Exploring Karnataka: From Palace to Pak!

On entering Mysore, we were struck by the clean streets, tidy houses and well-kept gardens. Further in, we drove past the imposing St. Philomena's Church, which is built along the unmistakable lines of the Cologne Cathedral.

After a quick lunch at Hotel Ramanashree, we moved on towards Mysore Palace. This was the first time I was seeing any kind of Indian palace, and I was quite unprepared for the sheer beauty of it.

You step in through the gates and there's the palace stretching out on the left, with an intricately carved temple on the right, just as you enter. We snapped off a good many pictures outside because cameras aren't allowed inside and rightly so, as the continual flashes from a steady stream of tourists would surely cause the paint to fade.

But still, that didn't stop me from wishing that I could've taken some photos, because the interiors were just that gorgeous. A plaque outside had stated that the palace was designed in the Indo-Saracenic style, which means that it combines British and Mughal design elements. Floors, walls, ceilings, doors are all exquisite, intricately crafted works of art. The overall colours inside were vibrant reds, greens and blues with gilded borders that somehow work wonderfully together to create this richly vibrant look. All the doors were masterpieces in wood, and in some of the rooms, so were the ceilings!!!

We saw the throne room with its famous golden throne which is only displayed to the public during the Dasara festival period - pretty lucky timing for us! This was also the first time I saw a machine gun. Not that machine guns were used in the palace's heydays ...... they belonged to the many security officers present in this particular room :)

The main door leading to this throne room is this jaw-dropping, absolutely stunningly carved creation, made of what we believe is silver, or definitely some metal because it has that silverish, pinkish tarnished look. I would've loved to run my fingers over it, but unfortunately you only see it as you go down a staircase.

Then we entered what I suppose is a viewing gallery which looks out onto the big courtyard, where preparations were on for Dasara. The ceiling is in sections here. Each section is lavishly painted with depictions of various gods and scenery, set against what appears to be the sky, all of which is surrounded by a huge painted frame.

And here's where I noticed something surprising. Nearly all the frames had what were unmistakably angels outside and in several depictions, Hindu gods were shown as having angel-like wings! On second thought, it made perfect sense because this palace was designed by an English architect. Leaving the palace then I was struck by what a beautiful testimony to intercultural art and architecture this palace is.

By then it was already around 5 p.m. and we desperately needed a caffeine fix. We also had one quick stop to make before moving on: I mean, what is the point of going to Mysore if you don't buy Mysore pak???

So off we went in search of coffee and sweets, looking for Cafe Coffee Day for the former, and a shop called Bombay Tiffany's for the latter. Fortunately, both turned out to be on Devaraj Urs Road which must be the fashion street of Mysore - all the big brand outlets were there! After tasting various mithai, hubs & me settled on some almond barfi for him, my all-time favourite - peda - and of course, some totally sinful, melt-in-your-mouth-coz-its-loaded-with-ghee Mysore pak! Yayyyy!!!

Our original plan had been to visit Brindavan next, and so we were off again. Only we didn't realise how far the gardens were (19 kms fyi) from Mysore, and so by the time we reached it was already dark. We could've caught the musical fountain show but the crowd there was overwhelming, being a Sunday and nearing festival time. Plus there were too many unsavoury looking types there which made us all a bit uncomfortable given that they turn off all the lights for the fountain show.

The decision to leave was quick, and since it had been a pretty long day, we decided to head home. SIL and me were a bit sad as we had hoped to drive through Mysore and see the palace and the rest of the town all lit up. We also couldn't make it back to St. Philomena's Church. But as BIL pragmatically pointed out: leave something for the next trip!

Exploring Karnataka: Feathers & Scales

Last Sunday, we set off on a day-long trip to see some of the sights near Bangalore. There were four of us: hubby & me, his bro & his wife (BIL and SIL for the rest of the post). On the agenda were the Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary, Mysore Palace and Brindavan Gardens.

We'd decided to start at 7:30 a.m., so naturally, we only left at 8:15 :) We took the Kanakpura road out onto the Bangalore-Mysore highway, and planned to stop for breakfast at the much-hyped Kamath's. The place was packed as usual, though I don't know why, because the food doesn't live up to its reputation. It was all quite lacklustre and I found myself comparing it to the absolutely scrumptious fare I'd enjoyed at my local Adiyar Ananda Bhavan (A2B as its popularly known, and how I love that name!!!) Maybe its just that I prefer the Tamilian take on the dishes over the Kannadiga style ..... I am told that they are quite different and I will take hubby's word for it.

Anyway, after that filling but not satisfying breakfast, we proceeded on to Ranganathittu. I fell into a light doze and only snapped out of it when SIL made an offhand comment about how many crocodiles we would see.

"What???" I croaked. Crocodiles??? In a bird sanctuary?????


Childhood memories of Khoon Bhari Maang flooded my brain and I started having a silent, but potent, panic attack. What if something terrible happened? What if I lost a limb? What if I didn't make it back at all? I tried to pray, but images of Rekha being attacked by the croc still dominated.

Next to me, hubby calmly flipped through a guidebook and handed the part on the bird sanctuary to me. That's when I realised that Ranganathittu is a set of small islets on the Cauvery river and you have to go around in a boat (silent groans.......because I am not a boating fan) to see the birds. Whoever wrote the review apparently also flipped out after realising there were crocs, only to be reassured that the beasts are amply fed on fish from the Cauvery and so are uninterested in humans.

The worst of the panic subsided after I read this, though I still had serious qualms about what was coming up. But I didn't have any choice except to go ahead, and so ...... I did. One of the first things that reassured me on entering the sanctuary was the number of people there, all happily enjoying the place. I thought, hmmm ...... nothing seems to have happened to them, nothing will happen to me too.

