Days of Future Past

A few weeks ago the girls and me watched the new X-men movie. Am not a die hard fan of X-men but Hugh Jackman in 3D wasn't something I wanted to miss. While I ended up enjoying the movie, what really caught my fancy was Shadowcat's super power. She uses her superpower to send (the hot) Wolverine back into the past to change history. This movie coupled with my secret fascination for time travel got me me thinking. What if I could travel back ten years and have a chat with the 22 year old me., what would I tell myself? And that inspired this list.

Experiment!

My greatest regret has been not living in more cities and trying new jobs. Basically sticking to the norms.I stuck to my comfort zone for too long. Albeit late, I broke that mold and believe it was the best decision ever. 

Be stupid

Most people end up being reckless in their 20s and sober up in their 30s. I on the other hand have been Benjamin Buttonesque and done the opposite. I would definitely tell my younger self that its absolutely OK to let go and do stupid things. Sign up for that dance class, pitch your big idea to your boss, make the first move on that boy. It's alright if it ends up being a mammoth failure. Having no regrets is definitely way better than momentarily looking like an idiot.

Life is never as bad as it seems.

This is probably the most difficult realization for me to accept. There have been days when I firmly believed I was in the worst phase of my life, and then a curve ball hits me out of nowhere . And then I regret not appreciating what I had. It took me a while to realize that life can have a terribly wry sense of humour. And it's easy to miss out on the good things when things are going bad. But sometimes things need to come crashing down for you to build something better. 


While it would be awesome if life can a Ctrl Z button, I guess some things are meant to be. We live  we learn. But here's hoping ten years down the line, I can look back at now and tell myself I did alright.

Little Mr. Sunshine

I am not sure what the right term for referring to a deaf person is. During a brief stint in volunteering I was taught that "deaf" is the politically right term.. So hopefully am not being offensive in using the word.

Right across the road from my house is a school for deaf children. Every morning on my way to work I deliberately slow down when I walk past the school. Observing these children has become a daily ritual for me. Watching them happy in their own little world is always a great start to any day. I have seen young boys shoving each other , signing rapidly and dissolving in a fit of giggles.

I once watched a young couple angrily signing to each other in fury. A reminder that true emotions don't need a language. Or a voice.

A few days ago I tried to hail an auto that got out the school. While the auto-driver tried his usual "ten rupees extra" madam, I was slightly surprised to see a broad smile greet me from the passenger seat. The broad smile belonged to a little boy who must have been five or six and clearly a student of the deaf school. His smile was almost spilling out of his giant oversized monkey cap that seemed make him look even smaller. Looking at my surprised face the auto-driver explained he was dropping the boy off and his house was on the way to my destination. 

My new hero in the monkey cap even patted the seat next to him, nodding his head vigorously. This is was an invite I just couldn't say no to. So I hopped into the auto. No sooner had we started the boy was on his feet waving with all his might at his fellow school mates who were all leaving. He waved with all his might and with his most adorable broad grin. No one waved back. They probably didn't notice him. But none of this mattered to the boy. Not once did smile falter or his waving slow down. He was on a roll like a pint sized rockstar waving at his crazed fans. Only after we had left my lane and gotten onto the main road did he sit down. He concluded with a grand clap of hands and sat down with a pleased look.

He must have rested for approximately five seconds before he was back on his feet again. This time he kept tapping the auto-driver on his shoulder to point out people and things on the road side. He kept rapidly signing away and shaking his head.It was apparent that the auto-driver didnt get what he was trying to communicate, but he still nodded his head in agreement and even shook his head at the right moments. I now didn't feel bad about giving him extra money. The boy would take a 10 second break after every minute before getting back to his ritual. And every break was punctuated with a dramatic clap of hands. Happiness is indeed contagious and I couldn't help but smile at this little charade.

Life can difficult at times and I can only imagine how difficult it can be for that child.Watching him be so happy and finding joy in something as simple as waving to your friends, was so heartening. When we reached his house and he gave me a grand high five, my only hope was he holds on to his spark even through adulthood. Growing up often kills a lot of that.

They say happiness is a choice you make and not always a reflection of your life. If you decide to be happy you will be happy. A choice you can make but a difficult one. I am not sure if happiness comes that easy, but Mr. Sunshine definitely made my afternoon.

