What a man!

It happens only in India - 8 :)

"Anyways, finally comes to me. Might as well save the transit time" :)

It happens only in India - 7 :)

Our passion is someone else's pain! Like we care? :)

It happens only in India - 6 :)

Trying to rear a vegetarian pet... No wonder, then! :)

It happens only in India - 5 :)

"Salaam sahab!" - Quintessentially Indian, that sentiment!

It happens only in India - 4 :)

Pardey mein rehene do, parda na uthaao! :)

It happens only in India - 3 :)

Hehhee, bhaichaara? :)

It happens only in India - 2 :)

We love our Gods, we never forget our daily poojas, but then we care for the chappals too :)

It happens only in India - 1 :)

We queue for so long, what else to do?

My take on The Edge of Reason - Helen Fielding

You could tell the character of the man by the kind of books he reads - quipped someone.

Now I have liked and loved a lot of books. Then there are some which leave a lasting impression. And funnily sometimes the book is NOT written to be thought provoking. One such instance - Bridget Jones Diary. When I read it over an year ago, I could totally totally relate to the singledom ideas elucidated in there. From Woophee, Hurray, I am single!!! to Oh, Why the hell am I still single. The embarrassing Indian marriage matches hunt did nothing to quell these feelings too. But then that was it. The book was funny. You could relate to the characters. It showed back all the mistakes you did. And the in-the-end-it’s-all-well feeling. Thereon, I just let it pass.

Now, back to the present times(Hehehe, interesting concept, that phrase, aint it?). Blissfully married for almost an year now. And a book fanatic forced to give up the wonderful wonderful collection :( Thanks to the baggage restrictions. I have NOTHING to read these days. Or more appropriately HAD nothing to read until a few days ago. Ok, let me change that to I had nothing of MY choice to read until a few days back.

The thing is - the house we are staying in right now was a bachelors pad. So some of the guys did not pick up after themselves while leaving. So, in effect it was was a virtual dumping ground. Apart from a few horrible things they left behind, (this being a family space, I guess I am better off NOT listing 'em) some books also were scattered around. Thankfully, they must have had the same problems with baggage restrictions. Now most of these were from authors I have no idea about. The titles did not seem interesting either. But I know myself. And I know how desperate I can get in the total absence of books(From reading the back of the milk can, butter cover, tin lids to couting the number of letters and vowels just to keep reading... Been there, done it all.). So I stashed them up in the room nevertheless. Some of them turned out interesting. Others, kept me alive during days of utter boredom.

But all that has changed now. I eventually got back to one of the most serious vows of my life - to spend 10% of my salary on books :) Well maybe not 10% now that I have a lot of stuff to do once I am home. Still I intend to buy at least one book each month. To keep my passion, hobby, interest and sense of books alive.

And guess what was the start of it all. Edge of Reason, the sequel to the Bridget Jones diary. Now Srilu had warned me - After the Diary this one will not be THAT interesting or funny. Thanks to her warning I started off with a low expectation level. And for once, the rarity in itself, I THROUGHLY disagree with her opinion. Maybe the book is not that funny. Yes, it’s not as rib tickling now that the protagonist has kissed singledom goodbye. But I have already made up my mind, I love the sequel better than the diary.

I mean, people may find it strange. But then there are certain elements and characters in the book that made me sit back and think - Whoa! Haven't I been there too? Haven't I done something like this before? Isn't it my kind of a reaction to trifles? Now I might be eternally confused but it’s rare to find me introspecting on what I, ARCHANA, can do wrong. The Leo within does work in its own independant ways. But this time, for once it was in slumber. To my credit, I did not wake it up either.

