All Agog!

There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise someone you immensely like by giving them a surprise when they least expect it.

And that exactly is the purpose of this post.

So who is that I am trying to stun?  That you will figure out as you read on.

Gils is my blog friend from my virtual world. 

And No.  He is not the one I am trying to  astonish. 

But I have to introduce him in this post to you all to set the context.  He is a perseverant blogger with 1034 posts ( as of now) to his credit.  He is a voracious reader and writes about a whole bunch of stuff, like book and movie reviews, poems, short stories, plays (yes, that included), about IT his bread winning field and puts up a lot of his perspectives about life in general.   What I love about his posts are the pun and clean humor.

There is a new addition to the topics and that happens to be his junior and its amazing to see the world through Gils’ juniors’ eyes. 

Recently I was reading one of his posts about Junior being adamant about a green toy train and he was not convinced about any other coloured train.  After many attempts in many elite places, they finally found one in a pavement shop and he settled only when he got what he had in mind.

I still haven’t reached the person whom I am trying to surprise.   Context setting is still on. No wonder one of my dear ones told me, I am not known for coherence.  He really said that to me, amidst a fight. Now I know, why!

There was a comment on that post that said, If it were me, I would have asked for Ferrari 488 Spider. 

While at Ferrari World, Abu Dhabi, during our recent trip, I dragged J into their retail space which had an impressive collection of branded products and memorabilia and pestered the store guys to show me the scale model of Ferrari 488 Spider and here is the picture of my Magnum Opus surprise for you RAMESH! :-)

Post script :

1.  Ramesh, I didn't buy that for you because, they didn't have a red colored one.

2.  Gils, I couldn't find that post on your blog anymore, though I searched for it in your blog.

Arrival delayed exactly by an year

I landed up on this post while I was rummaging through my drafts and realized it is good to be posted, except that is exactly an year late.

Better late than never, don't they say?

Publishing this post, without any edits!

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I will start this new year with an interesting post.   Ahem. 

I know this is not new year, we are almost done with the month of January and I have stopped writing interesting posts.   Self check – so did you ever write an interesting post ? okay lets swipe these questions under the carpet.  Of late, the best I am getting at is swiping stuff under the carpet.

Yep.

Okay now back to my blog post topic.

I just completed 23 years in marriage last Marty’s day.  Don’t ask me the connection, but my parents were those humorous people who hid an uncanny riddle to all those who attended our wedding on 30^th January 1995.   None got it though, then.  Who will be the martyr among-st us was the riddle.  Dawned on the bride and groom later and they are still deciding who it is.

So this anniversary I was in Kochi, where the hubby now works and spent a beautiful weekend with my paternal cousins celebrating a church feast which is an absolutely fantabulous event in the parts where my cousins live. Kalparamba in Thrissur to be specific. The entire family jing bang around, hubby dear was the chief guest of the day. The son-in laws always get special treatment. With atleast 50 of them from my dads family, food, drinks and fireworks ( the real ones at church) there was a frenzy  at my dad’s paternal home to which our own anniversary added a dash of spirits.

Dennu had come halfheartedly and was loitering around  without actually being recognized by some of the family members.   His hair and beard covered his face and he had grown beyond recognition to most of my ageing uncles, aunts and cousins.  Most people kept their doubts to themselves and kept smiling at him wondering who he was.

One of the aunts though, couldn’t hold her curiosity at the way he was talking to me, and blurted out – silencing even the sounds of fireworks going on in the church. 

Are you her brother or her husband? ( surely her eyesight was on the decline and it was late into the night.  So, blame it on the lack of illumination)

You should have seen Dennu’s face.  The cheeks that were visible, just a bit of them through those untamed beard,  went crimson red. For no reason he looked at me, opened his mouth in awe, and then collected himself and said, No I am her son.   2 minutes silence – that was for the martyrs day.  I could see Dennu was not amused.

Couple of more instances where we had to go silent, this time, they checked if he was my brother.    After that, anyone coming close to Dennu got an explanation of how he is related to J and me even before they asked.  Every one bemused how the naughty child has grown up to a nice young man and showered him with all their love.

After the feast Dennu left for Chennai, as he is preparing for his GRE exams and wanted J and me to have a day for ourselves on our anniversary.

I come back home this morning on 31^st January, after a fun day of loafing and movie and lots of talking to J and Dennu opens the door.

My turn to get startled!

A clean shaven face.   Elated, shocked at his transformation, I ask Dennu Why Baby, why?  I had told you an umpteen number of times to look civilized and how come you have done this now?

Dennu gives me an intense look and a meaningful smile and says,  Maa, the brother bit was okay, but I couldn’t take the husband part.

ROFLing

I know it’s a bit too late to wish you guys a happy new year.

Pradeep

How do I  introduce  Pradeep to all  of you? I  really  got to think, so  that I can do  that without getting emotional.

Pradeep is a tall, sinewy gentleman brimming with positive spirit, so full of chivalry and etiquette.  If you have served the Indian Army, you would learn it automatically, I guess.  Ah, and he always wears a cap.

