Assorted

Its one of those days you know, your mind is so full of thoughts, all varied and mixed and you just want to vent them out because really, you want something new to think about.

You don’t?

Oh well, must be only me then

Anyhow, so one of the things I was wondering about was ….why do schools ask pre-schoolers to get project charts when it is immensely clear that the kids have no hand in making them in the first place? What kind of pleasure do the teachers get out of making parents feel like a school kid all over again? I thought I had left that life far far behind…..alas, it comes a rude shock when I  have to prepare a chart on “Taste Buds on our Tongue” for Shobby one week and “Lifecycle of a Butterfly” for Lui the next. It doesn’t help that their diaries say that the said chart has to be sent ‘tomorrow’.  Reaching home late from office, imagine my plight as I rush to buy the supplies and then spend hours preparing them charts, that is , after feeding the kids, having dinner, ironing their clothes and mine for the next day and giving the kids their milk and putting them to sleep. Since I reach home around 8:30 pm, guess what time I finally finish those charts?

Anyhow, have a look at the fruits of my labor from last week :-

For a midnight effort, it isn’t bad, but it could have been better if I had more time

PS: It was fun to dabble with the sketch pens and crayons after ages

PPPS : I forgot to take the snaps of “Tastebuds on our Tongue” chart while I was making it. I forgot about it once again, after going to the school

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You know whats the best channel for wholesome music on radio:

Akash Vaani (not the movie,the Vividh Bharti Prasaran).

I’ve been listening to the radio lately (for the last month, since the BF is away) and I’ve come to the conclusion that – Commercial channels cheat us terribly. I have a string of voes against them, because -

•    they play the same set of songs, in different sequences, every 2-3 hours.
•    they snip off sections of songs(to make them shorter), so that if you are lip syncing to it and voice the next lyric, you’ll find that the singer has jumped to the last lyric of the song. Pretty disconcerting, I must say. Also, there are times when the advertisements run for ages and finally, finally a song plays thats your favourite….and BAM!!! It is abruptly stopped because that particular show’s time is over. Aarrggghh!!!
•   steal song time and bombard us with advertisements. Favourite ads running in Pune are the ones related to -

i)    Property/Construction/Websites selling property
ii)   Insurance/ policies
iii)  Gujrat tourism
Frankly,  I didn’t mind the Ads earlier, but as my listening time increased, I realized just how much we are bombarded with property news. As for the insurance ones, believe me, they are puke-inducing . A precocious little girl’s voice asks her father if she is eligible for a particular policy which  gives a gazillion returns on terms that the girl surely has no idea about. The ‘father’ proudly claims that the little girl is indeed eligible.

Hah!!

Wouldn’t it have been better if he’d confessed that he had already bought her the policy?? You lead a little kid on to believing that the particular policy is the answer to all her problems and then leave it at that? Who’s gonna purchase that effing policy, you dodo?!

Coming to Gujrat Tourism, aggressive marketing barely covers it. I’m almost convinced there is only one other state in India (other than Maharashtra). It is a little baffling to see how all the other states are mute in terms of their state’s tourism. Why the silence guys?? You don’t want people coming over to your place?

The Gujrat Tourism ads (in Amitabh Bachchan’s voice) were rather interesting earlier. They are just irritating now. If I hear a GT ad 6-7 times in a 30 min period anymore, I’m surely gonna be put off that place forever . Being aggressive is one thing and being a pain-in-the-ears is another. I think the Gujrat Govt just went overboard towards the latter.

I think Vivid Bharti does a much better job. Each program is well defined. You get songs from all the ages, not just the current hot numbers. There are limited adverts and within a span of 30 minutes, we get to hear 8-10 songs, unlike other channels which play 10 songs in an hour!!

So yeah, switch to 101.00 Mhz, I say. Its the safest bet where music is concerned

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We’re getting some woodwork done in the house lately, making a few cabinets, cupboards ,etc. I think its been going on for simply ages ! It doesn’t help that -

a) we are all away at work and the carpenter turns up only after the in-laws get back home

b) our carpenter prefers working alone

I think I’m severely ticked off with the sawdust now……if we aren’t busy inhaling it, we are busy wiping off a hundred surfaces coated with it . Its everywhere!! Even in my bedroom which is the farthest from the kitchen (for which the work is going on !)

To top it, our carps got an attitude to get on anyone’s nerves. He doesn’t talk much. Mumbles most of the time. Asks for suggestions, confirms a zillion times and then does what he feels is right.

We’re all just counting the days till we finally bid goodbye to him

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Its appraisal time in office once again! I’ve been contemplating what to enter in the self-appraisal section. Whatever I enter wouldn’t make an iota of difference because I’ll be on sabbatical when the actual promotions will be announced. Obviously, people on long leaves are never promoted. Fact of life

*Sigh*

But what needs to be done, needs to be done. I gotta finish this activity by tomorrow.

Could you guess I’m just not into the mood to do it?

Yeah well…..such is life!

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I just got a call that my best friend got married. Yipppeee

*doing a jig in my cube*

Given all that she went through, I’m glad she finally took that step!

Seriously darling…you deserve a separate post all to yourself..and I promise that I will do one for you. But for now, I HAVE to mention it, because I’m just so darn happy

Happy marriage day

I’ll remember it ALWAYS because it falls on the day after my parent’s wedding anniversary.

Oooohhh!!! I’m SO Happy

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Weekend Updates……..

….returns!!!

Seems like a gazillion years since I updated on my weekend escapades (you can call it that…seeing as how I escape doing half the stuff I’m supposed to do).