I mean, this whole book, purportedly written in jest, made such an impact on me, I would put it right on par with Richard Bach and Shantaram. Trust me, I would recommend it to everyone. You may like it like I did or you may find it no big deal. Just read it once. My own observations are on these lines:

Rebecca - Now here is one serious thought! How many Rebeccas have I had in my own life? Friends who pretended to be friends. All the time trying to pull me down. Making sure I never had a chance to deal with my pessimism. Always highlighting my nits, more than sufficiently highlighting them and then highlighting them again in public. These are the people who shamelessly approached me at all times. Every hour asking for opinions if they as much had to fart. What is the best way to do it? Why do I think that this particular thing was best done this particular way. People who took all possible help from me all the time. But never ever acknowledged THAT in public. People who made sure wherever I was, with whomsoever, they made sure they were there too. So that they could convince themselves that all those people thought of them highly. At least higher than what they thought of me. Now, I haven’t been blind to them. It’s not that I have not noticed them. It’s just that I kept my line of thought clear of them. Or so I thought. I did not think they were worth pondering over. Like Bridget, I would keep telling myself of the "spiritual bankruptcy" one faces by not learning to overlook. But seething within nevertheless. Today I realize the futility of it all. And I know now what I should have long long time ago. There are Rebeccas in everyone's lives. The idea is you realize that there are people who love you too much to take notice of them. Srilu, Pammi, my husband, Pravs - all of them and then some more. They have been around no matter what people said. No matter how much the Rebeccas of my life tried to make sure they were more important to these people than I am.

As to the ones with whom the Rebeccas succeeded - Well, I have nothing to say to them but this - You made your choice. I am sure you are happy there :) God bless you!

I know today I am far better a person now that all the weeds are out! Seriously, I owe at least a thanks to the Rebeccas of my life! I am really glad you won’t leave my life and get lost. I don’t need to keep cleaning up my emotional attics and closets. You are taking all the garbage from my life straight into yours. Ha-ha, I love you! More than I loved you when I thought you were my pals!

Shazz - Ah, it’s easier to fight Rebeccas. You know they are the enemy but what does one do when it’s all in friends. And when all that is done in good intent. Here I am to blame as well. I have also been a Shazz in so many lives. Prejudged or misjudged people in other's lives. Gave opinions unwarranted. And when all that my friends wanted was a shoulder to cry on, I painted the town black for them. Just because I wanted to make sure they are not hurt. And sometimes that's been done to me too. But then such is love. Sometimes with an intent to not hurt, we end up hurting people all the more.

And the observation by Mark Darcy was correct too. With a gang of girls, who are really good friends, there is always this risk. Of overanalyzing, dissecting each and every uttered nuance, of finding meanings where there are none, hitting the panic button for self and others when all is really well.

To all my friends I have to say this - As I was reading the book, the truth about the 3 girlfriends- Jude, Bridget and Shazz- hit me hard and really hard too. There are times when all you want to do is let the steam off by bitching about the people you love. Most of the times, I end up relating your story to mine and depressing you all the more. See, it’s inevitable that when you tell me the issues you face with people in your life, the ones who are really important, I should compare those issues with the ones I have in my life. Now your people and my people are different!!! The ones in your life are a lot better in some respects to mine and then my folks are darlings compared to your people in some other aspects. But I tend to forget that. it will be good for you if YOU do not. I may not be in your life 10 years from now. But they might still be around. We are all building life long bonds here. Do NOT ever think my judgment will be always correct. I KNOW I don’t need to give you this particular bit of warning but then never hurts to say. I am here ALWAYS if you want to bitch about things that are not perfect in your life as you are there for me. But these are the people whom we ultimately love - all said and done, these are our people. So yes, I maybe your best friend, your listening ear and I am always ready to hear, offer free advices to all you have to say. But remember one thing, in your relationships with other people, I AM an outsider. I don’t know the dynamics of your life, at least not ALL of it for sure. I don’t even know what all is critical for you and what all is not. You and only you do. Remember THAT!

Mark Darcy – Ah! Blush! If life has thorns, then it has flowers too. If there are Rebeccas and Daniel Cleavers, there are Mark Darcys too. Rather for each life, one Mark Darcy is enough. Your person, the person whom you love like you love no one else. The one who loves you no matter what you are, how you look, what you have said and done. ONE such person and you are blessed. Maybe everyone finds someone else like that eventually. But if it’s just a select few who get so lucky, then I guess my luck has been so good that it is obscene. I have my husband and then I have Srilu. Both of them have been so bloody good to me, I feel at times I could just jump off a cliff out of sheer happiness!!! I am so blessed... If there is a life for me beyond or rather without the two of them – I am thankful to God I am unaware of it. Muaaah, I love you both...