From then on, I was my usual camera-crazed self ........ for a bit. We went up to this viewing platform with insanely steep steps. Climbing up was no problem, but looking at the steps from the top set off the panic again (yeah, I have issues with heights and with going down steps too :)) Basically, I have issues with a lot of things, but then I recalled this realisation I had a long time ago, even posted over here.

So I took a deep breath, told myself to focus and stop being a wimp and went down the damn steps. That same focus and hubby's firm hand got me on to the pokey little boat and then off we went. We were oohing and aahing over the many, many birds when hubs excitedly pointed out the first croc. And there it was, swimming just about ten feet away from us, not even looking at us. Seconds later, on the shore of the islet we were passing, a massive croc got up and turned its back on us. No baring of teeth, or snapping of scary jaws ....... just outright disinterest.

Well, that wasn't so bad, I thought. In fact, it had actually been pretty cool! Then on, I truly did enjoy myself. The birds were amazing, with the sweetest sight being the mommy birds feeding the little babies. Our boatman was quite the informative guide, who told us that these birds were the White Ibis, who'd come over from Nigeria, and that there were 50 crocodiles in the sanctuary (we barely saw five of them by the end, and I was actually disappointed :D).

We also saw cormorants, night herons, lapwings, wagtails ..... (or was it laptails & wagwings??? No, I'm sure I got it right the first time :)) On some of the taller trees, there were loads of what appeared like black leaves hanging from the higher branches. I looked at them curiously till hubby grinned and said they were bats! Thank heaven we were there in the middle of the day and nowhere around when those awful things woke up!!!


One of the best sights were the birds gracefully flying from islet to islet, swooping low over the water as they did so. SIL and me were frantically twisting left and right, trying to get those perfect shots of a bird with widespread wings that you see in magazines. Needless to say, we were unsuccessful. Wildlife photography requires the utmost patience and I stand in complete awe and respect of those people who patiently wait it out in the wild, to capture the animals in all their ...... animalness!

Our trip around the sanctuary was a scant half hour and it felt like we'd barely begun when we reached back. We walked along the banks of the river, trying to see if we could spot birds on the mainland, but didn't see any except the omnipresent crow! After some refreshing drinks from the small cafeteria, we then headed on towards Mysore ........ to be continued!


p.s.: In case you're wondering why there are no photos accompanying this post, well, that's because I'm seriously considering starting a photoblog (don't know why I never thought of it before). Hope to have it up by the end of this week.

Tag # 3: Q & A Time

The tag game continues, many thanks to Renu :) An interesting bunch of questions to be answered, some to which the replies were instantaneous, others that required some thought.

RULE #1 - People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.

RULE #2 - Tag 6 people to do this quiz and those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.

********

1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?

I would be shattered, then murderously angry & would eventually cool down to indifference and therefore being single.

2. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be?

That all my family live close enough for us to meaningfully be a part of each other's lives.

3. Whose butt would you like to kick?

People who don't do anything positive, but will spend a lot of time and effort to screw things up for others.

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?

Invest the bulk of it for a steady stream of income that would let hubby & me: keep donating money to worthy charities; send my parents & parents-in-law to their dream destinations; buy homes in London, Florence, Bombay & Kerala; travel and see as much of God's gorgeous earth as possible .

5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?

My best friends are hubby & my family and I obviously love them; have other close friends too who I love, but no, wouldn't be in love with them.

6. Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?

I used to take it for granted that if there is a relationship between two people, any relationship - parent-child, or siblings, friends, spouses etc - love just automatically exists. But I have sadly learned this is not necessary: you may love, but it doesn't mean that you will get that love back, so definitely receiving love is the greater blessing, in fact, the greatest blessing.

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you love?

Going beyond the man-woman love context to love in any relationship, I would wait as long as it takes.

8. If the person you secretly like is attached, what will you do?

Wish them well and move on.

9. If you could root for one social cause, what would it be?

Taking basic education to the level of understanding and respecting differences in religions and cultures, coz just having a degree doesn't necessarily make you tolerant.

10. What takes you down the fastest?

Intolerance and discrimination.

11. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?

I honestly don't know where I'll be; but in terms of what .... hopefully a mum of two and aunt to more nieces & nephews :), and a better artist, cook, writer & photographer than I am today.

12. What’s your fear?

Falling down steps .... seriously, I'm phobic about going down steps :)

13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?

An idealistic soul with a practical mind; devoted wife & mum yet an individual in her own right.

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?

Married to hubby ..... I can handle anything with him by my side.

15. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously who will you pick?

I don't think you can love two people simultaneously. Love for me means a lifelong responsibility & commitment to one person; if someone else is also in the picture, it can't be love.....probably just a serious infatuation :)

16. Would you give all in a relationship?

Otherwise what is the point?

17. Would you forgive and forget someone no matter how horrible a thing he has done?

The basic prayer of Christianity is the 'Our Father' which clearly states that God forgives you in the same way you forgive others; if I don't forgive, I can't expect God's forgiveness either. I recite this prayer daily, and in my book, to keep saying it and then not even try to do it makes the prayer pointless. So even though I don't forget, I do try to forgive and continue to be good to those who have hurt me.

18. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship?

Hubby has enhanced my life, so definitely with him :D

19. List of people to tag (alphabetically):

Diligent Candy

Prashant Sree

Preethi

Reflections

Thought Warp

The Axe Effect

Not that this blog is turning into some sort of house-pest-story center, but Mystique Wanderer (ahem!) kindly directed me to what he'd written on lizards, and that reminded me about our most recent lizard incident ..... cannot believe I forgot about this one!