Life in the MomofRS household seems to flow in a languid pace. With the BF away, much of the vigour and vitality seems to be missing. We get through one day to the next. The only exciting thing happening currently is the full-throttle hunt for a bride for the BIL.

The BIL, sadly never had a girlfriend. This is something over which everyone at home grumbles about. For some unknown reasons, an appropriate match just isn’t taking place .  We haven’t yet found anyone to the satisfaction of everyone (excluding me of course. I have no expectations from the BIL’s wife and apart from the parents and BIL, I don’t think anyone should have a say in this matter). For now, I’m just going along with the ride.

I’m not enjoying it, though.

This arranged-marriage business is so tricky. Either things get fixed in one go or they take ages to to come to a conclusion. The BIL, alas, falls in the latter category. It seems as though the more proposals we see, the more we get muddled. MIL is going white, lamenting her son’s lack of skill in ‘pataoing‘ a girl .

We were supposed to meet a prospective girl and her family this weekend, but things didn’t work out and we had to drop the plan. It’s just sad because I had planned to meet up with G and P  (and if possible, Unmana too) over the weekend and now our meet has been postponed to the next weekend!

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“The President Is Coming”.

Oh yeah, I saw the Prez. He was on his way to inaugurate the ISKCON temple near my place (well, not really near my house, but you get it). The Prez’s entourage was to pass by on the road in front of my house. The policemen were everywhere keeping people off the road. In the 6+ years of my residence here, its the first time I’ve ever heard true silence. Not a single vehicle was allowed to move. People already on the road were asked to move to the by-lanes and stay put. Even pedestrians were told to keep off the road . The security was rather severe I must say, but it was rather sad to see hundreds of people standing under a really HOT sun (I’ve forgotten what winter looks like in Pune ), waiting for the Prez to come by. Motorists didn’t even have a chance to turn back, as there was a huge traffic jam in the junctions leading to the road in front of my house. Old men, women with little kids, babies even, weren’t allowed to cross the road.

The vehicles finally passed by, I got to see the President and even though I thought it would be a momentous occasion, I didn’t really feel that way after all .

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Shobby’s school bag was coming undone. The straps were practically torn to shreds and the side pocket for the bottle was….best not to describe it.

I struggled for a few weeks….debating whether to dump it and get a new one. With only 2 months of school to go, my middle-class-cost-conscious mind just wouldn’t allow me the liberty to splurge on a new bag.

So this weekend, I finally got down to it. Grabbed a big needle, a large scissor and oodles of heavy-duty thread. After much snipping, cutting and sewing, Shobby’s bag is as good as new. For added measure, I even soaked them bags in soap water and gave them a good brushing.

*Sigh*

It was tough work. But somewhere deep inside, I have this distinct satisfaction of doing some good for my kids, making an effort on their behalf, not to mention, saving a few bucks in the bargain .

At least my kids have learned that mending things gets them going and each time you needn’t just dump the old and get the new.

The stuff one has to take care of, I tell you

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I went shopping. Doesn’t seem like a big deal but it was. Because I was out shopping ( and I mean, bona-fide shopping, with big lists and all) after months!! In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I went about it. So out-of-touch was I that I missed out on buying half the stuff that was listed (brown rice, whole-wheat bread, etc). But I did end up buying stuff I hadn’t planned on (cheesy-potato wafers, books, a bag of candies)  so basically, some shopper instinct is still alive .

Also, I really need to start buying stuff that is NOT grocery. Pronto !!

I’ll start with clothes for the twins…maybe sometime this week

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This weekend, I cooked a variety of stuff . The cook usually makes the regular food but on days when she doesn’t turn up, I take control. And how!!   A lot!

In two days’ time I came up with -

- Mutton Curry and bagara rice (1.5 kgs of mutton and 2 kgs of rice.  I really can cook large quantities, me thinks )

- Veg Hakka Noodles, plain noodles and cheese-tomato soup.

- Cauliflower manchurian

- Veg Pulao

Not really considered as cooking, but I did churn butter and make ghee. This time, we managed to get nearly a kilo of ghee (after 4 weeks of saving up the  malai). Looks like our doodhwala is giving us pretty good milk .

It also means that the kids aren’t drinking as much milk as they should

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I’m reading the book, “The Japanese Wife” by Kunal Basu.

The story is riveting, no doubt, but am I the only one who wasn’t touched by it? Apparently, Aparna Sen was impressed enough to make a full-fledged movie out of it!

In the book, the Japanese woman, Miyage proposes to Snehamoya when she finds out that he is about to get betrothed to another. For 20 long years they lead a married life, albeit separately. Never once does she visit him or vice versa.

Why then does Miyage visit his village when he confesses to her (in a letter) about his slight indiscretion? Was insecurity the only thing that drives Miyage’s character? Why was she so distant and aloof  throughout? How does she come to know about his death and her status as a widow?

Maybe I just didn’t get the story. Or maybe, I didn’t read it in the best frame of mind. Whatever the case, if anyone has read it before and understands the subtext, please take the trouble and explain it to me too. I really need to know how that end came about !!

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I finally saw “Harishchandrachi Factory”.

A long time ago I had confessed to making an effort towards learning Marathi (and what better teacher than movies, I ask you!). I saw a few movies and then got hooked. Something like the way the BF got hooked to South Indian cinema

Anyhow, since this movie was India’s entry for Oscars a couple of years ago, I decided to give it a go.

