WHEN FOOD LOOKED GOOD!

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a picture of what was served when I ordered Chicken a la Kiev for dinner at this new place in town. Oh, all right - it's been around forever, just that I seem to be the only inhabitant of Mumbai who had never been there. New to me, right? *grumble*

Deconstructed, that is:
Mashed potatoes made into the chicken, with food colouring for the beak.
Tortilla chips for the wings and tail (?)
The 'egg' was SINFUL - batter fried cheese and melted butter and some other bits of goodness
Served on a bed of rice, surrounded by chips and sauteed veggies (See, I knew it was healthy. Hah!)

Waddled home some gazillion pounds fatter, but oh-so-happy.

CHOCOLATE

Hmm, haven't made any in a while now. But here's a (badly taken) picture from when I did, a few weeks ago:

TELLY ON THE BLINK

So we're in the middle of watching Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for the nth time, when suddenly Hermione peers out at us from this gloomy, mud-coloured screen. That she's also eerily outlined (for want of a better word) in orangy-yellowish squiggles really doesn't help her case. Or rather, the telly's. Panic. Mad rush to the TV to switch off the mains, count to ten, and switch the TV back on again, silently sending up prayers to the Telly God. Apparently though, he's rather miffed with us: twelve hours later, Hermione still looks the same. Sigh.

Reach out for the laptop, Google Samsung India's helpline, and listen to Tinny IVR Lady for the longest time, before getting connected to "Hello, Ma'am, this is Whatsisname, how may I help you?". Turns out that the 'help' will arrive only after 24 hours, so until then, we have other forms of entertainment to choose from for today:

• Listen to music.
• Read. (Ah. Music to my ears, I don't need the radio now, really)
• Paint. (Damn, where did that canvas get to?)
• Take a walk in the rain. Hmm, maybe towards evening.
• De-clutter my wardrobe. Uh, yeah, sure. *whistles loudly, looking skywards*
• Just spend time chatting with the significant other. Now this can be done!
• Cook. Err, rain check! Rain check!

TABLE?!

Sure, if you insist. That's what it is. A table.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Really, now. *rolling eyes in head*

Okay, if you've finished laughing and picked yourself up off the floor, here's the lowdown: this was a table we - the significant other, a couple of friends and self - sat down at to dine. Okay, seriously, stop laughing! :D Where, just so that you know where to go for your next dose of entertainment? This restaurant at a budget hotel in small town India.

Buuwwahhhhahahahaaa.

ONE BLACK COFFEE, PLEASE!

Seriously, black coffee should be declared a religion. How is it even possible to start off the day *yawn* without a steamin' hot cuppa?

This is what most of my mornings look like:
Wake up smiling grumpy most of the time.
Look around bleary-eyed.
Stumble to kitchen.
Plug in the trusty best friend, uhh coffee maker.
Scoop in the grounds, add the water. Slosh some on hand, of course.
Keel over wait while the coffee manna is brewed.
Inhale the goodness.
Garner enough energy to open one eye, as a result. See what magic coffee can do?
Eagerly grab mug with both hands, inhale the happiness again. And again. Sip. Scald tongue. (Oh, how does that even matter? It's coffee heaven.)
Sip some more.
Open the other eye.
Mournfully look down at the dregs, wondering where heaven vanished to.
And then... start off the day.

Now, can this be anything but a religion?

SICK OF BEING SICK

That's what I am. For the past couple of weeks or so, have been fighting off a miserable cold. And just as soon as I think I'm all better, whoosh! it's back. Blergh.

These days, those manufacturers of tissue paper are rejoicing at the business I've been single handnose-dly been giving them.

Chicken chowder, here I come... again!

THE CITY IS WOUNDED. AGAIN.

As I type, three serial bomb blasts have hit the city. All in places wherein the human population is so dense, that even a stray pup wouldn't find a spot to place a tiny paw. And no, I don't exaggerate.

Tomorrow's headlines will praise Mumbai and her people, about how we're 'resilient', how we 'bounce back', how 'life goes on', how strong the city and her people are... Rehashed, recycled - just the venues of the tragedies change.

But this makes you wonder: where all can you hide? As long as terrorism has us in its clutches, we're just not safe anywhere. Tomorrow, we're all gonna be back at our desks at work, and today will be a memory we'll tut-tut about. Shame. It's so painful. Every time something like this happens, for a minute there you're cold with fear, and almost dread calling up people - you are so afraid of hearing the worst. You feel so helpless... and then your belief that politics is a joke is reinforced.

The question is: How long? Just how many more such incidents wherein the city continues to pay so heavily?

BAKING BREAD (OR BUYING A NEW MICROWAVE)

Did you know that baking bread is one of my favourite things to do to relax unwind serve with the soup at dinner?

So these days, here's what I've been attempting to bake. (Does 'attempting' raise an eyebrow? It should, if like me, you own a convection microwave too! Grumble.)
Flour - 200 grams
Baking powder - 1 heaped teaspoon
Walnuts - a handful (okay, maybe more)
Egg - just the one
Honey - umm, enough to drizzle over the walnuts and soak 'em up. So maybe 2 or 3 generous spoonsful.

Here's what you do:
Mix all the above ingredients, and pop into a pre-heated microwave for about 20 - 25 minutes.
When you hear the ping! - head on the micro, poke head to glass and try to peer in. When unsuccessful (as I nearly always am), open up door and stare at what was supposed to be the World's Best Baked Loaf and scowl. (Or maybe not, it may just turn to stone. No, scratch that, it can't get any worse, can it now?) Or better still, grab car keys and head on over to the nearest electronics store and drool at better microwaves/ Gadgets Designed To Change The Future Of Baking Forever. As I do.

P.S.: No, this fiasco attempt at baking bread does not reflect on my domestic abilities (or lack of them).

WHY COFFEENCINNAMON?

A little late in the day, I know, but here's the logic:
1. I love coffee.
2. I love cinnamon.
3. I love cinnamon flavoured coffee.

Not necessarily in that order.

Also on my list of favourites these days is my new diffuser (pictures to follow) and cinnamon aromatherapy pure happiness oil. So here's the thing: when you light this little tea light, there's the most wonderful cinnamon-y scent that wafts through the living room house. Bliss!
So add to that:
Coffee in my favourite mug
Instrumental music
Dim lighting
A good book
Nothing else comes close to this, when you wanna unwind at the end of a stressful day!

TO HAVE A PERFECT SUNDAY, I WILL...

relax with a hot cuppa tea and the newspapers,
watch Harry Potter I (again, for the nth time) on DVD,
have a leisurely lunch,
blog,
haul self off to Phoenix Mills, watch a movie (Delhi Belly).