Well well well, a long time since have blogged and for this hiatus, I guess I have returned with an awfully long post. And a ridiculously mushy one at that.

But then that is how books are. You read some you are so depressed you just don’t wish to live any longer in the mean cold world. There are others, you read them and fall off the bed, chair, table, building, whatever, rolling in laughter. And then there are a precious few like The Edge of Reason. You read them, and you are thankful. Of being alive and literate enough to read books. Truly, they have such precious lessons to teach you.

Thanks Helen. For being a friend I have never known personally.

Ridiculous, or shall we say blessed!

Almost everyone who knows me, like really well, will vouch for my absent mindedness. And also for complete uselessness in crisis situations.

So why are we suddenly in this oh-I-am-such-a-stupid-dame mode? Because I am and I proved it yet again. What happened in my life/kitchen/marriage this morning could very well have ruined it all for once and forever.

So it goes something like this -

I was packing lunchbox for husby dearest and the gourmet that I am... I wanted him to have ghee-laden sambhar rice instead of the bland version. Pop open the ghee and alas! just a weeny bit of it stuck to the far recesses of the tin. Enough for his lunch, the ever sacrificial me thought. I had turned off the stove around 5 minutes ago and it was still warm. (In these countries, it is heater plates instead of LPG, so the stove typically stays warm for around 15-20 minutes AFTER you turn it off). So I merrily put in on top of it and instead of remembering to take it off in 2-3 minutes which is my wont, went OUT of kitchen and started checking on my TO-DO for the day! Yes yes, I know what kind of ridiculous idiot it makes me.

15 minutes later, I enter the kitchen and BY JOVE the tin is ON FIRE... Not those teeny weeny matchstick flames. I was more of those flames from the mouth of volcanoes. It threatened to eat off the kitchen.... I rushed out of the kitchen and banged on the bathroom doors for Husby's aid. (I told you I am quite useless in crisis situations. As far as my roles goes, I just create such instances and wring my hands in misery.) Husby to the rescue.

The guy came and took it off with his bare hands and threw the goddamned tin into the sink and poured water all over it. A sooty kitchen, a smoky hallway and wet floor. Add to it, all ten fingers of your loved one's burnt pretty sore.

What would happen after that is anyone's guess. I cried my heart out. Poor thing was unable to even hold the spoon for eating his cereal. Such a dimwit I am and he is paying the price of my high levels of IQ.

If what happened was bad enough, then really what we escaped for also nothing short of miraculous. If any of the remnant ghee had spilled over his fingers, the burns would have been far worse and far more serious. Had the fire not been put then, the woodwork just above the stove might have caught fire as well and the whole kitchen would have been in flames. Had I entered the kitchen 5 minutes too late, the smoke would have poisoned both of us in totality. Had this been India, the LPG would have burst in my face and God knows if we would be even alive to tell you this.

But in spite of knowing all this, I cant help but feel contrite. I forgot the FIRST lesson mom taught me while cooking - Never leave the kitchen with something left on the stove.

I forgot that and I paid a huge price for it. Sorry Husby...

Let go!

Blogging after a long hiatus - yes, the poem is mine. Just a different way of presenting it.

Lost!

Joblessness has ushered a new wave of laziness in me for sure. I am sitting idle at home all the time. Most of the waking hours in fact are in front of the PC. Having said that, the slow blogging is surely all the most not excusable.

Just a promise. Will post soon. Promise.

Orkut, the new Bible?

Jesus H Christ! What is the world coming to. This morning I woke up to the shocking news of double deaths of an Infoscion and his wife. Apparently the bloke suspected his wife of infidelity and in a fit of rage strangulated her and then hanged himself.

Gulp! Infy, Koramangala... All pieces of the puzzle seemed to be a part of life gone by. Had I ever passed this guy while I stayed for two years at the KEC? My heart went out for this guy, the anguish he must have felt over the supposed betrayal and the futility of it all.

The papers also pointed out very clearly that this was an intelligent guy. But immediately went on to add something about him being a "peeping tom" who used to hack desktop visions of his colleagues. Something stuck to me as odd! Here is a man who just died. And there comes a friend who is supposedly a "friend" of his and he gives such unflattering statements like that. What a cynical world. But then I brushed the feeling on.