I got to meet him sometime around 2015 in our walking track that I frequent and the friendly person he is, waved a big hi loudly, with a broad smile.  I liked him instantly.

I don’t remember how we got speaking, but many of the days this man’s “Hi Ms. Vincy“ got me going an entire day, presumably.  I always wish him back saying "Hi Pradeep" ( the only name I remember from the people on the track other than Susan, my friend)  with a smile from my soul, which I reserve for only special people.

Our walk timings were different and Pradeep always jogs and so, on most days we crossed each other, but on few days, I would hear the cheerful greeting coming in from behind and passing me – perhaps Pradeep was late those days. I have seen Pradeep cycling upto the track and he carries a little backpack.

I remember this very clearly – A Monday in November 2016, I had a particularly bad weekend, 7^th of November, I reached the walking track, gloomy and dejected wondering how I was going manage my own company.  I heard a voice asking me, can I walk with you today, Ms. Vincy?  I found that invite god sent. Pradeep, it was, and the only time we walked together.

He told me lot of stuff that day, we shared details about our families, he spoke about spirituality, our faith and how the spirit had led him all through his life and yes about stuff like Machine Learning that he is interested in.  And in the passing he also told me he was a grade IV cancer survivor having gone through multiple surgeries and is on extreme medication.  But he said that so positively, that I didn’t dare ask him anything more about his ailment – he didn’t look like he was ailing.   I thanked Pradeep profusely  for lifting my spirits up on that particularly bad morning.

Pradeep became an instant motivator for me.  When my spirits were down, all I had to do was to think of Pradeep and my positivity jumped several notches up. 

One of the days, out of the blue, he checked if he can mentor my son.  I couldn’t believe he was offering a help without being asked.  Pradeep was head of Training at Blue Dart Aviation, after his stint in army, and told me he was already mentoring some youngsters.  Unbelievably Pradeep called Dennu the very day I sent the contact, not only did he mentor him, he got him an amazing internship Project, at Blue dart Aviation attached to the Chennai airport and Dennu found it so interesting that he was totally excited.  He was part of the complete check of Blue Dart Boeing 757 as part of his internship.  An enormous favour I was not probably entitled to, really. 

J wanted to meet Pradeep  and one day during January this year, we finally met up - J and I, Pradeep and Anita ( Pradeep’s wife), and made plans to meet up for dinner sometime when J comes down from Cochin.

Pradeep’s trips to the walking track was getting less frequent and I stayed in touch with him once in a while through messages, but realised the ailment was playing havoc with his life.  He preferred landlines and specific timings and I was more worried about being a bother whenever I wanted to call him.

In the month of May, on one of my regular walk back, a fellow walker, who has hardly spoken to me, stopped me and said, Your friend from the airport, he passed away.  I couldn’t comprehend who he was speaking about, and kept looking at him.  He said Madam, he is the only one who you speak to in the walking track, and then it suddenly struck me.  PRADEEP.  God.

Anita, Pradeep’s wife, called Dennu a couple of days later and told him about his demise and how both of them used to pray for the youngsters that Pradeep used to mentor. That was so touching.  I spoke to Anita too, and she was so full of composure and told me they were expecting this and were prepared. Apparently during his last few days, he was on palliative care at Military hospital, Chennai. He was taken to Bangalore the same day he passed away and his Funeral was there.

Does God take away the real good ones early?

Every now and then in the walking track, when I see a tall guy around the corner, I wonder if it is Pradeep. Then I realise he is no more.

As I am writing this, I am wondering if this has something to do with me changing my walking track to St. Thomas Mount.

Post Script :

Miss you deeply Pradeep.  You Rest in Peace.

Nyepi

This is a guest post from one of the girls babes who was part of the effervescent gang that is determined to enjoy life to its fullest.  

When I suggested if the girls babes can come up with a guest post, lively as she is, Sudha jumped at it and even before I batted my eyelid, was done with a beautiful post. 

Here we go with the first guest post, ever, on my blog (yaaaayyyy).

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While researching about what we will do in Bali, I got to know that one of the days of the trip is going to be a ‘silent-day’. Silence is such an oxymoron when 4 of us are together, we never had a dull moment :-). Then I read further and found out that there are no activities on that day. People fast and are confined to their homes, even the airport is closed!!  That did not deter our spirits. Also, found out many people plan to go to Bali to immerse themselves in this cultural and religious festival. 

Some of the high end resorts also have Nyepi day activities like Spa, special breakfast, access to pool etc. So that brought me back to one of the agendas of the trip – self pampering :-) it would be a welcome chance to disconnect and witness a centuries-old tradition on an island where religion and ceremony play a pivotal role in daily life. Though Indonesia is predominately a Muslim country, Balinese people follow Hinduism.  Already day dreaming about the temples, architecture, beaches, Nyepi added a new pleasantly surprised dimension to the trip.

The Balinese new year, Nyepi,  otherwise known as silent day, coincides with Ugadi and few other Indian regional New Year dates. The day is dedicated to worship and there are large Ogoh-Ogoh, demon like statues built and paraded throughout Bali. The Ogoh-Ogoh are believed to scare away the evil spirits that visit Bali during this time. Also on Nyepi day due to the practice of no lights, no fire (no cooking), no travel, no noise the  evil spirit thinks that no life form is existing in Bali and they go back. Also its noteworthy that even the airports remain closed on this day.

