Switching numbers

My mobile connection was part of the company CUG network, so when I changed jobs, to avoid the hassle of changing my mobile number, I tried to retain the number by requesting the company to transfer the connection to my personal account. Three years hence, nothing happened. It was neither "yes", nor "no", so I just continued using the same no.

The reason I hesitated / waited patiently for so long, was the frightening thought of going through the trouble of informing friends, colleagues, acquaintances, banks, credit card services, and other online & offline service providers about the number change. I had got my cards printed as well, and I didn't want to let the pretty cards go wasted. But frequent disruptions in services, at the most crucial times, owing to non-payment of charges by the company, finally got me running helter skelter for a new connection!

I wanted an easy to remember number. And that simple wish I was told could cost me dear. Just like they auction fancy numbers for car registration plates, mobile numbers too I discovered were on sale - the fancier the number, the higher the price tag. The sweet talker that my husband is, he managed to coax one of the service providers to provide some fancy number options where they could waive off the premium...and finally, my "fancy" wish was fulfilled, without burning a hole in my pocket.

Then came the task of informing the key people on my contact list + all sorts of service providers about the change in my no., and then manually confirming with the curious lot that they could delete/replace the old number with the new number...phew!

The number update with my credit card service provider has been a bit complicated. Since transactions involve the OTP which is sent to the registered mobile no., to change to a new no. involves sending request letter, KYC details with ID/Address proof to their head office. Not sure when my new no. will be updated in their database!

All said and done, it's been an unpleasant & time consuming experience for me thus far, and I just hope I won't have to go through this again, anytime soon!

Cut off!

Not like Surpanakha, Ravana’s sister, who had her nose cut off, but “literally” cut off / isolated from the rest of the world with no mobile, telephone or Internet! What was quite the way of life back in my childhood days (can’t imagine how we could have lived without these technology gadgets and gizmos, and that too happily!), now my whole life seems to depend on it. Cable’s been cut and will take a while to fix, I’m told. And my future already starts to look bleak!

I hit the panic mode ever since I lost connection, and I’ve been blabbering my head off trying to find some solace in the chaos and keep my sanity. I can’t reach office to tell them I’m cut off – no mail, sms, whatsapp, fb, twitter, skype, call...(not even blog!); virtually nothing to connect me, and the world already seems to have tripled in size looking just as alien to me!

My office, based in another city up north, won’t be able to reach me for those “urgent, want it yesterday jobs”, and I won’t be able to tell them “rukavat ke liye kaid hai” like those Doordarshan days. For the jobs I have in hand, I won’t be able to search online whether for information, facts or figures, nor will I be able to refer to images to visualise / give shape to the “big” idea.

And suddenly, I remembered those days when mobile phones were rare – when incoming calls were charged @ Rs.8/- per minute; double for outgoing. When we didn’t have the luxury of “Googling” for information, and when we did, it was at snail’s pace over a dial-up connection, and with hardly anything that was worth our while. But I used to work back then too. In fact, work much better. Where ideas were not limited to the images that were available on stock photo sites! Then why do I now have this desperate feeling like the world is coming to an end. Life must go on, even without mobile or internet, doesn’t it?!

Imagine if technology and all its conveniences were to crumble and crash like this one fine day, it sounds now to me more dreadful than being shipwrecked and marooned on a cavernous island, all alone without food and water! 

And while I dreadfully tread upon that thought, I leave you guys to imagine and share what you think of a day cut off from the rest of the world, when the rest of the world continues to stay connected...

Fairy tale like yesteryears...

Long long ago, what may  now sound almost like a Fairy tale, was a time when ignorance was bliss. When we were blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked outside the safe environs of our homes. And it cost us nothing. A precious childhood safeguarded not only by our family, but also by our genuinely friendly and well-wishing neighbours and community at large.

I remember vividly those days, when my sis and I, just in Class III and II respectively, could walk up to School about a kilometer away, without having to worry about rash drivers mowing down pedestrians, or eve teasers, or kidnappers or perverts. Not that there weren't any back then, but at least they were not there in the back of our minds, for us to look over our shoulders after every few steps, and our parents to unduly worry about us.

Back then, our parents were next only to God, whom we revered, respected and loved unconditionally. We didn't dare to raise our voice in their presence, and their wish was our command. The unwritten rules, we followed in letter and spirit. The values were deeply ingrained in us, without them having to reiterate it to us. There were no lavish gifts or pocket monies, not even a birthday present or dress some times. But still, we were very happy. The littlest of things and gestures brought us great cheer.

And school, it was like our second home. Where teachers not just taught the world, but meant the world to us. They groomed and moulded us, chided yet guided us. And friends, well they were just as naive and innocent as we were. No expectations, no comparisons, no unhealthy competitions, no bragging, no strutting...but they were always there, cheering and encouraging us no matter what. The group-study sessions, the pajama party stay-overs, the endless board games (snakes & ladder, scrabble, ludo, Chinese checkers, chess, cards, caroms, monopoly...), with plenty of time for outdoor play as well (gilli-danda, marbles, skipping rope, hide & seek, dog & the bone, knock knock who's there...to the more serious shuttle badminton & basketball), the climbing up of trees & walls (boy or girl didn't matter)...the times without computers, internet, google, mobile phones, ipads and all those gadgets & apps that at times seem like a boon, almost indispensable, but thinking of the better times without it, makes me wonder, if boon or bane!

Neighbours were just like extended family, very much part of our lives, our milestones, our special occasions and festivals. Christian, Hindu, Muslim....didn't matter. While we shared cakes, wine and cookies for Christmas, we got laddus, jalebis, murukku...for Diwali, and sweet (&) meat snacks for Eid. They watched out for us, and played an important role in our upbringing. There was always that element of love, trust and care, we could blindly trust.