In the afternoon, logged into ORKUT, I just typed his name on whim and sure he was there on the ORKUT. While his scrapbook filled with the RIP messages left me all the more melancholic, know what chilled me to the bone?!?! Word for word about the peeping tom was picked up from nowhere else but his testimonial. What a shame you journos?

Do you know what are testimonials? Do you know how they are written and in what sense? A man who joined Infy 9 years ago, must have been a genius geek to say the least. That, a man of that calibre could come up with such a tool is no big deal! Must you highlight that in wake of this terrible hour for him and his family. Shame on you...

As usual, you, the weird journos leave in hanging my head in shame.

New blog....

Heya there,

How is life treating you all? Being a housewife gives you a lot of time and responsibility in kitchen, aint it? :) To keep a record of all those memoirs and my experiments with veggies and spices, I have got a whole new blogspace.

Visit it at - http://archcooking.blogspot.com

Happy cooking!!!

The circle of life!!!

A kid is born and all rejoice
Listening to the cooing voice
And lying in crib he wonders
"Have I re-entered the circle of blunders

I have just left past life's bane
What was left, that I am here again?"
This realisation vanishes with passing days
And life entwines the soul into its maze

Kid watches the elder brother dash to school
While he's munching cereal with a bib like a fool
Then starts the schooling, an endless gruel
The boredom that schools start, colleges fuel

Heart pines for the independence to arrive
For that first job, does it badly thrive
Even then, life is a series of challenges and tasks
"When were you last at peace?", the inner voice asks

"Not now, I have a some work to do
Deadlines are many, days so few
I have to find my life mate still
So please keep quiet you will?!?"

The voice then retreats in a corner
The body treats the soul as a foreigner
And then the work is done, life mate is found
Noises are heard and inner voices drowned

Milestones after milestones are scaled
And the true purpose of life stays veiled
At the end, to the soul the body turns back
"Tell me now, what is it that I lack?"

"Your entire existence is fraught with strife
Where is it that you have lived in your life?
Show me a moment where you sought no goal
Tell me a day you spent looking at me, your soul?"

The body laments remembering all the faults
Throwing away buds of life to pick worthless salts
And now, withered age with callused hands
Its left alone to rut on merciless sands

How many more lives to waste still?
When does the aim of the soul fulfill?
When will be the body find itself in peace?
When shall the running after trifles ever cease?!?!

An ode to a bleeding heart!

A silent prayer for love since years
Has been answered with an ocean of tears
Love can neither be forever nor be pure
It can only hurt way beyond we can endure

Every time one hopes and tries to be glad
Love or the lack of it makes life look a fad
Not by designs, its mere destiny
That gloom is gargantuan, happiness so tiny

No one can ever truly tell
When the cup of sorrow will quell
It takes forever to light a smile
Even then, it stays for just a while

It bleeds the heart to live like this
Instead a drawn out death maybe a bliss
For whats the point in carrying on
When clouds of despair make life forlorn

But what if the death awaited is not an angel too
For how a happy end be to life where smiles were few
How can it all wrap up on a happy note
When the journey so far has been in a sinking boat!!!

Why?

Been reading "The notebook" by Nicholas Spark these days. A story celebrating the love of a much married couple, of a wife battling Alzheimer's and of her husband trying to save her from sinking into the ocean of obscurity. For the sake of love they shared. For the sake of togetherness they once enjoyed.

Makes me wonder. Why are real people in real life not like that? Happiness in life comes in either never or so late that one doesn't even enjoy it anymore. As one of my favorite songs goes:

Bin tere koi aas bhi naa rahi
Itne tarsey ke pyaas bhi naa rahi

Joys are joys when they come in at the right time. Too early, and we don't realise its worth. Too late, its a waste. Why is destiny so heartless? Why do the loving hearts bleed so much? Why is it that love is not truly love until it means nothing more? Why?

What is love?

