Time waits for no one - Never in a Gazillion years

“Time flies” is a well worn, beaten to death cliché until each one of us experience it ourselves one fine morning, and then the intensity of this expression hits us. :-) I look back now and realize that its one full year since we moved out of our home in Chennai into an apartment (in another part of Chennai) and made this our home.

In 2007, when we moved into our own independent house ( yeah we can call it that it has a compound wall, we can feel mother earth in tiny patches and there is a terrace that we can call ours – ignoring the fact that if I extend arms from my terrace I can touch my neighbors parapet and the coconut trees in my neighbors house actually look like our own, if these silly stuff are discounted, its still an independent house for definition sakes), at least I never dreamt that I would move out of that place for a long time to come.

When we changed Sonny’s school, that he hates right now, it was difficult for him to travel to his school which was at least 15 kms away and the metro rail that is coming up en route was not helping in any way to reduce the travelling time. My son was moving into class Eleven and there needs to be so much focus into studies, we decided to put him in the current school and anyways it was just for 2 years until he completes his class XII. So hubby and I decided to make his life simpler so that he gives undivided attention to his studies (we realized that it was already difficult with the grinding he was getting at school) and we confirmed the move. Sonny was the unhappiest and felt sad about leaving his room. He says he still misses his room. He loved his room for whatever reasons, many of which I do not endorse. His room was on the first floor so he got a lot of undisturbed time, with me feeling lazy to go up to check on him for one. And many other such stuff.

Once the move was decided, we just took a week’s time,( to the surprise of our entire family - read the parents and other relatives) to find a house, get movers and packers and actually move. With all the stuff that we had accumulated in a large house for over 4 years we realized the kind of junk we can stockpile in a house without actually being aware of it. And we told ourselves, the moment Sonny finishes school we are going to be back to our own place. For one, our own house was planned in detail and so much of effort has gone into it, and two we were all sentimentally attached to it.

Now Dennu, that’s how we call our Sonny boy normally, from the new apartment, can cycle to his school in less than 15 minutes and imagine he does not have to go through any main roads. The apartment is a very nice place, quite spacious lot of facilities that we do not have in our own place, like a Swimming pool, basket ball court, a gym, play area for children etc., Being an apartment the cleaning /dusting /wiping and arranging bit is much easier – let me tell you I am a compulsive maniac at it, but it still is not our “own” place. You get the feeling?

So I was calculating today and I realized in another 9 – 10 months we got to move back. I am looking forward to it and I probably would be the first woman on earth who loves to shift. And I already have prepared a list of 32 (yeah just 32 alterations which will make us a few lakhs poorer, but what the heck) that we need to do before we get back to our “own” place. I have been dropping hints, messages to hubby dear about the changes I have in mind, but haven’t yet shown the list to him. You see I am the organized kind so I have an excel sheet that has the changes, approx cost and the total cost. Need to prepare him adequately before actually showing him the list. He will realize yet again sadly, that lessons in prudence over indulgence has not had an effect on me, even after 17 and a half years of sermons at home.

So today I was wondering about how soon time flies and before we realize, a year flies by, with a whole lot of changes in our lives.

Just a doubt though at this point in time. Does time fly faster when you are older? Oh no I am not OLD as in old. :-() just generally checking!

A lazy saturday morning and a reason to be thrilled to bits

Today is one of those days that I wish were in plenty in a month.   After sending  Sonny to school, (he insisted on a lunch from his canteen probably fed up of my lunches, no he specifically said all his friends were planning to eat together at the canteen today,  with hubby dear away on a trip and will not return till this evening, read midnight,  the compulsive cleaning / dusting /vaccuming  of our home done last saturday, today looks like a dreamers paradise.

Havent been getting any ME time of late,  and I am determined to make the best of the day.  After a quick breakfast I sat down to give a hard look at my blog, added some gadgets, do you see the difference on my bliog? ( BTW, Vincy Who are you speaking to?  Still fantasising a reader base?  - just a little self-reprimand folks) and also blog waltzed into reflections.  I should say the blog is simply good and my kinda space.  Loved reading everything that i managed to read in a couple of hours.   Like I mentioned in the comment that I left her, truly felt like a kid in a candy store. :-) yep I left a comment for her following one of her tips in her blog post.

I  really didnt have a topic in mind when i started to blog today and I know some days the topic evolves and you stumble on stuff enexpectedly, like how met Diana online. :-)  I have to tell you something about my self, I have been dilly dallying about changing the look and feel of my hair  for the last 5 years.  yeah you saw it right it was last 5 years.  

I even tried temporary stratightening a couple of times to check how it actually looks and though I was convinced about the way my hair fell on my shoulders, I was wondering if i might lose more hair or if i will damage what i already have.  I should tell you this, I like my original texture of my hair and though it is not as thick as it used to be when i was younger, its still decent and I do end up getting some compliments for my hair.  Its just that the devil gets into your head sometimes and just plays some pranks and some of these thoughts never get away until you give in to the temptations.

I know I will not get any support from my hubby dear as he feels strongly against anything done to my hair - just that he stopped commenting on it these days as he knew I cannot be controlled on matters of mane.  :-) So finally I took that important decision just before my birthday that I am going in for an hair smoothening treatment and told myself that this one i am doing for myself, a gift to myself on my 42nd birhtday and nothing was going to stop me.  I also wanted to surpirse ( to be read as create displeasure) everyone at home and booked an appointment with my beautician. 

If you read my earlier post here, you would know my dad had a surgery on my birthday and my date with the beautician had to be cancelled.  With my dad going through a surgery i was in no mood to go in for a life defining decision for myself.  So it got put off to later and finally I got it done the beginning of this month and I should tell you I just love the feel of it.  It feels good, my hair does not feel messy these days, not many bad hair days and the best part is even in the dust and grime of Chennai where i live, I manage to leave my hair loose.  I just love running my fingers through my hair, the hair fall surprisingly has reduced - i was so worried, I even begged pardon to my hair for putting it through chemical and heat treatments as part of this process and was pleading it not to protest by dropping off.

So, I am loving myself and I also coincided my hair smoothening just before my team meeting so I got to show off my new found fantasy.

I am now leaving you all with a picture taken during the meeting that I was MCing, by one of my silent team mates without my knowledge,

Dont I look quite content with myself?  I am.

