anN-series

Gourmet

2011-06-09T12:01:00.001+01:00

With food, i have the habit of making things sound more fancy than it actually is (especially when i am cooking it and nobody can see what i cooked! :~P ). I blame it on my recent TV viewing.

I watch TopChef, Hells Kitchen, MasterChef- Australia, India, USA, UK, Ina Garten, Nigella Lawson with thorough dedication. The pan fried seabass with potato pate or the lambchops with salad of grilled garden vegetables or the baked bread pudding with vanilla ice-cream inspire me. I then head to my humble kitchen and think creative and inevitably end up making different versions (purely by accident) of the same thing: Slow cooked thick creamy oats (aka porridge)..some days its just Slow Cooked Oats (when i add extra water and it gets all runny) or Burnt Creamy Oats (when i forget to pour the water/milk in time!!) or Burnt AND Runny Oats...but still when i tell people that i had Slow cooked thick creamy oats ppl think that i had breakfast at a five star hotel :~D

[Image courtesy: theginlady.com]

But the other day this is what happend:

Me (feeling exuberant that my science project in the kitchent was successful)- Guess what...today my sandwich was highly appreciated by my colleagues in office..

Boy- Oh that is very good ...so what did u make?

Me (trying to sound like the winner of Master Chef UK)- I made brown bread sandwich with chicken in marinara sauce and alfa alfa sprouts.

Boy- What??...Kaunsa sandwich?

Me (losing patience but still trying to remain calm)- Its a sandwich and the filling was chicken in marinara sauce and alfa alfa sprouts....!!

Boy- How is this food? (!?!!)

Me (loses cool and all sense of sophistication in accent)- Maine salaaad banaya tha...with left over chicken and vegetables and sprouts in the redwala pasta sauce. Then i put it between 2 slices of bread which is brown in color!!!!

Boy- Oh...so call it a Chicken sandwich...what is with all the marina..alpha centre sprouts!!!

I learnt my lesson.

Dedicated to all out there who know the humble Idli as steamed rice and lentil dumplings served with spicy lentil soup and a dollop of coconut chutney flavored with mint :~p

2011-06-06T10:42:00.000+01:00

Ok so i have been absent from this space for QUITE sometime..no excuses this time...it was plain old laziness and bad time management.

For some reason this year the monsoons, which generally puts me in a laz-'ier' disposition, have charged me up to take up some interesting intiatives (interesting only from my prespective!). Why blogging after a two year gap one may wonder- i am now a senior...i DELEGATE work..(Muhahahahhaaaa)

An attempt will be made to feature the following activites on my blog:

(a) Eat. Prey. Love - This will largely be my science projects in the kitchen. My take on cooking with imagination. Why is this lawyer-chick doing 'another food blog' when we have enough and more good blogs-one may think- Simple..its for me to chronicle whatever i cooked (rather attempted to cook), so that when i run short of imagination, i know where to look. So the idea is to Eat the Prey identified for that meal and hopefully Love what i make.

(b) Reality Bites - My smart and charming neighbour S put forth the idea of creating a list some what on the lines of a 'bucket-list' with respect to a city. Now her idea is before you leave a city, prepare a list of all the things you want to do in that city. Much to the neighbour's surprise, the only thing yours truly wanted to do was go to restaurants and eat!!! So the city identified is Maximum City and Reality Bites will mostly be about the food paradises and food hells explored in the city. The food will be rated on the basis of the emotion trigged in my mind. The classification will be as follows:

           (i) Orgasmic- wen the food is SOOOOO good that u see me banging the tables in delight :~D
           (ii) Heavenly- wen the food is SOOO good that i feel at peace inside :~)
           (iii) Down to earth- wen the food is such that they should be buried down to the earth :~(

(c) Miscellaneous- Attempts will also be made revive the regular BS that i used to dish out here.

I hope to stay regular...but only time will tell...

Just tucked in some divine mutton dhansak and cutlets for lunch today- courtesy the secretary!...and btw did u know that its sleep inducing...zzzz....zzzzzz..zzzzzzz......

Blinking Red

2011-01-04T13:37:00.003Z

A blinking red light warns us about an impending danger, be it a police van, any electrical equipment or for that matter our very own BBs!!!

Every time the red light flashes, my heart skips a beat. MS Outlook does not have the same intimidating effect…may be because, unlike the BB, I have restricted my access to MS Outlook to 11 hrs of the day.

Given below is my reaction through the day on not finding the flashing red light:

Wake up - HAPPY
Before leaving for office -how is this possible!!! is there a problem with the e-mails??
Before leaving for home- Cool..i am such a dedicated associate..finished all assignments :~)
Before going to bed - Good I can sleep in peace
5 minutes after going to bed - how is this possible!!! is there a problem with the e-mails??

No matter how engrossed one is in an assignment, that small flash of red is sufficient to distract anyone. I was getting ‘advised’ (read reprimanded) for not honing my observation skills to a 11 (on a scale of 10!!!) Then played the BBpro_Sanguine in the background and followed by the small flash of red. It made me so uncomfortable that I succumbed to the temptation and checked the phone and my senior dismissed (read chucked out) me from the room. Irony!! I should have been lauded for my observation skills!!! I observed the small flashing red light!

I Like

2010-05-12T14:26:00.000+01:00

… the warm sunlight hitting my bed in the morning.

… crossing 2 km on the treadmill.

... getting wet in the rain on my way back to the gym.

… the wind in my just washed-hair on my way to office.

… putting my face out of the car while travelling through Bandra Worli Sea link.

… tucking in Naturals Mango ice cream on a bored afternoon in office.

… full sleeves on formal shirts and wide neckline on civils.

… chick-flick on a Thursday night, sitcoms on other nights.

… salsa class with Y and N on Sunday.

… cheerful music in the morning and blues in the evening on FM Gold.

… 3 teaspoon sugar and ginger and lots of milk in my tea.

… long chats with friends at night.

Anything out of order, I dislike. No wonder they say girls so finicky!!! :~

April Syndrome

2010-04-27T12:11:00.002+01:00

There is something about April. I still haven’t been able to sort out my feelings for this month. It is ‘mixed emotions’ month.

The beginning of the month is good with the appraisals (at least for the last 2 years) and high which follows seeing the bank account ;~) and the planning for extravagance in the coming year. Then as the month rolls its time for re-location or re-organisation on the professional front and/or personal front. It is the time when one sees location and relationship status updates of one’s friends and acquaintances on Facebook. Leave & license agreements terminate or transfer orders are received. People formalize their relationship status and get engaged hoping to get a 7 month head-start in preparing for the big fat Indian wedding. (what they don’t understand is that is that everybody else follows the same game plan and the head start does not serve any purpose). Adding to the ‘fun’ is the infamous Indian summer in its top form draining out every ounce of energy, patience and sanity in me.

April (since birth-1987) – I never really had to do anything but for smile, sing a nursery rhyme and shake my booty when my parents wanted to show off their child’s talent at a gathering. I think I just wailed and got my things done.

April (1988-2002-in school) – Exam time!!! Need I say anymore!! But holidays began by the middle of the month and it was time to head off to kerala.

April (2002-2007- in law school)- First half of the month (like every semester in law school) we didn’t know what we were doing. Second half was spent in collecting notes for the impending exams in May.

April (2008- grad school)- In the first half my folks visited NL and we headed off for a mini trip to Paris and Brussels with Chech and Chettan. Back from the trip, I saw the syllabus and realized I should have started studying from January to clear my exams!!

April (2009- work)- Last April I moved out of home. The feeling was not very great initially. I moved in with a friend of a friend of a friend (typical mallu me!)- Nidhi from Delhi. When I moved in she had already planned her life for the coming year, she wanted to move back to Delhi by April next year and get married to a guy she had identified by winter 2010. I seriously thought that she not in the best frame of mind as she was missing her family while she was alone. Over time I learnt to appreciate the independence, luxury and the responsibility, demerits of living alone. With Nidhi coincidently there is a strange connection- we are the same person..upto 90% (10%- she is more motivated than me and has common sense!)... there are times when we both would think the same thing at the same time. The next one year saw me enjoying vegetarian food (and never missing non-vegetarian food), becoming better dressed and learning about the plumbing, electricity and other essential things in a house that has to be taken care of. With Nidhi came her band of friends who I really enjoyed having over or visiting and have had some real fun times. We both are chronic commentators, we have to pass a comment on anything on TV or movie hall. During our movie phase, every weekend we tagged a friend of hers T to the movie hall as a chaperon. Once in the movie hall, Nidhi and I would commence our running commentary on the movie while T would tell us to shut up! So much so we once ended up confessing that when either one of us is not home, we end up commenting to ourselves!!

April 2010- March gave me a tough time with work as I was putting upto 16 hours a day coupled with travel. With April came the appraisal and so I was in the ecstatic mood. I was hardly home, and could not really catch up on what was happening at Nidhi’s end. What I thought was a passing phase was actually a resolute decision. As destiny has planned out things along with concerted efforts from her end, Nidhi got a transfer to Delhi and her parents gladly agreed to her choice of guy - a news which I got when I returned home at half past 2 in the morning (it is really not the best time to break news which has a powerful impact!!). What then followed was a 3 night marathon bachelor party, the final one being on a MONDAY NIGHT at our favorite watering hole...Following day Nidhi was packed off to Delhi-lock stock and barrel.
Nidhi is getting married tomorrow. (slight change in plans by folks- wedding in winter 2010 has become wedding in summer 2010) I couldn’t have been happier for her. I am now on the hunt for a roommate. I hope it will not be difficult for the new person to step into Nidhi’s shoes. All the best for you life Nidhi and please look ravishing on ur D-day and after that too.

PS- April saw a low at the professional front- but I think 3 shots of watermelon juice has made me feel better.

April also saw 3 of my friends get engaged- I was pleasantly surprised by 2 and shocked beyond belief by 1. I wish you all patience and piece of mind while running amok organizing ur wedding.

April is also seeing my neighbors leave for far away place…Am I the only one with nothing worthwhile happening in my life!!!

…time to update the CV on linkedin!! :~P

Arranged Madness- I

2010-04-09T15:39:00.003+01:00

So after eons I visited this l’il space of mine and saw that it is nearly ONE YEAR since I wrote anything. The reasons attributed for the absence are

Laziness

Long hours in office

Long hours sitting blank in meetings

Long hours dozing in flights

Laziness

Annie McBeal has been playing her part for nearly 2 years now. She has made some companies/individuals rich, her firm rich (a little) and herself also (reasonably) rich. In the process she has also driven lot many people mad with her queries, requisition lists and fast pace of talking. Now that there is (exponential ?!) growth on the professional end, it is time for growth on the personal end.

No bragging, my profession makes me spend all my waking hours at work. And there is no fixed time as to when the day begins or when the day ends. So with such work life imbalance (if I may say so), my luck with guys continues the way it was while I was in college or grad school. Over the last 2 years the scenario has been like this:

Scene 1- Ann meets people in a get together. Ann gets chatting with a guy.
Ann- ….hahaha..(trying to impress guy with her smile and fluttering eyelashes)…
Boy- its really nice talking to you….(phone rings)….ya baby…Sorry my girlfriend is calling…excuse me…be right back… K
They never come back!! :~

Scene 2- Ann works on a transaction where she gets into heated arguments with the other side lawyer. She then goes to a meeting, all charged up to bash up the lawyer. Meets the lawyer…he is a cute guy!!! And then has trouble acting aggressive in front of the cute guy. End result the deal closes, everyone is happy...Ann gets chatting with the cute guy… then her senior calls her into his cabin and says
Senior- Ann, remember the deal we did, well the clients are not on good terms now…we are gonna have tough time seeing them fight. You do understand what I am trying to convey, right?Ann- Yup! (storms out of the room)
Ann had to cut all ties with the cute guy!! :~(

With time (along with my youthful looks :P) running out, the stage is set for (drumrolls) *Arranged Marriage*

Arranged marriage as I see it is like entering into a joint venture arrangement. The parents carry a letter of intent (LOI), scouting for a suitable strategic partner for their child. Once an interested party is identified and the preliminary (commercial) points agreed upon, the parents and relatives do a due diligence on the prospective groom and bride. Instead of PwC or E&Y it is Kochuteresia ammai or Chackochayan who does the diligence check. Once the report prepared, disclosures made and risks estimated and understood, the parents decide to get the children to enter into a ‘formal’ arrangement in the parish church at 12:05 pm on a Sunday, followed by a sumptuous lunch in the parish hall or * hotel.

