"Oh, and World Peace..definitely"

If I were a beauty-queen, that is what I would have to want. At least to have a good shot at the title, that is! Well, apart from the impossibly proportioned body and impeccable makeup, of course. And the clothes. And shoes. And all that jazz....

But since I am a Rockin' Girl Blogger, thanks to Vee, I am going to want a whole different bunch of croissants (Hey, my acceptance speech, my blog, my choice of nouns!). Some of these will be actual croissants...the chocolate-filled variety (what, haven't you been reading this blog?!)...and others will be more non-food in nature. Like stopping female foetocide, more literacy for the girl child, more takers for orphan adoption, stronger law enforcement and weaker social prejudices. And this is just to start with....!











Now it's time to wear the sash, pop on the tiara and scoop up the bouquet. And hand the baton over to these other rockin' women....:

Sujata over at blogpourri
DiTty over in the fishbowl
Namrata over in Boston

I love reading their blogs, and hope you do too... Rock on, Ladies.

"..not called Power Moo-Cow"

It's been a while, and I can once again feel the urge to crack 'em knuckles and pound out a post...just wish I had more time in which to do that!

Work has been...interesting, and certainly keeping me on my toes. Travel has been picking up, for certain. Off late it has been more small-town India and not so much of the Metros. Which is fine, except morning-evening dashes into and out of a place are best not considered. Most places are connected only by the budget airlines or by road (so my tail is protesting a whole lot more these days!) and the whole trip just takes that much longer. Still, am getting to see a whole bunch of places I may not have visited otherwise...

The rains are back and this burg is starting to strangle itself all over again. One evening burst of rain and a 20 minute run demonically transforms into a 90 minute one. Probably the worst part of the those 90 minutes is having to keep switching radio stations because you can find no good music...where have all the good songs gone?! Oh, and my knee will soon need surgery from all the stress of constant pedal-stomping...clutch-brake-clutch-brake-clutch-BREAK!

The upside is that 'rents are coming back after a loooooooooooong trip overseas...it's been 4 months since I saw Mom! So, tomorrow night shall be a stake-out at the airport waiting for them to arrive.

Oh, frig...I had almost managed to forgot the smegging rain. You know...I love a good downpour with the whole drama of lightning flashes and thunder drumrolls...that is good macho weather flexing it's muscles for you. What I hate is whiner weather....drip drip drip and constant drizzle. Oh, go find your spine why don't you! Sheesh!

Upside again...am hoping Pops will be packing pain-au-chocolate...Oh yum! If anything can banish the rainy-day blues, it's the prospect of biting into a warm roll with a gooey chocolate center.....**sigh** :o)

Happy 60th...

...Jai Hind

Day One & Counting

The Faz is off again, for a 3-month stint, this time. Talk about withdrawal symptoms....(sort of like having PMS, only, without the M...!)

Yenivays, am sure once the initial blues wear off, I will slip right back into bachelorette mode and make the most of all this ME time :oD

Which same will mean lots of movies (good thing the mux is right next door!), music, cooking experiments (Katz, Polz, Anj, your gift shall finally get used), tons of reading...oh, and lots of messing about with the decor in the house.

Sheeeeesh....how domestic does all that sound!!

Photo Blog : STOP or my mom will shoot!

One week down, many to go

What do you do when you can't sleep and you're missing someone who won't be home for weeks? Read till the lines blur? Lay in front of the TV, flipping channels till you realize today turned into tomorrow? Make popcorn in the middle of the night? All of the above?

*sigh*

Water, water, everywhere...will someone please get me a mop?!

I have discovered a profundity. The more things change, the more they remain the same. Or words to that effect. Said profundity was discovered soon after my installation into my new home with Faz (I know that sounds like I am a washing machine, or an Aquaguard wall unit, but please, quell that thought).

What brought this on was the quiet, incessant and horribly familiar plopping. Of Water. Through the Ceiling. Water woes and me...there is some elemental magnetism at work here for, everywhere I go, water seems to just follow me around, waiting for a chance to Murphy me. (When? Where?! There, there, there and there!)

