Kitchen Karma

What goes around, comes around : Few things most women would like to tell you about their Kitchen -

Do Not Enter (unless asked)
This space belongs primarily to the lady of the house and the domestic help. You are most welcome to come in and look around. But if you wish to grab a ladle, you'd either be a good cook or have been given due permission to do so. If you are a guest, your place is everywhere but the kitchen. We don't want you to see the last minute mess. It is only for us to see and the maid to clean.


Return the Utensils fast
If we like you and wish to send over yummy food to your place, make sure you return the utensils fast. They are not takeout containers. They doggy bags in the corner of your shelf need to come back home. Empty or filled, we don't care. Just send them back at the earliest. Especially the tupperware boxes.

Remove your shoes
Please remove your shoes before entering. This place is sacred. Most of us will also have our prayer rooms in a corner somewhere around.

Socialising is best left to the Living Room
You don't have to follow and come with us if we are just going to check upon the microwave before setting the table for dinner. Your guilt of 'not helping out' cannot be countered by you walking along with us into the kitchen. Sit in the living room, enjoy the snacks, we will be back out soon. (This applies to all women guests who have a habit of walking into the kitchen to have a conversation with hostess and refuse to step out).

Stacked plates are the best
This is for those who insist on carrying their plate, glass and cutlery to the sink after the meal. Please don't! First of all, you are a guest. And secondly, it is much easier to stack up the plates together, put all used cutlery in one glass, collect fish-bones in one quarter plate and roll all table mats into one bundle than the mess that will be created if you go one by one and crowd the sink. Trust me, you are only making us work twice coz we will have to do it again.

Do it in yours, not mine
If you make nice coffee or prepare better butter chicken, please do so in your kitchen and call us for lunch. Offering to cook is one thing, hijacking someone's kitchen is another. Not appreciated at all. Especially when you stand there asking the host, 'can I get some salt, can I get some pepper, can I get some sugar, can I get a ladle, can I get a pan' etc. etc. It is irritating.


Don't move anything
If you are here to stay for some days, know where everything is. Don't move things. Ask if you don't find it in an overview. Most articles are kept together as per usage - daily, weekly, monthly, yearly.

Fridge is a part of the Kitchen
Wherever it may be kept, the fridge is a part of the Kitchen. Do not open freely except for water and ice. If you need to use something, please ask. Things are stocked as per some math. Know the math. There is a reason why there are two containers of curd , six slices of cheese or spices in the freezer.


Don't dirty, don't clean
Try to avoid dirtying the kitchen. If you have unknowingly done so, then please don't clean it. Nothing is more embarrassing to a host than a guest cleaning up his/her house. Offer to clean, even reach out for the duster but if the host stops you, please leave the mess.

Don't judge
Everyone makes mistakes. Even the best ones. If someday you smell burnt rice or milk from you neighbours, don't go snooping 'Oh what happened'???

Don't compare

"My microwave reheats food it in less than a minute", "Our RO system refills itself in 40 minutes", "Our fridge makes ice before your's", "I have a two tier 4 burner gas, why don't you switch over to the same", "I never wash cut vegetables" etc. You might want to give such smart indicators and suggestions. Ummm... they might work at times but mostly they remind us of our limitations.


If you are family
You are most welcome in the kitchen. Do what you want. Cook, bake, clean, cut, wipe...whatever. But know this for sure - we decide the menu for the day and the domestic help takes orders only from us!

Old times' sake...

These are the times of 'here & now'. To remember people or honour them for old times' sake is a proposition long lost on a lot.

May it be retired soldiers, actors, writers, businessmen, politicians; doesn't matter what walk of life they belonged to, if they have served the country or mankind in someway or the other, they deserve to be treated well in the sunset of their lives. If nothing else, they merit politeness and recognition, they have earned it.

To question capabilities, ridicule ideologies of a veteran bureaucrat or avoid suggestions from an erstwhile General are met with applaud. Signs of time they say. One has to move ahead. Can't be stuck in old times or rest on past laurels. The in thing is speed of turnover and who reached the finishing line first. One can't be bothered with the slow and time consuming ways of the past. This is a thought one can't argue much about. It indeed is the need of the hour.

