Creativity at its best !!!

Seen in the washroom of one of the food joints in Melacca, creativity or rather a practical example of 'Necessity is the mother of inventions'. This chopstick is a trailblazer of sorts, it surely has been to places where no other chopstick has ever been before and done things that no other chopstick has done before :-D...

My initiation into the world of hi-fashion : How to buy sunglasses

As a decent time has now elapsed since this incident it is quite safe to place the facts before my public. This took place in Boston, whilst I was holidaying in the US. When it was nearing the time to pack my bags to return to India, my host (we shall call her Akka throughout the remainder of the post) used to leave the house every morning with the following instructions ”Go out and see the place if you must, but please don’t BUY anything, your mum will ban me from entering your house in India”. I really had shopped so much that I had to sit on the suitcases to zip them close. I’ll have you know that I purchased a few bags and shoes, my only hinderance from buying a few more and better brands was my meagre supply of USD, at my salary there is only so much that I can afford, sniff, sniff.

All that I'm about to type is sach and 100% sach ke siwa kuch nahi milord!!!

Akka and I were out shopping for sunglasses. As a rule I abhor sunglasses, in the past sunglasses + my eyes = horrible-case-of-stye-which-lasted-a-painful-month, conversely I avoid sunglasses like the plague. I will have you know that I have a long list of allergies, for e.g: I'm allergic to papayas, they too give me styes, then there are few funny allergies like the allergies to groups of insects, my nose itches like itching were going out of fashion and the other funny allergy being this sunglasses allergy. Don't for a moment think that I must have owned chalu quality sunglasses (I was born a brand horse) and have only ever owned the best brands of sunglasses, but every time I went out in the hot sun with the glasses on, the very next day my eyes puffed up and lo and behold I had a bad case of eye infection. If you have been a regular follower of this blog you'll know that this year has been all about busting taboos that I've lived by, so I decided that maybe, just maybe this sunglasses allergy was something of a coincidence and nothing else.

I had made it known to all and sundry that I planned on buying a pair of sunglasses and the experts at buying sunglasses condescended on me to help me pick out the right pair. I told them my sob story of how in addition to giving me eye infection the said sunglasses would not stay propped up on my head, like the ones worn by the stylish ladies in them fashion magazines, you know, the ones with huge logos down the side that hold back the lady’s beautiful tresses. In most cases the sunglasses was used more like an expensive HAIRBAND, but who was I to complain. In my case the minute I tried to prop them on my head they slipped, I got a big head, before you start commenting on the amount of brain matter I possess, I would like to state that there may be something in what my detractors call me “Swollen Head”, but I digress.

I told them of my modus operandi while buying sunglasses:

1) Enter shop

2) Try on a few branded sunglasses

3) Zoom in on a pair that has a sensible frame, offering maximum eye coverage, UV protection, etc

4) Pay and leave

And I had the experts, shaking their heads and saying to one another “Aah, that’s where you are going wrong, love, you got the wrong technique”. I was appalled, “Wrong Technique”, hoping for enlightenment I looked at them earnestly and the Gods relented.

The correct technique to buying sunglasses according to them was as follows:

1) Enter shop

2) Try the sunglasses on the top of your head

3) Zoom in on a pair which fitted your cranium perfectly while maximising exposure to the brand logo running down the length of the frame.

4) Pay and Leave

5) P.S. Eye Coverage and UV protection were things the makers of the sunglasses worried about and not something I needed to worry my pretty head with...

With this crash course on how-to-shop-for-sunglasses in my kitty, I entered Sunglass Hut and began trying on the sunglasses with gusto, all this while Akka was busy trying to pretend she wasn’t with me. This charade went on for a while and the shop attendant who was a mute spectator all along decided she just had to step in to help this poor desi who didn’t know how to buy sunglasses. She drawled “Sweetheart, you try the sunglasses on your eyes and not on your head” and Akka almost passed out laughing.

FYI, I bought a pair of sunglasses and happy to announce, been using them for the past six months and have remained stye free.

Cricket Mania...

Image sourced from here : http://www.prlog.org/10344187-worlds-first-free-online-cricket-game-howzatcom.html

Its quite surprising that the Cricket World Cup hasn't affected my sensibilities this time round, I guess I have matured enough to realise that its just a game and there isn't any need for me to get excited about twenty two men, six stumps, four bails, two bats and a ball. Though I must add that yours truly had once been a die-hard cricket fan, who burned the mid-night oil to watch matches being played in weird time-zones, my mom maintains that if I had that level of dedication towards my exams I might have ended up differently, but I digress. Cricket has been a source of euphoria, heartache and amusement,  I say amusement because of the things people do to ensure their side wins which can range from the hilarious to the downright stupid!!!

Case Study 1:

My friend's husband is a die hard cricket fan to such an extent that when his side is losing or being walloped by the opposition he just can't watch it...but ask him to switch the TV off and he will give you a look as though you just asked him to commit harakiri. Instead he keeps the TV on in the living room, paces around in the Study and every now and then tip toes back to the living room to see if the situation has improved.