Let’s talk friendship.

One afternoon at the museum, a friend asked me , “so how many of your school friends are you in touch with? “. I responded with some uncomfortable silence.  Up until that moment it didn't real strike me that I was barely in touch. With anyone from my school days.  Now don’t get judgemental Jude on me. I am really good at keeping in touch. OK much better than the average.  But time and distance sometimes prove to be challenges.

While all my school friends were married and most had stayed behind in my hometown.. I found it difficult to stay in touch with them. But I think the most  is that I probably would not know what to say to them now.

I am a very very different person now from what I was some years ago. Moving cities, growing older and life in general has made me a different person. And I believe as you change.. so do the kind of friends you make. So this got me thinking would be I friends with half the people I know… had I met them at a different time of my life?

And I assume this would be apply for everyone. Something tells me I would have a lot less friends if I had to start the exercise now. A tad bit depressing that. Think I will drown my sorrows by doing a Mad Men marathon. Ta.

Indonesia - Part 2: Ubud

The second stop of our Indonesia trip was D’s choice. So we all know how Eat,Pray Love put Ubud on the global map. Somehow unlike the rest of the world, it didn't catch my fancy. Well at least up until I got there. Just an hour into this little bustling town and I was in love.  I could totally understand why Elizabeth Gilbert loved it. Ubud is one of those places that reminds you that the world can wait , while you disappear into your own bubble.

Ubud is a little town filled with tiny cafes, curio shops and busy markets.  D and me spent many hours exercising our non existent bargaining skills in the many markets. These visits ensured we were returning to India with much heavier bags.

One of the best things about our stay at Ubud was our home stay. Not only was it a bargain, the couple who run it were so warm and friendly. Which we soon discovered was a common trait among the people of this town. Literally everyone here greets you with a warm smile or wants to chat up. Our room was massive and overlooked this little courtyard which led into rice fields.  Would definitely recommend this place to anyone visiting Ubud.

D had signed us for a cycling expedition, which was one of the highlights of our trip. The group that organized this took us for a lovely breakfast overlooking a lake and volcano. After which we  visited the world famous Kopi Luwak Coffee. Which is made of well erm cat poo. Well kinda. Soon after this interesting coffee experience we got on our bikes and off we went zipping through tiny villages. The  excursion guides took us to a traditional Balinese home, a wood work factory and finally some rice fields.  

The last time I touched a cycle was twenty years ago. So naturally I was not sure if I could do it. But am so glad I got over my apprehension and did this. Cycling through brilliant green rice fields on a quiet afternoon was nothing short of bliss. With the wind in my hair, I could almost hear the soundtrack of "Chariots of fire" in my head. I was dog tired at the end of it. But it was worth every minute.

When the time came for us to pack and leave we made a note to definitely come back to this lovable tiny town.

Indonesia – Part 1 : Mt Bromo & Ijen Crater

When I was in class two, we had an English lesson on the destruction of Pompei with the volcanic eruption of Mt Vesuvius. Quite a morbid story to be teaching a six year old. None the less I was totally taken in.  I saw volcanoes as these sleepy monsters who come to life and breathed bright orange fire. Somewhere at the back of mind I had made up my mind to visit a volcano some day.

Fast forward twenty four years.

Last year the Grecian , the diva and me had finally frozen on Indonesia for our December holiday.  The three of us decided to pick one destination of our choice. No we were not influenced by Zindagi na milege dobara! My obvious choice was the volcano rich East Java.

I soon learnt that getting from Bangalore to East Java was no easy task. After three flights, one bus ride, one jeep ride and 20 hours later, we reached our destination – Probolingo. After a few hours of shut eye ,our chirpy driver gave us our wake up call at 4.00 A.M and off we went to watch the sunrise at Mt Bromo. Surprisingly we were the only international tourists at the venue. I guess East Java is not as popular as other islands such as Bali. Which is quite a shame.

Anyway I digress. After waiting for a while in the cold the sun finally rose , which was met with thunderous applause by the locals. The diva and I were quite amused with the rather warm welcome the sun got. 

