I remember.

“Shhh!! Don’t tell mom”, you told me on being asked why you were limping. I remember gasping in shock to see blood on your feet. I was shivering when you whispered that you stepped on broken glass. I was only relieved when Mom noticed you were limping and dragged you to the doctor on seeing blood on your chappals. And I only could say “Sorry Anna” on seeing you in pain.

I remember jumping from terrace to terrace in the typical Bangalore suburb setting we stayed in, to look for you, who I knew would be busy flying kites with Babu, Bailu, jayyu, Suri,…(they sound like goonda names now). 

I remember fighting with you every single day over some silly thing. Fights that would result in me wailing and you giving up. 

I remember mom yelling that we are the worst siblings ever cos we fight like dogs and that we should learn from other kids. And I actually believed that only WE were the only kids who fought.

I remember you reaching up to the dabba in which tamarind was stored to sneak a piece to me, cos I could’t reach it.

I remember you convincing to read comics instead of playing in sand. :)

I remember that day you went to the hostel and not realizing you would’t stay with us for 3 years.

I remember the day I ran behind the bike,when uncle took you to the bus stand after summer holidays, tears running down my face.

I remember you holding the cycle for me when I was learning to ride.

I remember the summer where you grew taller by 2 feet. 

I remember coming to visit you in the hostel, and you showing us around proudly, holding back tears when time came for us to leave.

I remember losing appetite when I was told you accidentally poured hot water on yourself.

I remember your first job, your first salary.

I remember you bargaining for a kinetic at home.

I remember those amazing omelets you made for me on Saturdays.

I remember your first promotion.

I remember those million times you have lent me your bike.

I remember you bringing a Barbie for me, cos I complained that you never gave me proper ‘Gifts’ and only cash for every occasion. (and just because I did’t have a Barbie when I was a little girl)

I remember the times I have hurt you by mean words and not even apologised.

I remember those times we’ve eaten dinner in silence, absolutely determined we would’t say a word to each other ever after that chattered away just a day later.

I remember you protectively walking by me on the crowded streets.

I remember having been upset that you din tell me that were seeing someone .

I remember being thrilled that you were getting married. 

I remember crying the happy tears when you did my kanyadaan.

I remember the joy I felt when I knew your son was born.

I want to tell you, I remember. Everything. I might not mention it. But I do love you.

It’s not your Birthday, Nor is it Rakhi. (Well, it’s your Wedding Anniversary tomorrow. )

But , I want you to know, You are the best brother I could have asked for.

Thanks for being my Brother.

  Chitli

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Hail Remy!!

It's been a while since I've blogged from the phone. But I could't resist. Our favorite shack is up. And our weekends are kind of booked. :).
Remy's shack is up and we kind of inaugurated our winter shack visit. Nice fish, some beer and feels like home.
Weekend begins.
Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone Essar

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Declaration of Love

What does it take for the person you love, to know you do?

Should I wait for the perfect evening, a fantastic sunset and a candle-lit dinner to look into his eyes and gently say “I love you”? Or should I take the more vociferous path and stand on the echoing 

hills of some strange place and scream it, so it comes back, loud?

Will buying an airplane (or a fleet) and naming it after him suffice? Or should I try building a monument of Marble?

Should I write a poem? Or a fancy letter?

Should I carve my declaration on anything I find??

I’m told that one doesn’t need declaration to love or be loved. Well. The logic does understand. The romantic in me disagrees.

Once in a while, it doesn’t hurt anyone. Does it?

Declare, when you feel like, I say!

Here is one declaration i found on a train recently.

Way to go Manoj- or Abarna. :)

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Confessions of an impatient driver

As I slammed the brakes of my 10 year old Maruti 800, I flinched. I wondered how long is this car of mine bear with me . Pushing the worry out of my mind for future reference (as in when I reach home), I tried to focus on climbing the slope of the exit. “Left? Right? Left? Right? Was there a right choice? Which would give me lesser traffic to deal with? “. Yeah, I’m dramatic that way. And left I go. Rejoice on seeing a clear street. But, least did I know it was the calm before the storm. (yeah, more drama). After covering a furlong (what? That word is still in use!!), I noticed the cause for the empty street. JAM. I was stuck the end of what seemed like a long line.  Reverse!! But face a monster sized Safari right behind. I’m not going anywhere for a while. Hello, crabby me!! After what could be 15 mins and several under-the-breath curses, there was some movement ahead. The idiot who had caused the jam, with the badly parked omni, was found. Cars started moving. The idiots(yes, there were plenty), who had climbed on the pavement, with their bikes that is, hurriedly climbed down to the street. But crabby was not in a mood to rejoice. All crabby wanted was to go home and do nothing. When it was my turn to move, first gear, second and then third, and BRAKE! A head bobs in and out and in and out from a new Swift. Ah, I get it. New car. He needs to be sure that he gets his “Babe” home safe. While he leaves safely from my right, throws me a grateful smile (for waiting patiently. Hah!) I throw him a look that says, ‘Well, congrats on ur new car. But get the hell out of my way’. He was gone by the time I could make up my mind if I wanted to slam into his car or just yell at him. Finally, free streets. Yeah, Gear number 4 springs to action and I’m whizzing home. I get home. Phew! What a day!