Happy to report that I've not even gotten past item #2 on list. (Okay, so I did skip to #4, which is evident)

*dances a happy dance* SO much to look forward to today!

WAITING

Six p.m., and he is obviously running late, she thinks as she patiently waits for him by the sea shore. It is a rainy evening, with a strong breeze and a wild sea vying for attention against the heavy grey skies, promising even more rain in the hours to follow. Shivering, she pulls her stole closer, and sits herself on an empty space on the low stone wall separating the sea from the pavement and the road beyond. Watching the vendors, cajoling people to purchase paper cones full of hot gram spiced up with sea salt and a twist of lime, she idly contemplates giving in and buying one. Just the vague thought of spoiling dinner stops her.

Some distance away, a man casually dressed in faded denims and a plaid shirt hurriedly steps off a bus, umbrella in hand, and starts to walk briskly towards the sea. Mr Mehta from Kumar's Coffee Shop waves out a greeting as he passes by. At the traffic lights, a young boy in a dirty but cheerful blue-and-white striped tee shirt weaves quickly between cars, exchanging copies of the evening papers for a couple of coins. He calls out to the boy, purchases a paper and continues to walk ahead.

There she waits without complaint, he thinks guiltily, and quickly hurries to her. With the familiarity of practice, he reaches out and weaves a small garland of fragrant jasmine flowers into her wind-swept braid. She turns around at the gesture, smiles and moves over for him to sit beside her.

Together, they open up the papers, and scan the Apartments Available section in the Classifieds. Until then, they make do with the privacy the sea and a low stone wall have to offer them in the bustling city of Mumbai.

KIARA

Meet Kiara.

She's the building dog. Now what's a 'building dog'? Simple - when you live in an apartment complex in Mumbai where space is a luxury and hence can't have a pet (other than goldfish or hamsters or such maybe) at home, you have what is called a building dog. What this means is that a random stray walks in; the NGOs come in and volunteer, vaccinate, spay, feed - not necessarily in that order - the said stray (and subsequent puppies, if the spaying was a little too late) which is collectively adopted by the kids in the apartment complex and becomes the building dog. Of course, said four-legged furry friend gets a name, gets food (it's now upped to Pedigree) and above all gets loads of love, cuddles and play dates with the same kids. Works well for all.

Kiara entered our lives roughly around seven-odd years ago, and has been the darling of all since. Of course, she's now getting along in doggy years (fifty plus, eh) and sadly, as with humans, age does tell on her. (She isn't acquainted with Botox, you see.) However, the pup she was seven years ago is more or less how she is even today: playful, frisky, loving, sweet... and always, always makes you feel special. It's amazing how she can chase away your tiredness as you park the car at the end of a long work day and crawl home with a wag of her tail, one tiny whimper and a soft nose gently nudged against the back of your palm. The only treat she looks out for is a head rub, a few words cooed to her and a pat or two. Rinse, repeat.

MY DAILY FIX

How many of you out there also need their daily fix (many, many) scoops of Nutella?

(No image while I take my own and upload it; dunno about all those scary copyrighted pictures floating around cyberspace.) Finally! Done!


Serving suggestion I:
1 slice of bread
1 banana
LOADS of Nutella
How-to:
Spread Nutella on to the slice of bread, this nice thick layer that ensures zero bread visibility. (No, no - I don't hate bread at all; just that Nutella should be seen - and eaten - and not heard.)
Chop up the banana and top the Nutella, uhhh, bread with these l'il circles.
EAT! Hee hee.


Serving suggestion II:
Know crepes? Yes? Great, how about a Nutella crepe then? Trust me, it just doesn't get better than that!


Serving suggestion III:
Have you tried Nutella with pancakes? Yeah, hot buttery 'cakes over which Nutella is drizzled? Do!


Serving suggestion IV:
1 JAR of Nutella
1 spoon (or fingers, if said cutlery is unavailable)
How-to:
Unscrew Jar of Heaven.
Dig in with the spoon (or finger).
Need I say more?


How do *you* eat your Nutella?


P.S.: In a saner world, I see you folks slowly shaking your heads in disbelief, and thinking about un-reading this blog, or hey... maybe there's more of us out there? Please say I'm not the only one who needs a daily fix? Please? Pleaseeeee....


P.P.S.: Did you know there's a World Nutella Day? *dances a happy dance*

COLOURS

WEEKEND UPDATE

So what're we doing this weekend?
Here's the complete list of ingredients:
The significant other - 1 nos.
Self - 1 nos.
The in-laws - 2 nos.
The significant other's nephew - 1 nos.
Car - 1 nos.
Packed overnight bags - 2 nos.
Sunscreen - 1 nos.
Beach gear - LOADS!

Watch this space for pictures of our weekend trip to the beach!

And... what does your weekend look like?

BREAKFAST!

Secret *snort* recipe:
One pancake mix (Betty Crocker is what I use)
Bananas
Honey to drizzle

How-to:
Follow instructions on box *snicker snicker*
Chop up bananas and artistically (ha ha) toss up on waffles
Drizzle over with honey
... EAT! :D

LEGAL...AND CAN'T DRINK!

As per this archaic new law we have, an Indian citizen can vote, is grown up enough (chronologically, if nothing else) to marry and generally has the right to say and do more or less as s/he pleases, as an adult well before the age of 25. ...All, that is, but consume alcohol. Yup, that's right - you need to be a grand old 25 before that booze bottle can touch your lips, 25 before you can blame everything on the alcohol.

What I'm seriously wondering is this: how will this new legal limit curb alcoholism, or the fallouts of loving the bottle more than one should? Will it really result in less road accidents, marital violence, substance abuse? For those vigorously nodding in the affirmative, all I can ask is how?! It's not going to happen 'for real', because the tipple's going to be available anyway: at home, at parties and other places I leave to your collective imaginations. Just because one needs to flash a 25-and-over ID while actually, physically buying booze, there's nothing that ensures it's not consumed before that age bar. Worse, this could result in kids hiding the fact that they drink from their folks, which has its own possibly grievous consequences. It simply means that what was legal up until now and generally done in the open, will now become a closeted activity, with repercussions all around.

So go on, vote, get married... but hey, you can't toast with champagne, remember!

FOR DAD

Remember the time Dad played chauffeur? All those play dates, rides to school, dance class, art class, Math lessons... Or days when it'd pour the proverbial cats and dogs, and Dad would drive you out in near zero visibility conditions just to have a hot corn-on-the-cob by the sea? How you'd feel its tangy lemony flavour hit your tastebuds even as you watched the rain safely ensconsed in the car, Dad by your side? How Dad could be counted upon to drive you anywhere, anytime, all you had to do was ask? Or sometimes, not even that - he'd just know, and you'd see him waiting patiently by the car, keys in hand.