But to completely nullify and invalidate the contribution someone must have made just because they are at a vulnerable or feeble stage in life is so uncalled for!

SRK and Sachin are big names today. Just like Dev Anaand ji was once upon a time. Maybe Dev ji had an even more crowd pulling persona then. But just because they are no longer in the limelight or doing anything that can spin oodles of money, is it ok to laugh at them? 'Oh I don't like Lata's voice now, she has lost the touch', it is fashionable to say this. A lot of people do that. As if one is talking about a reality show winner who has forgotten how to sing. But she sang for past 65 years and must have been the biggest grosser of all times, is that a fact to be forgotten so soon? Can anybody sing like her at 81? Why not give credit where and when it is due?

I find this to be a trend that is setting in deep and firm. Not just with regards to celebrities but in and around our very families. 'Oh you don't know how this works so please don't meddle in this' seems to be an advice a lot of elderly people are getting from their offspring. True they are old, not savvy enough and may hamper your speed of work at times. But all those years they spent being patient with you, are they not worth slowing down for them now?

Friendships, relationships, a kind word, a good endeavour, a noble enterprise....they all warrant an encouraging thought back. Someone took a decision ten years back to spend the rest of their life with you. Someone stuck with you when the tide was against. Someone gave you a loan when no one else would. Just because all that is in the past doesn't mean you forget the thought and feelings behind those acts.

Intolerance towards the aged and all things old is something that bothers me. Why doesn't anyone realise that in a few years we will be crossing those roads too. How would we like it if someone whizzed past us without a care and no one put forth a helping hand if we fell down???

I could rattle off this poem once upon a time...-poem by Subhadrakumari Chauhan

सिंहासन हिल उठे राजवंशों ने भृकुटी तानी थी,
बूढ़े भारत में भी आई फिर से नयी जवानी थी,
गुमी हुई आज़ादी की कीमत सबने पहचानी थी,
दूर फिरंगी को करने की सबने मन में ठानी थी।

चमक उठी सन सत्तावन में, वह तलवार पुरानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

कानपूर के नाना की, मुँहबोली बहन छबीली थी,
लक्ष्मीबाई नाम, पिता की वह संतान अकेली थी,
नाना के सँग पढ़ती थी वह, नाना के सँग खेली थी,
बरछी, ढाल, कृपाण, कटारी उसकी यही सहेली थी।

वीर शिवाजी की गाथायें उसको याद ज़बानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

लक्ष्मी थी या दुर्गा थी वह स्वयं वीरता की अवतार,
देख मराठे पुलकित होते उसकी तलवारों के वार,
नकली युद्ध-व्यूह की रचना और खेलना खूब शिकार,
सैन्य घेरना, दुर्ग तोड़ना ये थे उसके प्रिय खिलवाड़|

महाराष्ट्र-कुल-देवी उसकी भी आराध्य भवानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

हुई वीरता की वैभव के साथ सगाई झाँसी में,
ब्याह हुआ रानी बन आई लक्ष्मीबाई झाँसी में,
राजमहल में बजी बधाई खुशियाँ छाई झाँसी में,
सुघट बुंदेलों की विरुदावलि-सी वह आयी थी झांसी में,

चित्रा ने अर्जुन को पाया, शिव को मिली भवानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

उदित हुआ सौभाग्य, मुदित महलों में उजियाली छाई,
किंतु कालगति चुपके-चुपके काली घटा घेर लाई,
तीर चलाने वाले कर में उसे चूड़ियाँ कब भाई,
रानी विधवा हुई, हाय! विधि को भी नहीं दया आई।

निसंतान मरे राजाजी रानी शोक-समानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

बुझा दीप झाँसी का तब डलहौज़ी मन में हरषाया,
राज्य हड़प करने का उसने यह अच्छा अवसर पाया,
फ़ौरन फौजें भेज दुर्ग पर अपना झंडा फहराया,
लावारिस का वारिस बनकर ब्रिटिश राज्य झाँसी आया।

अश्रुपूर्ण रानी ने देखा झाँसी हुई बिरानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

