The title aptly applies to my family. Over the years, with Dad's transferable job, we have moving lock stock and barrel every 2-5 years. Despite going through the same emotions everytime, the feeling is not nice when your home can be packed into a truck in 12 hours flat!
This time it is different. It may be the last move for Dad and Mum as he is retiring (unless i am rich enof to afford a home for them near mine or afford a home big enof to trouble them into living with me!). And i will not be moving.
Everything around me is changing- each day something 0r the other go... today the car is sold off, i will be forced out of home tomm, old books & papers will be sold off day after, the packers will be coming home to assess the furniture..blah blah blah...
Coming days will be exciting, trying and depressing too...and till such time i will be back to stress eating (i noticed i am gobbling up 2 sev puris a day and i jus cannot control my appetite)
(i shall patiently respond to all the comments once the brain is free. At present i have left it at home to do logistics for my shifting)
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Home Sweet Home
[Warning- Long post ahead]
The past few days have had me waking up with a dream of Veliveed- my maternal ancestral house. With the superwoman talking abt Delhi-5 and Mathew’s antics at kudumbaprarthana, taking us on a trip down their memory lane, both of which I identify with, I thought I shall also follow suit.
Veliveed is thankfully not the family name but a name coined by my cousin J. Many years back when J’s was a cute little boy and shifting with his family he called the house which had Ammachi and Appachan and which was bigger- Veliyaveed and his house which was smaller as Kunjuveed. Soon the name shortened to became Veliveed and that became the official name of the ancestral house. Velliveed is very strategically located- on a slope with a graveyard on its right (meaning some of the neighbours were perennially (in high) spirits!).
Veliveed takes maximum space in my ‘childhood’ drive. Summer holidays for us was all about trying our best to reach there by April 14 which was Appachan’s birthdays. Going to Trichur was the best incentive to study hard for the exams and just get over with it. Once we reach Trichur railway station, one of Mum’s four brothers, sometimes joined by one of her 4 cousin brothers would be there to receive us. The usual blahs exchanged btw uncles and Chech & Me- ‘ooh englishkaarigal vannu’, ‘paandiigal koolichattu indalvilla’. But what I always looked forward to- was driving into the porch of Velliveed to find Appachan on his rocking chair (a gift which is still intact) and Ammachi standing by his side. The innumerable times I have gone there, the scene was the same. And that to me is the best reception one can get, because I believe that is a sign which shows that someone is waiting for u, rather than the normal knocking at a closed door.
Every room in Veliveed had a name- Office room (the drawing room which was over-maintained, if I cud say and where kids’ entry was banned), Appachan’s room, Appachan’s bathroom (which was not a pvt bathroom as the name might suggests), Appachan’s shaving room (which was actually a bedroom, but Appachan kept his ‘cosmetics’), kunjuroom(which served the purpose of an attic and was my fav room), veliyaroom (the master bedroom which every uncle used when he got married till the next uncle got married). The cupboards in Veeliveed had secrets of my Mum and uncles and aunts. Baby boots knit for my mother, Uncle R’s flowery shirts and bell bottom pants (he considered himself a hippie back in the 70s), Uncles S’s school uniform (which Ammachi was insistent that cousin J wear it when he joined the same school after 15 years), innumerable lemonade sets given as wedding gifts given to aunts and uncles, etc.
Veliveed also had some other characters whom I identify with that house- Anankuttycheduthi- a caretaker and the governess to all the 7 children and their children, Vaasettan (short for Vaasu chettan), Appachan’s trusted chauffer, Achamacheduthi- who came to do the laundry and Kurumba, who came home for lunch everyday as she had no family. Some interesting neighbors too- Major Uncle, Lucy Aunty (who has green fingers and could even revive a dead plant), Saramaunty and her son Hawkins Chettan! (yes that was his official name and I used to tease him by the popular brand)
With Appachans heart attack, the office was shifted to Veeliveed- a makeshift arrangement on the terrace. Once the business grew, the terrace was converted into the office. Slowly the uncles started moving out into their own little homes. After Appachans death, Ammachi moved in with my aunt to the old Kunjuveed. And we say the ‘tharavadu moves with Ammachi’ (like the aircraft US Prez Flies becomes Air Force One-remember the last dialogue in the movie Air Force One) So Kunjuveed is the ancestral home now.
