My favourites from around the world

I find it interesting to read the adages and proverbs of different lands. Here are a few that I like from around the world.


Irish definitions:

of a gossiper:

She has a tongue that would clip a hedge.

of a coarse, ill-mannered person using poor language:

What would you expect out of a pig but a grunt?

on trying to change a stubborn person's mind:

You might as well be whistling jigs to a milestone.

of very bad music:

Aw, that's the tune the old cow died of.

of one who overstays their welcome:

If that man went to a wedding, he'd stay for the christening.

of a talkative person:

That man would talk the teeth out of a saw.

in praise of strong whiskey:

I felt it like a torchlight procession going down my throat.

said of a woman who had made a bad marriage:

She burnt her coal and did not warm herself.

of an unfortunate one:

He is always in the field when luck is on the road.

of very wet weather:

It's a fine day for young ducks.

of someone who always plans carefully:

If he's not fishing he's mending his nets.


Pearls from Africa:

A low-class man will just talk; deeds are the hallmark of a gentleman. (Swahili)

God is our neighbour when our brother is absent. - (Swahili)

A donkey knows no gratitude. - (Swahili)

The good looks of a moron do not stay that way for long. - (Ethiopia)

The haughty blind person picks a fight with his guide. - (Ethiopia)

Do not vacillate or you will be left in between doing something, having something and being nothing. - (Ethiopia)

It is foolhardy to climb two trees at once just because one has two feet. - (Ethiopia)

Though the lion and the antelope happen to live in the same forest, the antelope still has time to grow up. - (Ghana)

When you are at home, your troubles can never defeat you. - (Ghana)


Israeli sayings:

A bird that you set free may be caught again, but a word that escapes your lips will not return.

A mother understands what a child does not say.

A slave shows his true character, not while he is enslaved, but when he becomes a master.

Commit a sin twice and it will not seem a crime.

Don't approach a goat from the front, a horse from the back, or a fool from any side.

Don't be too sweet lest you be eaten up; don't be too bitter lest you be spewed out

Never trust the man who tells you all his troubles but keeps from you all his joys.

One of life's greatest mysteries is how the boy who wasn't good enough to marry your daughter can be the father of the smartest grandchild in the world.


Time heals old pain, while it creates new ones.


From India, sayings of the Buddha:


Men give up one thing to take up another, but in spite of numerous changes they do not find peace. They are no better than monkeys who let go one bough to take hold of another, only to let it go again.

Silence is an empty space, space is the home of the awakened mind.


Flower and thorn are in the same stem.


He who slings mud loses ground.


He who lives by the sword eats with bloody hands.


What's done to the children is done to society.


A truly wise man does not play leapfrog with a unicorn.


To light a candle is to cast a shadow.


A dog is not considered a good dog because he is a good barker. A man is not considered a good man because he is a good talker.


Ambition is like love, impatient both of delays and rivals.


In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.



A few from Scotland:


Fools look to tomorrow; wise men use tonight.


Friends are lost by calling often and calling seldom.


Give you an inch and you'll tak an ell. (An ell was a Scottish yard of 37 inches).


He goes long barefoot that waits for dead men's shoes.


He's the slave of all slaves who serve's none but himself.


He that teaches himself has a fool for a master.


Money is flat and was meant to be piled up.


Whisky may not cure the common cold, but it fails more agreeably than most other things.

Willful waste makes woeful want.

Wink at small faults - your own are muckle (great)

Ye canna make a silk purse of a sow's lug (a pig's ear).

You may as well keep your breath to cool your porridge.


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Are you heading for Alzheimer's ?

After reading my post ‘Did I say losing it?’ a friend sent this to me so I could check and reassure myself once again that all was fine with me.

Anyways I didn’t want to save it all to myself, so here it comes for you. Remember no cheating, follow instructions honestly. Your time 2 minutes for question 1,2 & 3.

Short Neurological Test

1 - Find the C below, Please do not use any cursor help.





OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO



2 - If you already found the C, now find the 6 below.

99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
69999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999



3 - Now find the N below. It's a little more difficult.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM



This is NOT a joke. If you were able to pass these 3 tests, in less than two minutes, without cheating...you can cancel your annual visit to your neurologist. Your brain is great and you're far from having a close relationship with Alzheimer.

Congratulations




PART 2


eonvrye that can raed this rsaie your hnad.

To my 'selected' strange-minded friends:

If you can read the following paragraph, forward it on to your friends and the person that sent it to you with 'yes' in the subject line.


Only great minds can read this. This is weird, but interesting!




If you can raed this, you have a sgtrane mnid too

Can you raed this? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.

I cdnuolt blveiee that I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd what I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in what oerdr the ltteres in a word are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is that the frsit and last ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can still raed it whotuit a pboerlm. This is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the word as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! If you can raed this forwrad it.





Pat yourself on the back if you read it through smoothly, without hesitation and hemming and hawing!!!

Now look down and check if one leg is a wee bit longer than the other. Trust me, mine was after I went through this test!

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Some Mornings....

Yesterday I woke up to an overcast sky and a cool breeze. I heard the harmonious choir of winged creatures as they flitted among the trees and garden bushes. I espied sparrows, a group of seven sisters, mynahs, honey suckles, bulbuls and though I couldn't see them I heard the distinguishable call of the koel and a peacock.


I closed my eyes and breathed in the peace and tranquillity. I was Eve in Eden......and then the Adam next door shattered the illusion and brought me down to earth as he leaned over the balcony and yelled, "Oye Ram Singh, paani nahin hai, motor chala do..."


Soon the cacaphony of the world drowned out the sounds of my winged friends.' Good Morning world,' I said as I carried on walking to a hot breakfast and Breakfast news!


Glossary:
"Oye Ram Singh, paani nahin hai, motor chala do".....Oye Ram Singh there's no water, turn on the motor (water pump)

Seven Sisters: Jungle Babblers. Commonly called seven sisters because of their tendency to forage in groups of seven to ten.

Koel/koyal: You can hear this bird at this link: http://youtu.be/GoOMlG1Vd_E

Bulbul: Bulbuls are of different kinds. The one that i see regularly is a bird with a black pointy hood, a red patch behind his eye and a red bottom, also called the red vented bulbul. Here is a link: http://youtu.be/sjCmedlFHhA

A Whimsical Little Mind

Watching Alyssa as she went about her day, dancing, prancing, laughing, crying, demanding, deciding, manipulating, teasing, remonstrating; being as unpredictable as a fourteen month old can be, set the whirligig of time spinning and I found myself at different time zones with my boys.