My family is presently in the LOI stage and preparation of this is NOT an easy task. My escapades in this arranged madness will be a regular feature here and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

First task is THE FOTO. The first impression is the best impression; irrespective of the fact that fotoshop did all the work. Softly lit background, woman (dressed in an outfit which she might never wear) standing with the support of a pillar and staring blankly in a direction which is NOT the direction of the camera. NOW THAT’S A MATRIMONIAL PIC!!! I look old’er’ and chubb‘ier’ in pose-y pics. Numerous explanations on the logic why a ‘normal everyday’ pic should be uploaded have fallen on deaf ears. Neither my folks nor I were ready to give up our stand. So we reached a compromise. I know have a formal posey pic taken- but my chubby cheeks and aging looks have been taken care of….here take a look!

Change is the only constant

2009-04-04T07:53:00.002+01:00

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)

Home Sweet Home

2009-02-10T16:11:00.003Z

[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???

Resolutions

2008-12-31T12:30:00.002Z

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....

Izz est arrivé

2008-12-15T09:17:00.003Z

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

When IZZZ she gonna come???

2008-12-02T11:36:00.003Z

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)

The journey back home….

2008-10-04T12:23:00.001+01:00

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!

Red Light Management

2008-10-04T08:18:00.002+01:00

* 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]

Week 1-3 Excitment to Dejection

2008-09-10T09:00:00.001+01:00

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...

Annie McBeal Vol II.

2008-08-22T05:06:00.002+01:00

I hit myself hard on the back of my head for not paying any attention to this littal space of mine. I have lots to tell...from 'jurisdictional' adventures in Europe to domestic mishaps at home. But for now i am back to my Ann McBeal avtaar- the lawyer lost in a corporate firm, sitting among men speaking in corporate jargons (i am the only other female lawyer in the place :~O, the other feminine touch is a senior with truckloads of knowledge and experience). The expectations from me are high because of the 9 month vacation i had in london and at a personal level- a huge challenge to prove my worth..so once again i take the liberty to ignore this space till i get some spare time (backslap myself again!).

PS I cannot say 'miss me' because i presume by now u have all 'forgotten' me!!
Cheers.....

Fruit of the Womb

2008-07-16T16:33:00.003+01:00

I wanted to write a big bang comeback post or something on the lines of London in hindsight (yes dear peeps I am back in India, it has been over 2 weeks- how I reached is reserved for another post), but recently some news and something I saw flabbergasted me, that I decided to write this.

During the few catechism classes I ever attended in my life and the quick 3 minute family prayer we have at home, I always liked a particular line of ‘Hail Mary’ which goes as follow-
‘Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus’.
Since we pray faster than most Grammy winning rap artists, I thought we were referring to some fruit in the form of a fruit salad rather! It was during another long boring Sunday sermon in church that I opened the hymn book to read what the line actually meant-‘oh JESUS is the fruit!! How unexciting!’ (I was aged 8 then)

Unlike most women who fantasise being pregnant (I know a few of them, so please don’t think I am bull s***ting), child birth has always scared me and it still does. Reasons I don’t know, may be because my first visuals of labour was on Discovery Channel and not Indian movies (where the lady is goes into heavy labour just when her water breaks!) or I read a book on pregnancy before the time was right (it was the only book lying in the loo, sitting there can also bore u). I never really understood wat was so ‘miraculous’ about birth.

Four months back I got news that Chech and Chettan are on their way to make me feel older by making me an aunt. So I kept asking her so does her skin ‘glow’ and is she looking her best, like a huge jumbo jet. Much to my surprise, she, Chettan and me had a paunch of the same size!!! (UK size 14 to be precise) and abt her skin glowing- that was courtesy the humid weather. She herself saying Malaika Arora Khan can say she is looking her best cause she capable of doing nothing other than visiting spas. So wats is the whole deal abt pregnancy, never understood me.

On coming back I got news that Mum was scheduled for a hysterectomy in less than 48 hours (talk abt surprises when u get home- but no I didn’t react like an Ekta Kapoor heroine cause this was expected some day or the other for Mum). She is doing much better and recouping well, thank u very much (after all I am taking care of her!!) After her surgery, a male nurse, with a bottle resembling the Horlick 1kg bottle on tray, emerged out of the OT walking around as if he was a waiter in Sarvana Bhavan serving masala dosa to someone!! In the bottle, swimming in red solution was a fist size ‘thing’, which Dad said was Mum’s UTERUS!!!! My reaction at that point was WHAT THE HELL I LIVED IN THAT FIST SIZED ‘THING’!!! THAT WAS MY FIRST ROOM!!

I manage to get surprised at the thought of that sight even today. After the whole episode my Mum went at great length to explain the entire childbirth process (a little late- cause cousins younger than me are mothers of 1 and 2 year olds and the ‘conception’ part was avoided like every Indian mum! :~P) May be this is the whole ‘miracle’ of birth- not just 2 cells merging with enough data in them to create a whole to life (not just the ‘fun’ part peeps :~P), but how a fist sized organ expands to accommodate some of us who are around 3 kgs at birth, how we hv an egg shaped head at childbirth and how most of us manage to come out the ‘tiny’ hole.

But that still hasn’t reduced my fear of child-birth or have my bawling at the first pics of Baby Eljo (courtesy ultrasound of course- I couldn’t understand anything). Rather to put it in malayam- to think I was once the ‘fruit of a womb (which is sooo small!!)’ njaan sherikum wonder adichu poyi!!

PS busy with mum and dissertation...pliss to be missing me!!

PPS this is in response to Brat's comment- it is not that i lack sex education-i was a bio student, but then practicals is lot different from theory and hence wonder adichu poyi!

Quirkys!

2008-06-05T00:43:00.006+01:00

Just when i finish my first exam i turned PINGGKK.....
and i get a tag!!!..YAYYY!!! Thank u boy!
(okie so i also watched Sex and the City-movie cause everyone went on and on abt it and all i found was 4 women sitting around food[although all of them are in perfect shape!!] talking abt sex or lack of it!!! Sigh-for all that media hype!)

The "rules":
Link the person(s) who tagged you- Brrrraaaattt!!!
Mention the rules on your blog
Mention 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
Tag 6 bloggers by linking them
Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers' blogs letting them know they've been tagged -

1) I need to wash my feet before i sleep and my feet have to be WET when i get into bed!!...(this practice is avoided in Delhi winters where houses do not have radiators)

2) I am over-superstitious during my exams (i guess all of us to an extent are)- this expecially includes not bathing for 48 hours before the exam (i feel i will wash away the crammed up knowledge) and not going to a parlour/saloon for normal clean-ups (in maletalk-thats equivalent to not shaving the entire exam period starting from study holidays) ending up in people seeing only eyebrows on my face on the last day.

3) I need go through my notes atleast 3 times before i head for the exams (otherwise i feel terribly underconfident till i see the question paper) and i am competitve and i am seriously trying to control this.

4) I apply ghee on my hair..yes yes ghee!!..(and it actually works!! although i smell like Sree Krishna Mysore Pak till it is washed)

5) I am an 'extremes' person, if i like a song i will listen it on loop till i delete that song from the computer, if i like something i will eat it till i cant bear to look at it again and the nice flavours will soon be 'odours' :~$

6) I always need to have something to look forward to- some experiment, some randon trip This motivates me (yes i am incentive driven)..current idea is to see the seven wonders of the world over a span of few years (ofcourse) especially Christ the Redeemer (but i know that will have to wait for a loong loong time)

I have no one to tag as all my blog-neighbours have already been tagged :~(

eeh...did i mention that i am impulsive and just recently picked up the scissors and cut my hair just like my sister (i had to get some leftover curly bits). its not that bad..i think i have to apply to toni n guy...hmmmm.....

To market to market....

2008-05-09T20:37:00.012+01:00

Okay yeah i know i have my exams..and this is not my big bang comeback post...but today i am celebrating cause i just wrote a

mock exam and felt good that i could do it. With the exam adrenaline rush, i got into one of my infamous 'adventure' moods

and just left college and headed for Borough Market why because there lived the one character i identify the most in my life- Bridget Jones!!! The place is fiercely expensive (because they are Orrrragahnic!!! or award-winning!!... But me still loves the place...)

Things go fine till i explore the place...
(Ann's thoughts- Aah i can buy these cherries..What the hell i jus paid 2 pounds on 10 '0'

cherries...sigh!..wat can i get for Mum- balsamic vinegar...no..she wont like it- when she

hears the cost!!)

It is lunch time and ....then my adventurous evil twin takes over....
On the lunch menu today is Ostrich Burger and Brazillian Wheatgrass Juice....

(Ann's thoughts- "Wheat grass juice..one shot is a equal to a weeks' greens!!!...Wow i jus ate an ostrich..it aint bad..in fact its actually good....hmm now i jus need to lose 10 kgs to ride on one...")

[Note- me knows me need a manicure..that too a french one, will get tat done soon!! Chech are u listening..err.reading!!]

Post lunch back in my room...

Ann's thoughts- (Aaaarrggg!!!..if only i could puke out this thing...it is making me so SICK!!!....[flush]...aaah watte relief!!! i HATE ostrich!!!)

PS- But i did get my mum the 'finest vanilla pod' from Madagascar ..now to think of all the vanilla ice-creams i am gonna eat:~P

Blog Break...

2008-04-10T22:35:00.003+01:00

Spring is in season...i am in amsterdam, finally learned to travel around this place on my own...visited some lovely fishing and windmill villages, met one of the best tattooist in amsterdam and realised wat a down-to-earth woman she is, was hit at by a middle-aged indian uncle in the sex museum (now i am hardly the kinds who gets a 'look' from a guy, forget even a second look...and wen i do manage to get lucky, its a 35 yr old man and watte choice of location!!!)...was comfortably lazing around with Mum n Dad in town...and then i saw my study materials and passed out...!!!..So a blog break taken to do the much needed studying as exams are jus 2 months away!!!..See u all in sometime....hoping to remain sane by then...hopefully will have cleared my exams too....Cheers...

(PS: if i scrap or ping anyone of u please remind me to study :~()

30 FAQs About Ann

2008-04-01T08:13:00.003+01:00

(Dear Brat ur tag is a little difficult for me to do. So i am doing the easy one first)
(I am very bad with my hyperlink-ings due to lack of patience..so please excuse that too...)

So the Bachelor Ambrosia tagged me (yay!!) but unlike wat he expected i was not the first person to do it [njaan demand vechatu alla- karthik had done it by the time i saw this tag ;~) ] After this tag i presume my selfish, quirky nature will be revealed to all :~(

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:
I dont remember precisely. I think it was Dhoom 2 as part of the last college 'outing'. I remember being the only girl in the hall cheering with the guys when bipasha made her grand bikini entry. (i am straight-just was shocked at seeing her from flab to fab in that movie)

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
'Societas Europaea' by D. Kraakmann. (Yes Kraakmann thats the name of the author-prolly thats the effect the subject had on him) Too busy with syallbus textbooks to pick up anything else. :~(

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Snake n ladder and ludo (the ones which had the games on either side of the board). Scrabble n chess required brain activity so avoided them.

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Nothing in particular as it depends on which magazine is available at the reception where i am waiting. However i would love to feature on the cover of Forbes and Time. (I will need plastic surgery for the Cosmo or Elle or Vogue cover)

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Being the foodie that i am i love the smell of onions cooking :~) Also like the smells of shoe polish and orange rind.

6. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
These days i like the sound of Dad's caller tone cause i know i am calling home. Else sound of breaking glass (yes i am weird) and the hissing sound made when water touches a hot surface...