अनुनय विनय नहीं सुनती है, विकट शासकों की माया,
व्यापारी बन दया चाहता था जब यह भारत आया,
डलहौज़ी ने पैर पसारे, अब तो पलट गई काया,
राजाओं नव्वाबों को भी उसने पैरों ठुकराया।

रानी दासी बनी, बनी यह दासी अब महरानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

छिनी राजधानी दिल्ली की, लखनऊ छीना बातों-बात,
कैद पेशवा था बिठूर में, हुआ नागपुर का भी घात,
उदैपुर, तंजौर, सतारा,कर्नाटक की कौन बिसात?
जब कि सिंध, पंजाब ब्रह्म पर अभी हुआ था वज्र-निपात।

बंगाले, मद्रास आदि की भी तो वही कहानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

रानी रोयीं रनिवासों में, बेगम ग़म से थीं बेज़ार,
उनके गहने कपड़े बिकते थे कलकत्ते के बाज़ार,
सरे आम नीलाम छापते थे अंग्रेज़ों के अखबार,
'नागपुर के ज़ेवर ले लो लखनऊ के लो नौलख हार'।

यों परदे की इज़्ज़त परदेशी के हाथ बिकानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

कुटियों में भी विषम वेदना, महलों में आहत अपमान,
वीर सैनिकों के मन में था अपने पुरखों का अभिमान,
नाना धुंधूपंत पेशवा जुटा रहा था सब सामान,
बहिन छबीली ने रण-चण्डी का कर दिया प्रकट आहवान।

हुआ यज्ञ प्रारम्भ उन्हें तो सोई ज्योति जगानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

महलों ने दी आग, झोंपड़ी ने ज्वाला सुलगाई थी,
यह स्वतंत्रता की चिनगारी अंतरतम से आई थी,
झाँसी चेती, दिल्ली चेती, लखनऊ लपटें छाई थी,
मेरठ, कानपुर,पटना ने भारी धूम मचाई थी,

जबलपुर, कोल्हापुर में भी कुछ हलचल उकसानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

इस स्वतंत्रता महायज्ञ में कई वीरवर आए काम,
नाना धुंधूपंत, ताँतिया, चतुर अज़ीमुल्ला सरनाम,
अहमदशाह मौलवी, ठाकुर कुँवरसिंह सैनिक अभिराम,
भारत के इतिहास गगन में अमर रहेंगे जिनके नाम।

लेकिन आज जुर्म कहलाती उनकी जो कुरबानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

इनकी गाथा छोड़, चले हम झाँसी के मैदानों में,
जहाँ खड़ी है लक्ष्मीबाई मर्द बनी मर्दानों में,
लेफ्टिनेंट वाकर आ पहुँचा, आगे बढ़ा जवानों में,
रानी ने तलवार खींच ली, हुया द्वंद असमानों में।

ज़ख्मी होकर वाकर भागा, उसे अजब हैरानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

रानी बढ़ी कालपी आई, कर सौ मील निरंतर पार,
घोड़ा थक कर गिरा भूमि पर गया स्वर्ग तत्काल सिधार,
यमुना तट पर अंग्रेज़ों ने फिर खाई रानी से हार,
विजयी रानी आगे चल दी, किया ग्वालियर पर अधिकार।

अंग्रेज़ों के मित्र सिंधिया ने छोड़ी राजधानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

विजय मिली, पर अंग्रेज़ों की फिर सेना घिर आई थी,
अबके जनरल स्मिथ सम्मुख था, उसने मुहँ की खाई थी,
काना और मंदरा सखियाँ रानी के संग आई थी,
युद्ध श्रेत्र में उन दोनों ने भारी मार मचाई थी।

पर पीछे ह्यूरोज़ आ गया, हाय! घिरी अब रानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

तो भी रानी मार काट कर चलती बनी सैन्य के पार,
किन्तु सामने नाला आया, था वह संकट विषम अपार,
घोड़ा अड़ा, नया घोड़ा था, इतने में आ गये सवार,
रानी एक, शत्रु बहुतेरे, होने लगे वार-पर-वार।