I was with Tintin aged five, who had just returned from a school fete. It was the first time he had attended a fete in school. He was happy, I could tell from the way his eyes glowed and by his non-stop chatter about his day.


“I bought poha for you because you like it,” he said handing me his plastic tiffin box. I was pleased. I opened it and saw a lot of chopped green chilli, carefully collected in one corner.


“Wow! That’s a lot of chilli,” I exclaimed.


“Yes, that’s why I picked them out. You don’t like too much chilli, na?” My heart melted.


“So where is the poha, beta?” I asked looking at the few turmeric yellow grains of rice sticking to the sides.


“Oh, I ate it.”


He didn’t see the broad grin on my face because he had already turned his attention to something else.


“You are so thoughtful about Mama,” I said.


I knew I was not going to forget the day my little boy thought of buying me something I liked, on his first fete. Well, that he picked out the chillies was also so thoughtful. That he ate it up is the whimsical part!



The whirligig spins again and I go further back in time. Tintin is one and a half. I have tutored him about not putting things from the floor into his mouth, because they were “dirty.” “Dhirty,” he had repeated bobbing his head. I was pleased as Punch.


I had left him sitting on a small stool on the balcony. He was munching on almonds, cashewnuts and raisins from a bowl. Then I heard it, a low chant in a monotone; Dhirty...dhirty..dhirty...


I went to see what was so ‘dhirty’ and there he was, meticulously picking up the spilled nuts and raisins from the floor and pitching them over the wall, having pronounced each as dirty! I tried to stop him but the look he gave me as he held one up to me and said dhirty, left no room for retrieval. He insisted on throwing each dhirty, not to mention expensive, nut out.



I wondered if it would be a good idea to teach him about ‘not so dirty.’ After all weren’t almonds supposed to be brain food? However I chucked the idea along with the few remaining almonds. There was much more the brain could feed on. Tintin found books, the best food for thought!



When Tintin was three, we were on our first ever trip to his father’s home town. It was as new for me as it was for him. The people, the language, the culture, everything was new and had a different tone and nuance. Our first lunch with the family found Tintin sitting between an older cousin, much older by about twenty-two years, and one of his father’s college pals.



He was a picture of decorum and good table manners and I puffed up like a mother hen, as my mother-in-law praised him. However, I noticed he was leaning away from the man on his right, the college pal. Thinking he had some sort of discomfort with the chair, I made the big mistake of asking out loud, why he was sitting that way. He nodded his head and kept quiet. So the cousin whispered a query. That was it.


He leaned further away from the pal and said in a stage whisper, “This man is dangerous.”


Nothing could be more far removed from the image of “dangerous” than this thin, meek man sitting bent over his plate.


Given the cultural setting we were in this could be construed as a big insult especially, coming from someone so young. It could also be reflective of the manner of upbringing, thus bringing our parenting skills into question. All of a sudden there was a clash of emotions between the inflated mother hen and the mother. The former deflated and the latter burst out laughing. Thankfully, everyone found it not just funny but charmingly funny; even the pal.


I guess he had no option given the cheerful scenario.


Glossary

Poha....a light dish made of beaten rice and spices.
Beta...son

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Did I say losing it?

When you pick up the clothes, that you have just changed, and carry them with every intention of putting them into the laundry bag, but instead you walk to the kitchen and throw them in the dustbin...you’ve got a problem baby!


When you can’t remember if you had your morning dose of vitamins & meds, an hour or two after breakfast...honey you’ve got a problem!


When you sit to play Solitaire and Hearts for a little while to pass the evening and suddenly realize your arm hurts, your eyes are blurred and it’s 1.30 am or sometimes even 2.30 am....it is a problem!


When you find telltale signs of social withdrawal......you talk to yourself and the walls listen....sweetie go to the doctor!


When you find it hard to remember which regiment your brother is in.....you worry and ask yourself....am I losing it?


When you find yourself groping for simple words because all of a sudden your mind goes blank....and the inner panic makes it worse....yell, it is trouble!


When you stop while talking because you realize you just said something that wasn’t what you meant like “wheels” instead of wind and many such disassociations...it’s not a comforting feeling and you want to talk to someone about it. Someone who will understand, be patient and above all is knowledgeable.


So you go to the only medical person you know and trust....your orthopaedic surgeon. You tell him what’s happening and barely whisper, “Is it Alzheimer’s?”


You aren’t prepared for the loud burst of laughter. You did not crack a joke...or did you, your brow crinkles as you try to go over what you said just in case....


“I’m serious doc,” you say a bit louder.


“Ma’am, you are still young for that, besides not many Indians are afflicted with the disease. Don’t worry no one dies of Alzheimer’s, the people who look after them die,” he ends with another burst of mirth.


Then he notices the look in your eyes. It is telling him you don’t find it funny. It is saying that the statistics for Indians with Alzheimer’s is questionable. Your eyes want to know at what age the first signs of the ailment are detectable. Yes, you want to know if you are a possible host for Mr Alzheimer.


“You are stressed. It’s nothing else, take a break, go for a holiday; meet more people” he says gently.


“You mean I’m not losing it?” you ask hopefully.


“No, not at all,” he says in his rich baritone, “you’re not losing it, it’s just that you are not using it.”


He had a point.

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Backing the backbone

When I first heard the word osteoporosis, I was sitting with my doctor and staring at my BMD and MRI scan reports. The films clipped onto a board on the wall lit up a picture which wasn’t too bright. My reluctant affair with a raging disease had begun and it was to be more than a bony affair. I knew how important my skeletal structure was, but now I learnt how bones could lose mass, and how just having a skeleton wasn’t going to keep you up; You had to feed it and care for it in the right way. Hollow structures didn’t hold up anything.


All of a sudden little gestures and movements that I had taken for granted became restricted. Those that weren’t had to be executed with utmost care. Nonetheless, I managed to rupture discs, or in the least cause a tear, which would put me in bed with excruciating pain in both my body and my mind. The ordinary task of walking became a feat; the rest and peace one hoped for through sleep was missing; pain had become a way of life for me and I learned to bear it with mental strength rather than stuff myself with pain-killers. My conversation was dotted with L1, L2,L3,L4,L5 and C2, C3, C4, C5 and bulging discs and my life was reduced to redundancy within the four walls of my home. It was harder for the mind to accept this than for the body to deal with it. As I said earlier, it was more than a bony affair, it became a lesson in fortification: of the spirit, of determination, of the will to overcome. What was hardest of all was the way people looked at me. I saw a whole gamut of emotions written on people’s faces from pity, dismissal, underestimation and impatience to the general disgust few people have for those with some form of disability. That is when I got the biggest lesson of my life. A strong spiritual backbone keeps us erect while we are bent in half physically. So it needs to be developed too.



