And it still exists

 Love it...was just wanting to see my Fudge and so tried to login today....and I still can 

Deepavali bonus

She’s hoped, dreamed, planned and plotted all this year just so they can both land up at home in Chennai and surprise the family – by their sudden, joint visit on Deepavali day!

She’d saved up leave and money and booked heavily discounted airline seats. And here’s the hardest thing she had to do – work on and finally convince younger sibling Ananya, the more stolid and less excitable one (chalk to her cheese) into falling in with her plans. So then, why would she want to kill the surprise by letting the family know in advance of their trip, no matter what Ananya says?

Thankfully though, now, at the airport, Ananya doesn’t pursue this line of conversation. She busies herself by ordering a coffee and lamington. “I prefer to wait for authentic Indian sweets”, she says firmly and rather haughtily, pushing the plate away as Ananya waves it temptingly under her nose. “You can get Indian sweets even in the shops here, you know,” says Ananya reasonably, but she pretends not to hear. She doesn’t want to hear!

****

Having already been through two flights across multiple time zones, normally, the last leg of the journey is the most tiresome. But not today. She whiles away the time by letting her imagination run riot down memory lane….

Although it’s been 10 years since she was home for Deepavali, she can almost smell the pungent, chemical odours of the firecrackers, see the hazy fog that seems to prevail in the city on Deepavali day. She can feel the anticipation that starts days in advance, when people start bursting firecrackers, buying new clothes…all the Deepavali preparations. And then finally, the early morning wake-up on D(eepavali)-day (that is if they were lucky enough to sleep!!) What with firecrackers going off all night and having to get up at the crack of dawn for the traditional bath, sleep has never been big on the Deepavali day list. And then, of course the food, without which no Indian festival is complete.  Sweets dripping ghee and sugar, garnished generously with fried almonds and cashews, scented with cardamom, saffron and the best spices. The crisp fried savouries that melted in your mouth! She practically salivated at the very thought…..surely all the time and work she’d put in to making this trip happen was worth it.

****

She can barely sit still during the short tax ride home! But even as they were turning into their street, she starts to deflate slowly. The smoky haze is still absent as far as she can see (something that she had subconsciously noticed during the entire tax ride, but which she acknowledges only now). She can hear just the odd firecracker going off in the distance.  Given that it is Deepavli morning, surely, there should be more action than this?

Then finally, they were home! She knockss on the door, stepping smartly over the elegantly drawn, traditional kolam at the entrance. Dad opens the door and starts in surprise: “See who’s here…”

*****

“What do you mean, there are no sweets at home? And where are the firecrackers? Even if you’re all too old, why isn’t anyone else in the apartment building or our street letting off any?” she demands rather rudely, glaring at mom and grandmother, hardly half an hour later. The pleasure of the sudden homecoming has already been diluted.

“Oh, child labour and pollution”, dad says, sauntering over to her. She gapes at him.

“Well, the fire cracker manufacturers were using child labour to make them and bursting them does create pollution, so this year, we, the educated middle-class have boycotted them”, he says with a touch of quiet pride.

 “Besides, there are so many special Deepavali day programmes on TV that you can happily watch them all day long without wanting to do these other things,” chimes in mom.

“Well, what about the sweets then? Eating them is definitely my own business…!”

“Oh, Dad’s cholesterol levels are high. And your grandparents have diabetes so, this year, we decided that we wouldn’t make any”, mumbles mum, already foreseeing and dreading her temper tantrum. “Of course, if only we had known you both were coming…but don’t worry, we can run down to the shops and get some, nowadays, they are as good as the ones we make at home…And I am sure we can get some new clothes for you.” 

Ananya says in a very expressionless voice: “And don’t forget, the sweets are full of sugar and calories, whether they are home-made or bought at the shops. Even if they are made in India”!

Ah Deepavali! Is there anything else left of it?

 “Well, come on, come on, the traditional baths aren’t good for our sinus problems, so we’ve skipped it. But you don’t have to”, says mum in a placating voice.