Sunrise at Mt Bromo

It was quite a pretty sight and worth the wait in the cold. The volcanic craters seems arise magically from the mist bathed in soft pink and orange light. Luckily for us we got talking to an Indonesian couple who asked us to join them in exploring the place. We then drove right around to climb the mount and get a view of the actual crater.  While we took a short break, I decided to try out some hot soup from a cart vendor. This was no ordinary soup. It was heaven in a bowl! I later discovered this hot broth like soup with dumplings is called Miso. MOST.AMAZING.SOUP.EVER.

Volcanic Crater

After breakfast we took a horse (pony) ride to base of the mount. I was getting on a horse after like a billion years and held onto my pony and the pony man (?) for my dear life. After climbing what felt like 5 billion steps to get to the top most level of the crater, we were finally there. It was truly amazing to be peering into the crater of a volcano. It looked like a giant bowl of steaming orange soup. Yes I was clearly still hung-over on my amazing soup.

Relaxing at the Savannah

Our next stop was the savannah. This was one of the places recommended by the Indonesian couple and it was truly lovely.  Lying there,  I realized I had not experienced this much silence and vast open spaces in a long long time.  We lazed around here for a bit before heading for our final destination for the day.

The whispering sands were our final and next stop. I heard several different versions of how this place earned that name. The most popular reasons seems be that it was named after a movie that was shot there. This place was a vast massive gigantic sea of black sand with the mountains in the background.

Flower seller at whispering sands

No one visits a such vast open space and not holler out names in hope of an echo. So that is what we all did. And boy the response echos were little haunting and creepy. Almost like hidden mystery creatures were calling out my name from beyond the mountains. Yes apparently my imagination is a bit over active.

Day # 2 Ijen crater

The next day we had decided to visit the Ijen crater.  The ijen crater is home to a massive lake of sulphuric acid. To get to this crater we had to do a to a  backbreaking ,hopefully calorie burning hike. The hike took us about two hours. The climb was a bit slippery and the cold weather just made it tougher. Of course none of this seemed to matter to the miners.  Each of them carried about 80 – 100 kg of sulphur on their shoulders.  I must add they pranced around like ballerinas oblivious to the slippery and steep slopes.

Ijen Crater

Again here the two hour climb was totally worth the break-taking view that awaited us. The crater is filled with a brilliant blue acid. Grey and white rocks framed this lake and there was mist all over the place.

Despite the strong chemically stench on and off, it was the perfect place to just sit and relax.  A steep stony path led right down to the lake, which we decided to skip.  The miners were pretty friendly and chatty. Some of them even offer to escort you down to the lake and inside the mines.

Miners at Ijen

With that we were done with our East Java tour and took a ferry to Bali. Unlike Bali which is far more developed , East Java is not popular with tourists. Which is good in a way. But also sad that so many people don’t realize how beautiful this island is too.

Coming up next – Indonesia part two – Ubud, Bali

2012

I may be giving my blog the step motherly treatment but I couldn't stay away from doing my traditional year end post.
2012 started slow. Content would have been a good description. And suddenly I was forced to make decisions. Decisions that I didn't like and decisions that could have long term implications. Though at that moment I cursed all my stars and hated the world. Looking back now am grateful for that chaos which woke me up from slumber and pushed me towards better things. A little jolt now and then apparently does no one any any harm.
Mid year saw me take a new job. New roles new environment and new people. And the whole rigamarole of adjustment. As with many things moving to a new job made me appreciate little things I left behind. I missed my crazy colleagues who made Monday mornings bearable. Which I never appreciated when I was on the job.

Travel wise the year was good I can say. I got to visit my friend's quaint cocoa estate in Nilambur. The perfect weekend getaway. In August I visited the United States after four years. I never thought I would say this but I missed that place. And no, not just the malls. That multi faceted country continues to amuse and amaze me.
I had to do a blink and miss me trip to Sri Lanka. Something I hope to recitify in 2013. And finally in December I visited the amazing Indonesian islands. A separate post coming up on that.
2012 was  not too eventful but definitely not one of my best years. For the first time in my life I had  serious regrets and wished I could have stayed back in 2011. But then like Adele says mistakes and regrets are memories made. Happy new year people. Bring it on 2013!

