I had been planning to blow up A's money on shoes and sandals (for me of course). So, after planning for a full week about what footwear to buy and all, I suddenly have a change of mind, right when we were standing in front of the shop. Strange things, a Sunday evening can do.
I salvaged whatever little of the Sunday that was left with a wonderful dinner. We had arhar ki daal (udid in Marathi), beet-koshimbir and roasted french beans.
Btw, I have started reading this fascinating book, Swami Vivekananda-the living Vedanta by Chaturvedi Badrinath. People who admire Swami will find wonderful little gems about him and will start looking at the work he did in a different light. For people who havent read much about this Patriot Saint, this is a good place to start.I can already imagine how my mother will love to read this book. My mom is an ardent fan of Swami Vivekananda, so much that she would often threaten us (when we did not behave) that she would leave us for Kanyakumari and join the Mutt. :)
Monday, December 10, 2007
December
December scares me, very much like the performance appraisal.
December is melancholy.
December reminds me of an old man in flowing robes and a white beard.
December is a pile of pending work to be completed before the new year.
December means a whole year has passed by and you try to remember where did the other 11 months go.
But December is also a long Xmas-New Year "happy holidays" week.
December is a dear cousin's birthday.
December is the lovely time of blue-skies here.
December is also the season of dinkache-ladoo.
The last thing is reason enough to love the 12th month. :)
December is melancholy.
December reminds me of an old man in flowing robes and a white beard.
December is a pile of pending work to be completed before the new year.
December means a whole year has passed by and you try to remember where did the other 11 months go.
But December is also a long Xmas-New Year "happy holidays" week.
December is a dear cousin's birthday.
December is the lovely time of blue-skies here.
December is also the season of dinkache-ladoo.
The last thing is reason enough to love the 12th month. :)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
In memorium
I remember you as a tiny baby dressed in a powder blue frock on your first Diwali.
Then I remember you as an extremely naughty school girl who played all kinds of pranks and took great interest in cooking.
The last I saw you was when you were in 6th standard, I guess.
Somehow things turned really terrible for you, your parents separated after years of hostility, you faced abuse. You had to leave school to support yourself. You lost your childhood.
Over the years, we just forgot all about you. Until few years ago, when I heard that you had married somebody. I had sincerely prayed for your happiness. I was very sure that God will bless you with everything that you had missed out on. Love, laughter, a carefree life and above all a wonderful family.
Alas, it was not to be. I could not believe my ears when I heard that you were no more...My stomach was in knots. The memories I had came rushing by. I wept. I wept with guilt and shame. I wept for the lost life, the lost opportunity to hold your hand and help you live a better life. The lost opportunity to tell you that you were loved.
Dear Sh., if only I could tell you how much I regret not finding out what happened to you...not being there when you would have wept alone. Your parents shirked their responsibility, and we, your blood relations failed you too.
Rest in peace little sister and forgive us if you can.
Then I remember you as an extremely naughty school girl who played all kinds of pranks and took great interest in cooking.
The last I saw you was when you were in 6th standard, I guess.
Somehow things turned really terrible for you, your parents separated after years of hostility, you faced abuse. You had to leave school to support yourself. You lost your childhood.
Over the years, we just forgot all about you. Until few years ago, when I heard that you had married somebody. I had sincerely prayed for your happiness. I was very sure that God will bless you with everything that you had missed out on. Love, laughter, a carefree life and above all a wonderful family.
Alas, it was not to be. I could not believe my ears when I heard that you were no more...My stomach was in knots. The memories I had came rushing by. I wept. I wept with guilt and shame. I wept for the lost life, the lost opportunity to hold your hand and help you live a better life. The lost opportunity to tell you that you were loved.
Dear Sh., if only I could tell you how much I regret not finding out what happened to you...not being there when you would have wept alone. Your parents shirked their responsibility, and we, your blood relations failed you too.
Rest in peace little sister and forgive us if you can.
Monday, October 29, 2007
No-context-at-all. No relevance either!
I checked my eyes after almost two years and needed to change my glasses. As always I am very bad at making up my mind. This gave the optometrist and the opthalmologist and me a lot of heart-burn. I ended up making 3 trips to these people and spending a fortune on a pair of glasses which I wore for just 6 days.I would have sulked about it for longer time if not for the doctor...because in this whole exercise I met this doctor who is just as good as a doctor should be! Very calm, Dr. B exudes warmth and confidence that puts the patient at ease. I hope I dont need to visit him with any problems (not till the next two years!), I am recommending him to all my friends and family in Hyderabad. Talk abut word-of-mouth publicity.
People! If you havent tried roasting/searing veggies on a girdle or in a microwave, please go ahead. Carrots, beans, onions, garlic, cauliflower, capsicum, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, potatoes and any whichever vegetable you can think of tastes divinely sweet in this avtaar. Yup, I am reading a lot of food blogs!
Finally, I succeeded in completing the Rubik's Cube...all sides. A's an expert at that and does it in 1-1.5 minutes. I spent an entire morning yesterday and when I was done, I couldnt believe I did it! All these years I could just complete one side. A couple of weeks before his travel, A spent a lot of time teaching me the basic steps. With loads of patience. I told you he's a gem!
People! If you havent tried roasting/searing veggies on a girdle or in a microwave, please go ahead. Carrots, beans, onions, garlic, cauliflower, capsicum, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, potatoes and any whichever vegetable you can think of tastes divinely sweet in this avtaar. Yup, I am reading a lot of food blogs!
Finally, I succeeded in completing the Rubik's Cube...all sides. A's an expert at that and does it in 1-1.5 minutes. I spent an entire morning yesterday and when I was done, I couldnt believe I did it! All these years I could just complete one side. A couple of weeks before his travel, A spent a lot of time teaching me the basic steps. With loads of patience. I told you he's a gem!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Some things never change.
Like Chitale's bakharwadi. Thank God for that! Yesterday when a friend from his trip home got me a fistful of yummy bakharwadis, I could have slipped on my drool! :D And they tasted just the same, as I have tasted over the years.
A very happy birthday!
To my beloved sister, the baby of our family, K3. You amazed me years ago with your first word-my name.You still amaze us all with your child-like innocence.
Many many happy returns of the day! May God bless you with "bestest" of the best.
Many many happy returns of the day! May God bless you with "bestest" of the best.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Shyam piyaa mori...rang de chunariya...
Jal se patla kaun hai?
Kaun bhoomi se bhaari?
Kaun agan se tej hai?
Kaun kaajal se kaari?
Jal se patla gyaan hai,
Paap bhoomi se bhaari.
Krodh agan se tej hai,
Kalank kaajal se kaari.
(I have been playing and replaying this song in my head since yesterday morning and everytime I wonder...how true!)
Kaun bhoomi se bhaari?
Kaun agan se tej hai?
Kaun kaajal se kaari?