So this is what she travelled across two continents for. At least, she thinks, I am with family on Deepavali day, surely, that is surely the most important thing.

But she knows she will have to work on Ananya, possibly for the rest of my life, to regain lost credibility and authority…and that she may never be successful.

The power of 10

True, there was so much to admire in Odisha. Konark and Puri were magnificent and seeing them had been a dream come true. Nature and some fascinating history  (think Samrat Ashoka) too. But the general air of dirt, neglect and backwardness were a bit overwhelming and diluted the delight. Being an NRI had very little to do with it. Maybe, having grown up in a more developed part of the subcontinent had more to do with it.

Whatever the reason, she wasn’t very sad to leave Bhubaneshwar for the more cosmopolitan delights of Kolkata.

Now, she was at the train station trying to keep pace with the wiry porter who would deposit her luggage at the right place on the Kolkata train. An uncle, who could speak Oriya, but had to be next to the Chennai train to upload other family members, had fixed the rate with the porter and then told her, “You need to pay him Rs 30, and he will put you on the Kolkata train, so just go with him.”

So she did. After what seemed to be a fairly long time and distance traversing a few flights of stairs, they reached the correct platform. The train to Kolkata originated at Puri and would reach Bhubaneshwar station in a few minutes. But it would halt there for just about 5 to 10 minutes. So, feeling queasy at the thought of pushing her way into a crowded train carriage, while jostling with all the others who wanted to do exactly the same thing, she waited restlessly, walking up and down the platform.

The train thundered in shortly afterwards and the porter was immediately at her side with the luggage. They started speed walking towards her compartment. She hurriedly jumped in and started looking at seat numbers. Horrors, her seat was already occupied. The porter had already lowered her luggage to the ground. 

Then she found out that this wasn’t the correct compartment. Her one was still a few more bogies away. Bracing herself for a verbal onslaught, she informed the porter (via broken Hindi and vigorous gestures), that they had to search for her compartment as this wasn’t the right one.

But there was no onslaught. He just picked up the luggage and started walking at a furious pace. She understood that he was almost as scared as she was that the train would depart any minute.

Thankfully, they reached her compartment - and she found that her seat was vacant too. She heaved a sigh of relief. The porter unloaded the luggage, propping it under her seat.

She opened her wallet and then paused briefly. Rs 30 seemed too less to pay him, never mind what the uncle had said. The platform had been a long way off. And any porter who didn’t grumble about a wrong compartment and use that as a lever to higher earnings surely deserved more. She pulled out all the small notes in her wallet, and it came to Rs 40. She pushed the jumble of notes into his hand. He namaste’d her and went away.

She heaved a sigh of relief. No altercation with the porter. She was in her right seat and Kolkata was only a night away. She prepared to relax, waiting in anticipation.

But – the porter was back. He was waving the wad of notes she had given him. What now, she wondered. He hadn’t asked for anything, surely, he should be happy with she had paid him?

 The train tooted briefly and started inching its way out of Bhubaneshwar.

She didn’t know Oriya, that was true. But she understood what the porter was saying anyway. “The rate we fixed was only Rs 30, madam, you’ve given me ten more. Here is your Rs 10”.

Puri Jagannath,the Konark Sun temple and the power of ten - enduring thoughts that would from now on epitomise the essence of Odisha for her.

Tag - you're it

My set of 11 questions from Shyam.

1. Which city did you visit during your first visit abroad?

Easy, Wellington. Although we had to first land in Christchurch, and then Auckland (due to bad weather), before finally arriving in Wlg,

2. What was your first impression of it?

Clean, green, empty and WINDY!

3. Your most favourite mode of transportation, and your least?

No real preferences. But probably the answer to both would be airplanes. Love them for the convenience and speed, and hate them for everything else.

4. If you could ask God one question, what would it be?

Why not me?

5. Good or bad, what memory from your childhood stands out the most in your mind?

The night my Dad died.