First sight of much awaited Ogoh-Ogoh.  He looks scary doesnt he?

Good reason for Bali being called ‘the island of the Gods’. There are offerings to God kept at each shop, house entrances, street intersections and even inside the cars, boogies etc.  The offerings consists of flowers, rice, leaves on a handmade coconut palm leaf plate or bowl. Coconut palm leaves are used in decoration in the temples and to hold other forms of offering too.

offering on a road side in a coconut palm container

Decoration made of coconut palm leaves

Coconut palm decoration in front of a temple

Ubud is the cultural centre of Bali and we got to stay there at Santi Mandela. Vincy had dedicated a whole blog about this place, you can read it, here, in the earlier post.

The day before Nyepi :

From Ubud, we left to Nusa Dua the beach haven. On the way we witnessed many processions. We found that the days preceding Nyepi, there are huge processions that take the Ogoh-Ogoh along the road to the family temples. Each clan, if I can say have their own temples and each of them compete on whose procession and Ogoh-Ogoh is better.  Most men wear customized t-shirts, most women wear their traditional costume for the parade. They walk with offerings perched on their head. Again bamboo vase like baskets carry fruits, flowers etc.

The decorated Guardian statues in front of a temple, also called as Dwarapalas, on the eve of Nyepi

We also saw school going children in their uniform having a parade of their own. The Ogoh-Ogoh looked less scary. The whole island comes together to celebrate this.

We reached Hilton en-route to Tanah Lot - what a picturesque temple, there should be a blog on that as well.  Nusa Dua Hilton is a luxurious beach resort. We stepped out for lunch and found an Indian restaurant. We were secretly craving for Indian food :-) I would admit. 

The Evening is the day for the grand Nusa Dua parade. We found the temple venue and took a cab to witness the celebration. There were  Huge Ogoh-Ogoh, accompanied by people carrying fire torches.  The people were dressed thematically. We found people playing different kinds of percussion and wind instruments.   There were dance and music performances from each clan. Its equivalent to our Kovil Thiruvizha (temple festival), complete with chariots, band, music et all.  But not the commotion and noise. It was surreal.  We noticed that the people were with devotion, committed to the success of the parade.  The events were synchronized, and onlookers were also well behaved. Was a night to remember.

We had a quiet night by the beach. Stars looked bigger and brighter, and we all felt we might not have seen so many stars in the regular sky (pollution).

Here comes the Nyepi day : We had a grand buffet breakfast, and spent the day resort bound.

I could sum it up as : Lots of chirp, chatter and cheer. Eat, sleep and repeat. Photos, photos and more photos. Sun, sand, and pool.. Rest, relax and rejuvenate.. Wonderful vacation with a day for ourselves. No regrets whatsoever. We learned that, there is no other day like this ! Anywhere else in the World – Nyepi – Balinese New Year.

A week after the trip during my conversation with Rosy, she said – When will we ever get another chance to gaze at the stars, lying down at the beach?

A wonderful experience, for the eyes and the soul.

A twist in the beginning of the tale… errr.. holiday

So after months of meticulous planning, multiple calls and messages, discussions, disagreements and conciliation's,  lunch outs to finalise stuff and finally some random group shopping, Bali trip was finalised.  Our WhatsApp group name which changed from “ Babes to Bangkok”  to “ Babes are back”, now changed to "Babes to Bali".

If adventure and fun was the theme for Bangkok,  this time it was culture, architecture and pampering ourselves. ( for the new readers of the blog, 4 of us friends had done a Bangkok trip last year and you can read about  it here, here, here, and here). 

We were sure we had ticked all the things-to-do lists multiple times, cross checked with each other and this trip is going to be a smooth sail like our Bangkok trip.

It looks like our families are happy without us, and in fact, the youngest kid amongst our families, Sudha’s son was also waving us off in animated excitement at the airport. We bid the husbands and sons a pretentious sad farewell and waited for them to leave.  Then  we did a loud Yahooo and punched the air and gave each other the wickedest of our smiles.  The realisation that we are  mothers, corporate women and most importantly not left home turf yet, dawned on us and we quickly  regained our poise and balance.

Luggage’s in one trolley all set to go to the counter, we pinched ourselves yet again, to make sure this was real.  The four girlfriends ( One of the girls would join us from Australia)  were making it yet again for another holiday to Bali and it really sounded preposterous.  Twice as nice.

I signalled Jay and Sudha to stay on, and I went on to check at the counter.  We had time at hand and we were not in a hurry.  The counter space of our airlines was eerily empty and I thought to myself that we have reached much ahead of our time.   I still thought I will check in the next active counter that was buzzing with activity and the staff at that counter when enquired casually said, oh the flight to Bali?  That stands cancelled.  

This guy does not know a thing, I think to myself, and ask him if he was sure.  He says yes.  I think to myself again, we got a confirmation to web check in 4 hours before we left home and how can this be?

