Reverberations

HAPPY FEET

2008-07-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

When I started running early this year, I used to put on my regular sneakers and go for the runs. I had a goal of being able to run 5K on a regular basis and wanted to reward myself for achieving that goal. What better reward than a good pair of running shoes? Since the program was following a gradual progression to 5K, the longer runs did not come until towards the end of the program, and was able to get away running in my sneakers. But as I continued running 5K 3 days a week, I noticed that my feet hurt. That reminded me of the promise I had made to myself. I headed to a local running store and bought myself a good pair of running shoes.

My running shoes - Nike Air Pegasus

Now my feet don't hurt and I feel a marked difference in the running experience from before. Here are some things that I learned while shopping for my running shoes.

A running store helps - I had a very good shopping experience at my local running store. The sales people were real runners. They started off by identifying my foot type and suggested the best shoes for my foot type. I was able to get a real feel of the different shoes I tried, by running around the store or on the treadmill in the store. They gave me all the guidance that I needed to choose the right kind of shoe, without being pushy about making a choice. I would highly recommend going to a running store where one can get personalized attention over buying something at the mall.
Your running shoe should be a size bigger than your regular shoes. Our feet expand on running; the bigger shoe size gives your feet some room to move.
Mesh-work on the shoe is an indicator of a good running shoe. The mesh allows your feet to breathe which helps, since feet get hot and sweaty during a run.

MIND GAMES

2008-04-28T16:55:00.000-07:00

My body had gotten into a nice rhythm. A breeze sent a heavenly waft from the citrus blooms along the running trail.

I came to the narrow sidewalk under the bridge. I disliked this patch - it was very narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk comfortably. Many times there would be a water puddle or contents of a discarded cup lying around. This would require me to slow down and watch my step. I imagined bats lived here, in the dark corners, where light wouldn’t reach. As I passed by here, I would be concerned that a bird would send its poop on me. I disliked it even more when I would see a dog owner walk with a mean looking dog from the opposite direction. I would slow my pace as the duo approached, fearful that the dog might grab my ankle if I were running. But the dogs here are too well behaved; it would pass by without even sniffing and I would heave a sigh of relief. My breath would quicken when I would spot a hulky male coming from the other side. On such occasions, I would try to recollect some prayers, only partially meet his eyes and move away as quickly as possible, always checking my shoulder. The road under the bridge was usually busy with traffic and there wasn’t a remote possibility of anything happening. But such is my mind….

It is on this queasy patch that I saw her. I came across a chubby kid first. I wondered why he was alone without a guardian. Then at the far end of the tunnel, I saw a tall figure entering. “May be that’s his mother” I thought. But in a flash of a second I realized that she was THE 'snake girl'. I bolted…

She is fair, blonde, tall and walks gracefully. The two times that I have seen her, she was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Slung across her shoulder like a backpack was a snake, a python I think. A friend had pointed her to me when we were driving, but I didn’t see her then and it probably didn’t register.

After a few days, I was walking back home after my evening walk. I saw a girl walking towards me. From a distance it appeared like she was carrying a backpack. She was probably 20ft away when it hit me that it was a snake and not a backpack. It was more out of disgust than fear that I turned around and ran to find my friend, eager to tell her what I had just seen. I was a little excited that evening after this episode, but I laughed at myself as I recounted the incident to many. I decided I would stop, talk to her and have a good look at her snake the next time our paths crossed. I far from stopped during our 2^nd encounter, I probably ran faster than before.

Every time I am under this narrow, dimly lit bridge or approaching a blind corner, my mind turns to this girl and I worry - will she emerge?

AN EVENING TO REMEMBER

2008-04-18T08:33:00.000-07:00

...is what the evening of 1st June will be, given that the maestros are performing!

WILL CODE FOR FREE

2008-04-14T15:06:00.000-07:00

No false promises, hidden charges or anything in the fine print. For details click here.

I'd appreciate if you could spread the word :)

ALONE

2008-04-11T17:14:00.000-07:00

I sit slouched on the couch, laptop on my lap, meaninglessly surfing the internet and refreshing my email page every five minutes or so. I look back at the clock on the wall. It is 5 o’clock. On any other day, I would be outside my apartment complex waiting for you to go to the park for a walk or a run. But today is different - I ignore the clock’s toll and sink even deeper into the couch. I don’t feel like heading out; not yet. 45 minutes later I have overcome my inertia and I head out. I consider carrying my iPod along but instead take my cell phone.

I take a deep breath and start walking. I pause briefly outside your apartment, as if waiting for you to emerge – silly me! I have an idea; I call your cell phone, only to reach your voicemail. Just as I am telling myself to gear up to be alone henceforth, you call. We chat for a little bit, then, you hang up and I am alone again.

I don’t spot many familiar faces on the trail today. But when I do see one, I smile at them eagerly, hoping they stop me and ask about your absence. None does. With no one to point new flowers to, or share the excitement over spotting a new bird, or exchange notes of domesticity and satisfy the inherent girlish (or womanly) need to babble, the trail seems to stretch longer than usual. I try to focus my mind on something other than our times together.

