he has achieved. I hope that it will replace the two wheeler as India's family vehicle.

Promoting Promiscuity?

2008-01-07T02:08:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I noticed an ad on TV. This was after days of having my mother ask me if I'd seen it. It was for an OTC drug called i-pill. The drug helps terminate an unwanted pregnancy.

Since then, I have noticed at least 2 other drugs being advertised. And I am shocked to say the very least. As with cigarette packets, the advertisement for the pill carries a statutory warning:

Important safety aspects: i-pill is neither a regular contraceptive nor an abortion pill. It is not a substitute for condoms and does not protect against sexually transmitted diseases including HIV/AIDS.

How does this help? While on the one hand, we claim to be promoting sex education and are attempting to create greater awareness, on the other hand, we sell pregnancy termination drugs across the counter without a prescription. Are these the elements that a progressive society is made up of? While we have guys who are shy to pick up a pack of condoms, we expect our girls to pick up a drug such as this without as much as a prescription. No checks and balances in this system. Nothing that says "practice safe sex". Instead we have a product that says, 'Go ahead, have fun. If the girl happens to suffer later, that's fine." We seem to be treating the symptom than the disease.

While the advertisers are targeting married couples who may want to avoid an unplanned pregnancy, I think the real and bigger market is elsewhere. It is in our schools and colleges, our hostels and universities. Most married couples I have met have their own ways of preventing unwanted pregnancies. None of them involves swallowing a pill such as this. Of course I understand that my sample for this exercise has its limitations. Somehow I feel that this pill will give more power to molestors. It will give kids a different degree of independence that they, in my humble opinion, are not mature enough to handle. I feel that all this is nothing but promoting promiscuity.

Another New Year

2008-01-03T22:31:00.000-08:00

Another new year has sprung itself upon us. I have resolved to keep this blog active and I fully intend to not let this become one of "those" new year resolutions that are broken in the first week. As long as I have things to write about, I think I will.

Most of my resolutions for 2008 are joint ones. The only independent resolutions are about this blog and my other blog: The Singing Chef. The rest pertain to food, fitness and finances.

What are your plans/resolutions for 2008? I'd love to hear from you.

Happy New Year!

Simplicity is a virtue

2007-12-26T03:23:00.000-08:00

We are about to enter 2008. The eight year of the 21st century. Of what use is it to talk about the advancements we have made when we still have advertisements that talk about saving for your son's education and your daughter's wedding. Fortunately, we are beginning to see advertisements that talk about saving for your daughter's education as well. A step in the right direction.

But let's get back to the weddings. It is an unwritten rule that dictates that the girl's family will spend on the wedding. I don't know who started this trend. I'd like to give him or her a piece of my mind. (I can write pages about dowry, but it is a topic that has been beaten to death and then some more.) These days, when someone doesn't want to "ask" for dowry, they ask for a "grand wedding". Of course, the girl's family is expected to bear every expense. And then on the other hand we talk about why female foeticide or infanticide is high in India.

I have been reading about the Big Fat Indian Wedding. Any magazine I pick up has some article or the other about how this industry is growing and how wedding planners have taken weddings to the next level. Excuse me? Industry? As far as I know and remember, a wedding ceremony is meant to celebrate the union of two individuals. When did it become a money spinner? Why did it become a money spinner? And why are parents' of the girl expected to fuel this "industry"?

I've been to 7 weddings in the last month and am shocked to see kind of money that has gone into each of them. I am not going to suggest that one use this money for charity or something like that, but could this not be put away as a nest egg for the couple? From being a celebration with family and friends, the wedding today has become an avenue for vulgar display of wealth. Conversations are not as much around how nice a person the groom or bride is as they are about how much was spent on their trousseaux.

I am appalled at the state of affairs. Shocked that this goes on. Sorry that while some of us take a step forward, many continue to take many steps backwards. Simplicity is a virtue. It may not be long before we say it was one.

Freedom

2007-12-18T03:31:00.000-08:00

Every time I am inside an aeroplane and it is about to land, there is an announcement that asks people to remain seated until the seat belt sign is switched off. Yet, people start moving when the plane is still taxiing. The announcement also asks people to keep their mobile phones switched off until they leave the aircraft. Yet, people start talking on their phones even before the seat belt sign is turned off. Why?

I fail to understand why we are unable to follow commands. Is it that we don't like to be ruled? That we don't like to be told what to do?

On the streets of Delhi, when the signal turns red, unless a policeman actually stands in front of the traffic, it continues to move ahead. At times I feel we truly behave like we don't deserve the freedom we are blessed with. At others, I feel we may be well on our way to having someone else take advantage of the entire situation and come rule over us again.