I headed to the bathroom one night & pushed the door open only to see a lizard dash across the front of the door around to the back. Naturally, I screamed and dashed off to hubby, utterly traumatized at the thought of a lizard in my bathroom. Seeing my state, hubby very gallantly told me he would take care of it, and I went off to use the guest bathroom.

I could hear him moving around and the sounds of paper and plastic rustling, and when I came out, he stood there with a plastic bag securely knotted up in his hand, a big grin on his face. I asked him if the lizard was inside it. Yes, he replied proudly.

Amazed, I stared at him, wondering how on earth he'd managed to catch a lizard and that too in a matter of minutes. Just as I was about to ask him, my olfactory sense registered the presence of a very powerful fragrance.

"Did you spray your deo?????"

Still grinning, he described what he'd done: he managed to scare the lizard into coming out of the bathroom and onto the adjacent wall. He didn't want to kill it, but at the same time we needed it out of the house. So he placed a newspaper on the floor under the lizard and grabbed whatever aerosol was closest ..... in this case, Axe!!!

One good direct spurt and the lizard fell onto the paper. It was very much alive .... just moving around like a drunk. He scooped up the paper, lizard and all, into the plastic bag, tied it up and waited for me to make my entrance.

I just stared at him, stunned. The laughter only came after he went out, opened the bag and left it at the corner we leave our garbage in.

So there you have it, ladies & gentlemen, our version of The Axe Effect :D

Rat Tales

I was over at Reflections' blog, reading her post on a rat ..... invasion ??? no, too harsh a term for a single rat. Anyway, it brought to mind my own rat story, which I started to type as a comment over there......then realised well, this is too long for a comment, so I may as well turn it into a post.

A few years ago, someone accidentally left the drain cover underneath the kitchen sink open once. I was curled up in the living room which faces the kitchen and was leisurely reading away when I sensed some movement in front of me......a big fat rat scurries from under the sink across the kitchen and goes under the fridge. And I just froze!!! I must've sat there like 5 minutes just staring at that spot when my sister entered & looked at me in her usual way..... like I'm a bit slow in the head.

I told her what I saw & in the next instant, she's beside me on the sofa, legs up and we're both staring at the kitchen floor. After a few minutes we see the miserable thing run back to under the sink and we both cover our faces with cushions & smother our squeals .... coz mom was taking her afternoon siesta & if she didn't catch her one-hour nap, she was prone to headaches the following day.

So there we were .... two teenage girls (ok ok, in all honesty, I was about 20), quivering with fear on the sofa, cushions held in a deathgrip, till mommy woke up & came to our rescue. When we told her what'd happened, she looked at us like the ninnies we were and then stalked off to examine the drain under the sink. After poking around there a bit (and yes, we were still on the sofa while our mother was in the danger zone) and not finding anything, she declared that the rat must've returned back down the drain. She put the cover back firmly in place, and went about her work. Only then did sis and me gingerly keep our feet back on the floor and return to normal (or abnormal, as some would term it!)

Anyway, I guess its always easy to fall apart when you know there's someone who'll watch out for you. Thank you Mom!!!

Onam in Pictures

Being Christians, the festival of Onam is not one of religious significance for us, but definitely of cultural importance from the Keralite perspective. This year was the first time I've celebrated the festival in the land of its origin, and since the whole family on hubby's side was together, we went all-out to make it memorable.


Our humble first-time effort at making the traditional pookalam (flower carpet) in front of the house, a totally family affair with hubby & me drawing the main outlines and everyone else involved in plucking petals and carefully filling in the design. The second pic has a fork in the corner ..... our "sophisticated" pookalam shaping tool :D

Our Onam sadya (meal) served traditionally in the banana leaf.

A row of elephants at a nearby temple; there was to be a major procession later in the evening, but the rain decided otherwise. Fortunately, it let up enough for a fireworks display later that night. Unfortunately, my night-time photography skills aren't worth mentioning, forget about blogging :), so that's pretty much it for this post.

Awarded!

Renu gave me this award, meant for sites and blogs that are smart and brilliant in their content or design. Many thanks to you, Renu, more so for the reason you said you have given me this. I am truly touched :)

And since appreciation always feels great, whoever came up with this award idea (good on you!) decided to spread the cheer. The rules are:

1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.

2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.

3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with ‘Brilliant Weblog'.

4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).

5. And pass it on!

Right, now most of the blogs I read have already been awarded, and deservedly so. And since I don't get out that much into the blogosphere, I doubt I know seven other blogs. But the ones I do know and like, here you go:

1. Jay: for his take on music, movies etc. I may not always agree with what he writes (:P), but I do enjoy his writing.

2. Thought Warp: a like-minded soul with some great poetry in there.

3. Moi: for her amazing photo-blog.

4. Global Themes: a collaborative photo-blog I just had to be a part of the moment I came across it. I think one of my buddies there has already passed this award on, but doesn't matter, I think it deserves another!

5. Bombay Addict: simply for being a Bombay addict; he writes on a lot of stuff, but his Bombay-based posts are what I really like.

Keep it brilliant people!!!

A Life of Joy

A few days ago, I watched "The Bucket List". Two total strangers - an arrogant billionaire (played by Jack Nicholson) and an ordinary mechanic (played by Morgan Freeman) - with nothing in common except that they've both been diagnosed with cancer, wind up sharing a hospital room. Witness to each other's sufferings during the course of their treatment, they eventually become friends.

Confronted by the fact that he's got just months left, Freeman's character Carter starts jotting down a 'bucket list' - a list of all the things he would like to do before he "kicks the bucket". Nicholson's character Edward also puts in his suggestions, and since he's got nothing but money, says they should just go out and do it, instead of waiting for the cancer to claim them.

