driving ms crazy

remember manthara? remember those mythological, small, influential voices? more importantly, remember the effect on keikeyi? turned the course of the story, didn't it? well, i cannot pretend that there is any story to be turned here, but the intrigue and deception gets more insidious and potent as the days roll on. and wary tho i am, about believing everyone (and ironically, noone), the seeds of suspicion are sown. well, actually, the seeds of suspicion (sown by observation) have developed into saplings by feeding on the small voices. yes, these might be rumours but no smoke without fire, es verdad?

turns out the driver is far from innocent. and is even further away from being non-interfering and "minding his own business." if the voices are to be believed, he has a long list of complaints in the building from residents and workers. chatting up young servant girls, driving rashly, being impatient behind residents' cars and flashing the high-beams incessantly, debasing our live-in, propositioning her, even sending his cell phone number to be given to her after she left, etc. isn't this the guy who eloped to get married to his love? yikes. we know he is no saint, but this puts a different color on the whole situation. remember my post about trust? why is it so difficult to trust? no no, why is it so difficult for these people to be trustworthy?

well, now what do i do? the live-in is gone, the driver is of dubious character. this must be signalling the end of the honeymoon phase. one thing about india is that while (or since) there are tons of people to do things for you, you tend to become dependent on them and when they lack integrity -- and they often do -- your artificially propped up faery-tale pedestal crashes into unrecognizable pieces. and so it has happened with this driver. but first i have to do some sleuthing and checking up on my "sources." the driver is so sharp, he can smell and hear things without effort and i need to be discreet. so for now i am saying nothing to the driver (until sanat gets back) and then we'll see what to do.

while it might be fairly straightforward to put the pedestal back together, the cracks of betrayed trust and peace of mind will probably show through only too plainly.

living in, moving out

shanta, my "live-in" moved out today. nothing short of a "mujhe meri maa chahiye..." "bete!! main tumhare bina nahin reh sakti." and "mere voh (repenting, reformed hubby) mujhe vaapas bulaa raha hai."

here's what happened. her son had long run away from home and returned and run away again and returned, this time with her daughter who was also acting up. so shanta had taken time off to go leave them at her mom's. she returned and things went south within the hour. i was sitting and trying to figure out some stuff when shanta suddenly piped in, "i'll go down and meet prema." not suspecting anything at all, i said ok. within a minute security calls and tells me shanta's hubby was waiting for her. my first reaction was to protect shanta... but silly me. as i rushed to the window, i saw her walk out the gates and stand chatting with the said hubby. wasn't this the man she was afraid of? obviously not any more. 25 minutes later she comes back and tells me "prema's sister's husband came looking for prema, so i went to talk to him." was there anyone else, i queried. "his friend." i told her what security said. her face was a picture of fright and tongue-tied confusion. she was obviously lying. "i'll leave," she volunteered.

go, let me not stand in your way. no, not on the 25th... today. take your salary and take care of your life.

and so i'm without 'help.' prema still comes in to clean... at least i hope so! in some ways, many ways, her chattery, capable, transparent self is a welcome relief to the quiet, lying (i find out today) skulking ways of shanta. i shouldnt be too harsh on her tho. she wasnt bad, until she was bad... know what i mean...? like the girl with the curl?

and then i get this call on my cell from bihar (or was it belgaum?) "hallooo? aap kaun?" excuse me. you called me. who do you want? "nahin, aap kaun bol rahe hain." ok, i was not going to give up so easily. i was in a fiesty mood today. listen. you called, what number did you want? you've obviously gotten a wrong one. turns out not. 9886613881. oops. ok, who are you? "aapko second hand SIM card mila hai. i lost mine a year ago." then why are you calling me now? "where are you?" the voice queried. bangalore. "bunglaur? baap re. card bunglaur kaise pahunch gaya?" beats me. i've had it for the past 3 months now, sir, thank you. "achcha. ok. sorry." the voice tried calling me once more, but the ambient noise of the mall i was in drowned it out. anyways, i was not in the mood for any more disembodied voices laying claim to my property. grrr. of course, i wondered if the great driver ramesh had done his own share of hanky panky and bought a second hand SIM for me at first hand SIM prices. i asked him, he denied it, offering an explanation fo hutch recycling numbers of lost SIM cards. to believe or not to believe?

what a day. suddenly the relative isolation of a chandler home with gently lapping lake waves sounds soooo inviting. ashu, are you reading this? :)

Disclaimer: for azcoolgroup only

before you conjecture and conclude why i could be suffering from nausea (see prev post), i should clarify that the 'doli machch' from the East Bengal buffet that i greedily tucked into the prev night probably did me in. an eco-friendly byproduct of the nausea (no, get your mind out of the drain ;)) has has been a renunciation on my part of any meat.