Cut to the present, a rainy day in June 2011. Dad needs to get to work, and his car is at the service station. Solution? It's now *my* turn to drive in the pouring rain, drop Dad to work and then head on to office myself.

For Dad - for all those times he's been there, unconditionally.

THE NEW 20s

Apparently, the 30s are the new 20s. Is this merely something to make somebody in their 30s feel less fuddy-duddy? Ignore that annoying strand of grey that refuses to cow down under threat? Refer politely to the crows feet around the eyes as laugh lines?

Hah. A spade is a spade is a spade. Liked it better when I could still fill in 20-something on application forms/ questionnaries. Liked it better when the L'Oreal lady didn't try selling me something "for mature skin, ma'am". Arrrrrgggghhhh.

Just a ruse, really, just a ruse.

CAR-MA

Remember when you learnt to drive a car at 18 (or 16, depending on the legal age where you are)? Your first encounter with another vehicle (a cab, in my case) which swore you off driving for a bit? Feeble attempts made over subsequent years, more off than on? If yes... read on!

Finally, at the insistance of the significant other, I did get back down to driving. Initially, it seemed like he was inventing ways to torture poor not-so-little me, but given that for this project his will power was stronger than mine, I did get behind the wheel after all. No negotiation. The total sweetheart that he is, he went all out to buy me an automatic (yay!), making my journey (literally!) easier than it would've been, given Mumbai's horrific driving conditions at the best of times. Really, changing gears on a manual is NOT the best way to spend your time in this city. Estimate this: for a six kilometre (or about 3.72 miles) stretch from home to work, it takes me *only* 40 minutes - one way. Sigh.

This is what the newbie looks like:

TIP OF THE DAY

Always, always bring your camera (even a point-and-shoot will do) with you wherever you go. That way, you won't miss any photo op that comes your way.

Picture this (pun intended):
Mommy Cat strolling by with Teeny L'il Kitten caught securely between her jaws, being transported to someplace safe and cozy, away from the rain. Mommy Cat tires, puts down itty bitty kitty, licks it, comforts it, and then picks it gently back up. Rinse repeat, until safe harbour is reached. Awwwwwwww.

Well, guess who missed capturing this on cam? Yup, yours truly, because the point-and-shoot was HOME! Arrrrggghhhhhhhh! Will now need to furtively hunt for Ms Mommy & Family for some pics...

ON MOVIE REVIEWS

Dunno if it's just me, or is there zero quality to the movie reviews I read in the papers/ on the Net/ wherever else? This is what they normally read like:
Discuss the plot. In excruciating detail.
My take: I mean, c'mon! Had I wanted to read a synopsis, wouldn't I just go watch the damn film?! Why, why must the plot be disclosed virtually in entirety?

Next, the music score. This is either dissed or raved about. A song or two may be picked to the bone, especially if it's a typical Bollywood item number.
My take: Why, pray tell? Whatever happened to a fine discussion on the musical genre, the genius (if applicable) of the composer/ playback singers/ the acoustics at large?

Then, it's the turn of the cinematography. Direction. Production values. Background score. Technical aspects. Or wait... is it really?
My take: Where are these, for cryin' out loud? Why are these almost always forgotten?

For all those reviews out there, no, I don't wanna know the movie plot, I don't wanna know what actress X is wearing in item song Y, I don't wanna know how the story ends for goodness sake! What I would like to read about - seemingly impossible, I know - is an analysis more in depth, one that focuses more on the film making process, how it's translated on screen in that particular movie, and more information on the look and feel of the movie. Capiche?

CALORIE, YOU MEANIE!

Oh you empty calories - I do love you so! The better the food tastes, the nastier are the calories.

From bitter experience *sigh*, I've come to believe that it's an undisputable law. There are times when I'm convinced that my denims have shrunk, and I know it's the calories to blame for the darn shrinkage. I mean, what else could it be, right? There's no way that the jeans could've become tight...is there? *hushed silence*

POLITICS

Normally, I stay away from this topic. Several happy ways to do this:
Ignore the newspapers that come in every morning.
Switch telly channels the minute you come across a newsy one.
Slink away from conversations that are remotely related to said subject. (Honestly, talking to cactii would be more productive, am sure.)
Nod intellectually with a very knowledgeable look (practice, baby, practice) should you be unable to avoid such conversation, and then quickly change the conversation to say, knitting, or film gossip.

But the news these days, I tell you! There's a circus going on, in the guise of politics, and how. Everyone and his cousin wants in on the political pie, and has been doing their very best to jump in. It's official: the caravan's overstuffed now. It's soooo In.Your.Face, you'd have to be totally lame (and some) to miss it. Time to stop paying for DTH, eh! :D

ON MY KITCHEN SHELF

Really, nothing like a cheerful kitchen, given that the said place is not exactly my favourite hangout. I'd rather be reading a book.

DENTIST

The teeth have been acting up for the past few days now. By acting up, they've been sensitive and putting all these scary thoughts *whimper* about cavities in my head. Really, those little green bugs with fangs that dance in toothpaste commercials are so not cute when it comes to real life and real teeth. That's when I stop chortling and saying "oh, how sweet". Hrumph.

Call in the dentist!

There I am, reluctantly dragging my size 8 feet dentist-wards, hearing the drill go ZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz in my head, having mental images of green bugs wrecking havoc on my already-sensitive teeth. An agonizing wait later, I'm all togged up in a bright blue (what a cruel contrast; nothing can be that cheerful at the dentist's office really) cape, harsh overhead light shining into my eyes, and lying vulnerable on the chair... torture. (breathe in, breathe out) Doesn't help overmuch when the masked and gowned dentist peers in to my open mouth, brandishing the dreaded drill...

Turns out though, that I'd been overcautious to the point of paranoia, as there are no cavities *cheers* or other scary germs prowling around in Teeth Land. *whew*

The teeth are now clean and happy!

THE STORY OF EVOLUTION

Once upon a long time ago in Cell Phone Land, there lived an Alphacell.

Now this handset resembled a cell phone less, and a cordless land line phone more. However, it was the sweetest, meekest phone to roam the Earth, almost like its predecessor, the Argentinosaurus some 90 - 100 million years ago. It was harmless, and did its basic job well. You really couldn't complain.

But then, as with everything else, enter E-V-O-L-U-T-I-O-N. And that brought in the Nocya. And another Nocya. Actually, quite a few Nocyas. Now this new species wasn't as peaceful as the Alphacell; its behaviour was more along the lines of the Spinosaurus - it was everywhere, and eventually became the undisputed King of Cell Phone Land.

However, technology wouldn't rest easy, and soon the Nocyas were nudged by the So-Knees of the world, and suddenly, Cell Phone Land looked a much brighter, happier place. There were multiple new species, loads of attractive new features and so many shiny wonderful handsets to choose from. Life suddenly got complicated. Of course, the So-Knees weren't the last in the chain...