The bigger business needed a bigger office and once temporary make shift office in the terrace took over the entire house. Veliveed is now, if I can call the ‘corporate office’ of my uncles’ business. Although I was personally not very happy about, I also do not look at my uncles with malice for taking this decision. Afterall I have no claim or entitlement to that property (showing off little legal knowledge..ha!)- but only memories.
The last time I visited Trichur, about 2 ½ years ago, I requested my uncle to take me to Velliveed (before it was converted to the office). Along with me was Ammachi, Mum, Aunt and her kids. Most of the things in the house were still intact. I picked up an old wall hanging- Ammachi said J uncle got it from Japan on his visit for a tournament. I picked up a lock- Ammachi said it was the basic form a number lock made about 30 years back. She then told me everything in this house has a story to tell and I could sense her sorrow, but being the practical woman she is, she doesn’t block business decisions. As a token of remembrance, I took my mother’s gold medal which decorated the ‘Office room showcase’ and a face of Christ, made out of welded metal.
I have not been to Kerala after that visit, but when I see the Christ hung on the wall of my present house (i.e when I am not thinking about sickness, exam results, job security etc) I am reminded of the times spent at Veeliveed.
Sometimes I wonder- Mum showed us her childhood, her life through our summer vacations in Veeliveed. But what will Chech show Iz?- Apartments in metro cities???
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Resolutions
The year started with me at 62.5 kgs and it is ending on a bloated note too.
The year was an important one in my life- my LLM, my first job, my first business card, my one and only convocation and my one and only niece- Isabel (towards the end of the year).
This was the year of travel- UK, Netherlands, Germany, Brussels, France, Monte Carlo [was I at London School of Eco or Lets See Europe!!??!!!]
This is also the year where I saw nearly 50 % if my friends and all cousins younger than me get married and pregnant.
Next year i am hoping we will all come out 0f the financial crisis as stronger & humble individuals.
Till then to all my relatives, friends and acquaintences who are worrying abt my 'unmarried' status- "This is the year of recession and i am trying to cut costs. No unnecessary expenditure this year..."
A Happy, Healthy and Posperous New year to one and all....
The year was an important one in my life- my LLM, my first job, my first business card, my one and only convocation and my one and only niece- Isabel (towards the end of the year).
This was the year of travel- UK, Netherlands, Germany, Brussels, France, Monte Carlo [was I at London School of Eco or Lets See Europe!!??!!!]
This is also the year where I saw nearly 50 % if my friends and all cousins younger than me get married and pregnant.
Next year i am hoping we will all come out 0f the financial crisis as stronger & humble individuals.
Till then to all my relatives, friends and acquaintences who are worrying abt my 'unmarried' status- "This is the year of recession and i am trying to cut costs. No unnecessary expenditure this year..."
A Happy, Healthy and Posperous New year to one and all....
Monday, December 15, 2008
Izz est arrivé
Baby Iz arrived today...
meaning my 'baby'-status at home has been snatched away from me...but Iz is someone for whom i was always ready to give up the status..
So presenting the new kid on the block....Ms Isabelle Jose (a.k.a Izzy/ Iz)......she sure seems like someone who is going to break the hearts of many young worthy men!!
PS: Iz and Eljo are doing good. thank u all of you for praying for them
meaning my 'baby'-status at home has been snatched away from me...but Iz is someone for whom i was always ready to give up the status..
So presenting the new kid on the block....Ms Isabelle Jose (a.k.a Izzy/ Iz)......she sure seems like someone who is going to break the hearts of many young worthy men!!
PS: Iz and Eljo are doing good. thank u all of you for praying for them
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
When IZZZ she gonna come???
We will soon touch another milestone....
Chech supposedly feels like a jumbo jet. Chettan drinks cerelac-tini, served in a chilled glass [shaken not stirred]. Mommie dearest is now with Chech. Dad, otherwise anti-baby man, now acknowledges presence of other stranger babies who are next to him in public places. I am dreading the name i will be called [Aunty...aunty...aunty.....]. This blog turned pink be hoping it would be a girl....