A Mid Summer Wedding

When my cousin did a last minute announcement about his wedding in Colombo,  I was  partially panicky and excited. Panicky coz I realized I would hardly get a day between my Boston and Colombo trip resulting in my displaying my hyperactive best. My friends and family can vouch that my hyperactive self is best avoided. But I was also excited as this would be the first Buddhist wedding I would attend.

Finally after my customary travel related drama I was in my beloved Colombo. Again travel related drama and me have had a thirty year steady relationship, so I was sort of prepared for it. Having landed just one day before the wedding, I didn’t have much to do. But to my pleasant surprise I discovered that Buddhist weddings are short, simple and sweet.  Thereby, bringing down the usual pre-wedding chaos by a significant amount.

The sister and I decided to go all Sri Lankan and wear the traditional Kandyan saree.  This involved a complex saree tying process and about forty pins. Thereby ensure I couldn’t breathe or move but I did feel rather fancy. So I guess it was worth it.

The main part of the wedding is an entourage of Kandyan dancers, drummers and conch blowers escorting the bride and groom in individually. This ceremony is done with the dancers performing the traditional dance while singing the customary wedding songs.  I totally loved this part. Most of the meaning of the songs were lost on me and my rudimentary Sinhala. But I guestimated they were welcoming the bride and groom.

This was followed by the main poruwa ceremony. Which was a relatively short ceremony which included the couple’s fingers being tied together with string, exchanging of gifts between the families and all elders blessing the couple.  It also involved a lot of falling at a lot of feet. My heart went out to the bride who I could see was struggling to fall at people s feet in all her bridal finery. And in about half an hour ta-da! They were married. If only all weddings were this quick!

This was followed by cake…

And champagne…

And a huge spread of food and more champagne and a lot of dancing. Did I mention I love Sri Lankan weddings?

Under the Krabi Sky

Its unfair. How can one country have it all? Picture postcard beaches, amazing food and arguably the world’s best malls? And if that country is Thailand, when it beckons you just catch the next AirAsia flight and go. My last trip to this beautiful place was a whirlwind of palaces and malls. So when my friends suggested a week long relaxed beach holiday, I jumped at the chance.

When my travel research experts (D and N) zeroed in on three places for our holiday, I was expecting all three to be alike. I mean how different can three beach destinations in the same vicinity be? Oh boy was I wrong or what.

Koh Lanta – The Serene One
Have you met one of those people (most probably a woman in her thirties) who perpetually has a serene and calm aura? Lives life at her own pace and has a “the world can wait” attitude. If I had to describe this beautiful island, that would be it.
Koh Lanta is relatively unknown to mainstream tourists and I hope it remains that way. The sleepy island which is home to white sandy beaches and light blue waters is the perfect getaway from the hustle bustle of city life. We spent two and half relaxed days in this little haven when time does stand still.



On day one, we decided to do the touristy island hopping tour. The day long boat tour took us to four islands. It was during this trip that I discovered the awesomeness that was snorkeling. After some initial hiccups I got a hang of it and loved every bit of it. You float around soaking in the visual delight of watching fish of every possible color glide past you and the only thing you can hear is your own breathing. I wish I was good enough a writer to describe what a fantastic experience that was.Its amazing to think that under that serene blue surface, lies a whole different world.

After two stops for snorkeling, our third stop during the island tour was the emerald cave. I recommend this natural wonder to anyone who visits Thailand. The emerald cave is a hidden beach inside one of the rock formations in the middle of the ocean. It was apparently a favorite hideout for pirates back in the day. Our tour operator had all of us line up and hold on the life-jacket in front of while we swam through the narrow passage to get to the hidden beach. Which worked really well for non swimming claustrophobic beings (aka me). And our final stop was on this quaintlittle island for lunch. Unfortunately blogger does not seem to support my panorama pictures. So I have to make do with the regular ones.