Folks you would do me a favour if you leave a comment. wont you? besides, I truly  would love listening to you, so dont forget to leave a comment on my blog :-)

Tears

They threaten to peep out

Uncontrollably. Any moment.

Got to remind them relentlessly

They are precious expressions

Not to be wasted on inane stuff
 

They retreat without a trace

Leaving their sting of saltiness

on a open raw wound

I nurse the throbbing wound

In realization, its not easy to heal
 

Pain, now is soothing

‘cos it is better than dignity besmirched

One day in the future, a zillion stings later

The wound will begin to heal

Time, unmistakeably, is a great healer
 

Till then

Silent. Forlorn. Wounded.

I continue persistently

to give lessons in obedience

To my precious tears.

Vincy Joseph

Alone in the woods

The road is winding and long
And I see as far as my eye can see
I am alone with no one around
loneliness pricking into my bones.

I am still trying to enjoy the walk
Hoping someone ostensibly caring
And so full of love
Will come along the journey

Is it too much
to ask for kindness and care
Someone who would really
Be there for support

Every question has an answer
And every answer shreds the heart
Into a million pieces and
Its obvious you don’t care anymore.

Shrapnel of words
Destroying all that comes its way
Hits in disbelief, disdain
Leaving just an image without a soul

Wish you could see the pain
Behind every action and smile
Worser still is the fact that
You never look at my eyes

Makes me want to run for cover
Hide from the world
Close my eyes and get into a slumber
But I know

The road is winding and long
And I see as far as my eye can see
I am alone with no one around
loneliness pricking into my bones.

Lost and Found

The joys of finding some object after having lost it ( unless you have lost it intentionally ) is something of great elation to all of us. Many of us go to great lengths to find the stuff we lost, look for divine intervention and are persistent at finding and in such cases, most probably, we always find them. I have an experience of finding a pendant gifted to me by my friends which I have described here.

We also lose track of people – don’t we? There are some people from our childhood or from our past that we have lost touch with and spend many precious moments in nostalgia about the good times we have had. And however much we want to be in touch with them, somehow destiny wouldn’t allow you to reach them even in these days of technical brilliance, information transparency and availability of all details public social media. Actually I think it is very difficult to hide from public eye these days. Every action of yours, even your trips to the loo in a public space is being tracked. LOL.

Some very precious people from my life too have vanished altogether and many attempts to reach out to them have been in vain – I am persisting and hoping that will yield results. One such instance is my friend Sumai, who kind of left me in the lurch 7 years back. ( I am not sure who left who in the lurch but I guess each of us had a good role to play in that).

I was hoping that time would take the sting away of losing her, but surprisingly it didn’t. We met while at work in my earlier organisation sometime in the year 2000 or 2001 and we were not the same kind, I would say we were kind of opposites – She was quite, mature and grounded and I was all that she was not. She was a Bengali and I was Malayalee, non-resident in our respecitive states and were in Chennai together (that probably is the closest we could get on similarities) Opposites attract and we hit it off pretty well and in a large group we always knew we were there for each other.

We could see the same ironies of certain situation, humour in the most intense stuff around us and most of all we understood each other – quite deeply. I remember she noticing my slightest mood fluctuations, knew my innermost fears and sometimes put my vagabond soul on a leash. We laughed, talked, shopped, worked, gossiped and were partners in crime and humour during those 4 – 5 years that we knew each other (and that’s a considerably long time). We went on for official get togethers, lunches and dinners shared our simple joys and sorrows, cried on each others shoulders, laughed our guts out at most ridiculous stuff and most of all were good reliable friends.

Sumai had to move to Calcutta as her better half was getting a transfer and it was quite painful for all of us in the group to let her go. She did, only after sharing all co-ordinates and numbers - We were in touch initially exchanged mails, called each other, updated our day to day stuff and she even came down to Chennai once after an year and met all of us. I don’t know how and when but I guess we moved away from each other, slowly but steadily, drifting away only to lose sight of each other completely.

By the time reality hit me, I had a server crash, my email account changed, lost my mobile contacts a couple of times and in short lost Sumai. Then there were frantic attempts to track her down. I was surprised our common friends also had lost her contacts and due to reasons similar to mine. I rummaged through loads of mail and pulled out her home contacts, left scores of messages on the answering machine, called her office only to find she moved out of that organisation long ago and was beginning to lose hope.

While rummaging through the mails I also happened to get her email id and I had shot out a mail to her, expecting a reply immediately which did not happen. Anyways in the first place that didn’t look like an valid email address.

One of the days last month I had a message from an unknown number and it had the most profound message – It said “Hi… Sumita”. I literally sat up for a couple of minutes with a wide grin. Called her and it was as though we didn’t lose each other at all. My first question was “where were you, I have been looking for you for such a long time” and her reply was so much herself “ Vincy, you are in a very good position now, so don’t lie” in a very laid back manner. And we laughed and laughed like old times.

Lost, but found.

A talk at Industry - Institute Conclave

When the invite to be a "Guest-of-honour" came, I was a litte surprised as I wasnt expecting these kind of stuff, while I am in my current organisation.  In the organisation that I had worked earlier, this was common - I regularly travel to various institutions to give them pep talk and speak about how they can prepare themselves to enter into IT industry, the crucial shifts the students need to make in order to be industry ready.

It is Indian tradition to light a lamp before any occasion
and is considered auspicious



While I was happy that I was called to share my 2 decades worth experience in the Industry-Institute Conclave, to let them know what the industry expects from the institute, I wasnt sure what to expect for.  The organising committee happens to be my ex-boss' freinds and everything went without a glitch. The programme was on 9th of June, a Saturday and I was told it will be attended by people from various institutions ( like the heads of institutions, professors and lecturers) and people from IT industry and after a couple of rounds of discussions, I was clear about my target audience.

Yet another Indian Tradition - Ponnadai
A superfine looking cloth generally made of silk in golden
colour used to put around the neck like a garland for
respecting the august presence of a VIP



The talk I prepared and delivered had the central theme of what the IT industry in particular is expecting from the students who are their resources. So my talk had three parts - After breifly touching upon our Indian Education system, the pros and cons I went ahead and focused on  What can Institutions do proactively to prepare students for their career in IT, What can IT industries in turn can do to prepare the Engineering Students and finally what does the IT industry expect from the Campus Force. My talk was laced with my own experiences of dealing with the Freshers and the IT workforce in my previous organisation.