And that's what the movie's all about - them doing the things and seeing the places they've always wanted to, in the process bringing about a much-needed transformation in each other, so that they return better men to spend whatever time they have left with their families.

It may not be a great film for many people (hubby dear, your guru Roger Ebert gave it only a 1-star rating), but I quite liked it and sentimental fool that I am, even shed a few tears at the ending.

But there was this one idea / thought / philosophy in the film that I felt was very important, and which is what prompted this post. There's a scene where both characters are in Egypt, sitting atop a pyramid or something. Carter, who is a history buff, is telling Edward about the Egyptian concept of heaven. He says that when people died, they were asked two questions at the gates of heaven, and their answers determined whether or not they got in.


Question 1: Did you find joy in your life?

Pretty easy, right? I suppose most of us would have a resounding YES right away.


Question 2: Did your life bring joy to others?

Not so easy, isn't it? Can you answer 'yes' as quickly or firmly as you would have for the first? I couldn't. Not right away. I thought of my family and friends, and I'm ..... reasonably sure that overall, I'm a joy for them (though inside, there is this niggling guilt for all the times I know I haven't been).

My motto in life, the one defining statement I try to live by is Christ's "Love one another as you love yourself", which is why these questions truly struck a chord. It doesn't say that you shouldn't be happy, no. You absolutely should. But just as you would be happy and find joy in your life ..... you need to care that others do too.

The Horsey Truth about Railroads

Received this in an email today. It's long, but worth reading!

________

The US standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used?

Because that's the way they built them in England, and English expatriates built the US Railroads.

Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.

Why did 'they' use that gauge then?

Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons, which used that wheel spacing.

Okay! Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing?

Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that's the spacing of the wheel ruts.

So who built those old rutted roads?

Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (and England) for their legions. The roads have been used ever since.

And the ruts in the roads?

Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.

The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet,8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot. And bureaucracies live forever.

So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what Horse's Ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because that's what the Imperial Roman army figured. Chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses.

Now, the twist to the story.

When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launchpad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory at Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site.

The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains. The SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses' behinds.

So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a horse's ass.

- And - You thought being a HORSE'S ASS wasn't important!

__________

I laughed so hard when I read this!!! But then I wondered, how many things do we do today simply because that's the way they've "always" been done? How many things we just blindly follow without even once asking why?

Lost in Subtitles!

So last night, my sister and I sat down for a long-awaited (at least by me!) bonding session, or what she calls, "sistah-sistah bonding" :) Now, don't expect any heart-to-hearts or baring of souls; we bond over movies! We've got certain "classics" - movies that we've watched (and watched and watched and watched....) during lazy summer afternoons, usually with a game of Scrabble on the side.

One of these classics is the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. We've got DVDs of all three, bought before they were released as a set. Unfortunately, the third movie DVD doesn't work, so we had the difficult (sigh!) task of choosing between the first two. We finally settled on the second one - The Two Towers - for its superbly filmed battle scenes.

Halfway through, my sister decides to switch on the subtitles ...... there are certain dialogues neither of us have caught, despite having watched it sooo many times. She activated the subtitle feature and then......a split second of stunned disbelief, before we burst into laughter!!! See, the DVD is um, not-so-original, and was made somewhere in the Far East, and whoever provided the subtitles was obviously not well-versed in English, so this action-packed epic instantly turned into a hilarious comedy!!!

Check out the names of the characters:

The tiny Hobbit hero Frodo Baggins became "Flordor Barkings"
The human hero Aragorn became "Alarwang"
The elf Legolas was "Keglax" or something like that.
The creature Smeagol becomes "Smartfy" (really can't see the leap of thought to this name).
Dark Lord Sauron's monstrous army of Uruk-hai were oddly referred to as "Bitch-Men"!
And finally, the best of all, the wizard Gandalf the Grey - "Grey Magic Person Gandofu"!!!

The dialogue was no less. Sadly, I can't recall most of it, except for this gem, where Aragorn is explaining to his immortal Elvish ladylove Arwen (thankfully her name was only missing the 'r'), why they can't be together:

The actual line is "I am mortal, you are elf-clan".

Subtitle: "I am ordinary, you are evil"!!!

And that was another riot: all references to elves somehow ended up as "evil"! Even the F-word found its way into one dialogue!!! Now I haven't read the books, but I'm guessing there's no way its mentioned in the mythical masterpiece!

So here's a suggestion: if you have DVDs from suspect sources, try watching it with the subtitles on. You might find the dramas and thrillers turning into comedies and the comedies getting even more comical :D

My Quirks :)

Tagged again, this time by Renu. The Rules are:

1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs, letting them know that they have been tagged.

Right, so brace yourself for the quirks:

1. I am drawn to the colour red. Its my absolute favourite colour family and I can never have enough of it, so much so that during my college days, there were times when I would step out with a red t-shirt, red handbag, red shoes, red hair clip, red jewellery and even a red cell phone, prompting my beloved sister to inquire if a tomato had vomited on me! The dressing has toned down a tad these days :), but I still have plenty of reds all around me ..... just look at the name of this blog, for instance! Its not the white moon or the yellow moon, but the red moon that especially fascinates me, which kind of takes us to Quirk 2.....

2. ...... that its not just the moon, but the whole sky that I love (does that sound a bit crazy???) I am an avid, ardent, absolutely passionate skygazer (not that I know the first thing about astronomy or even care to know for that matter). Dawn sky, morning sky, noon sky, evening sky, night sky......I love it all! I skygaze quite frequently during the day, to the point that I sometimes forget what I was doing or saying before the sky caught my eye, which leads to Quirk 3....