Then there is also the superstition that kicks in around all important matches, take for instance the latest India-Australia match in the World Cup 2011. He fixed himself a drink declaring "This is too stressful... I need a drink". After a while he noticed that every time he kept the drink on the coffee table India lost a wicket, so the brave soldier did what every true son of the soil would do in a crisis situation, he put the country's needs above his own and kept holding the glass in his hand... the only hiccup to the soldiering arose when the liquid that he had ingested decided "twas time to leave"...will leave the rest to your imagination...

Case Study 2:

My friend's uncle is one of the biggest cricket fans you can find on the sub-continent. At the workplace he is a force to be reckoned with, but as a cricket fan he quite hopeless and as superstitious as the next bloke. Way back in 1999 when she was visiting them during the annual summer vacations and the seventh edition of the World Cup was being hosted by England. She recounts being entertained by a fine display of near child-like behaviour in a sensible grown man. If during a match he sat in a particular pose and the batsman hit a six the pose was maintained at the risk of having to visit a chiropractor!!!

Also if by chance her aunt came into the room and a wicket was lost, her aunt was banned entry to the living room till the end of the match!!!

My initiation into the world of hi-tech gizmos : How to buy a Blackberry

This post is on popular demand, rather my one and only fan, Paccashaana asked me to put it up so doing it lest I lose her as well...

It all began when my trusty Nokia which also happens to be the first phone I bought myself (with my khoon pasine ki kamai, if you must know) way back in 2005 started developing an attitude. Incidently I blew up the entire full and final settlement I received at my last company (now you know what peanuts I was paid at the job and why I left it) to buy myself this phone and was mighty pleased with it. At that time the dealmaker was the fact that it was "phone with a flap" you know the cool phones which you flick open to receive and make calls, a muted brown in colour (I hate bling), compact and quite sturdy. Throw in the added advantage of FM radio and a something mega pixel camera and the salesman never had an easier sale.

I took care of this prized jewel like people take care of their kids, the only thing I didn't do was give it a bath, the rest I did. Also when in office I would keep it open in a 90 degree angle so that I could see who is calling and decide whether I wanted to take the call, so over the years my phone has been given many nicknames "Cobra", "Antenna", "Sattelite" to name a few and together we have been the butt of many jokes, but we just took in our stride. And I can say with some conviction that even five years later it still looks new, with not so much of a scratch on it (I am something of a bawa when it comes to taking care of my belongings). But as all good things must come to an end, my relationship with my phone also soured. One fine day it just completely switched off and no amount of coaxing and cajoling on my part helped. To say that I was devastated is an understatment. Thats when I decided that I need to get me a new phone and I decided that I am going to buy me phone that had the bare essential options, text message, incoming calls, outgoing calls, thats it. I decided that high end phones are not for me. Accordingly my sister and I set off to the store.

We arrived at the store and true to form I told the salesgirl what I was looking for - a mobile phone and made my self quite clear "I want a low end version, which just has calls and text". She went off to hunt for such phones and we were left to look at high end phone on display. Different varieties of Nokia, Sony, Samsung, etc. along with their vital stats were on display. We looked around for a while and in a section of the store all by itself I found the Blackberry sitting quitely giving me the eye. As if by magic I was drawn to it and found myself falling in love all over again. It was quite sleek to look at and it boasted of emails and internet. I stood looking at it and just then the salesgirl arrived with the low end phones I had asked for. When I say they were basic... they really were!!! If I had seen them first, there was a very good chance I would most definitely have bought one of them but given my sudden love-in-first-sight with the Blackberry I hesitated and the shrewd salesgirl saw it and put two and two together and launched into an superstar salesgirl mode promoting the Blackberry. It does this and it does that (everything she said bounced mile high over my head, I tend to switch off when people get over technical with me, this reminds me of the time a good friend was trying to get me interested in going to the casino, explaining how in the long run you may lose your money in the casino but in the short run given the probability and standard deviation of things you can end up making a decent sum. I only hope I was not looking as dumb I was feeling when he saying "probability and standard deviation". It there is one thing I hate more that technical jargon it is Mathematics and related fields. How I managed to get through school, college and Chartered Accountancy with this dreaded subject on the syllabus is something I will reserve for my memoirs). Fifteen minutes into the jargon blasting speech I was feeling so numb skulled that she many have said that it is toilet trained  and cleans up after itself at home and I would have believed it.

The only thing I really wanted to know was how to make calls on a Blackberry, rather whether you really could make calls or does it only receive and send emails and support business applications which make graphs, presentations, excel spreadsheets, but was too ashamed to do so. Still I asked a few questions like how many contact can I store (a training I attended saved me here, one of the faculty members asked us to invest in a Blackberry as he said you need to develop contact and store all of them, with a Blackberry you would do just fine, he said), What other colours was it available in, how many mega pixel was the camera, other buyers in the store were smirking, but I ignored them and went ahead and bought it.

We have been together for the past nine months and the only hiccup we have has so far was the text message icon disappearing when I pulled out the SIM card, other than that we are getting along just fine.

My initiation into the world of fine dining : Part 1 - How to buy wine!!!

