Life's Like That!

This morning...

- I wanted to wake up early so I could get some work done and take a long lunch at work. I couldn't get to sleep until 12.30 in the night and woke up at 7.00 AM feeling all puffy-eyed and cranky.

- I poured out a glass of juice that I desperately wanted because I was thirsty. But I forgot to take it with me when I left the house.

- I got in the car and realized my fuel tank was completely empty.

- It starts pouring cats and dogs right when I start driving.

- I have temporary amnesia and go my usual route to work before I realized I had to fuel. (I know that sounds nutty but that's how pre-occupied I was). So I had to take a detour.

- The Speedway gas station which is normally empty is completely full. I mean, so full that you have a car queue! :( I looked at Shell next door and it too was completely jammed. I mean, where's everyone going?!?

- I fueled my car up and returned to find my car keys missing. My keychain had broken open and I had every other key except the car key.

- I spent 20 minutes searching for my key at the gas station before I found it buried deep under the car seat.

- Finally, I thought, I am going to get to work. And I run straight into a traffic jam caused by a car wreck on a side street. The irony is that that street rarely ever sees any traffic much less an accident. Huh!

- My badge reader fails to read at work while I am standing in the pouring rain at the edge of my patience.

Somedays are just not meant to be my day....sigh.

But like they say, there's always a silver lining....

- Yesterday, my car battery failed and I couldn't start my car up. I was in an unfamiliar parking lot and late to work. I asked a couple of drivers but they looked at me really suspiciously and ran away. Then came an old taxi driver who was kind enough to help me jump-start my car. He had to push my car out of the parking lot so we could get the cars close enough to jump-start my car. I couldn't thank him enough.

- Today, as I lost my car keys in the gas station and was sweating like an overworked donkey, a couple of maintenance workers at UK walked up. They'd been seeing my plight for the past 5 minutes and offered to help. They got flashlights and looked around in my car and finally found my key for me! :)

Sometimes, its these little things that really make my day...:)

Have a good weekend!

Roti, Kapda Aur Makaan

Wanted: A leasing agent at a very nice apartment house who can be snobbish, patronizing and efficient. Duties include being rude and condescending to the new tenant, smiling emptily, ensuring that they realize our worth by acting as hi-fi and snooty as possible. If you don't have these qualities, our training will help you.

It is my opinion that's how apartment houses advertise for positions..:)

Scene 1: I go to a plush, nice apartment house looking for a new house. After initial niceties, I ask about an apartment I am interested in.

Girl: Ah, we don't have that layout for you to look at now. We have another if you'd like.
Me: But I want Layout I.
Girl: I am sorry you can't look at it because we don't have any.
Me: When does it become available?
Girl: Aug 12
Me: Ok, can I have a hold on that apartment but confirm after I've seen it once?
Girl: You can have a hold but it costs $200.
Me: Will I get it back if I don't like it?
Girl: No. That's penalty for changing your mind.
Me: Penalty? But I haven't even seen the apartment. How can I decide if I like it or not?
Girl: I don't know, Ma'am. I am sorry but those are the rules.
Me: So I can't see the apartment until Aug 12 but I have to agree to take it now without seeing it?
Girl: Yes. If not, we will lease it to someone else.
Me: But how will that someone else decide to take it if they've not seen it?
Girl: [smiling patronizingly] They do.
Me: I don't believe this!


Scene 2: We are at an apartment looking at it.

Me: Will the management change all carpets and damaged items in the apartment before I move in?
Girl: Yes.
Me: How can I be guaranteed that I will have a new carpet?
Girl: [smiling icily] You can't.
Me: ????!$#$#$# So it is at the management's disposal? What if I am not happy with it?
Girl: Oh, we can't help it.


Scene 3: Apartment office. Working out details of the rent.

Girl: You have two choices. If you take an apartment with a washer/dryer then its $30 extra per month. Otherwise, it is just $X00.
Me: Hmm ok. So if I take the apartment with the washer/dryer, how much does it amount to? [I know the math but I just wanted to confirm.]
Girl: [looking blank] Err..it is $X15.
Me: [confused]. Are you sure?
Girl: Of course. I know.
Me: For washer/dryer, it is $30 more?
Girl: uh-huh
Me: [unakku kanakku podave therlai. Idhula "uh-huh" vera!] Ok, if it is $X15, I will take it.
Girl: Hang on. Let me get a calculator.
[Does calculation]
Oh, I am sorry. It is $X30.
Me: But you just said $X15.
Girl: hehe..I can't do math without a calculator..hehe.
Me: Siri..adhu onnu dhaan kuraichal.

Scene 4: I decide to take an apartment and I am signing the papers.

Girl: We have a 3rd floor apartment and a 1st floor. The 3rd floor comes without washer/dryer.
Me: Hmm..I think I will take the 3rd floor. I plan to buy my own washer/dryer.
Girl: Ok. If you can sign here please....
Girl: I need you to put down your salary.
Me: Why?
Girl: We need to make sure you can pay your rent.
Me: [Offended] If I can't pay my rent, i wouldn't move in here.
Girl: We need to decide that. I also need your paystub.

[Podi. Enga amma appa kooda idhu varaikkum ennai paystub kettadhillai!]

Me: Grumble..grumble...ok..humph.

Girl: I need your manager's number.
Me: What for??
Girl: I need to make sure you work where you say you work!
Me: You will have my paystub, right?
Girl: We don't like to evict our tenants. So we make sure of everything before they move in. Your manager has to fill out a form.
Me: What if he is too busy?
Girl: You can't move in.
Me: $#&&#$^#$&#$&#$&#$^!

Scene 5: I am at work smug and satisfied that finally I finished my house-hunting affair. I am dreaming about having vaulted ceilings and chandeliers and soft lighting....Phone rings.

Me: Hello..
Girl: Hi, this is J here.
Me: Oh, hi!
Girl: You can't have the third floor apartment.
Me: What? Why?
Girl: I was wrong. The tenants don't move out until November.
Me: But you said they would in Aug?
Girl: No. I am sorry. I was wrong.
Me: But I don't want the first floor apartment.
Girl: Sorry, ma'am. That's the only one available.
Me: Are there any other apartments I can look at?
Girl: No.
Me: Can I have my deposit back?
Girl: No. it is non-refundable.
Me: But I put down a deposit hoping I'd get the 3rd floor apartment! This is unfair.
Girl: Hmm..maybe I can take off $20 from the rent?
Me: That's it?
Girl: That's all.
Me: grumble..grumble...ok.

That, my friends, is what you've to go through to get a nice apartment. Sigh..

The Vancouver Diaries – 9

You rock, mom!

Of us all, my mother was probably the worst hit by the gloomy winters of Vancouver. Sitting alone at home all day long is an extremely boring and painful thing! I never realized how much until now. If, for one day, I don’t go to work and I am left alone at home, I feel like I’d go stark, raving mad! So here’s hats off to my mom for enduring those long, boring, lonely winters!