Frankly, it is a rather sweet tale. Dada Phalke’s character loosely resembles Roberto Benigni’s Guido in Life Is Beautiful (if you haven’t seen LIB yet, make a dash for it. I don’t remember the last time I sobbed so hard. No, not even for Titanic. Or TZP ). Dada Phalke is a happy-go-lucky small-time magician with not a single shard of negativity to mar his persona. He dreams of bringing the first moving Indian film to India . The film is about his endeavors as he goes about fulfilling his dream. In this he is ably supported by his wife and two kids (which later become three ). He finally makes the film and gets recognized for it. But it isnt the film he makes that matters. It is the sheer enjoyment and dedication for the craft that matters. We feel the glee as he shows off his first moving picture, that of a growing pea plant. We laugh at his attempts to convince women to act in his movie. We also get to laugh at the valiant efforts of the motley crew which comprises of the cast.

Overall, the movie is full of positive vibes with the only negative turn being a blindness scare. Watch it if you get the time. The language is rather simple, but subtitles help

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Thats all for now folks…….I’m just glad to be updating this space after a really long time

If you’re around, do drop by and say hello

Have a GREAT week ahead

 

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With The BF Away…..

….. I can now plan my weekends

Okay, I may sound a little heartless right now, but hear me out.

When the hubs is around, my weekends depend on him. He has this typical habit of letting me know his plans at the nth minute.

At 6pm on a Saturday evening, he would say, “We have to attend my colleague’s kid’s birthday party”.

“What time?” I would ask.

“6:30 pm”, he would reply.

“Ummm…so that gives me 30 minutes to get myself and the kids ready, pack their bag, buy a gift and be there on time. Great. I’ll start pronto”, I say and proceed to do exactly that.

Within a few minutes of my preparations, he would say, “Rehde ….kabhi aur chalenge”.

And I would go, ” ” .

Sometimes, I would tell him that I’m going out shopping. He would ask me to be back within an hour because we have to go out somewhere. I would end up cancelling my plan because seriously, just one hour for shopping?? Unless you have a list of only 10 items, all available at the same spot, it just isn’t possible !

Anyhow, you get the drift. Mostly, we would plan something, it wouldn’t work out and then we would plan something entirely different and end up doing something that we just hadn’t planned. Go figure!

So, now that the BF is away, I have a few activities lined up for myself -

1) I had bought blocks for doing some block printing on dupattas. May start with those first. I’ll post the result of my efforts soon

2) Visit all my friends in town who’ve become new Mommies. A visit to them all is long due . a long line of kids await their not-yet-present maasi

3) Visit my sister…maybe even stay with her overnight (along with the kids, of course ). Being in the same city, it’s a shame I meet her barely once in 3-4 month’s time

4) Visit my relatives. And also the BF’s. I really think I must take the kids out to meet the extended families as often as possible. I don’t want them to nod their heads in dismissively when I take a relative’ s name (I do that sometimes…..because I barely know them )

5) Visit a parlour. Yes, I think I should visit a parlour more than twice a year. More so because my skin is slowly and steadily turning into a hot-spot for all kinds of zits of all colours and shapes. Right now, I have bumps whose colours range from white, yellow, orange, pink, red, brown and black. How’s that for a pallette?!!

6) *ahem…ahem* Exercise. Okay, I’ll wait till you finish laughing.

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

Done?? Good. Have we got that tiny moment of disbelief out of the way,yes? Excellent.

So where was I?

Yeah, about the working out. I’m serious this time. Dead serious . Not only that, I’m going to start eating healthier. More greens and lesser oils. More raw than cooked. At least the vegetarian part. Don’t think the raw non-veg stuff will agree with me

7) Start some new routines with the kids. We do have the regular feeding, storytelling, bathing and getting ready routines. I think the kids are now old enough to start on crafts. Maybe once a week, we’ll sit down together to get our hands dirty with paints and play-dough and glue and glitter. I think it will be awesome

8 ) Read more. Yes, I can now read more books as long as I want to without worrying about he BF waking up. Frankly, he sleeps deep and has never asked me to put down a book. But I feel guilty all the while. A part of me gets distracted to check if he’s disturbed because of the light. However interesting the book, I’m never able to give it my 100% attention. Now, I can.

9) Bake more. There are a hundred baking ideas floating in my head. Its time I gave them some life. Successful outcomes will be posted here. Failures would best be forgotten

10) Sleep more. It kind of contradicts with 8) but can’t help it. I intend to hit the sack early and get up early for 6). Only a nice deep sleep will allow me to look at 6) favorably. Else, all will be lost

There is also this teeny-tiny thing that I keep ignoring. I must and Really, REALLY MUST start taking the car out, at least on early mornings. It seems ridiculous that I got a four-wheeler driving license last year and till date  haven’t had the courage to take our car out, by myself *hanging head in shame* . I do think I should take this risk, though frankly, I’m not sure I can commit myself on it.

Dear BF, if you are reading this, believe me, I do miss you. I’m just packing my itinerary so that I don’t sit around the house and mope for you ….not that I’m not doing that already, its just that it upsets the kids!! Anyway, here’s a song for you today…heard it on the radio this morning….its a nice foot-tapping number and the lyrics are quite appropriate for what I feel right now . Here goes :-

 Missing you, as always !

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I Can’t Take This Song Out Of My Head!!

Its been a while since this song has been doing the rounds in music chart but its only lately that I’ve actually sat and listened to it.

Okay, before that, I’m talking about the “Radha” song from SOTY. Forgettable movie, that.  I’ll not go there. The other songs were hummable but easy forgettable. I wasn’t too keen on the Disco Song, as the original was much better. Call me a grumpy old grandma but I really don’t appreciate Hindi songs which have English rap or English lyrics in them. There are exceptions, of course, like “My heart is bleeding” from Julie, which was an all-out English number in a Hindi movie. More recently, the song, “Tera, hone laga hoon” from Ajab Prem Ki Gazab Kahani had English lines which didn’t hurt the ears!