It is Christmas time and all of Singapore is lit up and ready for the season of cheer and merry making. So, to get into the "spirit" (pun unintended), I tagged along with my new best friend to the mall to buy some wine. So there we were in front of shelves filled with madira (for the enlightenment of my international audience - this is what the gods in India call alcohol) of every type known to man.

There were rows of different brands of Red Wine, White Wine (it beats me why it is called white wine when it is actually kind of yellow in colour, it reminds me of something else, but I shall refrain from mentioning it here as this is a genteel blog and I will not have anything crude appearing in it), Ice Wine (I told SM in all innocence that I am sure it is a printing mistake, they meant "Rice Wine" and all I got for my pains was a dirty look), Pink Wine, Champagne (Note: Did you know that only wine made in the region of Champagne in France can be called Champagne, see I am not just a pretty face you know, smirk, smirk), beer, whisky (Note : Only Whisky made in Scotland can be called Scotch Whisky) and there also happens to be Dry Wine ( I asked SM why is called Dry wine, she says because it leaves you dry, I pictured myself left out to dry on a clothesline, it is quite possible that such a thing will happen if I drink, cause my mom will wash me... (this is actually a literal transalation of a hindi phrase 'Dho Dala' which means to clean throughly but is used as slang to convey 'that the person was throughly thrashed ').

Before you start questioning whether I am an alcoholic let me clarify that my General Knowledge happens to be good, just because I know so much about Alcohol does not make me an Alcoholic, yours truly is a teetotaller, though enjoys an occasional glass of Port Wine. Just because I know about the ocean does not make me a fish, you know, same logic... but I digress, where as I, Ah, buying wine...

So there we were like two giddy school girls giggling away to glory as we looked at the spirits on display. SM wanted to buy some wine for the upcoming Christmas dinner and was looking for something special.

She finally settled on the Pink Wine and what do you think was the dealmaker ?

- the fact that it was bottled in 2005, thus making it a five year old wine...nope (another bit of gyaan, apparently the older the wine the better, I told SM this and she shot it down saying "I don't think it really matters, I have had really old wine and it tasted like piss". I didn't say this SM did, you are welcome to ask her your smart alec question like "Oh, so you tasted piss ah ?" and I will let her unleash her kung fu skills on you.

-the fact that the printing was smudged, showing that it was indeed stored in a deep, dark cellar, somewhere...nope

-the fact that it was reasonably priced... nope...to be honest it was quite expensive for a small bottle...

-the fact that it came from some fancy vineyard, in the heart of France... nope

Give up already ???

Ok, I will let out the secret, she bought that bottle of wine because it was PINK WINE and thought it was CUTE :-)

From Chaand Taare to Din mein Taare...

Just before the declaration of bonus and increments the feeling usually is something like"Chaand Taare Tod Laaooon.." post declaration the feeling normally is Din mein taare...

I have listed below a collection of Din Mein Taare episodes that I have heard over the years...where the employees are reduced to "Kya se kya ho gaya, socha kya kya mila, bewafa...etc ..etc"

1) Europe Dreams...
One day prior to declaration of bonus...
A : This year I am sure to get a good sum, planning to send my parents on a Europe tour.
B : Thats cool ya, all the best.
The next day, post the Bonus Declaration Meeting(BDM) with the Big Boss.
A : Forget Europe,with this bonus Kerala seems too expensive.
B : This is pre-tax, deduct 30% to arrive at the in hand number...
A (in a pained voice) : In which case a picnic to Madh Island is all I can afford...

2) Pappu di gaddi...
One day prior to declaration of bonus
A: With this years bonus I will buy a Kinetic scooter.
The next day, post the Bonus Declaration Meeting(BDM) with the Big Boss.
A:Forget the scooter, I will not be able to afford a tyre.

3) Tu Karm kar...
Overheard in the office corridor.
A: So what plans over the weekend ?
B: Arre yaar, my sister is very depressed about the peanuts handed out to her post appraisal, will have to take her shopping or something to cheer her a bit...
A: Yeah, thats a good plan, you might need someone to cheer you once our bonuses and increments are declared.

Of fruit vendors, painting the house and injections!!

All things remaining equal, if my mom and sis have their way, our friendly neighbourhood fruit vendor or his wholesale supplier will soon be painting our house and giving us shots(not vodka shots silly, the medical kind, commonly know as injections).

OK, I see the bewildered expressions jostling for space with concern-for-my-sanity kind of looks on your faces. Background coming up.

As we all know in this day and age of genetically modified and enchanced everything (fruits and vegetables included). It is strongly suspected that the sweetness and colouring of fruits are tampered with. With rumors doing the rounds that they actually use paint to enhance the appeal and inject artifical sweetners into fruits.

While we were having high tea today, yeah we still suffer from this Raj hangover, though scones and cakes are replaced by sheera and chips fried in coconut oil. We were discussing the "chinese" apples and papaya palmed off by the vendor to my dad. The apples looked good, juicy and rosy though they tasted like cardboard. My sister commented that the colouring job was absolutely perfect, the supplying agent has outdone himself. To which my mom retorted that maybe we should give them the contract to paint our house this year, such talent should be tapped and nurtured. It would be a crime to see all that talent go to waste, a lifetime spent painting only fruits, sacrilege!!!