घायल होकर गिरी सिंहनी उसे वीर गति पानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

रानी गई सिधार चिता अब उसकी दिव्य सवारी थी,
मिला तेज से तेज, तेज की वह सच्ची अधिकारी थी,
अभी उम्र कुल तेइस की थी, मनुज नहीं अवतारी थी,
हमको जीवित करने आयी बन स्वतंत्रता-नारी थी,

दिखा गई पथ, सिखा गई हमको जो सीख सिखानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

जाओ रानी याद रखेंगे ये कृतज्ञ भारतवासी,
यह तेरा बलिदान जगावेगा स्वतंत्रता अविनासी,
होवे चुप इतिहास, लगे सच्चाई को चाहे फाँसी,
हो मदमाती विजय, मिटा दे गोलों से चाहे झाँसी।

तेरा स्मारक तू ही होगी, तू खुद अमिट निशानी थी,
बुंदेले हरबोलों के मुँह हमने सुनी कहानी थी,
खूब लड़ी मर्दानी वह तो झाँसी वाली रानी थी।।

Loo hearings

I left Hawaii to come back to Delhi a day later than my husband. He took the Pacific route and me the Atlantic. Now for next 48 hours we would not be in contact. So I was a little low. They put me and my suitcases through an agriculture test. ‘All baggage bound from Hawaii to the U. S. Mainland (in my case it would be a long halt at the Newark Airport) is subject to pre-flight inspection by the U. S. Department of Agriculture. This is to prevent the spread of fruit flies and other hazardous plant insects and diseases.’, they claim.

I had to swipe my passport on these automated machines for the boarding pass. Never done that, so I asked someone for instructions. Realised it was simple. It scans the last two lines on the front inside cover (the one with lot of ‘<’ signs). I hear they have new biometric passports too. Mine was later fed in manually as the machine couldn’t read it :)

Then they tested my hands with some talcum powder kind of a thing. They say they were checking if I have handled explosives in the recent past. Ummm I wonder how this works during Diwali times.

I wasn’t in any mood to do any shopping. The dollar conversion makes me sick. More so when within one week of you having bought it at `48, it falls down to 45.

Everything was nice but I guess when one has decided to be unhappy, no one can do anything about it. I was simply sulking around. I think I was missing home, husband and dal chawal.

I kept my backpack down and was washing my face when I heard a familiar accent from behind one of the closed toilet doors. And then loud and clear ‘अरे चड्डी पहनो चड्डी ’.A mother was shouting at her child in Hindi, who refused to put the underpants back on.

I smiled. It cured me of the sad curve. In fact so much so that I laughed out loud :)

I had a good flight back to the mainland.

ho No Loo Loo

It is a record...till date!

Despite having spent a sizable chunk of my adult life in aircrafts, I have never been to an aircraft loo. I am paranoid. I feel that those automatic doors are going to go 'click' shut on me and malfunction and never open again. I have tried to get rid of this notion many a times but have made a straight 'U-turn' from the airplane toilet door. Just finished a 15 hour long flight. I kept my record. I still don't know how the li'l loo looks from inside :)

Family

Newark Airport

13 September, 11:30 am

It is huge and I am at the wrong gate. They printed 102 on my boarding pass in Delhi but I am to be at 108. Luckily I have 8 hours to kill so if I please I can visit all 139 gates one by one and yet have time to reach mine J

So I wander around...looking at shops. I venture into some, come out with a thing or two in hand and a conversion table running in my mind. 3 dollar tooth brush, damn! Why did I have to rush and forget mine at home! Anyway, most of my friends had advised me not to convert, coz it would cause only pain n no gain. So I stopped my mind calculator.

Walked into the tributary of gates leading up to gate no 99. Vino & volo looked like a serene place. People sitting on bar stools gives one a sense of good times. Never mind if they are just sipping on juices, it’s the bar stool that counts. Right next to it were the rest rooms.

I saw a couple struggling with two trolleys full of carryon baggage, a pair of infant twins and one toddler boy. I was amazed at their capacity and will power. Producing three boys was ok but to travel with them, merits an award! The little boy wanted to rush to the rest room. His crossed legs, bent torso and an impatient yell left nothing to imagination. “Mommieeeee hurry!” he begged.