Oh, and how can I forget those push carts with bells ringing "ice cream, kulfi", "cotton candy", "soan papdi", "burfi"...We could lick it up to the end, without fear of germs or falling prey to dysentery. And when "summer vacations" didn't really mean a trip to the US, Europe, Singapore-Malaysia or even Thailand. They were a time to visit our hometown (in Kerala) - a grand get-together of grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and all relatives (known & unknown) from different parts of the world / country. When our uncles would cut out cricket bats from coconut palm and make handmade rubber balls. and the match would begin sometime in the evening until sundown. We would pick cocoa, cashew and coffee seeds from the plantations and watch our grandmom sort the fruit from the seeds, roast the nuts, even as we steal our share. And it would seem like we were born to eat. After morning tea, came breakfast, then a 11 o'clock snack, then lunch, then evening tea & snacks, then dinner....burp! And all homemade stuff, mind you!! Our grandfather was a real sport, he would go about organising games - from caroms, to chess, to cards and what not!

I could go on and on, of that 'golden era' where joy was not measured in the size of house or brand of car you owned, neither did Guccis or Armanis matter, nor the foreign vacations or school fees you could afford (yeah, now that's also a point of comparison - the higher the fees, the better they think their status). It was your family, the get-togethers, connecting with people face to face (and not just on facebook) and little things like your mom baking a special cake for your birthday and singing the birthday song for you as soon as you woke up, your sister sharing an extra piece of chocolate with you, your dad taking you on a scooter ride...and such else that  mattered.

As I write this, it gives me great pleasure to revisit those times made of golden memories that money can't buy. At the same time, feel sorry for my children and to the generations following for being stripped off the innocent pleasures of childhood! God save the world...

Random mood, random verse

I walked by the stream
With whispering winds blowing through my hair;
I gazed and gazed, at mountains afar
Till the evening mist descended, then clouded the clouds.

I talked to the trees
In a language of silence, touching the heart yet taking firm root;
I waded knee deep
Till the worries floated away, bringing back nothing but mirth.

I laughed like a child
When a burst of unruly rays pierced through the dark shroud;
And where it touched, shimmering like gold
Spreading light, and with it this verse of hope.

Wise or otherwise?

Her mouth wide open. Should she part with it? "It is mine", he said. She decided to let go...It had been gnawing at her every once a while, for dog years now. So well, she thought, might as well.

It was late one evening, a fine weekend at that, when she could have been relaxing at home, with her feet up some wine and some munchies, watching some random movie on TV. But it was an appointment she had to keep. She braced herself for the worst, and walked up to the man who would soon be done with it, showing no mercy or remorse whatsoever.

He was rather nice. Kept them in good humour. Them? Of course, her hubby accompanied her. It was when his wife would lose half her wisdom! The doc gave her a choice between left & right. Oh, both sides have to go eventually, but a few weeks apart, and she could choose which pair first. She chose the left,  bcoz the pain was more severe there.

The doc explained the procedure, displayed his tools (yeah, the hammer, pliers and the works :D), and went on to give her the anaesthesia so she won't feel a thing. And then it started getting heavy, her gums, her lips...slowly working its way to numbness. The AC was chilling her spine by then and she was shuddering quite visibly, almost going stiff when her hubby switched the AC off.

The doc began extracting, starting with the lower one. He pulled and tugged, and crack..."did the tooth break?" she worried. But the jubilant smile on the doc's face said otherwise. It was like a treasure he had dug. He then went on with getting the top one out. Pull, pull, tug, tug...and it was out as well. Another treasure!

She had mixed feelings. Should she have bid a final tearful adieu? Or should she have simply rejoiced, that half her tooth problems were now gone? Or should she have celebrated her "wise" or "otherwise" decision of doing away with half her wisdom, err...you know what?! She simply grinned, feeling the vacuum where once lay a pair of wisdom teeth, that just wouldn't fit in!

A Confession!

It was an arranged marriage. An ad in the Classifieds column, and 187 kms away someone caught the 182 cms bug, came with family to "see the girl" and the girl's father would later joke that the "boy" was perhaps blind to say "yes". Boy (192 cms) was Roman Catholic; Girl on the other hand was a Marthomite. It's not very common for Catholics marrying Marthomites, you need to get converted and stuff (I know, it's complicated...and you thought Christianity was 'one' world-over!). But considering the girl was ta....ll, her folks were happy just to find a boy taller and nodded away happily. The "girl" was struck off the records as Marthomite and baptized as a Catholic (RCSC) after one month's classes at a Convent near home. She didn't really care whether she was Marthomite or Catholic, she had faith in God Almighty, and that's what mattered. Religious affiliations, diocese, congregations etc were just for convenience, she believed.

Marriage and two kids later, the "girl" and "boy" were quite happy with their lives, together. They were like two sides of a coin, poles apart, but the common space they shared was filled with love, respect and understanding. The "boy" went to a Catholic Church at walking distance from their apartment, the kids went to Mar Thoma Church with their maternal grandparents, and the "girl" was left in no man's land, feeling "out-of-place" in both Churches. Unfamiliar service in Catholic Church and Lo.....ng Service in Marthoma Church, she would say (lame excuses I'm sure). The boy and girl used to frequent an Anglo Church earlier (a service they both enjoyed), but after change of residence, "boy" grew comfortable with nearby Church, and "girl" didn't find place!

The elder kid was getting ready to receive the first Holy Communion, before which, there is a "Confession" mandatory for the kid and her parents. The "girl" or should I say ""mother", didn't have a clue what was coming her way. But she had to "confess", especially since the "boy" i.e., the "father" had a valid excuse - to get his mom discharged from hospital and bring her home. So she picked the older of the priests. Waited in line, patiently for her turn. Then "confessed", or mumbled rather (with her face turning pink with embarrassment). The priest must have been amused. The "girl" sure was, because she was not used to such rambling (confessing, if you please). The priest gave her a solution and a piece of advice too - to come for regular confessions!