...And enter the Blueberrys and other fruits! If anyone was floored by the existing inhabitants of Cell Phone Land, the newbies took competition to a new level altogether. Suddenly, there were price wars (gasp!), swankier features being churned out before you could say 'Cell Phone', newer versions being introduced...you get it. Cell Phone Land was now super snazzy!

As one of those 'anonymous' quotes floating around goes: 'Life was much simpler when Blueberrys and other fruits were, well...just fruits'!

'EXCUSE, PLEASE ADJUST'

I'm really not a fan of the local trains.

People, enough to populate a tiny island somewhere, all crushed into one tin can labelled 'Andheri Local'.
Picture this: Four ladies cramped on to what is essentially a seat for three, when along comes Polly and says, "excuse, please adjust". Which means that the three afore-mentioned members of the fairer sex are to pack themselves into even smaller proportions to accomodate Number Four.

Those car keys? My best friends, I tell you!

DUDE, WHERE'S MY FRIDGE?

... And a gazillion rupee prize to anyone who can locate my fridge under all that!

ON MEDITATION

So woke up one morning and decided to start off with meditation. Experienced bliss. Hooked on for life. Hah! Now that would be a fib, and how!



This is actually how it started off.

Got introduced to this very warm and wonderful couple, aquaintances of the folks'. They are both deeply spiritual and religious, of course with both being mutually exclusive. (Which is what I like.) A few evenings at their place, some discussions on who we are, what are we doing here, what is our purpose in life...you get the drift. Basic questions, maybe, but every time you visit them, you have a different view, a different answer. Then of course, there's karma. Without going into a crash course on spirituality (I'll leave that for another post), discovered with them that it's plain and simple wonderful to sit quiet and meditate.

This is how I go about it:
Dimmed lights
Air conditioner on
Diffuser with some pleasant aromatherapy oil (my current favourite's cinnamon)
Favourite CD (instrumental/ chants)
So all you have to do is have the above organised. Yes, it's comfortable. Yes, it's convenient, and at my convenience. Even a 15-minute meditation, with just myself for company is good. Sure there are times (most times, to be honest) when it's difficult to not think about anything, or clear my mind of every little thought, but that's okay. It's okay to have the random thought flit by, but it's more important to focus on your breathing, and soothe your mind with the music/ chants. (See, that's why you pick something restful.)

One day, I may take this a notch higher, where I may not need the music to calm me, I may not need the diffuser to waft a soothing aroma and I may not need the AC on to feel good. Until then, however, my brand of meditation works!

Try it, do!

SRI LANKA IN PICTURES

Here you go:



And here's another:

HOLIDAY!

Or rather, celebrations.

So the significant other and I celebrated six years together last month. Not bad, given that see-saws and relationships are virtually synonimous, don't you think! Six years of marriage, six years of 'in sickness and in health' (which we did go through on the anniversary itself, seeing that we were both nursing the most goddawful colds!), six years of just being together. Okay, for those married/ in committed relationships for longer, I can imagine that six years is baby food, but do humour me here. :)

Holiday? Always good!
A surprise anniversary gift? Even better!

So the husband planned an (extended) weekend to Sri Lanka!

Here's a picture of beautiful Sri Lanka:

BREAKING NEWS!

Circa 1980s: Enter newsreader. Bright red lipstick and rouge: check. Chiffon saree impeccably pinned to shoulder: check. Hair perfectly coiffed: check. Tight smile on face: check.
News read out deadpan. Nothing is too sensational, awe-inspiring, nail-biting or demands any sort of reaction, really. Minister so-and-so loses election. A facial muscle twitch should do it. Floods in x part of the world. A facial muscle twitch should do it. International honour bestowed on classical singer. A facial muscle twitch should do it.

2011: Enter newscaster. Flawless (if overdone) makeup: check. Business suit (with the brand flashing on ticker): check. Poker-straight hair: check. Expression on face: Can't say, really.
After all, it's all about the breaking news. OMG celeb so-and-so chipped a nail while at the spa today. Breaking news! The darling of all party circuits caught in an MMS scandal. Breaking news! Cricket season begins. Breaking news! A tree fell and blocked traffic for 2.5 hours. Breaking news! Mrs A from Apt. 4B in my apartment building chopped veggies for lunch today. Breaking news!

Really, now! Is there ANY sanctity left to the news at all?!

DREAMS

So is it considered an omen - good or bad - to dream about snakes? About those whom you loved but are no longer with you? About those who are alive, but you dream are dead? About magic (the Potter variety; not black)? About flying? About falling down? About so many myriad things, and in such a manner that on waking you're not able to separate dream from reality for a grand old moment there?
Maybe that's why people have dreamcatchers. Hmmm.

MR MOUCH

In the garden!

FOOD FOR THE GODS

Or at least, for me. Yummmmmmmmmm!

HIATUS

Apologies!
Loads to say, not so much time. :( Will be back soon.

THE BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER

With love from the significant other. Couldn't've asked for more.

QUACK!

Step 1: Go to Chandigarh.
Step 2: Drive down to Sukhna Lake. Evenings preferable.
Step 3: Park car, get down and walk to the lakeside. And walk some more.
Step 4: Spot ducks/ geese, like this: "Ah, look! There's a duck/ goose!"
Step 5: Wait for friendly neighbourhood (rather, lakeside) kid to stop by with paper cones full of peanuts. (Doesn't take too long.)
Step 6: Ask price of peanuts. Go bug-eyed at the sheer robbery, but buy anyway. (Look longingly at the ducks/ geese, and kiss your chances of haggling on price good-bye.)
Step 7: Shell out kid's asking price. Grab paper cone.
Step 8: Get attacked by (seemingly perpetually) hungry ducks/ geese.
Step 9: Unravel paper cone in haste. Toss peanuts to said quackers.(Else risk getting attacked to the accompaniment of obnoxiously loud quacking.)
Step 10: Pose for photograph(s).

ON A WING AND A PRAYER

The new year brings with it aspirations, hope, prayers for a good beginning. Would be nice not to see so much gore on the telly, gruesome news in the papers, and overall, less violence in the world. (None at all would be too much to ask for, right, so let's keep it real.)

Gods and politicians, are you listening?

TEENY TINY BUGS

... Courtesy the incessant Mumbai rains! :(

To say nothing of:
the damp
the fungus
the doggy-out-in-the-wet smell on things
the resultant cleaning up around the house!

And here I am, someone who normally loves the rains!

Oh, for a spot of sunshine...

UNTITLED

Those endless nights, full of darkness.
It's only your love that shows me the light.

Those times I think that despair will kill me.
It's only your love that keeps me alive.