Our spiritual backbone needs our attention . Just as we need to fortify our bones with the right nutrition and exercise, we have to feed on spiritual food too and constantly exercise our faith. Faith and prayer constitute the spiritual backbone.


There are many who are actually bent in half spiritually even as they stand erect physically.


I think many of us exercise and strengthen our wishbones more than our backbones. When I was a child I loved getting the chicken 'wishbone', which I would break with one of my siblings hoping I would get the wish! Well since then I too have had my share of wishing on a bone. Zoom to the present and I'm hanging on a wing and a prayer. I am glad that I had the gumption to refurbish and restore my faith thus building up a back-up for my weakening bony structure. All my battles whether related to health or any aspect of life, have been won through my mind and spirit; my spiritual backbone. Whether I lay in bed nursing a ruptured disc or hobbled along painfully, I always stood tall inside.


As Joyce loves to say, “We need backbones not wishbones.”


It's been over three years since that day in the doctor's room. There have been ups and downs but I'm glad to report that I am responding well to treatment and can walk and do quite a few things I wasn't able to do earlier. I understand I will never be able to do many things and that my condition is not totally curable. Medical interventions will aid me and reverse conditions a bit, but eventually the aging process will determine the final outcome. Each day is unpredictable. It could be great for days and then one small movement can go awry. Thank God for another backbone!

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From Tragedy Queen to Comedy Queen

An unexpected break on Saturday...I needed it badly...Needed the rest. Friday was an eventful day........I went from (nearly)tragedy queen to comedy queen! Well, an exaggeration really but stretching it makes it funny and also brings home the possibilities of reality!


To start at the beginning, here I was intent on making my lunch before I left for work....Rajma, chawal, aaloo-mattar sabzi (red kidney beans curry, rice and potato-green peas vegetable). The maid tells me "Aunty peeche hato," (she's mopping the kitchen floor) I step back with alacrity, to get done with the interruption fast, and I tumble over the bucket she has conveniently placed right behind me!! I lost balance and as I toppled backwards I grabbed frantically for something to break the fall. My mind totally taking in the seriousness of my backbone getting injured with a fall on my back...not to mention knees and wrists.... Thank God for the two sturdy wooden stands I've got against the wall. If it weren't for these I'd be on my back on the floor. Being solid and heavy they held my weight, broke my fall by giving me something to hold on to. And it was fortunate the girl was there, to hold me and get me back on my feet. I couldn't regain balance in the position I was, bent backwards grasping onto the stands with my arms outspread and behind, and my feet in an awkward position. But all's well that ends well. No damage done but it aggravated the already irking discs. It was a very tiring day at work and I did play around with the idea of taking an off the next day. Thankfully it became an official off for me.


All this drama delayed me and I was in a hurry to get into a cab that had come for me. I got in and only then noticed that the car and the driver were unknown and unfamiliar.I have been using the same taxi service for some years now and know most of their cabbies. Without thinking I asked the driver if he had come for flat number 101. He gave me an affirmative. I wasn't convinced and blundered on by asking him if Satish had sent him, another affirmative. By then my hand was on the door and I discovered that it wouldn't open even though it hadn't been locked. I brought it to his notice and he nonchalantly assured me that the door could only be opened from outside and he would open it for me when we reached our destination. Not a very happy situation. It had all the masala of a daily third-rate soap. I asked him to get out and check my door. He did and then conveyed to me that he didn't know about the fault earlier and he'd get it repaired later in the day. That's when he sensed what my issue was and reminded me that he was the new driver who had accompanied the known one a couple of days back, to learn the routes. Well that diffused the tension and I became a comedy queen! There's never a dull moment, is there! Just when you think life's too mundane it startles you with absolutely thankful and hilarious times.

I will have to explain briefly about my concern about the unfamiliar cab and driver. The city where I live has been recording many incidents of rape and murder committed by unscrupulous cabbies. As such women living alone as well as senior citizens alone or as a couple become soft targets. One needs to exercise caution. An earlier incident at the New delhi Railway Station has put me on my guard, but that's another story. Having said all this I must add it isn't as scary as it might sound but these incidents are no longer rare, so it's better to be safe than sorry...cautious but not paranoid!


Glossary

Aunty peeche hato......Aunty step back..(Depending on one's age the maids here address one as Aunty, Didi (sister))

Masala.....spice

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Cruising On The Global Superhighway

I've been away for quite some time and I missed the few people I interact with even though we only have intermittent communication. The fact that that we don't really know each other doesn't seem to matter. Over the distances we peek into each window or door that is kept ajar to welcome us...and voice our thoughts through our comments, left in a box. I don't know your voices, I don't know how you smile but I feel it in the words you leave for me to read.

Sometimes I try to put a voice to a face in the DP. I draw pictures in my mind as I read your accounts of your days! I could be way off the mark, but that's the magic of internet friendships. Unknown yet known. We're all real people on this global superhighway.

I've joined an educational organization, which is connected with Cambridge's ESOL exams in India. It's a temporary job so I am free to decide if I want to go to work on a particular day or not. However I find that I am eager to go daily. It gives me relief from the home alone situation that I have not got used to yet. And the income is always welcome! But it does leave me exhausted by the time I get back in the evening. So I haven't been a regular visitor here.

Yesterday I worked half the day, so found ample time to rest my weary bones and make it possible to drive around my 'blogway' today. I wonder if any one of you even noticed that I was gone? I like to think that you did...:))

Well, That's it for now...till the next, Ciao.

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PERCEPTIONS

“We don’t see people the way they are, we see them the way we are.” Great quote I said to myself. “Applies,” I added absent-mindedly, wondering if the vanishing distinction between obese and fat and ‘pleasantly plump,’ as I had started calling myself lately, was related to it in some way. I mean when I weighed fifteen kilos lighter I saw people as obese, fat and even tubs of lard (forgive me!) but definitely not ‘pleasantly plump.’ As I said it was just a half thought which hardly registered at the time. I filed it away under ‘Later’ and forgot about it.