The "girl" was akin to the kids, who were making their confessions for the first time. The other "mothers" and "fathers" had lengthy confessions to make, some sobbing inconsolably, some sniffing, some almost whispering and just one or two rambling like the "girl"! It was over, finally. And there was a big sigh of relief. She had "confessed", and it didn't feel as bad, she thought! Will she dare make another "confession"? Only time will tell.

The 2nd child syndrome

Being the 2nd child is always a plus. The 1st child has to invariably take the brunt of all fist fights, punches, pinches, verbal yelling or meaningless arguments. I was the 2nd of 2 girls, so I know what it means or feels like. And I can see the same sort of events replaying before my eyes with my 2 daughters.

My sister and I were just a year apart, and our growing up years had all the sibling rivalry common among siblings (esp. sisters). We were the best of friends obviously, but when it came to fighting with each other, we left no skin un-pinched (I pinched) or un-punched (my sis punched). The scars that remained fetched us our rewards (the goods from our parents, what else!), but I always managed to escape putting on the "sorry" face and the sheepish grin :) My sis on the other hand would not budge and would also put on a challenge, showing no remorse whatsoever, rather expressionless.

Ditto, with my daughters.

My elder daughter is all of 10, but I'm amazed at how she can get angry, stubborn, lazy, disobedient and rebellious. She's more innocent than my li'l one, but her temperamental nature and mood swings (especially when I ask her to keep her room tidy, study, practise keyboard, take responsibility...) get to me. With horns on my head, steam from my ears, and fire coming out my mouth, I go on my lecture-giving spree, which must most probably be going right through her ears, because after that momentary guilt, she's back to being herself!

My younger daughter, just 4 years, but behaves like the elder sis, bossing around and getting her way around home. She's the little baby at home, wanting all the attention and making sure she gets it. She's the typical "naatak company" / "drama queen" or what have you. But totally adorable. She accepts her mistakes, feels guilty and is quick to say "sorry, I won't repeat it again" with that "sorry" face I'm master of. How can you not forgive her! And she's still little, you think.

So there...1st daughter, like it or not, looks like you're the one destined to be at the receiving end, just like my sis was, back then! Don't you worry...this phase too will pass. And then you two will be the best of friends :) And you will grow up to be one responsible sister, no doubt!

Sick of Fever!

The two months of kids' summer vacation flew by, with hectic work schedules amidst managing 2 riotous kids at home, MIL's accident (where she lost her right thumb toe), hospital duties, Sister and BIL's brief one-week holiday with us,  parents-in-law at home, extra duties, first daughter's first holy communion, hospital visits for MIL's dressing, @ Mumbai for a week for presentation and client meetings, back home and last minute rush to buy stuff for kids' school, FIL down with viral fever, nursing duties, school orientation program at little one's school, kids development workshop and get-together at apartment, MIL down with viral fever, nursing duties, school reopening, first daughter comes back home with fever, next day hubby comes back home with fever, maid also complains of fever, cough, backache but manages to do the essential cleaning up and cooking...

FIL is better now but bound to the bedroom, MIL is not very mobile yet having lost one of her toes and the fever has kept her tied to the bedroom as well, 1st daughter's fever is around 99-100 degrees, hubby's fever is hovering around 102-103 deg. I'm just praying that my li'l one doesn't catch the fever and that I have the strength and patience left to manage a home full of patients! I'm quite sick of the 'fever' fever, already :(


Praying for their speedy recovery...

Note: Lost & Found

The alarm rings at 4 am. She jumps off the bed, brushes her teeth, then downloads the remnants of sizzlers had the previous night at Red Box at the bog, has a quick shower, slips into a comfortable pair of jeans & top and is ready with bag, baggage and all. Reaches the airport 5 minutes to 5 am, well in time. After check-in, proceeds to Security Check. Empties laptop, phone & handbag on the tray for the screening, and after security check picks up laptop & handbag from tray, and rolls the suitcase to the lounge.

After a sip of piping hot Latte, turns around to find that passengers headed to COK are already in line to board the bus to the flight parked at the International bay. Gulps down the coffee and scoots to join. After a long & boring bus ride, she boards the plane, exchanging friendly smiles with the crew, and finding her seat - the middle seat! It's just 5.40 am. Flight takes off only at 6.25 am. Plenty of time to kill, she thinks.

She puts her hand in the handbag looking for her phone to send an SMS to her hubby. And ....no phone! She desperately looks for it again, in her handbag, in her suitcase, around her...but no, no phone! It must be at the Security Check counter!! Panic sets in...she thinks of all the valuable info stored in her phone...hoping fervently it hasn't got in the hands of the wrong people. She tells the cabin crew that she's left her phone behind, gives all the details of the model - Samsung Note, white colour, the colour of the case, and writes down her mobile no. on the boarding pass in a shaky hand. The guy agrees to help, comes back in a couple of minutes (what seemed like eternity) to say they've informed the security and also tried to call my number but no answer.

Her co-passenger comes in to occupy his seat. She hurriedly explains the situation and borrows the phone to make a call to her phone. It rings and rings...and finally someone answers.
He: Hello
She: Hello, this is my phone...who is this?
He: This is BOM Airport Security
She: Can you have my phone delivered to me. I'm on "this flight" which is scheduled to take-off in about 15 minutes
He: Please handover phone to cabin crew
Cabin crew & Security guy have a conversation
Cabin crew: We'll try to get your phone for you ma'am
She: (Heart jumping with joy) That will be great!
Cabin crew returns in a short while. Sorry ma'am, looks like it will take some time and since all passengers have boarded the flight, we will have to take-off
She: (Heart sinking) But...but my phone...
Cabin crew: What you can do is, report it at COK airport at the Lost & Found desk
She: (Ready to sob) Can someone pick it up from BOM airport for me
Cabin crew: (clueless) You may report at COK airport and they'll guide you ma'am
She: (Wants to swear, but the feeling of loss was way to overpowering) OK, whatever!