Jay and Sudha, who are standing a bit far away, smile at me slyly and I know they are pulling my legs.   I am sure they are saying, Vincy is flirting with the staff at the counter.  I see them giggle.  Now I am sure that’s what they said.   I smile back at them and show them signs to hold on.  I don’t want them to know there is some issue at the counter and want it sorted.  I still think, the staff is giving wrong information.

I insist that he checks again.  He sees a persevering woman and so pulls out a phone and calls the airline staff and confirms that our flights are cancelled. And the best part was, the flights were cancelled two months ago and our agent didn’t let us know.  Not just that, there was also a confirmation about our fight timings 4 hours back.

My face turns ashen, and  I couldn’t smile anymore.  I signal the  girls to come and tell them our flight is cancelled.  Sudha is furious and Jay is speechless.  I am lost.   Sudha stepped into action, partly because she was the one who booked the tickets and felt terrible about this mix up though it was not her fault.  

We called  the MakemyTrip team  and fired them left, right and centre.  Luckily for us we had all the documentation including the request for web check in details. MMT disagrees with us initially and then they finally accept their blunder on phone.  They asked us to take the next days’ flight which was not acceptable to us.  Our entire planning would go for a toss. 

Multiple escalations and arguments later MMT agrees to repay us the costs new ticket we would purchase right then at the airport.  We record the entire conversation for documentation purposes.

Indigo had a flight that starts almost at the same time of our flight that we were supposed to take, but with a  layover at Philippines and I run to the counter to pick the tickets.  A man is waiting before me and I tell the lady there that I need 3 tickets to Bali.  The man has an ashen face too, that would beat mine and he says he has to go Philippines to pick up his brother-in-laws body and I just fall silent.  The omens weren’t good.  He gets the ticket and I walk to the counter and the lady starts working on our ticket. Just then, She gets a phone call and says I am sorry Ma’am.  The airline’s itinerary has gone to the airport authorities and they have asked us to stop issuing the tickets. Second blow.  This was our chance to put it all back together.

I come back and tell this to the girls.  We all are fizzled out completely.

By now the airline staff at the counters who had seen all the drama unfold have started feeling sorry for us and they did the searching and told us there are tickets available in an airline but the flight would  start 8 hours later.  The ticket prices are exorbitantly high.   I look at the girls and make a decision - we are going for this.  Bali it is.

After some more drama of getting out of the airport, purchasing tickets  and some more drama to get back in, finally we three dance together looking at our Bali tickets.  The airport staff join us in the merry making.  They seemed more happy than us.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could bring down our spirits ( yeah except for a few minutes).  Not even the scare of not having tickets for our holidays.

After an excruciating 7 hour wait at the airport ticketing area,  Batik Airlines takes off with the three resilient women.   

Joyous laughter and chatter fill the otherwise dull early morning flight, in the knowledge that the worst is over.

Postscript :

As we had predicted we had a wonderful time in Bali.  I will try posting about the places we visited in Bali.

We fought our way through with MakeMyTrip guys and got back every penny that we paid for the new tickets. Thanks to the persistence and regular follow up of Sudha.  MMT budged, but they did put up a good fight with us. 

Mohan Master

This post is an ode to the man I owe my independence in locomotion. The man who helped me slay yet another ghost in my head. This is a long pending post.  A swaggering 3 and a half years.  Better late than never don’t they say?

I think of this guy almost every day for the past few years, thank him in my heart,  say a bless you in my head, and start my day.  ( BTW J knows about this guy in my life :-) :-) :-) ).  Car driving is one of the most rewarding learning of my life and the freedom to move around, without depending on anyone is almost a miracle.

I got to know about Mohan Master ( that’s how he likes to be called and makes it clear) through a friend, who said he specializes in teaching women to drive.  That was bang on my need at that point in time.

Thus starts my tryst with MM sometime in February - March 2014.  As promised he arrives at 5.30 am and asks me to start the car.  I have difficulty even with that.  I wonder how I ended up getting my license in 2009. 

MM reassures me.  Maddam, ( that’s how he calls me with an emphasis on the syllable D)  if you can walk in a city road, I can teach you to drive and I am certain you will be able to.  I do not believe him, though I desperately want to.

MM starts with the basic lessons in driving.  The actual  ABC’s of driving.  Accelerator, Brake and Clutch. He tells  me to wear shoes without heels and ones that are comfortable, driving without a shoe is a strict no-no.  Then a little advanced lesson – how to hold on to the steering.  The 9 – 3 position.   Both hands on the steering and the hands never crosses over each other.  Ever.   He says it with a kind of  sternness that I would dare not disobey.

The steering should not be held tightly and your hand glides on it.  I say Ok Mohan Master, very obediently, our terms have been established.

He takes me to an empty ground and asks me to circle the empty ground in the car.  I am able to do it.  He asks me to get down and look at the wheel tracks and see if it was a perfect circle.  The circle that I thought I actually drove, is an poor oblong longing to be a circle. He gets down from the car and asks me to do that again.  I  remember being worried about driving without him next to me.  He smiles and says, someday you got to drive alone. Second time it was simpler.  Same routine – get down and check the tracks.  Third time I feel a bit proud of myself.