But I suppose when you label something ‘Later’ it’s bound to come up sooner or later! One day a lady who knows me quite well, commented on my life with a sweeping statement that had more pessimism and defeat as a basis, than truth. She said, “Jis ki barbadi likhi hai, woh lakh koshish kare toh bhi kuch nahin hota. Sab kuch ujjadta rehta hai.” (If it is your fate to be destroyed, no matter how hard you try nothing will come of it. All your efforts will be in vain) In other words, what she was saying was that I was doomed to be a failure! That hit hard and I must have been gaping at her stupidly while I gathered my wits, because taking my blank stare for incomprehension, she began to elaborate. I twisted and turned as she wrung out my life underlining all my losses; my roller-coaster life, unsuccessful efforts, blah...blah...blah. What about the successes, the small victories...I wondered. Were they real or not? I figured out they weren’t to her. So I resigned myself to listen.



I listened to her theory in awe. According to her reckoning, I would not find success in anything and it would be a waste of time, effort and money (which I did not have much of anyway!) to try to fight fate. I was wondering which path to take; get into a useless discussion with her to defend myself or let her walk away happy that she had imparted some knowledge and sound advice to me. I opted for the latter, it was the easier way out. Besides, she had a right to her opinion. After all, she was viewing it the way she was. Ah! The quote was back.



I am sure she went away feeling very nice and fuzzy-wuzzy inside after passing that (dubiously) prophetic statement and commiserating with me. I felt relieved that in some way, that conversation had made her feel good and I got out of an unwanted discussion. She had a right to her opinion, especially, when she refused to see the brighter side I presented.



I realised at this point how we saw people not as they were but as we were. This lady is highly superstitious and uses superstition to justify any kind of failure or loss. She likes to be a martyr and is happy only when she imagines herself suffering. A chance “how are you?” will elicit a long list of ailments and problems she has to bear. Often I would tell her in jest, “Look at the doughnut, not at the hole.” So it would have been impossible for her to see the positives, she was too used to seeing the negatives. It was one of those contradictions where her happiness stemmed from her misery and I suppose the miseries in another’s life.



I was feeling quite light and enlightened by the co-relation I had discovered through our conversation and wondered if I would meet someone else with an equally strong perception and who would be equally eloquent about it. As it occurred I did. And unfortunately or fortunately I was once again the subject.



Another close acquaintance called me. I cannot recollect how or why the conversation took a turn to me being the subject, but she began praising me and telling me how much she admired my grit and perseverance. I was a bit embarrassed, and laughed it away in an effort to make small of my struggles. This did not throw her off the topic, on the contrary, it stoked her fervour further. So once again, I had to hear the same list of the known challenges I had faced and how I had done so well despite it all. What a change in perspective! Once again I realised the best way to end the discussion was to agree. I am sure she felt better that day having praised me and for having passed on some positive energy my side. I must admit I felt good about it.



I found I had agreed with two women who had entirely opposed views about me!



In retrospect, I am glad I had both those conversations. The attitudes and perceptions of both the women were a direct reflection of who they were. Both had the same information and knowledge of my circumstances but one saw me as a failure; a victim preordained by fate and the other as a fighter; a survivor, a victor.


Perceptions!



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Our Indian Christmas

I've finally finished taking down all the decorations and the Christmas tree! I took my time and worked at my own pace, unlike the frenzy almost a month back. I was desperately trying to pack forty-eight hours into my day. There were so many things that had to be done in preparation for Christmas. Cakes to be baked, gifts to be bought, traditional sweets and savouries to be prepared, decorations to be put up, furniture to be upholstered, carpet to be replaced, party to be planned...it was endless. Oh yes ! The salon, how could that be left out. The last thing I needed on Christmas was bad hair, dull skin and rough hands.


How I love Christmas. The whole world seems so beautiful and happy in its preparation to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Personally, I feel more charitable; more forgiving; able to overlook the meanness of people and truly meet it with joy and love. Whether you are a believer or not, nevertheless the spirit of Christmas embraces you with love and a feeling of caring and sharing.


The malls are decorated. Santa caps sell like hot cakes. People like to strut about with these red caps. The church is open throughout the day for people of other faiths, who come in a continuous stream to pray, despite the cold, even at midnight on Christmas Eve.


All of us 'busy' folk who don't find time to go to church throughout the year, can be seen in the front pews on Christmas in our Sunday Best.


" Seasonal Christians," whisper the hoity-toity regulars, and then don their church faces.


I smile and bow my head to thank God for making it possible for me to be in His House to share in the joy of His birth.


" I'm a seasonal churchgoer but a regular Christian," I whisper to my neighbour, who raises her eyebrows as we all rise to sing.


I've never been able to outgrow the excitement and pleasure of buying and receiving Christmas gifts. The hunt for the right gifts, the mental arithmetic as you try to adjust everything into your budget, the minor disappointments, the major delight in giving and receiving " just what I wanted " gifts.


An overflow of this feeling is also present in my culinary pursuits. The most arduous task is making salt meat. The entire process takes about ten-twelve days. And the beetroot wine takes longer. However this is a simpler preparation which only needs time to ferment. The successes and disasters in the kitchen, as the goodies get in and out of the oven and the fry pan, fill the home with laughter and much consoling too.


Decorating the house and tree is a family affair. As each one pitches in. At times it does run into mild differences of opinion, which are quickly resolved....That's the spirit of Christmas. The flower rangoli is designed and diyas placed at the entrance as well as a wreath on the door! Tea lights are put on the balcony wall. Candles of various shapes and sizes are a part of the decor. The ubiquitous star is hung from the ceiling in the balcony.


Finally when all the baubles, tinsel, lights, tree, bells and bows are in place and the cakes, sweets and savouries are done --- It's Christmas Eve and the refrain of 'Silent Night, Holy Night...' wafts through the house as we light all the candles and switch off the lights. The star hanging in the balcony is lit and it swings in the breeze casting dancing shadows on the walls. The wind-chimes pick soft notes. The carol is the only other sound as it plays softly...." All is calm, all is bright, Round yon Virgin mother and child.......Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace..."


A transformation takes place; Such peace descends on each one; A peace that passes all understanding.


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NOTE: Rangoli: An artistic design made on the floor with flower petals or dry coloured powder.

Diyas : Small earthen lamps.