so, no pitter patter of more tiny feet here. not for now, anyways.

little elephants, little pleasures and a little person

rediscovering cousins, getting re-inspired by an uncle, traveling, reading, watching a few movies, clicking, chowing and celebrating life with a corrupt hard disk. that's been life over the past two weeks, in case anyone noticed my absence ;).

have you ever watched bollywood on mute? it is even more ridiculous than when it's running on full throttle. i just flicked on a channel where jeetendra, rishi and rakesh roshan are trio-dancing some absolutely inane steps dressed in cowboy boots and capes fitted over figure hugging shiny sequined shirts. as if their get up is not funny enough, the choreography is a hoot. it goes something like this: knocking on a door, distributing leaflets, lassoing something, walking on a tightrope, pulling down the blinds, about to shake hands and then changing ones mind, extending hand again, changing mind again, and then kicking the garbage out. ms. munim, witnessing this spectacle seems to be appreciating it tremendously, though.

coorg. a pock-marked road wound its way up, up, up, through teak and bamboo thickets and into mountains draped with lush coffee and pepper plantations and the tiny locality of madikeri 125km west of Mysore. anywhere you looked, a tiled roof farm house could be seen, set amidst betel nut creeper-smothered tall silver oaks and coffee plants. apaiya estates. bucanalado (or something) estates. thimaiah estates. and fog everywhere. it was like driving through white organza that shrouded shades of green. like looking through frosted glass. moss covered every wild tree and sagged and hung from higher reaches giving the whole place an un-touched and slightly eerie quality. but the beauty was breathtaking. as we took all this in, we wondered how to get to our hotel. as if reading our minds, sudden yellow signs appeared and pointed the way to our hotel. 8kms, 5kms, 2kms, 0 km ->, it said.

built on the side of a hill, our hotel had opted for unobtrusive, traditional architecture, but was quite obviously new. an unusual combination, quite heartening. 35 acres of land was mostly covered by tall mossy trees and rich undergrowth on the forest floor. the occasional call of a peacock reminded me of the proximity to wilderness and added to the excitement and the array of bird calls i was largely unsuccessful at recognizing. (mental note to self: brush up on indian bird calls. figure out how to to tell where the call comes from.) sumptious meals spread themselves decadently each lunch and dinner, but my stomach finally protested at this sensory and gastronomic overload, and willed me into a 2-day fast. i opted out of a visit to an elephant camp and instead slept in trying to ignore the nausea. when i felt slightly better, i snuggled down into a cool, newly made white bed with a book (My land, My people by the Dalai Lama -- in case you are interested). this was just as well as i felt much better by the evening, but opted to skip all meals thenceforth.

so yeah, in the backpackers paradise, the only back-packing i did involved pillows. no regrets tho, as this was supposed to be a vacation with no agenda or to-dos.

kabini. a jungle lodge on the southern end of nagarhole national park. as the wind coursed through my hair on the game drives, i realized that i enjoyed nothing more than being in the wild and watching nature doing what she does best. and what better than having a group of people around who are as excited as you at spotting the flash of a golden backed woodpecker or a crested serpent eagle perched high on a leafy teak tree, or the fresh pugmarks of a panthera tigris. at a small elephant camp in the middle of the forest, we stopped so that the sub-4ft members of the party could enjoy their first pachyderm encounters. while the little feet hung over a large elephant cow and disappeared into the forest, a little baby elephant entertained us by simply showing up. and then, suddenly, it decided to mock charge me! i laughed and dodged it and it picked another gamely soul to chase... so adorable was the little one that we were instantly in love with it.

speaking of little ones....
welcome, dear little thaker. how fitting that you should be born on Aug 15. your dad is synonymous with wearing the indian flag on his sleeve, heart, hand, everywhere and embodies the best of the indian spirit. and your mom made us proud bearing the flag at our graduation. welcome to your life, you couldnt have chosen a better home to be born into. raaj karoge. aur karna bhi chaahiye!

other happies: happy birthday praveen! belated happy birthday to little ayesha!

almost wrote a very introspective blog entry today, but opted for a more descriptive one. but the introspection continues as i revel in books and re-discover the pleasure of reading on my own time in the complete absence of compulsion or expectation of any kind.

at some point i will need to end the status quo and earn my keep. what are the chances that i will earn doing what i love?

oy, chak de phatte!

