This, That and Some More

My cousin and I grew up together in Delhi; our Mothers were good friends so as families we met very often. Our dolls used to spend the week at each other's houses, we used to make 'Fanta' by powdering orange drops and then mixing it with Soda, we used to cook food in toy utensils over a candle flame, we used to play 'Beauty Parlor' with our dolls where we would be the beauticians and our dolls at the receiving end of our experimentations. She introduced me to the forbidden Star comics, which were a pictorial representation of a romantic story. Then the kiss seemed a repulsive thing - imagine a man and woman exchanging saliva - YUCK! However curiosity about this man woman thing (however yucky it seemed) made us consume quite a few of this disreputable literature before we were caught. She was the darling of the colony, everybody knew her, and even my Mother would comment that she is such a bright and lively girl. "Why can’t you be more like her?" She would ...

A ride in an auto rickshaw on a Bombay street is always full of adventure. In addition, it gives you a good workout and digests food faster as the craters on the road shake and stir you in every direction till your insides are all mixed up! I missed my office transport so I took an auto rickshaw to work and while on the highway I heard a lot of impatient honks behind. The rickshaw driver was of course quite oblivious and thought he was Michael Schumaker driving a Ferrari. Once he awakened to reality, he reluctantly gave way to a Merc right behind, however the Merc was rather miffed that she was not given way so the lady at the helm spewed a few verbal abuses to the rickshaw driver. Michael Schumaker spat in return and drove on with more vigor - it was a make beleive Ferrari versus a Merc! Anyway Bombay is hardly a place for aspiring F1 racers and traffic played spoil sport to the merry chase (rickshaw sputtering behind a Merc) and Schumaker in a vengeful mood, bumped into the Merc as s...

For the past 15 years I had been contemplating about going back to Delhi - just to visit friends and look up all the old places that I used to frequent while I lived there. Somehow the opportunity or a reason to go to Delhi never came up and going alone for a weekend just to mingle with old friends was frowned upon heavily by family. Thankfully a very dear friend of mine decided to get married and the whole family had a reason to go to Delhi. There was a lot of excitement everywhere, another dear friend called me and threatened dire consequences if I didn't stay with her and both of us had a lot of conversations about our husbands meeting for the first time, food likes and dislikes and the menu plan for the five days that we would stay with her. The menu plan was an impressive array of Mongolian, Lebanese and Italian cuisines along with some Indian fillers which I used to eat at her house many moons ago. I was to be the guinea pig for the recipes that would make it to her soon to b...

I heard from a friend that this time Goddess Durga is coming to visit us in a boat. I keep hearing various interpretations of her mode of travel which people use to predict the future. Maybe there is some amount of truth in it but that’s a topic to be researched later. To me, the coming of the Goddess was signified by the fragrance of the 'shiuli' flower which blooms in the months of September and October. The flowers would bloom in the wee hours of the morning, spread their heady fragrance and intoxicates all around and then fall off by mid morning. I remember there was a 'Shiuli' tree in our garden which I used to shake and all these little flowers would rain on me. I would collect these flowers in my basket and place them in front of idols of Radha Krishna which belonged to my paternal Grandmother; it was a daily chore during the season. The coming of the Goddess was also signified by examinations which would invariably fall in those days, I had two Mothers pulling m...

My first job was as a seemingly lofty designation of Center Manager of a training firm. This place had 4 employees in all, a receptionist, a general dog’s body (also known as a peon in India), a trainer and I as Jill of all trades. My Mother was dead against me working in some sleepy backward town but my Grandmother encouraged me to go and find my bearings after being sheltered for two decades and some. I loved the idea of staying alone and experiencing the unknown quite like the Fool in the Tarot story. After many arguments, my mother relented and brought first class tickets on a train called Black Diamond and she offered to reach me and settle me into whatever accommodation had been arranged. The 'first class' experience on Black Diamond was interesting, carpeted floors, the train attendants appeared to be dressed in clothes from the British Raj era, spacious seating and a choice of food, tea and coffee. The first class compartment seemed to be full of potbellied bespectacled...

Los Angeles is a great place to be in, especially if one has to fill the long lonely weekends with something interesting to do. Most of my Friday evening was spent in browsing www.metro.net to chart out my itinerary to my destination by bus and train. I diligently wrote down the bus numbers and directions so I did not get lost. Los Angeles can be quite cumbersome without a car I was told but I managed fabulously with a $3 Metro Day Pass and my legs filled in for the rest. The first amusement part I visited was Universal Studios; I took the red line train from Hollywood and Vine to Universal. I emerged and wondered what to do next and just followed the crowd who must be heading towards the park. I waited at the shuttle bus stop and a white and blue four carriage long tram like bus came along shortly and I boarded with a ho-mum-bored attitude. The bus started its ascent towards the studio and as it climbed, my interest grew. The studios were situated on a top of a hill and the panoramic ...