6. Do you like soft pillows or firm ones?

Firm

7. Did you like school?

Overall, yes. But not always.

8. What would you tell your least favourite teacher, if you were to meet him/her
now?

English teacher, whom we nicknamed Teddy. It was bad enough that she used to give her favourites good grades, but it was worse that she would mark some of the good students down, if they were not her favourites. As you can guess, I wasn’t. I would like to tell her that she almost ruined my future and career because of her partiality. Thankfully, I am pretty resilient.

9. Do you like your name? If not, what name would you give yourself?

Used to hate it intensely, as it was so common and old-fashioned, but not any more.

10. Your opinion of fund-raising balls/parties/dinners organised for/by
celebrities?

Waste of time: theirs and mine.

and finally

11. Got any advice for me? :)

None, because you were always wiser than me:-)

And here’s my set of questions for you, Shyam and Umm. I don’t want you two to play the game again, as you’ve already been there and done that. But just to humour me, answer my lot, please:-)

Shyam, Umm
1. Who is the guy who makes you go ‘what a hunk’ today?
2. The last book you read completely?
3. Will Akhilesh Yadav make or break UP?
4. What comes to mind when I say NZ?
5. It’s just not done to talk in Tamil in all the happening’ places in Chennai nowdays. Cool or uncool? And why?
6. Would you ever go back to live permanently in India? Why/why not?
7. Do you believe in global warming? It is just part of the Earth’s routine cycle of climate change or is it man made?
8. If you think it would make a difference to global warming, would you turn vegan?
9. What would you spend on a million bucks on, without regretting it?
10. What is your favourite perfume?
11. What is the one thing that always makes you happy?

Star gazing

There are many other worse things that I could do. But not too many.

I have been guilty of using most of my blog writing, Fb viewing and other pursuits’ time for watching Hindi serials on Star Plus.

Yes, I admit it. Publicly. Can this be the same person who used to scorn daily serials and rage at reality shows? This is still me. But how have I changed so much?

I don’t know. But it might have something to do with the fact that the shows nowadays are a far cry from the pathetic offerings that were being dished out a few years ago on DD, before I left India, ie, 1990s.

The ones nowadays are almost always well-written and extremely well-presented. They are the movies of the small screen – they have the grandeur and maturity that was so far associated only with full-length feature films. Exotic locales, great costumes and sets, authentic (although only Hindi) accents, lovely large families that celebrate all the Hindu festivals, good strong characters played by talented actors and even dishum-dishum.

So, it’s not surprising that I am trying to assuage my pangs of homesickness or movie-sickness with Star Plus.

Of course, not all the serials or shows are great. The reality shows, although very well presented, will still be reality shows, ie, totally fake. And there will always be serials where the only focus is the maamiyar-marumagal (or to give it the Hindi equivalent of saas-bahu) relationship and both the storyline and characters are more negative and stereotyped than required.

But I give these a wide berth.

And then, there are also the serials that change tack mid-way. From perfect watchable ones, they suddenly become completely unbearable. The characters become flawed, weakened and unbelievable. I switch off.

Earlier, not knowing Hindi could have been a possible drawback (not for me, though). But now, there are sub-titles for all the shows, full of horrible translations, grammatical errors and wrongly spelt names (eg, ‘Sudha bhabhi’ becomes ‘sister-in-law Sudha’ , Akshara is Aksha, etc*shudder*) . Even so, good enough to let you know what is happening.

My only grouse is that Star gazing takes up too much precious time and leaves me with next to no time for my other activities, as I’ve already said.

So what do I do? Of course, being a woman, I multitask (*sigh of relief* at least I have that choice). Fb + StarPlus or housework + Star Plus or Skype + Star Plus and sometimes even reading + Star Plus.

There aren’t possibly many other worse things that I could do to while away my non-existent free time. But at least, I am relaxed doing this.