Anyhow, the Radha song too had English lyrics and it took me multiple rewinds to understand what was being said. Apparently, the lines were “Everyone takes it on Radha”. I didn’t get the context, because before this line, Radha claims that ‘particular’ someone is pursuing her, grabbing her arms, etc. Umm..on hindsight, isn’t it actually true? I mean, girl gets stalked and everyone blames the girl. Looks like the origin of blame started a really long time back!

But that isn’t what the post is about. The problem is, with repeated playing of this number, I have become attached to it. There is something downright tappy about this number. When I hum it at work, I find myself either tapping my feet or my fingers! It disturbs the others, but who cares . So, there I was, listening to it for the nth time on my phone and it struck me. The reason I listen to this song is because, there is a certain section in it which comes alive, the portion which I look forward to. It is the part which is sung by Udit Narayan. He may not be a favourite with many, but he brings a certain flair to the miniscule lines given to him. Even as I hear it, I can imagine him singing with a big smile plastered on his face, enjoying the song  enough to give a dash of chutzpah! This song was made for him. A pity that he had to settle for just two lines! The other singers (Shreya Ghoshal, Vishal Dadlani and Shekhar Ravijani) do their bit, but they don’t give this song their all.

I really wonder why Udit Narayan isn’t getting more offers

Anyhow, I’ll leave you with this song which really peps me up each time I hear it . enjoy :-

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Ghar Kabootar Khana Hai

The song’s actually, “Dil kabootar khana hai” .

But since its the only appropriate song for yesterday’s situation, I just had to title this post as such

So what happened yesterday??

I came back from work, all tired and cranky. It was the traffic that ticked me off. I swear Pune traffic is the WORST in this planet! The kids cheered me up considerably with their enthusiastic welcome. MIL handed me a cup of tea before I progressed towards my room. Once inside, I closed the door, sat on the sofa and closed my eyes for a few minutes. A routine that I follow practically everyday. Helps me re-energise to get through the evening.

Anyhow, so there I was, happily lost in my thoughts when I heard a clear “gutar-goo”. The pigeons are getting louder eat day, I muttered to myself. And then, I felt the flutter. The distinct movement of air as a pigeon flew right over my head.

I yelped as I hopped out of the sofa, spilling tea left and right and struggled to unlock the bolt.

Now don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against pigeons. They are nice little, grey birds that wake me up each morning with their constant cooing. But a pigeon in the room, on my bed, is something I’m not comfortable with.

I rushed to the hall to check for the FIL, a tall, stately person, whose presence itself would suffice to get rid of them birds. Alas, he had just left for some work. I moaned in despair. My phone and change of clothes were in the bedroom and there was no way I was going back there.

“Don’t be chicken”, chided the MIL, “Pigeons don’t harm people”.

Yeah, right. Those sharp beaks and red eyes are for show!

But my anger was directed elsewhere now. The BF!!! He left those windows open! Oh well, then he was gonna get rid of that birdie! I had to call him to let him know.

My phone. It was in the room.

I summoned all the guts I had. I didn’t have a choice. The kids were looking on and they didn’t seem to appreciate their mother’s petrified stance. Not when they themselves seemed nonchalant about the whole pigeon issue. So armed with a big broom, the dupatta tied tightly across my waist, hair up in a bun, I stealthily approached the room. The said pigeon was sitting atop the cupboard. I groaned. No change of clothes for me  now . On the brighter side, the table on which I’d dumped my jhola, was safe.

With utmost stealth, I crept up to the table, dug my hands in for the phone and pulled it out with a triumphant snort. Only to face another pigeon which sat mutely on the bookshelf, observing me at close quarters. I did a repeat of the yelp and the dash and was out in a flash. Called up the BF and asked him to come home PRONTO. He drawled that it would take him another hour or so. I grumbled and muttered and finally disconnected.

I spent the rest of the evening glued to the drawing room. No ironing of kid’s uniforms for the next day, no ironing of mine.  No sorting of washed laundry and arranging in cupboards. I just sat in the hall and yelled at the kids to do my bidding.

Anyhow, around 9:30 pm, the BF sauntered in. I glared for all I was worth. He gave a disarming smile and said the pigeons would be out in no time. I didn’t bother to follow him inside to check.

A little over 20 minutes later, when the sounds of  ‘hudd hudd’, ‘sshhhhhhh’,'whee wheeeeee’, were still coming from the room, I couldn’t bear it anymore and walked in. The BF was trying his best to get rid of the birds. Must give it to him. He looked rather cute though , with the towel in one hand and the eyes focused on the birds and reserving a sheepish smile for me . All the windows were open, curtains drawn and yet, YET, the pigeons kept flying in front of the window, but would not fly out!!

Finally, we gave up.

It was late, we were all tired and if a pair of pigeons refused to leave the warmth of your house, there is very little you can do about it. That is how I ended up sharing my bedroom with a pair of pigeons last night. Mercifully, they were silent throughout. My only grouse was that they pooped a load!! All over my room

This morning, they didn’t immediately fly out after sunrise. One disappeared when I was busy in the kitchen. The other took a round of the house and finally flew out of the balcony door. Surprisingly, it barely took a few minutes for the birds to abandon us! I kind of agree with the BF that the birds just wanted to stay warm for the night, nothing else!

Anyhow, thats my kabootar-khana tale. When the kids grow up, I’ll share this tale of spending a night with the pigeons. A fancy memory this will make . What say?