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
When i realise how much time i have wasted (I am feeling so right now too :~P)

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
I actually say this- "F$#@ i am late again!!!" or "Jus half an hour more...zzzz....zzzz" followed by "F$#@ i am late again!!!"

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
Natraj Dahi Bhalla Centre in Chandini Chowk, Delhi. In London, the 4 kebab shops in Leicester Square.

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Being a true blue malayalee, it will be a nonsensical mix of my name and that of the child's father's. Since i do not know the latter's name, i will have to skip this question. But i can assure u that the name will not have a meaning..it will only be a 'sound' (like jiji, liji)

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?
Get Mum enrolled in some gourmet cooking classes across Europe (Dad can enjoy post retirement bliss with Mum in all these countries) and enroll myself in Pineapple Dance Academy [they r so damn expensive :~(] All this after investing a major chunk of the money as per Dad's advice, so it better be LOTS of MONEY [PS- Mother Teresa is not my role model and this is no beauty pagent]

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Only wen dear Balbir bhaiya was present and we were on a national highway. Its over a year i touched the steering wheel. :~(

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No. Was/Is too much of a tomboy to do so.

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?
Would have been cool if they didnt wreck everything on their way.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
I m still a stingy student, so no car yet. Though the first one driven was the maruti 800 with a pair of clutch and break, one for the driving instructor and one for me.

16. FAVORITE DRINK?
Totally depends on my mood. All time favourite is Banta from Chandini Chowk. (Lemonade with the goli kuppi soda and a special masala) The dirty water and unhygenic surrounding made it taste better.

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD
Pursue dance once again, learn a new language....

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?NO!!!
Yes. But would try and avoid eating this vegetable given a choice.

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
After bronze, blonde and orange streaks and a perm my hair is not ready for another experiment. But as the question says "IF"- then it wud have to be Neon Red streaks. (I like solid, jango colors)

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Trichur, Alwaye, Madras, Bombay, Ernakulam, New Delhi, Chennai, Delhi, Mumbai, London, Amsterdam (I have spend 1/3rd of my time here)

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
The only thing i ever watched on ESPN was All State Cheerleading Championship!!

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.
Great culinary skills (that make me jealous :~D )

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Hollow space- jus like my head

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
Yes..but as a more patient and organised person.

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?
Flexible.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Either as per the mood.

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
A bed anywhere warm and cozy. Relaxing for me = Sleeping

28. FAVORITE PIE?
Apple pie which Mum makes cause thats the only 'margarine-free' pie i am aware of and she also puts raisins in it-jus the way i like it. Occassionally Xmas Mince pie.

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Mum's pineapple ice-cream. Ever since in London, Ben and Jerry Cookie Dough.

[My mother's culinary skills is every child's fantasy come true. For a middle-aged malayalee mother she makes a variety of continental desserts. She will be receiving her third Michelin star this year :~D So dont think i am blah-blah-ing when i say "Mum's apple pie", "Mum's ice-cream". She even makes the cleanest, unadulterated chocolate truffle and cheese cake too :~P]

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? Hopefully Mac...

And this tag goes to..

Macadamia- The Nut (I dont know ur name :~( )

Brat- Bharat

Aishwarya- Aishwarya

Farsan- Maneesh

Dgrail- Dhivya

Zenmaster- Arvind

Alex Mcone (i dont know ur name either)

Fitness Freak Me.... :~D

2008-03-06T23:28:00.002Z

After the bicycle misadventure, I was ordered 2 weeks rest and complete pamper by the cute Doctor Bakshi at NHS. Now thats the perfect advice for a couch potah-to like me. It was complete binge time..sometimes eating upto 4 meals a day and the midnight snacking too. But the wildest ideas strike you in those 'pampered' moments. After finishing 'another' pack of crisps I limped carefully to the mirror and saw to my horror that all what i shed a month back (850 grams to be precise ;~D) was back with a vengence!! So I checked out some pics of the good old 'slimmer' days, my mum's and sister's pics and made myself feel miserable. Finally resolved to take charge of the situation. In a nutshell my new fixation is FITNESS.

At this point I must confess that like everyone I am extremely jealous of people who wear spandex and jog for an hour at a stretch. I am very fond of fitness programmes (which i watch while munching on french fries). And though extremely ashamed to accept this, it was just two years back when I was training to be dance instructor (can i hear guffaws..it is the truth people..but the 100 crunches EVERYDAY killed me, so dropped it midway).

Now gym membership was out of question as university gym always has a long serpentine queue behind it (I am embarrased to jog in front of those 6pack abs students). So friend and I sign ourselves up for advanced aerobics and we see that a guy named Mark is taking the session. Accordingly friend goes shopping for chic sports wear as she has this 'gut' feeling that Mark will be hot! (a GUY taking aerobics!!! dearest friend MEN dont take 'AEROBICS' generally)

Due to a missing-key-mishap from yours truly, we reach the building just in time. The class was supposed to be in 'studio 1', but we ran into 'a studio' where we saw a few students warming up (this is after we nearly took a short cut through a Shower Room, which ended up being the Mens shower room-friends idea!). To my horror, some girls I knew from my hall were also present in their sexy spandex flexing their toned muscles (the world is indeed a SMALL place!!! aargh!) Suddenly the music is pumped up, a woman (who i am believe is German for some reason) tells everyone to pick up weights. Now we were only expecting aerobics, where we just jump around and we were expecting MARK...where the hell is MARK?? On enquiring with the girls from the hall on whether it is the advanced aerobics class- i get the reply..'What aerobics??? ' Before we could react, the instructor shouts- 'quick pick up your weights...we have no time to lose'. That is the first time i was shouted at in London!!!

What happened after that is ...(Instructor with stern look and foul mood)

We begin with simple squats....yeah come on 5 more..I WANT 5 MORE SQUATS...now squats with weights....go pick the rod with weight and lets do squats AGAIN...go LOWERRR....complete your squat..next slow squats...all you lazy bones...move it people move it....hey dont drink water.....and 4..3..2..1...hey where do u think you r going...we now do lunges...come on give me 30 on each leg..get moving people, stop faking cramps!!!....next pick your weights...lunges again.....okay..are we done with 30 on each leg...now go get your mats...i want 20 crunches in each position..NO RESTING in between....lets begin... NOORRRMMAALLLLL....now cross leg.....18...19...20...have u finished your 20 so soon...do another 20.. next side crunches...hey stop looking tired..now i want 20 pushups...and go slow......everyone stop being lazy...lets jog!!!...okay 45 minutes...STOP!!!"

What a relief. The next 15 minutes saw friend and me walking back to our rooms taking the support of the walls of every building in the way. We were still clueless of what that bootcamp class was all about, but were too tired to think for the night. Next day morning saw our bottoms, flabby 'abs' and thunder thighs sore (now sore is an understatement) and I still need support to sit, stand and even use the WC!!(have i ever told u that i am an aquaholic...groan!) The suspense was killing me, so went after college to figure out what was it that I underwent....and now the moment of truth...We had walked into the wrong class and the class we attended was aptly called...

BUMS TUMS and THIGHS!!!!

(Ouch!)

2008-02-24T20:26:00.000Z

On a nice August afternoon 3 years ago….

“Ok..so he is a CA very good…Christian…Roman Catholic..oh even better..so where is he working…oh IT company..hmmmm….not bad…ooh yes yes we know their relatives..very good people….but wait they are from from…WHAT!!...HE IS FROM KOTTAYAM!!!”

……..engaged tone……………

That was how the Big J entered our lives. A father’s second worst fear was coming true when he heard about a marriage proposal for his daughter from the Kottayam side* (the first being marrying a non mallu and/or non roman catholic). So much was Dad’s shock that he didn’t bother to ask the groom’s name or enquire about his family in that call!!! It has been over three years since u entered our lives ‘by law’ and have changed my sister’s and my sense of humour for the worse. Winning the hearts of all the ammachis with your ‘stuti kudukal’**, all the uncles by thrusting a drink in their hand and all the aunties by giving them compliments. And today I am using the ‘power of the internet’ to wish on your birthday cause next year u r officially going to be in ‘old’ men’s league!!!

Happy Birthday Dear Chettan….

Thank you*** for all the sensible advise on life and relations, all the Amsterdam trips, all the expensive shopping, all the confidence boosting sessions, all the ‘how-to-hook-a-guy’ lectures, all the pub hopping and ‘drink all nite’ outings, all the new words in my Malayalam vocabulary, all the ‘places’ I wanted to visit for my desire to be a ‘learned’ person (tho I am still no good)…and thank you for being a BROTHER and not just another BROTHER-IN-LAW….

(* no offence against the Kottayam dudes and dudettes, just another one of Dad’s pet peeves)
(** a Malayalee Christian style of greeting elders which is now not ‘cool’ enough for most of us to follow)
(*** half of the ‘thank you’ applies to your better half too)

Going Dutch on a Vicious Cycle

2008-02-12T14:42:00.008Z

I always look forward to those trips to Chech’s place as the pleasure derived from shopping without looking at the price tags for a chronic miser like me is …well….cannot be expressed in words. This trip, being my 3rd in the last 3 months was extra-special, cause I was confident that I had made some progress on my ‘lose weight’ resolution. So after 4 weeks of jumping in aerobics sessions, running by the side of Thames (evoking laughs from ppl who saw fat girl running), trying to avoid looking at my favourite ‘chewy chocolate cookies’ in the supermarket, I looked forward to the moment when I will stand on the weighing scale and the needle will gladly deflect to the left from my previous weight, when I wear the much sexy outfit and not look outrageous, when I can finally get some looks from deserving men, when I will finally choose a design for the tattoo that I was chickening out all this while. This was also to be my ‘Binge Week’- so in comes the drinks, snack-in-betweens and out goes the salad! I also kept getting info that Chettan (brother-in-law) was also making plans for happening weekend.

With all this optimism I head to the airport. Travelling for the first time with my new reissued passport, the worst of my fears came true. Seeing the foto in my passport (where my look is heavily inspired by a cross of Veerapan and Amy Winehouse), I was escorted for ‘additional’ security checks. Now I am someone who ‘silently’ walks across the metal detectors till date & here I was standing in weird positions (eg standing like a lizard) in front of an invisible X Ray machine!!! Once the woman at the security desk learnt that 'they' are real (not fake as thought 'they' were) and not the new way to conceal ammunition, I was let off... So far so good- I touched Schipol, met Chech-Chettan. Okay so I was jealous seeing that Chech has also lost weight, but I was happy to know that my ‘size XXL’ cheeks where only ‘XL’ this time.

Scene I- After a dinner of pizza I complain of having too much carbs for a day, when I was suggested that I can go cycling. Cycling in Holland, that is like French kiss in France!!

Scene II- Next second, I am on the cycle, enjoying the Dutch scenery at night and burning all the carbs. We were looking for Chinatown to see the leftovers of the Chinese New Year celebrations and on one of the bridges, I am distracted by the looks of another cyclist crossing my path, wearing aviators at NIGHT!!...

Scene III- I am head over heels or rather ‘cycle’ over heels, shin, ankle, foot’

The passers by surround me, and a woman asks me – “have u broken anything or is it jus a sprain?” With all due respect lady- HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!! A black ‘gentleman’ [I believe an Usher’s look alike] is lifting the jeans of my right leg, when I had hurt MY LEFT LEG!!! Soon the whole event sank in when Mr. Usher’s look-alike, with his hands stretched out in a chivalrous manner, told me- ‘If ya havent brok’n nythin’ then stan’ up, why yee sittin’ down’. I replied – I need sometime to come to terms with what jus happened and next second he vanished!! I wanted to tell him- dude your women are strong, but we Indian women take more than 45 seconds to come to out senses and STAND UP!!! So there went my "looks from deserving man"...

Scene IV- back at home and got to know that the ‘vicious’ cycle had made Chech also ill with ‘over cycling’. For her adventure click here. From then on it was a weekend when Chettan was taking care of 2 beautiful patients. Since I was ‘injured’, partying took a backseat and it was binging all the way- with comfort food like bakhlava, biryani, bbq flavoured chips, bacardi… :~(

But then I also cooked… (yes yes thats my creation..entry sent to Ripley's Believe it or not!)