I almost shed tears of joy when Akshara’s saas praises her. I hold back my tears when Khushi shivers in the cold, while doing her arrogant boss’s bidding. But since I know that they are going to fall in love with each other, I forgive him. I pity Devyani, who has to hide the secret that her son is gay, from her philandering husband. etc etc.

Aaaah, show me an Indian who doesn’t love a spicy sentimental story, and I will show you a freak!

A literary irony

One of life’s little ironies. My life’s little ironies.
I was born and brought up in Tamil Nadu, in a Tamil speaking family. But strangely, possibly due to a combination of circumstances, while growing up I had minimal exposure to Tamil history, classics etc.
While my family did their bit to fill their gaps, I grew up to be a very slow reader and writer of the language, as I did hardly 5 years of study in it. What I missed almost completely was Tamil Literature.
While cousins who were into it tried often to tempt me into reading some novel that had impressed them, I baulked, mostly because the speed at which I read Tamil would have meant that it would take me AGES (and that’s no exaggeration – I used to take about 15 minutes to read one page of printed Tamil) to finish any of those bulky tomes that they favoured.
I remember making only one exception: it was a book called Nainda Ullam by Anuthama. Although completing it was a laborious process, I did it for two reasons: it was recommended by a favourite sister and once I started reading it, I liked it, so wanted to read more.
Either way, after that (sometime when I was in school), I read hardly anything in Tamil apart from the barest minimum.
After my graduation and journalism course, work in an English newspaper surprisingly, brought Tamil back into my life. Translating press releases from the state government (ie, crap) into English had one benefit. It re-familiarised me with reading Tamil again. And since then, I’ve somehow or the other managed to keep myself fairly upto speed with Tamil. After moving to NZ, I’ve made a conscious effort to do this.
Now, getting to the purpose of this whole rambling post: one of the novels which I kept hearing people talking about but had never read was a novel of epic proportions, called ‘Ponniyin Selvan’. I don’t know why, but the name has always fascinated me. When I was younger, I didn’t know that Ponni was another name for the Kaveri or that Ponniyin Selvan was how people referred to Raja Raja Cholan (shocking I know, but I am telling it like it is). But there was something almost mystical about the title of the book.
To cut a long ramble short, I seldom had the opportunity to read this epic and on the rare occasions that I did, the sheer size put me off (2400 pages, divvied up into 5 volumes). Up until now.
But after all that, I am finally reading this novel now. In NZ (oh, another irony for sure). I’ve finished four chapters. The wealth of history in the novel is staggering. The characters it describes are inspiring.
And while I am sure I don’t know how long it will take me to finish all five volumes, I know that this time, I will. All good things take time.

Aaaargh, I may as well be dead for all the writing I've been doing lately on my blog. Fb is one culprit, but not the only one...

The ultimate accolade

My teenager is taking me to the movies tonight.

Not just any movie: we’re going for ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1'.

Not just with anyone: with my teenager and her friends.

Why? Because, apparently, I am ‘cool’ enough!

Paper cuts

I’d never heard of these when I was in India.
I’ve never quite gotten rid of them since I came to NZ – the latest one, 20 minutes ago.

More on Aish

Ok, no one can ever say that I am not fair. I’ve just seen Aish on a talk show and a reality show and I have to say that she isn’t half bad in them. And I feel guilty at having been so bitchy about her in my last post. So let me say now, that I could even get to like her at the end of my nth janmam.

It’s only in movies that her cruelty to me and my ilk is intolerable. Movies mean more than 2 hours of Aish trying to act, all the while trying to emote while just managing to hold off the smirk of being ulaga azhagi.

So I’ve decided. No more Aish movies for me anymore, even if they are as hyped up as Endhiran. And from what I hear, that may not be too hard for me to manage in future. Apparently she’s preggers. Who know, she may have triplets and become such a devoted mom that she won’t have any more time to act. One can only hope….

How much do I hate Aish? Let me count the ways...

I know, and have known for a while now that Aish is definitely past her best-by date.
Seeing two Aish movies (Endhiran and Raavanan) almost back to back only re-confirmed it for me.