My mom then went on to do a small skit featuring the fruit vendor and herself having a conversation.

Mom: "Bhaiya, is saal aap hamara ghar ko paint karneka contract lijiye.."
Bhaiyya(flustered and blubbering): "Main ???, Nahi, main to bas mamuli seb bechne wala hoon."
Mom: "Arre wah, yeh kya baat hui, aap itna accha colour lagate hai sebon ko, ghar toh kamaal rang denge!!"

My sister and I were practically rolling on the floor laughing.

Not to be outdone my sister goes one step further. She goes "While we are at it, maybe we should also consider getting our immunity shots from them, they are super experienced after injecting the water melons and papayas with colour and artifical sweetners."

See I am very sane but there is some sense in this after all, isnt it???

What I have been upto...

Not that anyone is dying to have an account of where-I-have-been-what-I-have-been-upto, I still intend to unleash it on the unsuspecting blog reader who in moment of madness happens to stop by my space.

So here goes...

Finally went to Esselworld last Sunday. I am pleased to finally scratch off "Sr. No. 123 Visit Esselworld" off my place-to-visit-things-to-do-before-I-die list. I can say with some conviction that this was my first and last visit to Esselworld. To put matter in perspective let me venture a spot of explanation, I suffer from vertigo and cannot go on any of the rides, so P(a fellow afflictee)and I had to follow the rest of the gang all day. The only rides we could go on was Dashing Cars and all I got for my pains was a sprained back. To make matters worse as evening set in, the starving mosquitoes at Esselworld pounced on me and I was left with legs (wearing Capris...bbbbaaaadddd idea) looking like I was suffering from measles. Monday morning found me so sore, I could barely drag myself out of bed. Somehow I managed to get to office and sleepwalk through the day. A who sits next to me at work was all set to wheel me to the nearest doctors clinic after putting up with my "oohs and aahs" all day. The next day I decided to spare A, the rest of the public and myself the torture and spent the day curled up in bed.

I missed a wedding cause I forgot the date. As a rule I hate wedding, but I was particularly looking forward to this one as a close friend had invited me. This Thursday found me getting all decked up for the wedding and when I open the invite to check the venue details, what do I find ...the wedding took place last Thursday.

What can I say, age sure is catching up with me...

Excess Baggage

An article in yesterday's newspaper has me rolling on the floor laughing. "AI faces criminal action for carrying extra passengers" the headline screamed. I was intrigued; this was definitely a first for air travel. I read further, apparently the AI aircraft flying the Mumbai-Mangalore sector that lost a door on May 5 was having more trouble because allegedly it had three extra passengers. Two sitting on the foldable chairs actually meant for the cabin crew during landing and takeoff and a lady was accommodated in the cockpit no less!!!

This got me thinking about the time when air travel was crazily expensive (this was the time before Capt. Gopinath changed the way the common man travelled), train travel was for the lucky few who had contacts among touts and private buses ruled. Buses used to invariably be fully booked and there were still passengers who were willing to shell extra bucks to get from A to B. Such passengers were accommodated if they were willing to sit on cans, foldable chairs or next to the driver. AI sure seems to proud of our heritage and history. No doubt the powers that be were of the opinion that taking a page out history would help them tide over the financial crunch they find themselves in!!!

Jut had an afterthought, did the door really fall of because the aircraft started moving while still attached to an aerobridge or was it because the chairless cabin crew strapped themselves to it during take off ??

Use Diaper at Night!!!

If you ever feel down and out or are at a loose end on a weekend, hop into your car and go for a drive and feast your eyes on the entertaining messages painted on the back of trucks.

The usual tame ones

1) Horn OK Please!!!

2) Keep Safe Distance!!!

The Patriotic:

1) Mera Bharat Mahan!!!

2) Sau mein assi baiman...phir bhi mera Bharat mahan!!!

3) Jai Hind!!!

4) Jai Maharashtra!!!

The Religious type

1) Jai Mata Di!!!

2) Mata Vaishnodevi ke krupa se!!!

The "I-love-my-family" type

1) Maa Ki Dua!!!

2) Maa ka Aashirwad!!!

3) Paapu aur Tinnu ki gaddi!!!, etc

The ward-of-the-black-eye types

1) Buri Nazar waale tera muah kaala!!!

2) Meri Chali to teri kyon Jaali!!!

The Family Planning types:

1) Hum Do Hamare Do!!!...Of late these ones read "Hum Do Hamara Ek"!!!.

I was on my way to office last Friday when I came across the one that takes the cake, it went something like this "USE DIAPER AT NIGHT". If this is a new ploy by the Family planning department, they sure have a winner on their hands!!!