The presentation went on well, good reception, many people ( especially the institute that organised this conclave) told me that they had some good pointers for the current financial year and every one who spoke after me, referred to many of the points that I brought out.  So, I guess it was a good one - I have some pictures of the Conclave that I was into.  Made sure I was formally dressed for the occasion - am rarely draped in a Saree ( traditional Indian dress), and this time I made an exception to be in one.  :-)  thoroughly enjoyed the session. Hopefully that was the case with the audience too.

The Talk by "Guest-of-honour"

I should mention about how a picture of this talk came in some of the the local dailies and more than me, my parents and family ( including my son) were thrilled to bits. :-)



Birthday Wishes in many forms

I still look forward to the birthdays and get all excited when family, friends and loved ones call to wish me, and when I get gifts.  I kept wondering if Joe or Dennu would forget my birthday and if they were planning to buy me gifts and what will those gifts be. Silly me, defnitely the pussilanimous species. I know I am opening up on my blog these days, more than ever, but that's immaterial and  does not matter.  I have decided to let my hair down on my blog and be myself.  Thats the prime objective of me having a blog space in the first place.

So, for more than a couple of weeks I have been wondering if my birthday was on their minds and wondering what their plans are and all my doubts were put to rest, when Joe very lovingly asked me what would I want for the birthday.  I guess all my pent up anxiety just peeped out, just the way children run out of classrooms during recess time,  at that very question and I blurted out a long list to Joe ( the list was so long - number one,  he had a wierd expression on his face and number 2.  after a while I guess, heard him snoring).  He never brought up the topic again, which kept me thinking that i over reacted a bit at the slightest prodding.  anyways.

As a mentioned in the earlier post a couple of days prior to my birthday, my brother and I finalised my dad's surgery and somehow my birthday went deep down in my priority listing and infact, didnt matter anymore.  All I wanted in life was a safe and successful surgery and quick recovery for my dad.  The night before my dads surgery, I just could not sleep and was fretting over the surgery to Joe and didnt let the poor soul sleep till 2.30 in the night.

So i didnt read the midnight messages that came to my message box, or the mails till quite early in the morning, while we were driving to the hospital.  Every call that came, I only saw that as an opportunity to ask for a prayer request for my dad - and am thankful I had many.

My Dad ( and ofcourse, others in the family) wished me before he could be wheeled to the Operation theatre and the day was filled with anxious moments of dad being wheeled out of OT, then to the ICU for observation, his first liquid meal, his first solid meal, all those catheters on him and  left for home in teh afternoon only  to check on my twin nephews who were there with my MIL.

Two little fellas, the dizigotic twins ( like the ones in Arundathi Roy's Novel) completely different from each other in their looks, height, weight and mannerisms, that noone would call them twins if not for the similar clothes that they wear.  One of the little fellows announced to me the other  day, they are just 9 years old, that when they marry they would marry twins.   LOL :-)

So, in the evening my brother kept insisting on me coming back to the hospital and I thought it would be a good idea to get my son and nephews to meet dad at hosptial and was trying to get the three musketeers ready and I found them all huddled together over something and the moment they spotted me got into dumb charades.

Birthday card by Jerry

I quickly asked them to have a wash and get ready and I myself was getting ready, which i can do real quick, and when i walked out of the room, the three musketeers had this for me.  The birthday had gone out of my mind completely and so this took me by complete surprise.  My son had a nice gift for me and big card down there you see in the pictures were his and the pink tissue wishes were the ones my nephews made extempore in less than 5 minutes. So lovely they made use of the stuff around and created birthday wishes for me in a jiffy, the moment they knew Dennu had a card and gift for me.

Birthday Card by Jeffrey

Felt very touched and had some wonderful Mamma melting moments along with the Aunt moments and was unprepared for what was awaiting me at the hospital. The men in the family (Dad, hubby - infact, he had to leave for Delhi in the afternoon on an official visit and bro) planned a little surrpise, which had me with moist eyes.  There was a birthday cake, some pizzas and a nice gift from my parents and brother and I had to cut the cake on the trolley table that is used to serve food for the patient - in full view of the patient and surprisingly it was quite Joyous as I could see my Dad smiling through all this.



Dennu's Card



F.R.I.E.N.D.S

My dad has been in the hospital this week for a surgery ( actually a couple of them) and is recovering well. I am sure prayers from all corners would help. Readers of my blog, please do say a little prayer for him.

I believe in two things in life from the bottom of my .. hmmm..toe… Number one. Prayers. Number two. Positivity.

The decision for a surgery had to taken in a kind of hurry with my brother in town and wanting to complete in when the legal heir ( LOL :-) )  is present. A comfort for my parents. Gave in to all those sentiments while my brother and I had a lot of discussions in finalizing the dates, hospital and doctor. When it comes to a loved one, we are naturally worried and sought after all the prayers that we can garner for.

Had some nice reverse-parent moments when I was waiting for my dad’s reports to arrive and the doctor proclaimed “ You cant ask for a better report” with all results tilted in his favour. I felt so happy and I realized this was how my parents would have gone through my parent teacher meetings :-)

So it was natural that I called my friends, who are really close and the surgery happened to be on my birthday and it helped when people called, I thanked and asked them for a little prayer in return.

My friend Anita as usual was full of support and strength, inspite of the loss she was going through herself, her aunt had passed away suddenly a couple of days back. We comforted each other – She being so far away does not help.

There were scores of cousins and friends of yesteryears, who kept checking on me and dad, constantly, on how he was recovering and assuring me of prayers.

I should mention about Daniel, who was himself in hospital for his daughters’ appendectomy, constantly checking on my dad.

My friend Petula, surprised that I hadn’t mentioned a word about this surgery so long, asked me about the hospital to visit my dad. So I gave her the address and I knew with my parents she is quite comfortable and my mom called back to tell me later in the evening that Petula brought dinner for my parents when she went visiting.