Koi Phi Phi – The Chirpy One
If Ko Lanta had a calming effect on us, Koi Phi Phi woke us up with a jolt. This little bustling island reminds me of a bubbly girl next door. After a couple of relaxing days we hopped over to Koi Phi Phi which was actually just our stop over for our overnight camping trip at Maya Bay. We had half a day to kill and decided to make the most of it. Half the island is filled with beach-side pubs while the other half is filled with cobbled streets lined with little cafes and shops selling absolutely anything. Unlike the previous island, even the waters were more vibrant turquoise here. Something that struck me was how all islands are a riot of blues and greens but yet so uniquely picturesque in its own way.
We decided to check out the Phi Phi view point accessible only via a six hundred steep stairway trek. Which actually felt like 62,879 steps if you ask me. The long strenuous trek was a reality check on how terribly unfit we were, but the view from the top made everything totally worth it.



By afternoon we took the boat to Maya Bay for our overnight camping on the beach. I think that one crazy night spent there deserves a post of its own, so I will save my rambling for the next post.


Phuket – The Glitzy One
With its endless night clubs, high end malls and restaurants, Phuket was a far cry from our other destinations. Phuket was all about glitz, glamour and sadly sleaze. The rampant child prostitution in every nook of this city was a reminder that everything beautiful can also have an ugly side.
To be honest, we didn’t get to do too many beach-side activities here. In other words...we saw a mall, fell in love and lived happily ever after. Ahhhh those shoes and bags *dreamy eyes *. Unfortunately we had to learn the hard way that shopping at the malls was surprisingly more reasonable that road side shopping.

This post would be incomplete without mentioning the awesomely fantastic yummylicious food we had. It would be no exaggeration to say we finished all the Phad Thai and Green Curry in that country.

After two days in Phuket, our week long holiday drew to a close. We got back to India a little heavier both in terms of baggage and other wise, but happy none the less.




Travel means different things to different people. For some its an adrenaline rush while for some its just a break from routine. It makes people happy, ecstatic or just keeps some entertained. But I have come to realize that for me its much more than that. Travel for me is contentment.

And in Paradise I am

For the first time I have a guest post on my blog. Inaugurating affairs is my good old friend the "Bourbon Legend". He is many things - engineer , entertainer and Thalapakattu Briyani lover. But most of all a constant reminder that life is not meant to be taken seriously!
- Wanderlust

I sit with my head between my legs on the steps. The sun bores down and every time I blink, it seems my lids are too hot for my eyes. There is a pigeon on the ledge in front of me, eating vomit that is thankfully not mine, while another pigeon tries in vain to get up behind it and do the deed. It seems an apt metaphor for my life. Sweat continues to pour out of my body in a steady stream, while the fluids involved around the whole breathing part of me congealed further.

Class was going to be a bitch today

The attendant announces that it is time, longer and louder than he has any right to. And the great seething mass of dull young minds make their way to wherever they should be. I myself can’t face such a challenge right now, and head downstairs for a sly smoke.

I go to the basement and sit in my car, taking a moment to collect myself and light one up. Maybe it is the darkness or the steady flow of airconditioner exhaust, but right then, surrounded as I am by stale air and an intermittently blinking tubelight, I feel a moment of almost Zen like tranquality. It is no hard task for me just to lay my head on the wheel, and close my eyes forever.

My cell phone rings, an angry attendant signalling the end of registration rants on. I make my way back to the sunshine. Thankfully it has quieted down. I peer out, and make my way down the hall to sweet sweet freedom.

“L !” comes a harsh grating voice.

I turn slowly, doomed.

“Yes Mr V?”

“Shouldn’t you be in class young man?”

Young man. I want to scoff, he was only 5 years older than me.

“I am…just on my way.” I said turning around.

“I'll meet you in my office after the class”

“I look forward to it already.” I fake a laugh and side step to safety before he can say another word.

I find the hateful door and open it. The room of course is filled with un-drawable blinds which let too much light in through windows that face the sun full on. All beams seem to converge on my desk. Taking a deep breath, I stride in and face the music, noting with bad humour today’s lesson plan.


“Ok class” I say, returning the sun's glare with one of my own “Today's topic - Coordinate Geometry.”