Jal se patla gyaan hai,
Paap bhoomi se bhaari.
Krodh agan se tej hai,
Kalank kaajal se kaari.
(I have been playing and replaying this song in my head since yesterday morning and everytime I wonder...how true!)
Monday, October 15, 2007
Apologies!
To my dear friends C and P. For promising to watch a movie (LCMD), for being there one hour before the show time and then chickening out at the last minute because it was too crowded. I am so sorry friends...since you know me and my love for melodramatic movies, I hope you will forgive this one-offish incident. Even I dont know I was capable of such unpredictable behaviour.
C, please keep that trip to Q-Mart on.
P, now instead of you treating me for your latest possession, let me treat you sometime please.
C, please keep that trip to Q-Mart on.
P, now instead of you treating me for your latest possession, let me treat you sometime please.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Friday afternoon -don't feel like working-so the post
I dont know if anybody will ever read this post after reading the title. I really wanted a crisp title but I have already spent the entire day's worth of creativity while cooking this morning. Yeah, a week of cooking, with limited culinary capabilities can leave you exhausted. Our cook awaits a red-carpet welcome when she comes after a fortnight tomorrow.
In the last couple of months I havent blogged as much as i wanted to. With so much bloggable material vrooming in my head, some really funny, some quite poignant, it's a pity indeed that I didnt blog. Pity because the stories no longer hold any appeal.
Now when I look back I wonder why I didnt feel like blogging? I guess it's (or was) a phase. I like what a friend said, "lot of cobwebs" to clean explaining his sporadic blogging. :)
Talking about me, I am completely dazed at the speed with which time has passed till now and how I havent done even 1/10th of what I want to do. I in fact need to clear my thoughts about what I want to do. I hope you understand that my situation is exactly similar to a developer who is coding without the functional or technical specs. ( Borrowed this from A who uses this analogy quite often.) So blogging seemed like a waste of time. But I wasnt doing anything else when I was not blogging (except reading other blogs). So while I am deciding what I should do, blogging doesnt look that bad an idea.
I dont know if I have mentioned this, but now my office cube is just next to the window. I get to see the sky stretched above, with no structure to obstruct my view. And if I am lucky I even get to see a tiny black bird sitting on the window pane. I havent lost my mind, it's just the concrete jungle that has robbed us of such simple joys. Hmm...I so suck at philosophy.
In the last couple of months I havent blogged as much as i wanted to. With so much bloggable material vrooming in my head, some really funny, some quite poignant, it's a pity indeed that I didnt blog. Pity because the stories no longer hold any appeal.
Now when I look back I wonder why I didnt feel like blogging? I guess it's (or was) a phase. I like what a friend said, "lot of cobwebs" to clean explaining his sporadic blogging. :)
Talking about me, I am completely dazed at the speed with which time has passed till now and how I havent done even 1/10th of what I want to do. I in fact need to clear my thoughts about what I want to do. I hope you understand that my situation is exactly similar to a developer who is coding without the functional or technical specs. ( Borrowed this from A who uses this analogy quite often.) So blogging seemed like a waste of time. But I wasnt doing anything else when I was not blogging (except reading other blogs). So while I am deciding what I should do, blogging doesnt look that bad an idea.
I dont know if I have mentioned this, but now my office cube is just next to the window. I get to see the sky stretched above, with no structure to obstruct my view. And if I am lucky I even get to see a tiny black bird sitting on the window pane. I havent lost my mind, it's just the concrete jungle that has robbed us of such simple joys. Hmm...I so suck at philosophy.
Absolute junk!
A bag of Lays and a pack of Good-day biscuits. In just 10 minutes. Just 2 hours post lunch time.
I think I am getting addicted to junk food. I cant stop myself from reaching out that one lame wafer sticking to the pack! God! I need help.
On the same note, I think I am watching a lot of TV these days. Thanks to Tata Sky, but no thanks! It was painfully evident last night when I could not watch TV for some reason and I was happy to just hear the TV in the background!
I think I am getting addicted to junk food. I cant stop myself from reaching out that one lame wafer sticking to the pack! God! I need help.
On the same note, I think I am watching a lot of TV these days. Thanks to Tata Sky, but no thanks! It was painfully evident last night when I could not watch TV for some reason and I was happy to just hear the TV in the background!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Strings-Loud and Live
I had never been to a concert where the crowd is swaying wildly to the music and you find yourself singing to every song you had not bothered to hum before. A and I had been to Strings’ concert last weekend and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. It would be fun if we get to do this more often.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Weekend, Rains, not again.
Last few weeks have been extremely tense and anxious for us Hyderabadis (just a generic term used for everyone who is living in Hyderabad, no regionalism/groupism please).
Initially it was the snarling traffic that worried us. Because of the numerous flyover constructions, road widening and other government department (water board, telephone office or some other) work going on, there was hardly any place for commuters. Going to office and going home in the evenings was a hair-raising experience. This was the story about the main roads and major business areas in the city, can’t imagine how the situation would be in the far-flung areas. Then with the heavy rains, it became extremely difficult to walk/drive on whatever little was left of the road.
I very clearly remember one Saturday evening last month when I was returning home. It had rained heavily. I was walking on a partially dug-up road, very close to a busy shopping mall. In spite of all that commercial activity buzzing in the vicinity, the road was dark, there were no street lights, there were rain water puddles everywhere and the four wheelers and motorbikes which zoomed past made sure that the poor pedestrians didn’t get home dry. And to top it, none of the autos were ready to go where I wanted to and they were rude! Because it was short distance, the pay-by-meter didn’t appeal them. So there I was, feeling miserable, angry and irritated with the state of affairs, not just in Hyderabad, but in India as a whole. Worse was yet to come.
When I reached home and switched on the TV, we heard about the blasts that had hit the city. The two places where the cowards had hit were such popular places that visiting them was more like a habit to people in Hyderabad. We, for example, had been to Gokul chaat and the laser show at least half a dozen times. The incident left us all numb. The newspapers and the TV channels urged people to stay away from crowded places and be alert to anything unusual, to stay safe. Okay, safe from what, who, for how long and where’s there to hide?
And then within a fortnight, Hyderabad plunged into mourning again. Again on a rainy weekend. This time we are mourning the loss of life and innocence at the hands of corrupt, power-hungry politicians and the equally culprit profit- hungry construction companies. The world saw an under-construction flyover collapse along with iron scaffolding crushing the people under its weight; Hyderabad is seeing everyone involved, the people in position of authority, shamelessly point fingers to the other over the mangled bodies and debris.
India shining, isn’t it?
PS: Sorry, I just could not bring myself to write optimistic. When I deeply feel that as a people we deserve much better deal, my conscience asks if we are doing anything to better things, if we have learnt anything from the mistakes we have done so far, or at least if we have helped our people in the hour of need. Then this is probably what we deserve for our apathy and indifference, insensitivity and sloth, I sadly conclude.