The next day begins with equal impatience. Getting my insurance renewed was the task of the day and I was late. I wondered why is it that when you are in a super hurry, others tend to move in superer slow motion. Well, I couldn’t help but swish and swerve and rush. And I finally got there. I was told to give a copy of my Driver’s license. While I was filling the renewal form, it registered that my license on that day was exactly 7 months old. That meant, I was on the streets, in my car, for all of 7 months. AND I’d turned into a monster already. I shamefully remembered my Driving lessons where I’d drive at a snail-pace while other drivers patiently waited behind for space. And if someone impatient passed by me, almost pushing me into the ditch, I determinedly promised myself that I would never be one of those. And that I would have patience and respect for everyone on the street. In my arrogance of having learnt the art of driving and mastering the confidence, forgotten my promise to self. I was really ashamed. For that one moment, I thought I din deserve the license. Well, I think the RTO should start taking a bond signed for nice behavior for drivers.

Well, I had amends to make. It meant starting fresh and with patience. Well, I think now the world has one less impatient driver to deal with.

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Travel underrated!

I remember the times when I've eagerly waited for the travel plans, conceived at least a month in advance and carefully checked and rechecked for possible flaws, gingerly move into reality. The exotic locales, shopping surprises, must see points, must eat –at joints.....everything so glorified. So much of time invested in keeping everything safe and perfect.  Not that I've not been on those "carefree-careless" trips. Have done few of those. But there has always been an element of preplanned comfort.

That afternoon when we set of one of our longest day journeys by train, I was apprehensive. One, cos the trip was short and decided on at the spurt of the moment. Two, we were to travel by a chair car on a 11 hour journey. Three, it is to a city I'm in awe of and am  terrified of at the same time. Mumbai.

As soon as we entered the compartment, a face hounded us "what are your seat numbers?". I wanted to tell him, “You are loud AND ur face is too big. And why the hell should I tell you our seat numbers”. I guess the unplanned trip is going to be difficult. But, the kind of person I am,I flashed him a half sweet smile and gave him our seat numbers. We were requested to sit on another pair of seats cos our seats were bang in middle of their 'family of 30 nos'. Okay! Moved. We happy. They happy.

 We eat the lunch on Shatabdi. They eat the lunch on  Shatabdi. We are done. So is the rest of the train I guess. They continue to eat. I see a man from that family make some Chaat.  And then the noise begins. All the mummies in the noisy gujju family of 30 ,get to fatten up their babies and hubbies. And then the well fed mummies, babies and hubbies decide to give it all and start the all time fav torture antakshari.

I was glad I had come armed with a book. A fat one. And earphones. While I secretly devised/plotted schemes involving waking up the sleeping gujjus with buckets of cold water if I ever got a chance, Shantaram-the book I'd wisely brought along, slowly took me in. And then the Konkan region we were travelling thru had me wishing I was driving thru it. I'd never known that this belt was this lovely. Perfectly green, dotted with lovely water- falls (that might even give a mighty complex to our local beauty dudhsagar falls) and the kind of riverside you only conjure up in your head if you've heard a story of it.

I wish i had taken more pictures along the way. But my creative part of the brain had gone to sleep with all the extra loud antakshari session.

The Indian railway on-rail catering team kept sweeping in with samosas, cutlets and soups even. I've eaten to keep busy/ sane/both, I know. :)

I knew that I cud do without the 30 odd voices digging my brains out my ears with all that singing. But, I also knew that it all added the character to this trip.

To top it all, the train was late by 2 hours over the scheduled arrival. I wonder if it was the revenge of all the Gujjus I’ve ever made fun of.

Cheers to shantaram, konkan coast, indian railways, gujjus who can't sing and Mumbai.

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Immortals of Meluha- Review.

When I packed my bags this time, I did so with a lot of care. I took only what was highly necessary. No, this was not about travelling light. (wicked smiles). It was to ensure that I had enough space for all the lovely books that I had to carry back. Called the bookstore ahead to make sure I get all the books I need. Armed with a long list, I bugged ‘the Bookworm guy’. He patiently noted the names I was shooting at him. And told me to come about an hour later. I decided to give him more than an hour. After all, some titles were relatively new.

Kiran, no longer ‘the bookworm guy’, had found all the books I needed. And some precious pre-read (shmancy name for used) copies too.  And then it began, like every time I hit a bookstore. A few more titles got added to the stack. I stopped before it would get very difficult to decide. I turned down a few suggestions and freezed my loot at 8 books. And bang on my budget. I was proud of myself. That I did not give in to the huge temptation or Kiran’s encouraging ‘one more wonly madam’. He finally gave up. Or so I thought. When another fella did my bill, kiran came back with a book and said in his signature syle, “ayyo, I forgot this completely. You shouldddd buy this.” I was prepared for it. I go, “ No, No. Not this time. Next time. Let me finish these first. What is it called by the way?” And hurried to pay my bill. ‘Immortals of Meluha’. And I go, “oh, okay. But not now.” He then plays his trump card without realizing it. “Madam, it is about Lord Shiva. The whole country is reading it”. My mind had stopped at ‘Shiva’ and I grabbed the book from his hand. Never judge a book by it’s cover they say. I broke that rule. I had to have the book, at least the cover. The Mighty Himalayas and a beautiful lake as the background, the object of my undivided attention, had Shiva, his back turned to me and a Trishul in the centre. Shiva in a book and a fiction at that, is something I had to try.