The Internet was coming of age during that time and she delved right into it. She used to browse Vikatan, Kumudham, Hindu etc… online. There was also an online Tamizh radio program weekly by Suresh Chakravarthy and Subasree Thanigachalam. We used to avidly gather around the computer every Thursday to listen to a few Tamizh songs! That’s how Tamizh-starved we were.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A friend in need…

There are no constant friends or constant enemies. And one who doesn’t realize it is a loser. I learnt that one fine, wintry evening at Burnaby North. I was walking from the North building to the South around late afternoon. I’d stayed back for some extra work and it was pretty dark outside. There’s a walkway from the North building to the South and then there’s the shortcut. The shortcut cut across the lawn and a parking lot and led to a door at the back of the South building. Usually, everyone took the shortcut. Near the parking lot, there was a shady area that was notorious for drug users.

I had noticed some weird looking characters around there quite a few times but I just ignored it and walked on. Well, today was a bit different. I was alone in the parking lot and as I was crossing it, a gang of 4 or 5 people emerged from the shades and started walking toward me. I broke into a sprint. But they caught up to me before I could get to the door. I swallowed once and held my breath.

"Hey, you want to try getting high?"

"NO." I wonder where I mustered the strength to reply boldly.

"It doesn't hurt, you know..just one pinch of the needle and you're done."

"No, thank you. I have to be somewhere."

"Where to?" one of them snickered.

The most convincing excuse I could think of at that time was that I was going to meet my boyfriend. It meant that there was someone waiting for me and expecting me. If I didn't turn up, they'd come here and get me. So I blurted out my best excuse.

Silence. Then a snicker.

"Where is he? You're lying, aren't you, girlie? You don't want to hang out with us?"

I was truly in trouble now. I was maintaining a circle around me because I was afraid one of them would jab me with some needle if I wasn't alert enough. Even in that cold, a sweat broke out on my forehead. The thought of myself being a drug addict for the rest of my life was too scary. Just when I thought I was a goner, I heard a voice say:

"Let her go. She's my girl."

Oh, God! Is that who I think it is? Doesn't that voice sound familiar? Maybe I am just getting desperate now. Is this true? If so, please let me hear the voice again.

"Hey guys, you heard me. She's with me."

I turned slowly and saw The Godfather himself standing there. The druggy gang backed off and slinked away murmuring.

We went into the south building. I was shivering uncontrollably.

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

"I will be in a few minutes...Thanks!"

He shrugged and said,

"Aw, that's fine. You're lucky I was going home late today. I got detention in Math class."

A lopsided grin swathed his face. I smiled and said,

"Been smashing pies on people's faces in Math class?"

"Wish I could!"

We both laughed aloud.

"Don't ever walk that way alone in the evenings. Take the main walkway."

"Ok."

And we both went our ways! Like I said, you never know who is an enemy and who is a friend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I discover a passion

I had always enjoyed reading. From Greek mythology to Egyptian lore to History of Civilization to Agatha Christie to anything-you-name, I voraciously devoured anything that came my way. But, in a way, I was limited in my reading repertoire. English Lit class changed all that. I was introduced to alternate genres, off beat writing, short stories, poems etc...Some books I had as schoolwork during that time are memorable: "All Quiet on the Western Front" by Erich Maria Remarque, "The Kitchen God's Wife" - Amy Tan, "A Handmaid's Tale" - Margaret Atwood, "The Color Purple" - Alice Walker.

More than the story/content of each book, I learnt to appreciate writing on a different level. My teachers taught me to look for style, tone, use of words, allusions and how each of them contributed to the storyline. It was writing broken down into little component pieces. Reading books was no more for content alone. Poems were fun too. I learnt about rhythm patterns (Iambic Pentameter etc...), Shakespearean sonnets, Petrarchian sonnets, satire, the meta-physical poets etc...

Homeworks were interesting because they were so different. We had to sometimes review books, review poems, write a sonnet of our own in Shakespearean style, act out a play, do readings etc... English and Literature were heaven for me! As a consequence of all those little homeworks, I discovered writing as a passion. I had never considered putting thoughts down on a piece of paper before. But now I knew the basics - how to write, how to phrase, where to put what etc...Oh, its so hard to explain! But once you know the structure of an essay, its so easy to organize your thoughts accordingly.

We had a small noticeboard outside our classes where teachers would put up their students' best work. I was proud when Mrs. B put up my review of "The Mayor of Casterbridge" on the noticeboard..:) Two months down the line, I had my first article in a newspaper!

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The Diary will flip its next page soon…

Early on a Sunday morning, I read this post and that led me to Anuradha Ramanan's article in Vikatan. I was so incensed on reading that article that I had to write about it in my Tamil blog. After all, there's no better language to spill your guts than the mother tongue, is there? :)

Looks Vs. Smarts

Recently, read an article by a very smart person about looks and intelligence. The debate was between Smart & Ugly Vs. Hot and Dumb. The author was against societal biases in judging people based on looks alone. I expected a lot of comments agreeing with the author.

Surprise, suprise. Most of the commenters wanted to be both hot and smart. But everyone emphasized the importance of being handsome/beautiful. Not even a single person said, "Hey, its okay if I am not that great looking. I am smart. That's the way I want it to be." Instead, the responses were more along the line of, "Huh...I want to be both" or "I want to be beautiful in my youth and then I want to be smart."

Articles online also seen to say that the bias towards "attractiveness" is hardwired into our systems. Almost like nature wants the best of the breed! :) But it seems totally unfair too! What about us poor beings who might not be terribly beautiful?? Are we supposed to be left behind in jobs, promotions, education and society?

No wonder there is so much emphasis on beauty these days....

Indian movies and Love

I was reading a bunch of Tamil movie reviews on Indiaglitz. Either its love or violence for our storywriters. In a land where most get married by 30(love or arranged) and most marriages last through life (unlike other countries), why is there so much obsessing about love and marriage??!? Why can't there be some other meaningful themes?

Prada, Elizabethtown and et al...

(Entertainment Weekly) -- As legendary Vogue editor Diana Vreeland used to say in the era before daunting editor Anna Wintour, who inspired the character of terrifying editor Miranda Priestly, who, in the yummy, carb-lite fashion-world fantasy "The Devil Wears Prada," rules the fictitious magazine Runway like a magnificently cruel empress -- well, as DV used to say, People Are Talking About ... Meryl Streep.

Courtesy: CNN Entertainment Weekly

That is either the worst sentence construct I've read in recent memory or the author's feeble attempt at sarcastic humour is lost on me. I read the entire piece (link above) and I found it rather pompous. Why? Example:

The story is glossy junk begat of just-plain junk anyway

Err..What?

Anyways,I watched "The Devil Wears Prada" last week. I loved Meryl Streep's performance as Miranda Priestly. Anne Hathaway looked much better in "The Princess Diaries" and "Ella Enchanted". Certainly watchable once for Streep's performance. That's all (read in Priestly's style)..:)

Watched 'Elizabethtown' yesterday night. Saddest movie I've seen. No screen chemistry between Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst. And Orlando Bloom just deadpans through his character. Kirsten Dunst portrays a highly improbable Claire. Flimsy premise. Dumbest dialogues I've heard in a while. The people in the movie laugh at all the wrong times. The only saving grace in the movie is Susan Sarandon in the last fifteen minutes. The talented actress that she is, she held me spellbound in those few closing minutes.