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“Ek Par Ek Free” — Again!!

I think I’m the epitome of embarrassment.
There is something about me which begs embarrassment to come and hug me. Not only that, I’ve given the dear Em a place of permanent residence on my countenance.
The BF, aware of my predilection, choses to ignore it …well most of the time.
Other times, he’s busy bearing the brunt of it.
Once such incident, which came to my mind this morning will clarify my point further.
The year was 2005. Just a few months before, I had confessed to my parents about my undying love for the BF.

Actually, I didn’t. I just told them that I was ‘interested’ in marrying this guy, IF they approved
Mom put the onus of decision on Dad.
Dad, being dad ( ) had to say NO! I mean, what kind of a father gives a “Ja, Jee le apni zindagi” kind of approval when the daughter, the apple of his eye, the youngest of his off springs, drops in at his workplace one evening and drops the bombshell?? Tell,tell??
Anyhow, so Dad gave an outright NO. I realized I had some major brainwashing to do and decided to move to Bangalore, just so you know, I could be by his side and pester him into acceptance . It took time and I started seeing the first few signs of him thawing. Never the one to let an opportunity pass by, I rang up the BF and informed him about the update. The BF, bless his torn jeans, wasn’t really over the moon, but yeah, he cheered up a wee bit. Barely

In between, BFS dropped in to B’lore for a visit and we had a great week together. During one of our shopping expeditions at Pantaloons, I found this really cool offer where they were giving away two T-shirts for the price of one.
Ek par ek free!! (If you know me even a wee bit by now, you’d know its my life’s mantra!) I simply HAD to buy them shirts. Purchase done, I asked the cashier to gift-wrap one. Handing it over to BFS I asked her to personally deliver it to the love of my life. She hugged me and promised that she would do exactly that . Not hug the BF silly, hand over the T-shirt!
A few months went by. Dad had to make a trip to Pune, some stuff to be brought down to Pune for Bag’s wedding I suppose. I called up the BF and asked him to contact Dad on his arrival and be as much help as possible.
“I’m working, you know”, the BF lovingly informed me.
“Err yeah. Dad will be there this weekend. Make sure you take out some time for him”.
“Hmmphhh…the stuff I have to do for you….”!!
“Hey, it’s not as if you are sacrificing you weekend cricket match or your sleep?! Actually, you are, but what the hell! You love me no??” I wheedled.
Convinced that he had no option but to butter up the future pa-in-law, the BF got up early, shaved ( *gasp* on a weekend!!), put on his new shirt(gifted by his beloved) and went to do the needful.
*Ding Dong*
Dad opens the door.
“Hi-”
“Hi-”
Silence.
Silence.
The BF says it was a good 5 minutes that the two men stood there looking at each other. I’m sure he exaggerates. So what if both of them were wearing identical T-shirts?!! In my lah-di-dah way, I had gifted the other T-shirt to Dad, never assuming that there would be a day when he and the BF would end up wearing it in each other’s presence
It’s a good thing that Dad didn’t hate the BF or anything…..else, the situation could have taken a much worse turn. BF says he was never more mortified in his entire life!! Both he and my Dad were tongue-tied, not sure what to say to the other, since both of them were wearing the same shirt gifted by the one who loved them both. Me
In a way, I think it worked out for the best, maybe they both saw that they had something in common after all

The rest of the morning was rather awkward. Dad needed the BF’s help in moving some luggage around. Some relatives who had come to visit Dad commented on how he and the BF were wearing the same shirts. Neither the BF nor Dad bothered to reply to those comments (Somehow, I’m tickled pick just thinking about that scene )

But yeah, one of life’s lessons I’ve learned is that never ever buy the same coloured T-shirt if buying two for the price of one!

(As for ek-par-ek-free offers, go for it dude !!)

Saves one a lot of embarrassment in the long run

 





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Rude Awakening

Imagine this –

You have a cookery competition at work. You’ve done everything you possibly could have and tentatively wait for the judges to arrive. They finally come to your table, which, incidentally is the LAST one in the row. The judges are already stuffed to the gills and you have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that far from delivering a just verdict on your dishes, the judges are barely capable of inserting another morsel of food in their mouths.
The judges stand there, peering at your plates and then give you a glare. It is immensely difficult to fathom what goes on behind those beady eyes and flushed cheeks. One of them tentatively picks up one item and brings it to his mouth. You can see the hesitation, the reluctance, the sheer effort to control the surge of nausea as they have to perform their duty. You know, even before they are capable of taking that bite that things are not working in your favour. Your team-mates look just as glum. You stand there with your head bowed, praying for them to just leave, before any one of them indeed throws up! It’s a scary thought, but you really don’t want any projectiles landing on the fruits of your labour 
Somehow, the seconds seems to drag endlessly. Then you see another chubby arm reaching out for another bite. Then another. And another.
Your head whips up in time to see the most satisfied look on the judges face. If souls could preen, yours did exactly that. Though stuffed, the judges cannot seem to get enough of your dishes. You hand them more. They gulp in delight, like little children lost in Candy land. Your team mates shake hands and thump you in the back. They’ve been green with worry throughout the day. It is clear that the judges LOVED your dishes. You patiently wait for them to finish, letting them take their own sweet time to demolish whatever you’ve made. Its an effort well spent.
The others send envious looks your way. You don’t care. It is obvious whom the judges favour . It is no longer a secret. You stand there patiently, waiting for the verdict, which you already know by now. One of the judges extends his hand for a bite, alas, the plate is empty. You look down at it disappointed and then meet eyes with the judge. You send a smile in apology. The judge isn’t buying it. It is a tad late for you to react, but frankly, that punch that landed on your face just wasn’t expected, was it??
You gasp in shock, fear and pain. Your nose hurts a lot more than you ever expected. Unexpected tears trickle down your eyes. You shake your head to clear the haze. The lights have disappeared. It is dark. You wonder if you’ve lost your sight along with your nose. A curtain ruffles in the breeze. The haze clears.
You are in your bed. You daughter has just delivered a well-aimed kick at your nose. Her foot resides just inches from your face, ready to cause pain if she bothers to turn in her sleep. You crawl out of bed, only to find that you landed on the floor even before you could crawl two steps. The haze is definitely clearer now. You stand up to survey the damage. The nose, thankfully, is intact. No bleeding diagnosed.
You turn to the wardrobe mirror and laugh stupidly. Some crazy dream, that.
You make some space on the bed, shift your son and daughter into a better position and then cuddle down with them.
You can’t sleep.
The competition is still on tomorrow and you dread the judges once more 
And that is how, I spent last night and got up this morning!!