Immortals of Meluha is a debut by Amish Tripathi. His first of the trilogy. And a very brave attempt. Brave ,because, he chose to write about a Hindu God for a majority of  the readers who have probably grown up listening to plenty of stories about the book’s main character. Would this story be different? If yes, how far could the author afford to go? If no, why would someone buy this book?

I tried not to be too judgmental. And read the book as a neutral book lover. Not be blinded by my fascination for Shiva. And so I read on.

The review ahead might be a spoiler for few. For those who might not want to read the obvious but important chapter out of the book, turn back. The rest, continue.

The book tells us how, Shiva, a simple Man from the Himalayan Mountains, was turned into a legend by a few turn of events. Shiva, who accidentally develops a blue throat on drinking the Somras(otherwise knows as the drink of gods) and according a long-before told legend, is expected to lead the good side (the Suryavanshis) to be victorious over the bad side(The Chandravanshis). Amish does a good job describing his main character taking care to add all the details that we love Shiva for (the looks, the dancing prowess, the anger, the wit, the passion,..). The description of Chandravanshis match the description of Modern day India complete with potholed roads. The story seems to be in a hurry though. I wish Amish would’ve taken more time and paid attention to his other few characters and made the book seem a little less messy. The book is dotted with pleasant suspense sections and some amusing lines.

The two things about the book I am not a great fan of:

1. I only could not bring myself to believe that my beloved Shiva was a Tibetan. No way!
2. The Author, to make the book run at the pace of a thriller has lost track half way and added unnecessary unconnected sequences.

But I have to give it Amish. He has made me finish this book less than 2 days of reading time (reading between work and home) and wait eagerly for his next. I guess waiting is fun.

The trailer for the book is interesting.

 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFvjooEhOtM&feature=related

More reviews coming up. I have the guns… errr… books ready.

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bring the umbrellas out. Again!

Monsoons have picked up a flair for fooling us Goans. After leaving Goa wet and mossy, and being applauded for the best in 5 years, the monsoons pretended to take our leave. And just when we thought the clothes would dry crisp in the sun, it's back to soak us all. Poor umbrellas will have to wait a little longer for their hibernation. :). And this little fella has no problems with the rain.

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Rio, Our 'little' Hound.

This is Rio. He's an Indian Hound. The breed is Mudhol. They are native to the Southern part of India, state of Karnataka. This one is just 5 months of age. A riot already. A stark change at home in comparision to our well behaved queen Genie who's a 11 yr labrador. He keeps us on our toes. Well, we love him for just that.

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Jasmines, Lillies and Rain

It has been a busy week but I'm not complaining for a change. I've been wanting to hunt and shoot some pictures for a while. With the rains and all. With absolutely no time i thought i'd do the honors this weekend. But, i lost my resolve today and here i am with some pictures of the beautiful flowers and plants in my garden and then the battery died on me. :(. Well more tomorrow.

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Scribble. yay!!

Sachin found this great application for me on phone. It's called scribble. Now i can scribble all i want and upload it here. Fun! This elephant is something i learnt to sketch in school. I was surprised i could draw it after so long.

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Teacher.

I've heard that Life is the most patient teacher of all. It makes you go through the same things till you learn, till you grow, till u accept to change for better. I wonder if this teacher has pet students and if these are let off easy. It's strange how much one rebuke from life can change your perspective. I've probably been a bad student. I hope the patience with me continues.  :).
Here's one picture from Sachin's  album to go with the mood.

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Really?

Well,as if to prove to myself that i'm sane, i started what i loved doing few years back. Making random sketches. These sketches usually show me what i'm feeling at one point cause these are made without deliberation. They just happen. Today's sketch surprised  me. It definitely did not prove any sanity.

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Silly Me.

One of those days where blogging seems meaningless. So does watching TV. Or reading a book. or a ringing a friend up. Or just about anything. Feels strangely empty. But not Sad. The only thing meaningful seems taking a deep breath and starting the day all over again, with a new background music, a softer one.

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Dino comes home.

I've always wanted to name one of my pets Dino (as in "Dye no"). Now i already have the likes of Brandy, Genie and Rio already who are 2 labradors and 1 Indian Hound respectively. But i guess the next one will be Dino. I recently picked up a lil Hippo from a Home Deco Expo. I find his shaking head very cute. He has to get a place on my Blog. So here goes

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Where's the Beach??

After what seems like a long long time (and some ) we took off gallivanting. And it felt so nice. The rain drops on your face can be good healer I've learnt. We went to our favorite Beach. And were shocked!! The Beach wasn't there. The Rains had eaten away most of it. But the sight was still so beautiful. I wonder if i'm insane. Some more Rain's fury pictures in the next post

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