I know RS, Kay and Venky thought the movie was better than what I have just said...:) Especially, Kay thinks its the best and most romantic movie he has ever seen... :)

The Vancouver Diaries – VIII

MJ and I became fast friends. She was a Romanian immigrant. Her family had recently moved to Vancouver. Her English was sparse but she was a fast learner! Our lockers were close by and we had lunch together everyday. We used to stand around chatting after school for a long time. She used to tell me horror stories about Romanian life and government. I was thankful I wasn’t fleeing my country.

Soon after that, I befriended GK who was in my English class. She was a Korean girl brought up in Argentina. Soon after, a lot of other kids became friends with me. I was easing into the school system. It wasn't painful anymore to go to school everyday.

My brother had a breeze of a time at school! His assignments included wandering around in the park collecting dried leaves and sticking them in a notebook; Going swimming and writing a report on it; Learning ice skating and then talking about it. Well, you can guess how stressful his life was! He went to Sperling Elementary which was 5 minutes away from our home. While I had to get up at 7 AM and trudge to school, he would wake up around 8.15 and dash from bed to school in 10 minutes. And he had hot lunch waiting for him everyday at home. Lucky Dog! Besides, my brother was popular amongst the ladies. Being popular included getting a lot of phone calls and words of praise about his beautiful eyes etc...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Revenge of the Midgets

MJ and I were sitting in front of our lockers at lunchtime.

"Oh-Oh! MJ, look over there."

The Mafia was approaching down the hallway laughing out aloud. I had told her my little run-in and found that she’d had her own episode with them. Of course, it wasn’t bad as mine! (Why did I have to get the worst experiences??)

"MJ, let's go"

She grasped my hand firmly and said defiantly, "Subha, why should we go?"

She didn't seem so scared. I was. They had still not noticed me. I was trying to wrench my hands away from her. Her eyes suddenly had mischief in them.

"Subha, put the book in front of your face and hide. I will do the same."

Now, I was giggling.

"When I whisper, stick your feet out in front of you ever so slowly, ok?"

I nodded. As those guys came near, ever so slowly, both of us stuck our feet out in front of us. And down the Godfather went, sprawling on the corridor in front of him! Yaaaaaaay! The entire hallway burst out laughing. And then, we did the most heroic thing we’d ever done so far:

MJ and I ran for our lives still giggling uncontrollably! After all, discretion is the better part of valour, ain’t it?:)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Ruminations….

Life abroad makes you think. Not the student life where you are surrounded by desis of your own age like I am here in Lexington. But the kind of life where you get to peek into older first generation immigrants and see a”20-years-down-the-line” you reflected in the eyes of the 50 year old man in front of you.

We met so many Indians who had settled down – for good or bad- in Vancouver for the past 20-30 years. All of them were successful, wealthy and had good lives. They had managed to retain a semblance of their Indian roots and celebrated it in the occasional weekend festival party. But their kids were quintessentially Canadian.

I think most of us see our kids as mirror images of ourselves. We wear a set of colored glasses and see them through that. I will compare my kid’s childhood tomorrow with mine own and happily float along in the thought that he/she is going through what I did.

“Ah, my son is like me. He also likes chapattis!”

“My daughter is like me – very patient and understanding!”

We see them wearing Indian clothes at parties/festivals and think, “Hey, I brought up my kid to be Indian! I used to wear pavadai-sattai at Diwali when I was a kid too”. Little do we know that it is but a costume for them – sans the associated cultural overtones that we relate to in our mind. We keep living in our own imaginary world and suddenly, one day you are given a rude shock!

You see them dating/marrying a non-Indian and you can’t accept it. You fight, flail your arms, shout from treetops but to no avail. You try to get them married to a homegrown Indian boy/girl and you meet with stiff resistance (on both ends kind of like “Pardes”).

Finally, with shoulders slouching, you accept the truth: They are no more Indian than you are American/Canadian. And that disappointment lingers in your heart and tears you limb to limb!

I had a peep of this side of things a long time back when I saw frustrated parents who couldn’t get along with their kids. One man even left his wife and kids and moved back to India. Alone. The wife didn’t want to accompany him because she wanted to be with the children. And the children didn’t want to move to India, of course!

“Subha, how I wish I could turn the clock back 20 years! I was blinded by money! I thought I could still bring up my kids to be Indians! Never thought it’d turn out this way…”

That refrain is common…and it makes me shudder!

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A year later....

I know I've been grumbling a lot about Vancouver. But, hey, it was really not that bad! I made a lot of new friends at school. Life became easier. It is one of my axioms that 'Intense growth comes with great pain'. Those 2-2.5 years of my life were the years I really grew - on a personal front as well as academic. After my initial pains with physics, I actually grew to enjoy the subject and the style of teaching followed there. I was amazed at the variety of courses offered in High School ranging from Pottery to Archaeology etc...!

However, true to my South Indian conservative lineage, I couldn't muster enough courage to be adventurous in my choice of courses...:) So I stuck to the beaten path: Science, Computers, Math etc...But thinking back, I think I'd have wanted to take some off-beat courses. MJ pulled me into Math clubs, Science clubs etc... after school hours.

Over the summer, I did a part-time job as a secretary in a company. In the evenings, MJ and I used to pick cherries from our cherry tree in the backyard! :) She really was crazy about it because they used to go berry-picking in her home country of Romania. :) A bunch of us played soccer near the Burnaby Lake over the weekends and then wolfed down our picnic hampers and took long walks. GK, MJ , DO, myself all went to Lynn Valley for a hike. It was raining (true to Vancouver's reputation) and we had a fun time slipping and sliding in the muddy trail giggling all the way. My family went to the Capilano Suspension Bridge and Park. My brother and I loved the suspension bridge! I scared him out of his senses on the swaying suspension bridge!

We went to Grouse Mountain often. I never did understand their motto which was played on all their gondolas:

"No wonder our chefs are inspired. Grouse mountain, the peak of Vancouver."

Huh? Chefs inspired by a mountain? How can food be related to a majestic mountain? Maybe food will be majestic? Whatever. My brother and I came up with a dozen hilarious answers and then gave up! :)

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The Diary will flip its next page very soon…

Last two weeks in brief...

Read this week...

I've been on a reading spree!

- Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach

Very inspirational! Takes around 1.5 hours to finish it and it is available online here. Do read if you have some free time especially if you are a perfectionist or would like to go places. I'd rate it as a 9/10.

- Five People You Meet in Heaven - Mitch Albom

The second book of this author's that I've read recently. The first was "Tuesdays with Morrie". A different look on the concept of "heaven" and how it ties into your life here on earth! But I found it a bit less interesting than Tuesdays with Morrie. I'd give it a rating of 7/10.

- God's Debris - Scott Adams

An excellent book that challenges you to think. It makes you question certain things you have taken for granted and forces you to distinguish between truth and fiction! Not everything the characters say can be taken as truth either! :) Definitely a must-read if you have an inquiring mind and dig philosophy, religion, meaning of life and such. I was enthralled and just wait until you find out what "God's Debris" actually IS! :) It is free and you can get it here.I rate it as a 9.5/10.