I get back home after an hour that seemed painfully long. No extra gossip time at your apartment steps today, nor any beseeching to stop by for a cup of chai. Hmm..I’ll brew my own chai or even better, make myself some lemonade from the lemons you left for me… :)

OFF THE COUCH

2008-03-14T16:20:00.000-07:00

I was never a sports person, not even the kind that spends time watching and cheering for a favorite team.

An uncle of mine, a yoga exponent introduced me to sun salutations. I never imagined myself to be flexible enough to do yoga, yet I started practicing sun-salutations; more to stay trim than as a fitness regimen. Over time, I was exposed to more yoga. To my surprise, I found that I was pretty flexible (at least more than I had imagined) and was able to do the asanas pretty well. That sure motivated me. Somewhere during my late teens, staying fit gained as much priority as staying trim. Also, I began to feel the need for some aerobic activity - as a consequence I started jogging/running. The sprawling campus of the colony where I lived provided the perfect environment; serene, quiet, pollution-free and traffic-less.

And so I have been running for many years now; for this post, let us focus on running for fitness and stay away from all other connotations (for those of you who know me - running away from being a responsible organized adult and whatever else your mind can conjure). My running regimen has always been ad-hoc, unstructured and prone to long lapses; of course one can’t run during the persistent monsoon and I used to find it extremely difficult (maybe impossible) to wean myself from my warm rajai in the cold winters and summers are too hot to be out running anyways. Despite my irregular running schedule, I have observed that I enjoy running. I like it for the meditative rhythm that it puts me into while I am at it…for the ‘runner’s high’….and also for the sweet hurt. Considering my cushy, laid-back lifestyle and proclivity to gain weight, I decided, it was time to embark on a regular fitness regimen and make running a part of it.

I stumbled upon the ‘couch to 5K’ running program while surfing the internet. I found that the program has been around a while and has many followers. It seemed simple and doable; I decided to give it a try. ‘M’ jumped at the idea and decided to be my running buddy. I also discovered Robert Ullrey’s podcasts for each of the couch to 5K workouts. The podcasts are wonderful; they save you from keeping track of time or distance and make the workout a lot of fun. 3 cheers to Robert!! :)

We run MWF and I am in the middle of Week2. I hope to complete the program by mid-May and continue regularly with my 5K runs. Who knows, someday I might even run a marathon!

If you are looking for a program to get off the couch, this is worth a try. Go for it!

I’d also like to hear your experiences about running, couch to 5K and anything related that you would like to share. Well, its almost time for today’s run. Adios for this time.

Happy Running!

THE LIFE OF PI

2008-02-07T16:07:00.000-08:00

Beware: Potential spoilers ahead.

The words maths and sci-fi came to mind as soon as I heard about the book that goes by ‘The Life of Pi’. Long, complex looking mathematical equations started darting in front of my eyes whenever I thought of the book. I must mention that the book was recommended to me by a ‘maths-science-and works’ aficionado and I am sure you will agree that my mental imagery wasn’t unfounded. Of course, I couldn’t get myself to read such a book!...it wasn’t ‘my types’…

I don’t remember what exactly made me pick up the book, maybe, it was the knowledge of the fact that India featured in the novel or maybe it was the cover (it sure didn’t look like a sci-fi novel from its cover) or maybe it was just to satisfy my curiosity about the queer title. V started reading the book before me and whenever I’d ask “So what is the book about?” I would hear something like “Don’t know yet”. I decided to find out for myself.

How right he was….believe me, you don’t know where the story is headed till you finish part one of the book, unless of course, you have done some background reading about the book and tried to put the cover in perspective.

Some books get you hooked up from page one, and then there are those that you have to plough through till you get to the interesting parts. I would say Yann Martel’s Life of Pi belongs to the second category. The initial pages are not drab, but as a reader one needs to know where a story is headed no matter how entertaining the read has been so far. “Hang on till part one and then you won’t realize when you finish the book”, some friends had mentioned. So with that hope, I continued to read, page after page, and then I reached a point where I couldn’t keep the book down.

The book begins with the author’s note about the story behind the novel. He mentions meeting an individual in a coffee shop in Pondicherry, India who tells him the story that is now the novel. The references of people and places made me believe that it was a real story that I was reading. Silly me, actually started googling for Pi Patel (the main character of the story) hoping to find some clues about his existence and wondering how I had missed a story so fascinating. Alas, I found out that the novel is a work of fiction. I felt betrayed and berated myself for being naïve, but, full marks to the author for making the story so real and believable. Definitely worth reading!

A SILENT RAIN

2008-02-07T14:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Baba,

I am sitting by the window of my apartment as I write to you. The weather forecast says, rain and thunderstorms are headed our way. I am excited; you know how we looove the rain! :)

The gusty summer showers that relieve us temporarily from the heat….the intoxicating smell of the wet hot earth ….sometimes there is hail and we would run to collect it…if the hailstones were small they would melt away as soon as they’d hit the ground….the bigger ones would stay and we would eat them…sometimes, one of them would hit us hard on the back, as we stooped to collect the ones on the ground.