Between August and November

Between August and November I have

Shifted cities and realized a city is its people.
Gotten back to working after a year's break and realized its not too bad.
Finished my first level of French and suprised myself by truly enjoying studying.
Missed Madras. Missed Colombo. Missed Home.
Been glad that I will still continue to talk to some people no matter what.
Repeated mistakes.
Had more midnight coffees than I have ever had.
Finally moved to an apartment of my own.
Pondered deeply if the bus 331A really does exist.
Been super grateful that no matter where you are, some friends are just a gchat buzz away.

When you are supposed to be working but instead choose to..

This fun post was inspired by dee

- If I were a season, I would be Monsoons
- If I were a month, I would be December
- If I were a day of the week, I would be Saturday
- If I were a time of day, I would be night
- If I were a planet, I would be er Earth
- If I were a direction, I would be going East
- If I were a tree, I would be a temple tree
- If I were a flower, I would be an orchid
- If I were a fruit, I would be a dragon fruit
- If I were a land animal, I would be a Horse
- If I were a sea animal, I would be a jelly fish
- If I were a bird, I would be a sea gull
- If I were a piece of furniture, I would be an antique rocking chair
- If I were a liquid, I would be portello!
- If I were a stone, I would be a diamond
- If I were a kind of weather, I would be rainy
- If I were a musical instrument, I would be a piano
- If I were a color, I would be burgundy
- If I were a facial expression, I would be a grin
- If I were an emotion, I would be contentment
- If I were a sound, I would be the tinkling of windchimes
- If I were an element, I would oxygen
- If I were a car, I would be a er.. ok no idea actually
- If I were a food, I would gyros
- If I were a place, I would be NYC
- If I were a flavor, I would be butterscotch
- If I were a scent, I would be the smell of hot coffee on a cold day
- If I were an object, I would be a lava lamp
- If I were a body part, I would be a nape of the neck
- If I were a song, I would be "all the world " by Correatown

What about you?

Love and friendship

If you had to choose one over the other, which one would you pick?

The bag story

Tring ! Tring!


Friend: Ah hello. So I’m buying a bag for N. I need a second opinion. Let me describe it to you
Me: A guy describing a bag? O no!
Friend: its one foot by one foot.
Me: Can actually hear Louis Vuitton turn in his grave. Are you describing the bag???
Friend: Yes shut up and listen.
Me: Sigh ok
Friend: It’s burgundy
Me: Now I have new hope in my friend. Not many men even know burgundy is a colour.
Friend: It’s got a coaster like thing on it.
Me: Previously mentioned hopes come crashing down. Er
Friend: Which I think is made of bamboo AND wood.
Me: Wondering if this is the right time to point out bamboo is wood. Decides against it.
Friend: But the bag is kind of small.
Me: What kind of bag is it?
Friend: mumble mumble
Me: Ok is it like a formal bag that you would carry for a dinner or a play?
Friend: Deafening silence
Me: Er hello?
Friend: Who has separate bags for dinners and plays?
Me: The bag lover in me cringes Most women do.
Friend: What! (in a tone like i just told him Scarlet Johanssen used to be a he). I have a bag for a phase in my life. I cant believe you have bags for occasions.
Me: Bag lover in me is dying a slow and painful death.
Friend: Ah ok enough of this, let me send u a MMS and then let you let me know.

Phew, the world is beautiful again. Thank god for technology. Bag lover is me is resurrected from the dead.

p.s. The actual bag turned out to be nothing like the description. K if your reading this, its ok we still love you :D

Its that time of the year again

I woke up this morning and was disoriented for a bit with the extreme silence around me. I then realize the ten day feast at my church down the road has drawn to an end yesterday.

Every August, my church celebrates this grand and colourful feast. Since I live four doors from this church, I can hear the festive singing like the choir was in my living room. For ten days prayers and hymns are offered throughout the day. On the other 355 days of the year, my road is one of the sleepiest in the city. But during the feast, the whole road is lit up with fairy lights and hundred of stalls selling everything from egg bhajis to glass bangles pop up.

Ever since I moved out of my hometown for studies and work, I have not had a chance to experience the whole ten days. This time around, I was surprised when i realized I missed these festivities. Every day on my way back from the evening prayers, I browse through the stalls. Though I have no intention of buying pink plastic guns or glittery purple bangles, the riot of colors is fun to watch. I was amused to note that this year's hot selling item were neon lit horns that every other person from grown men to little girls had perched on their heads.

