Acham Enbadhu Madamaiyada..!

The 1960's in Tamilnadu must have been a time of revolutionary ideas, fiery leaders and pumped-up "I-can-do-it" attitude. It was the time when the DK was rising to power rapidly (There was no DMK-ADMK split yet) with its Tamizh-pride and anti-Hindi stances. I am not sure if the DK had already formulated its "Thani Tamizhnadu" (separate Tamilnadu) philosophy but to reach out to the masses and inspire them, the DK found a hero in Maruthur Gopala Ramachandra Menon (MGR).

MGR teamed up with Kavichakravarthy Kannadasan (lyricist), Mellisai Mannar MS Viswanathan and singer non-pareil, T.M. Soundararajan to deliver some of the most memorable songs of yesteryears. The simple lyrics were calculated to send a message to the masses while inspiring them with Tamil pride and courage. And of course, the foot-tapping melodies made sure that the songs would become a favourite in rural outposts! I am ambiguous about the MGR-DK agenda but one can't but appreciate the creativity that spawned such wonderful songs!

As I was driving to work, I was listening to "Acham Enbadhu Madamaiyada" from the film "Mannadhi Mannan". Even today, as I listen to it, I feel uplifted and enthusiastic. The lyrics go something like this:

அச்சம் என்பது மடமையடா!
அஞ்சாமை திராவிடர் உடமையடா!
ஆறிலும் சாவு, நூறிலும் சாவு,
தாயகம் காப்பது கடமையடா!

கனகவிசயரின் முடிதலை நெறித்து
கல்லினை வைத்தான் சேர மன்னன்!
இமய வரம்பினில் மீன் கொடியேற்றி
இசைபட வாழ்ந்தான் பாண்டியனே!

கருவினில் வளரும் மழலையின் உடலில்
தைரியம் வளர்ப்பாள் தமிழன்னை!
களங்கம் எழுந்தால் பெற்றவள் மானம்,
காத்திட எழுவான் அவள் பிள்ளை!

வாழ்ந்தவர் கோடி, மறைந்தவர் கோடி!
மக்களின் மனதில் நிற்பவர் யார்?
மாபெரும் வீரர், மானம் காத்தவர்
சரித்திரம் தனிலே நிற்கின்றார்!

Listen to the song here!

These days, every Tom, Dick and Harry actor gets a "cool" nick-name whether its applicable/desirable or not. But in those days, I really think MGR deserved his title "Puratchi Thalaivar"! The genius of these artists has always been largely under-appreciated. They didn't have the luxury of media exposure and the Internet that people have these days. But their art lives on and will continue for decades....

There are many perks to an adult working life. But more than anything else, I L.O.V.E it because it confers on me three fundamental freedoms --

- freedom to use the restroom whenever I want (oh yeah, this is Numero Uno on the list!)
- freedom to eat when I am hungry
- freedom to drink water without being at the mercy of some eccentric teacher

With respect to the above three things, I am not sure how your experiences have been in schools. Mine have been rather, erm, interesting.

Asan Memorial in Chennai was good. We used to eat under the desks in between classes or even during a class (of course, without the knowledge of the teacher!). I was a kid and had limited inhibitions. I've asked to use the restroom in the middle of a class and teachers were usually accomodating. Restrooms were in good condition and had plenty of water. Of course, there were those kids who'd do it for a chance to just get away from the boring classes and teachers would deal rather sternly in those cases.

When I entered my teens, it became a bit complicated. In TVS Lakshmi, Madurai, you had rules for girls to use the rest room. I don't know if its just conservative mofussil towns or what, but boys would stare if a girl asked to use the toilet. The entire class would come to a grinding halt and all heads would be turned in the boys section toward the Girl Who Asked To Go. It was ridiculous! Sometimes teachers would refuse. What person in their normal senses would refuse a request for a basic need?!!?

Coming from cosmopolitan Chennai, I was unaware of all the "toilet" rules but I was enlightened soon. I outraged the modesty of all girls in the class by asking to use the restroom in front of a male teacher.

1. Don't ask to go before a male teacher. Heights of immodesty! Even if you are desperate, you have to preserve your modesty and die in your seat.
2. You have to secretly whisper it in the teacher's ears. You can't just raise your hand and speak from your place. That's for boys!
3. Don't use the dreaded "Toilet" word. That's yucky! Say "Please excuse me for a few minutes". That's more ladylike!
4. Don't look at the boys section when you get back. Lower your eyes and sit down.

It seems kinda stupid now but back then, I followed it because that's what everyone did. A lot of girls wouldn't drink water during class hours because of this problem. Girls restrooms weren't always clean at TVS Lakshmi. During peak summer, there wouldn't be water in the restrooms.

Things were similar in Trichy where I did my college. Girls were not supposed to go in the middle of class hours. But I was older, wiser and bolder for my high school experience in Canada. Once, a stupid Civil Engineering professor refused permission. I walked out of the class. That raised a huge uproar and I was summoned to the Staff Room. It just goes to show how ridiculous people can sometimes be!

It was a similar story with drinking water. You have to ask "permission". If guys do it without permission, that's understandable because "boys will be boys". But girls?! Oh no, we're supposed to be prim and proper even at the cost of our health.

I understand the need for teachers to maintain order in the class and all that jazz. But I think teachers sometimes take it to inhuman extents. I know of hundreds of girls who were dehydrating themselves because of this stupid rule. Is that good for our women in the long run?

Hopefully things have improved now in the schools of TN!

Working in the Summer

Everyone in the US is talking about sky-high gas prices, cutting energy costs, going green etc..Awareness amongst people is definitely growing. Grocery chains like Whole Foods & Kroger have eschewed the use of plastic bags and are promoting re-usable cloth bags. Last week, I was pleasantly surprised to see Kroger & Walmart doing away with plastic bags!

We got these huge 'Naidu Hall', 'Pothys' cloth bags as remnants of my wedding saree shopping. I don't know why we decided to cart them to the US but they seem to be the wonder of the world here :) The Whole Foods cashier girl stops for a second to admire them every time we go. They also give me wooden nickels for every bag that I re-use. For every wooden nickel that customers donate, Whole Foods gives 10 cents to various charitable causes. S gets a kick out of deciding which cause he's going to donate to.

While all this is good, I wish they would do something about buildings in the US. These buildings have been designed to work only with artificial lighting. Even in the blazing summer when the Sun God decides to shine till 9.30 PM, we have lights on in the office buildings and shopping malls! For instance, Lowe's near my house is huge, big warehouse with zero windows. If they had skylights or huge windows every 10 feet, there wouldn't be a need for electrical lighting.

Besides, sitting in dark cubicles with harsh white lights on makes everyone sick. I get headaches in the office which vanish when I take a walk in the sun for 15 minutes! My tropical body is not designed for 60 F A/c either! Sigh. So I walk around with a sweater in the office all day. What's the point of wearing nice clothes to work if you have to drape a sweater over them anyway? I go to work looking like a hobo with faded jeans, wrinkled T-shirts etc..You get the picture.

Well-dressed people are important for eye-candy and give you something interesting to chew about (at least women) --

'That red top looks good. I need to get it!'
'Maybe I should get the capris that go with it too...she looks good in it!'

Therefore, the overall productivity of the US workforce will increase if more natural light is allowed in offices. You can tell I am desperate.

Dasavataram Experience...

400-500 of us were packed into Danbarry theaters in Cincinnati on Sunday evening. The A/c was not turned on. It was sweltering hot inside. Tickets were oversold for 'Dasavataram'. People who had arrived 20 minutes earlier before showtime couldn't find seats. The person next to me had "reserved" seats for his friends/family with empty coke bottles, kerchiefs, napkins, popcorn boxes etc..There were many like him in the audience. There were shouts of "Alwarpettai Andavaaa..thalaivaa!" in the enthusiastic audience. A lot of people were standing in the back row because of the tickets confusion. Some people had to refund their tickets and return disappointed.

It was a typical Indian cinema experience! :) For a minute, I wondered if I was back in Chennai.

I wouldn't call this movie a total disappointment. The racy screenplay was engaging and the fast pace of the movie left little time to ruminate. However, Kamalhassan could definitely have avoided these overt make-up gimmicks. Some of the roles would've been better if played by others.

What I liked:

1. Screenplay

2. Intelligent weaving of chaos theory concepts

3. Boovarahan, Balram Naidu, Paatti. The portrayal of Boovarahan was particulary touching and authentic. I was moved by this character. The Paatti was funny because she used language that reminded me of my own grandmother..:)

4. No stupid duets in unnecessary places. Even the songs were effectively used to move the screenplay on. Good job!

5. The first out-and-out thriller/chase Tamil movie I've seen with biotech terrorists and what-not.

6. Questions about the existence/non-existence of God. Beautifully portrayed! Makes the audience question co-incidences.

7. The Tsunami scene. What I didn't realize through 4 years of articles and media coverage, I realized in those 5 minutes of the movie -- the scale of disaster, the impact on the average person etc...Very poignant, touching scene!

8. Napoleon looked the part as the Chola king. Was pleasantly surprised! His Tamil sucked though. I was thinking that he'd make a good Periya Pazhuvettarayar if 'Ponniyin Selvan' is ever made.