Short point, we are all waiting for u Iz! :~D (praying for your safe landing)
Saturday, October 04, 2008
The journey back home….
Yay 2 posts a day!!!!
Warning- verbal diarrhoea ahead!
I was progressively delaying this post and it just could not have been more ill-timed because it has been nearly 4 months since I am back home and 2 pay cheques down ($$$$$ :~D ). Some of my blog friends will by now be aware of the fact that I am terribly prone to trouble in the airport and this is the mother of all such situations!!!
4 months ago, as part of finishing my exams (and I am still praying for my results and I request all of you to do the same), my dearest Chech and Chettan decided to treat me with a trip to the French Riviera and yes the place is beautiful and I would love to marry a rich old man who has a villa in Nice (but full and half monty by old uncles/aunties is NOT fun!)
After 5 days of fun in the sun and a nice tanned look (read ‘karambi’ or ‘kaliya’ for the Malayalam challenged) it was time to head back to London and after a day of packing, back to India and my lease agreement with the uni residence was terminating the day after. Ordinarily, I wud take a flight out of Amsterdam and reach London in 2 hrs after munching on the boring oatmeal cookies that British Airways provides. This time, being my last trip to Amsterdam for sometime, the ill-famed adventurous side took over and I was choosing between a train or a FERRY!!(thank god the ferry idea didn’t materialise) Now Annie McBeal saved 50pounds (eer…it was her father who actually saved the money-sorry dad) and booked tickets on the Eurostar on their summer plan, thinking she can see the deep blue English Channel ala Singapore SeaWorld style!
Amsterdam
So journey began on a tram in Amsterdam, which Chettan and I caught after beating Usain Bolt’s Olympic record time. Hopping on the next train to Schipol was also at record time and it was the last train from Amsterdam that wud reach Brussels in time for my next train! The only time we were ever on time was to take the nice NS train to Brussels.
Belgium
Sitting in NS train Chettan and I discuss on topics ranging from worldly wisdom to mallu stardom, choosing between oysters or moules for lunch and salivating at the thought of it. At Brussels Zuid- happy-thinking-about-moules me gets up to find….TADA!!
A STOLEN BAG!!... so what!!
Eer..the bag had my passport, bank cards, college id, return to London tickets, clothes, postcards from Nice, my favourite skirt, fake brasil hawaiana chappals and my pen drive with lots of fotos. So how does it feel to be in a country without your identification documents? Very nice I say- because I still had a smaller bag in which I had my camera and ipod!!...
Hey Bag-flicker-dude u attacked the WRONG bag and the passenger next to me had a laptop in his bag.
Chettan and I are among the few priviledged citizen who have seen the interiors of the Indian Embassy, Brussels. At first, they laughed when I said I lost my passport and I don’t have a fotocopy of it either…I am Ann..please believe me. Then the google search on Indian government website happens and after 15 minutes the lady came out with a paper and started asking me questions-
1) What is ur name?- Ann Mcbeal
2) Spell ur father’s name- Za…… (my father has a name that is nt easy for most non malayalee or non-westerner to pronounce)
Passing that difficult exam, I ws given a certificate saying yes I am an Indian and YES India will take me back.
I guess all of u might have experienced this- sometimes it is in the worst times that u find ur dream fantasies coming true. Now everyone is aware of my extreme respect (*ahem) for men in uniform. So when u have the hottest-policeman-i-have-seen-till-date attending to ur case, u can understand why the FIR was drafted by me was in shoddy shape. Inspectuer Nick Noël, with the biceps ripping out of his uniform (he has a proportionate body mind u!), armed with a pistol in the holster and handcuffs on his belt and to top it all- a smooth talker and a charmer and genuinely good-looking…sigh! (I wished that things would go forward like Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in Speed..but alas!