Love is the wave of reassurance that washes off the qualms of battered souls. Love is the silent strength that keeps you going from the darkest hours of the night towards the promising dawn. Love is the silent strength which says even if I am mad at you I am WITH you. Love is when my presence means you need no one else. Love doesn't say "I am always with you." Love always stays with you. Love means loving unconditionally, unwaveringly and unabated. Love is not about holding hands when you are glad. Its about never letting go.

Let not past pest the today!

A cultured society is where we rear our kids with discipline and where we respect our elders wholeheartedly. So say the wise men.

If this is true then the modern world should be full of truants. We give our kids toy versions of guns and grenades to play with, teach them nursery rhymes that have their history rooted in wars, swear unmindful of their presence and attention.

But worse than that, they way we look at our elders is a shame. Does this generation hold nothing dear any longer. How mean and foul mouthed have we become?

Why are the mistakes you made in your career an offshoot of your dad's lack of awareness? Why is it a shame to be seen with your mom in public? Why are you taking forward the resentment your parents had towards their relatives to the next generation?

Huh!!! The first two questions are palpable. Whats with the uncles and aunts and cousins and all that Indian family tamasha? Why is that wrong? Takes you by surprise isn't it?

Funny but true - for the most of us, elders are just mom and dad. Why do we forget, sometimes so very conveniently, that our aunts uncles grandparents are our seniors too. That life has weathered them a lot more than it has worked on us.

If they have behaved in a certain manner, there might just be a reason for that as well. Walk in the other man's shoes before you take a dig at them. Even if there be nothing to dwell on, wasn't is bad enough already that an entire generation wasted their lifetimes building up resentments against their own kith and the kin. Must the GenNext also insist on carrying forward the legacy of hatred like nothing else matters?

Why do parents pass on their spitefulness and their bitter relationships with siblings and siblings in law to their kids? Life is not a bed of roses for anyone. We all need all the people we can ever meet and maybe then some more. Then why do we continue to pour lead into our hearts and lives? Is being good such a big deal. Is forgiving and forgetting so tough really?

To my yet to be born kids, I say this - Dear children, your mother has had a happy life. Yes, there were some sour moments. Yes, there were people who made living happily a pain. Much as you may love me, I plead with you; Do not be blind to my mistakes. Whenever I say someone hurt me, ask yourselves,"Was it really unwarranted?" And let me be candid. If you dig deep and through, you will find some instigation from my end too.

Feel sorry for me if you have to. Feel my hurt, if you cant help it. Heal my wounds, if you can. Learn the lessons from my mistakes, if you want to better your lives. But for my sake, please do not think, much less say, ill of the perpetrators.

Long after I am dead, as I watch over you from the skies above, please let मी be happy in knowing that of all the things I passed on to you as my legacy, bitterness towards mankind is not one of them.

Forgive people. Release them from your hatred. Rest all the accusations and resentments. My dears, I do not know what it does to those people. But for you my treasures, that will be the fastest way to heal!

Love of a language...

As Jim Hacker observes rightly in the series Yes Minister, language can be used both to make people understand your perspective and to shield it all the same.

But thinking deeply about it, to use language as so powerful joy is indeed a joy worth killing for. When one is able to express himself(hmm, OK lets not get labelled sexist here, or maybe herself), when people are able to throw people off guard with a play of words - Ah, life is fun...

But what a shame it is, when witty minds have to tone down their conversations and dumb down their wordplay to suit the mediocrity we see all around. Away from Infosys, away from T.I.M.E, I feel the void. The void of witty conversations, the emptiness resulting from staying away from books, blogs and banter.

Today as I picked up a tattered copy of Norman Lewis, Word power made easy, it was just another feeble attempt to ward off the huge crescendo of boredom that threatened to wash me over. But with each passing moment and each turning page, my interest piqued up.

Suddenly I knew what it is, I have been missing all this while in life. Now at around 7 in the night, as the life downstairs continues unabated and might I say unmindful of my absence, as the light starts failing, with mosquitoes gnawing me off all over, I am scribbling off to glory in my notebook. And guess what, I haven't been this glad in a long long time.

At this moment, I am reminded of a dialogue from the movie Iqbal mouthed by the great Naseeruddin Shah - Everyone is born with a purpose in life. Only a lucky few realise it. Of those the are yet again a wretched few who throw it off.

Phew, how close I got to be wretched!