Hope you guys had a better start to the day 





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Absconding!!

You know you have reached a curve in your married life when your spouse does something totally unexpected.
Like asking me why I haven’t posted anything new on the blog
Like any regular wife, used to her husband’s complete ignorance of the aforementioned blog, I gaped at him for a complete minute.
“You read my blog?”
“Sometimes”.
“When was the last time?”
“Yesterday”.
“How often do you drop by??”
“Is this an interrogation?”
“Hell yeah!! You cant just walk in here and claim that you read my posts !!”
“Why ever not?? I seem to be one of your favorite butt of all jokes !!”
“Exactly why!!”
And that is why you must never let your hubby know your URL. Or even if you were daft enough to give it to him, desist from writing about him

Anyway, so the point, as the BF rightfully pointed out, is that I haven’t blogged in ages. The reason is that I’m absconding. I’m on leave. Official leave. The plan for vacation got scrapped, though we did manage a one day- one night trip out of Pune (more on that later).
I’m still on leave folks…will do a full-fledged post either this weekend or the next Monday.
Till then, have a nice weekend you all
And oh! be wary of spouses feigning ignorance of your blog and then dropping bombshells that they are regular followers.
Bluddy sinking feeling you get. Trust me
Ciao for now





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Weekend Updates

Hola people.

Its been simply ages since I narrated my weekend doings. Plenty of weekends went by with a lot of happening things and I forgot to post about them. But its never too late to write about what all happened this weekend (though I’m already midway to the next) and I’ll do it right here, right now

Saturday was a hot day! Hot enough to have the earth sizzling steam when there was a slight downpour during late lunch hours. The drizzle wasn’t heavy enough to cool the earth and it made the already hot day worse by adding humidity to it! Thankfully, the humidity wasn’t as bad as I’ve experienced in Chennai and Kolkata. The first time I went to  Kolkata, I complained to Dad that I had difficulty breathing. The lungs just weren’t used to the thick, heavy air.Luckily, last Saturday wasn’t that bad. The humidity lasted just that evening, next day , the air was reasonably lighter .The one important thing I did do was hunt for mud/soil for the plants. Kind of funny that I had to pay 30/- for a plastic bag of soil. I mean, I’d never have thought that there would come a day when I couldn’t find a patch of land to dig the soil from. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the day had already come and gone. There was no open area near my place from where I could get a little mud. The empty plots had a line of barbed -wire fencing with ominous threats to trespassers. The plant nurseries quoted some really atrocious rates. I had to finally  buy the mud from a road-side plant seller. The boy who sold it was a mean little thing. He filled the measuring pot with large lumps and then swiped a hand across the top to flatten the surface. Those large lumps had stones in them, a fact I found out after reaching home . I was taken for a royal ride by a brat less than half my age!! Whoever said that with age comes wisdom??

*****************************************

I made a visit to the parlour. *Sigh* Sometimes, I just never learn

After being inflicted with horrendous pain a million times, I still go there. What to do? Vanity calls out rather loudly.

But this time, I decided that for once,  For ONCE, I’ll be assertive. I’ll give that attendant a piece of my mind if I don’t like her service. Or her choice of songs. I was paying for that treatment and it better be according to my convenience!! So with all the indignation I could muster, I stormed into the parlour.

The attendant wasn’t there. She had left the job.

*Pffft*

(Thats my indignation balloon bursting, by the way)

Anyhow, the owner made up for the missing attendant.

“Your hair’s very dry. See how rough they are. You need some deep conditioning and a haircut.”

“Umm…I just wanted to trim my hair”.

“No no. That will not do. We’ll first wash it and then condition it. Then a little trimming and then wrap it up with a blow-dry”.

*mentally calculating the final amount I would have to shell out*

“Err no. Thank you. I just want a trim.”

The lady looked disappointed. She looked at me as if I was her child who had just returned with an ALL FAIL report card, after she had spent an entire year feeding me badam.

“Then why don’t you get your arms waxed. See what major growth you have”.

And once again, to the sound of drum-rolls, each and every head in that parlour turned to look at my arms. I once again learned how a guinea pig feels when all eyes are it just before a dissection.

Seriously, what is it with these morale-bursting parlours?!!

Anyway, I returned with just a haircut.

And some waxing

I know, I know!! The flesh is weak. The heart, weaker

I felt bad for not going in for the wash and shampoo and conditioning. So I shelled out for the waxing

I’ll never learn!!