With a shoddy FIR in hand and leaving Nick Noel behind, we ran back to the embassy to be issued a passport hot from the lamination press at 1745 hrs (15 minutes before the embassy closed for the day)!....chood chood passport! All said and done, I needed to get back to the UK to pack my things and move out of Europe-but minor problem- No UK VISA!!!
For some strange reason the British peoples think that they have to sit in a secured fort-like the Tower of London in every other country and they call such forts- UK Embassy! To prevent any non-british person from seeking justice/mercy/kindness or showing anger/frustration before the embassy, it is secured by towering gates I am told. So all we can do is make a fone call on the next day –
Ann- “Hi, I am ann, I am a student in London, blah blah…bag…blah blah stolen…sniff..i need to get back to London to pack and leave London for good!..if delayed I will not have a place to stay in London ”
Embassy ‘helpline’(bull crap!) lady- “Give me your number and I will tell the embassy to get back in touch with u”
Ann- “WHAT!!!...okay thank u so much for ur help”
With no call in the next 60 minutes, came brother-in-law’s last attempt at sending me across the English Channel- We reach the Eurostar counter and the UK Immigration Border and stage our Academy Award winning performance. So moved were they by our acting that the immigration lawyer gave me a 2 month UK visa and Eurostar gave me a free ride on the ticket which expired. (The cost of the ticket was 350 pounds on the day of my travel!!!)
London
Soon I was on the train to London, sitting next to a political journalist writing about Communism. And then the tunnel came- time for SeaWorld-ish view. But what I saw was a dark tunnel for 20 long minutes!!! The next 16 hours were spent clearing out my bank accounts, returning library books, packing everything and moving lock, stock and barrel out of Covent Garden to Heathrow. The 17th hour I was back on the India bound flight enjoying chicken tikka.
Ab Mumbai door nahi….
Points to note:
1) Always keep fotocopies of ur travel docs in all ur bags and with some close relative and soft copies too.
2) If stolen, after getting a passport try to ask the airways if anything (other than getting a new visa) can be done when transiting through countries.
3) The Europeans are quite understanding when u have a genuine cause.
4) Nick Noel is still my fantasy man. I even tried looking up for him on facebook (sheeesh!).
5) The UK Embassy at Brussels have still not contacted me.
6) It was not nice being stuck in Belgium without a visa to go to London or closer still Amsterdam.
7) If I had taken the flight out, I would not have had this trouble but may be some other trouble.
8) During our mad running around, I cursed the bag-flicker-dude, saying may his days from now be bad- to which Chettan replied- ever since he flicked ur bag his worst days have anyway began- WHY?- the bag mostly had only soiled clothes!!!
9) Had it not been for Chettan and the his company’s Brussels team, may be by now I would have been married to a Belgian and making waffles and frites in Grote Markt for a living. Thank you all of you.
10) If anyone of u sees an Indian woman on a ‘magazine’ in any of ‘the’ shops in Brussels or Playboy (if I am lucky) please do notify me- my pen drive had a back up copy of all my fotos. [u can compare the mag cover with my pic on the side of the blog]
11) Nick Noel….sigh!
Warning- verbal diarrhoea ahead!
I was progressively delaying this post and it just could not have been more ill-timed because it has been nearly 4 months since I am back home and 2 pay cheques down ($$$$$ :~D ). Some of my blog friends will by now be aware of the fact that I am terribly prone to trouble in the airport and this is the mother of all such situations!!!
4 months ago, as part of finishing my exams (and I am still praying for my results and I request all of you to do the same), my dearest Chech and Chettan decided to treat me with a trip to the French Riviera and yes the place is beautiful and I would love to marry a rich old man who has a villa in Nice (but full and half monty by old uncles/aunties is NOT fun!)
After 5 days of fun in the sun and a nice tanned look (read ‘karambi’ or ‘kaliya’ for the Malayalam challenged) it was time to head back to London and after a day of packing, back to India and my lease agreement with the uni residence was terminating the day after. Ordinarily, I wud take a flight out of Amsterdam and reach London in 2 hrs after munching on the boring oatmeal cookies that British Airways provides. This time, being my last trip to Amsterdam for sometime, the ill-famed adventurous side took over and I was choosing between a train or a FERRY!!(thank god the ferry idea didn’t materialise) Now Annie McBeal saved 50pounds (eer…it was her father who actually saved the money-sorry dad) and booked tickets on the Eurostar on their summer plan, thinking she can see the deep blue English Channel ala Singapore SeaWorld style!