Initially it was the snarling traffic that worried us. Because of the numerous flyover constructions, road widening and other government department (water board, telephone office or some other) work going on, there was hardly any place for commuters. Going to office and going home in the evenings was a hair-raising experience. This was the story about the main roads and major business areas in the city, can’t imagine how the situation would be in the far-flung areas. Then with the heavy rains, it became extremely difficult to walk/drive on whatever little was left of the road.
I very clearly remember one Saturday evening last month when I was returning home. It had rained heavily. I was walking on a partially dug-up road, very close to a busy shopping mall. In spite of all that commercial activity buzzing in the vicinity, the road was dark, there were no street lights, there were rain water puddles everywhere and the four wheelers and motorbikes which zoomed past made sure that the poor pedestrians didn’t get home dry. And to top it, none of the autos were ready to go where I wanted to and they were rude! Because it was short distance, the pay-by-meter didn’t appeal them. So there I was, feeling miserable, angry and irritated with the state of affairs, not just in Hyderabad, but in India as a whole. Worse was yet to come.
When I reached home and switched on the TV, we heard about the blasts that had hit the city. The two places where the cowards had hit were such popular places that visiting them was more like a habit to people in Hyderabad. We, for example, had been to Gokul chaat and the laser show at least half a dozen times. The incident left us all numb. The newspapers and the TV channels urged people to stay away from crowded places and be alert to anything unusual, to stay safe. Okay, safe from what, who, for how long and where’s there to hide?
And then within a fortnight, Hyderabad plunged into mourning again. Again on a rainy weekend. This time we are mourning the loss of life and innocence at the hands of corrupt, power-hungry politicians and the equally culprit profit- hungry construction companies. The world saw an under-construction flyover collapse along with iron scaffolding crushing the people under its weight; Hyderabad is seeing everyone involved, the people in position of authority, shamelessly point fingers to the other over the mangled bodies and debris.
India shining, isn’t it?
PS: Sorry, I just could not bring myself to write optimistic. When I deeply feel that as a people we deserve much better deal, my conscience asks if we are doing anything to better things, if we have learnt anything from the mistakes we have done so far, or at least if we have helped our people in the hour of need. Then this is probably what we deserve for our apathy and indifference, insensitivity and sloth, I sadly conclude.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Happy birthday “I Me Myself!”
I always loved writing and had fair amount of opportunity to write essays, stories and articles for our school magazine.
When I decided to blog I had great ambitions about making my posts sharp, witty, hilariously funny, intelligent (at the same time!) and sometimes romantic too just like some of my blogger friends write. I don’t know why but sometimes I just no longer think realistically. When I actually started to blog my posts did not even come close to my friends’ blogs which I so admire. So in the hope of improving my writing style I decided to go ahead. Now, there’s no marked improvement, probably because I don’t blog that often.
Must say blogging allowed me to vent all my emotions (most of them) and by the end of it I would be a much calmer and saner self. This is a boon to A and other people around me.
It would be great to see my friends to end their blogger-exile. Anybody listening?
When I decided to blog I had great ambitions about making my posts sharp, witty, hilariously funny, intelligent (at the same time!) and sometimes romantic too just like some of my blogger friends write. I don’t know why but sometimes I just no longer think realistically. When I actually started to blog my posts did not even come close to my friends’ blogs which I so admire. So in the hope of improving my writing style I decided to go ahead. Now, there’s no marked improvement, probably because I don’t blog that often.
Must say blogging allowed me to vent all my emotions (most of them) and by the end of it I would be a much calmer and saner self. This is a boon to A and other people around me.
It would be great to see my friends to end their blogger-exile. Anybody listening?
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Come September
I am a little disappointed with my blogging frequency. The blog is approaching its 2nd birthday in a couple of days (yuhoo!) and I had thought of achieving the milestone with at least 50 posts. Yeah, I know 50 sounds such a pathetically small number given that it’s been 2 years. Come to think of it I have been writing a quite respectable 2 posts every month.
Last 4 weeks or more I have been down every weekend with something or the other. It started in July when I missed a Marathi play I was so looking forward to due to a bad stomach condition. That nasty thing took away my precious leaves at office, I had to cancel my Pune trip, I could not celebrate my exam results and all the shopping that I had planned to do. When the stomach realized that I have completely given up on it, it kindly came back in shape. But before I had planned on the things I should binge on after a month of semi-solid food, there was cold. Aarrrgh! Then my hand, then my wisdom tooth and still my wisdom tooth. God! The rant doesn’t help my condition but nevertheless.
Apart from my blog, my stay at my current employer turns 2 too which really surprises me. I had no great expectations when I joined this place and looking back I am pleasantly amazed at all the learning, the great friends and the wonderful time I have enjoyed here. No! My managers don’t read my blog. :D
Last 4 weeks or more I have been down every weekend with something or the other. It started in July when I missed a Marathi play I was so looking forward to due to a bad stomach condition. That nasty thing took away my precious leaves at office, I had to cancel my Pune trip, I could not celebrate my exam results and all the shopping that I had planned to do. When the stomach realized that I have completely given up on it, it kindly came back in shape. But before I had planned on the things I should binge on after a month of semi-solid food, there was cold. Aarrrgh! Then my hand, then my wisdom tooth and still my wisdom tooth. God! The rant doesn’t help my condition but nevertheless.
Apart from my blog, my stay at my current employer turns 2 too which really surprises me. I had no great expectations when I joined this place and looking back I am pleasantly amazed at all the learning, the great friends and the wonderful time I have enjoyed here. No! My managers don’t read my blog. :D
Thursday, August 02, 2007
The first exam I remember writing
was my Ist standard maths paper. I had hurried out of my exam room thinking that the one who finishes the paper first comes first and was forced back to my seat.
Then I remember my engineering exams which always seemed to happen when we still had loads of portion to cover. The tension during the exam season used to reach new heights with all weird rumours thrown around. Whenever I smell freshly photocopied papers (especially those cheap 25 ps/ a piece photocopies) I remember those exam days. Well, I dont know what I mean by that!
Because I used to be a bundle of nerves during exams and become extremely superstitious about every single thing. I used to wear the same pair of jeans for all the papers (if Mom allowed me to do that), never took books to read till the last minute and never discussed the paper after the exam.
Well, my MBA exams were a different matter all together. They used to happen so frequently and leave such a huge, irreversible impact that they never enjoyed that "revered" exam status. The exam just reduced to being some painful experience before we got to sleep a full night sleep.