Apart from the fun and festivities it amazes me how some of the traditions associated with this feast have been carried for more than a hundred years. Simple things like this about my town never cease to amaze me.

I was super excited to be experiencing all this after a long long time and decided to enthrall my sister on the phone. As I rattled on, she dryly replied that I sounded like a wannabe booker prize writer. Ah well I am going to pretend she meant it as a compliment.

Girl with a dragon tattoo

I have been hearing rave reviews about this book for some time now. Normally when the world is talking about a book or movie it usually disappoints me thanks to the high standards it has to meet.
This one however was quite the opposite. I had ordered it online and it arrived on a perfect day. The TNEB was once again was playing with my life and had decided to gift us with a day-long power cut. Just as I was wondering what I should do, this book arrived. I do not remember the last time I read a book for nine hours at a stretch. It truly was an engrossing piece of work and it had spooked me out enough to make me forego my nocturnal walks for a while.

The story is of my favourite genre – mystery/thriller. Set in Sweden , it not only is a classic murder mystery but also gives you a peak into modern Swedish economy and the country ‘s role during Hitler’s regime. None of the characters in the book are a clear black or white , they are all shades of grey including the protagonists.

Unfortunately like Heath Ledger, the author of this book Stieg Larsson did not live to see what a global phenomenon his work has turned out to be. The book is the first of a triology and I can’t wait to lay hands on the other two.

I was mortified to see that the books had already been made into movies (Swedish dubbed in English). I use the word mortified because i have seen many a beautiful book butchered by heartless film makers. Curiosity got the better of me and I watched it. As expected the movie was not as half as good as the book. My heart bleeds as I read yesterday that Hollywood will be re-making the movie next year. I already know that this movie will not have the essence of the original story. Yes i am little prejudiced. Something about a murder mystery in a East European country with a dark history lends it an eerie touch. I strongly doubt Americanizing it will have the same impact.
Really the movie has been dubbed in English, why cant you be happy with that? Why make an American version? Sigh I shall soothe my bleeding

A Wedding to remember

S had been planning her five day wedding for months now and when the day was finally near I was more that geared up for several reasons. I had always wanted to visit her home town, this was my first Muslim wedding and well of late I have been bored out of my brains.


So off I went to Kayalpatnam. I was quite looking forward to going to a place that literally meant city of fish. And I wasn't disappointed. It is the cutest little small town ever. Despite being just forty minutes away from my hometown, it couldn't be more different.

With a predominant Muslim population, the town comprises traditional style houses built around the mosque. All houses have separate entrances for men and women. The streets are a maze of quaint alleys and courtyards linking the houses together.

The wedding went on for five days , of which I stayed on for three days of undiluted fun. The wedding ceremonies were an eclectic mix of colorful clothes, yummy food and traditional rituals. My favorite part was when tambourine bearing girls danced around the bride and the women folk sang Arabic songs. I felt like I had been transported into a middle eastern movie!



Some of us guests took some time off to visit the famous Murugan temple in the neighboring town of Tiruchendur. A fifteen minute drive away from Kayalpatnam , Tiruchendur is a world apart. The temple situated on the beach may not have the grandiose of several other famous ones, but it does have a rustic charm of its own. We did an unsuccessful attempt to visit Valli's cave. A long queue in a claustrophobia enticing area discouraged us. Not before I was fascinated to notice that the cave had ceiling fans! This is something that I totally love about India, in matter of fifteens minutes you can be transported to a whole new world all together.

This post wouldn't be complete without mentioning two lovely people I met at this Wedding. Cat, English by race but Sri Lankan by heart. Choosing to work in Colombo she has embraced all things Sri lankan - Buddhism, black tea and iddiappam. The second blog worthy person was little Zain. Before I met this five year old gentleman, I had no clue who Ben-10 was or how cool he is.

So S thank for you the funtastic weekend and here's wishing you a fabulous life ahead!

500 days of summer

Colombo is underwater. We are sitting on the verandah of my grandparents house and watching the pool of water which until a few days ago was our lawn. My sister is cursing the rains which has deprived her of a visit to the mall. My aunt is cursing some cousin who has apparently betrayed her trust.