The monsoon is a different ball game altogether…..the early showers are heavy and make a lot of noise…as if the heavens are lashing out at the earth…or like a child throwing tantrums….then the rain settles into a rhythm….a daily incessant drizzle….as if the heavens have made peace with the earth…. there is another phase of heavy showers before they are gone for good till next year…

I close my eyes and can hear all the rain sounds……the growling thunder…the howling wind……the rustling of the leaves…..then the different sounds of the rain drops…..the first few coming down tentatively tap, tap, tap…….tap, tap, tap, tap,….falling on the ground, on the road, on the roof and the awning outside our verandah….soon the drops would gather speed and before you know they would be coming down in torrents… when it stopped raining, the tip tip of water droplets trickling down from the trees or the window sill or the awning onto the ground…

The initial heavy showers would always mean a power cut; due to a fallen tree over the power lines, or, some other fault…..power cut or otherwise, we would huddle up in chairs in the verandah and soak up the view… sometimes we would need to rush inside to secure the windows, for the haphazardly slanting rain would send water through the windows inside the house…..we would speculate about the rains for the year, make phone calls to friends and relatives and excitedly exchange the rain info …..ginger and lemon grass flavored hot chai and bhajis would arrive from the kitchen….we would continue to talk for hours about this thing and that, until it got too dark to see the rain or, the mosquitoes shooed us away….you would turn of the light in the verandah, because it would attract scores of bugs that would dance around it till they died, and left a mess of their dead bodies on the floor…..you would play a beautiful rendition of some monsoon raga ……we would drift off to sleep listening to the sounds of the rain….

Often I think of the monsoon as a naughty, undisciplined brat, up to some mischief or the other, but, completely unbothered by its acts….yet, I like this brat…..it never fails to evoke a rainbow of emotions; joy and exhilaration mostly dominate the spectrum……it has opened hearts; mine to other people and other people’s to mine….I have noticed a surge in my creativity in its presence …..Alas, I don’t know when I will enjoy the Indian monsoon next… :(

Nothing can compare to our monsoon….O….it has started raining…here the doors and windows are all securely closed; not a sound can be heard, unless, I strain my ears, to hear above the drone of the heater…..neither can I smell the earth…….there seems to be a lot of wind for the trees are shaking violently, but of course, I don’t hear the wind….The rain here is nothing like our rain…..it is disciplined, just like the people here…..it never makes an unexpected call….it arrives on time like a punctual guest and never lingers…there is no informality…..no liberties are taken or given….its well manneredness hurts, seems fake and it fails to reach my soul….

Oh well….is it just me or …? ……..Maybe I should open the windows and try to listen…

LOOK ALIKE

2007-08-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

It was that time of the day, Tunna and Chutki took their places behind the long curtains in the living room. Eyes twinkling with mischief and faces beaming with smiles, they waited for Jiji to arrive at the scene. The big grandfather clock on the wall struck 7 and Jiji came waddling into the room. She chanted her prayers in a murmur and grimaced as she walked; it was the arthritis. There was nobody in the room, she noticed as she squinted from behind her thick glasses. Jiji turned on the TV and slowly settled into her rocking chair.

The TV screen came alive with Jerry trying to run away from Tom; Tunna and Chutki burst into loud giggles. Jiji frowned and called after them. This was the daily prank they played on Jiji. Every evening just before Jiji came to watch her soaps, Tunna changed the channel setting to their favorite Cartoon channel; Chutki liked to play accomplice. They enjoyed seeing Jiji struggle to find her channel; the channel that played all the melodramatic soaps.

Tunna and Chutki were the youngest among Jiji’s pack of grandchildren. Jiji had three sons and they all lived together with their families. Ever since their father’s death 7 years ago, they had brought Jiji to stay with them. Jiji had never wanted to come to the city from Bagra….what did the city have??…she didn’t want to leave her home and her friends, but couldn’t resist her sons’ plea. Nobody really had time for Jiji and she met the family only at night during dinner.

Jiji punched the numbers on the remote and looked up at the TV screen to see if she had found her channel. She muttered something about how naughty Tunna and Chutki were getting and how their generation lacked respect for elders, as she went about this channel scanning exercise. Suddenly her jaw dropped as her gaze settled on the screen. She adjusted her glasses and looked at the screen one more time.

The same straight nose, the same white hair, combed back slickly and the same starched, pure white kurta and the same broad frame. Jiji couldn’t believe her eyes. The man on the screen looked just like Ramcharan, her husband who was no more. The man was speaking a language that was beyond Jiji’s comprehension, but when he smiled…she smiled back, because the smile too was just like Ramcharan’s. She called out for her sons, but no one answered. For an hour Jiji sat there glued.