Ring Out The Old, Ring In The New

Shivering, yes I was shivering inside of me. Partly from the cold which resulted from an unusually freezing winter for our part of the country, but it wasn't only the cold the wall clock told me as it merrily ticked in the New Year. I couldn’t understand it. I was experiencing a mixed bag of feelings as I hugged a few friends who had especially driven up to wish me, knowing that I would be all alone. My heart was like a huge jumble sale, there was every kind of feeling bunched up there...I just dug in a pulled out whatever I needed; a warm glow, a radiant face mask, just the right gestures or an appropriate answer...anything! So while I was aware of gratitude for a year of God’s grace, thoughtful friends, relatively good health, blessings showered on our family, I couldn’t be free of the lurking “something” that I couldn’t identify. Whichever way I tried to explain it, I wasn’t really putting my finger on a satisfactory explanation. Finally, I gave up and decided to just be.


At my keypad the next morning, I typed out: “What I want right now is a long itinerary of fabulous places to travel to – confirmed tickets (executive class) reservations complete at each destination in comfortable resorts/ hotels/ home-stays...whatever spells beauty, leisure, fun, goodness, fabulous! Money enough and more to not worry about how and where; a travel companion with loads of humour, travel experience, confidence, thoughtfulness, patience, gumption and no fiscal problems; a person of honour and excellent character...in short a fairy tale being!!!!”


Travel seemed to hit a key. Restlessness, I needed to move. I don’t seem to belong to any one place – I belong to all places. I think that’s the only way I can fit into this world and its peoples. Was there a gypsy ancestor? If there was, I haven’t heard of it! But if facts be faced I’ve been a gypsy since I was born in a hospital by the sea-side; numerous moves due to dad’s postings, hubby’s job transfers, single parent on the move with job and residence shifts, trying to make a go of it, and every effort to settle down going in vain. I am a gypsy and by no conscious design. That’s all in a light vein!


Seriously, it takes on the garb of transformation in a different, more interesting way in these lines by Elizabeth Gilbert in the novel Eat, Pray, Love:
“I find the Augusteum so reassuring, that this structure has had such an erratic career, yet always adjusted to the particular wildness of the times. To me the Augusteum is like a person who’s led a totally crazy life – who maybe started out as a housewife, then unexpectedly became a widow, then took up fan dancing to make money, ended up somehow as the first female dentist in outer space, and then tried her hand at national politics – yet who has managed to hold an intact sense of herself throughout every upheaval.”


I have not been chaotic. However chaotic circumstances and situations have brought about “changes that nobody, least of all I, had anticipated.” Time has been the gypsy moving through my life. And I still wouldn’t like to say: “Time you old gypsy man will you not stay? Put up your caravan just for one day...?”


It definitely is going to be a very fruitful, satisfying year!


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Cooking By The Stars

What's your sign? This is how the article starts.....Oh I must explain that I discovered a few old cooking magazines among my cook-books. This one is a 1998 edition of Canadian Living's Food.


I found the idea of cooking astrologically very interesting. No, and that's an emphatic negative, I do not subscribe to the stars to dictate my days, decisions or relationships. But this is so much fun, when you remove the 'belief' from it. They say, and I quote...


"You'll discover some intriguing insights into who likes to eat what, and even some surprises about your own idiosyncracies. Many people's culinary personalities are a perfect reflection of their Sun signs. If yours or your guest's isn't quite typical, it's likely because there's a stonger planetary influence somewhere in your charts. But in that case ( or if astrology isn't your cup of tea), just match up the personality traits with someone else you know - then dazzle them with their favourite dinner!"


"Would pasta please a Pisces?
Will a Virgo like your new wine glasses?
Can a Taurus and an Aries find happiness at the same table?
Is it safe to take a Scorpio to a restaurant?
Will you let a Gemini in your kitchen?"


See I told you it would be fun just to toy around with the subject! However the article doesn't go on to enlighten the reader about how and where to get the required know-how about reading the stars for culinary excellence and delights....well it's all in the stars and who has reached them! But they have been kind enough to show the way by giving each sign one selected dish according to their reading. I am listing the signs and the dishes and do let me know if your selected dish works for you. I will list the ingredients that go into each one and if you need the recipe will oblige accordingly..:)


Enjoy the read, and if the dishes do not fit your personality or taste I'm sure imagination of the dishes would titillate the palate.


Aquarius - Blueberry Honey Soda Bread
All purpose flour, wheat flour,baking powder, salt, baking soda, butter blue berries, eggs, butter milk, liquid honey


Pisces - Fishy Vichyssoise
Butter, chopped leeks (white parts only), chopped onion chicken stock, diced peeled potatoes, fish fillet (white fleshed), salt and pepper


Aries - Show-off Shrimp
Jumbo shrimp in shells, chilli powder, paprika, cumin, salt and cayenne pepper, vegetable oil, dipping sauces


Taurus - Garlic Roast LambLeg of lamb, cloves garlic slivered, olive oil, herbes de Provence,salt and pepper, dry red wine, beef stock, Vegetables: potatoes, onions and /or rutabaga peeled, olive oil, cloves garlic minced, herbs de Provence, salt and pepper


Gemini - Fast Pasta With Two Sauces
Green Pasta with White Clam sauce: butter, cloves garlic minced, minced onion, whipping cream, chopped fresh parsley, dry white wine, can(5oz) baby clams(undrained), pepper, hot cooked fettuccine, freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

White Pasta With Green Pesto Sauce: Butter, cloves garlic minced, pine nuts, finely chopped fresh basil, freshly grated Parmesan cheese, salt and pepper, hot cooked white fettuccine.


Cancer - Floating Islands On Lemon Cream
Egg white, cream of tartar, granulated sugar Lemon Cream: egg yolks, granulated sugar, corn starch, light cream, lemon juice and shreds of lemon rind


Leo - Tropical Fruit Flambe
butter, granulated sugar, golden rum, allspice, cognac, mango sorbet or ice cream Fruit: thickly sliced peeled mango, papaya, pineapple, orange or banana (or combination)


Virgo - Perfection Salad Plate
fresh tiny vegetables: snow peas, mini carrots, baby beets, green beans, skinny asparagus, baby white turnips, sliced celery, baby leeks(white parts) green onions and mushrooms(oriental or tiny button), leaf lettuce or fresh water cress (optional)
Hot Vinaigrette: white wine vinegar, lemon juice, salt, pepper, olive oil (preferably extra virgin) chopped fresh Italian parsley, chopped fresh tarragon( or any other herbs to taste)


Libra - Sabayon With Fresh Fruit
egg yolks, granulated sugar, dry marsala, champagne or orange juice, berries, grapes or sliced fruit


Scorpio - Swordfish Seviche With Peppers
swordfish fillets, lime juice, lemon juice, each small sweet green, yellow and red pepper, small hot pepper sliced, small red onion sliced, cloves garlic minced, chopped fresh coriander or parsley, packed brown sugar, olive oil, salt and pepper


Sagittarius - Souffle-ed Dessert Omlette
eggs separated, granulated sugar, fruit liquer, unsalted butter, sweetened berries or sliced fruit


Capricorn - Apple Almond Streusel Tarte
all purpose flour, granulated sugar, cold butter, egg yolk, cold water, FILLING: soft butter, granulated sugar, eggs, brandy or rum, ground almonds, all purpose flour, apples ( preferably Golden Delicious) STREUSEL: all purpose flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg, cold butter, sliced almonds


I am a Taurus, and for me the choice of garlic roast lamb works...I like garlic flavour.