- Vaakkapatta Bhoomi - Su.si Ganesan (Tamizh)

Excellent read! Takes you on a journey to Tamilnadu's villages and a lifestyle long extinct! Ganesan traces the evolution of culture in our villages to incorporate modernity and how it has affected a few traditions. It is not a book that pans modernity and present day culture. In fact, the villagers themselves support certain improvements in lifestyle. I loved it! Rating: 8/10.

- I, Claudius - Robert Graves

Published in 1934 and a best-seller in its times, I ordered this book yesterday. Ra. Ki. Rangarajan's "Naan Krishnadeva Rayan" (a good read on its own!) is inspired by this classic. In fact, that was primary reason for getting this book. You can read about the book here. I haven't opened the first page yet. Will comment when I am done. I do love holding a fresh, new book with its distinctive book-smell in my hands! Ummm..I foresee a relaxed, comfy evening with this book in my hands and a hot cuppa tea! :))

- On The Ganga Mail: Reflections

In contrast to the others above, this is a blog. I found the blog in itself interesting. But I loved this post! :)


Heard this week....

It has been an Abheri-spree! :) (A random thought popped into my head. Is it right to use "an" in front of "Abheri". It is a Tamizh/Sanskrit word and I am transcribing it in English. Tamil/Sanskrit don't have rules for using "a" or "an" in front of vowels. So which rule do I follow?:))

- Tillana in Raga Dhanasri by MS.

Dhanasri is a.k.a for Abheri. I can't get this beautiful rendition out of my head! :) It is on MIO under M.S Subbulakshmi. I can't get the link to the page because MIO looks like it is down. Let me know if you want the link.

- Kandan Karunai by Madurai Mani Iyer

Raga: Abheri/Bhimplas. First time I am listening to this song. I love Abheri as it is and this song just added more reasons! You will definitely notice a similarity to "Isai Thamizh Nee" from Thiruvilayadal towards the end of this rendition! :) Listen to it here.

- Narayana by Maharajapuram Santhanam
Raga: Suddha Dhanyasi. I've heard this song many times before. But somehow, it struck home this week more powerfully...:) Listen to it here.


Did this week...

- A couple of very embarassing gaffes.. :) But I think I will live through it.
- As if two weren't enough, started another blog! :) I know, I know..I can hear your exasperated sighs!

For the heck of it..

So, what did I do when I was bored? I started another blog! :) I don't promise that it is interesting or profound. But just something to put my thoughts in.

The Vancouver Diaries - VII

Sir Lancelot conquers the Enchanted Palace!

When you know what you're doing, life is uninteresting. But when you are bumbling along from one thing to another, wondering what other embarassment is in store for you right around the corner, then you don't have time to think of "boring"! :) Sometimes I felt like Sir Lancelot riding into a land full of demons, ogres, wicked sorcerers and enchanted palaces.

My personal enchanted palace was the "Vending Machine". First time I encountered it at school, I looked at it curiously. I gingerly stepped up trying to figure out what I should do.

Okay, drop coins first. I fumbled in my bag and found a bunch of coins.

Which one is a toony? ($2) Hmm...let's see...go through it one by one...ah, got it!

Okay, now drop it in and pick your drink. Now, why isn't it coming out? Hmm..

I tried hitting a couple of buttons but it didn't work. I gazed at the vending machine with awe. The sesame had chosen not to open this time. Maybe some other time.

It wasn't until one day that I saw a girl kicking the machine as hard as she could before she took out her drink, I realized that the machine was errr...a bit temperamental..:) I had to kick it to free my treasure from this enchanted palace! Aha! First victory for Lancelot!

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Pole Star Subha!

My father's 'Enchanted Maze' was the highway system. First time we stepped out on the highway, it felt like we were going in a never ending loop!

Help! The Maze had swallowed us.

We weren't used to highways and exits and ramps and perpendicular, intersecting roads. So we went on a lovely merry-go round reading signs after we'd passed them, seeing exits after the fact, not knowing how to loop back to the highway etc... Finally, after a very interesting day, we figured out the highway system. Or I should say my father did because I was a bit late on the uptake.

Each time we missed the route and went the wrong way, my dad would ask,

"Okay, Subha. Which way do we go? Right or left?"

"Hmmm..right."

My dad would promptly turn left and that'd be the right way! So, in a way, I was kind of like the pole star leading the way unerringly, albeit in the wrong direction. If not for me, my family would still be debating whether to turn right or left. But hey, people could rely on me to take the right direction, right?

Right?

Right?

I don't hear you say "Yes, Subha. You're the best!". Humph. You are as bad as my dad. Humph.

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Sanitized Containment Rooms a.k.a "Malls"

We went to Metrotown mall and it seemed so deserted and bereft of people! Coming from the crowds of Paris corner and Ranganathan street, I felt that it looked like a sanitised hospital! Even the floors smelled of disinfectant and cleaning liquid. All stores were symmetrical and same with white walls and polished floors. Not at all distinctive unlike the "Nadar kadai" down the road in Madurai with the name board hanging at a quirky angle or "Murali Maligai Stores" with sacks full of rice and grains stocked up at the front and the unmistakable smell of red chillies tingling your nose or the Chettiar store with the smell of new, beautiful Mangalagiri cotton sarees holding the promise of a beautiful experience. I had been with my mother and grandfather to Nalli's, Kumaran's, Vairamaligai etc...in T.Nagar and they always knew my mom! I got Goldspot or coffee or tea as I chose and the owner would fawn over me and suggest things for me to buy. But this was so impersonal! Sanitinized Containment Rooms.. yeah, that'd be more appropriate than "Malls". I didn't like it!

And then, there was the first encounter with the escalator. All of us looked at it like it was some alien out to grab us and trode gingerly on it. And 5 minutes before the escalator even hit the landing, we'd mentally prepare ourselves for the landing:

Ok..one..two...one leg forward...go with the flow...don't jump...yaaaay!

Besides, once we had a Seinfeld-ian episode. Metrotown mall has huge, different levels of parking. We parked in some level and got into the mall. We wandered around happily for a while and got out at some other entrance. Then we realized we had parked somewhere else and that a mall can actually have more than one entrance. Aha.

Lesson# 1: Remember your parking level and spot number.

That'd have saved us half-an-hour of wandering around the parking lot like grumpy nomads.


*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Travel bug!

We visited Penticton one summer. It is an amazing holiday resort on the shores of Lake Okanagan. They even have their own version of the Nessie called the Ogopogo. How's that for romantic, huh? :) There are beautiful orchards all around the Okanagan area. They even have harvest festivals. Wine from the orchards there is supposed to be the most delicious.

We went to Victoria, capital of BC on a ferry across the Pacific. One thing to be said about British Columbia: it definitely is the most beautiful place on earth! What with mountains and rolling valleys and virgin forests everywhere you look, it is a sight for sore eyes. Butchart Gardens in Victoria has the most beautiful flower show. During the summer, you can see miles and miles of roses of all colors (red, orange, yellow, white) stretching as far as your eyes can see! I hadn't seen such fields of roses anywhere except in movies. It was breathtaking! There's also a wax museum nearby. The Pacific around the Vancouver Island area boasts of a lot of whale schools in its waters and you have rides that take you whale watching! An experience worth its money!