Ate…

Drank…. (Chettan's Mojito-[read lemonade])

and with restricted mobility there is always ‘tomorrow’ to start exercising :~P

Scene V- The two sisters cast an evil eye on ‘healthy’ Chettan and he is now sitting with a football size foot!

PS: The last time I cycled was 15yrs ago, when I stopped cycling because I fell off the cycle!!

PPS: My Valentine's Day wishlist is out-

1) A cricket team-preferably the Mumbai team

2) 100 or more Reliance Power shares

3)Macbook Air

and no Tata Nano will not do.....

Malayalam Ariyilla

2008-01-26T22:18:00.000Z

(Dont know malayalam- when spoken in the 'fake' mallu accent can also mean 'cannot SLICE malayalam')

A little knowledge of malayalam is advisible for this post.

I have read many posts on misadventures of malayalees speaking hindi- some original, some copied. Quite ashamed to admit it, but in my family we have had our embarrassing moments trying to speak our mother tongue- Malayalam.

During those long evening family prayers (when all except Ammachi are alseep), in response to the Litany to the Blessed Mary everyone mechanically responds ‘Njangalku vendi apeyshikanamey’ (pray for us)...Now the jus-returned-from- Ooty-boarding-school uncles in an attempt to actively take part in prayer and listening to Appachan started responding ‘En CONDITIONamey’….

In Malayam, (if I can translate per se) we try to ‘make sure our prayer reaches’ God. (That should explain one and half hour long Sunday mass) My sister is generally good with her Malayalam, except one day when she told father- “Daddy nammakku prarthana CHETHIKYAM”… Dad with the 'why-did-I-bring-these-girls-out-of-Kerala' look, corrects her- ‘Moley prarthana CHETHIKYAM alla, ETHIKYAM (refer to ‘reaching prayer’ logic)’
P.s chettiya has no sensible meaning as far my knowledge of Malayalam goes.

Yours truly- the worst in the lot. My knowledge of Malayalam is purely phonetical and vocabulary mostly picked up from movies or Asianet. If my younger cousins want to outsmart me all they do is ask me the numbers in Malayalam-especially 85 and 95. If they want instant entertainment, copy of Malayalam Manorama is pushed in front of me.

Once sitting and watching Ammachi dry betel nut (adakya) in the sun, I innocently asked Mum- “Ammey idano olakyya”!!! (Dear cousins don’t say ‘olakya’ or ‘thenga kola’ in front of kids). Or the regular question I ask Mum- Amma ente pillowna evidey? (Mum where is my pillow- talona in mallu) The other day I wanted to scrap a malayalee friend ‘endu patti’ (wat happened)..typo error it ended up being ‘enda patti’!!

When I was enrolled in St. Teresas’s school in class 8, girls in class viewed me as the NRK mallu from Bombay and I did get a good share of attention and respect. So much so girls would try (uncomfortably) to speak in English or not talk to me at all. [Little did they know that I was not speaking to them cause I was not comfortable with my malayalam]. In addition, the strict Chemistry teacher was my aunt. So no messing with the new girl in class. Now the tailors were taking more than 3 weeks to stitch the new uniform. On enquiring

Me- Uncle uniform eppo kittum? (wen will I get the uniform)
Tailor- “uniform chuvayazhicha kittum” (u will get the uniform on chuvayazhicha)
Me- “chuvayazhicha paranya” (what is chuvayazhicha )
Tailor- “kuttyikku Malayalam ariyillale- toosday toosday” (kid u don’t know Malayalam. Tuesday)

Now on the way back, I chat with some other northy friends and laugh and say “ooh chuvayazhicha matlab magalwaar” and all of us repeat that line a zillion times in the break. Break ends. Class teacher walks in.

Teacher- “Anndey uniform ready aayile?” (Ann isn’t your uniform ready?)
(Since the question was posed in Malayalam and I was not on guard I respond back in malayalam)
Me- “Illya ma’am. Tailor parayanu enikku uniform MANGALAZHICHA kittum” (No. Tailor said I will get it on MANGALAZHICHA)
Rest is history- I was the butt of jokes in class for the next one week. I was reduced to a normal student and started speaking in broken Malayalam and my friends in English to me...

I am very grateful to my father for taking us out of Kerala because with our family practices, my priorities today would have only been a husband and two kids. But somewhere along the line I regret the fact that I do not know much about my state, my culture, my language (and most of my relatives). And it is sad that most malayalees take pride in saying that they don’t know their language or their culture. And even if they do know, deny it and fake a 'malayalam-is-so-difficult-for-me' accent. And i have noticed this is more among the fairer sex. Those chechis at St. Teresa’s college and convent junction, endless heroines in movies, kitty party aunties in Ernakulam south and rotrary clubs, the funny hostess of Idea Star Singer… What is sadder is that NORMALayalees tend to put these ABNORMALayaless on a pedestal!!

Doing fraandsheep on Orkut

2008-01-13T01:05:00.000Z

“You don’t know Orkut, the whole world is on orkut.”
That line and a dirty stare-like smiley from a friend three years ago was how I was initiated into orkut. Four years back started what I would call a revolution (atleast in India and Brazil)- social networking sites. In the beginning this concept caught my fancy. I met friends with whom I had lost touch for over 5-10 years. Checked out the profiles of the erstwhile high school babes and bitches and got jealous (I am human!). Found all my past crushes, checked out how they looked after all these years and their present relationship status too ;~P. I hate to admit it, but yes orkut is a part of my e-life. Wat makes orkut interesting?

Names- (& u thot I will start with fraandsheep :~P) I thought our parents named us Ram, Shyam, Sita, Gita, Libby, Tibby. But who names their kids ‘trust no one’, ‘love is blind’, ‘don’t believe wat u c’, ‘love knows no boundaries’, 'smell of love ummm...'. What compounds the problem is the display pic- the place is infested with Deepika Padukones, Shahrukh Khans, Che Guevaras, Emma Watsons, Brad Pitts. Do they realise how difficult it is for their scrap recipients to identify them wen they get a scrap from ‘MorOniC WoMaN’ and the profile picture shows Rakhi Sawant or ‘Blessed Gurl’ with Pam Anderson. And we also have stars, hyphens, asterisk marks decorating your name..

Albums- So all of us know that photos in orkut till sometime back were not safe as one could save a pic at the right click of the mouse. But there were (are) still some people who want to put their pic, but still fear and we end up seeing their backs, hand, torn jeans end, eye, a newly-shaped eyebrow, nostril and puppy’s tail, rahul dravid, some hills and valleys..

Foto captions- Some ppl come up with brilliant captions for their pics. Captions like ‘I am hot, am I not?’, ‘isnt she smart?’ [y do u want our opinions too], , a pic with a girl in front of the computer ‘This is what I do when I am boring’.

“Mah-moi” language- Our wannabe-ism has been taken to new heights with this language. So sometimes the new ‘about me’ columns have ‘This is mah life, I live with moi parents’ or photo caption ‘moi sister and ma’. (my heartfelt sympathies for the French.)

This one worries me-
Kiddie champs- Sadly orkut is getting very popular among kids-The Orkuttans and Orkutties and their folks don’t understand the dangers I presume- so we have a random Tia Mol who writes ‘I am not 18 I am jus 9, here to have fun. Relationship status- open marriage, orientation-bicurious’. But that apart there are these dashing heroes, all of 10, putting up their macho pics- a) Where they are wearing ‘full pants’ standing with their chettans and wearing plastic ‘cooling glass’, b) with folks wearing a wet t-shrit in Veegaland and other such concerns . Their ‘ideal match’ is Emma Watson’ or ‘Miley Cyrus’. And they converse in the ‘mah-moi language’ more than teens.

Fraandsheep request- It is through orkut, I learnt that ppl are seeking ‘frandsheep’ and not friendship and that they don’t want to ‘befriend’ you, but rather ‘do frandships’ or ‘make frandsheep to’ you. Take for example

“H@!!!!!!..I'm Gikku,Nw Frm Mavelikara..I would like to Make a Good Friendship with u..(I kno these r usual words of Every Guy to Start a chat with a Gal.) Bt I'm not. I realy like Good Friendships.If U havnt any Objection...... I expecting Ur Rely.. For More abt me go through My Profile.. Take Care.”
Or
“i am a cool dude with good sense of humar as my Existing friends say,i found your name and profile, it's very intresting , if u want to maintain a good friendship
u r most welcome u can reach me @ 98XXXXXXXX”

Followed by the regulars- u r my ‘hart’, ‘sole’, ‘liver’ etc, ‘there is somethOng in you that I like a lot’ (talk abt I and O being next to each other on the keyboard)

I tried to wean myself away from Orkut, but with fraand-requests like this who can live without Orkut :~P

New Year Revelations

2008-01-04T12:26:00.000Z

Lot of revelations happened last year, especially in the last quarter, when I left home for the first time to firang land. Here are a few of them.

- A ‘please’ or ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you’ will only get your work done in England. Never said so many sorry, thank u please ever in my life.

- Even an Englishkaran (Englishman) has problems in understanding my English, which I thought had a neutral accent.

- It is the policy of National Health Services to ask you if u r pregnant on routine check up. It is not that they suspect/ accuse you of being pregnant.

- Don’t get shell-shocked if prophylactic is provided in the ‘student induction pack’.

- I still manage to get ‘looks’ from old 50-65 yr old Englishmen. Wonder y they keep thinking that I am interested in them!!!

- Rajma bursts when heated in a microwave and dal needs to be soaked before it is cooked.

- You have to attend to the milk kept on the hob. The hob doesn’t switch off on its own.

- I look like a Bangladeshi and Dad looks European Chinese (according to my Polish hallmate). And I thought we looked INDIAN!!

- Gatwick Airport resembles Bhatinda railway station as the Europeans also convert their bags into pillows and lie on the couches in the waiting area, thereby not letting others sit.

- Our ‘Cuticura’ is an international brand. Saw it lying in a dutyfree shop.

- When they have no reservations on a train, the Europeans like Indians will sit outside the loos and in some cases even inside.

- Inter City Express (ICE) touches 300km/hr only from Cologne to Frankfurt. (We should have gone further!)

- KÖLN is Cologne (this was my biggest revelation)

- Read about a place the next time I head somewhere. I have to go to Cologne once again to appreciate the Cathedral.

- Eau de Cologne is different from the water flowing in River Rhine through Cologne.

- Fallen snow resembles ice found in a refrigerator without defrost.

- The dumb actresses of the Indian film industry deserve some amount of respect. Its not easy standing on snow with a backless blouse and chiffon saree.

- I should just stick to juice as just one glass ends up making me dance much to the embarrassment of my company. (Disclaimer: I am not a drunkard, I dont go beyond a drink except that one dreaded time)

- Chech and I still look ‘under 18’ [according to German standards] as we were the only ones asked to show our passport for entry. (Man did I feel good!)

- Mum is still not concerned about my advancing age, Dad is still concerned about y he is not receiving any ‘pocket money’ demands from me.

- Ammachi thinks I am a little girl, she still calls me Minukutty (aargh!)

- Never rant about any blog in particular to Chettan to an extent which irritates him. He ended up attacking an unsuspecting fellow blogger, followed by attacks from Chech and yours truly. (Disclaimer: We r a heady mix, but we aren’t as crazy as we appear)

- Chettan is the brother I always wanted (Thank u Chech for the kidilum choice, Chetta- my Euro trip ;~D)

- Chech has become a very good cook, and I have gotten over the paranoia that she is trying to poison me.

- College is the best time of your life and u realise this only when u finish college and land up in an office staring at the computer and trying to sound pleasant and more importantly ‘knowledgeable’ to your clients.

- Office is the best time of your life and you realise this when u land up in college after a 4 month stint in an office and start hating homework and taking down notes in class. Suddenly ‘end of the month’ lost its significance and excitement.

- May be middle of this year when I am out of grad school I will appreciate it more.

- A stricter boss is a better boss. (BFD u r still my best mentor till date)

- There is no place like mum’s kitchen. Never looked forward to idiappam and puttu as I do now (Mum are u listening??)