Amsterdam
So journey began on a tram in Amsterdam, which Chettan and I caught after beating Usain Bolt’s Olympic record time. Hopping on the next train to Schipol was also at record time and it was the last train from Amsterdam that wud reach Brussels in time for my next train! The only time we were ever on time was to take the nice NS train to Brussels.
Belgium
Sitting in NS train Chettan and I discuss on topics ranging from worldly wisdom to mallu stardom, choosing between oysters or moules for lunch and salivating at the thought of it. At Brussels Zuid- happy-thinking-about-moules me gets up to find….TADA!!
A STOLEN BAG!!... so what!!
Eer..the bag had my passport, bank cards, college id, return to London tickets, clothes, postcards from Nice, my favourite skirt, fake brasil hawaiana chappals and my pen drive with lots of fotos. So how does it feel to be in a country without your identification documents? Very nice I say- because I still had a smaller bag in which I had my camera and ipod!!...
Hey Bag-flicker-dude u attacked the WRONG bag and the passenger next to me had a laptop in his bag.
Chettan and I are among the few priviledged citizen who have seen the interiors of the Indian Embassy, Brussels. At first, they laughed when I said I lost my passport and I don’t have a fotocopy of it either…I am Ann..please believe me. Then the google search on Indian government website happens and after 15 minutes the lady came out with a paper and started asking me questions-
1) What is ur name?- Ann Mcbeal
2) Spell ur father’s name- Za…… (my father has a name that is nt easy for most non malayalee or non-westerner to pronounce)
Passing that difficult exam, I ws given a certificate saying yes I am an Indian and YES India will take me back.
I guess all of u might have experienced this- sometimes it is in the worst times that u find ur dream fantasies coming true. Now everyone is aware of my extreme respect (*ahem) for men in uniform. So when u have the hottest-policeman-i-have-seen-till-date attending to ur case, u can understand why the FIR was drafted by me was in shoddy shape. Inspectuer Nick Noël, with the biceps ripping out of his uniform (he has a proportionate body mind u!), armed with a pistol in the holster and handcuffs on his belt and to top it all- a smooth talker and a charmer and genuinely good-looking…sigh! (I wished that things would go forward like Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in Speed..but alas!
With a shoddy FIR in hand and leaving Nick Noel behind, we ran back to the embassy to be issued a passport hot from the lamination press at 1745 hrs (15 minutes before the embassy closed for the day)!....chood chood passport! All said and done, I needed to get back to the UK to pack my things and move out of Europe-but minor problem- No UK VISA!!!
For some strange reason the British peoples think that they have to sit in a secured fort-like the Tower of London in every other country and they call such forts- UK Embassy! To prevent any non-british person from seeking justice/mercy/kindness or showing anger/frustration before the embassy, it is secured by towering gates I am told. So all we can do is make a fone call on the next day –
Ann- “Hi, I am ann, I am a student in London, blah blah…bag…blah blah stolen…sniff..i need to get back to London to pack and leave London for good!..if delayed I will not have a place to stay in London ”
Embassy ‘helpline’(bull crap!) lady- “Give me your number and I will tell the embassy to get back in touch with u”
Ann- “WHAT!!!...okay thank u so much for ur help”
With no call in the next 60 minutes, came brother-in-law’s last attempt at sending me across the English Channel- We reach the Eurostar counter and the UK Immigration Border and stage our Academy Award winning performance. So moved were they by our acting that the immigration lawyer gave me a 2 month UK visa and Eurostar gave me a free ride on the ticket which expired. (The cost of the ticket was 350 pounds on the day of my travel!!!)
London
Soon I was on the train to London, sitting next to a political journalist writing about Communism. And then the tunnel came- time for SeaWorld-ish view. But what I saw was a dark tunnel for 20 long minutes!!! The next 16 hours were spent clearing out my bank accounts, returning library books, packing everything and moving lock, stock and barrel out of Covent Garden to Heathrow. The 17th hour I was back on the India bound flight enjoying chicken tikka.