But this post isn’t just about Aish being past her best-by date. There’s no big deal in that. I can think of plenty of other actresses and actors who are post their best-by date, but are holding on like grim death.

What I can’t figure out is why watching Aish on screen is such an excruciatingly painful experience. It was never easy, but it only seems to be getting worse with time.

I think this has nothing to do with how old she looks. It has everything to do with what sort of an actress she is. And she isn’t a good one – yet (am being charitable here - I added 'good' to my original sentence).

While she couldn’t act for toffee from Day 1, she managed then because most of her early roles were ‘running around the trees’ and ‘looking too good to be true’ roles. But, I have never been able even stomach her, leave alone take her seriously, from the minute she started taking up roles that required serious acting.

And that, I think, is because, she lacks ‘X’ – the quality that the greats have, which makes you, the audience, forget that you are only watching a movie.

Okay, let’s be generous here – very, very few people have that ‘X’ – so it may not be fair to expect her to have it. But even in the group of second-raters, why does she stick out like a sore thumb?

Maybe its because she gives the impression of being too conscious of her status as ‘ulaga azhagi’. Even if she is running off a cliff or being tied up like a dog, this unfortunately comes through. You feel no sympathy for the character she is playing – rather, all you feel is irritation at how vapid she appears. I actually wanted to smack her.

Although this comes too late in the day, I think she should have stuck to modelling, where she could have easily hidden her acting flaws and capitalised on her ex ‘too-good to be true’ looks. Unfortunately for me and my ilk, she chose acting....

But not even that any more though. Her face looks like the desi version of Pamela Anderson now – and if you don’t believe me, just google the internet to see before and after versions. Here’s just one link to help you out. Even when she is in the middle of the jungle in Raavanan, she still manages to look plastic. Eeeks. What really bothers me is why directors still run behind her.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system (phew, thankfully – I can tell you its been simmering in there for a while – I hate that woman for messing up my Endhiran experience), what do you think it is that drives people in equal lots to the Hate Aish and Love Aish clubs? What is it for you? The "I think Plastic Ash is fantastic' queue is to the left, while the eco-friendly, sane ones can line up behind me.

CWG Delhi

Aaah, the Delhi CWG have made me an athlete/gymnast.

When I see colleagues coming towards me to ask why we messed up so badly, I run in the opposite direction.

When I am not successful in running away, I squirm and writhe fluidly with the shame of being labelled, not an Indian, but by being lumped with those Indians (and even Pakistanis) like Suresh Kalmadi, Lalit Bhanot, and the zillion others who have dirtied India Shining, thanks to the CWG exposes.

The daily dose gets dirtier as the days pass by.

No one here sees mera Bharat as mahaan. How can they? They only see Bharat as the land of stench & corruption. Bharat the beggar, who cannot, will not, do any better, tied up as she is, in the unbreakable shackles of her corrupt leaders, inept systems and helpless people. And I cannot explain this away. I lack both the words and the conviction. I don't want to explain this away!

I am proud to be Indian, but not of this India. My India, somewhere, maybe in a parallel universe, still lives.

Ten to one..

Ten hows:
1. How did you get one of your scars? I have none.
2. How did you celebrate your last birthday? I didn’t.
3. How are you feeling at this moment? Pretty good – it’s a Friday.
4. How did your night go last night? OK
5. How did you do in high school? Comme ci comme ca
6. How did you get the shirt you’re wearing? Got it as a gift from the Queen!
7. How often do you see your best friend(s)? A LOT less often than I'd like to.
8. How much money did you spend last month? More than I really wanted to.
9. How old do you want to be when you get married? Just right
10. How old will you be at your next birthday? A year older than what I was last year.