Your voice fills me, permeates the silence.
It's only you I want to hear.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRIEND!

Spoke to a friend today. Initially, it was a birthday wish, but am hoping it made the said friend's day as much as it did mine. Put a smile on my face, really. What did we speak about? Nothing earth-shattering, nothing that is of importance globally. More importantly, it was topics of conversation that made the both of us happy, and glad that we did touch base. It's not often that we speak - yet! (it's a newly forged friendship, you see) - but catching up is always fun. The SMSes that fly back and forth are snippets of conversation in themselves. Hmm, contentment.

Why do I write this post? No, it's not to make the friend get a feel of 'oh, look - I write about you just to flatter you'; neither does it have to do with wanting anyone else to feel that way. What I'm pleasantly surprised is about the fact that you find friends in the most unlikely places, under the most unlikely circumstances. About meeting said friend: a business meeting with a fair number of others, but somehow seem to hit it off with just this one person. A quick promise to keep in touch (did I mention that we live in different cities?), and which we stuck to, saw us swap contact information, led us to explore a tentative new friendship. Safe to say that on the friend front, this is a good place to be!

P.S.: Here's wishing you a wonderful year ahead, friend! You know who you are!

SPRING CLEANING

Dunno about spring, really, but got a spot of cleaning done today... Take that, evil dust mites!

Behind the refrigerator, the newspaper hamper, under the cupboards and the bed, the kitchen cabinets cleaned on the inside, the drapes, carpets and furniture vacuumed... I'm quite the proud houseowner at the moment. (Deserve a diamond tiara, too, methinks. Or at the very least, a ring.)

Clean, yes, but if I'm to look at the time - the best part of Sunday's vanished in the hum of the vacuum cleaner, the swish of the dustcloth. Still on the agenda: a trip to the supermarket to buy a week's worth of veggies and fruits.

Whoever said the working (and married) girl's life was easy? Stories to share, anyone?

TO THE RICE COOKER...

... What would I do without you?

Turn back the clock to a few years ago, when the kitchen was entirely alien territory to yours truly. (The hubby not-so-quietly opines that some things don't change, but that's for another post.) Had the BFF over to lunch one afternoon, and the trusting Mum left me to my own devices whilst she popped over to the market on her jaunt for veggies. One request she made was "put the rice on, three whistles should do it, before you can turn it off". Days of the pressure cooker, these. Uh-huh, so I look at the clock, turn on the gas stove and wait for the rice to happily cook itself. Some time later, and with no response in terms of the three promised whistles, am wondering what to do. Just then, the BFF walks in, and is informed of my query. Horrified, she learns that I've not put in any water in the cooker itself - turns out it's a situation (quite literally) waiting to explode! Seems you need to have water not only in the rice vessel itself, but also in the cooker... whew!

Today, my love affair with my rice cooker begins. No pressure cookers for me, but swear by this multi-purpose (it even steams veggies!) rice cooker instead.

Basic rice:

1 portion rice

2 portions water

Salt, butter/ ghee to taste (if you want to)

All you have to do is plug in the rice cooker and wait for the fragrant aroma to waft past... and that's it! Enjoy the rice!

THE TWILIGHT SAGA

So it's my latest obsession... move over, Harry Potter!

POP THE CHAMPAGNE!

It's that time of the year again, ladies and gentlemen, when we pop the bubbly to celebrate another year of togetherness... a.k.a. marriage in some circles.
Decided to take stock of the last year, suggested we make it a fun 'you and me together' exercise. Disdainful looks from the significant other put those plans to rest...
... Still planning, wondering how to spend the day... A pleasant surprise holiday by way of elections in the city is only adding to the happiness!

Watch this space!

HMPH!

And that is the husband's idea of decorating my birthday cake this year. *rolling eyes in head* Really, now!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, WORLD!

Remember when we'd counted down to the year 2000. The Y2K bug was something stores here took rather literally: I wound up purchasing this little plushie, a cheerful caterpillar in blue-yellow-blue-yellow (you get the drift...), all togged out in a perky red hat and green shoes, with '2000' printed across it.

Some eight-odd years , the caterpillar remains, and we head towards another year... Let's see what this one brings.

RECAP

Events at work.
Stress. Worry. Resolutions.
Birthdays. Anniversaries. Celebrations at home.
Fights. Arguments. Disagreements. Differences of opinion. Making up.
All this and more went into 2008.

The New Year's around the corner.

IN MEMORIUM

Miss you, Azoba.
I sometimes marvel at the relationship we had... Spent most of my time being in awe of you; you always seemed so much larger than life. You fascinated me with stories of your travels and the exotic places you'd visited: I'd look forward to your visits with Ajji, wide-eyed, and waiting to see pictures. Pictures that transported me to where you'd just been, whether it was seeing the peacocks gracefully picking their way along your backyard, or your ginger cat Laalu. Your steel-gray Nissan (which was a dream!) with you at the wheel, smiling into the camera, your eyes all crinkly and bright.
As I grew up, the awe turned into admiration for all you'd done, for what you'd become. Walking along the roads of your hometown, standing in front of the dilapidated block of flats you stayed in - Mum showed us our roots. And what strong roots they are, with you always having been firmly grounded in reality.
I'm sure your world with Ajji today is as vibrant and multi-hued as this one with us was. I won't even start to say that I miss you so.

Happy birthday.

NOVEMBER

It's all about the memories.

It's odd how while pleasant, they can bring a tear to your eye. Even while you're reminiscing about time well spent in the company of people you love, how a sliver of memory slinks in to your consciousness and brings with it a small sharp stab of pain. How you wish you could turn back the time, have just that one more day with the person you love. How you wish that they were near you.

Maybe they are. Maybe they're just looking down at you, you who are encompassed in their eternal love.

I'll be thinking about this all through November.

FIRECRACKERS!

Umm, I share a love-hate relationship with these, really.

Just don't like the loud sounds. Or the smoke. Or the smog that just envelopes the air. The green me wakes up around this time, and grumbles to anyone who'll listen about the gasping, wheezing environment. I swear that the world around is shrouded in depressed stale air.

Now here's the love part: firecrackers signal the festive season. Colours. Family. Friends. Food. What's not to like?

Green versus human nature. Ergo, we fence sit.

OF BIRTHDAYS AND THINGS

Have always enjoyed having a birthday from the time that I can remember.