The US border was a couple of hours off Vancouver. We crossed over many times to shop in Bellingham, Portland, Seattle etc... But a stark difference at the border: Canadian authorities were always more polite and friendly than US authorities! :)

And we met a lot of interesting folks! There was a desi guy in Vancouver who held a M.E. in Mechanical Engineering and was driving cabs for a living. You'd be surprised how many well-qualified Indians end up doing menial jobs abroad! It is a pity, really. And then there was this really dynamic lady who ran the "Rim Jhim" radio station in Vancouver. We had interesting visitors too. One guy from CBI, India came to stay at our place. He looked like actor Raghuvaran..:) We heard rumours that the guy behind the Kanishka bombing in 1982 resided in Vancouver. We even met him once! He had come to my dad's bank to do some business and he seemed like such a normal, sane person. He was arrested later but I have no idea what happened to him now. We heard stories where wannabe-immigrants tore up their passports, flushed it down the airplane toilet before disembarkation and claimed refugee status. Canada is a very immigrant-friendly country and grants asylum to refugees easily.

Oh, there are so many stories, so many stories! Which one do I tell you?

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Idiot Box beckons!

We were fascinated by the TV. Partly, because we were making do for the first few months with an old, antique TV that looked like it had been purchased in the 40s. My father’s predecessor had left it and it continued on for sometime till we got a new one. By “we” I mean the collective consciousness of my brother and I. My parents very rarely watched TV.

“Xena – Warrior Princess” was our topmost entertainer! “Hercules” followed and then came “Zinbad the Sailor”. We went crazy over these mythological figures even though the screenplay was so twisted and far from the actual myth! J But it was fun. My brother was a cartoon-maniac. He used to watch I-know-not-what shows some of which included “Banana man”! J Besides, we ended up watching Seinfeld (my once-nemesis). I think it used to air every Tuesday at 7 PM and I diligently used to clear up my homework before that so I could watch it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Main Street

Main Street was our Indian street. Vancouver has a very thriving Punjabi population. And on Main Street, you'd find lots of Punjabi stores, restaurants, shops etc... We went grocery shopping there. We used to go to a Sri Lankan store for Indian groceries. Main Street was quintessentially Indian - with its smells, trash, dirt. But it was also home to many of us expatriates - where we to go to get a whiff of home! The only memorable event I had in Main Street was that I bought a length of very good quality, baby pink velvet there! Later on, in Bangalore, a designer turned it into a beautiful sharara. I still have it! :)

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Diary will flip its next page very soon...

If.... if incase you HAVE TO switch fields once in every 5 years between your 30 to 50 yrs of age assuming that your monetary needs are taken care in upper-middle class standards, what (4-5 professions) you would wish to do (and say few words about it) ?

Priya had tagged me and here are my choices:

I've always had this secret wish of being a journalist. I enjoy writing and it'd be a dream come true to cover exciting happenings. Maybe, like Burkha Dutt, I'd get a chance to be at the warfront etc...Beats sitting at a computer all day long, in any case!

Second, I'd like to pursue music more seriously. It has always received short shrift from my end when priorities conflicted. I gave up formal Carnatic singing many years ago and after that, I just practice off and on. I’d devote 5 years to music!

Third, I wish to backpack across Europe. I love seeing new places and some of my friends who have done backpacking call it an unforgettable experience. I think I'd like to earn money as I go, do small jobs in different countries and move on.

Fourth, I’d like to spend my old age in Srirangam. Just go to the temple, listen to music, sit in on parayanams, harikathas, eat well and be at peace on the banks of the Cauvery! :)

The Vancouver Diaries - VI

Left: A picture of Burnaby, BC. The mountains in the background were my view when I walked to school everyday. Courtesy: Wikipedia

Rain, Rain Go Away...

The one thing you'd have to hate about Vancouver is the incessant damp, rainy weather. You have rain 300 days of the year! The only time you can catch a peep of the Sun God is during the summer months of July-August (if you're lucky!). Someone told me that Seattle has the highest suicide rate in the US of A because of its rain. I am not surprised. Vancouver, just 3 hours away from Seattle, used to drive me crazy!

The entire weather system used to confound me. Being a typical Indian, I was only used to Hot, Hotter and Hottest seasons. I was witnessing the four seasons - Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn - for the first time! My walk from my home to school took me 20 minutes and I used to love that walk during Autumn! Bright red, green and yellow maple leaves strewn on the road creating a carpet of colors were a novelty to me! The snow capped mountain peaks formed a background to the hilly, curvy road leading to my school. I used to savour the fresh, mountain air as I walked to school everyday! It was heaven.

Winter was not really that bad. The warm currents of the Pacific kept us reasonably warm. During winter, the sun used to rise at 8.30 AM and set at around 3.00 PM. Darkness descended within 3.30-4.00 in the afternoon. I was gloomy and upset because of that. During the summer, it was the other way around. The sun was around till 11 in the night sometimes and it rose as early as 4.30 in the morning! I used to feel extremely awake by 6 with sunlight filtering through the blinds prodding me to get out of bed! I hated that.

My brother and I were dying to see snowfall. We were a bit disappointed early on when people told us that Vancouver never received that much snow. Our prayers were answered. Vancouver had the heaviest snowfall in decades during the Winter of 1996. Our driveway, lawn and backyard were fully covered with 6-9 inches of snow. All of us stayed up at night to watch the magic of falling snowflakes covering the ground in a robe of pristine white.

Huh. We didn't know what awaited us next morning. My dad sounded the alarm first.

"Uhh..hey guys, want to come down for a minute?"

My brother and I looked sleepily at each other and dragged ourselves downstairs. Mom was busy cooking.

"What?"

"Look at that!"

My father pointed dramatically to the front of the garage. We followed his gaze and gasped. Foot high Snow had piled up outside the garade door! There's no way my dad was going to get the car out unless he happened to be Moses parting the red seas.

My nose, meanwhile, was getting red in the cold. I rubbed it slowly and said,

"So what do we do?"

"We take a shovel and clear the driveway."

"Noooooooooooooo"

My brother and I cried in unison. But there was nothing else to be done.

So we donned our winter jackets, cap, gloves and all of us went to work on the driveway. We dug out a shovel from somewhere in the garage , my father took out a packet of salt and off we went to work like little soldiers. I realized that day that having a huge, long driveway overlooking a big lawn doesn't only look pretty; It means a LOT of work. For some 40 minutes we laboured to carve a path.

"Whew. You wish for more snow?" I asked my brother.

He shook his head huffing and puffing.

"No snow. I don't want to spend all my mornings like this!"

After we cleared the drive, we even took a triumphant picture in front of our garage. I don't have it with me here. It is in my parents' album. I looked at it even this time when I went to India..:)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The Godfather

School stinked for a while. I had no friends, no lunch partners, nothing in common. Zilch. Zip. Nada. I was under pressure on the academic side as well. I shed a lot of silent tears wondering why in the world I was going through this. But I realized soon enough crying wasn't going to solve my problems. I got in this despondent mood especially after Physics 11. I was getting out of Physics class one day, my shoulders hunched, head down - the picture of misery.