3..... I am addicted to my camera....have been for over a year now. I could see the sky looking a particularly gorgeous shade of blue, or see an amazing cloud formation, or see trees and their flowers looking especially lovely against the sky, or see......just about anything beautiful, and I'm off running for my camera. I briefly studied photography in college, but just vaguely recall terms like 'f-stops', 'aperture', 'shutter-speed' etc. As with the astronomy thing, I'm not sure I even want to learn about photography...... I'm happier muddling about on my own and manically keep clicking away, much to the frustration of my family (though recently hubby has also started clicking stuff that appeals to him......it seems that I've infected him with the photo bug too......(evil laugh!!!)).

4. I am a doodler. Put a pen and paper in my hand and almost right off, I'll start doodling away. I love applying mehendi and am constantly trying out different designs, so its quite a common sight in my house to see newspapers, post-its, (my notebooks from college) and other miscellaneous papers covered with the typical mehendi motifs as well as whatever weird patterns emerge from my mind.

5. I detest spending time in beauty parlours. I could never understand how some women spend soooo much time in these places for the most frivolous of reasons. All my life, the only reason I entered a parlour was to get my hair cut. Thanks to my mother, I am quite particular about taking care of my skin and hair, but it is all based on natural, DIY kind of stuff. It was only after my wedding date was fixed that I got my first official facial and massage, and it was only for my engagement that I first got my eyebrows plucked. A massage once in a while actually would be quite nice, but I absolutely hate the fact that I now have to go to a parlour twice a month to keep my eyebrows neat. All that time and effort spent in going and coming, when I could be doing something else, anything else.


6. Right from when I was a child, I have loved making chapatis - the flat Indian bread. I remember hounding my mother, my grandmother or whoever else was rolling the dough out to pleeeeeaaaase let me help. They all thought the fascination would die out as I grew older, but till date, it hasn't. I enjoy the whole process, right from kneading the dough, to rolling it out and the final cooking. I actually find it very relaxing, and even when exams were around the corner, I would still ask my mom to keep a few aside for me to roll out. But the best part is when I make phulkas (a variation where you put the chapati directly onto the flame and it fluffs out into a sphere). For me, the moment where it expands into that sphere is extremely fulfilling, almost like attaining nirvana!

So there you have it, 6 quirks from the quirk. To continue the quirkiness, I tag some of the GT gang: Sha'ira, DR, DC, Lirun, Moi and NZM.

Hell's Chicken

Well, I'm back for a month-long sojourn in the sandlands, and quite determined to capture slices of life this time round (as best as I can manage without being clobbered by my camera-weary family). Stepped out to pick up some good ol' Lebanese food last night......


...... and here it is, one of the sights that warms my non-vegetarian heart :)

Book Tagged

At long last my Internet troubles have been resolved, and what do I find when I rejoin the blogging world???

My very first TAG, courtesy of Reflections. So, without much further ado, here are the Rules:

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.

2) Italicize those you intend to read.

3) Underline the books you really love (and strikethrough the ones you hate!).

4) Reprint this list in your own blog.

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1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis

34 Emma - Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Naboko

v63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (children's version.....does that count???)

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnights Children – Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte's Web - EB White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - quite a few of them, though I have to say I prefer Hercule Poirot.

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

My Score - a paltry 10/100. I am a voracious reader, but usually of the romance novel and action-packed thrillers a la Clive Cussler with the occassional spiritual lift from Paulo Coelho, Robin Sharma and the like. My forays into "classic" literature have been few and far between, the last one being a four-day immersion into One Hundred Years of Solitude about a month ago. Brilliantly written, but quite disturbing......I have only just shaken off the after-effects. Catcher in the Rye is next on my list, but I'm in no hurry to pick it up.

In the meanwhile, I tag:

Jay

Preethi

Thought Warp

The Importance of Imagination

In the continuing quirks of the blogosphere, I came across a post of another Pottermaniac (yes, if I haven’t ever mentioned it here before, let me do so now…..I am a diehard Harry Potter fan!!!). In this post, the blogger includes J. K. Rowling’s recent speech at Harvard’s 2008 commencement ceremony. It is a self-deprecatingly humourous and humble discourse titled ‘The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and The Importance of Imagination’.

What really grabbed me was Rowling’s impassioned advocation of imagination. Defining the term more broadly than its usual meaning, she says, “Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.”

She then goes on to share some heartrending incidents from when she worked for Amnesty International, a time that she describes as “one of the greatest formative experiences” of her life. At Amnesty, she witnessed both the incredible evilness, but more importantly, the tremendous goodness of humanity towards humanity; a goodness which is possible because we can imagine what it would feel like to be persecuted and tortured, and therefore empathise with those who have actually undergone such brutalities, and therefore act..... act in whatever way possible with our talents and abilities to prevent such horrible crimes against humanity.

Rowling’s audience of Harvard’s graduating class of 2008 certainly have more talent and ability than most of us, and will assuredly hold important places in their societies. To these shapers of tomorrow, she asks that they use their power to fight for the powerless, because “We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.”

I was so deeply moved by these words that I had to pass it on immediately to family and friends for one, simply because it is an inspirational message, and two, because we could all use a reminder now and then that we each have a moral responsibility to lend a helping hand to those lesser privileged than us in whatever way we can.

I was also curious to see how the speech had been received and so, came across this article on NPR. While most of the Harvard seniors were blown away by Rowling, some were less than impressed. It was interesting to see the reasons why some people took objection:

“…we’re Harvard….we should be able to get anyone….we’re settling here.”

“They should have picked a leader to speak…not a children’s writer.” And so on.

Here are people to whom appearances matter much more than the message, people so full of their own importance that the importance of imagination just passes them by. They may have completed their education from the best university in the world, but are yet to mature to the point of understanding that wisdom can come not only from “leaders”, but from others as well, a “children’s writer” included.