Co-passengers try to console her that she'll get her phone back soon enough. One thing she's relieved about is her phone is "found" and not in the wrong hands as feared. But the hassle of getting it back, still worries her. She tries to pick-up normal conversation with an Aunty-ji sitting on her right (which she normally would never do, if not for the phone incident) just to keep her mind off replaying the security check scene over and over again in her mind.  What perplexes her is how the phone was not on the tray where she had left it, right above the laptop. Was it a deliberate move, by someone? She would never know, but she is almost relieved of her worst fears.

She munches on the awful South Indian breakfast served on the flight, disinterestedly, has some black tea, and tries to take a nap, but the scene keeps replaying itself, she stays awake and waits for touchdown. The flight of stairs and short bus ride after, she gets to the airport, files a complaint with the Flight staff, sees her husband waiting and rambles her sad story. She speaks to the BOM airport terminal manager, and he assures her that the phone is with him and she could send anyone to pick it up, with her authorization letter quoting the Lost and Found number and id proof.

Her boss picks it up from the airport and after tamper-proof packing sends it across by air cargo. It arrives in one shape. Hallelujah! That's when she realizes how inextricably her life is linked with her phone. And to think of it gone, was like losing a lifeline!

Anyway, all is well that ends well. The Note is back in her hands and she's back in business :)

The calm before the storm?

After many many days, I'm finding some time to breathe...that is now. A small respite from work, work and all work, that has made me a tad bit dull! I sure have my queue of jobs, but all awaiting "the brief", so I decided to call it a break. The calm before the storm, no doubt. But might as well enjoy the calm while it lasts, rather than cry about the impending storm! PHEW!!!

Well, April-May is perhaps the toughest time for working mothers in India. What with kids at home, doing nothing worthwhile, simply lazying about, watching TV, fighting with each other, messing up the place....and everything to drive you nuts! All attempts to get my elder daughter to focus on something more constructive has failed thus far! Albeit, half a day till tomorrow, she's occupied by a small camp for kids at Church. After that, only God knows how I'll keep my sanity, through the day.

Sadly, my little one all of 4, is down with a strange viral fever with little bumpy rashes on her arms and legs, since the last couple of days, and to make matters worse, she's got 2 blisters in her mouth. Not chicken pox, the doc said...just a viral bout - mild fever with the above symptoms. Must be the heat. The fever's gone (in 2 days), but she's not eating anything because of those blisters. More or less on a liquid diet of juices, milk & soup. Sometimes, she gets so cranky and throws up a tantrum from the time she gets up, that I feel helpless, and soon that helplessness turns to impatience. I hope she gets well soon.

One thing that is keeping my spirits up is, my sister is landing on the 24th...reason enough to celebrate, bcoz that's when we indulge in a vacation to nearby places. And to top it, it's my mom's birthday on the 24th. Last year too, my sis was here around that time, and the dinner celebrations were rollicking fun with the family. We're looking forward to more fun this time :)

Well, as I was writing this, I had to take a couple of breaks. To attend to work, what else! So much for "breathing" time!!! And yes, work beckons...so ciao and don't forget to share your holiday experience ( kids' holiday experience if you are a parent or your own)....

And pray, I don't get caught up in the storm!

Home-work

Almost 2 years now, working from home. And for all those who went "wow, you are so lucky!", I have something to confess. It has not been easy. Especially for someone who for over 13 years, had been working 10-12 hours at most times, 6 days a week, sometimes on Sundays too, without missing a day at work unless something really important or serious came in the way, it was hard to imagine that I'd opt for 'work from home'. My sis asked me if I was sure I wanted to do that. At that point of time, I saw better work (as it was more to do with my line of work), better opportunity (considering it was from 'Mumbai' the most happening city for 'advertising'), and above all, the idea of being home when my kids got back from school....Lo and behold, I grabbed the opportunity that came knocking at my door, at a time when I really needed it!

The first day was dreadful, the first week was worse, the first month was maddening.  I had a full time maid then, to take care of the household chores, cooking and taking care of the kids. My little one was in playschool and she would get back home by 12.30 pm. And look who she found at home, her mom who was fiddling away at the computer! She would come straight to my room, jump onto my lap, and tap away on the keyboard, and when I would try desperately to get her off, she would smile, cry, bawl (in that order) but refuse to get off. She wouldn't go to the maid (why would she, when her mom was at home). My maid was having a good time with plenty of time to kill, gossiping with the neighbours and all. Not that I envied her (not the gossiping kind, not me!), but she wasn't making it easy for me. I was stuck with looking after the little one, giving her food to eat, making sure she was engaged, coaxing her for an afternoon nap.......all in the middle of having to finish off jobs within the deadline, which was almost always "yesterday". I had more work coming in with every passing day, and more home duties piling on top of my head. And it only seemed to get worse.

And with the elder one landing home by around 3.30 pm, it was madness at its heights. The kids would be at each others throats, screaming, running and what have you. And then the hubby calling to say "that" person would come to fix "this", keep "this" or "that" ready and what not. Then there would be doorbells to answer...phew! What's worse, just when I would be ready to call it a day, there would be a rush of jobs, with the dreadful fine print  "take your time, send it first thing tomorrow morning". There went my night and my sweet dreams!