The mother was trying her best. Handing over the tiny twin strapped onto her to her husband (am assuming he was the husband, a boyfriend would have not looked so calm). The husband already had another child strapped to him. Holding two babies, one in his right hand and the other in left, he epitomised the sum total of miseries men have to go through at times.

I was more concerned about the mother. Baby safely transferred, she was ripping Velcro after Velcro, trying to discard the baby holder (or whatever it is called). Must have been so frustrating. It seemed as if the little boy was all set to grace the hallway with his body waste when Mommie managed to free herself of all her trappings and run after him. I wonder which one did they enter ‘mens’ or ‘womens’. I guess ‘womens’.

My eyes and thoughts then wandered to the poor father standing out with two children and two cart full of luggage. He was trying to restrain one of the trolleys with his foot, I saw another little boy just behind it. A copy of the one that had just dashed into the bathroom. He was quiet and had a small little backpack of his own.

O my God, they had two sets of twins. One set aged 4-5 years and the other under a year. All boys! My heart went out to the parents who were trying to manage it all so bravely. Such a contrast from those people sitting leisurely on the bar stools next door. I walked ahead. I am at the ‘leisurely’ stage in life right now. Never know when I will be standing outside the restrooms coping up with such challenges. Who says family values are lost on our generation???

Eid mubarak....seriously!

The government letter was pending. Hubby dear was going to get his visa only after that was approved. My visa depended solely on his. Once he was cleared, I would go for the visa interview. What golmaal!

Oh...but my passport needed to have his name too, for me to prove that I am married. How were we ever going to do all this in such a short time?? WHy didn't I get that done soon after my marriage? Grrrr...
And then the tickets, cash, international calling cards, tidbits of info. from friends on where to go and what to do (you don't ask these things unless you have the visa and ticket in hand right??)

God bless my brother and husband who had insisted that I get my marriage registered at the earliest. Never knew it was going to come handy for this!

Finally his name is on my passport. All in bold! It feels nice. I haven't changed my name. In fact my in laws were quite supportive about it. So the fresh stamp in purple ink and black ball point pen which proclaims that I am married to so n so person, made me feel like a newly wed :).

It was thursday evening. He was yet to receive his documents. I had applied that afternoon for an emergency visa. The Visa guys replied within hours! Who does that??? Who expects an answer from one of the email ids that ends with a '.gov' so soon?? But they were quick. Calling me for a visa interview next morning on Friday. The very Friday on which our whole trip hung coz we were supposed to travel on Saturday to be able to attend the conference on Monday. Else there was going to be no trip!

The world was praying. So were we.

"Dear Moon, please be seenon Thursday night", prayed the world. Their three day weekend depended on it.

"Dear Moon, please don't be seen on Thursday night", we prayed. Our Hawaii trip depended on it.

Hail the Islamic lunar calendar! Nobody respects Imam Syed Bukhari of Jama Masjid as much as I do now. Such a righteous man! Despite the popular Friday demand, he announced that Eid would be on saturday, September 11th (bit ironic though). We got our visas, tickets and all things nice on Friday as offices remained open.

It indeed is Eid Mubarak for us...see you all when I am back from Aloha land :)
Happy Ganesh Chaturthi too!!!!!

(FYI - I paid for my own Visa, Ticket and accomodation)

Finally started the eStorybook

It took some time but 'Oot pataang' is finally up :)
the link is right here...on the right hand side.
In case you don't find it try
http://oot-pataang.blogspot.com/

There are long stories and short ones. Pick and choose the ones you want to read.
Will post the next one soon :)
Happy reading

Subject to approval...

I quit the company I worked for in 2006. My PF took 6 months to come into my account.

Those 6 months told me what Banks think of a person, especially 'a person without money'. Even though I had my salary account and spare monies with them for 8 years, they did not deem it fit to approve my personal loan application. I was going to travel over 25000 kms in six months and needed a video camera. I approached over 4 banks (I had monies in all four). None of them gave me a loan of INR 50,000/- . My request was 'subject to approval' they said.