So touched they were about the dinner, they couldn’t stop speaking about it. Its not the dinner, but the intent behind the dinner that overwhelmed me. Inspite of her busy schedule she could make time for this. It is at times like this you realize the one’s who really care ( however far they are from you) and the ones who don’t.

Feel blessed for friends who care, love and allow me the grace of friendship especially when they themselves are going through tremendous pain. I wish I can bring the same care and comfort to all my friends too.

A birthday at hospital ( my birthday folks was on 18th June - wishes still accepted in cash or kind), nevertheless was joyous, no matter what life throws at you, because there is a lot of joy in having a great family and lovely friends along this ride, called L.I.F.E.

P.S:  Dont forget to say the little prayer for my dad :-)

Wicked Joy of having women friends !

A TON is always special.  This is my 100th post and just as the number suggests a special one.

Having been brought up in a metro, (Chennai is definitely a metro, folks) as a person I do have as many men friends as women friends. I was raised in a suburb in Chennai where there was no dearth for families of my own community and having lived with a large set of second cousins and distant relatives only helped foster these friendships. Today some of my best friends are men with whom there is a bond that dates back to childhood and those growing up juvenile years and memories of those days still bring nostalgia. While I studied in an all Girls school and later all Women’s college and the first two years of work (what a ridiculous fate?) were with women, I never felt funny or inhibited to strike a conversation with a boy (those days) or men because of my background and upbringing. Though today I might not be in constant touch with all those so called “men” friends ( in my mind, I realize with these close friends there’s no such distinction) we all can just pick up conversations from wherever, and move along.

A couple of months back, I was going for a funeral and wanted to know the exact location of the church, ( hubby dear gets worked up if he does not have the right directions, or worse still he will stress me out) and was wondering who would know and instantly this childhood friend flashed up in my mind and I knew he lived there. I didn’t even have to think twice, when I had to dial his number and imagine I had not spoken to him for more than 6 months and we could go ahead with a conversation as if we were talking to each other almost every day. Am making a mental note now to call him coz this reminds me I haven’t called him after that :-) The point is with close friends most of us are comfortable regardless of their gender – that’s why they are our best pals right?

Ever noticed I am writing something tangentially opposite to the blog topic that I start – its becoming a habit. Mental note two. Stick to your topic when you start one.

Okay folks this blog is about Women friends – the kind that I have befriended at my earlier workplace and today most of us work in good positions in different organisations. And that’s a pure “women only group” and does not deserve to be trivialized just because we are wicked to each other.

If I were to record our everyday lunch sessions those days that would be great fodder for interesting blog posts every single day and that would be like leading myself to the gallows straight - With all the information and fun going public in a virtual platform. One of the things that each one of us in the group miss these days in our current workplaces, is the lunch sessions laced with entertainment, torrents of laughter, liberal dose of movie dialogues, lots of sarcasm, pun and of course delicious home made lunch from many homes.

On days when there are no incidents that would bring in laughter from outside our group, or when we do not have enough “matter” to strip some of the folks with whom we used to work then, of their trousers, the group directs its energies on one its members and we do not even spare our spouses, children, relatives and even our extended support systems. I (in fact, almost everyone in the group) have been victim of this group-directed-humor many times and any attempts of mild disapproval to the comments will elicit more damage than before, leading to the group’s general sense of cheap gratification. We are so professional otherwise, the lunch room kind of transforms us, into these wicked avatars, squealing in laughter like school girls and unleashing our potential to tickle up our funny bones. I guess that was a great stress buster for all of us.

Another interesting part of our lunch then was the fact that we ate from any lunch box that anyone brings in and we do not stick to strictly our own boxes. It became such an habit that I ( and of course the others in the group) never feel complete when we do not dig our hands into someone else’s plate during a meal, be it at home, office or a five star restaurant. Not too late to pick some good habits(?) if you had not picked them when you were much younger, eh?

The funniest part was that a normal incident that anyone told will be subjected to an extremely wild outrageous imagination, surreptiously flavored with enough spice and will be narrated during the lunch time with so much deliberation, natural flow, and right amount of collateral damage that it sounds completely believable even for the person who narrated it in the first place and after a while everyone ( including the person who narrated it) remembers only the contrived version and not the original one.

One incident I remember dating back to 2005 was the one connecting me and my travel agent. Joe then was in Manila on an assignment and Dennu and I were to join him there for a month long holiday and I was working with this guy named “Salaam” I do not remember his full name or his travel agency’s name. There were a whole lot of issues in my travel because the Filipinos thought I am a potential settler there and were refusing my Visa and I had to interact with Salaam every day. Mind you I have not seen Salaam even once till date. Two of the women friends from the lunch group sit next to me and with the high decibel levels that I speak normally, there is no need for them to eavesdrop at all and after a month’s conversations with Salaam, this topic started surfacing in our lunch meetings – I got royally ragged along with Salaam, whom none of us have seen, and that poor chap was pulled into every conversation and the group came to a conclusion that even if I do not make it to Manila, I have become good enough to write a book titled “Njanum Ente Salaamum” (the title roughly translates to “Me and my Salaam” only that it sounds a little intimate in a regional language), which would easily be a best seller. I never ended up going to Manila, my Visa was rejected finally and we had to settle down for a shorter holiday at Singapore and Malaysia. The group still remembers this book ( see its as though I have written this book) and almost every incident around this after so many years.

There was one person in our group though, who was not very fluent in the regional language and she got lost many times during the conversations that we had, but nevertheless would pick up pieces and tag along with our conversations at right intervals. Sometimes she used to stop us and ask for translations and we realize her inability to follow supersonic speed delivery of regional language dialogues with various connotations from real life, imaginary and from movies and bring her to speed.

Take for incidence a simple conversation that I had with my maid – she was at my flat then. I was instructing her in Tamil to bring down all the curtains and show the tailor, who would come home, for some rework. But later I realized I missed some vital points for my listeners in the next bays. And I was saying “Sulaiman varuvaaru, neenga ellathayum kazhattittu avarukku kaatidunga” which roughly translates to “Sulaiman will come, you remove everything and show him” – I cannot forget how I got blown to shreds for this piece of dialogue thoughtlessly said over phone. The maid understood what I had to say but this group of so called friends indulged in Distortion, disrespect and downright torture. They can be ruthless ( most of the times). And we laughed about it until it actually hurt..