What I didn't like:

1. The deliberately inflammatory Rangarajan Nambi episode. I am not an exclusive Saivite nor am I an anti-Vaishnavite. But I was offended by this portrayal of Saivism. The lines from the song "Kallai Mattum Kandaal.." --

"Ettukkul Aindhu adangividum Aanal
Aindhukkul ettu adangaadhu.."

(Meaning: The eight-lettered Namo Narayanaya can encompass the five-lettered Nama Shivaya. But five letters cannot contain 8)

particularly inflamed me. If we're talking about Vaishnavites being victimized in the 12th century, let's talk about what's happening today in Srirangam and other Vaishnavite-dominated places. I've personally been discriminated against in Srirangam many, many times (within and without the temple).

2. Music. Himesh Reshamaiyya has single-handedly delivered a mortal blow to this movie.

3. The feet-licking sycophancy in the last scene -- what relation has Karunanidhi to this movie?!

4. Make-up overkill. Could've easily avoided 5-6 roles. Many of the characters didn't have depth and weren't developed well.

5. The Rangarajan Nambi episode didn't tie in with the rest of the story. If any of you knows how it relates, please do comment.

6. The title 'Dasavataram' has very minimal relation to the storyline. And that leads me to..

7. The movie is about Kamalhassan, the man and not about the story/characters/roles. This, according to me, is THE biggest drawback. Even the title is about the man doing 10 roles.


Definitely watchable once or twice!

Young Men in Spats - Page 123

In response to IBH's book tag: "The tag is about the book that you are currently reading, turn to page 123, count till line 5 and write down the lines after that!"

"But listen..."
"Good night, Mr. Widgeon."

The aunts said good night, too, and so did the butler. The girl Dahlia preserved a revolted silence.

From " Young Men in Spats" -- P.G. Wodehouse

I was looking for Jeeves-Wooster stories at the public library. Couldn't find a single one, darn it! So I settled for "Young Men in Spats".

'Dasavatharam', Cholas and Racism...

S is dead-stubborn that we should watch 'Dasavatharam' playing in Cincinnati this Sunday. We got the tickets yesterday. I wasn't (am) not very excited about it because I have my own personal grudge against this movie.

In one of the roles, Kamal plays Rangarajan Nambi of Srirangam. Rangarajan Nambi gets persecuted (in the movie) by Kulothunga Chozha I for his Vaishnavite faith. Kanniks told me that this role was based on Sri Ramanujar's life. Now, I have my own soft corner for the Cholas and I refuse to vilify these kings who nurtured Saivism/Vaishanvism alike and endowed millions to Vaishnavite temples (including Srirangam. There's an inscription in the temple to support this).

Personally, I've always felt that the Tamilnadu government glorified the Pandyas and the Pallavas while ignoring the Chozha heritage of TN. We hear of Narasimha Pallava of Mahabalipuram fame and the Tamil Sangam nurturing Pandyas of Madurai often in the history books. Why are Chozhas not given as much prominence? What about Raja Raja Chozha who retrieved the Tamizh devarams from ruin? I've never read more than 2 lines dedicated to Raja Raja Chozha or Rajendra Chozha.

Coming from the heart of Chozha countries, some of these things strike close to heart. Assuming that Kulothunga Chozha indeed was a religious fanatic, why single out Chozhas for religious persecution?! What about the Pandyan who massacred the Jains near Madurai? What about Narasimha Pallava/Mahendra Pallava who did the same?

I'll reserve final judgement after I see the movie. Watch out for more rants on this space..:)

Telephone guilt

The Mr. is gone to a traffic class all evening today, the result of getting a speeding ticket about 3 months back. You get to escape the hefty dollar fine by signing up for a 3.5 hour class. PB told me once that this lecture was actually quite engrossing. I'll find out from S tonight..:)

I hate cooking alone without conversational company. So I dialed a few friends I haven't called in ages. I always dread calling people after a looooong time. I can never tell what the opening gambit will be:

a) a gushing "Wow! How are you? I have so much to tell you...!" OR
b) a sarcastic "Oooh, you actually remember me?!! Glad you could spare a few minutes from your schedule!"

With a), the conversation just flows and you never feel the long gap in communication. With b), everything goes downhill from the first moment. This happened today. My friend tried to make me feel very guilty for not calling. I spent time justifying myself and explaining in detail my busy, daily schedule. In the end, I was exhausted and he was frustrated and neither of us got to really catch-up on our respective lives.

I've played this game myself sometimes. But that lasts for 30 seconds. This lasted 30 minutes. I think that sometimes it pays to take some things for granted -- like friendship. If a person's commitment/trust is continually called into question and one has to prove oneself almost daily, it becomes annoying. This is precisely the reason I don't call relatives as well!

Sometimes, when you have face-time with a person, all these guilt-games fade into inconsequence. Do telephonic conversations play-up insecurities and maybe, hasten the end of some relationships?

Brands of 10 things I currently can't live without..

1. Internet

E-mail, photos, feed reader, blog, maps -- Google rules my life while I surf the web!

2. Yogurt & Buttermilk -- Organic Stone Valley Whole Milk Yogurt with Cream on Top & buttermilk

I have a tendency to put yogurt on anything I eat as a finishing
course -- curry, rotis, it really doesn't matter! :) I can't survive
without yogurt/buttermilk for a week!

3. Toothbrush -- Colgate

Honestly, I am not consciously inspired/loyal to Colgate. I've been using it since I was a kid and I don't see any reason to complain. So I stick with it. It is one of those things I take for granted.

4. Coffee -- Bru

For while I tried Nescafe. But nothing beats our good, old Bru!

5. People

I guess I don't have a brand for this one but the ones that are fun, lively and kind would make the cut..:) I can't survive without some kind of human contact everyday..

6. Cellphone -- Samsung T509

My first cellphone in the US was a Samsung which I absolutely loved. It was easy to use and the battery life was amazing. It didn't switch off randomly and the software was pretty intuitive. The next phone was the disastrous Moto RaZr which I bought in a fit of aattu mandhai mentality. Boy, did I regret it! After 2 years of it, I drove S crazy by insisting that I'll buy ONLY Samsung. This is one brand I am very loyal to!

7. Laptop -- Lenovo (nee IBM) Thinkpad

I am a huge fan of Thinkpads. I love their light-weight feel and the cooling system is the best I've seen. I own two Thinkpads..:)


8. Music --

iPod, iTunes, my car's mp3 player and my hardy laptop -- these things provide my daily fix of music. I guess there's no one brand I go to for my music.

9. Shoes -- Reebok

I am not a brand name junkie, in general. But when it comes to shoes, it makes a difference what you wear. Especially if you run/walk a lot. I like my current Reebok sneakers.

10. Videocam -- Sony

I use this to capture most of the memorable moments in my life. What'll I do without thee?

Carnatic musicians and the music lovers of today..

I cannot claim great theoretical knowledge of Carnatic music nor can I identify 200 different ragas in the bat of an eyelash. Expert musicians may frown at me because I can't tell Huseni apart from Nayaki. But I listen to lots of music and have strong opinions on music/musicians. I think D.K. Patammal's rendition of "Mamava Pattabhirama" is THE best. I might not like Sanjay's Abhogi as much as I like his Darbar. I like to listen to Maharajapuram Santhanam's Raga Dwijavanthi when I want to be soothed but I'd listen to the same Raga by Sudha Ragunathan if I want to feel hyper. It is my pet peeve that most artists sing "Anandamritakarshinim.." in Raga Amritavarshini like an express train and lose the beauty of Raga Amritavarshini. And I believe next to Sri Muthuswami Dikshithar, Ilayaraja is the king of Amritavarshini (Thoongadha Vizhigal Rendu from Agni Nakshathiram)!

I am sure there are millions of other novices like me who have similar ideas. Meet the new generation of armchair music philosophers. I am sure this clan existed as long as music has but this generation is more empowered. Technological profileration in the form of iPods, portable mp3/CD/Cassette players have helped this on. But the attitude of the music-listening public has changed as well. I don't have to wait until December season to buy expensive concert tickets to listen to T.M. Krishna or Sanjay or Nithyasree in full form. I can listen to music in the privacy of my own home/car when and where I choose to. Thanks to the Internet, I can listen to thousands of songs from lots of different artists. I form opinions & expectations even before I go to a concert.

I am stating the obvious here. So what does this new generation audience mean to performing artists? Familiarity breeds contempt. If a musician falls into a pattern of singing songs from his/her CDs all the time and does it in the exact same style, will the audience enjoy it? No more than once or twice. This is precisely what happened with me at the Aruna Sairam concert last week.

I like Aruna Sairam but this concert was like listening to one of her CDs. She sang Nannu Vidachi in Reetigowlai the exact same way as I've heard her in iTunes. Most songs didn't have raga alapana or neraval. They were just renditions of flat, straight-up krithis. Besides, the audience asked for 4-5 tukkadas which've been sung by her a thousand times before! I could almost guess even before she started --

Enna kavi padinalum in Nilamani
Baje Mrudunga in Darbari Kanada
Madu Meikkum Kanne -- Folk

I was looking for something new/refreshing and I was disappointed! How much can an artist afford to satisfy the audience?! Wouldn't it be like getting into a rut? In today's world where music is so freely available, I don't think artists can afford to get into a predictable pattern of songs.