Nine whats:
1. Your mother's name? Amma
2. What did you do last weekend?
Sat: Listened to Gyaneshwari discourse, got little one ready for dance class, made a garland, went to temple, listened to abhangs, housework and puja for Ganesha as it was Ganesha Charuthi. And overall spent time with the kids.
Sun: Listened to Gyaneshwari discourse, housework, went to temple, listened to abhangs, And overall spent time with the kids.
Last weekend was special though – the discourse/abhang bit doesn’t happen often in Wlg.
3. What is the most important part of your life? All of them.
4. What would you rather be? Be rich enough and responsible enough to make the world and my mind a better place.
5. What did you last cry over? Not telling.
6. What always makes you feel better when you’re upset? Myself & my friends
7. What’s the most important thing you look for in a significant other? A sense of humour.
8. What are you worried about? Worrying too much.
9. What did you have for breakfast? Curry puffs

Eight yous:

1. Have you ever liked someone who had a girlfriend/boyfriend? ??
2. Have you ever had your heart broken? Not really.
3. Have you ever been out of the country? Which country?
4. Have you ever done something outrageously dumb? Too many incidents to recount
5. Have you ever been back stabbed by a friend? Friends – no. Relatives who I thought I was friends with: yes.
6. Have you ever been seriously ill? Nope, not yet - give me some time though!
7. Have you ever dated someone younger than you? Stop being so nosy!
8. Have you ever read an entire book in one day? Of course.

Seven whos:
1. Who was the last person you saw? Someone I didn’t want to see
2. Who was the last person you texted? Dana
3. Who was the last person you hung out with? My family and friends in Wlg
4. Who was the last person to call you? To call me what?
5. Who did you last hug? My baby.
6. Who is the last person who texted you? Dana.
7. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? X

Six wheres:
1. Where does your best friend(s) live? All over the world. Chennai, UK, NZ and more.
2. Where did you last go? To work.
3. Where did you last hang out? The washing on the line.
4. Where do you go to school? I don't.
5. Where is your favourite place to be? With family and friends.
6. Where did you sleep last night? At home.

Five dos:
1. Do you think anyone likes you? Yes, Thank God!
2. Do you ever wish you were someone else? Not often.
3. Do you know the muffin man? Nope.
4. Does the future scare you? Nope. The present is scary enough.
5. Do your parents know about your blog? Yup.

Four whys:
1. Why are you best friends with your best friend? She's always there for me, even if we are continents, natures and time zones apart.
2. Why did you get into blogging? To keep in touch with writing and myself.
3. Why did your parents give you the name you have? A granmother’s name shared between two grand-daughters. So my cousin got the first half and I got the second half.
4. Why are you doing this survey? Chumma, just like that.

Three ifs:
1. If you could have one super power what would it be? To make the world a happier, fairer place
2. If you could go back in time and change one thing, would you? Yes.
3. If you were stranded on a deserted island and could bring 1 thing, what would you bring? I honestly don’t know.

Two would you evers:
1. Would you ever get back together with any of your ex’s if they asked you? What ex?
2. Would you ever shave your head to save someone you love? For sure. But if they loved me, they wouldn’t ask me to!

One last question:
1. Are you happy with your life right now? Yep.

Aaah-mir Khan

Reading Shyam’s post on George Michael brought back so many memories of college days and the unlimited jollu-ing that was part of life then.

While we loved our firangis then, we also loved our desis just as much. Of course desis and firangis may come and go and they did (George Michael was one of themJ). But did any of them stay the favourite forever – or at least, as close to forever, which means till now, when I am twice as old as what I was then?

I racked my brains (yes, really had to) to think of who has been a constant favourite since my college days.In fact, the first and the only name that came to mind with the accompaniment of a resounding YES was Aamir Khan. There wasn’t even a close second after him.

Initially of course, I liked him for being the cutie in QS QTJ and many other movies. He was perfectly drool-worthy. Even during the times when I was ‘off’ movies, I’d make it a point to see his films (how did he continue to keep looking so young, damn it!). The last movie of his that I saw (with my best friend from college and fellow joller) before I left India, was Sarfarosh. I loved it, especially the patriotic thread that ran through the movie.

