Skip to main content


Showing posts from April, 2011

Lighted out!

Our erstwhile water purifier was a non-RO purifier and it was a long pending item on our list to buy a RO compliant one. (For the uninitiated, RO purifier is one that filters hard water/ borewell water). After much research we decided on “Kent” which is the most popular in Bangalore houses. It has the unique feature of being able to filter both kinds of water-soft and hard. Ok, now before you guys start to think I am a marketing agent for Kent and trying to sell this product to fellow bloggers, let me come to the point.

After some initial confusion about the billing part and a wait of over a week, we got the technician to install the machine. The after-sales service in Bangalore needs some help. Seriously. Anyway, I digress again. So, this technician dismounted our old one, fixed the new one, added and tweaked some fittings, jotted down some things in his book, all this with a precision and speed of a veteran.

I performed the balancing act of supervising him and keeping my curious to…

First Is Best

The firsts in one’s life are always special. They need not have been perfect yet remain in your hearts forever. The first school, first friend (maybe not be necessarily the first but someone who first made you feel special), first house, first crush, first love, first job, the list can go on.

A lot of firsts are etched out in my memory; the foremost and most often thought of and cherished one being that of my first job. In many ways, it could have been better. In many ways, I could have handled it better. Yet in spite of such failings, I cannot deny the fact that my investment in this job reaped me rich dividends in many more ways than one.

My first work place aided as my personality development school of sorts. From a shy, self-doubting person, I became a more confident person who started to believe in her abilities; even developed leadership qualities. It helped that my work commanded respect from my colleagues. While, working with a team felt more like an extension of a college …


Because I don’t speak,
Doesn’t mean I lack the courage
Because I don’t ask,
Doesn’t mean I don’t understand
Because I don’t cry,
Doesn’t mean I am not hurt
Because I don’t pry,
Doesn’t mean I am not concerned

I have a heart that feels,
I have a mind that thinks,
I am compassionate, so I know,
What can be said is best unsaid
I am just and fair,
But I am not perfect for all I care

I may not be the way you want me to be
Yet I am a soul, pray, don’t ignore me!


How does one say it? The heart is squeezed, voice is choked and eyes are misty. It is perhaps the last time of shared space. Suddenly there seems so much to talk about. So much to share; so much to laugh. You wish for one more year, one more month, one more day, one more moment of togetherness. You look back at the time that has whizzed past, caressing memories fondly, cherishing each laugh, each tear, the despair, the cheer, the harmless digs at one another, the said and the unsaid.

Promises to keep in touch are made. Hugs and best wishes exchanged. Bridges are crossed. Amends are made; forgiveness asked and given. Final moments are dragged on, almost as if waiting for the heavens to reverse it. Familiar hang-outs are revisited and the endless tales recaptured and bound in memory.

There is never an easy way to say goodbye. It is never easy to let go. Yet we say it. Life is about moving on and not stopping still. We are allowed to carry our baggage with us yet it is wise to de-clutt…

The Art Of Living

Observing R leaves me wondering where and when did we (grown ups) leave behind the art of living. It is amazing how he or in general toddlers carry on with their day. It is strictly on a day-to-day basis. They do not remember yesterday and they couldn’t care for tomorrow.

Our baggage of past eats well into our today and our today is creased with worry lines of tomorrow. We simply cannot concentrate on today and we do not remember the moments that went by.

Every moment is lived to the fullest. Even the tiniest accomplishment (it is not tiny for them of course) gives him the world of joy. No amount of failure or hurdles puts a spoke in his determination. He is relentless in his pursuit.

How come we never notice, leave alone revel in our small victories? How every step we take needs to be a success; so obsessed we are with whatever definition we have of success we fail to appreciate the little things that matter. Every obstacle we come across translates into our personal failure and a tr…

Band Baaja Bride.. the name of a show on NDTV Goodtimes. I have been following the programs on this channel since they launched it three years ago. They have some really good shows that cover a variety of topics -- food, travel, beauty, fashion, pets, fitness, technology, spirituality, to name a few.

The program in question conceptualizes the idea of providing the perfect makeover a bride-to-be ever dreams of. The team dons the garb of Santa Claus in transforming a girl-next-door into no less than a Bollywood diva on her D-day. From perfect make-up to designer outfits, the bride gets it all. “If you are getting married and would like to have a dream makeover, do write in to us and we may contact you” goes the ad campaign for this reality show. Of course there is a teeny weenie disclaimer that says, yes you guess it right, *conditions apply*. The episodes I have watched have generally featured brides-to-be from quite affluent families who can anyway afford expert advice. So there may be something …

What is new with R?

Have I mentioned how much R loves books? We try to equip his mini-library with a variety of books as and when we can. We hardly buy him any toys. Most of the toys he owns are gifts. We, mother and son duo, spend quite some time every day reading his books.

Some conversations between Amma and R

Amma: One,…
R: tu, ti, o, ai, chikch, ett, nine, ten
Amma: A,..
R : Bee, chee, eff, aech, ai,..

Hubby is teaching R numbers in tamil. So, here is R’s attempt at it:

Onni, enni, muni, nani, aani, ….the rest upto number nine is met with silence. As soon as you say ombodu…

R: pattiii….(with a triumphant look)

Amma: Plane eppidi pogum? (how does the plane go)
R: da-da-da (he says paeim for plane)
Amma: car eppidi pogum?
R: da-da-da
Amma: Bike/auto (any other vehicle) epidi pogum?
R: da-da-da


Shake off the hangover

The world cup frenzy continues unabated four days after the historic day. Cricket, yet again, has succeeded in igniting the patriotic flame. I cannot deny the pride and happiness that is associated with the victory. It is a matter of great pride and the Indian cricket team must be lauded for its effort and performance. Yet, we, in our obsession for the game, cannot overlook the larger picture. The in-the-face scams and scandals that are making a mockery of democracy and governance cannot be wished away or brushed under the carpet of a world-cup victory.

Time and again cricket matches have been used as crutches to create an “all izz well” atmosphere. During the pre-finals, corrupt leaders, yet again, made cricket a platform for initiating a mock peace campaign between two-warring nations. After being the initiator of series of such campaigns and then being victimized by terror attacks that were executed with even greater vengeance post such peace-making, even a child will catch the jo…