Ultimately, we survive and thrive as a species because in some way or the other, at some point or the other, we help each other out. Without these simple values of humility, empathy and compassion, Harvard-educated or not, you don’t amount to much as a human being.

In Bloom

A few years ago in Bombay, I realized how much a room came alive just by placing some flowers in it. I was lucky enough to have several small-time florists (and by florists, I mean guys with bunches of flowers and a tarp for a roof) all within walking distance from home. So picking up a few flowers became a weekly routine......nothing extravagant, just a couple of carnations, or some gerberra stalks, or a single shoot of orchids. Going about daily chores, or coming home after a long day and seeing those cheerful blooms always put the cheer back in me too.

In the few months that I've called Bangalore home, last week was the first time that I bought some flowers - 2 rosebuds to be exact and a sprig of fillers.

I miss the easy accessibility to flowers that I enjoyed in Bombay; florists - big and small-time - aren't exactly within walking distance here. But in all fairness, they're not too out of my usual way, and after seeing these babies, I'm definitely willing to go the extra bit to get them!

Lourdes - Part 2

The main pilgrimage centre at Lourdes called 'The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes', was a short walk from our hotel. Pictured below is the Rosary Basilica. During the time of the major Catholic feasts and festivals, the town is overwhelmed by pilgrims from across the globe. However, since our stay didn't coincide with any of the main events, the crowd level was at a pleasant bustle.

You can call me fanciful, but I swear the moment I stepped through the gates of the Sanctuary, it was as if the buzz of the world right outside the walled compound hushed away...... a nearly tangible sense of peace descended over me. We had hoped to attend a Mass and as it turned out, one was just about to start, although in French. Though we didn't understand a word, it was one of the most moving church experiences of my life partly because of the priest who sang the hymns with such faith and conviction that language was not a barrier, and partly at the sight of people from so many nationalities harmoniously sitting together in prayer.


The Rosary Basilica as viewed from the back. The River Gave flows along the Sanctuary and is tied into Lourdes's miraculous legacy. Between February-March 1858, a 14-year old local girl, Bernadette Soubirous, saw 18 apparitions of the Virgin Mary at a place called Massabielle. Although Bernadette was surrounded by hundreds and thousands of curious onlookers during the later apparitions, she was the only one to see the Virgin. It was during one of the later apparitions that theVirgin asked her to drink from a stream (an offshoot of the Gave), which was quite muddy at the time. This was a form of penance for the sinners of the world. Since that time, the waters of the stream have had miraculous healing properties.

The young Bernadette devoted her life then on to the church as a nun, but died young in 1879 after a prolonged and painful illness. The Catholic church, quite rigourous when it comes to legitimizing miracles and visions, had taken four years to declare the apparitions as real after their occurence and Bernadette was sainted only in 1933. Another intriguing part about this humble saint is that her body has not decomposed. It can be viewed intact at another shrine in a place called Nevers, which was she had taken her vows.

This is the Grotto of Massabielle. The statue in the niche is that of The Virgin Mary in the spot where the apparitions occured. The stream that Bernadette drank from flows in the grotto beneath. The Basilica's foundations rest over this holy spot and the faithful gather here to pray and light candles.

Lourdes - Part 1

Getting back to Tourope, I've decided to start at the end rather than the beginning. The little town of Lourdes in the south of France was not part of the package tour, but is renowned as a Christian pilgrimage destination due to the appearance of Mother Mary to a young girl (St. Bernadette) and the consequent miraculous powers of the river that runs through Lourdes. Our tour ended in Paris, and so my parents felt that we should make the extra effort and visit Lourdes.

We'd had an extraordinarily wonderful three weeks in Europe, but all that changed the morning we were to depart for Lourdes. Our tour guide had told us we would have no problem getting a taxi to the train station from our hotel in Paris. Just to make sure we wouldn't be delayed, we stepped out nearly 2 hours in advance and waited out front.....and kept waiting and waiting and waiting for the surprisingly elusive taxis. Repeated visits to the concierge proved fruitless as they kept saying that we would get taxis. The only other option was to take the subway train which was not tempting as we were loaded down with four heavy suitcases plus hand baggage and as anyone who's travelled through these systems knows that while they're great for daily commutes, the never-ending staircases and winding corridors aren't easy navigation with luggage.

Finally, my frustrated father insisted they call for a taxi, which they did only to stay on hold for like half an hour. When we were about 45 minutes from the train departure time, it dawned on the hotel staff that since the airshow was going on, the rest of the city would likely be facing a taxi shortage. We were mad enough to get into a fight.....I mean, come on, this is the world famous Paris airshow, its been going on in their city for years and they only tell us about the taxis after 2 hours????

We were then left with no choice but to take the subway. And what a nightmarish trip that was!!! I'm not going to dwell on the details now. Of course we ended up missing our train, had to cough up some more Euros for tickets on a later train and then cooled our heels for a few hours at the station. Needless to say, we weren't in the best of moods. We weren't left with a favourable impression of the Parisians at the hotel and didn't know what to expect ahead at Lourdes.

However, the 5-hour train ride went smoothly. We arrived at the sleepy little station at Lourdes and thankfully, stepped into a taxi right outside. We drove through quaint roads, got a passing glimpse of the main shrine before turning onto a street lined with narrow buildings practically sticking to each other - all hotels to accomodate the millions of pilgrims and tourists who arrive every year. I was a bit apprehensive as I was the one who'd chosen the hotel and all I'd had to guide me were Internet reviews. But it turned out to be quite nice - cozy, warm interiors bustling with cheerful groups of pilgrims from all over the world. The staff at reception were friendly too, a welcome change from those at the Paris hotel. In fact, the man who checked us in was an Arab who'd recently moved to Lourdes from Dubai! He was delighted when we said we'd come from Abu Dhabi.