The best part was we had nick names for most people with whom we interacted at office ( other than the group members ourselves) and we were so deft with these names, that anyone else in the room might not even understand the references let alone our sarcasm. We still continue to refer some people with those titles even today, though we do not work with them now.

The dramatization, humor, right references and the accompanied sound effects makes any conversation hilarious. One of the WW ( wicked women) was explaining something she saw at someone’s home or I don’t remember where.. the conversation went like this “ She has big big..” and there was a undue pregnant pause at the wrong moment. The entire group then came forward, all eyes popping out, and in chorus said “ hmm….. big, big whaaaaat” and the person explaining the actual thread of conversation looks very blank at the entire group and says “Ammies” (grindstones). The Chorus then says.. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. We thought something else.. and there was this high pitched laughter…..whole conversation is dissected and references are made which we cannot forget even today.

One character which got crucified in our conversations those days was a person called CSN. He used to sit in the far end of our wing in the same floor as ours and in a cabin. In fact, he had the corner most cabin in our floor and we do not meet him at all. A very senior person both in age and in position.

Being a “women only group” we notify each other of any interesting “Sale ” that happens around town, at the most trivial opportunity we go out for lunches (our office was centrally located close to shopping malls and restaurants then), and we have even gone for a movie once.

A benevolent member of this group announced the sales at “Naidu hall” - NaiHaa as it is called now is famous for its lingerie collection. And there was a particular brand that a couple of them had picked up and was heavily recommended to the others in the group. I was the only one who could not make it to the sales and that day being the last day of the sales had to leave a little early to catch the sales. But as I was going out of my bay I realized I haven’t told my buddies that and I called out to them “ am going to pick Loveable Acoba”, knowing fully well that none sitting in the other bays will make out what it is. The next day’s lunch topic was how even CSN heard about the sale at Naidu hall (thanks to my decibel levels) and he picked up Loveable Acoba for his family. And our group had this special ability to build on imaginary conversations and make it sound so real… See, how people in no way connected to us, get pulled into our conversations and become an integral part of it?

Recently one of the WW happened to meet CSN in a train, and she couldn’t help laughing because the first thing that came to her mind was “Loveable Acoba”. CSN is a senior head within the organisation and he was very “ matter-of- fact” with this friend of ours and was a little suspicious about the overfriendliness of our friend and must be wondering the reason behind her extra dose of smile.

Today as I mentioned we are in different parts of the globe, in different organisations doing very well but can pick up wickedness where we left if only we can set our eyes on each other, with no less sarcasm and fun in all our conversations. We get to meet each other rarely these days, but if we meet it would be ruckus and fully loaded with fun. God save the souls around us then – we are completely oblivious to anything else.

I sent a picture of my session that I conducted recently announcing to my ex-lunch friends about it and look at the instant responses from three of them.. ( It is important to read it with all the background effects explained earlier)

Response 1: Objection your honor…. Naduvulae irukkara oru vella thols mattum unna paakkaamae vaera engayooo moraikkurraar… how dare…. I’m sure you would have taken some penalty from him… correettaaa… (translation of the regional language bit – the one white person in the centre is not looking at you and is staring elsewhere )

Response 2 : How many AICs ( L2 / L1 Heads ) “Bracketed” so far? Pl update the status :-) :-)

Also how dare to take this snap from long shot…..pl. publish another tight close up snap. :-)

Response 3 : Very impressive .... get them closer to you.. Warmer feel !!! :-)))

Needless to say, I had a mighty laugh and this post is a dedication to the wicked Joy of having women friends and the ethereal connect of our minds, pure fun and laughter that we evoke in each other :-) May our tribe increase !!

Footprints of my Soul

If You can hear my footsteps
Long after I cease to walk..
And know I came visiting
Without having to talk…….

If I can feel the smile in your eye
Long after you cease to see
And know you're looking for me..
And sense the fragrance that I know to be you..
Then I know you love as much as I do..

Then is there a need this tale to tell to the whole?
I know you'd follow the Footprints Of My Soul!

P.S:  
I did not write this poem.  It is pulled out of my archives and am unable to give credits to the author as I do not know the author of this poem.

A slice of Insanity

Silence is painful
can be deafening too
at times

But it is the indifference

that does me in

and makes it unbearable

Thoughts run amok

and makes me wonder

if you would feel the same

I wish the mindbridges remained

the way it was

atleast then I wouldn't be lost

It is at times like these

I rerun the events and conversations

and smile like an idiot

purely a slice of my insanity !

Coincidences – Are they lucky Accidents?

What is your take on coincidences? Are they Chance, Luck or Acts of ‘God”? ( now I am involving the big man in.. :-)

One thing is certain about coincidences. The phenomenon fascinates believers and skeptics alike. It's a porthole into one of the most interesting philosophical questions we can ask: Are the events of our lives ultimately objective or subjective? Is there a deeper meaning, an overarching purpose to the universe? Or are we the lucky accidents of evolution, living our precious but brief lives in a fundamentally random world that has only the meaning we choose to give it? Are they easily explained, or so improbable they must signify something?

Whether coincidences are meaningful or not is a mystery. But our talent for noticing and manipulating them is increasingly clear :-). To the mystically inclined, however, coincidence is a synchronicity, the purposeful occurrence of two seemingly unrelated events. Can we simply state that “ It just happened and doesn’t mean a thing” and move on? At tleast in my case I cannot.

To me Coincidences are mysterious, important and I revel in the connections the coincidences tend to bring forth. I do take note of them and I am such a silly sentimental fanatic. Yikes.. but that’s what I am and I am being truthful about it.

Like the friend who is connected to me by the coincidence that I am going to tell you says ( Okay, this friend didn’t tell me all these, I have added some flavor to the views) that coincidences are created by us consciously or subconsciously (mostly) because we want it so bad that we somehow make the coincidences happen and most of the time we don't even know it. The Universe only facilitates these coincidences to happen in our favour. The reason is because the Universe is kind and generous and the universe literally conspires getting everything together to make these coincidences happen. Maybe true !

I have mentioned this in my blog before, that I  have taken up a new position at a new organisation where I have specifically requested for “No Travel” – I have done so much travel in my earlier job and had resisted travel for my own personal reasons. I had no clue that I would be travelling as part of my current work. But there I was travelling to Delhi, out of the blue, to facilitate a program.