If we must shed tears then they are perhaps better utilized the hungry and starving children of this planet rather than waste them over men. Read My Tears for Men

Every day I considered myself lucky to have this beautiful mountain just outside my window, I felt strong just by looking at it. The mountain was omnipresent in my life, my dreams, decisions and actions were derived from the strength that this mountain gave me. I often looked up with wonderment and admired its height, magnificence, majesty, beauty and the general halo that surrounded it. It made me aim higher and strive for more in life. One day there was a tremendous storm with a heavy cloudburst and when the light of the day finally dawned, I looked out of my window to find that my mountain had disappeared. I was devastated to find that my mountain was just a heap of volcanic ash which had stood high in a perfect world but collapsed under the vagaries of life and nature. Perhaps it was my belief which helped it to stand for this long. What I did not realize was that my mountain blocked light out of my life; it limited my vision and limited my aspirations. Now the horizon is mine to c...

My Mother's maternal aunt was deaf and dumb, she was born that way and just because she was special, she was her Mother's pet. There was no great love lost between her brothers and sisters due to the sibling rivalry - the other children were jealous because she always got everything and all the attention while others - all seven of them, felt alienated. In my childhood, I always looked forward to going to their house in South Extension; it was a small barsati (a room on the terrace) which she and her husband had rented. The house was impeccably neat; shelves stacked neatly, photographs of her husband receiving various awards from Presidents and Prime Ministers of India proudly displayed and an array of potted plants on the terrace. Her husband was the President of the Deaf & Dumb Federation of India and my great aunt, being his second wife was suitably pampered by her husband. At times they had massive fights when the step children came to stay or visit and all those fights...

One must be quite used to seeing stars in the night sky, seeing stars when knocked out or seeing stars throwing starry tantrums and flashing plastic smiles. I kind of got used having stars under my feet while in Hollywood. Every time I walked down Hollywood Boulevard I read the names of the stars that fell under my feet (ha!). It seemed kind of sad to walk all over them so I walked around them as far as possible. I was greeted by Frank Sinatra and Lucille Ball the moment I stepped out of my apartment. I still remember the good old Door Darshan (the only channel on Indian television about 15 years back) days when they showed 'I Love Lucy' and hearing 'Strangers in the Night' on AIR (All India Radio) and dreaming about some mysterious man who would come and sweep me off my feet (never turned up though!). I walked on some more and met Cary Grant who I fell in love with after watching 'The Rear Window' and I reverently stood and mooned a bit in front of his star. Wh...

My tryst with San Francisco started with a Southwest Airlines flight which deposited me to the Oakland airport. From there I was advised to take AirBART to the Coliseum station and then take the BART to SF. The ticket vending machines looked very complicated and left me quite at sea. I decided to be shameless and dumb and asked the person behind me to assist me with the ticket, she pressed a few buttons and the machine greedily sucked in a 10 dollar note as that is the only denomination I had. Since machines are not intelligent enough to understand my thoughts, it d didn’t give me back the change. I headed up to the platform and boarded BART, which was comfortable, spacious and very fast and it dipped under the bay and zipped across and then I was in SF in just 20 minutes. I emerged at Market Square and there were these tram lines right in front which reminded me of Calcutta. I had no idea how to get a taxi, I asked a person and she said “Oh just show your hand – they’ll stop” so I hai...

Last Saturday I went back to Rodeo Drive, the place which was kind of etched in my memory from a few years back during my last visit to LA and Beverly Hills. It reeks of exclusivity and its evident to one and all who pass through, the tree lined avenues, the perfectly manicured gardens, the beautiful houses, the opulent hotels and the world's most expensive shopping street, Rodeo Drive is quite something. Last time I came here on a Sunday so there weren't much people around but all of a sudden a gentleman dressed in a red coat stepped out of somewhere and started speaking to me in fluent Hindi, he greeted me, asked where I was from and hoped that I would enjoy my day in Beverly Hills. I was more than astonished and very much pleased to hear my language in a country far away from India. That memory has always remained with me and it is what that took me back to the place. On reaching, I find the very familiar, portlier and older "Mr Beverly Hills" in his element on a...

No this is not a book review, but a personal experience, that too in a call center in the USA rather than in India. I spent some time at the call center to understand the business process better and in the process got an insight into the much more than business processes. I was greeted by Yvonne, who was a very amiable and friendly lady, 62 years old, a hot shot COBOL programmer who worked in Bank of America in her hey days and could debug code by just looking at a dump. She was made redundant because technologies changed and jobs were outsourced, however to keep the home fires burning or may be just to occupy her time rather than just being forgotten, she chose this job of working nights as a supervisor at this call center. She showed me around, introduced me to people I should spend time with and offered me some soda and pretzels. Next I sat with Nicole, who was an Australian who had shifted to USA fifteen years back. Initially for years she worked both shifts probably to make ends m...