I look back to accelerate forward

Some time back I wrote a story where one of my characters was travelling through life with his eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror. I had referred to it as a character flaw because the man looked back to dwell on the negative aspects and developed a cynical approach to life. However, there is another perspective on this. Looking back is not a flaw, if one reviews the past with a positive attitude, with the intention of making changes in the present where changes are required, altering attitudes where alteration is needed and learning from past experiences.


I’ve been driving with an eye on the rear-view mirror for a couple of days. My hindsight goes a long way back, not to my experiences but to History, to the Exodus out of Egypt! I dwell specifically on the length of the journey; a journey that should have taken only eleven days. So why did it take forty years? Something there connects to me and my experiences in Chile. The lesson is constructive and enlightening. I suppose any lesson that can get you out of the desert faster and happier in less than the forty years you take going around the same mountain has got to be a great one.


So how did an eleven day journey stretch to forty years? I will attempt to summarise the main points in a layperson’s terms. According to the account, as recorded in the Bible, the Israelites were an ungrateful, complaining lot. The moment a bit of problems or trouble arose, they’d begin the blame game and in-fighting and grumbling would ensue. They would not listen to the leaders nor comply with the rules. This resulted in a breakdown of system, order and law.


During the tedious journey it was apparent things would be hard. They were travelling through the wilderness and the climate would have been harsh and there would have been lack of basic necessities. And definitely, even depletion of resources. In all this they were so focussed on the problems that they became blind to the presence of God, who was constantly guiding them, providing for them and protecting them. For example at one point, they were without food and near starvation, at this time “manna” was provided from heaven. Initially they were happy with something to fill their bellies and sustain them. Then when the pangs of hunger were fulfilled and strength regained, they began to complain that Manna was a poor substitute for the food they were used to eating in Egypt. They even began to lament their short-sightedness in following Moses. They preferred to be slaves in Egypt than to bear the hardships of an eleven day journey.


Their attitude brought up delays in their movement and progress not only slowed down but it also came to a standstill at times. Thus what they couldn’t bear for eleven days they bore for forty years!! There are many examples of similar attitudes along the arduous journey. Without going into the philosophy and scriptural implications let me come back to the point that is related to the lessons I learned, along the way.


Going to Chile was a literal uprooting for me, from the place that had been my home for my entire life. It spelt the closing of a chapter in my life and the state of uncertainty in terms of the future. It also took me out of my comfort zone; Comfort of not only familiarity but also of creature comforts and the small luxuries I was used to. In a way it was a takeoff on the exodus from Egypt. It was my ‘lone departure’ to the unknown future. My sojourn would take me on a long route touching South Africa, Brazil and finally to Chile.


Not a frequent ‘lone’ traveller and with mobility problems, to say I was nervous would be an understatement. I took the flight with complete assistance, wheelchair et al, and honestly looking back today I will have to admit it was almost hassle-free and I got through all formalities aided by airline attendants. Yet when I had long waits for flights, sitting in a wheelchair cramped, tired and feeling a certain amount of discomfort and pain, I’d begin to moan and groan a bit to myself. Fortunately I had the “complain and remain” and “go around the mountain” quotes getting me back to a more appreciative attitude. I could hardly walk by the time I landed in Sao Paulo, but I was thankful that I could sit up and also shuffle down the aisle to my seat. What’s more, I actually thanked God that I could go to the toilet without assistance. Just the thought of it continues to keep me grateful.


Barely seven days in Vina Del Mar, Chile and the big earthquake rocked my world. The stress and fear and constant moving from one temporary accommodation to another took its toll. Not being an angel, I did at times regret the hasty decision to travel there. But hindsight and lessons imbibed from it helped me to keep looking at the silver-lining that has constantly girded the dark clouds filling me with hope and gratefulness. Such an attitude provided the ability to look for blessings in disguise, and a sojourn that should have spelled a disastrous pattern has turned out to be a lesson in itself.


If I had continued to grumble, moan and groan and pick at fate, God, man and blame all for my predicament, I wouldn’t have met the amazing people I got to meet, I wouldn’t have made lovely friends there either. The innate goodness of humans would not have manifested itself, and I would have remained ignorant of the goodwill, humaneness and the indomitable spirit of people that continued to survive, even during calamitous situations. The beauty of this picturesque city would have been lost on me and I would have marked it as “hell.” Time would have moved painfully slow. But now I have indelible memories of kindness, thoughtfulness, warmth and friendship to carry along with me. The most important point is that it has underlined my belief in God and his presence in and around me at all times.


Have you ever rocked yourself in a rocking-chair? Where does all that rocking take you? Nowhere! Focussing too much on the problems and difficulties of life is akin to sitting in a rocking chair. You stay stuck in one place no matter how hard you rock and go nowhere. Looking back should not be a “rocking-chair” moment. Hindsight should be used to find areas of change or improvement; a gleaning time for lessons. Such an attitude will see you walking ahead a wiser and more cheerful person. Why prolong misery by sticking with it?


My stay over there has given me deeper insights into my soul. I have discovered the various hues of my spirit that mark milestones in my growth as a person, and the three months I stayed there passed as a few days. Much can be accomplished with appreciation, gratitude and determination. One needs to keep moving onward and looking for those “Kodak” moments and “ha-ha” situations.


With due apologies and no offence meant to religious sentiments, I’m sure Biblical history would have recorded another story if the Israelites had known this.

Whispered Psalms and Tendrils of Hope

I’m alone once again. And once again I lose count of the days, the hours and the minutes…

They don’t matter any more.

Time is interminable.

My futile efforts to fill the void, send me foraying into a plethora of memories.

Rummaging through school days, college years

Adolescent joys and tears

They flash across the mental screen, I will them to stay….