I suppose I should be thanking my lucky stars that, this time, the plops avoided our bed and headed for the bathroom. The downstairs bathroom, below ours, that is. And as luck, or physics, or laws of something-else-or-the-other would have it, this meant ripping out the flooring of our bathroom to get to the problem, which seemed to be the pipes running between the 2 floors.

So, after a week of clearing out our bedroom, and dust-covering anything that could not be cleared out, I watched on as the plumber, and his minions, tore things apart in the attached bathroom.

Plumber, looking down his nose : Yeh bahut kharab kam kiya hai, madam (This is very shoddy work, madam)

Moi, holding my nose: Err...problem kya hai? (Asking for it, by asking what the problem seems to be)

Him: Yeh slope something, woh pipe something else, aur phir yeh trap yet another something. (go figure...I don't speak plumber)

Moi: Theek kar sakthe ho? Kitna time lagega? (Get to the point...can you fix it? And how long will it take?!)

Him: Teen - chaar din (3-4 days...subliminal translation to a week, 10 days...!)

Some days later, triumphant yell from the barely recognizable bathroom. I ran up the stairs hoping it meant things are just about fixed. (Yeah right. See that chap waving cheerfully? That's Murphy)

Him: Problem pipe ka nahin tha, shower ka tha! (the problem was not the pipes, but your shower unit).

Moi: Theek kar sakthe ho? Kitna time lagega? (Get to the point...can you fix it? And how long will it take?!)

Him: Teen - chaar din (3-4 days...Yeesh!)

Later that day, grinning plumber and minions get ready to leave the apartment.

Him: Madam, humne something kiya, phir woh kiya, ab kal aake yeh karenge (more plumber-speak)

Moi: Tho, kab ready hoga? (So, when can I move back into my room??!! )

Him: Teen - chaara din :o)

I gave up. I am now resigned to sleeping in the living room, while the bathtub and flush tank occupy place of pride in what used to be our bedroom. Someday, thing shall be as they were meant to be. Someday.

Poofs

It's funny how some people think they can get away with anything. In my book, you can only throw around as much weight as your are willing to pull. However, delusions often run deeper than intelligence ever did. Which same means I am often surrounded by feather-poofs under the gross misconception that one of them is current heavy-weight champion of the world. That went out with Rocky Balboa!

Yet, feather-poofs, the world over, strut and stride and splutter and titter without really realizing why they are so easily blown away. The catch is in knowing the difference between the poofer, and the true punter. Take on the wrong one, and....

Occurs to me that this train of thought left the station, apparently, well before I got on. So, shall stop and hope to flag the next one!

The Content Gardener (!)

I've recently up gardening, after a fashion! Which is not to say that I'm attempting to turn patches of bare land into flora filled bouquets...nothing of the sort.

I'm happy to just set out a variety of potted plants, on the balcony, and hope to keep them alive through the summer! The main effort, on my part, is watering the plants, smiling at them, and wafting love and fresh air at them :o)

Now, watering...a finely tuned activity that involves a judicious mix of sprinkling (to clean the leaves) and pouring (to keep the soil nice and wet). Drown the plant, or not, it is certainly soothing to stand out, every morning, pottering around with a mug of water. Maybe I imagine it, but the Wind always seems to blow cooler after I water the plants. And in this summer, that's saying something!

The smell of wet earth always reminds me of home. And Pops. and his gardens of profusion. Not that I aspire to tend such gardens. I am content with my pots of miscellaneous green fuzz, cacti, oddly bunched leaves and unknown, multi-coloured flowers. No names, no botany. Just the plants, their water, and me.

V for Violence

Violence in Bangalore. 3 buses torched. 2 shops destroyed. Angry Mobs. Tear-gas shells. 400 people detained by the police. 'Breaking News' for the day....rather the past few days. When folks took a break from Shilpa Shetty, and the Racism furore, that is.

Take a bunch of hot-headed, cocky, foolish young 'guns', who decide to wake up one day and protest the manner in which Saddam Hussein was treated. Rather late in the day, and all that, but what the hey. So what they do is slap a 'This is Bush' label on an effigy and have themselves a little bonfire party. Add to this a passing rally by a religious group. Laws of Nature: a bonfire...flags...*whoooooosh*.