Sharing a birth month with my sibling meant that we'd have a combined birthday party - twice the number of friends, cakes, presents (interesting!) and double the fun as well! Birthdays while growing up meant a party at home with Mum and Dad planning everything weeks in advance, painstakingly working on the menu, the invitee list and sundry other details, just to ensure that we kids had the perfect birthday. Home-made savoury snacks, desserts and the ubiquitous cake, chips and soft drinks, games such as musical chairs and passing-the-parcel, streamers, buntings and balloons adorning the walls, paper plates and towels, plastic spoons and glasses, the last-minute preparations and running around... And there we'd be on the selected evening, blowing out the candles, cutting cake, and smilingly receiving the presents (and wondering just when they could be opened!), eating, playing games and pressing return presents into our friends' hands.

Those were the days, when birthday parties were put together and not manufactured. When it wasn't about the commercialism but the feeling. When life wasn't just about greeting cards and fast food chains and birthday party organisers.

THIS ONE'S FOR RAAVAN

It's Dusshera time, and I see people getting ready to burn effigies of Raavan almost everywhere I go. Of course, you do know that this stems from the Ramayana, wherein, to cut and long (and very interesting!) story short, it was necessary for Lord Rama to defeat Raavan and bring peace to the land (among other things). In short, it was a battle to the finish, of good versus evil.

Naturally, Lord Rama, being the good guy (and I'm not even disputing the fact!) has always been portrayed to be the epitome of the ideal man, while Raavan, on the other hand, being evil, is dark and somewhat sinister. There are seemingly very few positive attributes that are associated with his character.

Here's where I beg to differ: it is possible to look at Raavan in a new light? It is possible to see him as a more complex, layered individual? Is it possible to add a few gray facets to his character, and view him as a more rounded person? Is it possible to not just tarnish him with black, but paint him as more real?

Maybe this applies to the Raavan in all of us.

HEY BABY!

Flashback to the time back in school, when we’d sit at your kitchen window, sampling yummy stuff courtesy your mum’s culinary skills… To the time when we’d swap books to read, and discuss the characters like they were friends… And also to the time when we figured babies were not our most favourite topic of discussion!!

Cut to the present. Clichéd but true – how I’d love to be there at this special time in your life, when you’re probably still sitting at a kitchen window (this time, your own), maybe reading a book…. A baby book. (So how many people have had you read ‘What to expect when you’re expecting’?) Now, when a baby is so eagerly awaited, a precious l’il gift already so wanted and loved!

Wish you loads and loads of fun times with Baby! May each day bring with it wonderful moments that you’ll forever cherish.
Here’s to you, Mommy!
Hugs,
Vaijxxxxxxx

P.S: So do you regret not having figured out how to knit from back in high school?

TO A FRIEND

Good thought. And scary, too, in a way. You made me think...

Does this mean that we don't have the time to take a moment and look at what's important to us anymore? Is it that the world is spinning so crazily, and we're hanging on for dear life, fighting to make sure we don't fall off the carousel? Sure, the economy and its state of health do impact the world, but what about closer to home?

So you're going to be 62 in 14 years time. (Hmm, am not getting any younger myself! :) Looking back now, have you achieved (most of) what you'd set out to do? (No, attaining Nirvaana needn't be part of the list!)
Have you enjoyed the time you've been blessed with - spending it with people you love and value the most; your parents, spouse and child? Scarily enough, there may be a day when, if you sit back and take stock, there's so much more you could've done.

Made their lives - and yours - so much richer, more fulfilling, with the smallest act: a monsoon evening spent on the verandah, drinking tea and taking in the sight and smell of the rain; an afternoon spent with your child, dabbling in paint and colours; a day catching up with an old friend, maybe via good old snail mail.

Time to wake up, smell the coffee, and take stock of our lives, don't you think? You don't want the big picture taking away moments that could've been precious memories to be cherished in the years to come.

PIN-DROP SILENCE

So much so, that I've been moving in a daze between work and home. Work, and then some more more. Home, clubbed with nerve-wracking traffic en route. Tumble sleepily into bed, and wake up to the same routine.

Need a day that is 'blank', devoid of any activity, thoughts or what-have-yous. A day dedicated to pin-drop silence (something we never did manage to achieve in school, in spite of the teachers' pleas). Bliss!

ABOUT HARRY POTTER. OR JK ROWLING

Enid Blyton
Richmal Crompton
Carolyn Keene
Franklin W. Dixon
...Take a bow!

It's their books I grew up on as a child/ pre-teen, and followed up on my love for reading with a gazillion books from so many talented authors as I grew older. It's been a long and fascinating journey with the books, always one of discovery and happiness at having found a new friend.

So what does this have to do with Harry Potter? Am I rambling on (as usual)? No. Yes. Maybe! The thing is, while a book may have stayed on in the memory, it's not always that an author has, unless associated with a specific book, if you know what I mean. See, like if you say Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell immediately comes to mind. Ditto Stephen King should you holler The Shining. Now here is where Harry Potter comes in. Or rather, JK Rowling does. The books are so magical (yes, I can hear so-JRR Tolkein-meets-Enid Blyton!), so unreal (yet real), so mystical...and yet they make you want to believe in everything that's written on every one of those pages. You can't help wonder whether you know, these things actually happen in real life (as we know it). So here's the thing. I guess Rowling's brought alive the child/ teen in me. After all, who said that fantasy is only for people in the single digit age-group? A little bit of fairy dust and magic works for us all!

SEPTEMBER GARDEN

September's a happy month.
Here's why:
First and foremost, it's Mum's birthday month. That in itself makes it special, because Mum's super special. (A separate post will see me go into raptures about Mum sometime.) But hey, do think about it - doesn't your Mum make your day? If you live together, or close by, a smile, a hug, or even a few quick words (or gossip!) exchanged can do it. If you live a distance away, or your Mum's that extra-shiny star in the sky, even a memory can do the trick. Anything, really, because Mums are always, always there.

Next, my window box flowers bloom. They're finally not rain-soaked anymore, neither are they gasping for breath (and water) like they do in the scorching hot summer. They're in that happy plant-world balance of good food, sunlight, shade and just that occasional rain shower. If you look closely, when it rains in September, it's almost as if the flowers are reaching out daintily to the sky, their delicate faces uplifted to capture that tiny sparkling jewel-like rain drop. Beautiful.

While on the rains, let me tell you that for someone with hair that can at best be (politely) described as frizzy on a good day, the fact that we're slowly inching towards sunshine is goooooooood. No more bad hair life, never mind days. Honestly, HOW can those waif-thin (Another grouse. Hmph.) models look all hot and sultry with rain-soaked hair, pray tell?! I can manage a frumpy and mouse-like, and that takes a lot of effort. Else, we're talking clumpy and we-have-given-up-on-life strands that stringily stick to the scalp. *whimper*

Plus, we're inching closer to November. Dunno why, but just love November. Maybe it's the sound of the word, I dunno. But November it is, as far as the best month of the year goes. You know, it's just one of those random things, like lucky numbers and the sort. But back to September...