The family was surprised to see Jiji chirpy and excited at the dinner table but nobody bothered to know why. Jiji’s evenings are no longer lonely. Her hour-long date with Ramcharan daily even keeps her arthritis at bay. Sharing her deepest thoughts…speaking her heart out…reprimanding him about his health…complaining about her sons and daughter-in-laws at times…sharing stories about the city and her grandchildren…the hour seems to fly for Jiji…

RELIANCE SUCKS

2007-08-04T02:40:00.000-07:00

Of late, I have been dishing out small pieces which I consider to be my feeble attempts towards fiction. But this post is very much real and as you will soon realize, about an issue that is close to my heart. Without further ado I will get to the heart of the matter. Please be ready for my rant mode for this post.

Pardon the profanity in the title. However, I am sure anybody in my position would be driven to such extremes. A few months ago we signed up for a broadband internet connection through Reliance. Since we signed up as a group (a bunch of people from my colony) they threw in a free intercom service and waived off the activation fee. We were elated! What the dodo in me failed to note is that we had ended up signing for their phone service for which my family had no real use. Hence, I decided to terminate the phone service and upgrade my broadband to a much better plan.

So pronto I did the needful; switched the broadband plan and put in the request to terminate the phone connection (14^th July 2007). Apparently only a supervisor level individual can take the termination request. So 1^st a regular customer care dude, verified my identity and then put me on hold for 30 minutes at least (seriously, no exaggeration there) so I could be transferred to the supervisor dude. Apparently all the supervisors were busy just the time when I wanted to put in my termination request. I gave them the benefit of doubt and tried to be merry listening to the music track that they play when they put you on hold. O BTW the music really really gets too you as the time you spend holding the call increases. At last, after what seemed like eternity the supervisor came on line. I had to repeat the same verification details, provide him with reasons as to why I want to terminate the connection, etc. I was informed that somebody from another team would contact me to take an appointment so they could visit and take away the phone instrument and finish the other formalities. I provided him with an alternate number to call. I was told that the timeline for the completion of the request would be 14 working days; that’s like half the billing cycle. Oh well! Maybe their motto is: “Our customer is our GOD (spelled backwards!)”

When I came home next day, ma informed that the Reliance folks had called. Unfortunately I had not clearly updated folks at home, so ma ended up telling them to call later since she did not have a clear idea about the termination request. Of course they never called back. I called up Reliance customer care that same night and I must say they are either out of their mind or have a really crooked sense of humor. I was informed that we had communicated that we want to retain the phone service!! Wallah…how they twist the customer’s words. I admit that I really admire their skill of interpreting new meanings from seemingly simple statements. The only option that I was left with was to put in a new request (as outlined above).

It is well known that I need a lesson in anger management. The prospect of being on call listening to crappy Reliance on-hold music was quite daunting and I guess that proved to be the last straw. I sort of raised hell as I put in my request the second time around. Only this time, I decided to do better than listen to their on-hold music; I utilized my time by making some pending phone calls and caught up with people that I needed to catch up with. After much tantrum throwing (no that did not help, my call with them still lasted the customary 45 minutes) I had put in my 2^nd request. I got a call from the other team on my cell within a couple of days. I was not in a very cordial mood (when am I you say? ;)) and so ended up telling them point blank that I wanted to terminate my phone connection ASAP. I also informed that I was tired of giving reasons. A week or so elapsed, no follow up signs from Reliance and I began to get suspicious.

Another round of calls confirmed my worst fears. Their logs show that I confirmed I want to retain their phone service! Now either I have forgotten how to communicate or they have some serious mental challenges. With no other option I put in my termination request the 3^rd time around last night (3^rd August 2007). If a phone call to Reliance customer care entails termination of service, then be assured that their supervisors will be busy (which means you are on hold indefinitely) or that their system will be down. (which means you have to call back later)

These incidents coupled with some previous sour experiences with Citibank have led me to believe that customer care around here is customer, don’t care. They come kissing at your feet to activate any goddamn service, but when you need to cancel the same, you are at their mercy. Often customers are plundered by signing them up for unnecessary services. Agreed it is the customer’s duty to thoroughly verify what they are getting into. But often, time seems to be the challenge and hence such minor plundering is either ignored or most times goes unnoticed. These service providers don’t seem to value the customer’s business or their time. Their contorted processes are proof enough.

Have any of you had similar issues with Reliance or for that matter any other customer, don’t care service? I urge all those sailing in the same boat as me to not give up on such issues. Hopefully our follow ups will yield the desired result someday!

Moral of the story:

Be extremely careful before signing up for anything that requires your money, because it takes a lot of time, patience and mental agony to get out of it. (Take my word for it, will ya?)

To Reliance:

GET WELL SOON. My flowers are on the way!

EXHALE

2007-07-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

A storm was brewing in the distance and it seemed to be fast approaching Charleston. It was dark outside but the lightening set everything aglow every now and then. Nothing else could be heard above the din and rumble of the thunder. It appeared as if it wouldn’t be long before it started to pour. Another storm had been raging in Neeti’s mind for a while now. She couldn’t take it anymore….She couldn’t live on two planes at the same time and was tired, tired of lying and pretending…. She stared blankly at the computer screen that sat on a desk in the study. Then, as if having resolved the quandary in her mind, she came back to her senses and signed into her gmail account. There was an email from Ajeya, her husband; the man her parents had chosen for her 10 years ago.