After a gap of 3 years after my official last exam where I promised myself that I will never go thru this hell again I strangely started missing exams. I thought that I was missing the thrill of writing exams, the fun of studying, the strange feeling in the stomach you feel checking the calendar, etc, etc. I mean the whole exam-package. And so many people I knew were taking some certification or the other. So I did what I thought was the most reasonable thing to do. I registered myself to write an exam which tested my patience, my ability to sit and study and above all my determination to write the exam. There was quite an uncertainty about the exam taking place in India. So much so that for the first time in my life I prayed that let the exams happen instead of my usual prayers of let me pass please! The exam left me exhausted, drained out and poorer by an obscene amount. My neck, shoulder and right hand ached till they got numb. The opportunity cost has also been huge in terms of the shopping that was not done, the TV that was not watched, the gossiping with friends that didn’t happen and I go on like this forever.
But my friends! If there's one reason I would recommend you to go through the torture of writing an exam, then it is to experience the sheer relief at the end of it. The feeling is that of absolute bliss and light-headedness. Of course this lasts for a very short while before you start remembering the blunders you had committed on the paper. Ouch!
Please dont ask me which exam I wrote and when the results will be out. For obvious reasons of course! :)
Useless PS: I had written this post in June, just after I returned from the exams...but the superstitious that I am I decided I wont blog about the exam till the results were out. Yes!! I passed!!!
Then I remember my engineering exams which always seemed to happen when we still had loads of portion to cover. The tension during the exam season used to reach new heights with all weird rumours thrown around. Whenever I smell freshly photocopied papers (especially those cheap 25 ps/ a piece photocopies) I remember those exam days. Well, I dont know what I mean by that!
Because I used to be a bundle of nerves during exams and become extremely superstitious about every single thing. I used to wear the same pair of jeans for all the papers (if Mom allowed me to do that), never took books to read till the last minute and never discussed the paper after the exam.
Well, my MBA exams were a different matter all together. They used to happen so frequently and leave such a huge, irreversible impact that they never enjoyed that "revered" exam status. The exam just reduced to being some painful experience before we got to sleep a full night sleep.
After a gap of 3 years after my official last exam where I promised myself that I will never go thru this hell again I strangely started missing exams. I thought that I was missing the thrill of writing exams, the fun of studying, the strange feeling in the stomach you feel checking the calendar, etc, etc. I mean the whole exam-package. And so many people I knew were taking some certification or the other. So I did what I thought was the most reasonable thing to do. I registered myself to write an exam which tested my patience, my ability to sit and study and above all my determination to write the exam. There was quite an uncertainty about the exam taking place in India. So much so that for the first time in my life I prayed that let the exams happen instead of my usual prayers of let me pass please! The exam left me exhausted, drained out and poorer by an obscene amount. My neck, shoulder and right hand ached till they got numb. The opportunity cost has also been huge in terms of the shopping that was not done, the TV that was not watched, the gossiping with friends that didn’t happen and I go on like this forever.
But my friends! If there's one reason I would recommend you to go through the torture of writing an exam, then it is to experience the sheer relief at the end of it. The feeling is that of absolute bliss and light-headedness. Of course this lasts for a very short while before you start remembering the blunders you had committed on the paper. Ouch!
Please dont ask me which exam I wrote and when the results will be out. For obvious reasons of course! :)
Useless PS: I had written this post in June, just after I returned from the exams...but the superstitious that I am I decided I wont blog about the exam till the results were out. Yes!! I passed!!!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
I love the month of June!
You shall realize soon that the title of the post has absolutely nothing to do with the post. But I love June!
I had a lot of things planned for the weekend. The first one was to visit the orthopedic.
For the last few months my right hand has shown signs of rebellion. There was a mild pain in the forearm, the fingers were stiff and the when I rotated my wrist there was this “kut kut” sound. Yeah, I had blogged about this last year too! So I found myself flexing my arm, constantly pressing my forearm and subjecting my colleagues to Moov spray abuse. After a lot of procrastination and lot more googling on my symptoms we decided to see the doctor.
1 x-ray, a bag full of medicines, a wallet ripped of money, 30 minutes of inhaling the hospital air and just 2 minutes of the doctor's actual time later here I am. I have a mild cervical spondilytis and I have been given completely un-doctorly advice to rest, to not exercise and to gain weight. What an enviable position to be in! Minus the pain in the hand of course. I think I should thank all my colleagues who suffered in silence the smell of various ointments and sprays I spread in my cube, who walked around with serious straight face seeing me punching my hand and doing yoga anywhere, anytime.
But I am not getting any sympathies from expected quarters. K2 and A. They have asked me to sit straight at work and do some exercise. K2’s advice of "Don’t pamper yourself didi" broke my heart!! : (
And guess what!! I have an extra rib! Listening to the doctor's advice on do's and dont's I was getting worried. But when he told me that I have a rudimentary rib that grows in my neck I was so pleased! See, I always knew I had that extra thing in me! :) The rib thing was the best thing that happened this weekend.
I must share two real-life incidents which will make you smile.
I constantly pester my dad about his diet. I keep asking him what he had for breakfast or lunch or dinner depending on the time when he called. Since he is not supposed to eat sweet for his "mild" diabetes he gets irritated every time we ask what he is eating.
So, when I had called him one morning asking him what he had for breakfast, he replied,
"Bread Jaaa...Bread Butter." Okay, it sounded much funnier when it happened.
My friend from office, N, is funny in his own way. The other day he came across the book "Namesake", which now has Tabu and Irfaan Khan on the cover. He remarked very seriously, "Oh! So they have made a book out of the movie? That's good!"
Folks, I plan to write fiction on my other blog, "A bag-full of stories". It's still a fledgling blog. Ha! The main blog itself suffers from severe neglect, and I have ambitiously gone ahead with the new blog! Well... So, the point is the story I was writing in parts, about Chitra and her friends ( People! Do you even remember?) is continued on the new blog.
And A shall be off to NY for a month. What will K do? Sigh.
I had a lot of things planned for the weekend. The first one was to visit the orthopedic.
For the last few months my right hand has shown signs of rebellion. There was a mild pain in the forearm, the fingers were stiff and the when I rotated my wrist there was this “kut kut” sound. Yeah, I had blogged about this last year too! So I found myself flexing my arm, constantly pressing my forearm and subjecting my colleagues to Moov spray abuse. After a lot of procrastination and lot more googling on my symptoms we decided to see the doctor.
1 x-ray, a bag full of medicines, a wallet ripped of money, 30 minutes of inhaling the hospital air and just 2 minutes of the doctor's actual time later here I am. I have a mild cervical spondilytis and I have been given completely un-doctorly advice to rest, to not exercise and to gain weight. What an enviable position to be in! Minus the pain in the hand of course. I think I should thank all my colleagues who suffered in silence the smell of various ointments and sprays I spread in my cube, who walked around with serious straight face seeing me punching my hand and doing yoga anywhere, anytime.