***********************************

I’m currently reading a book by one of my favourite authors, Dick Francis. Leaving the unfortunate name aside, the man has written some really good books on the world of horse-racing. Being an ex-jockey, he has in depth knowledge of all the wheels of the trade . The best part is how he weaves his stories (ALL OF THEM) around the horse business.

Anyhow, the BF had never heard of this author before. The first time he saw me reading the book, he just snorted in disbelief at the cover, which bore the author’s name. “Are you reading porn?” he queried.

When I threw a exasperated look at him, he just giggled and walked out with the comment, “Better not read such books when the kids are around”.

Gaaahh!!!

Why did I end up marrying a man who has no love for reading ?!!!

***********************************

I made doughnuts. The fried ones, not the baked. And I made gujias. Its been ages since I did some senseless frying and what better time than a dull, hot, humid Saturday evening??

Yup! I LOVE standing in front of the gas-stove when the mercury inches towards the forties.

Could have kicked myself after straining out the first donut. But it was too late to back-out. So I suffered the heat for an hour longer. Worst part was that the donuts have to be fried on a low flame

Anyhow, the end result was that the donuts and gujias disappeared by Monday morning

(And by that, I meant that the family finished it off. This is just in case anyone was wondering if the elves visited us )

***********************************

Saw Paan Singh Tomar.

I really don’t have words to say about Irrfan Khan. A man standing on the verge of half-century can look /act like a youngster!! Who would have thunk it??

I cant think of any other actor of his age who could have pulled it off!!

And the running!! Boy, the sheer amount of running he did must have made him thin as a reed.

BTW, any idea what dialect was used in the movie??  It was awesome to see the sheer amount of expressiveness of that language. Loved it !!

And oh (spoiler alert) wasn’t it cute the way PST used to send his kids away to ‘eat lemon juice’ , whatever that means !!!

If you haven’t seen this gem of a movie, then please do!! Its totally worth your while.

*************************************

I fell off the bed.

As far as my living memory goes, this is possibly the FIRST such instance that I know of. I was more baffled, than hurt, wondering how I landed up on the hard floor. Luckily, the BF was snoring and didn’t feel the earth shaking as I dropped down.

By the way, it isn’t really my fault that I fell. It was Shobby’s fault.

My son has been driving me crazy with his sporadic illnesses. He’s up and running during the day and by evening, his little body  burn with fever. We’ve changed medications, had blood-tests done, tried home-remedies, nothing works. He is still under treatment, so hopefully, he’ll recover soon.

Anyhow, so my son has a cute habit of burrowing into the person he sleeps next to. He loves to stick close to the adult he sleeps with. So he’ll keep snuggling up to us and we, in our effort to not suffocate or squeeze him, withdraw a little away to give him space. So, because of  this burrowing and withdrawing activity last Sunday, I dropped out of bed. Because my little son kept nudging me towards the bed’s edge

Thankfully, the cursed fat came to the rescue which just implies that whatever fat you have is there a reason. Apparently in my case, it is there to prevent breakage in case of dubious falls.

Ultimately, Aal izz well

(Except Shobby, of course. He needs another round of diagnosis for his ill-health).

******************************************

Somehow, this last weekend was far less hectic than the others. The guests have gone, except the BF’s aunt. We’ve asked her to stay till t he MIL begins her summer vacations. Life is back to routine, except that the kids miss school and wonder why we aren’t dressing them up in their uniforms every morning.

I’m going crazy, trying to figure out how to keep the two occupied for the rest of summer. Summer camps hardly last 1-2 hrs and even then, there’s no one around to drop them and pick them up from there. Also, I’m not too keen on sending them out in the heat. Its far too hot! Alas, none of the kid’s summer camp activities are in the evening . The nanny herself isn’t keeping too well and she keeps the TV on the whole day for the kids. Its ruining whatever little control I had on their TV viewing habit, but she really isn’t able to keep the two occupied for longer than an hour or so.

I guess this is a possible indicator that I must retire soon

*Sigh*

Drat the BF!!! He never has to worry about all these things

The week’s going on superbly, by the way. Work’s good. The kids are slowly adjusting to their holidays and I’ll be meeting up with some old and new friends soon.

How was your weekend?? Let me know!





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5 Seduction-In-Car Stunts That Middle-Aged Mommies (Or ANY Woman for that matter) Should Never Try

( Phew!! Take a break. That title would have worn you out. Here then, take a sip of this water. Feeling better? Alright then, read on!)

Since I was a little kid, I loved those hindi songs more which were picturized on a moving car. If in a convertible, the heroine would be standing, holding on to the windshield, her scarf/dupatta fluttering in  the wind and happiness writ large on her face. She would sing of love and devotion and clear skies with puffy clouds in the same breath and the hero would smirk on confidently. Sometimes, she would tire out and snuggle up to him on the front seat. She would coo up at him and he would be gentlemanly enough to give her an indulgent glance before focussing on more pressing needs such as driving the car in a straight line. If he felt more generous, he would quickly whip out a bunch of glass bangles from under the seat and hand it over to his lady love. She would giggle like a five year old who has just been given her first Barbie. He may croon a few loving words himself, aligning his heart with the fragility of those bangles and the heroine would just simper and snuggle up closer. She might even light up a cancer-stick for him!!

The front seat in those days permitted such close movements. Drat you Maruti for bringing in the bucket seats . And even if the world at large knew that the car was standing still in some studio while the background moved around crazily, the hero would rarely, rarely take his eyes off the road. No siree…he may be in love and all that jazz, but he knew the traffic rule book . No amount of female adulation would make him lose his focus. He had to keep his car on the road and damn those silly hormones ringing in his ears.

*Sigh* Those were the days…………..