He tells me to get back in the car.  I get back in more confidently.  Now he says track the number 8 while driving.  My eyes pop out.  MM gives a knowing smile and I know I have no option.

The ensuing classes get tougher from circle in the reverse and a number 8 in the reverse, and  I have serious doubts if I was actually a retard. 

The coffee table topic and the lunch table topics at office is always about my driving classes, those days.  My friends pre-empt what MM will make me do in the next class.  A circle with the help of just 2 front wheels, maybe?  The next would be just the usage of 2 side wheels.  Amidst all the laughter I realise I am no good at driving.

But this man does not give up on me.  By now we have moved from the empty ground to the real road.  The timings are the same. Early morning.  Rain or shine, MM will be there at 5.30 am.   He speaks dime a dozen, about various topics.  His travels around the world, his Vietnam trip, and how he loved China. I wonder silently if this man would stop it, so that I can focus.  Made a mental note to myself to stuff my ears with some cotton the next day.  He must have seen it cross my mind, he said, Maddam my conversation may irritate you today, but tomorrow when you drive with your friends you will thank me for the invaluable skill that I have taught you.  I smile sheepishly at being caught.

MM has another peculiar habit which kind of annoyed me.  Imagine me, trying to still figure out how to hold the steering and mind you always in 9 -3 position, manage the co-ordination between my left and right leg in-between figuring out which the A, B and the C are, and to also change gears ( most often I forgot the gear component of driving).  And then I got to focus on MM’s gibberish. 

It must have been the third or 4^th driving class.  MM asks me while I was trying to roll the vehicle on a highway, how may brakes does your car have?  What the heck, I thought.  One brake is what comes to mind.  Then I realise there is something called a handbrake, and I feel smarter already.  I blurt out two a little too loudly.  That’s when he shows me my place.  Maddam, you have 5 brakes in the car and I am thinking is this fellow out of his mind?

MM explains : The moment you take your leg off the accelerator, you are slowing the vehicle and that’s a kind of brake,  The car horn slows people down on the road, that’s the second one.  Applying the clutch is another form of braking.  Then the original brake and finally the handbrake.  Smart guy isn’t he?.  Now for the annoying stuff.  Maddam can you repeat whatever I said in the same order please?

And I was like WHAT?  

MM continues very calmly, repeat Maddam please.    By now I have forgotten the sequence and even the question,  remember I am driving.

He won’t relent at anything.  Makes sure you say it, the way he wants to hear it, even if it means I got to say it 5 times.  Every lesson he teaches including the steering position, gets repeated by me word for word the way he likes it.   The lessons advanced from moving up the gears while driving, take U turns on a busy road ( by now the timing changes to 7 to 8 am), reversing the vehicle, where to look while reversing, starting a vehicle using handbrake while you stop on a slope and also Parking the vehicle. 

The lessons overwhelm me, but when  I realise MM is around, I kind of feel confident to drive.

I especially like his sense of humour.  During one of the drives, MM says, Maddam your car has four wheels.   I am wondering which lesson he is going to teach me now.  Two in the front and two in the back. I quickly think there is one wheel in the boot.   MM continues  you forget the left wheel in the front of your car.  You got to pay attention.   Ohhhhhh… that’s the lesson.

By now, if I make a mistake, MM makes me pull over to the side of the road.  I felt like a school kid then.  I got to tell him what mistake I did and what should have been done instead.  And he will not help me with the mistake I did.  There were days when I had to pull over at least 3 – 4 times, and MM would be quite unsympathetic while I am actually figuring what went wrong.

So the lessons moved to a national highway where he made me unlearn some things that he initially taught. If need be, you gotta drive with your hand on the gear, so  on the highway, he wanted  me to hold the gear and the steering with one hand each and my hand should not move out of the gear.   The speed should be at 100 km per hour.  He would also appropriately motivate saying, Maddam you do so much of stuff that I cannot do, why do you even have these doubts.  Trust yourself and go on.

Some of what MM said may sound pretty fleeting, but I realised had very profound sense in them.  Once he told me, Maddam why are you looking so tensed when you are driving?  If you get tensed your mind will go blank.  Keep smiling.  You have a nice smile.   And that will also help you to think clearly.  I realised this guy is talking about what Amy Cuddy, a behavioural scientist speaks about in her TED X talk on how our body language defines the way we think, after decades of research.  I consciously smile after hearing that.

Finally I start driving on my own, and the lessons that he made me repeat after him, comes to mind whenever I make a mistake.  Maddam  do not change the gear while you are overtaking, I hear Mohan master say it in my head, when I do that on road, even today.   I smile in gratitude for those lessons.

A couple of weeks back, I parked my car in a an unobtrusive spot and when I come back from shopping, see a pick up truck just behind my car completely blocking my way out.  I waited for a while, to see if the driver is around.  I saw a guy hovering around the vehicle and checked if he was the driver.  He says the driver has gone into the building and will take 30 minutes to come.  I tell him that I need to take my vehicle out, and check if he can move the vehicle a little forward.  I cant drive, but the truck’s key is in the vehicle we can get someone to move it forward, he says.  Couple of men passed us and none one of them knew to drive.