I have done some research on "DIPPERS" courtesy Wikipedia, for people who did not get the joke :)

"Modern headlamps are electrically operated, positioned in pairs, one or two on each side of the front of a vehicle. A headlamp system is required to produce a low and a high beam, which may be achieved either by an individual lamp for each function or by a single multifunction lamp. High beams (called "main beams" or "full beams" or "driving beams" in some countries) cast most of their light straight ahead, maximizing seeing distance, but producing too much glare for safe use when other vehicles are present on the road. Because there is no special control of upward light, high beams also cause backdazzle from fog, rain and snow due to the retroreflection of the water droplets. Low beams (called "dipped beams" in some countries) have stricter control of upward light, and direct most of their light downward and either rightward (in right-traffic countries) or leftward (in left-traffic countries), to provide safe forward visibility without excessive glare or backdazzle".

Oh no, its Paausing again!!!

The Maglish speaker strikes again!!!

Yesterday a friend and I decided to do a bit of shopping (both actual and window). After shopping for a while we decided to get some lunch, accordingly we arrived at Oasis, Andheri. I love the ambience here and food is also awesome (My personal favourite is the Chicken Angara, guaranteed to set your innards on fire).

It was past three and only three other tables were occupied with the occupants just whiling time over coffee.

One group vacated the table and the doorman held the door open for them. Here I would like to mention that it was raining pretty hard when we arrived at the restaurant. The Oasis lives up to its name and the people who are on the inside do not have any inkling of what happens on the outside. The group stepped out and one of them wails " Oh No!!!, its Paausing again!!!!"

Needless to say my friend and I burst out laughing!!!

I guess a bit of explanation is required for my non Marathi speaking audience. Manglish is when you introduce Marathi words into English. Rain is called "Paaus" in Marathi, hence my protagonists remark :))

The story of Stye and I...

As the name suggests I am fairly regularly afflicted by these pain in the eye kind of boils. For the past fifteen odd years they have been my constant companions, the kind that do not differentiate between good or bad times and have given me company at all times.

It started when I was in college and I have been called various names while they last, the most famous name that I have been called is "Lalita Pawar" because once about ten years ago the stye hardened and the capsule remained for about a year and I went about with one eye smaller than the other because of this growth in the upper lid, finally we got it operated. At that time I was given to understand that I would not be afflicted by styes any more. Which was more or less the case as if we leave aside a few stray ones I did get...nothing serious ever happenned and all was well.

All good things must come to an end and so my stye-free period also seems to have run its course and in the past one month I have had three in rapid sucession and at the moment all three are present in my eye as the capsule for the two old ones have hardened. As I type this I can barely see with my right eye as it is totally swollen and to say it is painful is an understatment ( I have consumed 3 crocin tables in the past 24 hours to kill the pain). Also past experience suggest that I am well on my way to a few more (I normally have about seven once this starts).

This morning unable to take the pain anymore I decided enough is enough and went off to see my Eye Surgeon (the one who has been treating me the past 15 years), he operates from two clinic one in the East where he is available in the morning and the other one in my area where he is available in the evening, since the pain was unbearable I travelled all the way to the East clinic to see him, he saw my eye and I am sure he saw that he will finally go for that long awaited and much delayed vacation and I was going to foot the bill, for the diagnosis was operate the two hardened styes. In addition he prescribed two different ointments, two antibiotics and drops for the eye. You will ask why two different ointments, apparently one ointment was for the fresh stye and the other one for the hardened capsule. Over and above this he wanted me to undergo a blood test and that too at the lab within the facility. Normally I am a very long suffering and loyal person, but this time I decided to get a second opinion, so on my way back I went to a nearby hospital and inquired for the eye doctor. They did not have a resident eye doctor, but the consulting eye doctor was due to come in in the evening, in the mean time the on call doctor started making my fact sheet through his assistant... honest I am not lying... this actually happenned... the assistant would speak to me go inside and update the doctor and came back with a few more questions, she made about half a dozen such trips before she asked me to get a blood test done - Blood Sugar and HIV.

I went off and got the same done at their lab and was paying the bill when finally the on call doctor condescends to meet me.

He: Beta, so you are a housewife...(I am like "Duh" is my marriage certificate pasted on my face???...I for one wear no jewellery, how can you be so sure ???)
Me: No, I work in a BPO
He(apprehension written all over his face): Dont worry, I have just asked for a few tests to flag off some viral tickers because of the recurring infections, the results of which I am sure will be negative, after which you can meet the Eye Surgeon.
(He gave me and my mom a smile and patted me on the back in his best "AIDS chune se nahi failta" pat).

I was absolutely seething at all this, I mean, he is a doctor and is supposed to make the patient feel comfortable and here he is making me feel like I am already suffering from some disease you would not speak about in polite company...

I arrive in the evening at the hospital to collect the report and find that it has not arrived. The ward boy or who ever he was called the testing lab and took down the diagnosis. I have reproduced the conversation I had with him for your benefit

He: Blood or Woh test karaya tha na ?
Me: Haan Blood sugar aur HIV...
He(wincing at the sound of HIV): Haan sab normal hai aur who negative hai... hard copy report ek ghate baad aayega lab se...
he writes all this down on a down on a piece of paper and gives it to me as I need the same for my consultion with the eye surgeon.
He(as an after thought): Kya aap surgery karra rahe ho ??
Me(pointing to my eye): Nahi, main toh bas Stye dikhane aayi thi...