While I was used to the late nights and weekend work, I wasn't really ready for managing the home-bit as well. My kids couldn't see I was "working from home", they wanted me to devote my time to them when they were back. I wasn't able to make quality time for them, for I was sitting glued to my desk from dawn to dusk, namesake "at home" mom, who was almost always "at work". It was getting tough for me, and perhaps tougher for the family. What's worse, I had this pent up anger (or frustration) and no vent to let it out. And I could feel my head bloating up into a balloon ready to burst at the slightest prick.

When we moved into our new apartment, I made sure I had "office" space marked out. I got rid of the full time maid who turned into full time "jobless" because of me working from home, and instead hired a part-time maid to cook food and cleanup. I dressed up for work and tried to maintain a time schedule.The kids now understand "mama's home office" a no-hang-around zone, so no entering or fiddling with things during "office hours". Though occasionally (read "everyday"), they do kick up a racket, more so when I'm on an important call with a client or at a briefing session that can so tick me off, they're better behaved now (at least better than when I started out!), letting me finish my work. Just that the 9-5 work is not possible in my kind of work.

Sometimes, work even creeps into the weekends and during vacations, when it gets really annoying, but I oblige because there isn't an option, is there?! The duties are definitely more than the work at office arrangement, where you just had to take care of office work. Now work, home, family, maid, guests.....are all part of my work-at-home arrangement. And at the end of the day, what really gets to me is when the "friendly" neighbours comment "oh, you're so lucky you can work from home, and be there for the kids" or "we thought you're the only one free around here" or "you sit at home all day and you don't even have to cook!", so on and so forth.

Lucky like hell. I would have been better off going to office every day (I know the difference, because I've been there, done that!). At least when I got back home I had some peace and some quality time with family. Now the line between work and home has become so thin that I'm beginning to feel like some super-mom juggling between both roles! Oh no, it's not easy. Especially when you have no one to brainstorm with, talk to or go out with, slogging my buts-off  morning-noon-night with the whatsit glued to the chair, cut off from the rest of the world, and everybody else taking me for granted!

Now, my world has indeed become smaller, I'm afraid if my thinking would become narrower too! I'm thinking of getting a board fixed to the door: BEWARE OF LIVE BOMB...READY TO TICK-OFF ANY MOMENT! (DON'T ANGRY ME!!). The 'once upon a time' cool, patient, composed and ever-smiling gal is no more.

I'm tempted to learn and practise some yoga. Maybe that would help. I don't want my family to bear the brunt. And of course, I hate to see myself losing my cool, and losing my identity. If only I could draw the line between home and work. Make some quality time for myself and my family. Take those well-deserved breaks more frequently...

So take a break guys. Thanks for the patient hearing (reading). I already feel much better now. Just one of those lows, I guess. And I'm glad I'm out of it :)

12-12-12

The day has arrived, and now the clock has started ticking. Couples rushing to tie the knot, babies getting ready to be born, birthday boys & girls happy that they were born this day...And with the time 12:12:12 arriving in just a few minutes (IST), you can imagine the chaos!

It's all over the place. In the papers, the radio stations, the TV channels, on cyberspace...everybody is making a beeline to make the most of it. So what's the fuss all about?

Will we be around to see another 'sequential' date? Unless destined to live to well over a 125 years, it's a 'no' for me, because 01-01-01 would take another 89 years to come! So what? I'm perfectly okay, even if the date is not sequential. To me, it could be just another day. Albeit, there's something about the number 12 that doesn't fail to fascinate even someone like me with the least of interests in numerology, lucky numbers or auspicious dates.

1. According to Chinese numerology, the number 12 brings harmony to the yin and the yang. '1' is a yang number ruled by the sun, representing independence and individualism. '2' is a yin number ruled by the moon, representing symmetry and balance. 
2. The number 12 has found its way into Religion (12 Apostles), Astrology (12 signs of the Zodiac), and Mythology (12 Greek Gods & Goddesses).
3. There are 12 constellations in the ecliptic.
4. The 12 animals of the Chinese horoscope: the Rat, the Ox, the Tiger, the Cat, the Dragon, the Snake, the Horse, the Goat, the Monkey, the Cock, the Dog and the Pig.
5. The number of function keys on most PC keyboards (F1 through F12)
6. There are 12 basic hues in the color wheel; 3 primary colors (red, yellow, blue), 3 secondary colors (orange, green & purple) and 6 tertiary colors (names for these vary, but are intermediates between the primaries and secondaries).
7. There are 12 ounces in a troy pound (used for precious metals)
8. Mathematicians love 12 for its inherent divisibility. It is a composite number and one of the few smaller numbers that can be evenly divided into multiple subsets: halves, thirds, fourths, sixths and twelfths.
9. There are 12 inches in a foot and 12 in a dozen (Did you know 12 dozens are known as a gross? And why ever do we have 13 in a baker's dozen?)
10. There are 12 pairs of ribs in most humans.
11. There are 12 face cards in a deck.
12. 12 often represents the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. December is the 12th month of the year; every 12 hours day turns to night or night to day.

Now as I countdown to 12:12:12...hope to hear from you on what you know about the number 12, and if you really think 12-12-12 is worth all the attention!

Foto Kochi

It had been a long long time since we did this? I mean, just head out on a drive with family, and relax over the weekend. Work had been absolutely hectic, leaving me tired and lazy to do anything else. But this Sunday was different. When hubby said, let's take the detour after Church, I jumped at the opportunity. We decided to do 'Foto Kochi'. Wondering if that's a new destination? Quite, I would say. Since it would be OLD destination (Fort Kochi) in a NEW perspective (equipped with our new camera)!

So I'm going to let the Fotos (picture)s do all the talking for Fort Kochi. All photos published in this post belong to the author. Any unauthorized copy, reproduction, reuse or modification of any sort is strictly prohibited, whether for personal or commercial purpose.