You have yourself the beginnings of a 'politically-instigated communal situation'. One in which politics be damned, the innocent bystander be attacked, the media has a field day and everyone with an axe to grind 'speaks for the people'.

As if there weren't enough people, out there, with debatably real reasons for protests, strikes, violence and assault. Now we are chasing after will o' the wisps with burning brands and hateful slogans.

*sigh* ... wake me up after the Apocalypse.

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P.S: In case you're worrying, said violence has been restricted to sections of Ulsoor and Shivajinagar. The rest of Bangalore, thankfully, remains sane.

Taz the Weird

See, this is what happens when love-lorn gorilla tags you, and then forgets to tell you about it....it's left to your random browsing to unearth the tag...sheesh! Axe...sloppy!

Yenivays, gorillas notwithstanding, it looks like her Tazness is about to join the ranks of the weird (those of you who already know me...can the sniggers!). So, what makes me weird? Let me count the ways...

1. I cannot bear to enter a dark room, or be the last one leave a room after switching off the lights. This primordial urge usually has me hollering, and racing up the stairs, before Faz hits the lights. It also makes sure I leave lots, and lots, of low-watt lights burning all over the place...just in case I get the urge to wake up and wander in the middle of the night.

2. I don't look too closely at dark windows...every horror book I ever read, movie I ever watched, is waiting to jump out at me. **Shudder** ! And, yet, I cannot help but turn on 'Buffy'....sheesh....masochist.

3. You've heard of marching to one's own drummer? Yeah, well, I kind of have my own orchestra...all the time, in my head, music playing, urging me to dance. As a result, you will see me doing a shoulder-shimmy, while waiting at a traffic light, or wiggling in the lift. And yeah, am told that visual is as weird as it sounds...complete with hand movements and all!

4. I tune out of the 'real' world, completely, when reading. Which same means you could be having a life-altering discussion with me, and I would be too far gone to notice. I hear nothing, see nothing apart from what I am reading, and don't feel much pain. Faz is yet to tire of this, but for now he just grins when I surface, some time in the future, with a dazed look going 'huh, did you say something?'. I also have to read before I go to sleep...even if just a paragraph!

5. I can't eat anything sweet without wanting to top it off with something savory...I don't like sweets that taste 'sweet'! Which usually means that I can only eat obbattu with mango pickle, and will always leave a morsel of something spicy for my last bite. This also extends to not eating sweets before drinking tea or coffee.

6. I have to wash my feet in order to feel really fresh and clean...this includes after waking up, coming home after having been out, and just before I climb into bed. Not only do I have to wash 'em, I have to moisturize. Which same leaves me with feet better looked after than most people's faces (hey, not made up, my doc says so!)

Now, having just come off being really sick, am not in the mood to be contagious. So am not tagging onwards. Of course, I won't stop you if you feel like joining the ranks of the Weird....there's more of us than you know ;o)

A brief trip to hell

It was supposed to be a quick zip into the hills and back...sort of a quick-n-dirty 'there, and back again'(though, with no hobbits in tow). It was supposed to be the filler 'twixt an early breakfast and and a late lunch.

A small matter of leaky pipes, up at the cottage, had Faz, Dad and me piling into the car for a quick looksie. A couple hours onwards, a couple back, and a couple in between...like a nice little dance set.

'Twas nothing of the sort....our quick sojourn upto Ooty, and back, turned into a rattling, bone-jarring, dusty crawl up one hill and down another. It is usually a nice, meandering, drive through forest reserve and up winding roads, with the cozy prospect of cool breeze, pines and homemade chocolate awaiting you.

Except, this time around, there were no roads. Literally. Just stones, gravel, sand, ruts and roots. The roads had packed up and gone South for the Winter, it looked like, and had no intention of returning in a hurry. What little was left kept us alert, and cursing, at a steady 15kmph.

As a result, what should have been a six hour trip, turned into an eleven-and-a-half hour trial, with aching muscles and screaming tail bones...no wonder Mom was pissed :o(

Hiatus Haiku

rushing and running
losing and finding, travel
and weddings...Oy Veh!