Darn. I'd have to take another long route to go to the North Building.

I had to avoid the bully guys. As if all my troubles were not enough, I was in trouble with the Italian boys "mafia". We called them the school "mafia". They tried to look typically Italian - lots of grease on their hair, an arrogant gait, fast cars. In retrospect, I think they were inspired by John Travolta's "Grease". They used to bully and tease a lot of "uncool" people (as they called them). I was sitting in the cafeteria one day doing some homework with a Chinese friend. These guys walked in and sat at the next table.

"Hey, she looks new!" One of them called out pointing at me.

I kept my head down, my heart pounding.

"C'mon, less go talk to her!"

By now, my head was deeply buried within my Math book. If I could've dug a hole through the pages, I am pretty sure I'd have stuck my head inside it.

"Hey, who are you?"

"Err.. I am Subha" and I stuck out my hand as a greeting.

One of them snickered and waved my hand away.

Yeah, sure. You dumbass.

The first guy was tall and dark with so much grease on his hair that I thought it was going to drip on me. I stared at him.

He grabbed my Math book.

"What're you doing?"

"Homework."

"Will you buy us all lunch?"

My heart raced.

How do you answer this question? Do I say no? yes? Oh God!

"Err..I don't have that much money", I answered truthfully.

"Hey, listen guys. She doesnt have money. What're you doing to eat?"

"Err..I was thinking Apple Pie.."

"Go get it.."

Am I getting away so easily? Thank heavens.

I moved to the counter and got my apple pie.

"Come here...", they called.

I took my apple pie with me, shivering a bit. After all, 6 huge, muscular guys do seem scary especially when you are 15, new, small compared to them and they're busy bullying you! :) A very unnecessary, unseeming comparison popped into my head.

I am a midget. An insect in a world of mammoths. Whatever! Why am I trying to make a metaphor out of my misery?? Shut up, brain! I don't need your literary eloquence now. Oh gosh, now I am talking to my brain. How sad is that?

"Sit."

I obeyed. Other students in the cafeteria were now watching the drama unfold. The next moment the tall guy picked up my fresh, new Apple pie and smacked it on my face.

I heard racuous laughter as they left the cafeteria. I burst into tears more out of shame and embarassment than anything else! I ran out the cafeteria, tears blinding me, looking for the washroom.

I HATED SCHOOL!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I meet a friend

After that, I avoided those guys taking circuitous routes to my class. Thinking of that incident, I went to my locker and was getting ready for another class when I saw a familiar face nearby. M was in two of the classes I was taking. She had raven black hair styled in a boycut and soft, European features. I knew she was deadly smart because she cracked some of the tough homework problems in Physics. And the other reason I remembered her was because she always had a green apple with her.

She called me in thick, accented English.

"Are you going to Math?"

I nodded my head looking at her curiously.

"Can I walk with you?"

Sure. God, you're actually listening to me. Now I don't have to cross mafia territory alone.

Outwardly, I smiled and said yes.

For the first time in 3 months, someone actually wanted my company! I cannot tell you what a relief that was. Of course, I talked with a lot of other students. But none of them were what you could call friends. All of them were "hi-bye" types. I felt a happy warmth pervading my body despite the winter cold.

Maybe, I can be friends with her.

You want someone to care if you don't turn up for class one day. You want someone to share lunch with you and sit and talk of mundane things that happened. You want someone to share your crush on that cute guy down the hall. Above all, you want to belong. I think the reason I cried in the cafeteria after the bullying session was because there was none who would come to me and comfort me after that. There was none who would lend their shoulder to me and say, "Hey, its ok!".

I know I make meeting a new friend sound a big epic victory. But then, that's how it was with me back then! I was glad MJ walked with me to Math class that day.


The Diary will continue to write itself....

After a very long hiatus, I posted in Tamil today! It is a pleasure to write in Tamizh! Happy weekend, people! :)

Dayton Temple

Vancouver Dairies -6 will be out in a couple of days...:) Till then, here's some photos I took over the Memorial Day weekend....

Dayton Temple - retouched in Photoshop

Dayton Temple - With a Pastel Shades filter in Photoshop

Ella Enchanting!

I have wanted to listen to jazz music for a while but I never got around to it. B made me a CD of "Ella in Rome - The Birthday Concert". I had never heard of Ella Fitzgerald until B mentioned her. On a really cloudy, rainy Thursday evening, I popped this CD in and turned up the volume. Tired as I was, I just sat back, closed my eyes and relaxed.It turned out to be the perfect music to listen to on a slow, rainy evening! :)

For a 1958 live recording, the sound is amazingly clear. In today's music, with all the synthesised sounds,voices and instruments, sometimes the real voice of the singer is hard to hear. Not so with this album. I could hear Ella's beautiful voice loud and clear in all its vibrancy. I could feel her enthusiasm and emotion in singing every song. A few lyrics - "Stomping in the Savoy" and "The Lady is a Tramp" - cracked me up ( you can hear some people in the crowd laughing too) . "Angel Eyes" and "I Can't Give You Anything but Love" were my favorites. Another thing special about this album (maybe because it is live) is that you can feel the spontaneity. Spontaneity, especially in the singer, is truly infectious. I have seen it in SPB's concerts where he totally enjoys the nuances of a song as he sings it and the crowd gets in step with him..:) Ella reminded me of SPB.

Overall, it made for an excellent music experience. Do try to listen to it if you get a chance. Thank you, B! :)

PS: Strangely, what started all this off was a monotone, B &W picture of Unnikrishnan on one of his CDs. I was listening to it and B thought the image resembled Ella! Strange how music around the world connects...:)

Confessions of a pinkaphobic!

"Confessions of a Shopaholic" by Sophie Kinsella is maddeningly addictive. When RS lent me the book, the very pink cover seemed to shout "Stay away" to me. You see, I hate pink (Ahem..Why do girls have to like pink anyway?).

I expected a girly-girl book and it was sachcharinely so! All Becky Bloomwood seemed to do is shop, shop, shop. So much so, that all her days seemed pretty much the same to me. I flipped a few pages and I was going, "Huh? Is she nuts?". Then I flipped some more pages and I got bored. Becky seemed such a far cry from myself and anyone else I could relate to. Do such utterly irresponsible, disorganized, confused, aimless, shopaholic people exist in this world? :) (I admit I am pretty confused myself but I do know to stop shopping if I have a $5000 debt on my Visa card! And I very definitely won't hide my bills in a drawer and hope that they'd go away.) I couldn't take the overdose of shopping at one go. I put the book aside.

A couple of days later, I went home for lunch and saw this book lying around. Hell, I'll read a couple of pages just to keep me entertained (Yes, I do have this very bad habit of reading while eating. My parents tried in vain to correct me. But alas..). And before I knew it, I kept reading a couple of pages every day and now I am hooked. :)

Despite being a pinkaphobic, Becky has successfully gotten my attention. I hope to finish it off this weekend.