I went on the trip without a camera of my own.

I came back and so did a big fat PF cheque from my company. I put it in my salary account and made an FD.

Soon I was eligible for a personal loan of INR 15 lac! Pre approved they said.

I opened a business. I needed a current account.

I went back to the bank. They took a long long time. 'Subject to approval' they said.

I withdrew monies from other banks and made out a big fat cheque to be put in the current account. It was opened in three days and I even had a 'relationship manager'.

Business grew. The bank gave me a financial planner/manager.
Business grew bigger. Bank sent silver coins, umbrellas, planners, calendars at regular intervals. Business account became Businessvantage, savings became Powervantage.

I fell in love.
I decided to marry.
I withdrew my money for the preparations.

I got married. Moved to a different city. Business dwindled. Businessvantage and powervantage accounts became normal business & savings accounts.

ATM card malfunctioned. Delhi branch said 'your Mumbai relationship manager' will have to get it for you. 'Mumbai relationship manager' no longer existed. Mailing address disparity they said.

I am to travel abroad this month. Credit card company refuses to increase the credit ceiling. In their own words 'past payment history (however spotless) didn't matter'. What mattered were this years IT returns. Subject to approval they said.

It's funny, the way they work. When you need the money, you are not eligible for a loan. When you don't need the money, you are.

Thank God the world doesn't work like a bank. Family, friends....they love you more each day, no matter what. Not subject to any approval!

One day of my life

Yesterday was a lovely day but for something that I am yet to come to terms with.

I know someone. Someone with whom I must have exchanged maximum five sentences till date. I realised that the person was on my friends list. So I said 'hi'...after years maybe.

What followed was a barrage of hate mails....in utmost coarse, disgusting and discrediting form of prose. It took me some time to gather what just happened. When have I hurt this person? When have I done anything to harm this person? I hardly know him! We had spoken maybe once or twice. He was a bright, soft spoken youngster. The only reason I remember him is because he was nice to me in my time of crisis and had offered to help (which I never availed of).

As the day progressed, my shock turned into disbelief. Disbelief into worry. Worry into serious concern. At this point I could not hold myself back. This boy needed help. His letters were gravely disturbing, eccentric and arrogant. Blaming me and a whole lot of other common friends to be spies of a corporate giant. How absurd!

I showed the letters to my husband. He looked at them from a doctors point of view. "This boy should be in therapy", he said. I was thinking of measures we could take to try and be of some assistance. He was such a nice person. So young and talented. What happened to him? What caused him so much distress that he had turned into this???

I remembered my fathers advice 'dusryanchya phatkyaat paay ghalu naye'. Literally it means, 'don't needle someone else's rip, it will only make the slit tear more' and maybe reveal the ugly scar.

A friend called in the evening. Call it divine intervention or sheer co incidence, this person knew him too and told me how they had tried to help him. All in vain. This boy is a victim of substance abuse and borders on 'a beautiful mind' situation.

Not wanting to sound missionary I quietly deleted him from my list. He still weighs tonnes on my mind. I am guilty of washing my hands off it.

I do regret that I lost one whole day in all this. One day of my life that I am never getting back. But that is nothing compared to a precious life that is slowing crumbling in another city, all wrapped up in a warped timespace.

is in a relationship with...

Facebook has become the lifeline of social networking. It has a wonderful application which announces to the world that 'so and so is in relationship with so and so'. I look at it and smile a heartfelt blessing for the new couple. I can see the rush on their cheeks, bounce in their gait, pink candy floss world that they live in. We have all had our moment under the mushy sun. We have all had a period of time which we refer to as 'the happiest days of my life'. Dew drop trance, pristine clouds that will take the forms that we want them too, open hair, breeze running through every pore, every breath so refreshing as if we were high on dope. You want to stand on a soap box and scream out your lungs into the universe to declare the new found status. One might be married for 30 years, but these recently baptized couples bring your own courtship days to life.