After that pleasant welcome, we went up to our rooms. I did a cursory neatness-cleanliness check and then headed straight to that which for me, determines the worth of a room - its view. All I'll write now is that my jaw dropped. I'll let the pictures speak the rest of it.

The River Gave that runs through Lourdes flowed right next to our hotel and all those other buildings you see, also hotels. Our hotel had hanging balconies, so I was quite literally standing over the river!

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The 1000 year old Chateau Fort atop a hill overlooking River Gave.

Revisiting Europe

May 2007 - not only was I frantically struggling to complete my dissertation for that one piece of paper which would deem me a 'Master', I was also accompanying my mother on an equally frantic round of trips to apply for & collect visas for our family's dream European vacation. Everything went off smoothly and we left on June 3rd 2007 for one of the best times we've ever had. I started to blog the experience here, but didn't get around to completing it (yes, procrastination is one of my weaknesses).

Europe has never been far from my mind since, but it was only recently when I was showing the pictures to my husband, that the tremendous beauty of all the big things and the small things that made up our trip, hit me all over again. And this time round, I will do full justice to Tourope.

Food and me

Some months ago, the topic of discussion on a radio program I used to tune into centred on food, and how one could control food intake. One method is to try and not think of food. Apparently, there's two kinds of people - those that think of food a lot, and those that just don't. Not think of food???? Freaks!!!!!

I love food. Really love food. Not in a gluttonous sense that I'm gorging every other minute, but that I like the anticipation of what my three meals of the day will be, and of course, the relishing of every morsel during the meal. I come from a totally foodie family, where nearly everyone is at the very least, a good cook, if not a great one.

Before marriage, my relationship with food (yes, I believe you have relationships with food) was based on me doing the eating only. I'd help out my mom, who is one of the most exceptional cooks I know, but I was never tempted to cook anything on my own. I baked, though. I love cakes & all sorts of confectionery, so after moving to the UAE and finding the best of ingredients readily available, I threw myself into baking....and found that while I liked what I prepared, it was more satisfying to see my creations being savoured and enjoyed by others.

But now.... I'm coming to realise that its infinitely more fulfilling to prepare the food we eat on a daily basis. The first dish that I made, rather nervously, was a simple stir-fry chicken, one that I'd seen my mom throw together countless times. And the review from hubby was that it was good. Confidence boosted, I went ahead. Its been over a month since that day, and I'm more relaxed now. It hasn't all been smooth sailing....I have had my disasters and no doubt, will continue to encounter them from time to time, but I'm not going to let that stop me. The key to any relationship is hard work and commitment, and food is no different.

Somewhere along the way, my relationship with food has evolved, and I've come to love preparing it as much as I love savouring it. I actually enjoy planning the menu for the week, enjoy sifting through recipes, especially enjoy tweaking those recipes a bit, and of course, I enjoy the process of cooking itself. I've channelled my creative juices into many activities before, but this is so much better! Its an incredibly heartwarming high to see my food being totally relished, and God.....a deliciously rewarding experience overall!!!

Blessed

Blogger's block. Soooo much has happened in my life since the turn of the year, actually since the last few months of the old year, but I can't find the words to put it all together. I've been meaning to, wanting to, been playing the words around in my head, but I can't.....blogger's block. Or is it?

Now that I'm actually putting this down, I'm realizing that its not really a block. I feel. Soooo much that its just too huge to put into words. 'Humbled', 'awed', 'grateful', 'loved'.....they begin to cover it, but only just. So I think I'll leave the words aside, and simply feel. Feel all of these things, and above all of them, feel blessed. Blessed for the family I was born into, blessed for the family I just got married into, blessed for my man.

My symbol of peace

'First time' occurrence today: saw the moon, or at least a pale shadow of it, at 1 p. m.

What's so special, you might ask. Well.....I love the moon. I love looking at it. The sight of the moon, whether a faint crescent or a brightly glowing orb, has always put a smile on my face, even in the worst of my moods.

I tend to overthink things - small things, big things, something is always going on in my head, and its easy to get overwhelmed by it all sometimes. But when I see the moon, its like everything.....calms down. I feel at peace, especially if its a brightly glowing full moon.

But the biggest treat, and to me, one of the most glorious sights in all of nature's wonder, is a red moonrise. I've only ever caught glimpses of it, usually while travelling - twisting and turning in my seat to see it better :)

It's one of my deepest desires to have enough time and of course, be in the right place, to watch a red moon rise, uninterrupted. I think I've blogged about this before, but it's worth remembering again.....I feel peaceful.

Keep running

"Sometimes life is like a treadmill:

you keep running, but you get nowhere."

This came to me as I walked passed a gym yesterday and saw someone on a treadmill. At the time, I thought I was having one of my (rare) moments of insight, but now I can't help thinking that I've read this somewhere. Hmmm.

Interesting thought, anyway. Pessimistic, but interesting.

Numb

I want to feel something, anything
but all I feel is numb.
No valid reason, no annoying rhyme.
Just a fog-like insulation
Keeping things from sinking in.
No, I'm not hooked on anything,
I'm completely addiction-free.
Is that the problem???
Heh, of course not (a smile, at last!)

(Maybe I'll just start with this for now)

Life is a Cycle

Picking up where I left off:

Life is a cycle…
and I'm learning to ride.
Though I fall
more often than I move ahead,
beyond the burn
of every bruise
lies a lesson
waiting to be learnt:
sometimes in confidence,
sometimes in humility;
sometimes in turning the other cheek,
sometimes in an eye for an eye.

Contradictions? Yes.
For isn't that the answer
to cycling well:
Finding your balance.