But I am not getting any sympathies from expected quarters. K2 and A. They have asked me to sit straight at work and do some exercise. K2’s advice of "Don’t pamper yourself didi" broke my heart!! : (
And guess what!! I have an extra rib! Listening to the doctor's advice on do's and dont's I was getting worried. But when he told me that I have a rudimentary rib that grows in my neck I was so pleased! See, I always knew I had that extra thing in me! :) The rib thing was the best thing that happened this weekend.
I must share two real-life incidents which will make you smile.
I constantly pester my dad about his diet. I keep asking him what he had for breakfast or lunch or dinner depending on the time when he called. Since he is not supposed to eat sweet for his "mild" diabetes he gets irritated every time we ask what he is eating.
So, when I had called him one morning asking him what he had for breakfast, he replied,
"Bread Jaaa...Bread Butter." Okay, it sounded much funnier when it happened.
My friend from office, N, is funny in his own way. The other day he came across the book "Namesake", which now has Tabu and Irfaan Khan on the cover. He remarked very seriously, "Oh! So they have made a book out of the movie? That's good!"
Folks, I plan to write fiction on my other blog, "A bag-full of stories". It's still a fledgling blog. Ha! The main blog itself suffers from severe neglect, and I have ambitiously gone ahead with the new blog! Well... So, the point is the story I was writing in parts, about Chitra and her friends ( People! Do you even remember?) is continued on the new blog.
And A shall be off to NY for a month. What will K do? Sigh.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Of the nut and the gem
She saw that he was a tall guy and wore an easy smile. He danced around the edge of the dance floor as if he was afraid of somebody bumping into him. Though she knew him as a co-employee for just a couple of days, hours actually she did something she would have never done otherwise. She pushed him into the dancing crowd.
He was shocked. First, at the sudden push and then at her audacity. The short, thin girl with her glasses looked more like a school girl. Before he could say anything she laughed, pleased with herself and asked him why he was dancing so timidly. He showed her the band-aid on his thumb and said, "I have hurt myself." She was amused. So he was more paranoid than her, she thought. She got to know later that he had a nasty wound on his hand that night which he had covered with his sleeve and she felt bad for pushing him.
This happened 3 years ago. Along with hundred other useless details of the party that night she clearly remembers the shirt he was wearing. She is not sure if he remembers what she wore. That doesn’t matter to her because he remembers that party as their first meeting.
As they got to know each other better, he realized that she was as impossible as one can get and she realized that he was a pure gem. But the gem also thought that the nut was impossibly cute. Okay, the nut made up this. The nut and the gem celebrated their 2nd wedding anniversary last month. The nut has cried, howled, glared, heatedly argued, rolled on the floor laughing, watched the sci-fi movies for the gem's sake, followed the gem like his tail and embarrassed the gem on countless occasions. The gem has also cried, howled, glared, gone into post-argument-silence, listened to all the nutty jabbering, cracked some real good and some real terrible jokes, shopped with the nut, tried to make the nut an early-riser in vain and watched cloyingly-sweet movies for the nut's sake.
The gem gifted the nut with a diamond for the anniversary. Guess what the gem wanted from the nut? A pair of sports pajamas.
He was shocked. First, at the sudden push and then at her audacity. The short, thin girl with her glasses looked more like a school girl. Before he could say anything she laughed, pleased with herself and asked him why he was dancing so timidly. He showed her the band-aid on his thumb and said, "I have hurt myself." She was amused. So he was more paranoid than her, she thought. She got to know later that he had a nasty wound on his hand that night which he had covered with his sleeve and she felt bad for pushing him.
This happened 3 years ago. Along with hundred other useless details of the party that night she clearly remembers the shirt he was wearing. She is not sure if he remembers what she wore. That doesn’t matter to her because he remembers that party as their first meeting.
As they got to know each other better, he realized that she was as impossible as one can get and she realized that he was a pure gem. But the gem also thought that the nut was impossibly cute. Okay, the nut made up this. The nut and the gem celebrated their 2nd wedding anniversary last month. The nut has cried, howled, glared, heatedly argued, rolled on the floor laughing, watched the sci-fi movies for the gem's sake, followed the gem like his tail and embarrassed the gem on countless occasions. The gem has also cried, howled, glared, gone into post-argument-silence, listened to all the nutty jabbering, cracked some real good and some real terrible jokes, shopped with the nut, tried to make the nut an early-riser in vain and watched cloyingly-sweet movies for the nut's sake.
The gem gifted the nut with a diamond for the anniversary. Guess what the gem wanted from the nut? A pair of sports pajamas.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Dear Aai,
Though we talk to each other everyday, there are some things which are never expressed. Like, I have never told you how much I admire you. Are you blushing? Hehehe!
Well, they say “Like Mother, like daughter”. So true in so many ways and not so true in some.
My tiny frame, my love of nature, love of animals, traveling and making friends, reading books and newspapers, are just some of the things I have taken after you. And there are some of your qualities which I keep wishing for. Like your hard working nature, the determination to successfully complete whatever tasks you undertake, and the magic in your hands which makes impossible seem such a stupid idea. Your hands bake cakes/biscuits, cook delicious meals, knit lovely sweaters, stitch frocks/skirts/curtains/pillow covers/salwar kameezes, sew buttons/soles of sandals, love and tend, care and mend. Then I wish I could be as generous, patient, courageous, strong and smart as you are. I would have also naively wished to be beautiful like you, but then it’s not possible to change my features without going under the knife.
All these years you have taught us so many things. You not only helped us with studies but also encouraged us to learn new things. You made our summer vacations so special by keeping us involved in something. I think the most important lesson you taught us by example was that everything’s possible if you are ready to put in that extra effort. You also taught us to be God-loving and not God-fearing. So for us God is not some vague, supernatural force, but a dear friend.
I can imagine the glow on your face reading this post. I know how proud you and Baba feel about us and our achievements (however small). I also know that we have a long way to go, just to keep up with our role model. Baba and your success as parents lies in the fact that we want to be good human beings, just like you. Congratulations Aai!
If you are wondering (which I am sure you are not) what’s the whole thing about…Wishing you a very happy Mothers’ Day!!!
Yours lovingly,
K1,K2,K3
PS: I am writing this for K2 and K3 as well because we 3 think alike. Thanks to you!
Another PS: Wishing a very happy Mothers’ Day to all the mothers who make us who we are.
Well, they say “Like Mother, like daughter”. So true in so many ways and not so true in some.
My tiny frame, my love of nature, love of animals, traveling and making friends, reading books and newspapers, are just some of the things I have taken after you. And there are some of your qualities which I keep wishing for. Like your hard working nature, the determination to successfully complete whatever tasks you undertake, and the magic in your hands which makes impossible seem such a stupid idea. Your hands bake cakes/biscuits, cook delicious meals, knit lovely sweaters, stitch frocks/skirts/curtains/pillow covers/salwar kameezes, sew buttons/soles of sandals, love and tend, care and mend. Then I wish I could be as generous, patient, courageous, strong and smart as you are. I would have also naively wished to be beautiful like you, but then it’s not possible to change my features without going under the knife.