- There is no better place to study than a room where u can overhear Mum humming. Over the past three months I ‘hear’ silence more often than sound. And there is no better luxury in knowing that ‘Dad will take care of everything’.

- I can never find a replacement for my best friend Vidhi. May our friendship continue forever and ever. Amen

Dear Santa...

2007-12-21T09:57:00.000Z

Dear Santa,

Your gift for this Christmas orphan was purrfect. This proves that I have been a good girl this year. I am not going to be lonely for Christmas. :~). But I also know that I am the punishment you are giving that couple in Amsterdam for being very naughty this year. ;~)

Love
Ann

!!!Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!

PS: Mum i am missing your plum cake and that famous mallu Ann's bakery cake still makes me nauseous.

PPS: New year resolution- to stop laughing like a hynea...

Marriages made in heaven...

2007-12-16T03:16:00.000Z

As a child, 14th April was the deadline by which we had to reach Trichur (for the uninitiated a place in Kerala) in the summer hols. It was my maternal grandfather's (Appachan) birthday & every year it was celebrated with great pomp & grandeur. All of us remembered Appachan's b'day. But many didn't realise that Ammachi even had one.

One day, on telling Ammachi this, she told me that Appachan also complained about the same thing. Further her b'day was at a time which did not clash with any holidays. & then he had told her that he would do something so that people will remember her b'day.....A few years later he died on her b'day. Appachan did what he promised. People now remember Ammachi's b'day. Because of his popularity in the business community, even business associates remember.

This for me was love in its purest form. They had seen the highs and lows of life. Been there for each other for nearly 50 years. I then see my folks- 2 totally contrasting personalities who have been with each other through thick and thin for 30 years. And there were just two people in these relationships.

Circa 2007. I see people around me. Some with a string of flings behind them, some seeking non-commital sexual relationships (the bastard* didnt want to pay for a service i presume), dangerously flirtatious married people, now with Mr, with Mr Y a few weeks later and these are your average Indians. Am I getting too cynical or am I expecting too much from the world or are we getting too westernised or am I too old fashioned? what happened to marriages like that of Appachan-Ammachi or Dad-Mum?

Call me boring & old fashioned, but i do have a problem in equating sex with just another physical need or a favour for a promotion..

Wedding season has set in. For Xtians starting 26th December all churches, priests, florists, couturiers, saloons etc will get busy. I got the news that my best friend and ex-colleague got married, another cousin is getting engaged (& yet another pregnant & one had a baby-all of them younger to me..sigh!). Some arranged by family and some self-serviced marriages. I am happy for all of them. Hope all ur marriages are like my Appachan-Ammachi’s or Dad-Mum’s and may u live 'happily ever after'.....

* I do not generally swear, but here I think it is justified.

Unique-ly yours!!

2007-12-15T00:30:00.000Z

(yay! my first tag)..listening to Blue Danube Waltz celebrating the end of my first term....

Tagged by agent Egg Bonda (because of whom i hv watched Sound of Music 4 times in the past 2 weeks), i am expected to disclose unique things i possess.

i dont possess anything unique as Chech. (but i shall steal some of them this Xmas and make my room unique) But I think the sentimental value associated with some of them is wat makes them 'unique'..atleast to me.

5 Unique Things Found in My Room

1) A rosary which i picked up from the one and only retreat centre (in and around Trichur) i visited in my life.
2) An old dupatta of Mum's which she gave me to use as a rag(!!!). But it is not yet used as rag..guess i am getting emotionally attached to it.
3) 3 different plastic bags for 1) biodegradable waste, 2) glass and plastics, 3) paper [environment friendly Ann :~) ]
4) Brochures and pamphlets which are invitation to college parties, tube farelist, day trips out of london, tabloids containing lousy gossip which i use as coasters and tablemats.
5) A tastelessly done collage containing pics of my close friends and family. (also revealing the gradual increase in my weight over the years)

5 Unique Things Found in My Wallet

1) My college Id card which entitles me to highly important things like discount at Subway & other eateries, tube etc. and entry to half the buildings in college.
2) Some Austrailan 'chillar' (change) which i have been carrying with me ever since my eventful trip to Melbourne 2 yrs ago.
3) A very old visiting card of Dad's in the hope that his presence will forever be on my wallet (okay at least till next year)
4) Rs. 130 given by Dad at the airport just in case i wanted to get anything at the airport.
5) A note from sis wishing me 'Good luck in London' which came in the pocket of my 'life-saving-in-winter' jacket that she sent me.

5 Unique Things Found in My Bag

1) A copy of 'London A to Z' (which i never consult to navigate my way through this city as I have always managed to get lost with it) and college map (why have classrooms in various nearby buildings too)
2) A windcheater. It rains anytime and everytime here or at least wenever i am in the 'exploring' mood.
3) Black ink pen and passport size fotos. Thanx to the englishmen's fixation for 'black ink pen' for completing practically every form. The foto is back up option as many a times i was made to queue up again because i didnt have a foto!
4) The 17 yr old watch which was actually gifted to my sister wen she was 10. I upsurped it & wore that to all my exams. Its like a goodluck charm. However now only the dial is left. NO strap, no battery.
5) My room key which works on some weird technology that most of the time either i am locked out or everyone expect me can open the door.

So thats wat is 'un-uniquely unique' abt me...

Dream to dare

2007-12-08T21:35:00.000Z

(for ppl in the real world [as contrasted with the blogosphere] who know me this post will leave them in splits)

In my dreams…

I am a wild girl constantly ‘living on the edge’ or a biker babe. Myself dressed in the trademark riding jacket, boots, gloves, waterproof jeans, helmet et al…(zzzzzippp- fastening my jacket) zooming past the motorways. Going on a road trip on my bike…zzzzoooommm…..

Or

I am a don’s moll, constantly showered with costly gifts by my gangster-drug dealer Don. In the dimly lit-with neon-lamps discotheques which my Don owns I shall give my special sexy performance (where I will be wearing a gold sequined slinky dress and high heels). And in a room in the top floor, Don shall be threatening a middleman for messing with the cocaine consignment and eventually shooting him point blank. Of course I am also having an affair with the doorkeeper of the disc.(wonder y but even in reality I find the disc doorkeepers with their long overcoats, blue tooth devices/bugs(I think that’s wat they are called) in their ear and stern face so hot!)

Or

I am a Baywatch lifeguard. In this particular dream I am blonde (Pamelaji ki Jai!!). Wearing the red swimsuit, standing on my watchtower keeping an eye on the beach with my yellow binoculars. And when I hear the frantic call ‘help! help!’ I make the dramatic 'slow-motion' run towards the water and rescue him. Of course later myself and hunk (who I jus rescued) go on a date and then kiss with the sunset in the background.

In real life…
A law student trying to finish her reading before class, understand wat is being told in class, (as incomplete readings lead to incomplete comprehension), hope to clear her exams and get a job with her new found postgraduate status. Adventure quotient- nil, Social life- practically nil, Party scene- nil, Love life- what is that?

I cannot handle a normal TVS Scooty, forget handling a superbike. Infact I can’t even ride a bike. Drugs, deals, dons petrify me. I haven’t been to a disc/bar unless accompanied by brother-in-law or sister (and I also have the dubious distinction of being the only one landing up in track pants on a Friday nite) Imagine the sight of me introducing my doorkeeper boyfriend to my folks (i.e. if the Don spares us both). Red swimsuits and tanned bodies- my attempts at learning how to swim ended with me being highly hydrophobic, so much so that even a powerful bathroom shower can scare me off. And I will be charged for the offence of obscenity and indecent representation of women if I try to fit into a swimsuit and run. (huff pant pant…)

The closest I got to an exciting life was wen I was caught by the receptionist returning back to my hall on this early Saturday morning (the first time ever). Trying to sneak in without waking him up, I tip toe into the hall when
Receptionist: Hello young lady
Me: (deer caught by a headlight look) ooh! Hi good morning..
R: Well it sure is a good morning for u, isn’t it? (giving a cheeky smile looking like 'i caught u coming back from ur boyfriend's place')
Me: (trying to act brave, simultaneously walking to the door)..hahaha..well then have a nice day..
R: u sure did have a nice day afterall right… (nodding cheeky smile again)

Me: (by then ran up to my room)
[I let him live in the misconception that he is in, little does he know that I was at my friend’s place last nite and cudnt get a bus back from her shady area!!! At least somebody thinks I have a happening life!]

I amsterdAM!

2007-12-01T23:50:00.000Z

Kehte hain agar kisi cheez ko dil se chaho toh poori kaynaat usey tumse milane ki koshish mein lag jaati hai....

After reading The Alchemist, I did start believing in destiny. I do look out for signs. Ever since I reached London, the thing on my mind, after (‘wat to eat for the next meal’) was when I will be invited to Amsterdam by Chech and husband, Chettan(ok I correct myself-wen i will get a 'relatively' free weekend to go-the it ws an open invitation). I wished for it ‘poore dil se’ and did have an eventful trip….

Sign 1- My visa was processed in 5 hours contrary to the regular practice of 24 hours. All thanx to over cautious approach to the documents by sister and the kind lady at the counter. (also thanks Dad for all money invested in my dental braces for my charming smile-I brushed my teeth twice that money). Although I had to spend the entire day in beautiful-in-autumn Kensington Garden without a camera and became frozen meat due to insufficient dressing, (I dressed according to central London weather!) the wait was worth it. I proudly called up Chech saying- Breakfast in London, dinner in Amsterdam.

Sign 2- Woken up at 9 for a class at 10 by Chech, I was warned to not be late for the flight. According to my calculations, to reach Heathrow at 3.15 I had to take the 2.15 tube. Reaching the platform I was reminded of Rajiv Chowk metro station!!! There was not an inch of space left all thanx to maintainece work on Picadilly Line. But 3 yrs Delhi Metro experience and a few months exposure to Mumbai Local, I was the first to get into the tube.

A journey which was to last for 50 minutes, took 90 minutes. Then the real action began. Everyone at Terminal 4 on that day would have testified that they saw a crazy Indian girl running about the terminal between 15.45 hrs to 16.15 hrs on 16 Nov 2007.

15.45
Ran out of the tube, hit a few passers-by, dropped a glove, ran back to collect it, took the lift, ran to the BA counter, looked puzzled at the boarding pass ‘vending’ machine only to be helped by a customer services member.

15.53
Running to the security line and I met an interesting man who was blocking my way while I was trying to pass him, on being asked, told him my flight takes of at 16.05! Good enough to let me ahead, we were stuck at the counter. Took out laptop, metallic things on person, jacket, i-pod, cell fone (which rang while in the X-machine-making me look suspicious to the English cop), shoes…(the next time they might just expect us to strip right there). During this entire exercise, the interesting man tells me BA will put me on the next flight and there was a huge public transport problem in central London.

16.00
Ran (again) to the BA counter to be told to run FASTER to gate #. With only Indian airport experience, I expect gates to be in one line, each at a distance of 10 baby steps apart. But run as much I did, gate # was far far away.

16.02
Reached the gate (pant huff puff!!). Sardar BA official called up the pilot and then turned to me saying Miss Jose (pronouncing it HOSSEY- I am not Hispanic plz plz) “u jus missed ur flight”. [Come on dude u can do something, u Indian, me Indian..but how wud u know I am Indian, u keep calling me HOSSEY!!]

16.04
Chech called “Are u in the flight…no…it says ‘last call’..u can still catch it”
“Chech I missed the flight”
“…………….silence…………” (Thinking- how many times have I told her to be on time)
“Well they told me go to flight connections”
“Ok..bye” (Thinking- my money!!)

16.06
Chettan- “Don’t worry..u take the next flight. If need be buy a ticket for the next flight”
“what…are u sure?...ok” (Thinking- The next flight only has business class, cheapest being GBP 385, I don’t think he checked it)

16.09
Running (yet again) to flight connections, I put up the famous ‘damsel in distress’ act- explaining to them how I was harassed by the Piccadilly line, its maintenance and Indian style tardiness. The act successful, I was put on the next flight with no extra charges but with a warning that the tube is not trustworthy and I should learn from this lesson.