Thats when it dawned on me, what the heck, you can drive Vincy.  I got into that fully loaded Yellow TATA 407 pick up truck and with some difficulty started the engine, figured out the first gear and moved it to the place I wanted. 

Hurray, Vincy !!! Mohan Master will be proud of you!!!

I wish I remembered to take a selfie :-(

Letting go, yet again

 In the earlier post I mentioned about letting go off the land beneath my foot and armed with that confidence, and overwhelmed with what I had just accomplished, we were herded to the next stop into yet another motor boat by our guide Lilly.

 

It took another 30 minutes to reach the next boat close to a small patch of reef that fringes Coral Island called the Koh-Lam in Thai. We all had signed up for the underwater sea walk, purely intrigued by the idea and Lilly handed us over to our new guide, an Indian who was multilingual. A well-built Indian who could speak in broken English, Hindi and Thai language (for the benefit of few south Asians who were with us).

 

He assumed all of us can understand Hindi, and though not very versatile with the language (shame on me), I managed to figure out the instructions he gave. Jay, having been brought in the north chipped in and helped. With all seriousness he gave us the instructions and with all our might we listened to him. I listened out of sheer fear. I was not comfortable with water and the awesome looking blue blue aquamarinish water didn’t look all that great, the moment he was saying you will all go under water and remember you cannot speak under water, so you need to know how to communicate.

We were given black gloves and he explained the whole process of communicating with our hands. He also assured that we need not necessarily know swimming for this activity. Quite a breather that one was. He further assured, all the better if you didn’t know swimming. You only have to sink in the water. Made a note to myself, Learn Swimming.

 

Communication.. Sounds pretty simple for someone who does that for a living. (Me) But under water communication?? the few butterflies that I had when I went for parasailing, multiplied manifold suddenly that they didn’t have space in my tummy to fly. I was desperately trying to hide my fear. The breeze that was blowing was making us feel cold and I found myself trembling. Difficult to say if it was the chillness or if it was the fear. But company the of four helped. We laughed and joked and took pictures (yeah we never missed that one).

 

Here we had to climb down from a platform on the boat, to metal stairs that went into seawater, like the ones that you see in swimming pools. When water is at your chest level, they instruct you to walk on one strip of metal to the guy who holds a heavy white coloured astronaut like bubble helmet. The bubble helmet is connected to a tube that in turn is connected to the oxygen tank, so that we get a constant supply of oxygen and also stops the seawater ingressing into the helmet.

 

I was second in the line, and as per instructions given, after the first person goes down, the divers on board would place the bubble on my head. And that moment I have to let go of my hands from the steel bars that I was holding onto. My biggest doubt was, if I will let go. I told myself, its too late now to back off, all others are doing it, none of them know swimming and there are scuba divers down there to help.

 

Then it happened. The bubble was placed on my head and I just let go. Yeah I did. First time ever I went underwater, followed the instruction of the Indian guide who told us to swallow saliva to maintain the air pressure and I was kind of fine. I kept going down until my feet touched the fine coral of the sea bed. I could see the first guy who was the only guy with our four member team, down there and I frantically held on to his hand. Tightly. I was floating and my feet would not stay firm on the sea bed. 

Have I made a wrong choice of opting into this adventure sport?
Did I pay for my own funeral in Thai bhats?
Will I die under water? Will I make it back home?
What if the water gets above the chin, after all, the distance between the chin and the nose is just a couple of inches.

If I am struggling for breath and what if none of scuba divers see?

Questions to myself and my initial thoughts under water.

By then a scuba diver held my legs and steadied it on the sea bed. The water pressure makes it unable to stand still and gives a feeling of floating. Like air pressure, realised the prowess of water pressure too. I repeatedly try and steady myself. In a few minutes all seems well.

 

I saw Jay coming down and holding my left hand. Relief writ large on my eyes, we could see eye to eye. A diver came in front of me and checked if all was okay. I communicated correctly, remembered my sign language and showed him the correct sign.

 

I could see Jay had some trouble with the air pressure and the body guard helping her. She is being steadied too. I didn’t let go of the grip of my right hand. Jay was holding my left hand. Things were falling in place. I could see a reef in the sea bed, fishes swimming a little far away. I could see the sea bed, and the divers clearly and a lot of organisms which I could not identify. We have seen these so many times in Discovery channel and didn’t give two hoots about what grit it involves.

Then the show begins. One of the divers comes close to me and pulls my hand and saves the first guy from my vice-like grip. He must have felt so relieved. He handed all of us a piece of bread and almost magically, a huge school of fish comes to feed from our hands. The fishes are just inches away from the helmets. Some are small, some big and all are colourful.

 

The fishes are cautious, hesitant but like us they are driven by the strength of a group. They are also smart and sometimes peck my fingers and it all feels so good. Some fishes are touching my legs too. I dare not look down as we were instructed not to bend down or look up. We can only look sideways through the bubble helmet. For the time being I enjoy the tingling feeling when the fishes brush past you. We are allowed to touch pieces of live coral and the whole thing is a fine display.