All these years you have taught us so many things. You not only helped us with studies but also encouraged us to learn new things. You made our summer vacations so special by keeping us involved in something. I think the most important lesson you taught us by example was that everything’s possible if you are ready to put in that extra effort. You also taught us to be God-loving and not God-fearing. So for us God is not some vague, supernatural force, but a dear friend.
I can imagine the glow on your face reading this post. I know how proud you and Baba feel about us and our achievements (however small). I also know that we have a long way to go, just to keep up with our role model. Baba and your success as parents lies in the fact that we want to be good human beings, just like you. Congratulations Aai!
If you are wondering (which I am sure you are not) what’s the whole thing about…Wishing you a very happy Mothers’ Day!!!
Yours lovingly,
K1,K2,K3
PS: I am writing this for K2 and K3 as well because we 3 think alike. Thanks to you!
Another PS: Wishing a very happy Mothers’ Day to all the mothers who make us who we are.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Monkey-giri
If you ask my Mom which animal best described me as a child, "Monkey" she will say without missing a beat. “Not just as a child, even now she is a Monkey”, she will most likely add. No, no, she is not abusing me, she is just making it easier for you to imagine. Getting the head or hand stuck between two window bars, jumping from about 5-6 feet and missing the target, etc were some of the highpoints of my career as a monkey.
As a child, I found myself in weird situations while actually doing nothing. Something as simple as walking through the narrow corridor would end up in me bumping into the walls, hurting something or the other. And this happened almost everyday. Twice I have got my head and leg stuck in the window bars. On both occasions, I was too proud to ask my mom for help. So, I have ended up sitting/standing on the window pane for a couple of hours before my mom came to know the reason for my sudden inactivity.
The good thing that comes from this is stardom and popularity. Your stories will be told to other kids in the family/neighborhood. "One day K was looking out of the window. She did not listen to her mother and then...."So what if at your expense people will have a good laugh.
There's one memory that is particularly vivid. I was in class 1. I had won a prize in a drawing competition and we (K2, K3 who was a baby then, my Mom, uncle and me) were seated in a hall for prize distribution.
For chairs we had a fiber-seat fitted on a steel frame. There was enough gap between the seat and the frame for a tiny hand to slide through. My mom had told me to sit quiet, with folded hands and not get into any trouble. Despite that my hands kept on sliding through those gaps. And then my left hand got stuck in the gap. For 5 minutes I tried wriggling it free. Then my mom, my uncle took turns pulling my hands, pushing the chair, huffing-puffing in between and of course scolding me all the while. There were occasional "Phatacks" on my back. Then my name was announced. Innocently I suggested to my Mom that I could go with both of them holding the chair behind me. My Mom paid no attention to anything and kept at wrenching my hand out. 5-7 minutes later my hand came out free, red and sore. No, I didn’t miss the limelight. The organizers called out my name again.
At home, when the monkey told the whole thing excitedly to her dad with the shiny trophy in her hand, she had forgotten all the embarrassment and "Phatacks".
As a child, I found myself in weird situations while actually doing nothing. Something as simple as walking through the narrow corridor would end up in me bumping into the walls, hurting something or the other. And this happened almost everyday. Twice I have got my head and leg stuck in the window bars. On both occasions, I was too proud to ask my mom for help. So, I have ended up sitting/standing on the window pane for a couple of hours before my mom came to know the reason for my sudden inactivity.
The good thing that comes from this is stardom and popularity. Your stories will be told to other kids in the family/neighborhood. "One day K was looking out of the window. She did not listen to her mother and then...."So what if at your expense people will have a good laugh.
There's one memory that is particularly vivid. I was in class 1. I had won a prize in a drawing competition and we (K2, K3 who was a baby then, my Mom, uncle and me) were seated in a hall for prize distribution.
For chairs we had a fiber-seat fitted on a steel frame. There was enough gap between the seat and the frame for a tiny hand to slide through. My mom had told me to sit quiet, with folded hands and not get into any trouble. Despite that my hands kept on sliding through those gaps. And then my left hand got stuck in the gap. For 5 minutes I tried wriggling it free. Then my mom, my uncle took turns pulling my hands, pushing the chair, huffing-puffing in between and of course scolding me all the while. There were occasional "Phatacks" on my back. Then my name was announced. Innocently I suggested to my Mom that I could go with both of them holding the chair behind me. My Mom paid no attention to anything and kept at wrenching my hand out. 5-7 minutes later my hand came out free, red and sore. No, I didn’t miss the limelight. The organizers called out my name again.
At home, when the monkey told the whole thing excitedly to her dad with the shiny trophy in her hand, she had forgotten all the embarrassment and "Phatacks".
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Forgive but forget not.
How on earth do you forgive when you haven’t forgotten? And with my memory, I don’t just remember the hurt, but everything associated with it in painful detail. Not that I want to. So, when I forgive someone, it's a huge effort. Unfortunately my demeanor and my tendency to laugh away things and to pretend that I haven’t heard or understood that nasty comment thrown about me, people mistake me to be a "practical person" who doesn’t "feel" things. The truth is, it feels every time. The words which pinch , bite and makes one cry have the same effect on me too. But you won't see it if you don’t want to.
I have thought of shouting back and to give people taste of their own medicine. But that is reacting the way they expected you to. So, I still laugh away or pretend that I haven’t heard or understood that nasty comment thrown about me. And for a good reason. To deprive the devil of the pleasure to see the other pained by his/her scornful insensitive remark is indeed a sweet revenge.
So the next time when I laugh and people say that I have an easy laugh, I will laugh at the thought. Nothing's easy buddy.
PS: I think I have been bragging a lot about my memory these days. Because for the first time, I have forgotten the login-id and password to an important site. Sigh...
Well, this postscript was an afterthought. To let my friends know that I am alright, just irritated with something.
I have thought of shouting back and to give people taste of their own medicine. But that is reacting the way they expected you to. So, I still laugh away or pretend that I haven’t heard or understood that nasty comment thrown about me. And for a good reason. To deprive the devil of the pleasure to see the other pained by his/her scornful insensitive remark is indeed a sweet revenge.
So the next time when I laugh and people say that I have an easy laugh, I will laugh at the thought. Nothing's easy buddy.
PS: I think I have been bragging a lot about my memory these days. Because for the first time, I have forgotten the login-id and password to an important site. Sigh...
Well, this postscript was an afterthought. To let my friends know that I am alright, just irritated with something.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Lost and found
In his speech recently, Dada spoke about friendship. He said that one friend is not enough for one’s lifetime and the more friends one has the more enriched life one will lead. Well, I have been really fortunate with my friends; all my friends are my best friends.
This post is about my first best friend.