16.15
Dad- “So u r on ur flight to meet chechi”
“Dad I missed my flight”
“……silence……” (Thinking- eeh kochine kondu thotu- basically this girl has crossed all limits)
“but I have been put on the next flight and that’s an hour later”
“ok…but are u in a safe place??? "
“huh??...Dad airport terminal…duty free shops..safe of course” (Thinking- its Heathow ppl ppl everywhere)
“Oh ok then, DON’T MISS UR NEXT FLIGHT” (Thinking- She in a dutyfree shop is not a safe place for me especially when her monthly bill comes)

Sign 3
22.00
I amsterdAM!!!!

Moral of the story: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”....Apart from this ‘want’, I also had the desire to overcome my laziness and start exercising. That was also fulfilled on this trip- in A’dam, I ran behind buses, trams, trains and even a PLANE!!

End mein sab theek ho jaata hai…Happys Endings!!!

for pics (if interested) check out-http://picasaweb.google.com/annmjose
(i am just a rookie though)

Sibling revelry

2007-11-19T21:57:00.000Z

Warning: Chech-Both of us are not very ‘vocal’ about our feelings, piss offs and craziest thoughts, but this time I guess it’s the weekend hangover that has led to this verbal diarrhoea.

As the youngest at home, life was fun as my folks didn’t experiment their parenting skills on me coz they were all tried and tested on big sister- Chech or Chechu as I call her. I was entitled to the bigger serving of ice-cream and the last piece of chocolate, not subjected to corporal punishment and always talked back to my folks. On the flipside, my middle name was entailed to rhyme with hers (malayalee parents fear being in breach of Section 3(2)(ii) of Kerala (Nonsensical Names) Act, 1951), received all hand-me-downs, wore similar clothes (I am sure that was mum’s way of saving money) and was constantly compared to the ‘well mannered, hardworking, less talkative’ sister.

From Rivalry…..

For some inexplicable reason, I was born with no hair on my head and 4 year old Chechu (who had jus received a ‘live’ doll) used to call me ‘motta vava’ (bald baby). She even composed a funny but irritating jingle on the bald ‘beauty’ (ahem). As a child, I always thought that I was adopted because Chech’s baptism, ‘1st birthday’, holy communion et al were ‘social’ events which relatives attended and mine were just a formality. And the child prodigy that Chech was, reaffirmed this fear. She convincingly told me that a scary looking man, appearing in an old album back home, had plans to finish off Dad, but then spared him subject to me being given to him when I complete 10 years of age [Dad agreed to give me off coz I was the adopted one]. And the stupid kid that I was, would count on my fingers how many years were left. (and I couldn’t beyond 3!!!)

Not that I was an angel in disguise. Whenever I sensed that Dad was unhappy with Chech’s studies, I would run and get the biggest ‘eerkkili’ (broomstick) for her punishment. We fought tooth and nail for frivolous things like remote control (cartoon network versus MTV), stationery, chocolates till Mum intervened saying – “ooh eeh kochungale kondu thotu!” (I have given up on these kids). She had the neat handwriting, systematic approach to study (waking up at 4.30 to prepare for her Chartered Accountancy exams), a voracious reader blah blah & blah and I was constantly told to ‘learn from her’. In a nut shell, she had made my life a living hell and I would tell people how lucky they were coz they didn’t a have sister like Chech. I wanted nothing to do with her.

….to Revelry

Times have changed now. We both look nearly alike (bad news for me coz she is 4 yrs elder!!!!). She lives with her ‘charming’ husband- (Chettan) just an hour away by flight and that is what keeps me sane here. The loser that I am, moved out of home just 2 months back. From being the carefree butterfly (though I doubt if my weight will permit me to defy gravity), I am forced to do my cooking, cleaning, washing and studying- apart from worrying about work prospects next year. Theories on mergers and acquisitions, pending laundry, bank account, what to prepare for dinner all in one go!!

Chech has, to an extent, now taken Mum’s place (as mum doesn’t talk much on the fone, and I need to ‘talk’ abt life’s happenings and not-so-happenings, not ‘write’ abt them in emails) especially when she says ‘get up get up its 5.15’. Her cooking has improved by leaps and bounds (if I describe her kitchen skills 5 years back she will sue me for defamation). I have special interest in her professional and financial success as it is directly proportional to the gifts I am showered with. (get the hint Chech, I am coming with more food requests next time). She always keeps a check on me & the gossip at my end- her’s and Chettan’s latest worry being my lack of lady like elegance and premature ageing.

Back from a much awaited weekend trip to Amsterdam. My clumsy nature made the process of getting the visa, hopping on the flight and the events thereafter surprising-embarrassing-and-fun in that order (details of which shall be elaborated later). But what I enjoyed the most was being carefree once again.

Now I tell people how lucky I am to have a sister like her. Further due to her, I now have a big brother(in-law) who provides all the fun element and sensible advice. (How much hv I flattered u today) Years back we were the good Roman Catholic girls who went to church and Sunday class every week. Thanx to Chettan’s sangria, last Sunday night we were two lightly drunk women (our first time ever) standing at a tram stop remembering those crazy childhood days, singing the ‘motta vava’ jingle and giggling. Chech just imagine what if Dad had seen us there??!??!

London-y Snickets- A Series of Embarrassing Events

2007-11-14T22:40:00.001Z

Absence from the blogsphere for a long time (like anyone cared!) is blamed on my inability to manage time efficiently. A lot has happened ever since I saw “The Namesake” (no I did not paint my full name as a graffiti on the walls of Mumbai- the innumerable C-grade movie posters didn’t spare any brick of the wall). I left my traineeship and got an Annie McBeal certificate. Since the boss was left speechless seeing my performance, he asked my goodself to prepare the certificate. I shopped for 20 days and packed everything into 3 bags and left the country to fufill my teenage dream- to meet Prince William! (he is balding and re-engaged but he still is in the second in line to the throne). On a serious note, I thought a li’l bit of London education may save my future employers.

The Journey

All my bags are packed, I ready to go
I am standing here outside the check-in counter
I hate to unpack all the excess baggage
Coz I am leaving on a jet (airways) plane

1) 20 days of shopping for an entire academic year. Linen, towels, cutlery, stationery, spices, pots, pans and finally some clothes..all packed into 3 bags.
Permitted weight = 28 + 23.
Packed weight = 35 + 33.
Finally checked-in weight = 30+ 25
Value of left behind Excess baggage= Priceless
Stares from the nearby people straight into my suitcase = Embarrassing
Lesson learnt- always weigh your luggage before a trip

2) When Mumbai was hot and happening at 35 C, my goodself was the only person in the airport with a sweater and a padded jacket (which made goodself look like an eskimo) and drawing unwanted stares from the NRIs. (you wore the same out-of-season clothes the first time u left the country!!!!)
Lesson learnt- ignore them.

3) Seated comfortably in the flight, goodself thot- lets watch some in-flight entertainment. So all buttons on the remote is pressed, touch screen is touched again and again till fingerprints ruined the screen, passengers seated nearby look and think ‘another FOB student’ and laughs and goodself thinks-‘Oh another IT onsite FOB’. In 15 minutes all misconceptions cleared- IT onsite dude is not an FOB, but a frequent flier (overheard conversation with third passenger) and the touch screen works once the inflight announcements take place and hence he laughed.
Lesson learnt- don’t turn on the entertainment as soon as u take ur seat. Be patient and wait for the flight to take off.

4) Dinner is served and it is some chicken achari roll (sounds good tasted ridiculous). The roll came in a cover double its size and goodself tries to put her hand all the way through, but the role doesn’t come out. IT-frequent flier-dude again laughs and then jus rolls down the cover half way till the actual achari roll is reached.
Lesson learnt- when u know not what to do, jus watch what others are doing (mebbe u too could get a chance to laugh). Your greed can wait!

5) The flight lands after circling London city 6-7 times as its too foggy for the ATC to give clearance and then thud! The flight touched the ground...(yay! I am in Lundun). All the passengers rush to the door and goodself thinks ‘dude this is Mumbai local train behaviour’ and casually wears the jacket, straps the laptop and pulls of the ‘overweight’ inflight bag (managing to look like an FOB all the more). People rushing all the way, running down the escalators. Soon the suspense ends at the immigration counter (or ‘UK BORDER’ as it is written in bold letters). At 6 am the rush at the counter resembled the crowd outside ‘Jalsa’ for Bacchan Jr’s wedding and it will take an hour to ‘cross’ the UK border.
Lesson learnt- the ‘Mumbai local train’ rule is universally applied at every international airport.

6) Lucky I was to meet a student (SM) also heading to my college and she suggests that we take the tube to our hall. Goodself had planned on taking the ‘sexy taxi’ (the famous black cab). Once across the trolley limit, the real adventure begins- getting our heavy luggage (each person pushing-tugging [I refrain from using the word ‘carrying’ which we were incapable of doing due to the weight] upto 70 kgs) to the tube. Goodself gets frustrated and comes up with the bright idea- THROW THE LUGGAGE down the escalator. So SM pushes the bag from the top, the bag tumbles and reaches goodself upside down, in the process also providing some comic relief to the passers-by.
Lesson learnt- Always travel light. (u get over the rupee-pound conversion soon)

7) So goodself reaches Holborn, again tugs at her luggage and manages to look helpless. An Indian student visiting London takes pity and helps. Together we pull down the luggage on the stairs and the wheels go manage to irritate everyone present.
Lesson learnt- Never do this when ur folks who funded the new luggage is around u..i was picturising the look on my folks face- the thot scared me.

8) Goodself stands on Kingsway hoping a ‘sexy taxi’ comes by…waits..waits..waits..(thinks-I SHUD have taken the cab at the airport)..waits..waits…(WTF!!!)…waits…waits..soon a cab finally comes..tells the cab driver ‘please take me to Drroorry lane’..he says ‘what’..goodself repeats.. ‘drrooorrry lane its jus the parallel street’..he says.. ‘oh druhry lane..i didn’t understand’!!
Lesson learnt- Even if English is the only language u can speak, don’t think the world will understand u. I thought my English was good, (I pronounce ‘r’ like the Americans do, not ‘arr’) but guess I was wrong.

9) Seats herself inside..nice ..wow I am in the sexy taxi..looks straight ahead to find the meter and sees the fare running at pace faster than the second needle in a clock. Reaches her destination and pays 6 pounds for a 3 minute ride. (Heathrow to Holborn- 45 minute ride-4 pounds!!)
Lesson learnt- the taxi is not that sexy afterall.

10) Goodself is now at her ‘home’ for the next 9 months and she didn’t know how to pronounce the name of the building. But this time smart enough, she did not take the name of the building, but quietly showed the offer letter and carefully overheard the receptionist talking over the fone and learnt pronunciation.

Conclusion- it might seem that I learnt all my lessons in 12 hours. But this is not the end of the story. More events happened but if I sit to write all of that I will not be prepared for tomorrow’s class. (what I actually meant to say is that it wud jus bore u to the core)

Birthday resolution

2007-11-13T10:51:00.000Z

....a lot happened since i snatched the 'annie mcbeal' certificate from my( no ex-boss)....i realised that an idle mind is definitely a devils workshop...today I turned a year older and decided to get back to things i like..now I AM BACK!!!!!...and this time hopefully to stay!!!....

PS i purposely took this resolution on my birthday and not on new yrs as the latter resolutions r meant to be broken....

The Namesake

2007-08-03T09:24:00.000+01:00

This post is slightly on the serious side. Last nite I watched ‘The Namesake’ (yeah finally!) and must say I loved the movie, not because of the stellar performances by all the actors, but because how close that movie is to my own life. Don’t worry unlike posts seen in many other blogs, I am not gonna write a review of the movie.

Watching the movie I felt that the lead characters Ashoke and Ashima were a reflection my dad and mum. Dad like Ashoke wanted us to stay outside Kerala cause a metro city was the ‘land of opportunities’(for further reference please refer to the post ‘Leema I got transferred’) and mum like Ashima still has the distinct accented English. What is strikingly similar is the relationship they both share, the downplayed romance, the concern over their ‘slightly’ indifferent children. I was reminded of my folks in the scene where Ashoke explains to Ashima that just because other husbands don’t build the Taj for their wives they don’t love them any less, where Ashoke calls Ashima to be with him in Cleaveland and when Ashima asks her husband ‘u want me to say I love u like the americans’ and the way she does not say it.