Will and Wishing...

She had never intended for things to turn out the way they did.

In fact, she had never inteded for things to become real...after all, some dreams were much better when they stayed inside your head!

But, somehow, her will and wish had gotten mixed up. Which is why she was lying in the grass, mixed up with this strong body, being thoroughly kissed by the tastiest lips she had imagined. And all the while her mind was going around in circles, partly from the nibbling that was now trailing from her mouth to her neck, and partly from trying to figure out how she could snap this fantasy off of her and back into the closet in her mind...the one reserved for loney afternoons and midnight musings.

But, did she really want to, she asked herself as her body curved up to meet the mouth that was doing delightful things at her open neckline. A neckline that, for some reason, seemed to be open to her navel! What was she thinking?! Ofcourse she had to....who knew what else her mind would let loose if she didn't quickly get on top of things. Though not being on top seemed to have distinct advantages right then!

She quickly thrust the thought aside and started pulling in her focus to one point deep inside her mind. As the fantasy, she had found herself in, slowly faded she concentrated on the glowing point and drew strength from it.

As she did, she made herself picture herself back where she was before it all happened. Back at her desk, twirling her pen, idly, as she stared out of the window at the sunlit park opposite. That is how all this had started.

Only, now, she made herself turn aside and sit up straight. And she pictured pushing the feeling, previously coursing through her, behind her where she could neither see it nor feel it.

That was the tricky part...if she pushed too hard she would lose the dream entirely, but if she didn't push hard enough it would take over before she could close the door in her head....the door that lead to all her dreams.

There. She had it back under control. Breathing a sigh of relief...or was it regret?...she opened her eyes and smiled. She was back at her dull office, behind her desk, with the sun-warmed breeze floating in the window to disturb some papers. Everything was real.

Until the door opened...and he walked in, stopped in front of her with his hands on his hips, a lazy smile on his lips, a knowing glint in his eyes....she knew those lips, those hands, those eyse....she had just locked them away!

Hadn't she?

Sparks, Sparkles, Sparklers

lamps and lights
fireworks in the night
family, feasts and friends

Wishing you the Season's Best!

Words clawing at the inside of my head
straining to get out, to be said
Words that don't make any sense to me
words, twisting and turning, trying to be

Why can't I say them, why can't I see?

Book tagged!

What goes around comes around, and all that jazz....I-sa been tagged by the Axe, so here goes:

1. Book that changed your life: Richard Bach's Illusions and, funnily enough, the Merchant of Venice. I could not help but feel sorry for Shylock, and that started me thinking...perceptions, and prejudice, are sneaky little things! However, I must say that almost every book I have read (with very few exceptions) has had something to make me think. So, kinda hard to list them all :o)

2. Book you've read more than once: That would be just about every book I own...but I think the ones I cannot HELP re-reading are the Wodehouses and Pratchetts. Life is too short not to fill it with laughter!

3. Book you'd take to a desert island: Richard Bach's "Stranger to the Ground"....if I believe hard enough, I will actually fly (hey, if believing worked for Tink, it works for me!)

4. Book that made you laugh: ANYthing by Terry Pratchett...if you haven't read one, yet, you haven't lived.

5. Book that made you cry: Don't really remember crying for a book....movies, yes, books, no...

6. Book you wish you had written: Once again, too many to list...am not even going to try!

7. Book you wish had never been written: Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time (Book 1)...after all, that is where all the mischief started! 10 books down (or is it 11?!) the story is still going on and I have lost track of people, times and places... :o(

8. Book you are currently reading: Pyramids by Pratchett, No Full Stops in India by Mark Tully

9. Book you have been meaning to read: Les Miserables...bought the book and just keep staring at it, and then passing it by...it will take some serious offtime, loads of cinnamon-topped frothy coffee and a table by a window, on a rainy day, for me to actually start.

10. Tagging: Do I have to?! Really? Truly?

Secure that Lipstick!

Security concerns notwithstanding, separating a woman from her lipstick and migraine medicine is an open invitation for trouble!