I flew into Delhi pretty late, ( thanks to a delayed flight) and I was not keeping very well that night. Infact my headache ( which is recurring these days very too often) was so bad that I puked a couple of times in a meticulously clean hotel room ( of course in the bowl) and didn’t even have the energy to change into my night clothes, let alone notice what a nice room the new organisation had booked me into. My session  went on well  the next day and I realised that I truly enjoyed facilitation of sessions and was grateful for the opportunity.

It must have been the headache and the effect of puking ( yikes, how I hate it!!), I had the continuous feeling of being in flight… floating senselessly even while sitting in the cab travelling towards Delhi Airport on a hot evening. Temperatures there are at 42 degree Celsius around this time. My headache had not completely deserted me – It gave me the panic attacks of returning anytime. I actually had a headache.

I reached the airport and there even before getting into the airport my friend surprised me appearing from nowhere. Again because Delhi is not very familiar to me (unlike a Chennai, Bangalore and Hyd) I had some time at hand and there we were in an uncommon plan, flying to different destinations from the capital but coincidentally together at the airport. Unbeleivable coincindence or a lucky accident?

It was a good time spent – I was amused by the jokes, the funny stuff, the pranks and it was fun to be with someone who you so rarely meet ( or is it unerring and infallible aim for my funny bone?)  and all through this I was floating around lighter, as if I had a peg of alcohol, that light hearted feeling – definitely the effect of my threatening headache and the after effect of my puking last night, which my friend would never agree to :-). 

I  was in this complete senseless stupor, the effect was almost like stuff hitting me at supersonic speeds and I dont sense it all, and before I react to something, ( my response to stimuli was so slow, almost nil), there is something else coming up and you get the general drift?  ( luckily since i was sane and not under the effect of alcohol, I remember everything and I am making a mental note to get back on all those later, to my friend).

All along I was continuously ( at the back of my mind  - imagine already I am in this senseless stupor and no wonder my responses were slow, I was trying to multitask too) wondering what this sort of chance meeting is trying to bring out.  the reason behind the coincidence? Perhaps there is some sort of message for me?. There must be a reason. Or as my friend said is it simply a fact that when u want something all the universe conspires to help you?

I am deeply religious and I remember when I started from Chennai, I saw a message on the rear side of a car just in front of my cab, which read like this, ‘the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore “ Psalms 121:8 and I remember feeling comforted just when I had started the journey to Noida.

And this coincidence was as though God just winked at me while he sent that friend to Delhi Airport.

Thank you Lord for all the small mercies in life. Life, definitely is better with them :-) :-)

My husband and his toys !!!

My better half constantly tries to reinvent himself and carries on with his single most tryst of impressing me constantly with new stuff every now and then or so I would like to believe. Just because he does not read my blog, unless forced upon him, I am aware I cannot write whatever I would like him to do, cleverly masqueraded as stuff that he does for my sake.

Jokes apart, he is definitely a creative person and does come up with stuff that continues to impress me, even if that ( impressing me) is not his intention. Sometimes I feel I am so easy to please .. whatever.

One of the days, this was a couple of years back, my man came up with me to the terrace of our house, claiming to help me, but engaged himself in making a toy that really amused me. I still have this toy with me, fragile now, after drying and the wear & tear of the years gone by and the shifting of our home we did in-between. I will post a couple of shots of this toy that he made in a few minutes from the sheaves of coconut palm that is at a reachable distance from our terrace, though the coconut palm itself belongs to our neighbor.

So, here goes the process of creation of this Cuboid.

Every year on Palm Sunday, most congregations of Christians celebrate Palm Sunday just the Sunday before Easter Sunday. The feast commemorates Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem and Palm Sunday is marked by the distribution of palm leaves to the assembled worshipers at Church. In Syro-Malabar Catholic Church, that we belong to, palm leaves are blessed during Palm Sunday ceremony and a Procession takes place holding the palms.

The palms are brought home and kept till the next year and returned to the church prior to Ash Wednesday. This year after we came back home, my hubby dear overcome by creativity showed his prowess on the poor palms and the result was yet another interesting piece of art and here goes the process of transformation of these palm Sunday blessed palms. ( not to mention, I have preserved them too..)

Mysterious

A poem that I wrote on 14th February 2003. Pulled out from my archives.


Who are you? where are you from?
Are you alive? are you real? Are you an angel ?
or just a figment of my imagination?
Or are you the most beautiful
dream that I have had in years?
Someone I fabricated to fill the void?
To soothe the pain?

You seem to have come out of the blue
leaving me shell shocked
taking me in your stride with ease
swirling me around like a whirlwind
showing me the world in a new light

You brought joy in my life
You made the world look so beautiful
You made my life worth living
and brought a smile to my soul
You made me feel young again
and helped me see the beauty within
to my own surprise.

You made me laugh when my heart was crying
You helped me set new goals when I was dying
You took me dancing when I couldn't take a step
You will never know how you made me feel
or how grateful I am for you in my life!!!

An author – deep down in my friend!

After reading Arundhati’s Roys work, God of small things, am still dazzled that she picked her Bookers prize for her debut novel and that’s the only novel that she has ever written (till date), though she has other kinds of literary works to her credit.

I was reminded about a close friend who has such brilliant linguistic capabalities that if only he starts writing, he would easily be one of the best in the country / globe. Added to his linguistic capabilities are his creative abilities, a good sense of humour, spontaneity and intelligence. Its sheer ignominy that he hasn’t started to write.

I thought of sharing a philosophical piece of his writing that he wrote to me in 2003 as an email, (with absolutely no modifications, not even spelling corrections ) that I still hold as one of my prized possessions.

….There are pleasant breezes now and occasional rains and I love to walk around now here. This is time of year when all the cobwebs get cleared out of our mind - the old brain seems to work better, evrything seems to be in a kind of harmony. I have a partly superstitious belief that things begin to move and stir at times like this and are building towards something. Its like when you follow a stream (I don't know if you've ever done it) trying to see how far it goes (either upstream or downstream) Tiny signs indicate to you when you are close to the source - the water begins to get clearer, the sound is more like a tinkle rather than a splashing, you can see different types of fish and suddenly you are there.