The Vancouver Diaries - V

"Class, we're going to have an ice cream business as our business project... .."

I've always struggled for a balance between knowledge and ignorance. Knowledge means growth and growth is always painful. The more you know, the more you question, the more you think. A refined thought process is said to make one a better person. But there are some moments when I stop to ask myself: is it really worth going through some experiences or gaining knowledge? It is like the concept of 'Maya'. Knowing that all the world is just an illusion and there's a higher truth behind it all doesn't give you peace. Somehow the idea that the world around you could be an illusion is a shattering thought, isn't it? It means that all you believed is not true. So, you seek more, question more....But people who haven't even bothered to think of this idea can be peaceful, happy simply because they are ignorant!

"....We are going to run this business for one month. Representatives from this class are going to be executives and I won't interfere for the course of the project..."

Of course, my experience was nowhere akin to seeking some higher truth..:) But if I hadn't gone to Canada, would I have been for the worse? So what if I didn't know how to survive in another culture? How was any of this going to help me out? How different was I going to be from my friends back in India? Wouldn't it be awesome to be naive, ignorant, trusting and simple?

"....We will see how well you can apply business principles and the profit we make is going to be turned over to charity.."

The fact was that I was stressed, lonely and irritated and I was searching for meaning behind having to deal with all these things. I'd have so preferred to be a normal school kid in India with her friends, her own small circle of people she could depend on, familiar faces, familiar places, a set path for life....How nice would that be!

I was lost in the contemplation about...er..as corny as it may sound, the meaning of Life (I do sound so confused like Becky Bloomwood from "Confessions of a Shopaholic"! Eeks!) when someone prodded me from behind. Startled, I half-rose from my seat.

"Okay, Subha, you want to be VP of Finance?"

"Huh...err..ahem," I mumbled with embarassment. What was going on? I had tuned off Mrs. B's voice a long time back. VP of Finance? I turned around and glared at Barbara who sat behind me.

"Why did you poke me?" I whispered fiercely.

She mouthed, "Its ok." and gave me the thumbs up. I rolled my eyes.

"Anyone else interested?", Mrs. B asked.

Jenny, who sat in the next row, was the "cool" girl of the school. She was quite popular, involved in a lot of projects and generally nasty to everyone. She uncrossed her legs gracefully and stood.

"Okay, Jenny. You want to run for Finance too? We'll take a vote."

I got a haughty, condescending look from Jenny.

Oh, you are so sure of your popularity! How I wish I could punch you in the face!

Needless to say, she won and I was left red-faced and annoyed. I did end up with VP of Personnel but that wasn't much of a consolation to me! That should teach me to philosophize during class! Hell, I thought, why did Barbara have to startle me?

*************

"Hey, you should try smoking once."

Eva and I were talking between brush strokes in our painting class.

"No Eva, I am okay. Not curious to try."

"No, I insist", she leaned toward me and whispered conspiratorially. "It is AMAZING. I do it with my bf all the time."

She giggled. I stared woefully at my dolphin. I wasn't getting the shades right. Darn! I forgot what Mrs. Tobin said about mixing charcoal grey and white! Hopefully, I should get a B at least. It would really stink if I got a "C" in Drawing and Painting.

"So?"

I looked up distracted from my reverie. Eva was looking at me eagerly, her eyes dancing mischief.

"Uh..Eva, I think I am going to skip. I have to go somewhere this evening."

She made a face at me and laughed.

***************

Physics 11 was my nightmare. The first day I walked in they had a "quiz". I was handed a piece of paper and some 20 questions on Newton's laws. All of them were numerical problems. I was used to the theory oriented methods of India and the jump in syllabus was really pretty startling. Totally taken aback and unprepared, I did horrendously. I was ready to burst into tears. But then, what's the point of crying?

Vicky used to sit next to me in Physics. She was a very friendly, helpful soul. But I disliked the number of "likes" she used in her sentence. In fact, I had a problem with that everywhere in Burnaby North. She, for her part, said,

"You know, you should like slow down. Like your English is just too fast and I, like, can't really get it. We are not like used to Queen's English."

Okay. Whatever.

****************

English literature and English were my favourite classes for a while. I was comfortable with Mrs. T and Mrs. S. It was fun and I was in my elements. I enjoyed the way Shakespeare was taught. There were discussions about style, allusions, metaphors, oxymorons, contextual influences etc...We even got to act out a part of King Lear! I was supposed to be King Lear and I got the famous "Howl, howl, howl..." finale of Lear. I was afraid that if I messed up, I would be the butt of jokes. But everyone was much more tolerant than what I imagined. All kids made some mistakes while presenting and they shrugged it off. There was no expectation of giving a "perfect" talk or presentation. Mistakes were normal and you learnt from them. I liked that about Burnaby North. People were so casual (unlike India where you'd be the butt of jokes even if you made one silly error in front of class)!

Mrs. S was amazing with the Romantic poets. Byron, Keats and Shelley came to life in her soulful reading and dreamy interpretations. I can still remember, word for word, her reading of Shelley's "Ode to the West Wind". I still catch my breath when I remember the experience!

******************

My brother and I were tickled to death with social courtesies. It was so unlike India. If you went to a desi party, the kids were consigned to a separate floor of the house (it was either the basement or the attic) while the adults talked shop and had fun. My parents really did not understand the philosophy behind this segregation and didn't see a reason for it. We, for our part, were quite unused to being hustled off to a basement as soon as we entered. One time we went to a party, we were dutifully in the basement of the house with 6-7 other kids. The host's son was a particularly short and thin kid of about 7-8 years of age. He, for some reason, took a dislike to my brother. He pulled all sorts of weird faces and expressions till my brother wasn't sure if he was having some kind of a spasm or if this was his normal state of being.

"Subha, what's with this guy?"
"I don't know", I whispered back giggling uncontrollably.

The conversation was unlike anything we were used to. The question of the evening amongst the other kids seemed to be this: Which is more gross? Picking one's nose or peeing in public?

"So what do you guys think?"

My brother and I looked at each other's faces struggling to keep our laughter contained.

"Err..I think its fun to hear you guys discuss it...", I said keeping my face straight. My brother was totally red in the face with supressed laughter!

To add to my brother's misery, for the entire length of the evening, the-kid-who-hated-my-brother kept asking him,

"Can I punch you in the face?"

The joke was that he was nearly half-a-foot shorter and skinnier than my brother! :)

"Subha, can I punch him? I can easily just floor him. He is driving me nuts!!"

"B, no way! You'll be in trouble with mom and dad. Shut up."

"Grrr.. I can't stand it anymore! Why do they have to shut us up in the basement with weirdos like these? I want to go upstairs and have some decent conversation."

And we were mightily relieved when the "party" was over! :)

Of course, not all parties were like that. The guy-who-hated-my-brother later became my brother's good friend. We began liking parties later on. But it is always the rite of passage that's interesting....:)

Pandora, Tindora etc...

I am a sucker for Indian style vegetables. I only say "Indian style" because we use it a lot in our cooking. True to being a proper Tamilian, I like pumpkins, senaikizhangu, seppangizhangu, sakkarai valli kizhangu, chow-chow etc... Now, I don't know the English equivalents of many of these veggies. To me, they will always be in Tamizh.