Just when you think you have understood all the security norms, and have packed away all potentially hazardous material, something new comes up (BTW, I am curious to see how you terrorize an airplane with a tube of toothpaste or lipstick…threaten to brush your teeth mid-aisle, or smear lipstick on the pilot’s collar?!) …

“Madam, you have something in your hand baggage” said the wise old man on the security mountain.

I smiled at him, sagely, and shook my head “No, I have packed away all liquids / gels / creams / sharp objects in my suitcase”

“No” he insisted “there is something in your bag…please check it again”

What the…?!

I dug through the bag, holding up everything in it for his scrutiny.

“No, not that…not that…no…no…all that is ok…keep checking” he intoned.

I kept digging…papers, books, pens, visiting cards, keys, laptop (minus charger), mobile phone (also minus charger!), and tissues…what else was there?! I had even shifted my lipstick tube to my suitcase at the suggestion of the lady at the check-in counter (although the chappies at Bangalore let me bring it!)

“There is nothing else in the bag…only my tablets” I showed him the little case with my migraine medicine and emergency Digene.

Him bristling “Not allowed!”

Me incredulous “What?! I brought this with me through Bangalore security!”

“That was Bangalore…here it is different. Do you have a prescription with you?”

Now, when was the last time YOU carried a prescription for Digene!?

Me subdued “No”

“Then please pack it away” To his credit, he did not smirk at his little victory.

**Sigh**
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Just so this is clear, I have no issues with the whole concept of heightened security, or the associated restrictions. I understand the reasons and agree that the public should cooperate, in our own interest. My grievance is with the inconsistency of security norms...make up your collective, official, minds people!

Tag Heu? 'Er!

It looks like I have been tagged by Dents (No, not SRK, despite the title of this post! But Hope lives on!)...and poked as well, just in case I forgot that I was tagged! So here goes:

1) Say who tagged you - The One, The Only..The Doctor Denty!

2) Say eight things about yourself - Hmmm...do you think you ready to know eight things about me? Oh very well, if you insist....
I travel a lot.
I try to write about my traveling, but don't always get around to it.
As a result of all this traveling, I tend to buy a lot of books at the airport.
So, now, I have a lot of books.
I take said books and then read late into the night (which is often why I don't do the write I mentioned before!).
Thanks to the reading, I invariably wake up late in the morning.
This is also because I MUST get my daily 8 hours. Or 10. Or 12.
And these 8 / 10 / 12 are in addition to whatever sleep I get when I am on board the 'plane / us / train.

3) Tag 6 people -
The Tag-Master hisself (add this to your self-tag, Dents...go Nuts!), Sujatha, Amreena, Mr.Vee, DiTtY & Axe (you shudn't have dissed the Dents!)

Lemmings?

Once upon a time, India was a secular democracy. Apparently that changed, due to popular demand, but some of us missed getting that memo. So pardon me if I stare at you blankly when you prod me in the ribs, snarling "Sing! Or Else!"...Sholayesque as that may be, I have no need to prove my patriotism any more than the next person:

"The HRD Minister's remarks that there will be no compulsion to sing 'Vande Mataram' is a sign of abject surrender to fundamentalists and anti-nationals who should rather have been told to leave India if they do not want to recite the national song," Malhotra told reporters here.

The BJP leader said the Prime Minister should intervene to ensure singing of the national song became compulsory in schools.

"Also, those who are refusing to sing 'Vande Mataram' should be booked for treason," Malhotra remarked. (Who died and made you King?)

Once upon a time, thinking was the rule, not the exception...apparently that has also changed! "Err...I did not think about that" states the rather befuddled-looking MD of the newly opened Hitler's Cross café, on National Television, when pointed towards the fact that some people would find the connection offensive, hurtful even!:

"I will not change the name. We are not promoting Hitler. My decor or products don't promote Hitler. It's just for the sake of the name " owner Punit Sablok claims.(This, with a rather large portrait, of the mustachioed Fuhrer himself , dominating the background!)

Why do I get this nagging feeling that the migration of the lemmings is underway?