 

I cannot believe myself. I am amazed at what I am doing underwater walking on the south Asian sea bed. Fear takes a back seat (not completely vanished though) and I take in all that I can see through my helmet. The divers are hovering around.

 

We should have been there for 20 minutes. And we hear a long tap on metal from up above. The divers come for us and help us go up to the stairway that seems to hang in water. As I come out, the bubble is removed from my head and not a drop of water above my chin.

 

Four of us laugh, dance, chatter and rejoice – this was the best experience of our trip. The waters looked Cobalt blue now, fear replaced with ecstasy and the magic returns.

Letting go helped.

Post Script:
We had paid up for under water photographs, but particular day, there was some technical snag with the camera and they couldn’t give us our photographs under water.

Babes to Bangkok

Pre-script:

This is a delayed post. delayed by a month. this has been in draft version as I was organizing something else and this was totally forgotten. now you can continue to read the post... at your own peril :-)
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“Travel and tell no one, live a true love story and tell no one, live happily and tell no one, people ruin beautiful things.” Says Khalil Gibran.

While I love this quote much, its difficult to follow this one. Have you ever tried it?

And hence I will continue to bore you guys with the banter of the little things and ofcourse the big things that is going on in my life. well, anyways you guys do not ruin beautiful things.

Coming to the title, I realise it is an exaggeration to call myself a babe – but what the heck, if not now, then When? With a pricking conscience I will continue with this title. Also, this was the name of our group in Whatsapp right from the time we started discussing about this trip and so I am kind of attached to this name. ( pardon me and my friends for the abundance of vanity and appreciate us for the sense of humour).

It all started off with a casual conversation that my friend Sudha and I were having, over a cup of our regular cafeteria coffee, which tastes differently every single day depending on the mood of the lady who puts in the mix for coffee in the vending machine. We religiously drink this concoction every single day to a point that we are almost addicted to it, which is another story altogether. I digress here.

So an all girls women trip idea was born and you know, “The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” And that’s how it all began. Way back in October 2016.

I initially thought this is one of those stuff which may fizzle out after some discussion, which did not happen fortunately. We were determined to go even if it was just two of us, but we got 2 others who were as crazy as us. Jay is our friend from the current organisation and my friend Rosy who is settled in Australia showed a lot of interest to join us. The plan was that she will join us at Bangkok from Australia and return with us to India. Why did we choose Bangkok – we really do not know.

If we were clear about one point about this trip, it was the fact that this was going to be all girls and no family, though all three others had little children who may want to join. Cruel women we must be right, but you know what, we thought we mothers will make ourselves a priority once in a while – It is not being selfish, a break is always necessary.

Like our Marathon running, we read up, worked with our tour operator, that poor fellow must have gone crazy with the repeated calls and requests to change the itinerary every time a good friend suggests a new place. Shilpa my friend from Bangalore had just been to Bangkok on a holiday end of January and she ran through our itinerary one last time and she helped finalise the plan. Her inputs were so precise, detailed but specific that we felt we could have done away with our tour operator.

Sudha is such a meticulous planner that she had created an excel sheet which had the every day trip broken up into an hour-wise agenda, which included distance between our hotel and the spot we were visiting, address, point of contact and hold your breath guys, she also had the number of dresses, kind of dress needed for every day, including the kind of footwear. Other than this the excel also had check list under various categories like documents to carry, cosmetics, beachwear, and what not. A big salute to Sudha for her eye for detail.

I was the oldest among the group, and surprisingly the families of the other three, were sending them just because I was there. Funny. Thankfully the families didn’t get see the other side of the goody goody Moi.

The trip was an amazing one and it was an experience of a life time – fun, laughter, thrill, joy and what not. For a bunch of working mothers, it was reliving our college days. After our college days, this was the first time, we were all travelling with our friends and that made it even more awesome. Support from families helped quite a bit.

For a place of tourist attraction, Bangkok surprised us with its cleanliness, wide variety of food, quality of stuff available and the fun activities we could do. The first two days were at Pattaya and next two in Bangkok city. We had safe fun with reckless abandon, and did so many things that I never ever imagined I would do. We all went in for the Underwater sea Walk, fed the fishes there, did Para-sailing, went on a water scooter – unbelievable considering the fact that I am scared of water, watching those massive Buddha statues, listening to the funny English slang of the people. The best part of this trip was we were never tired of posing for pictures or taking pictures. 3 mobiles and 1 DSLR together has more than 2000+ pictures. We were creating memories and a few of them were life changing.

The best fun was when we were shopping. Each of us have a different approach to shopping and all hell broke loose those couple of hours when we went in for it and enjoyed it to bits. Slept late every single day but we were all up in the morning all set for the next day. The only problem we had was with Thai food and somehow, none of us could get accustomed to the smell or the food.

We came back all rejuvenated to truck loads of work, but are convinced we will do it again. Some other place. Soon. ( Rekha are you listening???)

Sharing a few memories with you folks.