Nee, deal through. Will be home by dinner tomorrow.

Curt and crisp, that was Ajeya. He was a good man and had been a good husband to Neeti. Yet there was something that was missing…

Neeti opened up the email that had been tucked away in the Drafts folder for days now. She glanced over it one last time.

Ajeya,

I met Sujoy during one of my poetry reading sessions. Sujoy is a painter and also has his own art school. We have been seeing each other for a year now. I thought it was time you knew…

Neeti

She took a deep breath and hit the Send button. An eerie calm came over her with this exhalation…

TRUCE

2007-07-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

The hot, arid summer was taking its toll on both man and beast. Short tempered Prithvi was unusually irritable this time of the year. The slightest remark served to vex Prithvi just like the spark that was sufficient to start a fire in the dry woods. Aasma, Prithvi's best friend, was well aware of his tantrums, but could hardly be of any help due to the distance that separated them. One such sultry afternoon, words and tones trundled in the wrong direction. That was the spark. A silent war began raging between the two…Prithvi seethed and Aasma rumbled in her own abode….this continued for almost a week. At the end of the week dark clouds gathered and a gentle pitter-patter commenced…at last there was a truce!

BLUR

2007-07-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

After some initial slow rotations, the merry-go-round gradually gained speed and very soon was at its peak. Trusha, impatient and restless as she was, hated the sluggish start and end phases of the ride. She loved to see the world buzz past when the ride was in full swing. Everything; people, places and even seemingly inert objects seemed to have a heady momentum then. Her life these days was just like the ride in full swing. She regretted it at times….no it didn’t feel like the merry-go-round, instead, it felt like being on a roller coaster that was ready to take a nose-dive. Her days were a blur…how she had yearned for them to be like that! But now, she wanted time to pause, just briefly, so she could collect herself and smell the roses one last time…before her life was launched into a different orbit….

MOOD SWING

2007-06-05T11:33:00.000-07:00

A wave of sadness swept across her mind; like the high tide that only leaves rubble in its wake. The day had started like any other and then out of the blue she started feeling like a dump. Uninvited guests always irked her and this one was no exception. Sarah felt something tugging at her heart; something that she couldn’t dismiss or ignore. A heavy weight seemed to press on her and there wasn’t much she could do about it. She wanted to cry but not a tear trickled. She tried to force a smile, as she looked at herself in the mirror in the loo, but her smile gave away her mood. Work was slower than usual at the supermarket where she worked, and that only made it worse. The thought of calling Hugh did cross her mind, but she knew they would end up fighting on a day like this.

The evening was cold and glum as she drove home from work. Even the perky RJ on the radio and the peppy tracks that were played refused to lift her blues. Sarah threw herself on the couch and lay there for a while. She hated this feeling….And then suddenly she knew what to do. She sat at her desk by the window and started writing. Words oozed and she felt liberated. The sun was peeping through the clouds just as a rainbow formed in her heart. She swirled and giggled; for the first time today she was happpppppy!

ROSE

2007-05-12T07:20:00.000-07:00

“Wow California …isn’t the weather there just like India?...and you get almost everything(Indian) there these days…so not much you will miss huh!?”

“I heard everybody in the States has a car…nobody every walks.”

“Oooo away from the big Indian family…nice…I’d live better if I too met w/ the family once a year!”

Her move to the States was generally greeted with such and similar responses that exuded awe, excitement, and happiness…sometimes even a tinge of jealousy would show up. It was as if her move was regarded as an escape to a paradise, where things were picture perfect. And life in such a place had to be good – no? As if just the place guaranteed that life, relationships and everything around and beyond that would be shipshape. But ask people who lived in this paradise, they thought of it as otherwise and claimed that the greenery was all there (in their motherlands). They hastily replied with a reason or two and made it sound as if they were in the so-called Paradise by chance and not choice.

She answered both parties patiently, because, she thought she knew how to savor the roses and how to make sure the thorns don’t get to you…

PERCEPTIONS

2007-05-11T23:02:00.000-07:00

They sat across each other in the most happening lounge in town – La Bouche. He had made a good first impression (didn’t he always?) and she was glad she had agreed to meet him. He was wearing a black corduroy shirt with faded blue jeans and had a shock of silky black hair that was neither too long nor too short. A dimple formed across his right cheek every time his mouth broke into that infectious smile and one could see the perfect set of pearly whites. The cologne scent that he exuded, the prominent Adam’s apple and the slight stubble….she was beginning to fall for him already and only hoped that his thoughts and character matched up w/ his looks…As they sipped their margaritas she noticed the thread (the sacred thread worn across the shoulder after the thread ceremony) as it peeked into view from under his shirt. “Still holds on to his roots after 7 years in Australia”, she made a mental note. Although she tried hard to focus on their talk and him as a person, she caught herself drifting….