I smile at all this. Wish them luck hoping they will stick with each other for life.
As they turn away to walk hand in hand into the horizon, a little teeny weeny mean voice in my head giggles and says 'aage aage dekho, hota hai kya'!!!

Trophy glasses

Listening to the re-mix of jawaane-e-jaane man, I am reminded of days when I was 10 and had absolutely no idea about western dancing. Especially when invited to birthday parties, I remember this song being played quite a lot. Absolutely blank on how to move…I would just stand still and shake my body as per the rhythm (wish trance was in then).

Stretched out arms and weird footsteps were in fashion. So much so that I would keep looking at my friends and then go home and practice it. All in vain as the next birthday party would find me standing like a cold clod anyway.

Another low point would be the gifts I gave at these dos. It would unfailingly be a steel glass! Other kids gave fancy games in colourful packets. I gave a ‘steel glass’ wrapped in a ‘not so tactful way to hide it from looking like a glass’ package. Inscribed with my name and date using a motorized needle, it would just immortalize my shame.

Coming from a family which knew what a ‘rupee’ meant, these glasses were 8 rupees each so it wasn’t like they were cheap. I am talking of the early eighties. Once in a while it would be a steel lunchbox or a set of steel spoons. Grrr…but steel nevertheless. Maybe it had something to do with it being strong and lasting.

The next best thing I did was to start wrapping them up myself in discarded cardboard boxes so that at least they didn’t look like glasses while I was giving them.

So I would just gift and forget.

One day my school gave me three steel glasses for winning a race. Date, my name and name of the school inscribed on them! The universe was plotting against me!

Years passed by. I left home at 20 to come to Mumbai to make a life of my own. Packing a messy suitcase, I saw a few utensils my mom had kept aside for me. There they were again. Beggers can’t be choosers (I was leaving home out of my own will) so I was back with those glasses and a few plates.

I turned 35 recently.

I am married and have a lovely house. Everything just as I wanted. Curios from all over the world adorn walls and showcases. Some are gifted, some are bought.

The ones I cherish and have actually earned on my own are sitting pretty on the top shelf in the kitchen. Three steel glasses which say ‘Vandana Natu – KV Bambolim 1986’!

Know your Saree

I have started an album on facebook called 'Know your Saree'. I thought maybe you'd like to see it:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=205466&id=559266122&l=731164adda


You need to copy paste the above link and you will see the album. Do start from the first photograph. It will take you through the wonderful world of amazing drapes in a systematic manner. Enjoy!

The Green Eye

I look at everything with a green eye....that of a vegetarian's eye.
Few things non-vegetarians should know about vegetarians-

We don't eat meat for two reasons - Either we have been brought up in a household where it was banned or some life altering experience in our lives has converted us.


Vegetarians don't hate non-vegetarians. We just don't like to be told "You don't know what you are missing in life" or "How can you survive like that"? 


We are not fanatic or religious about it. We don't mind a good gravy once in a while if you don't thrust the chicken legs onto our plates with it.


For us all meat is the same. Prawns are as good as over sized maggots. Beef is just another form of animal protein/fat and so is pork. We don't categorize people into 'Beef non eaters', 'pork haters', 'snake eaters', 'sea food connoisseurs', 'Chinese who eat anything', 'Muslims who eat only Halal', 'Kosher', etc.. For us anyone who likes his reds n whites belongs to the group "Non-vegetarian".


Yes we have tasted chicken tikka in our lives (well most of us).


You can keep a juicy stake in front of us and we won't bat an eyelid. We are not trying to resist it. It just doesn't tempt us. We are conditioned like that.


We do think about the environment but not all the time. Being a vegetarian is by no means an indication that we are Greenpeace activists.


We don't judge you when you relish that lamb in front of us. Please enjoy your meal.


We have sub-classes too. Sometimes we have these '100% pure' kinds of our own breed who push us to the edge trying to find a 'puwer eating joint' in the middle of Kuala Lumpur. If it comes to starvation, most of us will eat eggs. 


Some of us have hard core non-vegetarian spouses and kids. We cook for them without ever tasting it. It turns out just fine. Else they wouldn't be asking for refills.


We don't force our children. They can eat what they want once they are old enough to decide but until then, it will be our way.