I am very much a fan of Aruna Sairam. I believe the bhavam she brings to songs is quite hair-raising. But I would definitely like to see her improvise, sing new songs and startle the audience once in a while.

T.M. Krishna Concert

I am writing this post in a pleasant, food-induced stupor (Vegetable pulao + raitha). I have to say that I've surpassed myself this time with the pulao! Yummmm..Of course, my pulao has nothing to do with T.M. Krishna's brilliant concert last week in Cincinnati..:-)

Frankly, I didn't go to the concert expecting too much. I like T.M. Krishna and own a couple of his CDs but I've never been raving fan of his. But he managed to convert me into a believer in the span of 3 hours and 45 minutes! It was a classic, traditional Carnatic concert replete with Ragam Tanam Pallavi. What really attracted me in this concert was the refreshingly off-beat krithis that were chosen in very common Ragas. The ragas he chose for the evening were quite crowd-friendly -- Ananda Bhairavi, Kamas, Sankarabharanam, Atana, Riti Gowlai, Hamsanandi and Salaga Bhairavi. When he started on Atana, I thought he'd sing Tyagaraja's "Yela Nee Dayaradu" or Sivan's "Nee Iranga Enil". Surprisingly, he embarked on "Kumaralaya Nagara.." by Swathi Thirunal. For the main piece of the evening in Sankarabharanam, he chose "Dakshinamurthe.." in Misra Jhampa talam.

The Ragam Tanam pallavi was also quite an interesting piece demonstrating his mastery over intricate talams and ragas. He started off in Ritigowlai in a 10-beat cycle. In the pallavi section ("Dasaratha Bala Rama Chandraiyya"), he cascaded onto Mohanam, Dhanyasi, Kalyani before coming back to Riti Gowlai.

I think T.M. Krishna is half-way there on his way to greatness. I'd have loved to seen a bit more bhavam in his singing along with technical flourishes. This week its Aruna Sairam in Cincinnati. More on that concert next week....

Random rant to vent and make me feel better

Yesterday morning, I found out that a first cousin of mine has cancer. It was diagnosed recently and she had to go through surgery. I am quite fond of this cousin and it hurt me that she had to go through this trauma. We share a lot of similarities of personality and I see part of myself in her. That's why it hit home.

If she can get it, I can too (someday) because we share the same genes.

The worst thing is that she came to my wedding and she was already silently suffering.

News like this sends me into the "Why us, Dear God?" mode first. As I drive to work, all failures/frustrations in the extended family flash through my mind's eye -- failed marriages, cases of black magic, illnesses, heartbroken parents, fatherless children, shattered dreams. I don't talk with all my family members all the time but I think about them often. And each time some tragedy strikes, its like a wound in the collective consciousness. I feel it as much as the affected people do.

And of course, on days such as these, the universe tests one's patience by sending other irritants. I almost got hit by stupid drivers twice on my way to work -- once on the freeway and once on the exit from the freeway. Both these drivers decided to cut across lanes without indicators. For the first time in my life, I gave vent to road rage. Then, I had to end up reading about the Congo war and that caused even more misery.

Anyways, end of rant. Hopefully the sun will smile from the clouds soon enough..:)

In my random afternoon browsing , I ran across this article about the war in Congo. Incidentally, NPR ran a feature about the same war yesterday in their "All Things Considered" program. I suppose I should be used to these kinds of brutalities now after hearing about Darfur, Iraq, Afghanistan etc...But I am not and I felt an overwhelming physical urge to just throw up after reading this article..:( Having to hang your own baby with your hands?! Jeez.

But the maturity of this woman is stunning. Hats off to her!

Zawadi has one big wish. She wants the Interahamwe, the Rwandan Hutu
militia, driven from the forests of Congo. "Do you also," I ask her,
"want these men, the ones who destroyed your family, to be punished,
tracked down and killed for what they did?"
Her answer is the same as a year ago: "No I don't. I still feel
that I don't want those people to be killed. I know that God will judge
them."

Can we really ignore where we're from?

I watched Jodhaa Akbar. I loved it mainly because of Hrithik's performance as a dignified yet vulnerable emperor who's trying to woo a proud woman. This might never have happened in history but I loved the performance anyway (The scene where Maham Anga is briefing a sheepish Hrithik who gets distracted by his beautiful wife is class)!

Fueled by this movie, I began a frenzy of reading about the Mughals. All the Mughals except Akbar were well-read and they're surprisingly candid in their memoirs. I've read bits and pieces of Babur's writings, Jahangir's memoir, Aurangzeb's letters and the Ain-i-Akbari. History books have always emphasized that the Mughals after Babur were quintessentially Indian having been born and raised in Hindustan. I had also come to think of the Mughals as Indians and the British rule as an unjust "foreign" rule.

However, what really shocked me was how most of these Mughal emperors (except Akbar) viewed themselves as "outsiders" and "superior" beings to the local populace. Babur openly writes that he hates the clime and the "infidel" people of "Hindoostan". He viewed himself as a "ghazi" or holy warrior. Jahangir was openly a religious zealot and believed that his was the superior clan. Shah Jahan seems to have followed the pattern. Aurangzeb was perhaps the worst of them all. In one of his letters to his sons, he tells him to hold "firm to his faith" and to persecute the "infidels" mercilessly by torturing them. I can understand the "hold firm to your faith" part but torture your own subjects just because their non-believers? That too, 150 years after your ancestors entered Hindustan and adopted the country?

History books also seem to have mislead us by parroting that everyone was happy under Mughal rule and that the Britishers were the "bad guys" who fostered dissessions. Based on all these memoirs, it sure feels like the Hindu-Muslim discord was always there festering under the calm veneer of society. The flames were fanned higher by Aurangzeb who made it a point to destroy Hindu temples to build his palaces and places of pleasure. I don't think the resentment felt by the Hindu population chafing under Mughal rule was ever resolved. Before it reached a healthy conclusion, the Britishers took root in the land but it was always there, lurking. Godhra, Babri Masjid et al.. are just occasional outbursts of that resentment.

To some extent, I feel cheated. I know it sounds silly after 500 years. But here we are, preening our Mughal heritage to the world, crowing about Mughal paintings, music and the Taj Mahal as examples of beautiful, "Indian" art while the king who created it really felt like he was a Persian and not really part of Hindustan! :(

Being immigrants to the US, a lot of us face the same conundrum the Mughals faced. We want to hold onto our faith, our beliefs, our culture but we also try to blend in. How much blending in is acceptable? How much will make us just "one of them"-- a betrayer of our faith and values? Can we ever ignore the fact that we're Indian and make decisions excluding that fact? At least for first-generation NRIs, I don't think it is possible. No matter how many years you've lived in your adopted country, the call of the homeland will always be in the blood and it will always resound stronger than any other call.

The My-Five Tag

Umm..err..the thing that has come out of trying to write this tag is this re-discovery of how crappy some (most?) of my previous posts have been. Bad English, bad usage, could've rephrased some sentences etc.. The list goes on. But here they are..

Family

My forays into personal, familial stuff on this blog has always been cautious and limited. Lots of relatives, friends and extended family read this blog and that's always a deterrent..:) I've been flirting for a while with starting an anonymous blog where I can say anything I want. But I've been stumped by what to call it.

Anyhoo, in what little glimpses I've given of my family in this blog, my baby brother, dad and this rant make an appearance.

Me, me, me!

If you just surf through the archives, you'll find that's what this blog is all about: ME. There's a lot of useless info here including what I like, what I don't like, what drives me nuts, who I like etc..:) If you don't know me much, here's two posts you can read to acquaint yourself -- here and here.

Friends

One of the best trips I had in the US was to the Niagara. I went with Priya and Venky back in 2005 and it was quite a memorable trip. Apart from the usual sight-seeing stuff, there were some, umm..err, very funny incidents on the trip. Since Venky might not agree with me, I dare not post them here..:) But this is what I wrote after we came back from Niagara. Here's a post I wrote with fond memories about my childhood friend Gunpun here.

I daresay there have been lots of posts here about friends. Surf around if you want to find more..:)


My love

Of course, it is marathamizhan..:) Then come the beautiful temples of TN and Tamizh!

What I like

Music, Pets, Indian handicrafts and arts and writing in this space.

In which I manage to successfully throw garbage on a bitter cold, ice-rain day

I am watching Friends ("In which they play touch football on Thanksgiving day") as I write this. So you can tell where my title inspiration came from. Tomorrow is garbage day in the area where we live. When we were dividing household responsibilities, I'd sneakily managed to push off putting out garbage onto S's list. I claimed the delicacy of the fairer sex and my perpetual cold hands/feet in winter. Anyone who has had to do garbage in the winter will vouch that it requires physical endurance. You have to attire yourself for the cold and brave the icy, whipping winds. You see, I really do have valid reasons for getting S to do it. So this can't really be categorized as sneaky.

Anyhoo, we usually only remember garbage day when we notice our punctual neighbors' garbage cans outside as we drive to work. By then, of course, it would be too late to go back home. We'd solemnly tell each other that next time, we would definitely remember to do the garbage on time instead of letting it hibernate in our garage for one more week. You all know how that story would've carried on.