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

The song played in the background…She looked at him and thought that his eyes mirrored her feelings…Little did she know that his thoughts were w/ Julia and the summer evening that they had spent together at the Copacabana beach in Rio…

A PIECE OF THEIR WORLDS

2007-04-21T04:20:00.000-07:00

Sameeha was the apple of Aapa’s eyes. Sameeha was all she had, ever since the fatal accident took away everybody in their family. She had devoted her life to Sameeha who was barely three when their world shattered. Neighbors and friends worried about Aapa and how she would deal with the crisis. Sameeha was the only reason why Aapa had not crumbled.

Their house was brimming w/ life and excitement. Sameeha’s marriage had been finalized w/ Ahsan and today was the Nikah. At last Aapa could breathe easy. She had strived to give Sameeha the best of everything and she constantly fretted about the kind of family Sameeha would marry into. Now her fears were rested. Ahsan was a fine boy from a respectable family. She knew Sameeha would get all the love, care and comfort that she deserved. Distant relatives and friends had gathered in the house. A feast was cooking, and children played in the courtyard. The men-folk chatted away as women-folk busied themselves supervising the preparations. There was music and laughter all around. Sameeha sat patiently as four girls stooped over her, applying mehendi to her hands and feet. Her girlfriends teased her about Ahsan while elderly ladies squeezed in words of wisdom every now and then. Aapa sat in a corner, observing and shouting orders as needed.

She was happy for Sameeha yet, her heart broke into a million pieces every time she thought of Sameeha’s bidai. Years flashed by her eyes. How little Sameeha had tightly clutched her hand as she mourned the deaths in the family…Sameeha with her lovely locks and smile……How she had scouted the bazaar barefoot one summer afternoon only to get Sameeha the red velvet slippers that she had wanted….Sameeha the chatterbox…..Sameeha the singer….the Sameeha who studied day and night for her exams…Sameeha the caring doctor…and now, Sameeha the bride…

She would never hear her laughter, her chatter and have her around like she used to….she would have to wait months, just to see her darling for real and even then, it would never be the same…a heavy sadness choked Aapa’s heart. She tried to lift the weight by hollering for some chai and day dreaming about the joys that lay ahead in the future…she had to be strong and able for doing all her duties, she warned herself…Allah would help her survive without her lifeline – Sameeha.

*********

Aapa was her world for many many years. She was her friend, philosopher, guide and her idol. As she grew up her world expanded, but Aapa was still at the center of it. But now it seemed Allah was testing her, by sending Ahsan into her life. All of a sudden it was expected of her to accept Ahsan as the new center. To her surprise, even Aapa wanted it! Although it seemed easy at times, this shift filled her w/ guilt. It was not so hard for her since Ahsan, was the man of her dreams, but what would happen to Aapa?....How would she deal w/ it? Her heart was torn in a game of tug of war; on one side there was Aapa and on the other Ahsan.

Memories flashed past her eyes like a picture slide-show….Her strong Aapa, who rarely smiled….Aapa the taskmaster who never said CAN’T DO…Aapa, the best cook she had ever known….Although with a temper of her own, Aapa who soaked in all her tantrums…. the Aapa who had locked away her tears ever since their family perished….Aapa, who stayed up w/ her as she studied for her exams….Aapa’s embrace, the most comforting thing in the world….Aapa’s trust and confidence that had always pulled her through her lows…..the Aapa who knew her more than herself…and now the Aapa, who was standing and smiling just for her with a heavy stone on her heart... “Ya Allah!…guide me well”, Sameeha prayed.

DIAMONDS

2007-04-16T10:56:00.000-07:00

Thank you for the diamonds,

I’m glad you read my mind.

Let’s share a love that shines through the times,

Let’s be a team that always sparkles and chimes,

Let’s ignore the flaws and discover the gold mines.

Thank you for the diamonds,

I’m glad you read my mind.

Let’s weave a bond that storms only twine,

Let’s be the mountains that never break their spines,

Let’s strive for a life, pure and sublime.

Thank you for the diamonds,

I’m glad you read my mind.

I have all my diamonds,

They twinkle as if humming this rhyme.

The road ahead is slime dear, but has both brine n wine.

So anytime you feel things are not so fine,

And you want to throw yourself on the bed and whine,

Head to a nice place, dance and dine,

Just look at us and you’ll know we stand for all you pine…

IMAGINATION... INFATUATION... INTOXICATION...

2007-04-02T04:26:00.000-07:00

I am ME, when its WE,
Is this what love's supposed to be?

A lot of stuff that I’d like to share,
Wonder, is it too early to show I care?

Some things left unsaid,
Will they ever raise their head?

The equation has but one unknown,
Only time will solve and make it known.

Until then I prefer to drown,
In the sweet world that I’ve grown.

Herez to imagination, infatuation and intoxication!

CRUSH(ED)

2007-02-11T00:05:00.000-08:00

Trina was on her way to work and had paused at the 4-way stop, when she first saw him.

“Why do I see him everyday??” Maybe it is a sign, her infatuated mind answered.