I then travelled to the Eye Surgoeon's clinic which is about 20 minutes away(apparently he does not come to hospital but will be available at the Poly clinic).

Here after all the trials I have had to put up with all day I meet a man who is a credit to his profession, he checks my eye and makes all sensible enquiries and prescribes medicines to tackle the infection. All the while making me feel like this is something that proper care and medicines can take care. All in all the doctor exuded so much positive energy I forgot all the pain and felt like finally I was in good hands.

True story of Valentine's day!!!

In spite of what you have been told by everyone, the truth is that Valentine's Day originated hundreds of years ago, in India , and to top it all, in the state of Gujarat !!!

In the days of the past the men, specially the Patels, continually mistreat and disrespect their wives (Patelianis). One fine day, it happened to be the 14th day of February, one brave Patelani, having had enough "torture" by her husband, finally chose to rebel by beating him up with a Velan (rolling pin to make chapattis).

Yes....the same Velan which she used daily, to make chapattis for him.... only this time, instead of the dough, it was the husband who was flattened.

This was a momentous occasion for all Gujarati women and a revolt soon spread, like wild fire, with thousands of housewives beating up their husbands with the Velan. There was an outburst of moaning "chapatti-ed" husbands all over Anand and Amdavad.

The Patel men-folk quickly learnt their lesson and started to behave more respectfully with their Patelanis.

Thereafter, on 14th February every year, the womenfolk of Gujarat would beat up their husbands, to commemorate that eventful day – the wives having the satisfaction of beating up their husbands with the Velan and the men having the supreme joy of submitting to the will of the women they loved.

Soon The Gujju men realised that in order to avoid this ordeal they need to present gifts to their wives....they brought flowers and sweets. This is how the tradition - Velan time - began.

As Gujarat fell under the influence of Western culture, the ritual soon spread to Britain and many other Western countries, specifically, the catch words 'Velan time' !!! In course of time, their foreign tongues, this got anglisized to 'Velantime' and then to 'Valentine'.

And thereafter, 14th of February, came to be known as Valentine's Day and now you know the true story of Valentine's day!!!

OK, guys, I know you want to kill me for this post, I am suffering from writers block and Kartik asked me to put up some thing for Valentine's day, so have dug out this old forwarded email :)

Enjoy.

To wed or not to wed is the question...

I for one hate weddings ...thing is I am really tired of going to weddings and having elderly aunties and uncles elbow me with a “You are next!!!” Honestly if it happens to me one more time, I will ensure that at the next funeral I give that person my undivided attention by repeatedly saying “You are next”...

The issue of getting me married seems to be more important than national security these days, everyone seems to be out to get me...neighbours, relatives, friends, acquaintances, all and sundry for the matter, even the neighbourhood dog seems to look askance at me whenever I cross paths with it... People seem to get into groups or huddles like the Indian cricket team to discuss the problem at hand...”GET SEN MARRIED”... is the blood curdling war cry on everyone’s lips. This brings to mind what one of my friend says whenever he is being discussed without he himself having any say in the discussion about him, he retorts ”Kya main ganga mein beheke aaya hoon ??” ...I understand a translation is needed for my international audience, it mean...”Am I like driftwood that came along the Ganges, that is the impression I get the way you are discussing me ??”

I am not anti-marriage...before you jump to conclusions let me clarify that it is not a case of sour grapes or anything...I have no illusions about myself...it is just that I like my freedom a little too much and of late I seem to be meeting guys who are more interested in either doormats or in maids who will also help pay the bills.

I have been giving it a lot of thought...rather have been made to give it a lot of thought of late... what if I end up a spinster... this is a list of positives I have managed to come up with...

1) Control the TV remote at all times!!!
2) I wear the pants in my house!!!
3) Don’t have to worry about the toilet seat!!!
4) Will positively go to heaven as I will earn loads of brownies points for sparing some poor guys life by not marrying him!!
5) Get to keep my surname!!!
6) Don’t have to worry about what to cook or how I look!!!

This is totally my point of view, it may be right, it may be wrong, I am not judging anyone... your views are welcome !!!

The day so far...

I woke up this morning determined to close my blog as I felt I had nothing more to write...but the day seems to have started with a bang, it is just 9.30 a.m. and so far...the water supply to my area has been cut off, due to some work being carried out at the mains( no water today and tomorrow, is the gloomy forecast)...my sister almost got mugged...I got extortion comments from, Ahem, Ahem, a far east country...have a townhall to attend in office, followed by Christmas Lunch ...yippie happy days!!!

My sister works for the Singapore location and has to be in office before six thirty in the morning, as she was travelling in the auto rickshaw (my family is dedicated to doing our bit for the economy by travelling by rickshaw, thereby ensuring income to the poor marginalised class of rickshaw drivers), she felt rather than saw that a motor cycle was moving rather close to her rickshaw. It was on her left, then went to her right, almost like a big cat stalking its prey. Then before she knew it, she saw a shadow like a head very close to her rickshaw door and a hand clamped down on her handbag and tried to drag it away!!!