S is out of town for some days. So this glorious responsibility of throwing garbage fell on me this week and wonder of wonders, I actually remembered! On this horrible ice-rain, sleet and slush-rain day, the brave trooper decided to do her duty. She knew it would be cold and bundled herself up in two sweatshirts, gloves, hat and a scarf. What the brave trooper didn't know was that the driveway would be all covered by ice. As I moved my car to wheel the garbage cans out, the car started slipping. Brakes and handbrake didn't work. So I just let the car slowly slip down to the curb and then parked it. Now, I put one foot on the driveway and fell with a resounding thud. No worries, I thought, I've got to put the garbage out. I managed to crawl my way up to the house and rolled out the garbage. Mission accomplished with two more falls, a few grazes and some ungraceful, waltzing on the ice. Whew.

Now, I wanted to park the car back in the garage. This was seeming like an Olympian task to me at this point. The car refused to get any traction on the icy driveway. It slipped, twisted and waltzed its way back to the curb each time I tried. So, after a ten minute fight, I gave up and managed to decently park the car on the curb.

So, here I am, sitting on the couch with hot badam milk, watching "Friends", nursing my sore body but feeling proud about my garbage accomplishment! Go girl power! Now you know why I had to write this. So much adventure for nothing? Naah. Can't let it go without a post! :)

PS: Arun, I've not forgotten your tag. It follows tomorrow.

Yoga Craze

I've become a Yoga freak. Initially, I tried a couple of Ayurvedic home remedies and they worked like a charm. Then, one day, I came home with a tension headache and read somewhere that Sarvangasana (Shoulder Stand Pose) cures tension headaches. I tried it and in a couple of minutes, I was feeling much better! So, I am officially now a Yoga fan. We got this BKS Iyengar book about Yoga yesterday and I am planning to religiously follow a Yoga regimen.

Of course, as with all fads that hit me, let's see if I actually follow this through to completion. But, this one, I really, really, really, really want to do be consistent!:)

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Snakes in Dreams...

I read "Queen of Dreams" by Chita Divakaruni Banerjee in the 10 days before my wedding. Originally, I'd borrowed it from a friend when he went to India. But somehow, it ended up sitting on my shelf for a year without me turning a single page of it. I think I had a pre-conceived notion that the book would put me to sleep (maybe because of the "Dreams" reference in the title..?) and never read it. So, this was my in-flight reading for the trip home for the wedding and if it put me to sleep on the flight, good for me! In between shopping trips, chatting with relatives and mad dashes to the tailor, I finished reading the book.

Honestly, I can't say I was very impressed. The plot was initially very intriguing and definitely seemed to go somewhere. Rakhee is a confused ABCD with a very strange mom. The mom sleeps apart from her daughter and husband. She takes to sudden bouts of illnesses and has strange people visit her. Rakhee stumbles across her mom's diary after her death and reads about her past in snatches. It is a tale of caves, dream-tellers, of time travel and the "Elders" etc..Anyways, I was looking for some clarity and closure toward the end of it all. But there was none. Instead I started wondering if Rakhee's mom was perhaps just, you know, mental and living in two realities.

Anyhoo, the opening passages of the book say that if snakes appear in dreams, they foretell change. When I was between 5 - 15 years old, I would regularly have creepy dreams about snakes. One repetitive dream I had was a five-headed snake slithering down our street calling out my name and when I came out, it would start conversing with me in Sanskrit. Another one was when we'd be playing cricket on our terrace and the ball would fall into the sunshade. I'd climb into the sunshade to get the ball and suddenly find myself mired in a snake pit. None of the snakes in my dream would ever bite me or hurt me. But they'd slither around in their yucky fashion and make me extremely upset. Not that these dreams prevented me from sleeping or anything. But they were just mildly annoying and fatiguing.

My parents consulted some astrologers about this. They said that Mars was very weak in my horoscope and I had to wear a topaz ring to offset the weakness of Mars. I was also told to pray to Lord Muruga every day as he was the commander of all the planets. Well, honestly, I can't say all this helped. Nonetheless, the topaz ring was pretty and I still wear it today..:) I continued having horrible dreams until I was about 17. Then, one fine day, they suddenly ceased.

I don't know if in some Freudian way I'd come to terms with life and therefore, my subconscious stopped surfacing these dreams. Or maybe I'd just gotten used to snakes in some way. Anyways, it was a relief in some ways. Almost everyone I know has some recurring dream or other. What's yours?

Wuthering Heights..

I had this book for non-detailed study in Grade 9. I can confidently say that I never really GOT the book. Oh, I understood what was happening but I couldn't really connect to the spirit of the book at that age. The emotional motivations of the characters were just too complex for me to fathom --- especially the relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine. Why did Heathcliff torture Catherine if he loved her? And why would she lead him on if she liked him and then not marry him?!! In the end, I couldn't really figure out if Heathcliff was a good guy or an utter villain or why he did what he did. I disliked the book.

Last week, a friend forwarded me a short story with a protagonist called Heathcliff. That reminded me of Wuthering Heights and on a whim, I decided to actually read a synopsis of Wuthering Heights. Wonder of wonders, it made a lot more sense to me now than 13 years ago! I think it takes some emotional maturity to understand how intense love can turn into an intense love-hate emotion. By the way, I still believe that if love turns to hate, it was not really love in the first place. But I've seen it happen and I guess I can accept it now.

So, my advice to the designers of school syllabi is: Don't introduce novels just because they're high sounding and have good titles. You're killing the spirit of the literary work by introducing it prematurely to a young audience when they're not capable of appreciating the different shades of the novel. It gives them a dislike of such works.

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Work-arounds!

I was chatting with a colleague at work about a problem in our code. When I mentioned it, his immediate reaction was,

"So, what's the workaround?"

It surprised me because I was expecting more like, "So how do we solve this?"

I guess it is indicative of the times we live in. We are the generation that always wants "workarounds" instead of figuring out why something is happening. This seems to be especially true with health concerns. An acquaintance of mine has severe stomach ulcers. During a phone conversation, I asked him why he'd ended up like this. He just chuckled and said:

"Who cares why? I just want to know how to deal with it!"

Sometimes, I wish God had just made our body transparent; you know, like glass, so you can see through to the internal systems. That way, we'd be more aware of how smoking chokes our lungs in soot; Or how that pizza we're wolfing down is lining our arteries with fat; Or how that sweet donut we reach for every morning is just tiring out our pancreas; Or how our refusal to exercise is just over-working our heart.

I succumb to some unhealthy temptations too (my sweet tooth is one such) but I try to keep it balanced by working out and eating right most of the time. The human body is just an amazing piece of engineering and aesthetics. It is time some of us realized to give it some respect and admiration instead of working around it.

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Don't Blink..It is Pink, Pink, Pink All the Way!

You know how, when you commit to something publicly, you're made to bite the dust immediately? Like the time you turned down dinner invites from friends proclaiming that you're going to the gym that evening and wouldn't miss working out for the world. Then, it turned out that you had a very bad day at work and all you want to do is sit moping on the couch. Of course, it would so happen that the friend in question would call and snicker,

"Hey, I thought you were at the gym??! What're you doing at home? So much for your resolution! You missed a good dinner! Ha!"

It is indeed true, dears, that the Universe loves to mess with your head. It loves embarassing you in front of other people.

I've shouted to the world from rooftops that I don't like the color
pink. When my mother-in-law asked me what color
sarees I would like for the wedding, I had just one condition: No hot
pink or nearby shades. Anything else is fine. I was doing just fine until hubby dear got so attracted to a pink saree with kundan work at Pothy's. While I gulped and swallowed looking for alternatives, my mom and MIL swooped down with admiring cries of "Ooohs" and "aaahs". Umm..err. And so it was, dears, that I added the first-est, pink attire to my wardrobe. Anyways, I think that was an omen -- a sign from the Gods -- to mend my pink-hating ways. By the time I returned to the US after the wedding, I had added 3 more items in pink --

1. 1 gorgeous lehnga in pink courtesy Mum.
2. Kundan set to match the lehnga, also in pink courtesy Mum.
3. One more pink saree courtesy MIL.

Sigh. Honestly, I can't really say I hate those dresses. I mean, they're so gorgeous despite the color! Like I said, these were all signs of what was about to happen to me.

Anyways, not to bore you with all my personal make-over stories. I started off writing this post because I just finished reading "Can you keep a secret?" by Sophie Kinsella. And, dears, I am simply hooked! The story, like the cover, is a hot pink, cutesy, girly-girly plot. I never thought I'd become addicted to chick-lit but I am. The protagonist is simply too funny and preposterous. She gets into all sorts of weird situations but manages to wriggle out in the end! All-in-all, too good to pass up and I had to finish the book in one sitting (4 hours)!

Oh, dears, this doesn't mean that only girls should read this book. If you just want some mindless fun served with a sprinkling of human drama, you should read it! :) And umm..if you want some more of this, you should read the Shopaholic series by the same author. I did. And although I might never, ever get to the point where I love hot pink clothes, I think I've grown to appreciate those who wear it..:)

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I think Gunpun was my first "best friend". Whatever "best friend" means these days. Sometimes you find yourself confiding personal things to colleagues, neighbors or just acquaintances because they're available to listen! S, one of my closest friends, is in India and I hardly get to talk to her these days. So last week, my colleague poured out his kids' illness woes to me and I found myself telling him about my visa problems, green card etc...Anyways, but I do think that Gunpun & I would've grown up together as fast friends if we'd been in the same town.

