on the move

the rains have wreaked havoc in bangalore. sanjana has been off school (pic on left) for 3 days now (some coz she wasnt well) and soon it will be time for us to leave.

yes, we're off again. this time to the north. Bangalore - Delhi - Dehradun - Mussoorie - Pauri - Rishikesh -Haridwar (transit) - Delhi - Bombay - Bangalore. by train everywhere except for the last leg. the way it is pouring here (not today -- yet, thankfully), the rain gods might have another agenda for us. if that's the case, you'll hear from me. else, so long for about 10 days.

fire, fire everywhere and not a hose in sight

just as we were about to sit down to another episode of "dwiteeeeya" -- BigB in KBC, for those uninitiated in dinner-time middle class indian passtime -- the crackers went off. too close and too many to be an early harbinger of "diwali." and so we rushed out to the balcony to see a shed next door (the swanky Bangalore club) going up in noisy bright flashes. bombs, chatpatis, anaars, rockets, chakras, the works. over Rs 1 Lakh (over $2500) dissolved in brilliant colorful flames.

what a shame, what a waste and dreadfully dangerous. the rockets went up any which way, one even hitting our building under our neighbour's eave. almost a full 15 minutes after it began, once all the explosives were spent, a distant clang clang heralded the fire engine. and then another few minutes later, the ubiquitous indian whistle could be heard. but nothing could be salvaged -- it was all done by then. a couple pitiful hoses emptied themselves on the already dying fire as if to say, duty done.

in all this time, we tried calling 100 and 101 (police and fire) and i was told politely by a disembodied and pre-recorded Voice that the line was busy. good, great help.

another day went to sleep, once more underlying the woeful ineffectiveness of indian government and service authorities. stephen sacker's question to narayana murthy came to mind - when the chinese government plans something, it gets executed without fail. what to do have to say to the fact that the indian government is completely the opposite?

what can one say?

amorphous | choices | hunt | fast

there have been a ton of people about the house lately. of course, that gives me cause to observe a variety of natures, them being "in my face," as the saying goes. human nature. we often refer to it as one amorphous thing. but of course, it is not. it is probably the most influenced, circumstantial, viral -- infectious and constantly changing -- thing i know of. (is there a better word for human nature, than "thing?") and so it is, with this household.

our own nature morphs with the natures around us. but some innate qualities refuse to go away.for example, i feel awfully uncomfortable when someone sulks. no matter that it may not have anything to do with me, i feel compelled to apologize for whatever. yeah, some of you know that about me. so even if someone else 'wrongs,' i feel compelled to apologize. yikes. but yesterday, i tried an experiment. i willed myself to not apologize. would the other nature also morph to make up? no. the sun set and rose again but still no morphage. so i began to feel jittery because, for me, it was an unnatural situation. hmm. so my nature morphed outwardly like a virus but still retained an innate quality. whereas the other nature refused to morph, retaining instead the quality it always exhibited. as a result, the outcome was less than stellar.

with another incident, it was different. when one changed one's behavior, the 'opposing' nature also morphed and circumstances changed favorably. so my conclusion there was that when both natures morph, it complements. of course, the argument could be made that it complements for better or for worse.

so what makes one nature morph and one not? ego, ignorance, sensitivity (lack thereof), self-centeredness, routine, ennui, apathy. these are all mostly negative qualities. but on the other hand, there are times when one does not let stuff happening around one 'bother' them. that could also be construed as morphing. resilience, a determined sunny outlook, positivity, nonchalance and 'rising above' situations show up on the radar. so there are both bad and good reasons why natures choose to morph or not.

the trick lies in figuring out where the fine line is between insensitivity and one's own peace of mind. and of course, as in everything in life, you make a choice.

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we had a treasure hunt on sunday. sanat's birthday in advance and an excuse for having some fun. of course, i love putting together something like that. residency road, brigade road, church street and lavelle road bounded the aspirations of five teams scurrying to reach the finish line.

O! i'm real warm stone. stumped most people. it is a 'war memorial' (scrambled, hey -- remember da vinci code's very first clue? something like that) at the corner of brigade and residency. most people probably passed it a ton of times ;)) and so it went on from there. 9 clues and 5 teams. my cell phone rang like crazy and i enjoyed every minute of it. the teams had to figure the clues out, reach the place, take a pic of it and then head on to the next clue. at the end of 8 clues, there would be a pattern that would lead them to the 9th clue which then would 'tell' them where the treasure was.

sanat and supi were in one team and they won hands down. they even figured out a clue which none of the other teams could. pretty cool, i thought.