I hear the baker on his tricycle with his trade mark tring tring come down the street. Rain or shine, the "bread man" is at our doorstep every afternoon. And every afternoon my aunt buys me a sticky chocolate doughnut. She feels its her duty to carry one what my grandmother used to do. I have no heart to tell her that i actually hate the doughnut. As a child the only reason i insisted on those chocolaty buns was to squash it between my fingers till chocolate oozed all over. A messy ritual that annoyed my mother to no end.

My aunt is ranting about the evil cousin, but i am more focussed on trying to figure out what those little silver balls on doughnuts are called. I know i am going to be asked for an opinion so I start paying attention to the rants. My aunt exclaims in her exasperated fashion that just when you think you know someone they spring a surprise on you. I pause midway through my chocolate bun examination as I realize this is exactly what I had been thinking about a few days ago. Except mine was on a slightly more positive note. Have you ever had a friend who you sort of knew on a "hello how is the weather" basis. And never really ventured beyond that. But one fine day you really get to talk to this person and voila you actually have a wonderful conversation. You realize this friend is like that box on your loft - full of surprises and you wonder why you never saw that before. This enlightenment may be because your finally taking time out or may be its just Facebook. What ever it is, I'm raising my doughnut to the little surprises in life.
--

Reason number 324 why I am grateful for my small town existence

I have lived in a small town for two thirds of my life. I confess, my town has just one traffic signal which was inaugurated with much pomp. And yes when I first came to Madras as a child I thought the Anna fly over was like the coolest thing ever. This has often been a source of amusement for my city bred friends. (yes yes you know who you are)

But I wont complain much staying in the middle of the spectrum between the urban life and rustic village life isn't too bad. Last week actually gave me a chance to thank my stars for my small town roots. We had to attend my driver's daughter's engagement at a nearby village. So off we went on a hot Sunday afternoon.

Once the groom side arrived, all the men of both families sat around in a circle with a basket of salt in the center. While the entire village stood in the sidelines. I was truly fascinated by now. The "nattamai" (village head) then announced that they could start. I thought this was where the engagement ceremony begins. But no I was wrong, here was apparently the most important part of the day. The proceedings started with a random lady from the crowd shouting "so how much dowry are you giving your daughter?".Apparently directed at the bride's father. Random aunt's friend added" speak loudly we all want to hear". My fascination gave way to horror when I realized, the brides side was expected to answer in detail to all the questions thrown at them. My poor driver answered patiently on how much gold and cash he was going to give.

Finally a lady from the groom's side stood up (Who in my humble opinion should audition for Ekta kapoor's monster mom in law teledramas) She thundered "what only so much? this is disrespectful" . The bride's side squirmed and continued their negotiation. Eventually they came to a consensus that they would give the groom a gazillion grams gold chain. Ladies, how many of you out there would marry a man who not only demands but also wears something like that?OK we digress. As ridiculous as it looked, I really felt bad for bride's family.

Thankfully the negotiation drew to a close and the rest of the ceremony went on less melodramatically. As we drove back, I realized how clean the entire village was and how much relatively cooler it was. Mainly thanks to the rows of Neem trees. But still I am grateful for my small town existence. Thank you.

The man in the arena

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Theodore Roosevelt

Real life drama.

I have often amused/annoyed/entertained friends and family with my borderline obsession with television drama series. More often than not, the ones that top the list do not top the TRP ratings.

Recently I sent my friend into a fit of cackles after I told her that sometimes I get the most pragmatic advice from my drama series. So to prove to her that I don't need help, here I am picking three "pearls of wisdom" imparted to me this week.

““Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.”
From Sex and the City

I've had to say good-bye more times than I may have liked, but everyone can say that. And no matter how many times we have to do it - even if it's for the greater good, it still stings. And although we will never forget what we've given up, we owe it to ourselves to keep moving forward. What we can't do is live our lives afraid of the next good-bye because chances are they are not going to stop. The trick is to recognize when a good-bye can be a good thing - when it's a chance to start again.
From Ugly Betty

"The problem with fairy tales is that they set a girl up for disappointment. In real life, the prince goes off with the wrong princess."
From Gossip Girl (hey the show isnt as shallow as it sounds!)