Here are some pictures of Santa Monica beach on Memorial Day. It seemed that all of California was out on those beautiful beaches and it almost came close to Juhu on a Sunday in Mumbai. Interestingly, I have always loved this song by Sheryl Crow called ‘All I want to do is have some fun’, that is precisely what I did this weekend, but the only difference from Sheryl’s song was that I had fun till the sun set on Santa Monica Boulevard! Memorial Day A tribute to all soldiers, army, navy, marines, coast guards and air force. There was another pillar on the side dedicated to all soldiers who dies in various military operations in the line of duty since 1999. A pretty picture indeed. The Pier Everybody is out to have a great time. Somewhat like a walk down to Haji Ali in Mumbai, musicians playing the guitar or flute, people standing up on benches and trying to entertain the passers by to make some money, the serpentine queues for all the restaurants on the pier, the ancient carousel (se...

I have a boss who works 20 hours so not much opportunity to blog. I plan to do a post on all my culinary experiences but in the meanwhile here is some food for thought. In the numerous meetings I am attending here, a point came up where some government policies had an implication on software design. This country happens to be Spain, it also came up that since Spain is a socialist country, they have such policies in place. The person went on to make a comment - "Socialists are just so stuck" That's USA for you - purely capitalist!

I had this very eventful journey from Mumbai to LA. It started on an incredibly funny note and I would have really laughed if I wasn't so stressed out about everything. I flew Air India and the first announcement I heard was that the flight has been delayed because the crew had not yet arrived. I wondered what if they don’t arrive at all. Is that a very diplomatic statement to make to agitated and stressed passengers who would miss all their connecting flights? What impression must have all the visitors to India formed about India's international carrier? I was shocked at the callousness and utter disregard for any passenger needs after being reasonable well looked after by Lufthansa, Air France, United etc. No water and soap in the toilets further added to discomfort and I found a human hair in my food. I know for sure I will never fly Air India again. On reaching LA a couple of hours late, I found that the apartment I was renting had messed up and I had no keys and generally ...

My boss told me that I have to go to Los Angeles for a month, my first reaction is pleasant, being right in the midst of beautiful beaches and Hollywood was interesting. Then the waves of worry replaced the initial thrill - one month is a long time and everything will be topsy turvy at home. Added to that, my maid's tantrums, my Mother in Law's various ailments, my husband's work related travel plans and my son's vacations, complete despair set in. All of it just because I will be away for a month and the family will be thrown out of gear. The wives manage just fine when the husbands go away for work, why can’t the husbands manage when the wives are away? They behave like helpless babies who need to be given instructions on a daily basis! To ease the pain of my not being around, I have to stock up on groceries which will cover the month, plan the menu with my maid, employ additional domestic help to fill in for the labor that I put in and give my son a few activities an...

Knowing about and exploring different cultures and places has always been a hobby. These days one can do a lot of armchair traveling thanks to the many travel oriented shows on TV and write-ups in magazines but when I was growing up there weren't too many options available except for reading and traveling to the location and exploring for real. Thanks to the uncountable Mills and Boons I consumed in my teen years, I know quite a lot of UK, Australia, Italy, Portugal, Spain and Greece. I wonder why Frenchmen were not preferred as heroes in Mills and Boons - perhaps it is because of the age old rivalry between the English and the French? My other obsession was listening to shortwave radio. During a trip to Amsterdam, my Mother brought me a Sony world receiver where one could do a digital scan of all shortwave frequencies. It is till date the most wonderful gift that anyone has ever given me. Shortwave radio added an entirely new dimension to my learning and also gave me a chance to p...

My Mother recently made this comment under emotional duress - distances and cold climates kill warmth in our hearts. Our personal agendas and our immediate world consume us so totally that we have little care for what else happens around the world or to our extended families. Most Indian families will have at least one relation staying outside the country, sometimes they are very close relations who choose to move away in search of better prospects and incomes. Longer distances from home may mean lesser frequencies of visits back home, at times they come back after years and years and all distances melt away and it seems like as if they had never left. At times it seems that some stranger has come in place of the person we originally knew and it is so hard to make the connection that we were used to. I have watched both these situations up close. In one situation a daughter came to visit her Mother after a period of 20 years, the first time since her Father passed away. This was also t...

Chandalika is a dance drama written by Rabindranath Tagore back in 1933. I was watching it on TV last night and found that it is perhaps as relevant now as it was in 1933. It's a story of a girl named Prakriti, who is ostracized by the society and lives on its edges. She does not understand the consequences of her birth into a family which is regarded as ' untouchable '. She watches wistfully from the shadows as the world passes her by as even her shadow was inauspicious, the sweet meat vendor, the bangle seller and the flower girls all shunned her existence. One day a Buddhist monk appeared and asked her for some water to quench his thirst, he brushed aside her hesitance and said God made all men equal and her origins were inconsequential and proceeded to drink water offered by her. The ' caste system ' sometimes rears its ugly head during matrimonial alliances but otherwise it’s quite forgotten - at least in urban India. Now with the fresh wave of proposed reserv...