Nowadays we have heroines in skimpy attires woo-ing their men in moving vehicles while the men ogle unashamedly and sometimes, when them hormones ring seriously loud, even stop at a lonely stretch. What he whips out may not resemble glass bangles by any stretch of imagination and what proceeds next is best hidden behind a bunch of flowers. Or scarves. Or dupattas.But the point is, men rarely encourage seduction when the car is in motion.
What hasn’t really changed from then and now, is how men treat their women. And how men treat their women in their cars . They may give their woman fleeting attention, but if she wants more, the car has to stop.It would take a few more generations for women to realize that when weighed on the same scale, cars always, always score higher. They are allowed to weigh more. They are allowed to cost more. They are allowed to have the widest hips available. They are permitted sky-high maintenance. But any man worth his windshield sprinklers will confide (under an ebriated state, of course. Thats when the truth comes out) that given a choice, he would always choose his car over his girl.

Being a veteran of the “Do-You-Prefer-The-Car-Or-Me” brigade and weathering many a frosty,air-conditioned storms, I’ve come to the conclusion that when a man is driving, you just let him be. Let him caress the steering and stroke those gears. Let him play footsie with the clutch/brake/accelerator and croon sweet nothings at the dashboard. Leave him to steal glances at his own reflection in the reirview mirrors. A wise woman is one who doesn’t attempt to come between the man and his car. A wise woman carries along a book for the long distances and carries her longing for the short ones. A wise woman nods in agreement with every praise the man throws his car’s way. If he says, “look at the way she purrs”, you don’t turn your head towards your window and growl. Firstly, purring doesnt equal growling. Secondly, he didnt mean you. Being a wise woman, you ought to reply sweetly, “Just like a cat” and see him puffing up with pride. I dare say he may even feel a tad more affectionate towards you.

Being a wise woman myself, I now propose all the in-the-car seducing tricks that a middle-aged woman with kids should desist from (heck! I guess ALL women should desist from), if she wants to retain her dignity and the front passenger seat.
So all you middle-aged mommies out there, yeah, you who’s loyal to her post-partum weight even after 10 years, listen up. Here are a few tips on seduction stuff you shouldn’t try in a car.

Note : If you are a woman, single, unmarried, child-free, under twenty-five and weigh less than 52kgs, GET OUT!! Scram. Shoo. Vacate this space asap. This post is so NOT for you!!

(Aaaah….felt good to take that out of my system)

So without much ado, here’s the list :-

1) leggy-lass lacks leg-space : Remember that scene from Jism where John Abraham’s character drives his jeep along some tree-shaded route and Ms Basu’s character props up her healthy legs on the windshield?
Yeah?

Well, erase this  memory. Its a no brainer. Firstly , because we rarely have convertibles/jeeps being driven around. Try that trick in  your enclosed car and you’ll probably be begging the good doctor for an euthanasia rather than having a spine replacement job done.
Secondly, be honest, where exactly do you think your tummy disappears off to when you try and raise your legs high, huh?
And oh! Don’t ever try it out if you have thighs spilling from the sides of your bucket seats. And if you are the type of middle-aged woman who’s still slim as a willow, I HATE YOU already!!!

2) Tickle-me-not : You may have seen movies where a heroine slides a finger down the sides of the hero’s face. She then traces it down to his neck. The hero looks on stoically and it is a testimony to his acting skills that he doesn’t just yelp/squeal and drive the car off the road and crash into a fire hydrant.
Truth is, men are ticklish. They may swear they are made of sterner stuff, but look deeper and each man has his sensitive points (usually the are near the ears, towards the neck). If you know your man’s funny-bone, keep away from  it!! Miles away.Because your man isn’t an actor. He wouldn’t be able to control himself and will probably bill you for all the expenses he’ll have to incur later.

You wouldn’t want to pay up for that now, would you??

3) Go Wordy On Me : Not. Are you the types who loves reading out passages from your novel to your loved one? Do you like poetry and quote Wordsworth or Ogden Nash as your car cruises by the landscape? Do you try to make him understand the beauty of a Byron or a Yeats?
Well, take a break. A permanent one. The only poetry your man understands would be the smooth motion of his car, the sheer comfort of his bucket seat, the boisterous honking of the horn, the demure dipping of its headlights. Get real girl. Yeats is no match for a turbocharged 3.8ltr V6 Engine.

You may try engaging him in a map though. Men LOVE maps

4) Perfume(d) : Seduction by olfactory?! Err…not unless you want to hide the fact that you haven’t really taken a bath for a couple of days . Dab a drop more than needed and see him feverishly pulling down the windows and making sure that he sticks his head out of his window throughout!
You see, when inside a car, he likes to breathe in the leather, the dust of the foot-mats and the gentle fragrance of ambi-pur. Your thousands worth CK or Davidoff don’t matter!! They never did . You may be at your sexiest best, but he may end up looking like this :-

5) The Before and After : So you just had some…..umm.. good time in the car. You’ve reached your place. Its time to get off. You want to have some more fun at home. You drop him a hint.
Chances are, he’ll take the hint ONLY if at your exit, his car’s in the same state as ‘before fun’. If he finds your seat completely reclined, the foot-mat hanging half out of the door, the car-freshner lies on the floor and his favourite Tarzan car-toy is missing a vital piece of clothing, then you better lock the door and tuck yourself in. He isn’t gonna come back for you. Ever!!

If this is what the car looks like when you get off…..be prepared to go home alone

Thats some pearl-of-wisdom there. Feel free to add to the list.

And don’t forget to have a rocking weekend

Ciao.

 

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