We don't eat meat does not mean we don't like our drinks or puffs.


We watch cookery shows that teach us how to make a Beef Wellington.


When in a group, don't worry about us. We will always find something to eat. If the group decides on 'Kareem's', so be it. We can manage with Tandoori aaloo or paneer. Don't change the excited group dynamics for us. We like to see our friends enjoy.


We are not boring people just coz' we don't flaunt our upper canines.


If we have never complimented you on the lovely fish or shepherd's pie you make, please forgive us. Subconsciously we feel it might sound odd coming from us as we never taste it. But trust me, we can tell from the smell how good the dish must be.


No, we don't want you to convert if you fall in love with us :)

It's all here...

Paul Photo Studio
Sarojini Nagar Market
New Delhi
31st Aug 2010, 5:15pm

Husband: We want to get 3 photographs clicked. For Visa purposes.
Shop assistants: It will cost you rs. 168 for 6 copies, per person.
Wife: We will need soft copies too as we want to apply online.
Shop assistants: That will be rs. 50 extra per person.
Wife (to husband): Sounds steep, right?
Husband (to shop assistants): Itna zyada (so much)??
Shop assistants beam a brash arrogant smirk and direct the couple to the shop owner sitting next to them.

Shop owner: It will be rs. 175 for 6 copies + rs. 75 for the soft copy, per person.
Husband: But your shop assistant just said 168+50.
Owner scoffed: Oh did they?
(They are sitting hardly 5-7 feet away.)
Shop assistants laugh: See you didn't listen to us. Now you have to pay more.
Shop owner and assistants in unison: (after exchanging a smile): Now, it is rs. 250 per person.

Husband and wife exchange a quick glance and step out of the studio without a word. Still wondering how an established shop can behave like a bunch of thugs.

If the story had ended here, I would have been a very sad person. Not for myself but for the capital where me and my husband are still newcomers. This would have been another one of those incidents that would have deepened the 'bad Delhi' notion generally floating around. Luckily for us, it didn't end here.

We walked out and entered the by lanes of the market. Asked people if there were any more studios. We were directed to another one. It was bit of a walk. As I walked, I was missing my 'Shivaji Park Photo studio at Dadar, Mumbai'. A Mumbaikar never misses a chance to start missing Mumbai, especially when in Delhi.

New Photo Life Studio

Sarojini Nagar Market

New Delhi

31st Aug 2010, 5:30 pm

We walked in. A lady was sitting at the counter. Pink punjabi suit, mangalsutra, fair and pleasantly plump. If she stepped out of that showroom, I would assume she was in the market to buy vegetables for dinner. But she sat there with an extremely professional look, handling business and monitoring CCTV footage at the same time.

Me: Photo khinchwani thi ji zara (have to get photographs clicked).

Lady: What kind? Passport, Visa, couple?

Husband: Visa, how much would that be?

Lady: rs 83 for 6 photos.

Husband: And soft copy?

Lady: That is free if you get your pen drive.

Me: What time can we collect it?

Lady: 7:30 pm.

Husband: Can't it be 7 pm?

Lady: No, 7:30 pm. It will be ready by then. If you come early you will have to wait unnecessarily.

Husband: Ok then, we would like one Visa photo each and one couple photo.

Lady: That will be rs. 215.

She smiled as she tendered change and asked us to goto the basement for photographs.

We were yet to get over the shock that we would have paid rs. 750 instead of rs. 215, to those big-headed brazen men at the other shop. Maybe we would have, if they weren't so rude.

All it needed was general politeness and fair trade practice. Just a smile and a fixed rate card (no matter how high or low) is all one expects from them.

It's the people who make the city. There is a bit of Dadar in every Sarojini Nagar Market and a bit of Sarojini Nagar Marget in every Dadar. We just need to be lucky enough to find and meet the right people. It's is all here!

(My pen drive didn't work when I went to collect the photographs. She cut a CD.  As I searched my purse for loose change for the CD, she  said " Give it to me when you come here next". A smile and transparency has won her loyal customers who will go only to her as long as they are in Delhi. )