Just a while, so I am not alone.

Vainly I try to hold a wave upon the sand, sadly I relinquish the moonbeam in my hand.

And it begins to rain.

The rhythm of the falling rain beats a haunting tattoo

That recalls vivid memories of other rainy days.

Evoking the sweetness followed by pain

That slowly gives way to a numbness.

I don’t want to feel

Happiness, sorrow, misery or pain.

I don’t want to remember….

Good days or bad days , grey days or wet days

I block out the past and stare out of the window.

Something stirs within.

I fight against myself…a losing battle this

For the dark skies and falling rain call out to me and I cannot resist.

I must yield. I can’t be immune to it.

The memories flood back like the overflowing drains……

Gurgling, rushing, uninterrupted

Washing away the dirt, dust and debris.

Leaving in its wake quiet , calm, peacefulness.

And I lay my head down exhausted.

Too tired from the roller-coaster ride of emotions……

The upswings and downswings.

Somewhere clouds clash streaking the skies, breaking the silence with its thunder.

The flood-gates open to the release…

And I drown in a deluge of tears.

Years of conditioning in convention and orthodoxy

Make me look for purpose and divine reason to every twist and turn in life.

The purpose is found, the reason justified

By theological philosophies I pretend to understand.

I try to be stoical in the face of it,

Wondering what else is expected of me.

The outer walls I build around me

Of hard cold reasoning and hollow sounding platitudes, harden and thicken while

Hidden inside the crumbling begins.

Broken and battered I cower inside the fortress

Suspicious and scared of every shadow,

Of which there are many

Some real , rest imagined.

And life goes on drawing hope from whispered Psalms…

Hope like a frail tendril clings to straws.

And I lift up my eyes and thank God

For things could have been worse, but for His grace.

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A letter.....

My Dear Beta,

How are you? Thought I'd do the old fashioned thing and write a letter....oh we call it mail these days...:) I think this quote says it better....“What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. You can't reread a phone call.” But then I am a sentimental fool and being from a past generation only compounds it...LOL

I've had quite a restless night and am feeling a bit drowsy this morning. Even my cup of nice, strong ginger tea couldn't raise me up. Guess a cold shower will fare better! I suppose too much of time on one's hands is not good for the mind.......I thought about that too, about the connection, and figured it out.....the hands dig up old memories and skeletons long buried...idle hands..:) Whacky eh..??


Hopefully, things will settle down and I will finally be on even keel. Too much has transpired too soon...back-to-back and it is telling on me...age I suppose is finally overtaking my mental capacity and strength....the fight seems to be dying down. Still the morning brings hope, it's the evenings and night that dash all hopes while I battle loneliness. It's a sunny day today, clear sky so I guess we get some respite from rain.


I enjoyed a rickshaw ride in a drizzle the other day. It was early morning and I had to draw cash for the maid's pay. Threatened by heavier showers I scurried to the ATM....but remembered too late that muddy puddles and speeding cars were also on the way !!!!!!! Pachaaak...pachaaak.........:(

Oh that's a rhyme....unintended poetry LOL


That's it for now. I've had my tea and shall read the paper.

Love...Mama


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Glossary

Beta........son

rickshaw........a three-wheeled cycle carrier. It has a cushioned seat behind the rickshaw driver which can comfortably seat two people. It is canopied and offers some protection from light showers.

pachaak.......a Hindi word to convey the sound of splashing water...

Life's a ring of funnies....

I was swept by a deluge of things to do...things not done yet....things I should have done earlier....things I shouldn't have done earlier...perhaps not at all....!


Setting up home all again and that too alone, can take the micky out of you. Here in India it involves co-ordinating with the Movers & Packers, internet service providers, phone connection, cable (TV) connection, police verification, running to the Residential Society Management offices of both places, the current one I'm living in and the new one I'll be shifting into, to get NOCs to move my luggage out of the old and into the new. Then I need to ask for permission to use the lift to cart the big stuff down fifteen floors and of course pay a fee for that!! There's nothing wrong in all this except that none of these people value time or efficiency. And that's when the tsunami strikes in waves over waves of irritation, stress and eventually anger.


Very carefully I orchestrated the entire process of getting required permissions, documents, intimating service providers, making payments only to find that the Movers & Packers who were to come at 8.00am haven't reached till 1.00pm...which is why I'm at my laptop! The service providers have been "doing their job" for the past two days in bits and drabs, and the phoneline, internet, TV cable are yet not installed. The electrician is too involved with selling his old mobike and buying a new one so can't see to replacing damaged fixtures.


I'm on the phone every ten minutes yelling at one or the other of these guys, and at times I get my connections all mixed up and find myself asking the plumber why the truck hasn't reached...or the Packers why the aqua-guard hasn't been installed...Finally I decided it would take more than sticks and stones to break their bones, resigned myself to a cup of ginger tea and pouring out my woes on my blog.


Why didn't I do that before I think...and go back to my list of.. Things I should have done...things I have to do.....Life's a ring of funnies!!

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Khaandaan Ka Paandaan...cont

Wedding Games

An Indian wedding is marked by its fanfare, colour, blaring music, brass band...a blend of the traditional and modern. That's how most Indian weddings are. And then when the rituals and rites are through you'd think its over, but there's another think coming up...there are wedding games to be played! Well, when I say 'games' I mean games.


I learned about these games when my elder son got married. A few of my friends from Rajasthan got the newly wed couple to play a few 'power games.' What was especially amusing about the activity was that the maximum wins decided who would wear the pants around the house! So it was obvious the bride would try her best to beat the groom.


I gathered that this was introduced to alleviate the anxiety the bride might be feeling. In India arranged marriages are usually the norm, so a girl doesn't really know the boy very well, much less the family. Besides an Indian girl doesn't just marry a boy, she marries the whole family too! It would certainly be tough for her to walk into a household of strangers who are now her family. But to come back to the games....


The first one was - searching for a ring in a thali (a big, deep, steel plate) of milky water. A ring is immersed with a lot of almond shells and rose petals. The couple have to search for it using just one hand.

The second one was - untying knots with one hand. A thick thread (dori) is tied around each one's wrist. Then the ends are knotted several times. The knots have to be untied using one hand. The winner is decided on who unties all and how quickly.


The third one was - find the cotton. Little balls of cotton are hidden on the person of the bride and groom. Hiding places could be their clothes, hair, behind the ears etc. The couple take turns locating these.