He moved to Stuart school a few kilometers away from home since Bhagavanlu school was only a nursery school with classes only till Preparatory. I was disconsolate for a week and even cried in class. Besides, I was in Preparatory now (next to UKG) and I had a horrible class monitor called Likki. She was a really thin girl and kept calling me "moti" in class. I even believe she secretly made fun of my plump cheeks. To make things worse, she always made first rank beating me by a couple of marks. Suffice to say, we didn't see eye to eye.

But serendipitously, I got double promoted as well after a couple of months in Prep! So I got to skip 1st grade and go to the 2nd grade. And I was to join Gunpun at Stuart school. Yippeee! I threw tantrums and got into the same section as he was in. I think he was also elated to see me. Mrs. Das, the class teacher, made me sit next to some weird girl. I got all upset because I wanted to sit next to Gunpun. My father told me to be a "good girl" and articulate my request to Mrs. Das myself. But I was terrified of being denied. So I complained loudly to my parents and cried so much that my Dad came down to school one day and told Mrs. Das that I had to sit next to Gunpun. I think he was very annoyed at having to leave work and rush to school mid-day because of his temperamental kid. But it turned out that Mrs. Das was my father's colleague's wife and they had a nice chit-chat about me and everything else under the sun.

Everything turned out OK. Gunpun and I remained best friends. I spent a lot of time at their house. His younger brother, Tathu, was a particularly fun kid to be around with! For a change, Gunpun & I could boss him around because he was younger to us by 2 years. Hehe. He was eager to please us both and he'd do anything we asked him to. Apart from all that, Tathu & I had a bond. I felt all protective about him and he was very affectionate to me (called me his elder sister and all that!). He was a bit naughty though and used to get in trouble with the colony dog -- Balu.

Balu Dog was none's dog in particular but everyone in the colony loved him. He was kinda common property and ate at whosever place he wished to. He was also the protector of the colony. He'd bark and chase down any strangers at night and I think, once, he even caught a thief. Tathu, being the boisterous kid he was, would throw stones at Balu or tie tin cans to his tail. Balu was a very, very patient dog and put up with troublesome kids better than most. Once, my brother put one of his building blocks into Balu's mouth and stuck his hand in to retrieve it. Poor Balu still had his mouth wide open when my Mom rushed out to find my brother happily fishing in his mouth. But Tathu drove Balu nuts. He'd harangue the poor thing so much that Balu would bark loudly and chase him madly down the street. Anyways, none would believe Tathu when he complained against Balu. Such was Balu Dog's standing in Acharya Vihar!

The night before we left Bhubaneswar for good, Balu came to our house and slept in our verandah with a sad face. Somehow, he knew we were leaving. My dad gave him food but he refused to eat. He stayed with us until the last minute when we got in a car to leave. As hard as this is to believe, my parents thought he had tears in his eyes as he watched us go..:(

I don't know if Gunpun & I would've been good friends if we'd grown up together. One never knows about these things. But I'd definitely love to at least know where he is and what he's doing right now. So, Devidutta Panda, if you ever land up on this blog and remember me, do drop me a line! I'd love to catch up on life with you!

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Gunpun, Tathu And Balu Dog

'Tis the cold,miserable weather outside that's making me turn to warm memories for comfort. Hence this nostalgic post.

As a child, I'd like to think I was quite independently minded although, Lily Madam -- my LKG teacher -- phrased it a bit unflatteringly as "stubborn and sometimes moody". I don't think I liked my initial school years very much. Mom had taught me alphabets, numbers, colors, animals, nursery rhymes and what-not even before I went to school. And I found it very boring to sing "A B C D" all day in LKG when I knew how to do it quite well. And what was with all the classwork and homework stuff?

"Write A B CD 10 times"
"Write 1 to 100 10 times"

If I could write 1 to 100 correctly 1 time, what sense does it make to write it 10 times? So I refused to do this absolutely boring homework. I was very logical even when I was 3 and my teacher didn't see my genius. She made us write our homework in the calendar book so parents could monitor them. Because I was refusing to note it down in my calendar, Lily Madam did it herself. The next morning when my Dad came to drop me off at school, she promptly complained to him:

"Your daughter refuses to write her homework down in the calendar. So I do it for her now. And if I ask her to write the alphabets 5 times, she does it just one time! Please check her calendar at home and make sure she does it right."

Hmph. None listens to a 3 year old, anyway. So I was forced to actually do my homework with my mom watching me while I did it. She wouldn't let me play if I didn't finish HW right after school. So, I came up with an ingenious plan. If I had to write numbers from 1 to 100, I'd write 1 to 50 correctly. Then, I'd skip numbers in between. Like, I'd skip 53-59 and 71 to 75 etc...This way, no one could find out and everyone would be happy with their stupid homeworks. Hehehehe. Mom and Lily Madam would scan through the first few rows of numbers and the last few rows (I wouldn't blame them. It must be sooo boring to look at the same numbers in 30 different notebooks). And I'd make sure I wrote them perfectly. In between, I had my freedom to do as I choose!

This actually worked for sometime. But then, one day, mom got suspicious about how fast I was completing my homework and she started scanning everything. She was furious when she found out my little scheme of cheating! I whined to her that she knew I knew how to write 1 to 100 but to no avail. She notified Lily Madam of this trick the next day. Of course, I was out of sorts and hated Lily Madam for the rest of the day. I was sulking, didn't pay attention to her and I kept asking for bathroom breaks. So she unfairly commented that I was a "moody child". Duh.

Here's where Gunpun came in. His real name is Devidutta Panda and he lived down the street from us in Acharya Vihar. My mom decided she needed someone to monitor me at school. She made Gunpun sit next to me in class. I didn't like him at first. After all, what kid likes an overseer? I kept pinching or scratching him so he'd go away to some other desk. But he just put his metal, school box in between us so I couldn't do anything without making a lot of noise and the teacher noticing.

I've forgotten the details of how we came to be best friends or how he managed to win my heart. But I do remember that we'd both do our homeworks in the free period at school. We made it a game -- whoever finished last would have to be the seeker in Hide-n-seek that evening. So both of us would scramble to finish first. And then, he would arrange my notebooks neatly in my school box, sharpen my pencils, make sure I'd not forgotten anything in my desk and escort me to my mom or dad after school. I just loved him! :)

After a point, it became so that I'd listen only to him. If Lily Madam wanted me to practice cursive writing between the 2 lines of the 4 line notebook, she'd tell him. And if he promised to write along with me, I'd do it. We would play in the evenings on the street with his little brother. So it was all wonderful until he got double promoted and moved to a different school.

To Be Continued...

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Who has the charisma?

I've been following the US Presidential race. I've been interested in the race just because of two people -- Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Hillary, if she wins the Democractic nomination, will be the first female candidate for presidence. Obama, if he wins, will be the first colored presidential candidate. Barack Obama won the Iowa caucuses last week in a major setback to Mrs. Clinton. Now she's on the aggressive determined to win New Hampshire this week.

I favor Obama because he also has that indefinable charisma that Bill Clinton effortlessly exudes. When Obama talks, you feel that he's speaking to you personally straight from his heart. There's a very tantalizing honesty to his body language too. I think that being more aggressive, Hillary will reinforce the legend of the cold, calculating, ruthless woman bent on limitless power. As much as I am a supporter of feminist ideals, I do feel the coldness in Hillary's demeanour when she meets people. It's like she's somehow holding back a part of her; Like she's talking to people because she has to but not because she enjoys it.

Anyways, I tip Obama to win the ticket and I like him too! We'll see what happens in New Hampshire.

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On the topic of New Year celebrations...

We threw a huge party for my brother's first birthday. I really cannot include myself in the "we" as in "We threw the party" because I was only 5 years old back then. My parents did most of the work. All I had to do was flaunt my baby brother to everyone and smile for pictures. I have a very misty recollection about it but I do think it was a grand bash. We were in Bhubaneshwar then and all the kids in Acharya Vihar were invited. We even had gifts for all my friends like crayons, pencils, pencil cases, balloons etc...I used to love pencil boxes back then! My mom used to get me one with various Disney characters each time we went to the local superstore.

Of course, people tell me that my first birthday party was an even grander affair because I was the first child and all and Dad had invited all his office colleagues. Fancy that. I hope all of them got me nice presents but since I can't remember any of it, I am willing to forgive them even if they didn't.

Anyways, that is the only party I can recall that our family threw for a birthday. We were never a party family, you know. No cake-cutting or shouts of "Surprise" at midnight or gifts wrapped with shiny silver paper or parents fawning over how wonderful we were or any of those things. In fact, my dad hates to blow out candles on birthdays. He thinks that it should be a day when we light candles, not snuff them out. I agree with him on that point. Birthdays meant that Mom would cook an awesome meal and make nice payasam or some other exotic sweet (This year, when I happened to be in India for my birthday, she made badam cake and pakoras). We would wear our new clothes, go to a nearby temple and perform archanai. And that was that.

The logic extended to New Year also. As kids, I don't think my brother and I were ever awake till midnight on New Year's eve. It was just like any other day. But we'd visit family and friends, watch some special programs on TV, go to a fair or a movie and maybe eat out. But nothing compared to the hoopla we see these days about the "New Year". S & I spent the last moments of 2007 at a friend's place. We played "Sequence" until midnight, broke the bubbly, wished each other with lots of hand pumping et al, ate amazing home-made layered chocolate cake and posed for funny pictures. It was good fun because hanging out with friends is fun. But I wouldn't ascribe any of my joyfulness or levity to the fact that it was New Year's eve. I sometimes don't know what all the fuss is about.