Then, after I reached NZ, there was a break – he didn’t seem to be doing any movies. What was he doing? Till Lagaan happened. And ever since then, he stopped being just another pretty face in Bollywood. And became much more.

How many other stars of his calibre and with his status would have dared to do Lagaan, at a time when to do so would have been career suicide. But now we know that was a huge hit. And then he followed on with movies like Mangal Pandey (although patriotism had become hip by the time MP came out) and Dil Chahata Hai. And then in the last few years, it’s just been a case of the best getting better.

Rang De Basanti - playing the eternal college goer at 40 and being able to carry it off. And doing only one movie in three years? And again, that patriotic streak (psyching other Khans into doing patriotism too).

And I can’t think of a single superstar in Mumbai who would have dared to produce/act in a movie like TZP? A movie on kids with learning difficulties – made so sensitively, it touched our hearts. And having been gutsy and visionary enough to do that, how did that man make it a commercial hit too? Beats me.

Then, of course, came Ghajini, and then 3 Idiots. ‘nuff said.

When we have our stars, both from Bollywood and cricket, endorsing everything from underwear to outer space, he’s someone who has chosen to do minimal endorsements. And said no to being waxed at Tussaud’s ( I seem to remember this, but not sure:-)! And doesn’t mind taking a stand on politically sensitive issues. And all the while still being commercially viable and bit of a marketing genius and selling his stuff, even the unorthodox ones like TZP and Peepli Live. I mean, the stuff was great in the first place. But you still need good marketing to sell it well.

And for keeping up too - blogging and twittering and what not. Beauty, with brains! What more can one ask for?

Do I sound prejudiced? Of course, I do, because I am. And I for one, will be rooting for Dhobi Ghat, Delhi Belly and whatever else Aamir comes up with.

THE BALL

Inspired by and dedicated to my big N:-)she is a good girl

The ball, the ball, the ball
We've been hearing about it since last Fall!

Where to look, what to buy, what to wear
And what to do with that thick black hair.

The long and the short of the ball gown
What colour should it be – pink or brown?

The moaning, the whingeing and endless texting
The decisions have to be made NOW, no resting.

Buying the make-up, the accessories,
While not forgetting other necessaries.

Working to a budget that might be shoe string
Still buying as much as that money can bring

Comparing notes with friends, all anger vented
While driving the parents almost demented.

It’s here. The big day finally dawns
Weekend it may be, but today no yawns,

Off to get the hair set in a classy top knot
Back with Mum for make-up, thanks a lot.

Then the ball: dancing,laughing with all the mates
Entirely happy since the photos have come out great

At the end, getting Dad to do the chauffeur rounds
Happily eating, for now she can put back on the pounds.

The ball, the ball, the ball
Finally, it is now all over, come this Fall!

(Quiet sigh of relief)

Wellington winter day

Seagulls at Petone beach (right opposite my office building)

Petone pier

Eastbourne on the hills

Wellington CBD from across the bay

The ferry coming in from Picton

Loving it:-)

How can you not?

At work.
Out of the blue, I am seized by a sudden and powerful longing to be back home, a violent wave of homesickness.
Why, after 11 years away?
Why, when I’ve just gotten back after a long holiday in India?
Why, when I am the object of envy among all my friends, not just for living abroad, but for living in clean and green NZ?
Why, when we have friends, a life and much more here?
Why, when even our family back in India says: “What are you coming back here for?”

Never too early to start

Last night, out of the blue, little N (who is all of 7 years old) said: Amma, I am sad, because K is not my friend any more (K is another girl in her class).

Why, what happened? I asked.

K said she won’t invite me over for her play day at home, said little N, looking sad.

Why did she say that, N, I asked.

Well, she said I am too Indian and that means I am too boring. So, she said she doesn’t want Indian people in her group any more, said little N, shocking me into complete silence for half-a-minute.

Well, if that isn’t one of the saddest things I’ve heard of in recent times, I then don’t know what is….

But there is something even sadder (and scarier). K is an Indian.