There is such a thing as a free lunch

2007-12-06T23:12:00.000-08:00

One of the many standard interview questions that's almost always asked is, "How would you deal with a free loader?". I have never asked that question nor have I been asked that. But, every so often, life presents me with a situation that forces me to think about this.

I love cooking. My foodblog stands testimony to this. But I didn't undertake to do it all the time and for just about anybody. When I first moved here, we had guests very often. There were a couple of bachelor friends of my husband's and a couple of my friends from my childhood. Every once in a while, we also had some colleagues come over. We enjoyed entertaining and continue to do so.

But there was this one friend of S's and he would land up almost every Saturday. Worse still, he'd end up staying until the wee hours of the morning. He'd pick any time to land up at our place. I began to resent it. It became the norm. If we were in town during the weekend, he'd arrive. He'd gladly empty our booze stock. I'd be dying to spend some time with S after a hectic week or even just wrap up things and sleep, but he'd be there. He'd even specify the stuff he'd want to eat and I obliged quite often. I must admit, I never once got a compliment. Did it irk me? I'd be lying if I said it didn't. At some point, I lost interest. I offered him leftovers. If we could eat the stuff, so could he.

What irked me more was the fact that none of this was ever reciprocated. We didn't get invited for lunch or dinner. One day, I told him to take us out as I didn't want to cook. And he did. But a couple of weeks later, he told us we owed him for that dinner.

Excuse me, please! Owe? What about the countless dinners, lunches and breakfasts? What about my time and effort that went into making them? What about my stock of booze that was depleted? Just because things are inside a house, are they free? Since then, I have not been able to bring myself to entertain him at home or outside. Why should I? He's not a child. In fact, now that he's married, I'd like to intrude on his personal time on Saturdays with his new bride. But then, that would equate the two of us and I can't allow that.

All those meals for him were free. So, there is such a thing as a free lunch. Literally. Maybe someone will become a free loader and he'll have to bear the brunt. Maybe I was a free loader at some point. But I am sure I wasn't. Am I wrong to keep score of such stuff?

This article tells me that I'm not alone. http://www.rd.com/content/my-planet--repaying-the-dinner-party-debt-/. We subscribe to the Reader's Digest and I read this article. It struck a chord, rang a bell and did many other such things. Everybody keeps score and what goes around will come around. No one's getting away without clearing dinner debts.

On the road from Madras to South India

2007-10-30T04:54:00.000-07:00

“Are you a Madrasi?”

That’s a question I heard more often than I’d have liked to. Now I don’t take offense to a classification like that. I am a Madrasi. Because I belong to Madras. But if you were to go by the generally accepted meaning of Madrasi, then you’d be talking about at least 4 states in India that are comfortably nestled south of the Vindhyas, not to mention parts of Maharashtra and Goa. What I find most amusing is that a Bambaiya, who may be a Madrasi for a Dilliwala, would call a Madrasi a Madrasi. My own maternal family would make a solid case in point. Originally from the Konkan belt that extends from Goa to South Canara, they have settled in Bombay and consider themselves to be West Indians and not South Indians. As though the people in the south are somewhat inferior to the folks in the rest of the country and they can’t associate themselves with that lot.

I’ve wasted my life until now explaining to people that every south Indian is not a Madrasi. This conversation with my colleague at GE stands out:

P: Where are you originally from?

Me: Don’t know. I have mixed parentage. But I’d call Madras my home.

P: Even I have mixed parentage.

Me: Oh, that’s nice. Where are your parents from?

P: My mom’s from Amritsar and my dad is from Bhatinda.

Me: Oh, but they’re both from Punjab.

P: Yeah, but culturally, the two places are very different. Your parents?

Me: My mother is a Mangalorean Konkani and my father is a Tamilian.

P: Arrey, to yeh mixed parentage kaise ban gaya? Dono Madrasi hi to thehre na! (How is this mixed parentage then? Both of them are Madrasis!)

Well, now after a lot of gyan sessions, I am back in the capital city. The last one year has been amazing. I've noticed that people use the term Madrasi a lot less and use "South Indian" a lot more. Some progress. But I've had some folks ask me, "Do you speak South Indian?" People!! Last heard South India was a large region. It comprised at least the 4 states of Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Kerala and Tamilnadu. There is no one language that is common to these states. Just as Oriya, Bengali, and Assamese are not one and the same, the languages spoken in the different regions of this state are not one and the same. I have a South Indian father and a South Indian mother. I also have a South Indian husband. Yet, each of them has a different mother tongue. I speak all 3. Now, which of these were you asking about?