Fishing boats at harbour

Tripod becomes bone for puppy

It's lonely out there!

Chinese Fishing Nets

Tug-of-fish

Hop a little

The vibrant memories to carry home

Books and Old World Charm

Sleepy hamlet - selling trinkets

The Land of Elephants & Backwaters

Riding over CM

Sea and Sweat

Collision course

And finally, me, in a picturesque backdrop of backwaters!

Big Hairy Audacious Goal

My personal BHAG (For those of you who are not familiar with the term: Pronounced Bee-hag, abbrev. of Big Hairy Audacious Goal, it actually means a strategic medium-long term business goal that sounds audacious but is not impossible) had no "big hair" in it, though "audacious" had quite a few occurrences; I've had no fetish for long-straight hair at all!

34 years of living with short hair, it sort of grew on me. Then a friend nudged me to grow my hair, and the parlour I went to for a hair-cut convinced me that I should grow my hair at least till shoulder length, saying it would suit me better (and would not make my neck look so lo..ong). 

But as always, it seemed to take ages, and with growing frustration and falling hair, I finally gave up and rushed to the Salon to have my hair chopped off. The Tibetan hairstylist coaxed me to try straightening and I DID! My friends were just as surprised as I was to see that long hair didn't look too bad on me, after all! 

But now my own wavy hair is growing out those smooth strands and I'm not too sure if I want to straighten it or have it cut short. With the amount of hair fall, one thing I do know is, if I chop it off, I'm never ever going to grow it back to this length again. So maybe (just "maybe") I'll give it one more go, try a funky hairstyle or something with my loooong hair (now it's grown a bit longer than what you see in the pic). BHAG, you think? 

Will let you know, if I successfully get to keep my hair long, for a bit longer, and if the hairstylist (still hunting) can actually give me a funky hairdo, something that suits me!

Just for laughs - Phunny English Poem

 
We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,

But though we say mother, we never say methren.

Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!   

Let's face it - English is a funny (or should it be phunny) language.

There is no egg in eggplant 

nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England!

We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly, 

Boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.   

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,

Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?

Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends, and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?   

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
Should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.   

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?

We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,

While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?   

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it out,
And in which an alarm goes off by going on.   

And, in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?   

And if people from Poland are called Poles
Then people from Holland should be Holes
And the Germans, Germs.   

And let's not forget the Americans, who changed s to z, but that's another story.

- A language-confused netizen

Ever heard of a crack in the heart?

I’d been wanting a new mobile phone for over 2 years - a ‘Smartphone’ what they call, to replace my Nokia N72 which was literally ageing in my hands. Which one, depended on various factors like the utility, the brand, the price, the looks, the features and all that. Each salesman outsold the other on their favourite or recommended brand / model that only did me more confused.

The main purpose - apart from making/receiving calls of course, was to be able to access my mails, review creatives and give my feedback and such else, on the move. After several rounds of web search, much deliberation – between iPhone, Blackberry, Samsung SIII/SII…

I settled on a Samsung Galaxy Note (though the price pinched my heart and burnt a hole in my pocket – it was time I had one or so I consoled myself!), because I thought it was like a small tab-cum-big mobile so I didn’t have to carry 2 devices but enjoy the benefits of both!

I was excited like a little girl holding on to cotton candy or a bunch of balloons. Exploring the magic of touch, the speed of internet, angry birds and all those fun android games and apps, mobile TV, driving directions with voice, clarity of photos shot, da da da…and hours whizzed by like seconds. That was less than a month ago.

Yesterday, I wish it was just a nightmare…something dreadful happened! I was working at my desk. The headphone was plugged to my Note. Some visitor walked in. I got up to join him. Just remembered I’d left my phone behind. Got hold of the phone. Felt a bit of a tug on the other side. Headphone cord was stuck somewhere. Before I could do anything else, the Note was out of its Flip Cover and face down on the Desk. The N72 had seen worse falls, from greater heights, so I casually picked it up and tried to tap it to life. And what do I see?

My head went numb. I was just gaping at the Note for what seemed like eternity. Took me a while to get to my senses. A quarter of the screen was lit with a cacophony of colours, the rest of the screen was blank. My heart was in my mouth. I switched off the Note, removed the battery, turned it around, put it back in and tried to revive it back to life (save the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!). The same irregular quarter of screen with a magenta-blue mix of colours / pixels. I thought I would faint. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. The world around me seemed to be spinning.

Then I noticed the crack (2 actually on the LCD screen, oh no, not the screen, maybe it was the touch panel. I felt the crack in my heart. 

Bungalow & Farm Holiday – Part II

The ancient charm of a colonial bungalow, the rustic charm of a farm resort-----contd.

April 21-23, 2012

The drive from Vaghamon to Vandiperiyar (14 kms from Thekkady) was filled with nature’s wonderful hues and views. As we were nearing our destination – Harithavanam Farmer Resort in Keerikara, the emerald green tea plantations welcomed us, stretching 6 kilometres way up to the resort. We unwound the window glasses, let the cool and fresh wind in, turned up the volume of the music playing “We will, we will rock you!” and looked forward to gulping down some fun, on the rocks. 

The Resort had this very earthy concept, with generous use of bamboos in its decor. We were to stay in 2 cottages which had thatched roofs and eco-friendly materials to keep it pleasantly cool in any weather. A refreshingly cool lemonade, spiced up with ginger was waiting. A shot of spirit, followed by a heavenly feast (traditional Kerala cuisine with fish curry, fried fish, dry prawns chutney and the works!) and we were all ready to hit the waters.