The blue blue beaches of  Pattaya - Coral Island

Any guesses on how this shot was taken?

and the word down there is babes

At Safari world, Bangkok

The mandatory one

Nong Nooch cultural village, Pattaya.

A painful rememberance

When I first got introduced to this friend, there is something that was spoken, and it had struck me as something unique and something no one has said to me, till date.   We both were working from different cities and after the official meet and the chirpy voice came in and said, Hey Vincy Bye for now.  but you know what, I will turn up like a bad penny.

We went on to become best pals for more than a decade and a half.  Unfortunately, things went downhill a week back. Today while I was digging my draft posts, long forgotten, I came across this poem, written with this same friend in mind, and in essence it tuned up like a bad penny, I should say.  

Would you believe me if I tell you

I am in a constant monologue with you ?

Sharing my life’s moments, little aspirations

Memories, dreams, fears and even insignificant stuff?

Would you believe me if I tell you

I live in a make-believe world

And you are a beautiful part of it.

Everything that I have ever asked for

Would you believe me if I tell you

You piece me together when I am broken

Give me new horizons to look for and

Set my benchmark ever high so I can reach them

Would you believe me if I tell you

I feel worthwhile when I listen to you

Often realising my own worth

That has lost its sheen in my own eyes

Would you believe me if I tell you

I am so thankful you are in my life

Though I may not ever say it to you

And there’s no chance you will read this

What I believe in is the fact

That none crosses our path  without HIS plan

and you my friend

are definitely no coincidence.

Vincy Joseph

The Rajini Fever

Last Friday 22^nd of July was the release of “Thalaivar’s”  movie titled Kabali.

I know. 

Old news. 

If you are in India, chances are, you know all about this movie and by now you must have read atleast 10 reviews about it.  I am waiting for my blog friend Gils’ review of the movie.  

My city Chennai, where the Thalaivar belongs  was in a frenzied mode last week  – even the roads, were bubbling with activity.  The RJ’s of every Radio station worth its salt had to run some shows on the movie for at least a week.   I was surprised that the organisation that I work for is also running some games from last week for Kabali fans.  Here is a sample for you.

I just figured out that there was a Movie theatre on my way to work and I have been travelling that route for the last couple of years and have never noticed it, for the life of me.  On 22^nd, I saw a big rush in a particular spot which normally goes unnoticed during my drive and I also saw cops there managing the crowd.  Initially I thought there must have been an accident  but only when I saw Kabali posters I realised that was/ is a theatre.

Anyway FB is filled with FDFS for Kabali from almost everyone whom I seem to have in the friends list.  

FDFS you wonder?  First Day First Show.

I felt like the odd one out amongst so many hard-core fans around me – workplace, neighbours, friends, relatives.  Some of my elite friends in US were having special screening for small groups of people.  I wonder how they manage that.  I didn’t feel like watching the FDFS – no not even a  remote wish.  Even  If I got a ticket, I want really interested. Not that I attempted to get one.  Dennu, my college kid was just like me.  No talk about FDFS for  Kabali not the later shows.   On Friday evening he was narrating how one of his friends in class was crying because she couldn’t watch FDFS but managed to get tickets at a theatre called Albert the next day and my son apparently seems to have advised her not to go to that theatre as the crowd that normally come there is not their “TYPE”.  ( I should figure out how he got to know that – that is for a later day)

But all these rage for Rajini got me back into my childhood

Wind back to CIRCA late 70’s / early 80’s

I must have been in class 4 or so and I was a true blue Rajini fan.  Hmm yes.  You heard me right.

There were two popular south Indian actors then, my generation of those days of yore, who we would  vie for  - Kamal Hassan or Rajinikanth.  Amongst my cousins who were my bum chums, we had two groups the Kamal fans and the Rajini fans.  Every Sunday after the evening mass, we ( four families) get together in my Uncles house on the way to church and the kids get to play and the elders get to chat.  Television had not penetrated our families and we got to do some real time bonding activities.

One of the activity that I remember was the animated story telling.  My older cousin ( he must have been in his 8^th or 9^th standard) would narrate to us stories of the movies that he gets to see.  And he was the head of our Rajini Fan club.  He watched only Rajini movies. 

His narration would start with even the title screens  “Tan-ta-daaan”  starring Rajinikanth, the directors name etc.,. Fights go with the “ Dishoom Dishoom “  sound, when there is an animal in the movie then the sound of the animal is mimicked like the Gallop of the horses or the trumpet of an Elephant, hand gestures thrown in liberally,  every shot is explained in detail which includes Rajinis dresses, his unique mannerisms, his hair styles, his accessories, every accompanying sound track and we the Rajini fans would be mesmerised to a point where we had  gooseflesh on us.  The story telling would go on until we get the call from our parents to get back. Usually a movie will go on for more than 4 or 5 weeks and I remember imagining those scenes in my head, much after the story was told. The subsequent Sunday I also remember  helping the narrator with the point where he had stopped.

Memories of my younger-mesmerised-Rajini-Fan-Self came flooding back and  a smile is plastered on my face.  Most Rajini fans around me are relating it to the movie’s release. :-)

P.S: 

I should call Gijo Chetan and tell him how much he is remembered.