He was her inspiration to get up every morning and make the long commute to work. He never seemed to notice her, always looking straight ahead from his black Chevy. Was that because he was married? “Oh c’mmon Trin. That’s not a sure sign of matrimony. Maybe he is just a well behaved lad.” Trina told herself. She imagined he was tall from the brief glimpses at the stop sign. She couldn’t guess his age. But obviously he looked young and did it matter?? – He looked good. She practiced her smile as she pulled out of her driveway each day and rehearsed her lines just in case this moved to more than peeks at the stop sign.

It was Valentine’s Day and she was in a genial mood as she left home for work. Maybe today would be the day, she secretly hoped….maybe destiny had saved everything for this special day, she reasoned.

Something glinted as sunrays caught his fingers…...Blues music is Trina’s new found love and it is what drives her to work everyday now….

ESCAPE

2007-02-10T07:13:00.000-08:00

Shiny had mixed feelings as she packed her bags and readied herself to start a new life in a new place. Was she really going to escape the sorrow and the pain and know a life of happiness??

She had always wanted live in Dubai, like her Dada; a father she had never known. Amma gave her a cold, blank stare as she kissed her goodbye. Her heart broke, but she understood. It was the Alzheimer’s. Appachan was fast asleep when she tip-toed into his room. Growing age and the paralysis had made short tempered Appachan more irascible. Tall and well-built Appachan, with his military colonel moustaches always looked formidable. He always seemed angry about something and their relationship had never developed. Jibu Chetta followed her as she moved about the house; he could sense that she was leaving home. Mentally challenged with limited ability of expression, all he could do was make sounds to let her know that he would miss her. InjiAmma’s eyes welled up with tears every few minutes as she came with Shiny to the bus-stand. She had been Shiny’s care-taker from the day little Shiny came into the world.

The bus left dust clouds in its wake as it chugged out of Perumpuzha. Shiny closed her eyes and prayed for the well-being of the family that she was leaving behind…..

PERFECT

2007-02-10T07:11:00.000-08:00

Every leg muscle protested as Hope and her friend Tiffany settled into the comfortable sofas at Mochas; their favorite place to relax after a crazy day at the mall. Hope was a hopeless shopaholic. Tiffany didn’t care about shopping, but a good friend that she was, always accompanied Hope on her seemingly never-ending trips to the malls. They were scouting for the perfect pair of sandals for Hope’s big day – her wedding with Dan. Four hours into their search and the perfect pair still eluded Hope.

There were many that Hope had liked, but for some or the other reason hadn’t ended in her shopping bag. There was the strappy one that looked great on her feet, but it was way beyond her budget. Then she had fallen for the stilettos, they would have gone perfectly with her dress. “These are not for sale, Miss.” she was informed. She almost fumed out of the store when she caught sight of the soft-leather heels. She was unlucky this time too – her size wasn’t available. Morning turned to afternoon as they moved from one store to another. Now it was Hope’s turn to find some or the other fault with every pair that they seemed to like.

“Hope, you better settle on something, else you are never going to find the perfect pair” Tiffany reasoned. “Besides there is no way you will escape the shoe bites” Tiffany seemed to mention casually. Actually, she wanted to make sure Hope didn’t include that in her check-list for the perfect pair. After a series of failed relationships and a broken marriage, Hope knew better. “I’ll go for the strappy ivory ones Tiff” Hope said getting up, lost in her own web of thoughts….

CLOUDED

2007-01-30T08:16:00.000-08:00

When will we learn to look at things objectively?... When will we put aside religion and think straight while analyzing people, things and situations?..... Will we ever realize that we are being fogged by the miasma of our narrow-minded exhales? Too bad it is sun salutation this time..

MY EXPERIMENTS WITH ABSTINENCE

2007-01-29T09:34:00.000-08:00

No! I don’t smoke or drink or am not into any other weird stuff that the title of this post might help you imagine. I am an Internet junkie. I can, and, I do spend hours online, most of the times doing stuff that does not ahem qualify as ‘value-adding’. School got me used to 24 hours of high speed Internet. Post-graduation, I found myself in a big city where people were hard to come by. In these testing times the WWW was my only solace. My work in the tech-sector only further fostered this friendship and I guess I never realized when we became almost inseparable. Granny’s rants fell on deaf ears, dad’s disapproving look was quickly dismissed and mom’s Gandhigiri also failed to instigate a change. Like every addict, I was aware of my addiction and its ill-effects; yet I wasn’t doing anything about it and I liked to think I was helpless.

New Year’s time is usually a good time to take stock of life and make amends. It is during this reflective juncture that I happened to read this quote. Write it down. Written goals have a way of transforming wishes into wants, can’ts into cans; dreams into plans and plans into reality. Don’t just think it – ink it. It made sense, and so I penned all the do’s and don’ts and proclaimed it to the entire world here. Most New Year resolutions never go past the first few weeks of the New Year; so a research article claimed. It partially attributed the failure to the fact that the goals are not SMART goals. A quick look at my list and I realized that I needed to be more specific. With a long weekend on my holiday calendar I decided to take some real steps towards tackling my addiction. I promised myself that I would stay away from the Internet for 3 days. Talking about resolutions makes you stick to them, I’d heard; so I dashed a quick “Miss Me” note to some friends telling them about my resolve.