one saturday afternoon, rather late for lunch and ravenous, alex, sanat, sanjana and i decided to head for a punjabi food festival (called chak de phatte) at the chancery which happened to be a stone's throw from our house. now, if only i could remember all those delicious dream dishes. it started with amritsari fish, a bunch of other murgh, gosht, kadhis and haryalis, baingan ka bharta, garam garam makki di roti sarson da saag de saath, paneer tikka masala, punjabi daal tadkewali, gosht ka sabzaa, vagehra vagehra...

wait, there's more: a whole stall full of chaat stuff -- aloo tikki to die for, papdi chaat jo chaat tey reh jaaoge -- elco, take a page from this... ganne ka ras on the buffet (milavat ke bagaer), lassi man chaho jaisi and, to top it off, gajar ka halwa, kaju kathli, fruit salad, gulab jamun, rabdi aur malpua. these were satisfied fish, happy chickens, very serene veggies -- and above all, one amazing chef, no exaggeration. truly the pinnacle of punjabi culinary achievement, this was an ultimate satisfaction of the palate.

so, mis amigos, if you happen to be in bangalore before August 15, pet puja karna na bhuliye. the buffet will set you back Rs.350 on the weekends and Rs. 325 on a weekday -- open for lunch and dinner -- a small price for such gastronomic bliss.

oh, and if you do happen by, dont forget to drop in and say hi.

revisiting, celebrating, pondering... being me

now why didn't i think of this before? sitting in a balcony, feet up on a chair, cuppa tea deliciously warm, cool morning breeze wafting various breakfasts cooking, myriad birds -- almost all some shade of green, clouds racing across an azure sky, the sun delighted to peek through after days... laptop on my lap (uh...), writing and musing -- oops and a big big bumble bee!

bliss? touch wood.

31st July, sunday. aaah. the day stretched lazily ahead, threatening to come alive with go-heres, go-theres. sure enough, by the time 11 am rolled around we had ordered a sumo (10-seater car) and set off to a lunch appointment and then to that ancient, beautiful temple again... the two trips to the temple couldnt have been more different. the heavens opened up when we got there and dumped a bunch of rain as we sat huddled in our car watching unperturbed buffalos tethered and chewing cud while straggly locals crammed under non-existent overhangs.

the crepuscular sun managed to sneak a few rays through when the rain stopped, but not before huge puddles succeeded in making it impossible for us to keep our feet dry. when we walked in, the nicely bathed temple shone golden in the evening sun as grey and white clouds cloaked the hills behind. couldnt have asked for a better setting. breaking away from the gang, i walked through the several courtyards into the bath area and circled clockwise taking in the emptiness, still eloquent, again. i had to be pulled away by the rest, but only in body. i still relish and regurgitate those hues, walls, that color of light, that speaking silence... this has to be my favorite temple to date.

now, if only i could arrange that each time i go back, it rains, clears and the sunlight lends that brass-gold quality to everything around.

ok, what follows is a rather dry account of sanjana's party. just for chronicling sake:
29 July 2005: the house started filling up. by the 30th evening it was brimming with small rainbow-colored people and large colored people. smiley faces, samosas, corn bhel, jello, snoooopy cake (iced at home), tri-colored sandwiches, haka noodles -- spicy and non, lollipops, streamers with stars, balloons in pastels, curly ribbons and much chattering was in attendance. of course there were games and treasure hunt puzzles which the kids and some adults digged (or is it dug?). so despite having barely enough standing room, the evening was loud and happy and sanjana turned 4 publicly amidst what i called a "rainbow riot."

strangely enough, overcome by a bout of shyness, she disappeared exactly during the cake cutting and candle blowing do -- much like supriya used to, when she was little. no amount of coaxing or cajoling brought her out, so the cake was cut by mom, and fittingly, a compliant whiff of breeze blew out the candles :)

i realized that 10 years of association stays with you everywhere you go. woefully lost while planning, i had no clue what this new set of invitees and sanjana's friends would care for. it was a case of "if this were phoenix" azcoolgroup this, azcoolgroup that. in the end, the people were too polite to speak their mind and they all left with "it was fun, thanks." wokay, come yegain ;)

have you seen mr and mrs iyer? another movie that pulled me back to it each time i tried to move on.

have you ever tried to sketch your own character? how would you behave when this happens... when that happens? when nothing happens? are you happy? no, wrong question. what is happiness to you? really... think about it. $79K in the bank? $200K? more? being home when little feet get off a school bus? what would you give up? are you doing what you like? look in the mirror. like what you see? hmmmm. now now. mr and mrs iyer poses none of the above, these are random musings on a quiet morning. and rather important stuff, me thinks.

musing away... on the cool breeze of a sweet day... (hum this to the tune of "skating away" by Jethro Tull)