She screamed, let me assure you I have heard her scream as a child, it is of the variety that freezes the blood in your veins...the jarring scream unsettled the would be thieves and woke up her still in dream land rickshaw driver... the thieves looked the otherway so she would not be able to identify them and sped off, the rickshaw driver transformed himself into a jockey and soon they arrived at her office, the rickshaw almost foaming at the mouth like a race horse...

More later...

Bai Bye!!!

J arrived and declared she spied S2 on her way to work and went on about how different and smart he looked. S2 arrived in office in t-shirt and jeans amid much fanfare (as he is essentially a jeans and shirt person so it is a welcome change!!!)...It turns out it is woman who brought about a se(a)e change in him…his maid servant or bai as they are commonly called in Mumbai has not turned up for work…so the dirty laundry has piled sky high in his apartment and he is having to dress in business casuals for work…

He and his roomies are having a tough time with their maid servant...the last one disappeared without notice and this new one joined on the condition that she will be on vacation in December!!! This reminds me of other bai's and their tantrums…

My ex-colleague was interviewing prospective maid servants to do the laundry at her place, one prospective candidate said she would join provided they paid her Rs.200 a month and that too only if they had a washing machine…my friend rejected her with the following comment, “Now let me get this right, you want me to pay you Rs.200 to switch on and switch off the washing machine!!!”.

My aunt once had a maid who was kleptomaniac, she stole stuff and hid them in her petticoat (a petticoat is a long skirt that is worn under the saree)… this resourceful bai had sewn extra cloth on this petticoat to make a kind of pouch and keep the stolen stuff there!!!...Once she had the audacity to steal large steel vessels, they jangled like crazy in the hiding place and gave her secret away!!!...She was sacked pronto!!!

Not all bai's are mad, crazy or thieves, Gulab Akka who lived with us while I was growing up is a person who redeemed all the aforementioned bai's, she is a gem and one of the rare breed of genuine people. All my childhood memories are linked with her….We were really sorry to see her go, but working as a house maid was hampering her prospects in the marriage market and so she had to leave us to work in an Office setup. She still calls often and meets up at festivals like Raksha Bandhan (she ties a rakhi to my younger brother) Diwali etc!!!

Equal Opportunity Embarrasor!!!

Since I have embarrassed all and sundry by now, I think it is time to post a few of the bloopers I have made over time to try and make peace.. so here goes...

The first incident that comes to mind is of yours truly about six or seven year old. We speak a dialect of Malayalam at home which does not have a script so letters are invariably written in Kannada. My mum was born in Mangalore, Karnataka, but did part of her schooling there; the rest of her time in school and college was in Mumbai, so she is multi-lingual and can read and write four languages. I obviously did not know all this then and thought she only knew Kannada. My mum was busy writing letters to relatives in Kannada (These were the days when trunk call were terribly expensive and Internet was unheard of)...I stood watching her for a while and then commented maybe I should learn to read and write Kannada, to which she asked me why did that think that was necessary, to which I responded, when I get married and go away and want to write her a letter I would need to know Kannada, else how would she be able to READ!!!...P.S.-I know of this incident, as this has become a long standing joke in my familial circle and to redeem myself I did learn to read and write Kannada...

The second incident is me about thirteen years old, at that time power failures were relatively common in Mumbai. Once when there was a power failure in our area, we decided to go to the Juhu beach which is about a fifteen minute drive from our place. We dressed in a hurry and grabbed slippers and reached the beach in no time. I vividly recall, I was wearing a white top and a mango coloured skirt (this was brand new and I was very proud of it)....when we arrived at the beach I saw people staring at me...I attributed this attention to my lovely new skirt and basked in the glory for a while...we went to play in the water and removed the slippers which we kept in a heap, and stationed our parents as guards...when I came back to claim my slippers... no matter what I did I could find only one of the pair... of the other there seemed to be no sign...after a few minutes it dawned on me that all this while I had been wearing two different slippers!!!

The third incident I have already listed on Vins blog, this is for all those who came in late.. so here goes... this is hurled at me every time my aunts, uncles and cousins congregate... I was about eight years old then and answering the phone was a big passion...this person called when my dad was in the shower... what I wanted to convey to him was that my dad was having a bath and he should call later... it came out as mixture of hindi and english in these words... "woh abhi phone pe nahi aa sakte kyonki woh bath kar rehe hai"... and the guy goes, "theek hai mujhe bhi unke saath baat karna hai!!!!"...it was a saving grace that my mom came to my rescue...else I would surely tell him "aap apne ghar me bath karo !!!"

Technologically Challenged

Ok since I already let it slip that I am technologically challenged.. would like to share a few memories of what Bertram Wooster would call relating to the "old ancestors"or "old flesh and blood" who were/are similarly afflicted.