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have you ever fasted? i had not. not ever. so i decided to try it one day. supi decided to try it with me. so we woke before dawn and ate a good breakfast. i had a chapati with sabji, corn and some chai and water. that's it. from 5:00 am i did not then have even a sip of water, until 6pm. how did i feel? well... i was hungry at times and really distracted from my work. i found solace in cooking for the others -- ha! but strangely, i got really crabby after eating at sun down. now, why would that be? regardless, i decided that starving the body achieved no particular peace of mind and decided not to do it again. simple, flat and binding decision. it helps when you are not bound by any higher, supernatural authority, with no offence to higher, supernatural authorities.

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and if you are wondering about the flower, it is a blue lily in a pond on the organic farm we had a blast at, outside mysore. what colors nature shows off! (ha, in the light of this post, pun not intended.)

looking ahead, half expectantly

three generations will be traveling tomorrow to join a fourth in Mysore. stuffed like a turkey at thanksgiving, the week promises at least some story. Overnighting in the BR hills with Supi and the soliga tribals, visiting an organic farm the next day, and catching tibetan monks debate, the day after. that much is for sure. thursday is when mysore dresses up. and the world turns up to watch. will we be there? not sure. might catch an early morning boat ride at the bird sanctuary and then blend into the city market to see how it metamorphoses.

and so, this next week, i am going on work. work is to tell stories. stories are out there waiting to be found. stands to reason, i need to get out there. what could be better?

can someone credit back to my account ten years of floundering?

living in the past...

one thing lead to another, like things should. and as i researched and read, i clicked and scrolled and read some more, i found a mesh of people who seem to think like me, be like me, like what i like, do what i do. do what i want to do. and sometimes i find threads in that mesh are only 2 degrees of separation away. it's like finding a stash of letters in an attic and discovering old friends once lived there. oh and yes, all these likeminded souls are of the female ilk and journalists. and so now i have suddenly a handful of blog sites i will be checking, over a morning cuppa on an idle saturday. deepa, ramya, uma, etc.etc. ;)

but i miss flesh and blood sitting across from me under huge walnut trees discussing inane books. i miss huddling over gazpacho in a bakery on a sunday morning talking unchangeable life stories. i miss taking off work to paint pottery in overalls. i miss walking out after a play, mesmerized by bialistocknbloom. i miss waiting forever on cold nights getting giddy and light over hopeless tequila and fiery salsa. i miss forgetting how conversations ended simply because i was too sozzled. i miss pretending i was sober when the ground swam dizzyingly in front of my glassy eyes and my friends danced on chairs. i miss those thai lunches followed by sickly sweet starbucks brews and groans of meeting-filled afternoons. i miss giggling like a hysterical schoolgirl over friends' driving habits and then soberly discussing life goals that changed every week.

yes, i have different things to do now -- even more exciting things. but i miss those laughs and highs and just having a girlfriend share the joys and sighs.

bambi trauma

somebody forgot to tell the author how important a child's sense of security is. bambi loses his mom. now right there i was shocked twice. how do you explain that to a baby? (yeah, for me a 4yr old is still a baby). and how do you explain the fact that 'bambi' is a boy?! so mommy and baby today stepped into phoren terrain, reading bambi for the first time.

probably last time as well. for sanjana bawled and bawled and bawled. when will bambi's mommy come back? who were those men? why did they shoot? someone tell me why they wrote this story. sanjana has been on a "how do they make chicken?" trip for some months now. and she doesnt mean the recipe. do you kill it? why? you shouldnt kill, right? right. i'm a vegetarian. apparently that's what she has told her teacher. and her concerned eyes are making me follow suit. (i know a certain someone who'll be glad to read this.)

she lies beside me now as i type and is asking me if i am blogging the bambi saga. yes, how did you know? and again, "is the mommy killed?" i dont know. "she might be killed?" i dont know, doll. right about now i could wring the neck of whoever wrote that story (oops, wrong sentiment, uh). this child is traumatised. i can only imagine what dreams she'll have.

and i still cannot get over the fact that bambi is male.