So too I notice tiny signs right now - it all seems to point towards the fact that I am approaching something important - any moment the veil will be drawn back and I will see the road ahead clearly, far more clearly than ever before.

Or like going out to sea in a boat, you leave the shore and waves further and further behind and reach a calm patch, where you can see almost to the bottom, but it happened so gradually you didn't notice ...... and then again, it can just as suddenly look rough, there are huge swells, and you look down and realize you are over a huge rock barrier.

At such times it seems like you are almost in a trance, walking around in the world in a dream, and all the people you meet are just floating by on other boats, and as you pass each other you notice that they are looking at you and you look at them too, in the same way that boats pass each other at sea, and just for a fleeting moment you wonder what kind of journey they are having.

These are things that I think we experience most keenly as children, and it is almost like a magnetic field around you and around everything else - everything emits an energy you can almost feel and touch. It fades away as we grow older and have too many words for everything. But suddenly on certain days or times of year it comes back and magic happens.

I don’t get such emails these days from anyone, let alone this friend, but now that I have blogged I know I can get back anytime to this.

And to imagine if someone can whisk up something like this for an unthoughtful casual email, how well will he do as an author ?

My friend is the author waiting to be one. Don’t you think so?

Weather Report

"Any day I'm vertical

is a good day"

...that's what I always say.

If you ask me,

"How are you?"

I'll answer, "GREAT!"

because in saying so,

I make it so.

When Life gives me dark clouds and rain,

I appreciate the moisture

that brings a soft curl to my hair.

When Life gives me sunshine,

I gratefully turn my face up

to feel its warmth on my cheeks.

When Life brings fog,

I hug my sweater around me

and give thanks for the cool shroud of mystery

that makes the familiar seem different and intriguing.

When Life brings snow,

I dash outside to catch the first flakes on my tongue,

relishing the icy miracle that is a snowflake.

Life's events and experiences

are like the weather -

they come and go,

no matter what my preference.

So, what the heck?!

I might as well decide to enjoy them.

For indeed,

there IS a time for every purpose

under Heaven.

And each season brings its own unique blessings.

~BJ Gallagher

Obsession

My current obsession is Arundhati Roy’s God of small things which won her the Booker Prize in the year 1997 and this was her debut novel.

I call this an obsession because after I started reading this book, Ayemenen, Rahel, Esthappen, Ammu, Velutha, Baby Kochamma, Margaret Kochamma and Kochu Maria are characters I am living with in my memories constantly.

Right from the first paragraph of this book, I fell in love with the eloquence of Roy’s writing and because I belong to a Syrian sect of Christianity and my views about Kerala are not entirely different from that of what is portrayed by Roy, I felt the immediate connect with this semi-autobiographical work of Roy. It lingered on and I spent  three to four nights to complete this amazing work. The Novel tugs at your heartstrings – not sure if it is the sadness, cynicism, shades of Irony that so interestingly portrayed or the mystery shrouding all the characters in the novel that pulled me into this book. I could not just leave this book down. I knew I am missing the finer nuances of the literary play Roy employs with the language itself, but I am a Gemini you see and I need to know what is happening so I did a quick read and completed this book.

And I didn’t want to touch another book for some time. Have u eaten your favorite food? When you finish with it, you wouldn’t want to eat anything else that will spoil the after taste – you may want to linger on it for some more time, enjoying that taste until it finally gets out of your tastebuds. The same thing, I lingered on every character, on every event on the emotions that Rahel and Estha ( the protagonists ) went through and the scheming ways so typical of the Antagonist Margaret Kochamma.

Then decided on something that I have never done in my entire life – I started reading this book again this time savoring every nuance of the literary word play the author employs to conjure up magic with words, enjoying every minute observation that Roy so precisely brings forth through the point of view of a small child, the political, communal disharmonies that so evidently exists in the Gods own country and its absolutely scintillating.

I am enjoying the read – and it feels like I am reading a completely different novel this time and I just cant get enough of the first paragraph that Roy starts this Novel with.. I don’t know the number of times I have read this and got into a trance. That’s this book effect on me, I put the book down and the characters are playing in my mind – Chacko, Vellya Pappen, Kuttappen, Pappachi, Mammachi, Levin and pillai and all of Ayemenem. Pappachi’s moth, the Meenachil river, paradise Pickles and preserves, Sophie mol and the list is endless!

Roy has been able to paint the caste differences of that period and engages a reader throughout with her ploy.  and since this is emi autobiogrpahical you are left to wonder which are those incidents that really happened and which part of this novel is fiction. She throws the dark hints about the novel in the first chapter and unravels the events that leads to the theme of the novel finally in the last chapter where Velutha and Ammu think of only the small things the big things never lurked their conversations and their little promise “Naaley” (meaning tomorrow)

Here is the first para of this novel

“May in Ayemenem is a hot, brooding month. The days are long and humid. The river shrinks and black crows gorge on bright mangoes in still, dustgreen trees. Red bananas ripen. Jackfruits burst. Dissolute bluebottles hum vacuously in the fruity air. Then they stun themselves against clear windowpanes and die, fatly baffled in the sun.”

Isnt it brilliant? I am only wondering why I didn’t read this earlier!

I would like to add a Caveat here though - I do not subscribe to everything that is portrayed in the novel - especially the twist that Roy brings to the Twin's relationship.  It looks perverted.

16 years and a resolution!!!

Today my baby turned 16 years. All of 16 years, of age. I cannot believe 16 years have gone by from the time I held him first in my hands as a tiny little one, fair, with those shriveled reddish hands and feet. He is grown taller than me now but I still call him baby sometimes, much to his dislike especially if it happens to be in public and he tolerates the "baby" calling when we are alone.

The number 1 and number 6 candles on his cake reminded me yet again, I am a mother of a teenager, which I have grown to enjoy and its a pure joy being the mother of a teenager (when he is nice, that is) There are times when he has his bad moods and gives me terrible times, but that’s the deal right - Roses come with thorns.

It all looks so sudden - that he has grown up from the time he held on to me to the time now where he holds me or hugs me rarely and probably only when I demand it. He is infuriated when I accidentally step in to the dressing room when he is changing clothes and demands privacy in his room and ofcourse, he stands atleast a couple of inches taller than me.