Similarities don’t end there. There are shades of Gogol in me coz I too have issues with my name. I always complain to my folks that in an effort to match my name with my sister’s, they have given me a lousy name. Why did they have to give me 3 names, y give me a name does not mean anything, y put my ‘good’ name, pet name and dad’s name in the school register, the names are three small names which they sounds ridiculous when taken together, y cant I make my dad’s name an initial and take my granddad’s name and…on and on and on. But in the scenes where his father says that Gogol can change his name and when it hurts him when Gogol’s wife says that she intends to retain her maiden name, I realized how much I hurt my folks wid my ‘name changing’ tantrums.

Sorry dad and mum coz I hurt you with alternatives for my name..after all whats in a name.. a rose by any other name would smell as sweet and there is no more room for granddad’s name in my name- Dad this is for your 'namesake'....

Annie McBeal

2007-07-25T07:58:00.000+01:00

Blogging frequency has become dismally low [like anyone cares, but still] these days as I serve the society as a corporate lawyer by raising bills on firangs. I am no more ‘just a student’ and since (wo)manhours are being billed, I chose to something more productive (but if I am showered with comments I will choose blogging over billing). So everyday Annie McBeal packs herself to the office and does wonders!! Here is an excerpt of what my certificate will be:

XYZ Associates

Certificate
TO WHOMSOEVER IT MAY CONCERN*

(* we dont except anybody to be concerned abt her)

Miss Annie Macbeal worked with us for the past____months. Listed below are the wonders she ‘performed’ during her stint at XYZ Associates.

Wonder 1- Dress Code
Annie McBeal is the only person in office who wears jeans on a weekday. On other days she obliges the firm by wearing Indian formals. But in that she appears to the client like a social worker striving for the cause of the downtrodden and destitute and not like a hard core mercenary willing to help firangs sell nuts, bolts, lubricants, plastics in India. She still carries a ‘backpack’ in contrast to a boring ‘formal’ bag and wears ‘funky’ socks instead of classy silk stockings. Her hair is in dire need of an ‘iron’ or at least a comb.

Wonder 2- Body Language
Annie Mcbeal is the classic case of ‘rebel without a cause’. She looks like a college student who has still not left her ‘glorious’ past behind. Her sitting posture resembles a Ramdev aasan. In her first month at office, to show her displeasure at a delayed pay cheque, she broke a chair. She breaks into a jig on solving a query. A complete clean freak it is not surprising to see her frequently cleaning the keyboard, mouse and office stationery with sanitizing lotion. [Warning: She needs to seek medical help on this issue] She needs to hone her choice of mobile ringtones, ‘Sexy back’ is ‘cacophonous, jarring sound’ affecting the office environment (I know sexyback is now passé..but that’s till I get some time to download a more “cacophonous” sound).

Wonder 3- Work culture
Annie McBeal has absolutely no clue of what she is doing in office. Her knowledge of corporate law at present is zilch and we are not contemplating or expecting any change in this regard in the ‘far’ future either. She can draft something, however we attribute this to her excellent talent at ‘cut, copy, pasting’. She gets jittery on meeting a client and in the process manages to get clumsier. Her patent dialogue to client is ‘We will have to ask boss about this. We shall get back to you in some time’. All in all she is our Bridget Jones.

To conclude, it was a delight having Annie McBeal in our office and it is BIGGER delight NOT HAVING her in the office. We wish all her future bosses good luck and success in all their endeavors.

Sd/-
XXXXX
Partner

2007-07-09T08:28:00.000+01:00

Rainy days are here again!!

"Rrain rrain go yaway
Come agyain anotherr day
Litttel Jhony waaants to playyy
Rrain rrain go yaway"

As a child i remember singing this rhyme (in that irritating voice and strong mallu accent-that explains the spelling) on a rainy day coz the rain ruined our evening play plans and we had to be content with indoor games. In school 'games' period became an extra-class period by the history teacher (of all the subjects HISTORY!!!). Folks would never allow me to get wet in the rain saying i would catch a cold. (if thats so then y didnt we catch cold wen we took bath under the shower!!!!). I hated wearing the raincoat, coz i thought it hid my curves (tho i didnt have any!). I wanted to carry an umbrella because all grown ups used an umbrella (i was 8 wen i thot this!)
Rainy season was something i wanted to enjoy sitting at home coz schools wud be shut for a day or 2, get wet, jump into the puddles of water and splash water on a newly painted wall (of course not ours, some others')- but cudnt coz it was banned by folks. So i would enjoy rain from my balcony with those few raindrops (which showed some mercy on me) falling on my outstretched little palm. (damn that parapet!!!!!) I was FORCED TO AVOID the rain.

"Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red.
Crying's not for me
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining.
Because I'm free. Nothing's worrying me."

In college, rain symbolised fun and romance (tho nt in my case sadly-the good (read stupid) mallu girl i am u see) , coz folks could no longer exert much control (mind u my folks r still very strict). Rainy meant teachers in no mood to teach and taking a walk in the rain with friends (some of them were given the much needed bath by mother nature herself) and yes ur heart would skip a beat wen u see the university heartthrob all wet and sexy(and for that moment the fact that he cant speak english and that he is just a gawar gaonwala doesnt matter-he still was the heartthrob as our univ lacked good choice). I once took a walk with my friends in the rain- walking wid that somebody who u think is secretly nursing feelings for u and suddenly the orange stain of the henna applied on my hair the previous day started draining and it resulted in orange spots on my my cream dupatta!!! [HOW ROMANTIC!!!!! and it also resulted in no more feelings being nursed]. I NO LONGER AVOIDED the rain.

At work, rain is taken in the same breath as traffic jam and boss' bad mood coz u jus cant save ur ass from it!!! Be it a 10km stretch traffic jam or ur assignment getting reviewed by boss wen his mood is at its foul-est peak or incessant rain- u still HAVE to be in office and show that pleasant face!! A rainy day means more stink in the bus, never ending traffic jam, overflowing gutters, multi-tasking trying to prevent ur umbrella from flying off and making sure that ur pyjama ends dont get wet (being all grown up i now carry an umbrella, but i realised that a raincoat is better!!!) and after all this battle sit freezing cold in the airconditioned office and finally catch that cold which ur folks always warned u abt. Now I WANT TO but CAN NO LONGER AVOID the rain!!!

"Rain rain go away
Come again another day
L'il Johny wants to play
Rain rain go away...."
These days i have resumed signing the same old rhyme, but the accent has changed- (its all the influence of Star TV!!)

From Walled City to Maximum City

2007-07-02T15:20:00.000+01:00

2 months in Bombay and my good self can see the difference between saddi dilli and amchi mumbai. here are a few.....

1) first and foremost- I don't think I am short anymore! (the delhi crowd gave me a complex!)

2) fat aunties with low neck crepe suits and fatter uncles yapping in punjabi have given way to fit dada and dadis jabbering in marathi

3) neon colored polythene lifafas have been replaced by psychedelic prints- wali thaili

4) sweaters have given way umbrellas and rain coats

5) no more papdi chat, dahi bhalley, chole bhature, jus vada pav, pav bhaji, pav samosa, pav this, pav that

6) bbye golgappe, hello pani puri :~(

7) no more lecherous looking uncles, infact hardly any leching these days and a man to woman conversation happens eye to eye (thank god)

8) um still trying to find a woman who wears make up, as contrasted to the quintessential delhi woman with all the make up on her face 24/7

9) sleek metro is no longer a luxury, only ur local Mumbai local

10) we have gateway of India instead of India Gate

11) green colored CNG buses replaced by red colored BEST buses with all directions written in marathi except 'Purchase your ticket'

11) no more nosey neighbors or prying public, only the bindaas bombayite, who can be very impersonal at times

12) paneer has been elevated to the status of "Chef's Special" and so has its cost(!!)

13) I no longer begin my day hearing MC, BC and its cousins

14) I am learning to value time

15) I am enjoying the sense of independence that Mumbai has given me!!!!

Walled City to Maximum City

2007-06-02T18:59:00.000+01:00

2 months in Bombay and my good self can see the difference between saddi dilli and amchi mumbai. here are a few.....

1) first and foremost- I don’t think I am short anymore! (the delhi crowd gave me a complex!)

2) fat aunties with low neck crepe suits and fatter uncles yapping in punjabi have given way to fit dada and dadis jabbering in marathi

3) neon colored polythene lifafas have been replaced by psychedelic prints-wali thaili

4) sweaters have given way umbrellas and rain coats

5) no more papdi chat, dahi bhalley, chole bhature, jus vada pav, pav bhaji, pav samosa, pav this, pav that

6) bbye golgappe, hello pani puri :~(

7) no more lecherous looking uncles, infact hardly any leching these days and a man to woman conversation happens eye to eye (thank god)

8) um still trying to find a woman who wears make up, as contrasted to the quintessential delhi woman with all the make up on her face 24/7

9) sleek metro is no longer a luxury, only ur local Mumbai local

10) we have gateway of India instead of India Gate

11) green colored CNG buses replaced by red colored BEST buses with all directions written in marathi except ‘Purchase your ticket’

11) no more nosey neighbors or prying public, only the bindaas bombayite, who can be very impersonal at times

12) paneer has been elevated to the status of “Chef’s Special” and so has its cost(!!)

13) I no longer begin my day hearing MC, BC and its cousins

14) I am learning to value time

15) I am enjoying the sense of independence that Mumbai has given me!!!!

"Leema, i got transferred"

2007-05-06T18:48:00.000+01:00

This is the line that sister and me dreaded everytime we were in a particular city for about 3 years. My dad has a transferable job and he is one of those few employees who LIKES transfers.
A 'few years' back to when i was 6 yrs old (i am not very old) when dad got transferred to Madras (Back then it was Madras) In fact he wanted to transfer himself to Madras for he wanted 'without Mallu accented English' speaking daughters. So we shifted ourselves from Alwaye (Kerala). Madras gave us a slight culture shock. Children conversed in English and my knowledge of English was restricted to 'cat', 'bat' and 'rat'. Others spoke Tamil- a word of which i didnt know. I didnt speak for a month to anyone outside home (for ppl who know-this should surprise them!!!). In a month we joined our new school, learnt the new language (English and Tamil-all the English i know today and my accent is courtesy our stint in Madras), ate tamilian food etc. All this for 5 years....

Just wen we got comfortable, the dreaded fone call came. “Leema, I got transferred”. This time we packed off to Bombay (it was Bombay back then). From now on the cultural shock was less, cause we were used to city life. But now everybody spoke hindi and i had to study marathi for school.

Two yrs later, the call came again. This time to Kerala- a stint we or rather i didnt enjoy much. We lived near our relatives, so we HAVE to meet them every sunday for some function. I didnt miss my cousins anymore, so i no longer had the excitement to meet them. Dad saw this coming, he too felt that we relegating back to the 'rice and fish' culture (i would like to mention here tat dad has the highest regard for mallu culture, but he didnt like those functions eating into our study time)

then the calls became frequent- Kerala to Delhi, Delhi to Chennai(ya then it became Chennai), Chennai to Delhi- then in Delhi for 6 looong years. Till the call came again....this time to Mumbai (name changed!!)

Thanx to transfers, we have a cosmopolitan upbringing, we know more languages, more places, friends in these places, 7 schools (thankfully only one college) i did grades 8-12th in 4 different schools!!! Transfers made us bold and confident. We are 'non mallu accented english speaking' girls!!...But transfers also made us thick skinned and hard hearted. We longer feel very close to people. We are apprehensive of getting close to people, cause we know that one day soon we have part. People say that we have friends all over, but line 'keep in touch haan..' is just a formality. Nobody keeps in touch- even with the advent of orkut, hi-fi. When we go to any place, we have an identity crisis- we are not south indians for an ordinary south indian- we are dilli or mumbaiwaalis, while we are in the north, we are tambis!!