Do people party on New Year's eve because they are celebrating the end of a strenuous year? Or are they celebrating a psychological watershed and decide to grow as a person in the coming year? Or is New Year's just an empty excuse to party? It really does make me wonder because I get these calls on January 1st and everyone asks me, "Soooooooo what did you do yesterday?Please don't tell me you spent it at someone's home? Come on, girl, didn't you hit the clubs?" Personally, I think that it is great to spend New Year's at home or at a friend's place celebrating the things that are important -- companionship, friends and of course, good food..:) I don't think its my cup of tea to go clubbing on New Year's eve with the mad, mad crowds and dance to wild music. I might try it once in a while but certainly not every year.

All that said, Happy New Year to all of you! Hope this year turns out to be a great year for all of you. As far as this blog goes, I think I have to make two solemn promises for this year:

1. I'll try to post more frequently.
2. I'll reply to all comments..:) I know I've been a laggard as far as this goes. I'll promise to be a good girl. There.

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Farewell, 2007 !

January: Trip to India. Went on a grand temple tour of South India culminating in Rameswaram & Dhanushkoti.

February: One of my close friends moves to the US of A. Yippeee!

March: S moves to Lexington. Start having loooong phone conversations with parents in India about wedding plans. It was a bit tense at first because Dad wasn't getting any mandapams in Chennai. One night, I was on the phone with Dad and we were discussing wedding dates. Started bawling on the phone all of a sudden that I wanted my Dad here in the US right away, right now. S was totally confused by my sudden tears and tried to assuage me. Meanwhile, Dad on the phone totally panicked..:)

April: Engaged to S! Party Time! RS & PH devised a jodi porutham type of game for S & I. We scored above 50%! Whew!

May: Nothing much happened here. I just had these umpteen conversations with mom and dad about wedding planning, shopping etc..!

June: RT, N, S & I started practicing Carnatic songs for "Glimpses of India" to be performed at the Univ of KY. This was major fun! :)A good friend in Lex gets married!

July: "Glimpses of India" on Jul 28th! Had a ball of a time performing in a huge auditorium. S&I broke into a major fight soon after that...:) Another friend gets married..!

August: Moved apartments again! Sigh. S made me an amazing necklace for my birthday. India trip again! Whopeee!

September: Married S without PMJs or any other incidents..:) Chennai had a Tsunami alert on the evening of maplai azhaippu. Entire trip was so hectic that we were both looking pretty worn out in our wedding pictures.

October: Friends sent us on a honeymoon to the Great Smoky mountains. Priya was the architect of this trip. Hats off! Started formal Carnatic music lessons again.

November: In-laws were here. Thalai Diwali. New place. A-mazing Thanksgiving party with lotsa jamming, friends and food. This was a rocking month..!

December: So December has rolled around yet again. I think I've fulfilled one resolution from last year -- staying in touch with Carnatic music. I learnt a lot of new krithis and Dinesh told me I've improved vastly! I have not really blogged that much this year compared to previous years' averages. Hopefully, I'll reverse that in 2008. For starters, I personalized this blog a little bit.

Farewell, 2007! I think you've been a good year for me.

Movie Critique

The Break-up:

Unless you're this die-hard fan of Vince Vaughn, please don't see this movie. I don't know who thought up Vince's character in the movie. He seems to be delivering dialogues without commas, punctuations or pauses. Just like the annoying train noise that you hear when you live close to the tracks. And if anyone ever courted me the pushy way he courts Jen Aniston, I think I'd be downright annoyed.

Apart from Vince Vaughn, the story itself seems quite silly. So please don't see it.

Music & Lyrics:

The movie was kinda cutesy in a pink way. But the songs got stuck in my head. Especially the "Way Back Into Love" number. Hugh Grant's role as the funny, lost bachelor is being reprised again. But it is quite passable.

Kannamoochi Yenada:

We've watched one half the movie. So far it has been quite funny and interesting. Sathyaraj, as the girl's dad, is very convincing..:) Very clean comedy too! I am eager to finish watching the movie.

Chak De India:

Best Hindi movie I've seen in recent times. I was observing to S that if a male coaches a female sports team in India, there's usually a scene where the blameless hero gets entangled in sexual harassment allegations and goes home in disgrace. Thankfully, the movie didn't have such cheesy scenes and everyone had acted well! I loved it.

Azhagiya Tamizh Magan:

I've probably seen 20 mins of the movie seeing as I fell asleep after a very sumptuous dinner. So far, its been all Vijay's gyrations & masala. Others who managed to stay awake say that it was passable. Of course, everyone's watched just half the movie. I don't know when I am going to see the rest! :)

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Music mania!

A bunch of music maniacs got together this Thanksgiving holiday at our home. We rented a few instruments from a local music shop, put together a list of film songs and started jamming. Dinesh wanted to sing "recordable" material -- so we sang a few songs for the "record"..:) Arun was our aasthana keyboardist. Sujan & Dinesh were the drummers. RT, me, Nick, Moni and a few others were the vocalists. ANM and Venky were our sound/recording guys. Amidst giggling, musical missteps and flashes of brilliance, we managed to record a couple of songs with probably an hour of practice..:) I consider that quite a feat..

It was fun to have the camaraderie of practicing together;of laughing together at some good and some dead-end jokes; of just just giggling away to glory for the most trivial of things; of just having friends over for the holidays.

Later in the night, after wolfing down pizza, we had a Carnatic music session. It went on and on and on until 2.30 AM in the morning..! :) Finally, exhausted but thoroughly entertained after a long evening, we settled down to just "talk" into the wee hours of the morning..

Here's a song we recorded with our miscues and all..:)

Singers: Subha & RT
Drums: Sujan & Dinesh
Keyboard: Arun

Ahh, it was a memorable thanksgiving! :)

A quote that inspired me...

"What you are is God's gift to you; what you become is your gift to God"

- Andre Agassi

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On being average

It is difficult to be an average person. I don't excel at anything. I am a fairly okay person but I don't exactly blow away people with my personality. At work, I don't have 10 people hanging on to every word I say in a meeting and scuttling off to discuss the ramifications of my comments. As far as looks go, I am far from being a head-turner. I think my paternal grandmother was secretly unhappy with my regular, brown skin. I am an average singer. That means I can't get away with claiming total ignorance. I'll be classified as a snob. Having some basic singing knowledge dooms one to sing with off-key swarams, talams and all associated paraphernalia. Sigh.

Last weekend, S and I went to K's house in Cincinnati for Dikshithar Day. A bunch of very talented musicians get together every year on Muthuswami Dikshithar's anniversary and sing his compositions. There was a veena player, a flutist, two mridangists (S being one of them) and lots and lots of singers. A 12-year old kid captured everyone's hearts with her beautiful renditions of some ghana ragas: Todi, Gowlai etc..In addition to singing flawlessly, she also played the violin! I was dreading being asked to sing in front of all these super-knowledgeable, super-talented people. S, dutifully, called out my name. He, of course, was scintillating on the mridangam and rarely ever worries about being not-talented. I think I managed to acquit myself fairly decently. Chitra Visveswaran's niece was there to demonstrate Mamava Pattabhirama & Rangapura Vihara through abhinayas. She wowed people with her performance and also her looks..:)

So what's my point? That it is extremely hard to be an "average" person and get through life. It is like you don't have any identity at all and it is unfair of God to distribute talent so unevenly. Hmph. Maybe I should try to be a bit eccentric. That way, people will remember me at least as that "weird, eccentric lady who kept pulling funny faces whenever someone tried to talk to her."

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Third Time Lucky..

Twice, I started writing this blog and forgot what I started it for. This is the third time and hopefully, I will remember..:)

We are moving. Again. Between S & I, we've managed 5 moves in one year. This will be our 6th. The thing about frequent moves is that you can never, ever find what you want. You will have forgotten half the things that you own so that when an old boondhi ladle springs out of a cardboard box, you squeal with the delight of ownership: "Ooh..that's so cool!" But the things you do have a memory of will be nowhere to find.

Where's the big tea filter that mum gave me when I came to the US for the first time? I remember it was in the big, grayish-white cardboard box when I moved the first time. Then, it got transferred to the big suitcase with all the vessels? Maybe it is in the topmost shelf above the refrigerator in the kitchen? Hmm..maybe in the cardboard box.

So, you can understand if I am a bit addled in my head right now..:) Anyhoo, the good thing about all this moving is that you get to relive memories of the past. In the name of cleaning, I dig out my college photographs, autograph books, letters that my friends wrote to me while I was in Canada, greeting cards from all previous birthdays etc... It is quite fun and makes you remember how young you once were and what others thought of you then.

So in my current digging spree, I came across this dirty bit of folded, creased paper lodged between some inland postal covers (the blue postal ones in India, you know! Before e-mail, this is how people communicated) and my old autograph book. As I opened it, my frown turned into a smile and then a grin! :)

Flashback. Tortoise rotates..