Of sulky teens and sambar

My absence over 6 weeks when I was in India, actually made our solo teenager stalk the kitchen. Not just to rummage through the pantry to devour anything edible that didn’t need further processing, but to actually do the processing herself – ie, cooking.

Just thought I’d mention that, because her proud dad S actually told his mom (ie, my MIL) that N made sambar that was as good as what her mom (ie, moi) makes. S being S, won’t ever say that to my face:-)

*sob* My sulky teenager is finally qualified enough to be called a SIndianBrahm…in NZ! All my 18 years of nurturing her (including the time she spent in my then gigantic tummy) hasn’t been wasted after all. What more could a mom want?

Foodstalgia

Every time I go to India, I go with an avowed aim of eating certain types of foods at certain places. At home, of course and in some specific restaurants such as Saravana Bhavan in Chennai, Utsav in Hyd etc.

This time, though, I had not planned on any such thing. There wasn’t any time to plan any of it. So off I went with little N.

And turns out that I’ve never eaten out as much as I have on this trip. Nor have I eaten so many different dishes in any of my other Indian trips. Thanks to all the travel I did within the country in the nearly 6 weeks I was there. The travel is also probably the reason why my NZ weighing scales tell me I haven't put on any weight in spite of so much intake. Needless to add, have not lost even a gram either:-)

In Tamil Nadu: I was heading down south, Tiruchi, Rameshwaram, Karaikudi, Srivilliputhur, Madurai and finally Thiruvannamalai. So, beautiful idlis for breakfast, massive traditional rice spreads for lunches and lovely palakaram varieties for dinner. All served on vaazhai ilais.

And a couple of Mexican dishes I had in Tex Mex and also at Veg Nation. And of course, no Chennai visit is complete without a meal at the ubiquitous Saravana Bhavan.

Only grouse: It was almost impossible to find filter kaapi for love or money in Madurai after 6 pm.

And even when I was not travelling, got to eat palaa pazham (jack fruit), maam pazham, sapotta (chiku), maangai (raw mango). Not bad at all.

In Andhra: Stayed only two days here. So did not manage to find any traditional Andhra food. But did some traditional shopping here with P:-)

In Maharashtra: Travelled almost every day – Kolhapur, Pandarpur and Shirdi. This meant a lot of different dishes. Kanda poha (owl uppuma), sabudhana kichidi, sabudhana vadas, ganna ras (sugarcane juice), alphonso mangoes, missal, and Chitale Bandhu mithaiwala treats like Bakarwadi, shankar pali, ambe burfi and chivda. And dhoklas at an auntie’s house.

In Uttarakhand: The best and hottest alu paranthas straight from the tawa at various roadside dhabas, eaten with pickle and dahi for breakfast. A first for me. Then pannier dishes, dum aloo, rotis, pulaus, phulkas, samosas, jilebis etc throughout the day when we were in Joshimath. Meetha paan too.

In DDN, Indian cooked breakfasts like pongal, puri, idlis, etc at home. Rossogollas and petha from the shops.

In Delhi: Spent just half a day at a relative’s place. But got Punjabi chole and gobhi curry as well as kantola-potato curry – the first time I’ve eaten that – all served with piping hot puris, that were being made fresh.

Not to forget the vethal kozhambu, rasam, koottu and usual homely varieties of TamBrahm S.Indian food that I ate throughout my trip………and the endless cups of coffee in S.India and chai in N.India.

And the gallons of Mazaas, Nimbooz, Slice, etc that we consumed during our stay there, just to keep cool. As well as elaneers (tender coconut water) and iced teas.

I admit I am nostalgic…I am trying not to think of the couple of unpleasant days I had with a Delhi-like belly. But even then, it was so worth it. And best of all, I had to cook/make none of these – I only had to eat.

But that was then (last week).

This is now (today): day-before’s leftover pulau and yesterday’s leftover dhal for dinner tonight.

How much life can change in a week!

Happy Mother’s Day everyone (Sunday, May 9)!