I seem to ask myself now - when did he grow up? From that little naughty dynamite that he was when he was young (most elders in my family have at least a couple of horror stories about him being so agile and naughty), to a sober young boy... oops he prefers to be called a young man. In fact, this birthday, as usual, I wanted to pick up his favorite Jeans and T's and he said "I want a formal dress ma". Joe and I are still getting used to our little man in formals... the reason, he says, “for a wedding, I should be in a formal, now on"

There is a resolution my son has taken all of a sudden - is it all of a sudden, as a mom didn’t I see this coming from a very young age? My son has decided to be a vegetarian. Can you beat it? A Syro Malabar Christian, who is expected to eat anything that does not bite him back, ( In fact, my clan eats anything that moves, swims, runs, flies, crawls, slithers or hops) turning up to be a vegetarian !! My parents are shocked out of their wits. They just don’t understand this logic. If this decision of my son had a religious connotation or a sacrificial element probably, probably they might have been able to comprehend - but this, this just does not auger well with the our heritage or upbringing. Looking back I really dont have anyone in my family who has taken this decision. Not in J's family either. No vegetarians, of choice. must be a real shocker for my clan. My mom gave me a look that suggested, is this a way to bring up a boy?

I really loved the reason Dennu (that’s how I call my son mostly, the baby calling is rare) gave for turning into a vegetarian - He said he is not able to bear the cruelty to animals. And if he stops eating these creatures and if he can save even one creature, that will be good. Last Sunday when he announced his decision, I didn’t think he meant it. Though I didn’t say anything, in my mind I thought, if he lays his eyes on some non-veg food, his decision will change.

He proved me wrong - We had been out to a mall to pick some books (part of his birthday present) and went to the food court there. My health conscious husband took us to subway and Dennu had to choose. His choice is always between chicken salami or Tuna. This time he said a veg sub and I blurted out to him, so you are serious about being a vegetarian and he told me matter of factly “Yes Ma" and I told him, but you love tuna. His response to that just stumped ne - Yeah I love Tuna, but I love Mother Nature even more.

You know there are certain stuff that melts moms - like when I am doing some physical activity like cleaning at home, and Dennu would walk up to me and ask, Ma you want me to help you? and I melt like butter on a hot saucepan. He offers to bring my laptop bag to the car when I start for my job and I melt like Ice-cream on a tongue. This time I guess I vanished with a loud pop!

I had expected this from him - when he was barely 4, and we had moved into our new tiny apartment. He was particular about the bathrooms being clean. A wisp of my hair or some dirt on the floor, and he would not step in. On a hot afternoon, I guess it was a Saturday, he must have come back from playing, quite dirty and I decided to give him a bath. The bath almost getting over, I watched a small cockroach coming out of the drain, a really small one. I didn’t want him to step out of the bath looking at the cockroach and I thought he wasn’t noticing me; I swished that little roach with my feet and realized he saw it, just at the right moment.

And he started - Mamma, why did you kill that baby cockroach? Wont the Mamma cockroach be waiting for the baby cockroach? If I have to go out and not return how will you feel? Initially, remember the Mamma melting moments? - I did have one of those. But that was just the beginning... later, he persisted on this questioning minute after minute - I gave all kinds of explanations and he was not pacified. The ranting became crying and my melting became frustration and I remember cursing myself for killing that baby cockroach. He went on for almost about 3 hours about the baby cockroach and could be pacified only by Joe. Over a period of time, the mamma and baby cockroach has become a story we laugh about - Joe and I have not forgotten it.

Once when the AC at home in the same tiny flat, was taken out for a repair, the mechanic sent with the AC, a little rat (apparently as a bonus) without his or our knowledge. Luckily, I always had the habit of closing all the doors and the little rat was trapped inside the bedroom. Every evening when we returned from work, I saw the wood being gnawed and was wondering where this came from. It sure was the door, but we were wondering what caused the wood to come down into such nice scraps... we were astonished when this rat attacked our washing machine and started gnawing at the rubber parts of our IFB. Then we set a trap and we got the little fellow. Actually a cute rat. My husband, a very practical man suggested that we kill the rat; otherwise it might come back... Dennu heard this and he started begging, pleading and crying as if we told that we were going to kill him... and he made sure we went elsewhere and let that rat free in an open space.

My mom has told me a couple of times, that at my parents place when he used to spend his summer vacation, similar stuff has happened. Once my brother brought home a live fish (he was so happy he could get that variety of fish live) and he had allowed my son to play with it for some time. When lunch time came and my mom wanted to prepare the fish curry, he had refused to kill it. Remember I told you my clan eats anything that runs, flies, swims, slithers crawls or hops? So that particular day they had to sacrifice the fish curry. But the next day, they cleverly took him someplace when my mom completed the job neatly. The curry was served for lunch and my little one, probably all of 9 years old, sensing something fishy, demanded that he see the live fish, which my parents or my brother could not manage to bring to life, of course it was dead in a lovely Fish curry in trichur style, and Dennu refused to eat lunch that day and was angry with my mom for an entire week for killing his friendly fish.

So this was coming, becoming a vegetarian for the love of animals, and I guess probably a little late. In fact, he wanted only veg fried rice or noodles tonight for dinner and not any non-vegetarian food. If it is his decision, so be it. :-) I am a proud mom.

Its been a great journey the last 16 years with him, he made me a mother, and made me fulfill the deepest need in any woman - to mother a child and be part of god’s creation. No one called me a Mom, Mamma or Ma, until he did and in my case, no one else has. And to that, for making me a mother, and making me put my priorities in place, I am ever grateful.

His giggles have cast away many a worries from my life, his laughter has brought in sunshine and his pranks have made me smile, when the burdens of life, marriage and motherhood bogged me down and today for the memories of all those yesterdays, I am ever grateful.

I am so glad you are in my life and nothing else matters to me as long as I see that smile on your face and happiness in your soul. May God bless you and keep you in the palm of his hands. God bless!!

P.S:

Our families (mine and Joe's) have yet another shocker coming their way. My husband formally announced that he has also turned Vegetarian. My son and husband's decision are mutually exclusive and their reasons for being vegetarians differ. :-) I am still weighing my options. I can’t give up seafood sob... sob...