In my college second year, a guy called GS took a fancy to me. I never did like him much because the only way he showed his liking for me was by passing comments about my eyes and clothes in crowded corridors. But he was exceptionally good at Tamil and I'd heard that he wrote poems. So one day, during a very boring Microprocessor lesson, the professor was droning on and on about interrupts. On a very hot Trichy afternoon with the temperature in the 40s, if you've had heavenly curd rice for lunch, it is very difficult to keep the Goddess of Sleep away especially in the first hour right after lunch.

I was half asleep and doodling on my notes. A sound like suppressed coughing came from my right and I avoided looking in that direction. I did not want to hear any comment from anyone about my eyes. So I kept staring straight ahead when my friend painfully nudged me and thrust a piece of paper in my hands. I turned around and sure enough, I found GS grinning at me annoyingly.

Naan maskable interrupt- aaga irundhaal
Unnai kettu pin kathalithiruppen
Naano non-maskable interrupt
Aagave un utharavinri unnaiye ninaikkinren!

Even though I never did end up liking GS, I liked the the wit and the timeliness in the poem very much. It still brings a smile to my face when I read it.

Weird Tamizh Serials...

Tamizh serials and movies seriously need to be banned. Their sole aim seems to be in keeping our folks immersed in out-of-date ideas. I especially hate some women-centric concepts like:

1. Victim marries rapist because the town tells her that's the right thing to do and he's technically her husband.
2. Bride's father commits suicide because some idiot stopped the wedding right before the muhurtham. Usually, he claims to be the ex-boyfriend and the groom becomes all righteous and decides not to marry a "tainted" girl.
3. Wife commits suicide because her husband leaves her and she's "vaazha vetti".
4. Marriage is a one-time thing for a woman. And if it fails, God forbid, there's no life for the woman after that!
5. Polygamy amongst males is acceptable.

#1 is extremely ridiculous and re-inforced by movies like "Nattamai" and countless serials. How can a woman live with an insensitive guy who doesn't care about her wishes/feelings?


I don't even want to talk about #2. There's still intense societal pressure about honor. Though it is a humiliating thing to happen, I don't see why the bride's father has to die. Societal recognition is not worth dying! People are fickle and they're often wrong.

#3 -- I've seen it almost happen in real-life. Tamizh women are obsessed with this "vaazha vetti" thing. They let go of their body & mind and become obese, stupid creatures. Their excuse: "I am vaazha vetti". Whatever!

#4 -- Indians have an obsession with the "one-time-only" concept in almost anything. There are no second chances, no second life etc..Unfortunately for women, they suffer the worst. There's this article in Vikatan about a guy who cheated and married 100 women through an online matrimony site! 100. And what happens to these poor women? Their marriages are void legally . Is re-marriage even an option for them? I bet their own families wouldn't agree to it!

Serials are the worst culprits here. By broadcasting something repeatedly, they re-inforce these notions and make them acceptable currency. Bah!

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Is there such a thing as over-hospitality?

These days, I feel that most of our lives are centered around food. In the US, if you want to meet someone who doesn't belong to your close friends' circle, then it usually ends up over food. You can't just drop by to anyone's place without scheduling it.

"Hi, I was wondering if we could just drop by this evening.."
"Oh, then why not make it dinner?"
"Err..no.."
"Come on. We haven't seen you in a while. Let's do dinner."

Okay. So the next time you want to meet them, you'd have to ask them over for lunch/dinner/breakfast or whatever. This being golu season, your golu invite is usually clubbed with dinner/lunch. There's no just dropping by someone acquaintance's place in the evening around 6-ish, having sundal, chit-chatting and just leaving. I guess people are just trying to be hospitable and take care of the guests. But is there such a thing as over-hospitality?

This time in India, I was plied sumptuously with coffee/snacks each time I visited someone's house no matter what the time of day! Morning, evening or night, you're supposed to have something.

"Have some coffee.."
"No..I just had some at Kripa Aunty's house. We stopped there before coming here.."
"Oh, you should taste the wonderful new coffee powder we got at Andal Cafe! Just a little bit.."
"No, please. I'll have some water.."
"Then have some juice. Mango ok?"

Usually, by the time I got home I'd feel like an over-stuffed party bag with all sorts of food items sloshing around in my tummy.

Besides, I think Indians have this special niche for coming up with creative dishes. For almost any festival/function in the house, we have sumptuous meals served on banana leafs. I like eating on banana leafs but then, you lose track of your portion size on them..:) So the cook plies you with liberal servings of sojji appams, 2-3 kosmalli varieties, vazhapoo vadais, sambar, morkuzhambu, rasam, 3-4 poriyals and koottus, payasam and you're left panting just looking at your banana leaf! People don't take "No. Enough" for an answer when they serve. They think it means we're being shy to ask. So they ply you with even more food.

"Tsk..these days kids have shrunk their stomachs in the US. See, she's struggling to finish her lunch and I've just finished two servings of each dish! Tell your daughter to eat well!"

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?Huh?

Besides all this, there are those working lunches, working dinners etc..If you want to meet a colleague outside of work, you do it over dinner. If you want to talk to your realtor about something, you go to the nearest Starbucks or Krispy Kreme and down 2 donuts before you leave. Why can't we just meet anyone somewhere in the park or the library or the nearest museum? Why is food the central point of all congregations?

I have nothing against all those people who feed me good food..:) But personally, If I want to meet a friend to just talk, then I'd like to be able to do that without scheduling a mealtime for it! Besides, hasn't mommy said that talking while eating is bad for your health? :)

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Marriage Chronicles

Warning: A very Tamil oriented post. Cannot for the life of me translate some of the words to English..:) They're true, authentic Tamizh!

Anyone who's gotten married in true Tamil Brahmin tradition or attended a close relative's wedding will know that marriage is all about "banthathis". For the uninitiated, "Bandhadhi" is a style of doing things associated with a place. Eg. Tanjavur bandhadhi, Palakkad bandhadhi, blah, blah, blah. Most of these bandhadhis enunciate very, very,very essential,important things to a marriage:

1. The size and ingredient(cashew, kadalai paruppu or thengai) of the 3rd paruppu thengai in the nth seer varisai being presented to the groom's side.

This assumes paramount importance because some old maami from the groom's side who's married off 5 daughters will be watching it. She will also promptly come and tell your mom:

"Yendi, ennadhu idhu unga aathula mundhiri paruppu paruppu thengai vekkaradhu dhaan pazhakkama? Enga bandhadhi-la idhellam kidaiyaadhuppa. Hmmm.."

2. The shape of the vessel that maamis use to carry the vilakku during the oonjal. For the ignorant: Mamis circumambulate the bride & the groom on the oonjal with a vilakku in a vessel.

Mami1: "Enga bandhadhi la ellam bosi dhaan.."
Mami2: "Ille ille, enga bandhadhi la adukku dhaan..enna pesarel!"

3. The exact sequence of relative maamis when doing the paruppu pudi ritual during oonjal.

I cannot stress the importance of this. Not only does each bandhadhi have its special way of suthifying paruppu pudi, the hierarchy of the maamis is also very important. If you ask a younger person to do it before an older maami (who incidentally would've disappeared somewhere at that exact time and cannot be found), you have a crisis on your hands.

4. The exact count & identity of persons who should be present in the room when the bride has to tie her nine yards saree.

The first rule is that none should care about the sentiments of the bride. If tradition dictates that your maami paatti's daughter-in-law's nathanaar has to be present, then it HAS to be that way. Doesn't matter if the concerned person knows to tie the nine-yards saree.

5. The menu of the wedding.

If you don't get the menu right for your banthathi, you will be ostracized and castigated by your banthathi clan.

6. The shape and variety of betel leaves that is given as tamboolam.

"Enga Tanjavur-la ellam kumbakonam vethalai dhaan kudupaa! Idhai paaru, edho vathalagundu vethalaiya kondu vandhu vechirukaa! Hmm..ivaloda pazhakkame veraya irukku!"


Knowing your "banthathi" will also make you Supreme Counselor of Unwritten Marriage (SCUM for short) rules for ALL weddings that you attend in your lifetime! Seeing how important all these above listed things are very important to our marital bliss and peacefulness, S and I have decided to initiate our own, special banthathi: the Lexington Banthathi. This will ensure that we will be lifetime presidents of this new banthathi clan and none will have the courage to overrule us. Maamis, watch out! Here we come!

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Secrets...

I used to love being privy to "secrets". I'd feel all tingly when a friend or a relative drew me close and whispered conspiratorially in my ear, "Don't mention it to any other living soul! You're the only one in the know." To me, it was a sign of trust; a seal of approval on the sanctity of the relationship; And in some ways, a bonding ritual. After all, what's a relationship without sharing those little things that none else knew? I fought with one of my best friends in college because he refused to tell me the name of his crush. We didn't talk for 2 months and we fought many times over it. I considered it an insult to the friendship that he didn't share it with me (Me of all people! Didn't he consider me trustworthy? Wasn't I his best friend? How dare he!).

I don't know when gyaan descended on me (You must agree that it is a sure sign of enlightenment that I can't pinpoint the moment the lightbulb went off in my head! :)) but things are not so black-and-white to me these days. Recently, I found that a relative hadn't shared some important family events, albeit sorrowful, with us. It was a shock to the entire family to find out about it. Some were angry, some outraged, some unconcerned. I just felt sympathy. There's so much involved in sharing personal things -- a bit of ego, fear of judgement, fear of disapproval, fear of being seen as a loser, fear of consequences and fear of the pity that'd be brought on by sharing. And sometimes, its just the plain burden of having to pick up the phone and talk to people than face-to-face interaction. The list could go on!