I found 'kasturi manjal' in the grocery shop this past weekend. I got so excited that I shrieked,

"Is that kasturi manjal?"

I have no idea why I was so elated because I never use it anywhere! Maybe because it was a whiff of home?

So my friend sniffed around a bit and confirmed my deduction.

So, in true Indian style, I pinched off a teeny tiny bit of kasturi manjal (That's all you buy, you know. I am pretty sure none will buy 2 lbs of kasturi manjal!) and dropped it in a biiiiiiiiig grocery bag. And humming happily, I finished the rest of my shopping and headed off to checkout.

The checkout person almost thought it was an empty bag (He was a rather cute college kid. You know, the ones with a cute, lost expression?). Then he fished around the bag and found my teeny, tiny bit of kasturi manjal. He gave it a rather curious look.

"What's this?"

"Ummm..I don't know."

A pause. What could you call kasturi manjal? I was quickly thinking of a translation for "kasturi". Ok, maybe I could translate "manjal" easily. "manjal" is turmeric. So it is kasturi turmeric? He was looking at that tiny piece from different angles. Like it was going to yield an answer if he looked at it from a 47 degree angle! I could sense the "Lady, you don't know what you're buyin'??" hovering in the air.

So I hastily covered it up with a,

"Ohh..I know what it is but I don't know the English equivalent!"

"Uhh..ok..Hey Cathy, you know what this is?"

Cathy now turned around. I was feeling like a terrorist who was passing customs. She looked at it and thought for a few moments and said,

"Oh, that's Tindora. It is an international produce."

I sighed with relief. It had a name, after all. So, people, its tindora! :) It is sitting in my fridge and I haven't touched it since the day I got it. But I like having it around...:)

The Vancouver Diaries- IV

Days that were really important to me - the day I stepped into my first school, the day I met my best friend, first crush, first love, first major disappointment, first job, prom, graduation - have all been surprisingly very ordinary, mundane days! No firecrackers in the background. No razzmatazz. No appropriate ambience (rain on a disappointing day, sunny when I have a crush etc...). No background music. Just ordinary, sometimes even boring, days. Funny how appearances can be so deceptive! Little did I know back then that the nondescript rainy, grey day I stepped into Vancouver was going to be the beginning of a rich set of experiences, one that'd mould me in ways I'd not even imagined....

We were put up at the Tropicana Motor Inn on Robson Street for the first three weeks or so. I was recovering from severe jetlag. My dad had to go to work almost the next day. My brother and I had to wait for two weeks before we could get our student authorization and go to school. So my mom, brother and I spent our days sleeping, eating, watching TV. TV watching is a funny experience when you can't follow the accent that well. We used to religiously watch a series of programs just to understand the accent!

10.00 AM Charlie's Angels
11.00 AM Remington Steele
12.00 PM Mission Impossible
[break for lunch]
3.00 PM Spiderman
and so on!

There was a wonderful Icecream place on Robson (not sure if its there now) called "Cows". The icecream is just heavenly there. I was still on a rigorous diet while my brother enjoyed icecreams and annoyed me. I had just graduated to eating rice with saltless dal.

*************************

"Ummm...what is this?"

"Dear, this is your class schedule. Okay?", my high school counselor, Mrs. Gioia, said.

I was staring at a piece of paper that looked something like this with a legend underneath:

Monday A B Lunch C D
Tuesday E F Lunch G H
Wednesday B A Lunch D C
Thursday F E Lunch H G
Friday A B Lunch C D

"These are your blocks for today", she continued.

I was mystified. For me, blocks were something that two-year-olds played with. What in the world were blocks? And what was with the confusing schedule? It seems so simple now but back then, it was a huge effort for me to figure it out!

I staggered out the door heading for Block F in Room 203, North building. I had no idea where North Building was.

"Uh..excuse me. Where's the North building?" I asked a huge, straggly giant with a spiky hairdo.

He gave me a weird look that had "Dude, where are you from?" written all over it and wordlessly pointed at a door.

I was already late for class. I ran around looking for Room 203. I didn't know 203 would be in the second floor..:) I had to figure it out by trial and error! When I finally did find it, huffing and puffing, it was locked. There was none there. I was near tears. I ran back to my counselor. She made a couple of phone calls and directed me to go to the library. Class had adjourned there for some project.

I went to the library (this was another big Crusade for me to find the library) to find a bunch of students in different states of poring over some textbooks. I looked around wondering what to do all the while, quite aware that 20-something people were staring at me furtively. An old guy with spectacles walked by and said,

"Can I help you?"
"Yeah..uhh..here for Social Studies. I am new.."

He stared at me over his glasses and directed me to a table where three other kids were already seated. A girl looked up and said a bright hello. I was a bit relieved. I smiled slightly.

"Your assignment - a report on Pierre Trudeau. Class has already been working on it the past two weeks. Due on Friday. Must be typed and two pages long." He barked.

Who in the world was Pierre Trudeau? Report - what sort of a report? Typed? I don't have a computer as yet. Where do I type it? Great, Friday is tomorrow and I have no clue what all this is!

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"Okay, kids, today we are going to watch a comedy piece. You've been given a questionnaire. I expect you to turn it in end of class. All questions are from this piece we are going to watch. Ok?"

Mr. Bain was my Career and Personal Planning teacher.

What is CAPP? They have classes for this?!!! What in the world....

I was mystified. I was sitting at a table with 6 other Chinese kids. They were all chattering away in Cantonese ignoring me completely.

Jeez, did I come to Canada or China? Why are they not talking to me?

I tried a feeble "hi" to the girl next to me but she turned her face away. Great, I thought. Just what I need.

Meanwhile, Mr. Bain rolled a TV into the class and turned off lights.

Is this even a class? We are going to watch TV inside a classroom?? Ok, let's see..

A tall, lanky guy with weird hair zooms into an apartment. He says something to a short, fat, bald guy called George.

What in the world? I can't understand the accent at all! Why is everyone laughing?! Just because the guy walked in the door??!

Tall, lanky guy opens refrigerator and takes a drink. Jerry looks at him.

Everyone's laughing again?? Why am I so dumb? I can't figure out anything! Oh my god, I can't relate to anything/anyone here! How am I going to survive?

At the end of the class, I hadn't really latched onto one single dialogue. I didn't find anything funny and I was staring desperately at the questionnaire in my hand wondering how to complete it. It was for 10 points which made it even worse.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was my first introduction to Seinfeld! :) Oh and I'd have to be the first kid in Burnaby North to have scored a pathetic 3/10 on a quiz about a Seinfeld episode..:))

And thus began life at Burnaby North Higher Secondary School!

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All these memories are like wine - the older, the better! One of my best friends, Monica, once gave me "That Boy is Mine" by Monica and Brandi as a birthday gift. In "Angel of Mine" from that album, there's a line that goes, "Now I know why they say that the best things in life are free..". I think its true. Would I be what I am today without all those experiences? Would my life have been the same if I hadn't met some wonderful people in Vancouver?

The diary will flip its next page soon...