Since we don't have these games in our Christian wedding ceremonies, it was fun for us. Can't say about the couple, it was well into the wee hours of the morning and they had had a long day. Our wedding receptions are usually dinners that go on and on and on....weddings don't happen everyday, and thank God for that.


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Khaandaan Ka Paandaan....cont

"Looking for your face'......."Recognizing your face"......"Welcome."


That's my laptop's way of greeting me every time I switch it on. Makes me feel great. It's almost like a baby looking around for a face it knows, recognizing it and welcoming it with a smile of relief. Ever seen a baby do that...I remember how I used to feel when my babies did that, my heart used to melt.


And it makes me think. Don't we also look for a face; A special face in the crowd? At the railway station, airport, in a strange place, at weddings and parties, we look for a face in the crowd; and when we recognize one the welcome erupts in a million ways.


Waking, sleeping, dreaming...yes especially while in that sub-conscious to unconscious state, I look for faces. Faces from the past, faces from the present...faces that reassure me; that tell me "all is well." It doesn't matter from how far this assurance comes, from beyond the blue or from over the miles and seas and oceans, they comfort me. They are faces I seek, recognize and welcome into my world.


On the flip side there are a few times when my laptop, finds it hard to make a recognition. It asks me to face the camera. In other words I'm not in the ideal position. This makes me shift and turn, move forward and backward, in an effort to position myself just right. It applies to life too! We find a familiar face but fail to recognize it because the person has shifted or changed positions; grown, evolved. It becomes difficult for us to accept and welcome. At times like these I think the laptop provides the answer again!


Like your face is the stamp of recognition you carry all your life, in legal documents too, there are some values that define who you are at the core. If these change you become unrecognizable to some. It is the point where one can look within and decide if the changes and evolution are in the right direction. The laptop is like a parent or very special person in your life, no matter how much you might change, it still welcomes you if the most identifiable part of you remains the same.


The next obstacle my laptop faces in making a recognition is 'insufficient light.'
Someone is in darkeness here. It's either the laptop or it's me. So I begin to move into areas of light. When this doesn't work I realize it's not me but the laptop that's in insufficient light. So I reposition my little friend and voila...like a long-lost lover, friend, relative, baby...it finally recognizes and welcomes me.


So every time I'm 'welcomed' I realize I'm a face that has been sought and recognized in some capacity, in the other's life.


For now I'm glad my Della Baby, that's my laptop, has welcomed me!


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Mine Are Bigger.......

There was a time, so many years ago { it's so many years that starting with, "Once upon a time," would be appropriate} when having the best and being the best was extremely important to me. It didn’t matter who had what, I never compared myself to anyone. I believed I had the best of everything, and so it was. This expressed itself in many hilarious announcements of greatness...or more correctly, perceived and misplaced exaggeration. This phase lasted till I was ten. With the oncoming years, it took the form of quiet confidence and acceptance that I had a bundle of good, better, best and not so good, not better nor best. Life was so much better when I was six! I suppose age and related maturity, that at most times follows, played a major role, which is good but I miss the humor it used to produce. I mean I appreciate it now, in hindsight!


One day, when as usual, I couldn’t find something that actually sat right below my nose, my brother commented that I had potatoes instead of eyes. This would have gone down quietly if it hadn’t been for a conversation with Daddy about the Irish people and the spuds that formed a staple diet in their country. He also told me that the spuds they had were bigger than the potatoes we were used to. So how could I have simple potatoes for eyes? {I thought, indignantly}

Drawing myself up to the maximum my tiny stature would permit, I declared loud and clear:

“I don’t have potatoes I have spuds!”

This grand announcement sent everyone into a fit of laughter. It needs no saying that I thought they were dimwits and it would be useless to make them see, that I had bigger potatoes for eyes than they imagined.

There were quite a few similar instances, but I will skip that for now. Many, many years later my younger son out-did me with a whopper. He was a little genius at three, who couldn’t understand why he had to study Hindi when he was planning to marry an American who wouldn’t understand a word of the language. What made this rationale interesting was that he could barely speak English beyond a few words. As he moved up from pre-nursery and grade 1, 2, 3, he had many more questions about other subjects which he felt he was wasting time on. He loved sports, story-telling, drawing, sketching and such things, what I’m getting at is, grades meant nothing at all to him. As long as he passed each exam, percentages and rank were immaterial.

Alarmed by his nonchalance, my husband spoke to him about the importance of academics and why in our system rank and percentage played an important role in the examination results. He listened with rapt attention quite unusual for him. His report card lay open on the table, his rank 25/48.

He looked at his father seriously, another unusual thing and said seriously (very unusual indeed),

“Papa, I promise I will do better next time. I promise I will come 30th next time.”

You could tell where he got that from! Well, we laughed our guts out and this was the last serious conversation father and son had. However, in his defence, I must add that a couple of years later, when his papa promised him a bike if he came in the top ten ranks, he earned himself a swanky new bicycle by ranking in the top five.


Yeah, kids say the darnedest things. I’m glad I had my time of quipping!

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Notes of a santoor....

It's Sunday...one of those days I really have nothing much to do on the home front or the professional one, and that's not something I always want. It's better to have something on my list...so I find things to do.

This morning lost myself in the early hours of the day in lilting Pahari music, played on the santoor. Here on the fifteenth level, the breeze is cool and fresh in the mornings...closed my eyes and allowed myself to float.

Back to earth, I am looking forward to a chocolate and dessert session with a chef of a five star hotel. I was lucky to get an invitation!! It's going to be a long drive but it's worth it.

My new commitment has kept me from blogging for a while. I realise it wasn't the lack of time but the choice to devote whatever time I had to dwelling on that one thing to the exclusion of everything else.

I'll be back.

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Glossary:

Pahari music (raga, dhun).......classical music and folk that originated from the Northern hills...from Nepal, J&K, Himachal, Uttaranchal etc.

Santoor.....The santoor is an Indian stringed musical instrument. It is related to the Indian shata-tantri veena of earlier times and has strong resemblances with the Persian santur. It is a trapezoid-shaped hammered dulcimer often made of walnut, with seventy strings. The special-shaped mallets (mezrab) are lightweight and are held between the index and middle fingers. A typical santoor has two sets of bridges, providing a range of three octaves.

The santoor as used in Kashmiri classical music is played with a pair of curved mallets made of walnut wood and the resultant melodies are similar to the music of the harp, harpsichord, or piano. The sound chamber is also made of walnut wood and the bridges are made of local wood and painted dark like ebony. The strings are made of steel.(Wikipedia)