Ditto for other things like food, weddings, mangalsutras and the like. "Oh, you had a South Indian wedding?" Now, will someone please explain to me what a "South Indian" wedding is? People look at any one of the many mangalsutras I have (thanks to mixed parentage and my having married someone from a different background) and say, "So, this is what a South Indian mangalsutra looks like." And to me, not one of them even remotely resembles the other. So what generalizations they draw, only they can tell.

The same goes for food. "Can you teach me how to cook South Indian food?" Dudes, there is no such thing as South Indian food. Just as they do in the rest of India, food and cuisine change every 50 km across the southern states too.

But how do I explain any of this to anyone? I am surprised I even try. Although people have undertaken the arduous journey from Madras to South India, after all these years, I find they haven't budged an inch. They remain exactly where they were when they began this journey. Blissfully unaware of anything. I feel sorry for them at times, I feel sorry for myself at others. But as always, this will be one more of those things that will remain beyond my comprehension.

Sky is the limit

2007-10-29T01:37:00.000-07:00

I love the colours of the sky. I can gaze endlessly at a pretty sky and I think this autumn was simply beautiful. Most of these pictures were taken from our bedroom window. I am rarely home at sunset, but when I am, I am in awe. Of nature, of creation.

The monsoon sky in Gurgaon.

The summer sky in the Garhwal Himalayas.

The monsoon sky in Manali.

Sunset at the Taj.

Sunset at home.

The twilight zone.

The waves belong in the sky as well.

Riding a New High

2007-10-12T04:18:00.000-07:00

A dear friend, J, was visiting Delhi and I went with a colleague, D, to meet her. Then J and I decided to drop D at the Metro Station. The station that we entered at Connaught Place was so beautiful. I forgot for a moment that we were in India. I was, in a flash, transported to Singapore and Paris. On an impulse, we decided to take a ride in the Delhi Metro. It was a ride that I will never forget.

The Delhi Metro has it all. Huge, sparkling clean stations, courteous staff, beautiful trains, clean compartments and something I only thought possible abroad: disciplined Indians.

more I thought about it, the more I compared it with the Singapore Metro. The Paris Metro, at least 7 years ago, reminded me of Bombay locals. The stations there being quite filthy. Filth is something I didn't find on my ride yesterday.

It was fun listening to the announcements, watching the people, and watching the city zoom past with all its glitter. (Yes, Rajouri Garden at night is a lovely sight!) All in all, it left me in awe of the system. We can be disciplined if we want to. We can have global standards and maintain them if we want to. We can be whatever we choose to be. We can choose to be the best that we can be, but the sad part is we don't take that choice seriously most of the time.

This is the India of the future.

On being single

2007-09-09T23:13:00.000-07:00

I have been married for 51 weeks now. It is a great feeling, no doubt. We've had our share of ups and downs and have been through a lot together. I did reflect sometime ago about why I got married. The more I think of it, the more I realize that it was a matter of choice. Not a matter of need. I didn't HAVE to, I CHOSE to. And I'm enjoying every minute of it.

I'd blogged earlier about The Single Life. About how people looked at me, how they judged me. How they made it their business to poke their noses into my affairs (no pun intended!). I was a threat, a liability, a burden. Things have not changed much in India. All the education on being discreet and civil, on drawing lines, on personal space, either isn't there, or is just a waste.

When I decided to get married, I was almost 30. I broke the news to friends and family only to hear, "Oh, your parents must be so relieved!" Why relieved? Why not happy? What a dumb choice of words! If you can't use the right words in a foreign language, don't use it at all. I was never a burden to my parents. They were not relieved to note that I'd finally found my match. They were thrilled to bits.

Through all the years that I was an eligible single woman (eligible does not necessarily mean available), I had a few arguments with my parents about marriage, but they never put any pressure on me. I did have loads of random strangers and distant relatives telling me I was a fool. OK. I could live with that. But it always amused me. That they were so "genuinely" concerned about my well being. As though I was living off of them!

One of the movies that touched a chord somewhere, and very deeply at that, was Hum Tum. It is based on When Harry Met Sally, but it is a very different movie. I loved it for several reasons and can watch it any number of times. In the movie, there is a scene where Rani Mukherjee realizes that Saif Ali Khan has been trying to fix her up with Jimmy Shergill. And she asks him why a girl can't be left alone. Why the world is restless when they see single women and cannot rest until a girl is married. I could relate to that.

Last heard, single women were humans too. They had lives, they enjoyed their lives and were happy to be just that: single. Single didn't always mean ready to mingle or available or itching to be double or any of those gazillion things that people seem to take for granted. A single woman's life is her own. Her own to make her decisions, her own to live. Her life is not some open book that the random public can read. She is not an object of ridicule.