Also, come September (Ah the old movies!), it's the advent of the festive season in India. It's from here on that we move into new clothes/ fairy lights/ scrumptious food/ magic mode. Pure bliss.

Yay, it's September!

EIGHT-EIGHT-EIGHTY

This is for my BFF, whose birth date this is. (She now has her baby son to share her birthday, too!)

Schoolmates since grade seven, we never did speak while at school, moving in different circles as we did. A tentative friendship was struck when on the suggestion of our tutor, we walked to and fro from French class, seeing that we lived down the road from each other. Initial hesitation and awkward conversations gave way to an amicable walk to class, exploring topics of discussions other than French verbs. Slowly, we'd spend evenings post class and homework together, with me hollering for her outside her window. She'd pop in the window, either inviting me upstairs to her home, or skip downstairs for a stroll along our tree-lined street. We grew up, sharing our fears, hopes, dreams and aspirations. And so the friendship was forged...

Growing up saw us apply for the same college, and become batch mates all over again. Schoolgirl giggles made way for college girl banter, boy talk and shared secrets: some of which we laugh over today! And so the friendship grew even stronger...

Nostalgia hit hard and it was tough to contain the tears, not just for me, but for her too, as she got married and moved away. From having the best friend so close by that she could dash across to comfort me when I was particularly low, or for us to go shopping together, or share her happiness, this stage was one full of mixed emotions.

Years later, with both of us married and leading lives with our significant others, two things have remained constant: the geographical distance, and our friendship. Would love to have the former change, with us being neighbours again someday. As for the latter, there are some things that are sheer perfection and needless to say, should remain unchanged... Touch wood!

LAZY SATURDAYS

... Are now passe. However, am not really complaining about working weekends, it's a good feeling to sink my teeth into something new and challenging! Moving up the corporate ladder, getting into a new role, planning and growing with a new team - it's a wonderful new world!

DRUNK ON HAPPINESS!

Life's little lesson learnt: You can be drunk on nothing but happiness! It's the best non-alcoholic high... EVER!

MOVING CITIES... ALMOST

So this is really from 2004, when the significant other and I had decided to spend our lives together, come summer 2005. And all was well. Almost. The thing is, while I was happily living in Mumbai city, he was some xyz miles (I can NEVER get distances right; I'm hopelessly geographically challenged.) away in the far away land of New Delhi.

Now the thing is, Mumbai is well, Mumbai. For someone who's lived here all her life, moving cities to India's capital city is not the easiest (or most palatable) of ideas to fathom. Anyway, so moving being in the name of love and all, wasn't much of an option - like extracting a rotten tooth, it had to be done. And there started my numbered days in Mumbai.

First things first, then. Mumbai is synonymous with the sea, the beaches, the gorgeous monsoon. Had my fill of them all - spent solitary evenings by the sea, just taking it all in, almost as if to absorb it for a lifetime. Took long walks on the beach; oh the feel of the soft cool sand between my toes, waves lapping at my ankles! Deep breathfuls of the salty, tangy air. My own little heaven, to be assimilated and imprinted on my mind.

The almost in the subject line that you see? Well, Somebody up there loves me - barely was the engagement ring on my finger and the congratulatory messages pouring in, that one which made my world even more perfect came in: the fiance was transferred (for good) to Mumbai on work!

Mmmmmmm-hmmmmmm....so it's now the both of us, taking those walks by the sea, breathing in the wonderful salty air in tandem...and building castles together.

GOODBYE, GRANDPA

It's been five years now; but still just doesn't feel like it.

Seems like I've just spent a holiday with you and am heading back home, only to see you soon. Every visit, when I'd walk out your door, after that one last hug, I'd look back, wishing time would stop still. I'd wish that it were time for the next vacation already.

That last time we met, that last hug we exchanged. Even though it took all your strength, all you could do was wish us well, thinking about us, that 'God bless' was the last thing I heard you say to me. And that we shouldn't worry about you. Didn't know it would be the very last hug you'd give me, or that it would be the last time I'd see you.

Memories are all I'm left with. The pain just doesn't go away.

GROWIN' UP

Not sure that i'm a fan of the growing up fanchise, really. There's responsibility, people interested in what you do, how you do it, when you do it. There's this virtually permament glare fixed onto you, especially by those in authority.

*grumble*

PUPPY LOVE!

GARDENING GLOVES

I love my little window box garden. There's nothing as soothing as waking up (even if it's not too bright and early!) and looking out the window at the myriad colours vying for your attention. Occasionally, we're hosts to tiny little birds that we don't even recognise; butterflies too. Pottering about on weekends, happily convincing myself I have a green thumb or two, can spend a nice bit o'time digging away... followed, of course, by a nice hot mug of coffee.

Dunno about anything else, really, but there's one thing I've learnt: plants make you happy!

INTRODUCING TED THE TURTLE

Meet Ted. He's been with us a few weeks now, and makes one cute l'il (and I mean little!) pet.
Moves fast - whoever said 'as slow as a turtle'? - and is rather grouchy when you pick him up.
Hello, Ted.

MONDAY BLUES

Want to stay home and enjoy the rain.
Want to get done a million things that I'd planned to do over the weekend, and didn't get down to doing.
Want to take a break from things, sit back, breathe easy and enjoy my space.

Goodbye, weekend. Hello, Monday.

HERE COMES THE RAIN!

Rich earth, the smell permeating your lungs. Flame of the Forest, laburnum and rain flowers jostling to display their fiery colours. A darkened sky, the rain beating down...
... The Gods have conspired to create the perfect magical rainy day!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Mum,
A friend for life.

All those times that...
She's kissed away wounds (from scraped knees to broken hearts) Made your favourite food just because
Given advice just when you needed it the most
Helped with your homework
Guided you, helped you take those hesitant first steps
Always been there for you, loving you unconditionally

Love you, Mum!

NOTCH UP ANOTHER YEAR...

We're a year older today!

Happier? Yes!

Content? Yes!

Regrets? No!

Guess we're doing good! Happy anniversary to my significant other!

CHEERS!

We're celebrating three years of togetherness.

Three years, more happy than otherwise.

Three years, some wonderful moments and memories to cherish.

... A good feeling, this!

TOGETHERNESS

May 10, 2008

Happy Anniversary... Here's to many more years of togetherness!

We love you, Mum and Dad!

SO I'VE SINNED!

Groan. Ate more than I should have of that deelish chocolate brownie. Or two. And did I mention the chocolate sauce? The nuts? The smooth cold texture of the vanilla ice-cream as it whispered down my throat?

Really, it did call out to me, said my name over and over. Now, you don't disappoint friends, do you? Ahh... say it's okay!

BABY TALK!