The day we met first in our first standard class we became best friends. We shared our lunch boxes, color pencils, story-books, and other small things which children are interested in. We gave each other hand-made greeting cards and did not tire talking to each other.
G had a lovely, fair complexion, silky brown hair, and amber eyes. And she was tall for her age. Her house was just opposite to our school and many evenings after school were spent at her place playing snakes and ladders. I still remember the taste of the rice and peas-daal her mother used to make. We both loved drawing and enjoyed participating in drawing competitions. Sometime she bagged a prize sometimes, I did. Even in our class we used to come 1st-2nd. In a way we were competing with each other but that never changed our friendship; it was as sweet and innocent as any 6 year old girl.
I was a happy kid and loved my school. Because of G I loved it even more. For 3 years, my parents got bored of me saying “G likes this, G likes that”. So did G’s parents hear her saying “K likes this, K likes that” more than anything else.
And then one day, we had to move. My Dad got transferred from Pune. I was leaving the city I loved dearly and I dreaded the thought of not meeting G again. On my last day there, I tried extremely hard to not cry. I did something really strong for an 8 year old; I smiled and said “Goodbye” to my friends and G. The memory is still so vivid and the pain fresh. “Pain” might sound an extreme word but that’s the word here.
When my first post-card letter to G was not answered, I tried not to lose heart. And I kept sending her letters for some time. Then time flew, new friends came, there were new things to learn and study. But G was never forgotten.
Last year I tried searching G on Google, orkut, and whichever other source I could think of. In vain.
I was in for a pleasant surprise. My parents and sisters had gone shopping in Pune during Diwali last year. My dad thought he saw a lady who looked just like G’s mom. And guess what! She indeed was. G was standing next to her. They just had to hear my name and there were shrieks of joyous surprise. Wish I were there to see the surprise on their faces.
Calling up G after 18 years, I imagined how the conversation would go. The lost time, the friendship that could have seen years of familiarity, the new friends and different lives we led, what were we going to talk about…I didn’t know. I need not have worried. Once we started talking it was like a torrent. We had so much to talk about, so much to update each other with. For the first few minutes, both of us kept talking at the same time, then kept laughing and then came the questions…too many of them. And then we both were so overcome with emotion that we could hardly talk.
All in all, it was amazing talking to her, and I think I seriously underestimated the happiness a long-lost friend can bring. And all the wonderful exchange of emails, phone calls…There’s so much that I want to write here, but I will keep that till the time we meet each other.
This post is about my first best friend.
The day we met first in our first standard class we became best friends. We shared our lunch boxes, color pencils, story-books, and other small things which children are interested in. We gave each other hand-made greeting cards and did not tire talking to each other.
G had a lovely, fair complexion, silky brown hair, and amber eyes. And she was tall for her age. Her house was just opposite to our school and many evenings after school were spent at her place playing snakes and ladders. I still remember the taste of the rice and peas-daal her mother used to make. We both loved drawing and enjoyed participating in drawing competitions. Sometime she bagged a prize sometimes, I did. Even in our class we used to come 1st-2nd. In a way we were competing with each other but that never changed our friendship; it was as sweet and innocent as any 6 year old girl.
I was a happy kid and loved my school. Because of G I loved it even more. For 3 years, my parents got bored of me saying “G likes this, G likes that”. So did G’s parents hear her saying “K likes this, K likes that” more than anything else.
And then one day, we had to move. My Dad got transferred from Pune. I was leaving the city I loved dearly and I dreaded the thought of not meeting G again. On my last day there, I tried extremely hard to not cry. I did something really strong for an 8 year old; I smiled and said “Goodbye” to my friends and G. The memory is still so vivid and the pain fresh. “Pain” might sound an extreme word but that’s the word here.
When my first post-card letter to G was not answered, I tried not to lose heart. And I kept sending her letters for some time. Then time flew, new friends came, there were new things to learn and study. But G was never forgotten.
Last year I tried searching G on Google, orkut, and whichever other source I could think of. In vain.
I was in for a pleasant surprise. My parents and sisters had gone shopping in Pune during Diwali last year. My dad thought he saw a lady who looked just like G’s mom. And guess what! She indeed was. G was standing next to her. They just had to hear my name and there were shrieks of joyous surprise. Wish I were there to see the surprise on their faces.
Calling up G after 18 years, I imagined how the conversation would go. The lost time, the friendship that could have seen years of familiarity, the new friends and different lives we led, what were we going to talk about…I didn’t know. I need not have worried. Once we started talking it was like a torrent. We had so much to talk about, so much to update each other with. For the first few minutes, both of us kept talking at the same time, then kept laughing and then came the questions…too many of them. And then we both were so overcome with emotion that we could hardly talk.
All in all, it was amazing talking to her, and I think I seriously underestimated the happiness a long-lost friend can bring. And all the wonderful exchange of emails, phone calls…There’s so much that I want to write here, but I will keep that till the time we meet each other.
Friday, March 23, 2007
I can't think of any title for this post
Last month I lost my ring. Naturally I was very upset. Till one minute before I lost it I remember fiddling with it. The fact that it was a gold ring with a yellow sapphire that Dada gave was reason enough to feel bad and to make it worse people kept asking me how I always lose my rings. Yeah…I lost another gold ring with a shiny pearl (also given by Dada) 5 years ago.
According to A, wearing any piece of jewelry other than absolutely necessary is a sheer waste of money and is a big bother. I don’t know from when did jewelry become a necessity. I like it, I wear it, is what it is.
For a clingy crab like me who holds onto everything that is “mine”, losing rings like that is a big shock. Years ago I remember how after the annual exams we girls used to settle down in the afternoons to clear our cupboards. The “to throw” pile would be next to non-existent while we took time to admire broken mugs, old rakhis, faded stickers, and similar items before stacking them again. Now, the crab was not for the person that I am but for my sun sign. This reminds me, a few days ago I was talking to a colleague about sun signs and whether they make any sense. After analyzing the behavior of almost all my team members he asked me my opinion. I just said that I think whatever they write about my sign applies in my case to a good extent. To this he answered that people under MY sun sign believe only good things said about them and feel that the rest is not true. Hello!! Now, isn’t this true about everyone around? And they blame the crabs!
Well, coming back to where the post started…As I type, from the corner of my eye I can see my new ring shining bright and (hopefully) sitting tight. Bad rhyme I know, couldn’t resist though. Rhyme again? :)
According to A, wearing any piece of jewelry other than absolutely necessary is a sheer waste of money and is a big bother. I don’t know from when did jewelry become a necessity. I like it, I wear it, is what it is.