If only people were sensitive to the feelings of others, I'd not have such a topic to blog about. I wish I could pick from among the 10000 other random thoughts that cross my head, but the world is changing at such a slow pace with regard to the way the world perceives what I was until a year ago: a single woman!

To Sir, With Love

2007-09-05T02:46:00.000-07:00

I was raised by two teachers. My father was a professor of metallurgical engineering and my mother taught every subject to every class before settling down as a kindergarten teacher. A job she loved.

I taught part time at a Montessori school during the 3 years of my undergraduate program.

I can claim to know a lot about teaching and about why people get into it. But I know that a lifetime of teaching wouldn't make me an expert on that.

My life has been shaped by a lot of people. I would give the maximum credit to my parents for making me the person that I am today. Some friends, bosses, and co-workers have had a role to play as well. But there is one man who has been more to me than a teacher. And he has played a vital role in transforming an eager student into a career professional.

I wanted to blog on July 1st. About this great man. It was ten years since I first met him. I still remember the 1st of July 1997. I walked into the orientation program for my master's degree with my parents. His words, his expertise, his demeanour: everything touched me in a way that I didn't even realize at the point. We were burgled just a couple of days before this and my mind was elsewhere.

Prof S V Narayanan, Dean, School of Management, Pondicherry University: The man that people loved and people hated, but the man who none could ever ignore. He was loved by his students for his radical thinking, and was hated by others for the very same reason.

The world lost a great human being last year. To me the loss is something I haven't come to terms with. I had not until then met another like him and I doubt I ever will.

Prof: As if the fact that you are remembered everyday is not enough, they had to have a Teacher's Day. Not one day goes by without my thinking of you. I will forever be grateful for the 9 years that you were an integral part of my life. Even today I catch myself thinking how you may have solved a certain problem of mine. What your answer might have been to a question I am faced with. What my dear Prof would have done, had he been in my shoes. When I heard the news, I thought "The light has gone out of our lives". Now I know that wherever you may be, you will remain my guiding light. You always introduced me to your colleagues as your best student. I do hope that I will be able to live up to that reputation. I am glad to have had the chance to be your student. Because of you, I will always strive to be the best that I can ever be.

Happy Teacher's Day dearest Prof. May your tribe increase. The world sure needs more souls like you.

Many Happy Returns

2007-08-31T22:59:00.000-07:00

Today is a special day. The first of September always has been and forever will be special. I once read somewhere:

There is nothing that we place above

The happiness of the ones we love.

Once upon a time (1959), there lived a young man. He decided to go to the U.S. from Bombay and pursue his dream of picking up a master's degree from an Ivy League institution: The University of Pennsylvania. Just about the same time, another young man from Madras had decided to do the same after spending two years in Bangalore. They ended up as neighbours in the U.S.

The young man from Bombay went to the U.S. and started missing home food. All the Indians (the handful of them that was there) would spend time together and were like family. But this young man still missed home. Still missed home food. And being the first son after 7 daughters and just before the 8th meant that he didn't get a chance to learn any cooking. So, he decided to invite one of his sisters to the U.S. But it is not like the family was rolling in money. The young man lost his father soon after his two younger siblings came into the world. So his mother had single handedly raised all ten children and educated them. That meant that whoever came to the U.S. had to be employed there. Our friend was not going to be able to support anyone else. Among his 8 sisters, it was the youngest who was able to come to the US and work in the same University.

This little girl was all of 20. She was still waiting her turn to enter the kitchen when all of a sudden she had to pack her bags and fly. The last month that she spent at home was a pampered one. She reached the U.S. and her brother took her out for a pizza. The next morning they had toast for breakfast and the brother went off to the University telling her that he'd be back at 12.

Legend has it that he returned at 12 to find the house empty. No one was around. Then he heard some noise in the bedroom. He went in to find his little sister crying. She never had a chance to enter the kitchen and she has no clue how to cook anything. The young man was shocked. After all, he made her move to the U.S. possible so that she could cook for him. And she didn't know how to cook.

But she learnt. Through letters from her mother. Through friends. Through a lot of trial and error. And with time she became the best cook there ever was. And since all the Indians always hung out together all the time, the other young man from Madras also got to sample her cooking. They became friends.

About 4 years later, they got married. And this day comes 44 years after that event.

My last post was about my acquired family, this one is about the one I was born into. This couple is the one I have as parents. The ones I wouldn't trade for anyone else. There is truly nothing that I would place above the happiness of the ones I love.

Amma and Appa: Wishing you the very best of everything.

P.S. The date system is messed up in my blog software and the date shows as the 31st instead of the 1st.