Bring in the best friend. Add her (then) three year old daughter.
The following conversation ensues:
The phone rings.
Friend (F): Hello?
At the other end's her hubby.
Hubby (H): Hi.. how's your day going?
Daughter (D): Mommy, who's that on the phone?
F: Papa.
D: Oh! I want to talk! I want to talk!
F gives D the phone.
D: (Very tentative) Hello...
Pause.
Then, in a VERY loud aside to F, which H can obviously hear:
D: But Mommy, which Daddy's phone is it?

OF GODDESSES & QUEENS

I simply love the concept that Indian goddesses are alive, deep in meditation atop a hill, possibly holed up in a smallish cave that's impossible for a human to access.

Just spent the past weekend trudging up one such mountain top, a 16-odd kilometer walk-crawl that was seemingly endless, but so worth the cold, thin air and breathlessness. Okay, so I now have muscles I didn't even know existed, that are making their presence felt rather vociferously. Unrelenting.

Ah, it's a long way to go towards even a modicum of spirituality.

LAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZY

The dictionary meaning be as it may, I'm almost embarrassed to think that the adjective now applies to me. Been ages since a blog post, ages since I tried anything creative (I'm talking paints, canvas and a brush here) on a weekend, been ages since I did anything fun for myself.

Time to change, methinks.
Decoupage is the latest rage.
Blogging is now back with a bang!
Artsy stuff is on the anvil.

I'm back to life!

CHILLIN'

Literally. It's around 9.4 degrees, and cold, by Mumbai standards. A good feeling, this, all tucked up, toasty warm in a quilt, sipping on a mug of coffee. :)

Sometimes, life doesn't get better than this!

BIRTHDAY CAKE!

Had some really delish cake, the sibling turned a year older. (Don't know how much the latter part of the statement would be appreciated!)

It's a month for birthdays, February seems to be fairly popular. More updates soon.

ONE WEDDING, A SANGEET CEREMONY & LOADS OF COLD

Taking up where Mr Frosty left off, the North Indian winter just doesn't seem to understand that it's time for it to recede, not intensify at the end of January. Consequently, spent one cold day that led into an even colder evening.

The title's pretty clear - we went to multiple functions, initially dolled up in diamonds and silk, to end the evening wrapped snug in an exquisite Pashmina shawl, in a valiant (and fairly unsuccessful, I might add) attempt to keep the cold at bay.

Made a new friend, wished well to the old - here's to you, Siddharth and Becks!

More on this soon!

HELLO, MR FROSTY

Not too sure about this cold thing. It's been between 1.6 and 2 degrees celcius the past couple of nights. Woke up at the ungodly hour of four in the a.m. to catch a train to Agra. Breathed in the Taj Mahal later in the day, but that's another story. Or blog. Or two. We're cheering tonight, seems the good ol' mercury's deigned to up itself by a couple of degrees.

Never mind the food, bring in the coffee and the moisturiser. And oh, don't forget the strawberry flavoured lip balm.

AWAY FROM HOME

Plan holiday. Book tickets. Go shopping. Get organised. Pack. Realise you've packed everything but the kitchen sink hence no space in luggage. Grumble. Unpack. Grumble. Repack. Fret-fume-done. Go on holiday.

Day 1: Have a good time.

Day 2: Still having a good time.

Day 3: Ho-hum. Not bad.

Day 4: Wanna go home!!!

Homesickness sets in quick! So much for the holiday; somebody put me on a flight back home!

BIRDS AND THE BEES

Wonder why discussions pertaining to the birds and the bees are taboo in some (or is it many?) societies? Wouldn't you rather raise an aware and educated child rather than one who is ignorant, has inaccurate information and consequently may have to go through pain and heartache - God forbid - at a later stage? Granted, you cannot protect a child forever from the world, but as a responsible adult, you can help minimise the pain that he/ she may unfortunately go through. More so, proper and timely education when imparted is very obviously the key to the solution. Why do we behave like the proverbial ostrich, sticking our heads in the sand, oblivious to everything around us? Ignoring a problem is not the solution, doing so only festers the growth and definitely does not make it go away. In a world wherein the HIV spread is rapidly on the rise, teenage pregnancies are rampant, why do we choose to sit in our ivory towers and gloss over the issue?

I'd think it's time we woke up to an educated world. It's the only way to save our children, and safeguard our future.

RING IN THE NEW!

Happy New Year!

RING OUT THE OLD!

So another year draws to an end.

Smile recalling the good times.
Wince over the bad.
Will do better in the New Year, I say.

Resolutions, anyone?

KISS THE COOK!

So I'm now learning a new skill: How to Enter the Kitchen and Whip Up a Meal 101.

It's not such a bad thing, you get this creative satisfaction out of having started off with some random ingredients that finally turn into something that looks (and is!) both attractive and edible. (No, I don't appreciate wisecracks about how it's good that a hospital is in close proximity, thank you very much.)

My personal favourite is anything that doesn't take up the best part of an afternoon, and that still looks like it has been created after a lot of effort! *grin*

On the menu tonight:
Thai Pad Noodles
Waldorf Salad
Chocolate Brownies
(Coffee for afters, do stop by!)

NOVEMBER

Thirty days hath September,

April, June, and November

February has twenty-eight alone,

All the rest have thirty-one.

Except in leap year, that's the time

When February days have twenty-nine.

Mum taught me the rhyme way back when I was in the single-digit age group, and it has stayed... Now's also the time we're inching close to the New Year; how time does fly! (Need to figure out where that one originated!)

REALITY BITES

As with other programming on Indian television these days, I'm soon going to start cribbing about reality television too. There's only so much you can take of singing competitions, dance shows and sundry other what-have-yous. At one point, like with caves (what?!), if you've seen one, you've seen them all.

And then coming to how fair they are. I have some serious doubts there. As is often debated, I really believe a strong cell phone network in the participants' respective hometowns combined with great SMS power can safely see them through. After all, what does actual talent have to do with it? Jazz up a motley group of participants, throw in a free makeover or two, fling on the glad rags, and there you go - you have a star in the making. Never mind that the said individual cannot sing his or her way out of the oft-used paper bag.

Have SMS, will win!

INSPIRATION

Takes many forms, this one. Has many sources, too. That which helps you think better, and maybe even do better is the one to give a thumbs-up to, right?

Look around, you mayn't even have to look far: It can be something, however small, right in your home even. Or a person. A grandparent, a parent, a sibling. For those flaunting wedding rings, maybe a spouse.

Things mostly look good.

TERRIBLEPHONESERVICE.COM

So much for communication. A mobile phone company can be loads of trouble, I've learnt.

Dial the supposed helpline... Listen to a tinny voice, ear-splitting hold music... and dial:

1 for billing details.

2 for special offers.

3 for latest updates.

4 for caller tunes.

What about a number that connects you to a real, live human?