We changed into suitable outfits and made our way through the plantations (coffee, spices, fruits and vegetables), down to the river. The water wasn’t too deep, as it was the peak of summer, but just enough to stay afloat and beat the heat. We had a splash of a time. We sat like hippos in the water, and could see small fishes curious and nibbling at our feet. We spent about an hour by the river and went back up.

We then played some cricket (we always carry bat, ball and stumps in the boot, to play where we please!) after which we indulged in some steaming hot pazhampori (ripe banana slices dipped in a batter of gram flour and fried in coconut oil…slurp, slurp!) and refreshing hot chai (tea). We got to cuddle some cute li'l rabbits too.

Next we got ready to go on the fishing trek down the river, across the bridge, through the plantations…with a professional fisherman to guide us. What a catch we had! 

My elder daughter Ann proudly lifted live fish one by one, from the net into the basket. And to have that fried and curried for dinner is an experience worth relishing (A boat can float in my mouth now, just thinking about it)!

 We had time for a quick shower, and got ready for campfire and dinner. Rotis, Rabit roast, Fish fry, Chicken curry, Peanut masala and Fresh green salads with some clinking of glasses, in a background of music blasting off from my sister’s mobile, kids all flared up with their own singing and dance performances and then a grand finale with all of us breaking into a tribal sort of dance around the fire. It was a sight, no doubt, but gratefully there was no one else around, but us!

Crashed the night and morning we were up early to have a quick breakfast - Vellayappam and beef stew, and hit the road on our journey back home. The drive was not very pleasant though what with the endlessly curvy roads and the kids and sis giving in to motion sickness.

Finally we were on home ground, bringing back with us the memories of a fine vacation. Though just 2 days in all (the weekend), it was a fulfilling and refreshing holiday, worth waiting for!

Busy days ahead, I switched on my laptop and nearly swooned at the mails and the work in store for me. The worst part of a holiday, is having to get back to work, I tell you! Just like the Monday morning blues, I'm suffering from 'Back from holiday' blues...Will get over it soon for sure, but hey, who wants to?!

Bungalow & Farm Holiday – Part I

The ancient charm of a colonial bungalow, the rustic charm of a farm resort

April 21-23, 2012

It was a journey amidst a hectic schedule. A harried couple of months at work, followed by a weekend getaway plan, what with sis bil in town. Leaving behind a pile of work that would be sitting a pile higher when back from holiday. Kids, Bob and I along with my sis and bil hit the road early in the morning.



A whirlwind visit of Bharananganam the resting place of Saint Alphonsa en-route to Vaghamon. 

The highway on four wheels and six spirited souls (six abs none!) continued on the dreary drive uphill.

The first casualty (of motion sickness) turned out to be my 3 yr old daughter Becky (the youngest of the lot) who threw up without warning. But I held up the mug in the nick of time saving our clothes and the car insides…phew! (A mug is handier and less messier than the pukey bags/plastic covers, and so accompanies us on all our car journeys)


The rest of the journey passed by quite uneventfully, save the beautiful sights around us - the mist clad hills, rocky mountains, views of the bottomless valleys, tea plantations….






And lo and behold…we arrived at our first destination – Vaghamon – A right turn from the T-Junction and about 500 metres down the road is the Estate Bungalow of MMJ Plantations - our exotic place of stay.


A bit more about the Bungalow...

Built in 1927-28 by the then Chiefs of Vaghamon (Travancore) Tea Company Mr. Hammonds and Mr. Gardinier (Brits), this Bungalow is situated inside 2000 acres of Tea, Cardamom and Coffee Plantation at an elevation of 3100 feet above sea level. The wooden floors are fixed 3.5 feet above the ground level.

Most of the Bungalow remains quite intact with no major renovation having taken place, except perhaps for the modern bathrooms adjoining the two guestrooms, and the regular maintenance and cleaning around.

We were welcomed with a cup of steaming hot tea served in the cozy settings of the living room in all its colonial splendour. All rooms in the Bungalow have a fireplace that adds an exotic charm to the place. We quickly had a shower in the modernized bathrooms and took a quick tour of the Bungalow. It has a visitor’s room, living room, library, 2 guest suites with attached bath, recreation room (caroms, chess, cards...), dining room, kitchen, storeroom and a caretaker’s room. Each room spacious, and each nook telling a resplendent story of the yesteryears.



We played a few rounds of caroms (had been ages since the last time I played!), had some refreshing drinks, then went out for a walk in the garden. 

They have a beautiful garden of medicinal plants and flowers of all kinds and colours that make it picture perfect. With organic farming, everything locally cultivated and farmed, and a poultry farm, our lunch was nothing less than perfect. It was then time for a siesta, short yet sweet.

The fresh tea refreshed us and we were ready for the drive around Vaghamon – A place called Pine Valley (acres of Pine Trees) the perfect picnic spot and a scenic place popular among cinematographers in South India, then proceeded t to Mottakunnu – again a picnic spot, a seemingly endless meadow with little hilly mounds. The weather was rather pleasant.

Drove back to the Bungalow, enjoying the sights around. More rounds of caroms followed. Then, sumptuous dinner. We were ready to crash. After a good night’s sleep, we woke up early, walked around the tea estate (covered not even 1% of the 2000 acres perhaps!) and the veg garden.




Many photo-ops later, and after bread, butter, eggs and tea we hit the road, heading to our next destination – Thekkady.

[This post begs for a Part II, so I’ll be back…Hope you’ll be back too!]

Parenting woes

Finally, got down to writing some of the parenting woes I promised I would. Things I would fret about, but not really worry about (lest I frighten aspiring or to-be parents), but they are 'woes' nonetheless…phew!