I lingered in the living room after dinner. “What’s the matter today? Aren’t you going to surf?” Granny asked mischievously. I was about snap back; “No I am going to be off it for 3 whole days and spend time with you instead.” I proudly announced. We chatted for a while before turning in. Yess! I had made a start; I congratulated myself. “What’s the username for our Internet connection? Have you changed the password?” - Dad. “There let me help you with that.” I promptly offered jumping out of bed. I was tempted to have a quick look at my email as I got him connected, but checked myself. “You will have to watch out for these weak moments for the next 3 days. They will be waiting to pounce on you at every corner.” I reminded myself.

Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. I sure felt great as I awoke to the sounds of the birds early the next morning. Chai-walk with Granny-jog-meditation was to be my morning ritual for the next 3 days. Gone was the feeling of “I need more sleep”, the dark circles and moi’s beauty gained a new dimension. As Dad busied himself with some work, I pulled out my lappy. “I am going to play you music over the Internet” I suggested enthusiastically. All I got is a cold stare to which I succumbed. Ah! Another small victory. Temptation usually comes in through a door that has been deliberately left open. Remembering this, I gave my lappy a goodbye kiss and tucked it safely into the laptop bag. This bag then went into my sister’s wardrobe. Out of sight, out of mind – I hoped this would work for me. The first day was really tough, every few hours I was seized by a strong urge to pull out lappy, hook it up and surf. Those times I tried to divert my attention by reading. One way in which the Internet has taken its toll on me is – lessened concentration. So reading didn’t come so easily too, but I just kept at it. “This would make a great story.” I thought and started observing my moods and thoughts more closely. Saturday (2^nd day) went by smoothly; I was travelling and out of home all day. By Sunday I had sort of gotten used to not starting my day by booting the lappy. I busied myself with some household chores.

By the end of Sunday night however I was bursting to tell everybody what a good girl I had been. So out I pulled lappy dear and woohoo I was connected…

Looking back the 3 day abstinence worked out well for me. I felt relaxed and satisfied that I had not splurged my holidays. I think I am going to practice this more often….

FAITH AND PATIENCE

2007-01-28T09:31:00.000-08:00

The human mind is a funny instrument. Most times it comes across as a rational device prone to logical thinking. Yet, there are times when it makes you comply with the seemingly absurd and unimaginable. During such times these requests can be attributed to intuition, blind faith, desperation, frustration, or may be sort of a last-resort. These were the thoughts that crossed my mind when I heard my Dad announcing a trip to Shirdi. While there is nothing weird in visiting Shirdi, it does raise eyebrows when it comes from a person who has always stayed away from rituals, god-men, and fervent displays of religion; whose focus has been on practicality, whose principle in life has been ‘Humata, Hukhta, Hvarshta’.

We found ourselves in Shirdi an hour before noon amidst a multitude of devotees. Apparently we were late to gain entry to the holy chambers, in spite of having passes arranged for. Dad was ready to make a turn-back, but Granny persisted. (She isn’t the one to give up so easily.) So after some phone calls, we were put at the end of a queue that seemed to be progressing quickly. The women and men were separated just before entering the holy sanctum. The chamber was resonating with a soothing chant of ‘Aum Shree Sai Nathaya Namaha’. It took me a while to get used to my surroundings; women shuffling around me to get a better view of the idol, people chanting and murmuring prayers, unoblivious of everything, regulars acknowledging each other or explaining newbies like me what to expect next, little boys crying at being separated from their mothers. The chamber was ornate with designs embossed on silver. The benign idol of Sai Baba looked upon us as multiple air-coolers and fans kept us cool. In the meanwhile, the stage was being set for the daily aarati (prayer recital). The aarati started at noon; my hands folded as an automatic response to the recital, but leaving that I was not sure how to behave.

I am a believer; I believe that there is a supreme power and that man does have his limits. I am okay with calling this supreme power God. I haven’t thought much about God beyond this simple belief that I hold in my heart. So I don’t think twice if I have to bow before Ganesha or Shiva or any other Hindu deity. However, this was a new experience. The idol which everybody was worshipping here was that of a mortal human being; just like me. I don’t know much about the life and work of Sai Baba and so feigning zealous devotion was a far cry. My mind was coagulated by a million thoughts….

The pictures in the museum portrayed Sai Baba as a simple man. Now, his idol was seated on a silver throne, dressed in a jazzy purple (!) kaftan and his head adorned a gold crown. “What an irony..,” I sighed. “The time and money invested in this enterprise could move mountains,” I said to myself. “Baba, do you approve of all this?” Oh well, I’ll save my rant for another post….

As I tried to find my way out of this mental maze, I noticed two words on the silver embossing “Shraddha-Saburi” (Faith-Patience). That was the Eureka moment. I waited outside for Dad after the aarti. He seemed happy and relieved at the same time. “Faith and Patience, Daddy,” I exclaimed as I hugged him. He understood.