I've stopped basing relationships on what other people share with me. Sure, I feel good if they trust me enough to tell me something. If not, well, I'll be a bit hurt but they'll still be good friends! :) Besides, some secrets are best left in the dark.

The friend I fought with during college is still one of my good friends. He came to India from the US for my wedding and though I didn't get to talk to him much, I was happy to just have him around. I've realized that I can't let go of some relationships no matter what -- secrets or not!

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Three exciting days condensed to a few snaps...

The entire wedding seems like a happy and exciting blur -- shopping, relatives, excitement, rituals, mantras, temple trips, good food & good times! I confess I was too wound up (about just getting the 9-yards saree tied in proper fashion before people started banging on the Bride's door -- "Neramaachu..Ponnai vara sollungoo!" ) to have the "Omigosh-I-am-getting-married-eeeeks" feeling..:) Everything went in fast-forward mode in India and now I am savouring each moment through photos/videos. Long live technology! :)

It only happens in India...

Location: Waiting lounge, Chennai International Airport

The 20-20 match between India & Australia was being displayed on the new LCD screens at the airport. Around 300-400 people in the lounge were all glued to the TV screens. A collective groan rose as Dhoni misfielded and let the ball through for a run. And then, a wicket -- Gilchrist gone! And the entire lounge erupted in claps and cheers. Even the security folks stopped their screening for a minute and applauded.

The height of all this drama was the following incident. IA was boarding their flight to Singapore. They were issuing the final boarding call for all passengers while there were still 20 balls left in the match. And a whole set of people on that flight were glued to the TV screens and didn't budge!

IA Official: Final boarding call for Singapore flight. Sir, Singapore poravanga ellam flight-la erunga sir!

Passenger: Sir, oru two minutes..

IA Official: Everyone on IA flight to Singapore, please kindly board...[pleading]

No response

IA Official: Sir, dhayavu senju erunga..flight edukkanum...[literally begging]

Still none budged. Everyone watched India's victory and then boarded the IA flight with a satisfied smile on their faces. :) It can only happen in India!

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Shriman & Shrimathi

S and I got married on 13.09.07 and are now, officially Mrs & Mr! :) That's the reason for my recent disappearance from the blogosphere. I'll continue regular programming soon...

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iCon

Recently, I've been working with a lot of Mac lovers at my workplace. They're passionately loyal to Apple products. It tickles me to find anyone so passionate about certain things. In this world of a million options and cheaper alternatives, I believe it takes something special to inspire brand loyalty. And looking at an iMac, I can easily see how it captures the imagination!

I like to look behind a success story and figure out how/why it happened. This is true of both people and products. Lots of times, people only see the finished end product and go, "Oh, they had it easy" or "Oh, that's intuitive enough. Nothing new". I think the real interesting success story lies in the making of a product/person. And if you look closely enough, you'll find a piece of the person in the products that they create.
I was curious about Steve Jobs. So I picked up "iCon: The Second Greatest Act in The History of Business", a biography of Steve Jobs and started reading it.

First off, this was a good read unlike some other biographies. It doesn't bore you with unrelated stories and vague statements. It is simple, straightforward and dishes out criticism as well as credit. It amazed me that for someone who talks a lot about karma & philosophy, Jobs sometimes can be ridiculously silly! :) Goes to show that genius in one field doesn't mean any kind of maturity in general. Sure enough, when you read through Jobs' life story, you see some elements of his character in Apple products -- for instance, the austere simplicity of Apple applications or the easy aesthetics of the UI.

Whether you love Apple or not, it is definitely an inspiring read about a man who changed three industries -- computers, music and movies. In the book, Jobs makes it clear that his final ambition would be to overtake and defeat his main competitor -- Bill Gates. Almost all his moves in the computer market have been toward making Apple a viable alternative to Windows boxes. And I have to say that he's getting closer.

I am a hardcore Windows user and I don't have many complaints against it. But I was simply blown away by the Mac recently. I got a HD camcorder recently. It came with Sony's crappy bundled software, Picture Motion Browser. Windows MP doesn't support the AVCHD format for HD movies and I had to use PMB. And by golly, was it crappy! Frames were dropped, the picture was grainy and Windows kept crashing with some strange error. On the other hand, I plugged in the Camcorder on a Mac and the experience was a lot different. Mac automatically opened up iMovie, imported the movies and played it back impeccably! The quality and user experience were simply too smooth. I loved it and am seriously considering buying a Mac for various other reasons.

Anyways, I just had to rant about this on a Friday..:) And this is my response to RS' book tag a while back. Go read iCon.

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The Curious Incidents of the Rude Callers

There's something wrong with me and phone calls. People seem to love hanging up on me cutting me off mid-sentence! I am not really in the habit of yakking away incessantly to strangers. But can I not be allowed to finish my sentences?!

I never go to beauty parlors. I think the people who run most beauty institutions are really snooty. At long last, last month I mustered up the courage to call a parlor for an appointment.

"Hi, this is blah."
"Hello"
"I was looking for an appointment --"
"Ok."
"Would next week --"

"Listen. I gotta go now. ok? If you can, call back."

And then she cut me off mid-sentence and hung up! What in the world? No courteous "Excuse me" or "call back please". Anyways, she lost my business.

Next comes my Apartment office dunderheads. I never had any respect for their intelligence at any time. But today took the cake! This annoying, idiot lady called me at work. I am already overaging 100 minutes on my phone plan.

"Hi..can I speak to Sabshuni Sppriineewasan." (For the love of God!)

"This is she."

"Ok. You've got a late fee on your rent."

"Err..ok. I was only a day late. Could you please consider waiving it?"

"No."

"This is just the first time, right?"

"Yes"

"How much is ---?"

Click. She'd hung up. What in the blue blistering barnacles? If I don't know how much the late fee is, how can I pay it?

And then it was this Aunty who called me out of the blue about something she wanted out of me. I was midway explaining about it. And then she decided she'd had enough of me and said,

"I'll talk later."

Click. No waiting for response. Nothing. Why call me if you don't have the time to talk?

Hmph.

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To be a woman..

This news shocked me. Whatever my personal sensibilities might be, I am pro-choice. I believe women are the best judges of whether they can bring another life into the world and sustain it. I would be offended if I had to explain my choices to an impersonal, strange official from the government!

That said, I don't think this measure would solve the issue of female foeticide. Why do people in the village of Usilampatti kill female infants? Because --

-- Dowry. It costs lots of money to get a girl married off.
-- A woman is technically lost to the house she was born in after marriage. She is "owned" by her husband's family. Therefore, there's no point in educating her or depending on her earnings.
-- Shame that follows when a woman is unmarried after a certain age.
-- Vulnerability a woman faces when she's unmarried -- roving eyes, an unhelpful police system that sometimes aids in rapes/murder and of course, the burden of carrying the "family honor"!

We place a great deal of worth on a woman's "honour" or chastity. I've sometimes felt that it is exaggerated to a ridiculous extent, partly by our maudlin movies and bloated emotional sensibilities. In fact, it is so ridiclously blown-up that a rape-victim is forced to die rather than face societal castigation, shame and cruelty. First, defiled for no fault of her own and then humiliated for that! And men abuse it even more because they know that this is the ultimate bargaining weapon. There's no second chance for women.

Female foeticide will vanish when the men of India learn to respect women and their choices. This proposed measure will do nothing to help any of the problems above.

And if you ask me, it serves everyone right that the female:male ratio is dwindling. Maybe, that'll teach people a little more respect.

Three Years And Still 'Doodling'.....

Early mornings and hot coffee are a ritual with me. They go together hand-in-hand. And as I so often keep telling S, who gulps his coffee down and rushes out the house, coffee is meant to be savoured. One sip at a time. Slowly.

Early mornings are my quiet time. They're my time to meditate, reflect, read and take life easy. I take my coffee to the patio and watch the world wake up. After sleeping in artificial air-conditioning over the night, the cool, crisp air of the morning is a welcome relief! The grass, awash with dew, seems fresher and greener. And I love the feeling of the sun's first, golden rays falling on my face as I sip coffee! I am at peace with myself and the world. Ahh, bliss!

The little birds are a lesson in energy -- hopping, skipping, flying and waking up to another day. I've become friends with one little fella, especially. I have a coir, window box with marigold plants in the patio. And this little bird has steadfastly torn out most of the coir from the box to build his little nest. At first, I was indignant and annoyed that my little window box was ruined. I was cursing myself for opting coir over plastic. I changed my mind when I saw his little nest in the tree outside my apartment..:) Somehow, I've never been able to capture the same peaceful, quiet feeling later in the day. I guess this is why I am partial to waking up early.

Anyways, I started writing this blog three years back on exactly the same note. I am not going to give you the usual of how I started blogging, how it has changed my life, the wonderful journey that it has been and how many friends I've made online etc...After reading so many well-written such pieces of blog birthdays, I feel at a loss to say anything new!

I've lasted three years. Pat on my back and thanks to loyal readers. And to you, "Doodles", I say:

"Happy Birthday"!