But Dad was very particular that we always see transfers in positive light, we just could not complain about a transfer. “Every new place holds new opportunities”- thus spake dad. Lets see wat oppurtunity this mumbai stint has in store....

Rickshaw ride....

2007-04-19T17:04:00.000+01:00

Delhi is known to be one place where the past and present are closely linked wid each other, so much so that every dilapidated building has a history. Mum and urs truly jus need an excuse to go and explore a new place. so today we decided to head to sadar bazzar thru an unexplored route. for the uninitiated, sadar is delhi's age old wholesale market, with each 'gali' specialising in a particular product, along wid scary looking ppl, pollution, animals which add to the fun. and y do we head there...well to eat chole bhature and great discounts!!!

so at 40 C, 1.30 pm ventured out. hopped into the metro. got down at 'new delhi'. went by my 'gut' feeling. took the wrong turn. landed up in 'kamla market' (back in first yr of college i was told that Kamla market is near GB Road-one of delhis biggest red light areas). fought wid the rickshaw pullers to take us by the road we knew, none agreed. then bargained wid the rickshaw pullers abt the price. finally we are seated on a royal rickshaw, as it has no roof we cover our heads wid scarves.

the ride begins, and um looking at the 'new' street. the new street is better as there us lesser traffic. mebbe because of its afternoon. strangely there are very few women on this route. and the few women who are present on the street are passing contemptuous looks. thats strange. havent they seen women travel alone on this road.

soon the suspence ends...closer scrutiny of the address of the area reveals that mum and urs truly are on GB ROAD!!!!!!!! and we are two women wid our lovely (ahem) faces covered wid scarves!!!need i say more....

(oh ya the exploration trips have been stalled for sometime now)

Smart Girl

2007-04-18T19:13:00.000+01:00

'Just wat have u done to ur hair....kid are u alright'!!!! thus screamed mother.

"nindey mudi (ur hair)...this costed u a grand!!!!"- dad joined in wid that disapproving look.

few weeks back.....

mum plz let me get it done..plz plz plz...look at my hair, when i tie it up it looks like ageing horses tail (no more the perky 'pony'tail)

but do u think it worth all the chemicals, u r not a kid now, u know we have to go to kerala this year...

mum plz plz plz......

go and ask dad

"dad i wanna do something to my hair, u wont understand wat it is. but its gonna cost"(sheepish grin)

how much

'one grand'

"ONE GRAND!!!!' (muscles tense, eyes turn red..thankfully breathing returns to normal)...listen u r a responsible girl...i hope u know wat u r doing." (that means i wont buy u a wig if burn all ur hair)

and wat did responsible girl do???...she underwent 'permanent waving' (perm for the uninitiated)....hey then y this reaction- preity zinta, meg ryan, nicole kidman, even oprah looked good....because some ppl also end up looking like this.
http://images.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/07/29/images/2006072903060201.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/07/29/stories/2006072903060200.htm&amp;h=300&w=265&sz=28&hl=en&start=1&tbnid=ssNM7_n3EL4UZM:&amp;tbnh=116&tbnw=102&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmakrand%2Bdespande%26gbv%3D2%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den
no i didnt grow a mush tho thankfully!!!

(i didnt bother much abt the formatting..i have hair to take care of)

2007-02-26T16:59:00.000Z

Being Balbir Singh.....

"Bhaiyya mai...."
-(oh no not again!!...y God y do u do this to me....)
"Jee theek hai"
-(1 2 3 jerk....wow it didnt turn off today)

"bhaiyya station change karna...yeh wala nahi...102"
-(there she goes ...changing the station again..she cant control the wheel and she wants to multitask!)

"haan...hi yaar...kaisi hai"
-(damn these cell fones..the light has turned green..the cars behind are honking..hang up will u!)
"woh gaadi peechey horn maar rahi hai"
"haan haan bhaiyya ek minute...chal vidhi rakti hoon...bye"

-(ridge road..thank heavens its a straight road, no bends or turns.. smooooth)
"THUD"
-(wat the....)
"gaddha dekhke"

"bhaiyya parking mein dal dena"
-(Another day another ride is over and am ALIVE!!!!)

Thoughts of our driver and trusted friend, Balbir Singh ji when i am driving. He has a family to feed and no insurance policy for cover, but fought all odds to 'try' teaching me to drive. Its been 5 yrs since i got d licence, but i cant control the wheel or park or take reverse, but i can drive straight...straight into a ditch! And he still has hope.....

2007-02-20T15:56:00.000Z

"khaney mein kya laya hai varun?"

"tera favourite, gobhi"

"jo doosron ke liye gaddha khodta hai, woh usmein khud gir jaata hai"

"pata hai mayo mein na...."

"namrata ghar se 'sussie' ke laddoo layi hai"

"mujhe kaalu bhula rahi hai, woh badla lega!!!!"

"toom log kya kar rahey ho...main bhi karrrooonga!!"

"...(silence).....ke baat se chori.....(eternal silence)......"

Why do these thoughts keep coming back and haunt me? I saw this coming, one day we all had to part ways. But i never thought it would affect me as i have been shifting base most of my life.....Mebbe because in the past 4 1/2 years they had a powerful impact on me, the most powerful till date. They are addictive and now its the withdrawal symptoms.

....vidhi, varun, neha, akshat, dhannu, addy, vipin.....pyaas ke paranthe, 'kal-raat-ki-subzi' ke paranthe, bhaigan ka bharta....the red brick wall, the endless chit-chat in class, futile plans to go to assam, karnal kahaanis, jamunapaari jokes, fash p, rakesh sirs class, last minute moot submissions, varuns lunch, gluttony at my place (leading to depleting stocks of the months provision), mayo.......

2007-02-15T15:15:00.000Z

V-day is here again!!!

Y day I celebrated my 23rd 'single' valentines day. Actually all my V days have been 'single v days' coz I don't believe in being committed for the sake of being committed (read a passive and lazy person who hopes for a marriage broker to do the needful!). but V days have always been eventful. On one of my V days I got to know that the guy who I had a huge crush on was interested in my best friend!!! (Ouch!)

In my first v day in college I got a whole bar of chocolate from a nice friend (tho I was one of his many friends who got it- but its chocolate who cares, I jus want the whole bar to myself!!!!) and that was my one and only v day gift till date. The second V day in college, there was a huge fight among the guys (for as usual a trivial reason). Third valentine had all my friends pack ourselves to CP and watch other couples. V 4 girlfriends nearly created a rift between a couple as when his girlfriend was busy trying some outfit, the boyfriend was more interested in talking to us. Finally he left the store and she didn't buy anything. 4 th valentine in college, our results were out!!! That is my college's method of playing the moral police - release the result and dampen the sprits of most of the students. 5th valentine in college (that is yesterday) was ruined by my dads foul mood (over the ever increasing phone bill I think), thereby making my mums efforts a complete waste of time.

As for me neither do i have to do anything, neither do i feel good or bad abt wat i did... Um so happy being single on valentine…..

2007-02-04T15:20:00.000Z

this is my all time fav forward... reply to a matrimonial classified

I am an olden young uncle living only with myself in Bangaloru. Having seen your advertisement for marriage purposes, I decided to press myself on you and hope you will take me nicely.

I am a soiled son from inside Karnataka. I am nice and big, six foot tall and six inches long. My body is filled with hardness, as because I am working hardly. I am playing hardly also. Especially I like cricket and I am a good batter and I am fast baller. Whenever I come running in for balling, other batters start running. Everybody is scared of my rapid balls that bounce a lot.

I am very nice man. I am always laughing loudly at everyone. I am jolly. I am gay.Especially ladies, they are saying I am nice and soft. I am always giving respect to the ladies. I am always allowing ladies to get on top. That is how nice I am.

I am not having any bad habits. I am not drinking and I am not sucking tobacco or anything else. Every morning I am going to the gym and I am pumping like anything. Daily I am pumping and pumping. If you want you can come and see how much I am pumping the dumb belles in the gym.

I am having a lot of money in my pants and my pants is always open for you. I am such a nice man, but still I am living with myself only. What to do? So I am taking things into my own hands everyday.That is why I am pressing myself on you, so that you will come in my house and take my things into your hand.

If you are marrying me madam, I am telling you, I will be loving you very hard every day. In fact, I will stop pumping dumb belles in the gym. If you are not marrying me madam and not coming to me, I will press you and press you until you come.

So I am placing my head between your nicely smelling feet and looking up with lots of hope. I am waiting very badly for your reply and I am stiff with anticipation

Expecting soon,

Yours and only yours

2007-02-01T17:15:00.001Z

i am biologically a female, but somewhere i wasnt blessed with that touch of feminity. i am at times jealous of those girls who can carry off anything pink and look girly and cute. my attempts at wearing pink made look like well um trying not to remember.

back when i was a kid, my folks got me a pair of shorts. i was so relieved that i no longer needed to be bothered by the breeze the next time it came, that i banned skirts and every other lowers-without-a-seat at bay. little did i know that i bade my feminity also goodbye. once ppl asked my father 'the kid' (urs truly) was a boy or a girl, as they had a bet on my gender!!!

after realisation dawned on me, every year i think that i need an extreme makeover and add that feminine touch to my personality and every year has me heading to a cosmetic store to get myself some of the following-a chocolate shower gel, a sunscreen with really high SPF, a lip balm with an exotic flavor, a face scrub, a BIG bottle of moisturising lotion blah blah.. then begin the attempts to grow my nails, leave my hair open, wear salwar kameez with open sandals.

a week later- the ants sensed the presence of "chocolate" lying in the corner of the bathroom, some tasted it and died. the sunscreen now adorns a dusty basket in my room. the fruity lip balm gives me a headache. the face scrub is getting dry. moisturising lotion is awaiting winter, when my mum will use it. my right eye has a red spot as my 'long' nail poked it accidently. my hair is cut short. my feet is black with delhi's dust. and i have a pile of kurtas and pyajamas to iron!!!

feminity anyone??

2007-01-31T18:04:00.000Z

the post office

i took a resolution mid last year that i shall do all my application work on my own (which in itself is a long story). part of this new challenge had me walking in and out sarkari offices for attestation and other routine formalities. this adventure today took me to the Post Office, Rajinder Nagar. now um not really proud to admit this, but it was my first visit to a post office.

firstly ever since it became functional the office, the furniture and its employees have not been renovated or changed respectively . the dim tube-lights, plastic wired chairs with wooden frames, the green colored glass, the extra-milky tea transported me to a bygone era. secondly service to the public is not really their first priority, but harassing the public definitely is.

i went there with the same enthusiasm and excitement as is present when i go to the DHL office only to find the lady at the enquiry counter 'not at her seat'! and nobody else in the office was really interested in helping the confused souls like me. so i waited diligently hoping that someone wud help me out. 25 minutes into this ordeal one 'uncle' came out from the inner office and i quickly pushed my envelope into his face asking him (requesting rather) to 'pleeese' tell me the denomination of the stamp. as per the rules, he weighed the package and pondered for some time before muttering 'pandra rupay'. now purchasing stamps dont take much time as its they who r getting the money. with the exact change provided, stamp purchased and stuck and all that jazz, i was told to leave my envelope at one corner table!!!

this is how i posted my acceptance to an offer for a course that um dying to pursue for the last one year. but for that business reply card with a post box address, i wud have couriered it by my trusted DHL. if the particular office receives my acceptance (which i hope and pray it does), i am going to nominate the indian post offer as one of the 'wonders of the world'!!!

2007-01-31T17:49:00.000Z

this is, to be honest, my fifth attempt to blog. i always signed up, chose the fanciest template and by the time my now-outdated-but-still-trustworthy dial-up connection managed to reach the page for 'creating new post' i lost interest! this time they bugged me more by telling this computer-illiterate soul that they had some new exciting features so 'upgrade now'!!! in other words this time i will have to wait another extra 15 minutes, so that i again lose interest. but this time i decided to be patient as i have nothing else to interest me.

now that i am finally here, my next task is to find out for exactly how long i will stay here. (considering my other endeavours i really dont think it will last long)