1. Well….one of the main reasons I’m so irregular on blogosphere. My 2 year old doesn’t let me sit on the computer/laptop when she’s awake, she doesn’t sleep when I’m awake and yes she wakes up early in the morning. Now I’m left with the choice of, blogging at work during breaks (with work being hectic, that’s out of question) or blogging in the middle of the night (but once I hit the bed I’m knocked out, coz I sleep like a log! The only 'thing' that can wake me up is my 2 year old!!). There! Now I have a pretty excuse :)
2. Once you are a parent, you can forget about yourself. Life is then all about your kids. Everything you do, say or think has a direct bearing on how your kids will be. Responsibilities and expectations are huge. All that weighing on the head and shoulders, it's hard to keep your head over your shoulders! No kidding!!
3. You will always be judged ‘good’, ‘bad’ or ‘ugly’ by how your kids behave and/or how you behave with the kids. If your kids are naughty and you just let them be, your well-meaning neighbours, relatives or friends will look you up and down, as if to say “if I were you I would have whacked the kid”, and if you chide them, they’ll tchh, tchh…as if to say “Poor kids, mean parents!” Not that I care what others think of me, but I sure will want to have a positive influence on my kids’ lives.
4. Go out shopping, and kids go berserk - they want anything and everything. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to roll your eyes. My little one sits on the trolley, picks up whatever item she can reach and fills up the cart in no time. Once, my elder one managed to break a jam bottle at the supermarket in her excitement and it was so embarrassing I haven’t had the courage to take her along to a store after that. You can’t try on clothes, because they want to enter the trial room along with you. Can’t dare go near a shoe shop, because the li’l one goes crazy when she sees shoes. She tries on every single pair and doesn’t want to leave the store even if you’re done with your shopping. Shopping is a nightmare with kids on the loose!
5. You can’t go out for movies, because most movies these days are not good for kids and you can’t leave them behind can you?! You can’t even watch TV peacefully, for fear of corrupting their young minds!
6. Go to a restaurant and they act like they’ve never seen food before. The other day when we dined at a fancy restaurant, the li’l one was eagerly waiting for food to arrive and every time she saw the waiter she was jumping out of her seat, “where’s my soup, where’s my soup!” Once, she managed to break a glass (so embarrassing I tell you!). Most times, she manages to drop her spoon, fork or knife on the floor and then quickly grabs mine. She clinks at the plate so hard, I worry if the plate would just crack. My appetite usually vanishes by the time food arrives, with the tension of damage control!
7. You’re always late just about everywhere, because you have to DRESS UP your kids and drag them along whether they like it or not, because you can’t leave them alone at home. And then again you get these looks as if to ask “why is their hair so shabby” (the hair bands, hair clips or whatever you use to tame their hair would be in their hand, my bag or gone for good!) or “don’t they have any other clothes” (they’re seen wearing their same old “favourite” outfit till they can wear it no more!). And hey, just to answer the question: they decide what to wear, not me!
8. 2 year old or 8 year old, you can’t raise your voice even a little to chide them for something they might have done wrong. They get “ANGRY”. My 8 year old is a sweetheart until you tell her to take her books and study. She gets angry, she makes a big fuss, she feels sleepy, or her head (or was it her tummy?) hurts and such lame excuses ('natak company' I call them!). You can’t tell her to eat quickly. She takes half an hour for breakfast (2 idlis, or quarter part of puttu, or 1 chappatti, or 1 appam….), 45 min to 1 hour for dinner (a measly meal at that!). The 2 year old is adorable, huggable, lovable and all that, but you’ll be surprised what she does when she gets angry! She pinches and punches. She throws her tantrums, goes to another room and stays there till you coax, cajole and sweet talk her. And what not! PHEW, she's little, but she can get you on your knees!!
9. They don’t take “NO” for an answer, but anytime you tell them to do anything, pat comes the reply “NO”!
10. Keeping the siblings apart is a task in itself! They’ll be playing and laughing one moment, and the very next minute fighting and crying. Aargghhhhh! But then I remember, I was once a little girl too, pinching my sister and getting punched in return! So there, I forgive them :)

You want them to be the perfect children. You want to be the perfect parent. But I guess, it doesn't work that way. It’s all these imperfections that make us who we are and you love them even more because of what they are. So even as I may crib often about my chores and woes as a parent, I’m loving every moment of it. Thank you kids for being part of my life. You guys mean the world to me :)

Parenting Joys

1. Topic of conversation / Icebreakers: Kids are the subject of conversation, small talk or big talk, among friends or even strangers - helps break the ice.
2. Pass time / Time pass: When you are stuck in an unknown place or among unknown people and have to while away time without feeling out of place, kids de-alienate you - You can talk to them, fuss around them...they enjoy the dedicated attention and you enjoy their company all the more. 
3. Boredom busters: When there's nobody else at home and nothing else to do, kids are free amusement/entertainment. You never get bored with them around.
4. Item to flaunt: You can brag and flaunt...even their tiniest achievements, and feel your chest swelling with every word you speak about them.
5. Preferential treatment: In a crowded train / bus, ticket counter or any waiting area, with a kid seated on your waist, you are bound to get special treatment - be offered a seat or allowed to jump the queue and such else.
6. Talk gibberish and be understood: You can talk  gibberish, with a sweet tone, nodding your head and waving your hands and get the sweetest giggle from your little ones. They can talk gibberish, and you can understand it too, quite effortlessly.
7. Get away with being late: Late to work, late for party, late for just about anything, point the finger at your kids, and you are let scot-free!
8. Feel like a child again: You relive your childhood through them. Start from scratch. Learn all over again. 
9. Free exercise machine: Running around kids is like having a free treadmill!
10. Test of Patience: Ahh....I think I'm soon running out of it!!

There's more of course. And I'm enjoying every bit of it. Would like to hear the version of other mommy & daddy bloggers too :)

PS: Perhaps my next blog will be about Parenting woes!