Taare Zameen Par - A movie or a Mirror?

What a splendid way to usher in the New Year? Crouched on the couch snuggling upto Husby while catching up with the most awaited movie of the year - Taare Zameen Par.

Being an Aamir Khan venture, no doubt we expected it to be good. But after Rang De Basanti, how much better can Aamir get? On that note, I started on. But how wrong could one possibly get. With the exception of Mela and Mangal Pandey, the perfectionist has always reached new milestones and newer heights.

But this time he excelled way beyond. He did not appeal to the mere senses. Rather this time his movie stirs the soul from within. Taare Zameen Par is something far more than "just another Aamir flick". It is a mirror. And when the world sneaks a peek into it, it sees a very ugly picture. A world wherein the ones we punish are not criminals, they are not strangers, they are our kids.

The kids that came into this world as a symbol of the love we share with our spouses. The kids we pampered till they were of three years of age. Molly-coddled them, attended to them hand and foot, giving in to their every whim and fancy. Fulfilling their stated, implied and sometimes even imagined needs.

What changes after that? Do parents stop loving their kids any less once they are in the schools? No, it’s a mere insecurity on the part of the parent. Their desire to secure the kids future. As Aamir Khan says in the movie,

"It’s a cold world out there. And everyone wants to breed toppers and rankers in their homes so that they can combat the world".

But at what cost? Each one of us can’t be on the top. Someone of us doesn’t have the capable to be able to recite the mathematic tables ad verbatim. Is that a reason to stop loving the child? Is that a reason to keep on harping about how useless, lazy and good for nothing he or she is?

Kids do have a very strong inclination towards the "vocation" that is best suited to their minds. Some have a very strong sense of shapes and this they exhibit while playing with clay and that non-toxic dough. Some love their cricket sets, their musical instruments, and their paint brushes. Every one of the kids born cannot go into the IITs or the IIMs. And how boring lives would be if they did? Imagine India without PT Usha, MS Dhoni, Sania Mirza, Zakir Hussain, Abhishek Bachan, Aishwarya Rai. How many of the IITians and IIM grads are as famous as these? And how many of them really represent India or are able to represent Indian overseas as any of these people? If Sania's parents wanted to her to be a doctor, what would the state of Indian tennis. Lost in obscurity, isn’t it?

Yes, the Indian middle class cannot dream lofty dreams but then at the same time, if your kid is not cut out for academics, what can you do? More often than not, we treat our kids as manifestations of our unfulfilled ambitions.

"I always wanted to be a software engineer, but I had to become a doctor as my dad wanted me to. Now this is my turn, my son will be a software engineer. What if all he wants to do is go ahead and expand my clinic. That is not what I think I want to make him."

You never saw eye to eye with your dad as he made you do something you never found interesting. And now as a dad, you repeat the same mistakes. How sad is that?

My heart turned inside out when I heard these lyrics from the movie -

"Bheed Mein Yun Na Chodo Mujhe
Ghar Laut Ke Bhi Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Bhej Na Itna Door Mujkko Tu
Yaad Bhi Tujhko Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Kya Itna Bura Hoon Main Maa

Unse Main Yeh Kehta Nahin
Par Main Seham Jaata Hoon Maa
Chehre Pe Aana Deta Nahin
Dil Hi Dil Mein Ghabraata Hoon Maa
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Hai Naa Maa"

How heart wrenching? What kind of parents would want to harm the psyche of their kids in this manner? Answer: Almost everyone.

What makes the normally sane people behave in such an irrational manner while dealing with their kids? And how justified is it? We normally analyse the minute nuances of what are the hidden meanings in most of conversations we carry out - with our spouses, our managers, our friends, our crushes. Why don’t we try to understand our kids? A little bit of affection, a little bit of care. Is that too much to ask for? These are the questions the parents need to ask their kids and themselves and most importantly to the kid INSIDE them which refuse to listen to the most obvious telltale signs.

This movie asks the parents to grow up before they expect the kids to. And in reality that is what the parents need to do. GROW UP. Ending the post with my favorite dialogue from the movie -

“If all you want to do with your kids is to make them run races, then breed race horses damn it. Why give birth to kids?"