The first gem that comes to mind is relating to my grandmother (dad's mom)...the Television had just been introduced in our home and the whole neighbourhood used to congregate in the evening for the one hour or so telecast by Doordarshan(the good old days)... there used to be a program(still running on Local Marathi channel, I guess) called "Aamchi Maati, Aamchi Manasa". This program is basically for the farmer population and gives tips on farming and the like...when the credits roll at the start of the programme they show shots of green farms, flowers, fruit laden trees and happy farmers.... there is one specific shot which shows a mango tree laden with green mangoes or "kairi".... my granny watched the programme for a couple of months and one day commented... "Poor tree... the mangoes just don’t ripen on it!!" It took a great deal of explaining to get her round to understanding that it was just an image that is on TV...and that we are confident that fruit ripened on that tree and was duly eaten by all with much relish...

The second on that comes to mind relates to my uncle, "All Out" liquid mosquito repellent had just been introduced and the place where he lived was fairly infested by those critters so we bought him one of those machines, the same was duly sent to him but we forgot to send the liquid bottle to be fitted in to the machine... the next sunday we visited him and he was absolutely gaga over the machine... this, he said, is an invention to beat all inventions... according to him not one of those critters came anywhere near him since the machine was in his posession... we really had no heart to break the news on him that the machine was worthless without the liquid... this proves that mind controls what we feel :))

The third one relates to my dearest mom, I get my loathing for all things technological from her...it is hereditary honest!!!
This incident took place around the time cellphones were first introduced in our home and my mother happened to be holding one of the cellphones when it rang!!!
The look on her face was one of sheer terror as if a time bomb was in her hand and the countdown has reached the final sequence of 3, 2, 1..... :)

Near Death Experience

I seem to be tempting death every waking moment these days... first I enrol for driving lessons... then experiment with various recipes in the kitchen (both of these could result in homicide along with my death)... then lastly my body seems to have become an exceptionally good conductor of Electricity of late... I was operating the geyser (not the ones that abound in nature like the Old Faithful, which spouts jets of water every five minutes, the domestic variety that is used at home, for the connoisseurs of warm bath water)...

Now this monstrosity that is fitted in my house has three taps in all, one to let the water into the geyser, one to let it out of the geyser and the third one a normal tap which lets the water into the buckets. Now this third tap seems to hate me, for I have received shocks of varying intensities over time whenever I touch it with wet hands. We have had the tap checked plenty of times but same verdict, there is nothing anywhere near the tap which could be accounted for as a cause of these electric shocks, after the Electrician has left, I get a stern look from my parents which says "Don’t you have anything better to do with your time, use it fruitfully rather than cook up such a cock and bull story ?"... I don’t blame them; they never seem to ever have any problem with this... this tap!!!

The last of the series of electrifying experiences took place day before yesterday, normally, of late I am very vary of the tap and would not touch it with a barge pole...but in a unguarded moment I touched while trying to hang my cloth hair band on it... and what do you expect... BZZZZZT.... my hand was flying north like there is no tomorrow....after a mini war dance and checking to see whether all the fingers are intact and I still have sensation it that hand I calmed down... I need a few answers and I need them fast...
Q 1) Why is it that only I get zapped ??
Q2) Any suggestion on how to avoid this ??
(P.S. give up bathing does not count as a valid suggestion, I personally don’t mind, but as I have the utmost feeling for my fellow human being, this in the least I can do for them :p)

Travails of a Lady Driver

On a lighter note, I am learning to drive these days and the driving instructor is one hell of a philosopher...not sure how he ended up like that... maybe the hoards of "lady drivers" drove him towards thinking deeply on the very purpose of life on earth... he surely seems to have something against them...
He is like..."Lady driveroko jaldi padi reheti hai, kahan se bhi kahin pe nikal jaati hai" ... yeah right, like men never commit accidents and all the accidents on the roads are thanks to "lady drivers"...which planet is he from I wonder...
Ok, to begin with I must confess, I did not begin the training on a very positive note... as am a directionally challenged person... I say I want to go left when I take a right turn (In my defence, I would like to state that, in my mind I mean right, but my stubborn tongue, chooses to say otherwise)... so he goes "yeh, aapke left hai ?"... I assume suitably conversational tones and say "Kya maine left kahan ??, main right bolna chahati thi "... poor thing just shakes his head as if he knew this was coming...
Then there are the occasional "Aunty ko bachao"... "Uncle ko bachate chalo"..."Agar unko zarra sa bhi touch kar diya toh, woh yeh nahi sochenge, ke bacchi hai, gaadi chalana seekh rahi hai , maaf kar dete hai...wohi khade, khade maarege!!!"... now this does not do wonders to my already battered confidence...
Then there is the philosophical advice..." Peeche wala horn marta hai to marrane do... tum dhyan mat do(wow, I love this)... woh apne baare mein soch ke horn maar raha hai, tum apne baare socho..."...this is some advice I would like to apply in real life...
Add to it my personal nightmare which I will also admit to....when I want to take a right turn that will take me across the road and there is a bus approaching just then, my blood freezes and I imagine myself in car, crushed under the wheel and the people clicking their tongue and saying..."bechara bus driver, "lady driver" ke wajah se accident ho gaya !!!"