For a clingy crab like me who holds onto everything that is “mine”, losing rings like that is a big shock. Years ago I remember how after the annual exams we girls used to settle down in the afternoons to clear our cupboards. The “to throw” pile would be next to non-existent while we took time to admire broken mugs, old rakhis, faded stickers, and similar items before stacking them again. Now, the crab was not for the person that I am but for my sun sign. This reminds me, a few days ago I was talking to a colleague about sun signs and whether they make any sense. After analyzing the behavior of almost all my team members he asked me my opinion. I just said that I think whatever they write about my sign applies in my case to a good extent. To this he answered that people under MY sun sign believe only good things said about them and feel that the rest is not true. Hello!! Now, isn’t this true about everyone around? And they blame the crabs!
Well, coming back to where the post started…As I type, from the corner of my eye I can see my new ring shining bright and (hopefully) sitting tight. Bad rhyme I know, couldn’t resist though. Rhyme again? :)
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Back!
Hi all! Coming back to blog after a while I feel sorry for my blog.
I also feel sorry for myself and my New Year resolution of blogging at least once a month. :-(
Well, oh well! I was busy!! I won’t talk about office and work. But I will only say it was crazy!
In the last few of weeks, I attended 2 weddings, met old friends (such a relief) and went for A's team outing. Yeah, it was his team's outing and family was invited. I am glad I went...not only did A enjoy himself, I also had a great time. We participated enthusiastically in all those games and cheered like school-kids when our team won.
The new house now feels old. Not looks-wise, but strangely enough we feel as if we have been staying here for a long time already.
Now, I yearn for a dog. But I have been told by A last year to wait for another 40 years before I can even ask for a dog. Hmmmphf.
Almost 12 years ago, my dad faced this dilemma. His 3 daughters were begging, pleading and threatening him to take in a sad looking pup. My usually practical mom even had a name ready. My dad looked at the pup and then looked at us and said "I am telling you, he's going to be a big liability! Who will look after him? Who will take him for walks?"
“We will we will!!” 3 of us in unison.
My dad just shook his head.
So that was it. We got King at the most inappropriate of times. I, the eldest kid was in 10th. Our house was extremely tiny, the land-lord and his wife were forever scheming how to make things difficult for us and to top all the woes we got a dog. But, without a shred of doubt, those were the happiest days. I can’t say the same for my dad though! King became his responsibility from day one!
King, who came into our lives as a tiny, timid, confused looking pup with huge eyes soon over-grew us. At 6 months when Kingu, as we called him, stood on his hind-limbs he could hold my shoulders. And he was as naughty as a 6-7 year-old kid.
And finicky about food too! Mom had to literally feed him the first bite before he would devour from his dish. He would wake me up every morning scratching my face with his paws. Imagine, I used to get up seeing his black nose sniffing away at my face every morning for a couple of years!
Having him was like having a baby in the house. K3 would play tug-of-war with him and we used to roll with laughter watching them! And like any attention crazy child he would love us talking to him. But how long could we do that, with our school, college and studies? K3 soon came up with an idea which worked like charm. She used to study sitting in front of him and read aloud her lessons. After every 3-4 sentences, she would take his name. So it sounded like, "You know what Newton did, King? He not only found out gravity, he also wrote 3 laws." After about a page of K3's lesson, King would promptly fall asleep. Poor thing!
Our lives revolved around him, he ruled our lives in true sense. It was so much fun to come home from college/school and to find him waiting for you with his tail wagging like crazy. It was such an ego-boost to see some one so happy to see you back!!
Every day was some new King story. How he was scared of the sun beam that fell on him from the window, how he got K2's hair band stuck around his neck, how much he loved his collar with bells on it, how he enjoyed eating upma and noodles, and how this ferocious looking dog was the most gentle creature we knew...It used to be a funny sight to see him looking at the kitten licking away the milk from his plate and then whining for food!
I know when I start talking about King, memories just keep pouring and it's difficult to keep my eyes dry. There’s so much more to write about our beloved dog, but the way he has touched our lives can’t be put in words. I can see those who have had or have pets nodding their heads in agreement.
I also feel sorry for myself and my New Year resolution of blogging at least once a month. :-(
Well, oh well! I was busy!! I won’t talk about office and work. But I will only say it was crazy!
In the last few of weeks, I attended 2 weddings, met old friends (such a relief) and went for A's team outing. Yeah, it was his team's outing and family was invited. I am glad I went...not only did A enjoy himself, I also had a great time. We participated enthusiastically in all those games and cheered like school-kids when our team won.
The new house now feels old. Not looks-wise, but strangely enough we feel as if we have been staying here for a long time already.
Now, I yearn for a dog. But I have been told by A last year to wait for another 40 years before I can even ask for a dog. Hmmmphf.
Almost 12 years ago, my dad faced this dilemma. His 3 daughters were begging, pleading and threatening him to take in a sad looking pup. My usually practical mom even had a name ready. My dad looked at the pup and then looked at us and said "I am telling you, he's going to be a big liability! Who will look after him? Who will take him for walks?"
“We will we will!!” 3 of us in unison.
My dad just shook his head.
So that was it. We got King at the most inappropriate of times. I, the eldest kid was in 10th. Our house was extremely tiny, the land-lord and his wife were forever scheming how to make things difficult for us and to top all the woes we got a dog. But, without a shred of doubt, those were the happiest days. I can’t say the same for my dad though! King became his responsibility from day one!
King, who came into our lives as a tiny, timid, confused looking pup with huge eyes soon over-grew us. At 6 months when Kingu, as we called him, stood on his hind-limbs he could hold my shoulders. And he was as naughty as a 6-7 year-old kid.
And finicky about food too! Mom had to literally feed him the first bite before he would devour from his dish. He would wake me up every morning scratching my face with his paws. Imagine, I used to get up seeing his black nose sniffing away at my face every morning for a couple of years!
Having him was like having a baby in the house. K3 would play tug-of-war with him and we used to roll with laughter watching them! And like any attention crazy child he would love us talking to him. But how long could we do that, with our school, college and studies? K3 soon came up with an idea which worked like charm. She used to study sitting in front of him and read aloud her lessons. After every 3-4 sentences, she would take his name. So it sounded like, "You know what Newton did, King? He not only found out gravity, he also wrote 3 laws." After about a page of K3's lesson, King would promptly fall asleep. Poor thing!
Our lives revolved around him, he ruled our lives in true sense. It was so much fun to come home from college/school and to find him waiting for you with his tail wagging like crazy. It was such an ego-boost to see some one so happy to see you back!!
Every day was some new King story. How he was scared of the sun beam that fell on him from the window, how he got K2's hair band stuck around his neck, how much he loved his collar with bells on it, how he enjoyed eating upma and noodles, and how this ferocious looking dog was the most gentle creature we knew...It used to be a funny sight to see him looking at the kitten licking away the milk from his plate and then whining for food!
I know when I start talking about King, memories just keep pouring and it's difficult to keep my eyes dry. There’s so much more to write about our beloved dog, but the way he has touched our lives can’t be put in words. I can see those who have had or have pets nodding their heads in agreement.
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