Ab Mumbai door nahi….
Points to note:
1) Always keep fotocopies of ur travel docs in all ur bags and with some close relative and soft copies too.
2) If stolen, after getting a passport try to ask the airways if anything (other than getting a new visa) can be done when transiting through countries.
3) The Europeans are quite understanding when u have a genuine cause.
4) Nick Noel is still my fantasy man. I even tried looking up for him on facebook (sheeesh!).
5) The UK Embassy at Brussels have still not contacted me.
6) It was not nice being stuck in Belgium without a visa to go to London or closer still Amsterdam.
7) If I had taken the flight out, I would not have had this trouble but may be some other trouble.
8) During our mad running around, I cursed the bag-flicker-dude, saying may his days from now be bad- to which Chettan replied- ever since he flicked ur bag his worst days have anyway began- WHY?- the bag mostly had only soiled clothes!!!
9) Had it not been for Chettan and the his company’s Brussels team, may be by now I would have been married to a Belgian and making waffles and frites in Grote Markt for a living. Thank you all of you.
10) If anyone of u sees an Indian woman on a ‘magazine’ in any of ‘the’ shops in Brussels or Playboy (if I am lucky) please do notify me- my pen drive had a back up copy of all my fotos. [u can compare the mag cover with my pic on the side of the blog]
11) Nick Noel….sigh!
Red Light Management
* title courtesy AJ's firm's new project
Dear youngster-on-the-pulsar-near-portuguese-church-at-10:45, 4/10/2008.
Sometimes there are many things in life that are more important than waiting at the red light. Dude that light wasn’t put there so that some men and women can solicit business under it at night. It has a purpose and that is to save your life and the lives of everyone around. Today morning u couldn’t wait for 3 minutes to get a green signal. Had my cab not been 5 seconds late, any/all of us could have been injured/dead or worse crippled for life. I know u r smart enough to know that my cab was approaching late, but sometimes things don’t go as planned. One of your drunk friends has already run into a friend of mine last week and he is already stitched up and hence I am pissed off with ur kind especially today. Hope u will pay some heed to this…
Regards
Girl-in-cab-in-the-opposite-direction
[After learning what happened to Alexis Leon a.k.a Alex Chettan, red-light-jumpers, as I call them, make me want to chain them up to a red light without food or water]
Dear youngster-on-the-pulsar-near-portuguese-church-at-10:45, 4/10/2008.
Sometimes there are many things in life that are more important than waiting at the red light. Dude that light wasn’t put there so that some men and women can solicit business under it at night. It has a purpose and that is to save your life and the lives of everyone around. Today morning u couldn’t wait for 3 minutes to get a green signal. Had my cab not been 5 seconds late, any/all of us could have been injured/dead or worse crippled for life. I know u r smart enough to know that my cab was approaching late, but sometimes things don’t go as planned. One of your drunk friends has already run into a friend of mine last week and he is already stitched up and hence I am pissed off with ur kind especially today. Hope u will pay some heed to this…
Regards
Girl-in-cab-in-the-opposite-direction
[After learning what happened to Alexis Leon a.k.a Alex Chettan, red-light-jumpers, as I call them, make me want to chain them up to a red light without food or water]
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Week 1-3 Excitment to Dejection
Week 1-3
The excitement of the new job has waned away..these days I only feel stupid…I correct my previous statement- I no longer want to ‘prove my worth’ but just want to know WHAT am I supposed to do and HOW!!???!!!
Sitting in a dejected mood after failing the 3,4, 5th senior in office and most importantly MYSELF :~( :~(
A ray of optimism- hope these days will soon be over...
The excitement of the new job has waned away..these days I only feel stupid…I correct my previous statement- I no longer want to ‘prove my worth’ but just want to know WHAT am I supposed to do and HOW!!???!!!
Sitting in a dejected mood after failing the 3,4, 5th senior in office and most importantly MYSELF :~( :~(
A ray of optimism- hope these days will soon be over...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