© me

What it is we hold on to

I don't think I'm the sort of person who enthusiastically embraces change, or at least not in my personal life. It's not that I avoid change, no. I accept, I face and I move on.....but in my own time and in my own way, after much dwelling on my life as it has been..... savouring the good, learning from the bad.

I love introspection (just realised that!) I do it all the time, but I’ve just realised that I love it as I type these words. Funny how realisations strike sometimes!

I love going over my life..... people I've met & loved & sometimes lost… things I've done & seen & said.....I think I’ve emerged stronger and wiser through all of it.

So, recently when my friend ThoughtWarp mused over “What it is that we hold on to?”, I had so many answers. Moments that are with you all the time, moments that lie in the back of your mind; forgotten moments that are relived and relished when you see an old photo, talk to an old friend, maybe read an old post???

I totally agree that it isn’t possible to “capture” life in its entirety. But I think its worth the effort to hold every precious moment possible, especially when you’re faced with change….and life as you know it will never be the same.

Thanks to the Romance Novel

My favourite genre of fiction is romance - contemporary, historical, 'paranormal'.....doesn't matter, I love them all. I've been reading romances for nearly 10 years now and the attraction still hasn't waned. Some might snidely & cynically dismiss it to getting cheap thrills, but no, that's not it. I'm basically a sentimental, romantic fool at heart, forced to adopt a practical facade to survive this world. So in those moments when there's no one to be practical for, I like to indulge the fool.

Giving in to the "practical" requests of some, I have, on occasion, tried to "elevate" my reading preferences. I once forced myself to read a V. S. Naipaul - a book so unmemorable that I have forgotten its name. Other brushes with "literature" (namely, Nathaniel Hawthorne's 'The House of Seven Gables' and Daphne du Maurier's 'Rebecca' and 'The Scapegoat' ) were not so bad. I wouldn't rave about these books, because at the end, I was left oddly unsettled, melancholy even. Then again, to be great, art should evoke some emotion in the recipient, even if the emotion is less than positive.

Therein, I suppose, lies one of the reasons I continue to stand by romance novels. Who couldn't help but feel positive after a happy ending? But why I am truly thankful to romance novels, is for all the interesting snippets of information I've gained over the years: food habits, social practices, arts, languages, geographical & historical facts......worlds now and past have been opened for me.

However, what led to this post is something I read last night in a historical romance. One of the characters quoted a couplet that quite literally, made my heart jolt.

"All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, 'Whatever is, is right.'"

The source? Essay on Man (Epistle 1) by Alexander Pope. I would never have read Pope's work just based on the fact that he's one of the greats (in fact, I once began reading Rape of the Lock, but didn't feel compelled to continue), but this, this was just divine and I had to read it all. So, my sincere thanks to Martine Berne (author of the historical romance) for including these lines, and to that supreme, unseen force that directed me to this book.

The Enigma of War

When one thinks of war, the images typically evoked are those of camouflaged soldiers, bloodied or burnt bodies, the flash of gunfire, devasted lands, skies greyed by dust and smoke. Those of us blessed enough to never have witnessed any of this firsthand can imagine these visuals thanks to the media & the moviemakers. But this frontline combat and its horrifying consequences are not the start and finish of any war.

I recently watched a movie called Enigma, based on a book by Robert Harris, starring Dougray Scott and Kate Winslet. Set in the UK's codebreaking center during WWII, its basically about how Scott (the genius codebreaker) has to redecipher Nazi radio transmissions during a radio blackout to prevent the biggest attack on a convoy of Allied ships in the Atlantic, and track down a traitor among his colleagues.

Through the course of the film, the tedious aspects of codebreaking are brought out well. In the absence of today's technological ability, much of the information-gathering & mundane work, like listening to radio transmissions, recording them, filing them were performed by women. I especially liked one scene, where Scott visits a place manned by headphone-wearing women, whose only job is listening to radio transmissions (an endless variety of Morse beeps); one woman pulls off her headphones and asks Scott if they truly are making sense of all these beeps. She says something like, "Our war is only this, beep beep beep." All she wants is a reassurance that their endless hours, days & months of listening to beeps is helping.

The film later moves to a juncture where the codebreaking team realises that the Nazis will only start transmitting once the Allied convoy is within range of their missiles, meaning they cannot prevent the attack, only control its extent. The tensions between the codebreakers and the naval officer in charge come to the fore, despite being on the same side. The codebreakers know that lives will have to be sacrificed for them to gain the necessary number of transmissions to crack the code; the naval officer, himself a survivor of a similar battle, thinks only to minimise the deaths.

Among the film's subplots is a storyline incorporating the horrifying Katyn Massacre - Stalin's brutal killing of thousands of Polish citizens during Russia's invasion of Poland in 1939-40 (a fact that Russia denied till 1990). Scott's character is stunned on learning about this massacre, and even more horrified on realising that his government knows about it, but has chosen not to do anything because they needed Russia's might to stave off the Nazis.

Technically, Engima is an average film. The story has many subplots and demands complete concentration to understand, so I wouldn't recommend it for a leisurely watch. Its not a movie you can enjoy, but I appreciate the effort behind it because it makes you realise the many levels on which wars are fought and that the men and women on the frontline are not the only soldiers, the only heroes. But perhaps the strongest realisation for me was the sheer impossibility of the moral dilemmas thrust on decision-makers. How much will you sacrifice to protect "the greater good"?

Another turn....

....in the path of my life. I've started work - my first job in the UAE, and the second overall - in an area that, as recently as a year ago, I never thought I'd work in. Then my dissertation happened and changed my professional focus. I'm a long way off from realising any of what I 'disserted' about, but I've taken that crucial first step. Admittedly, its not as big a step as I'd hoped, but its still something. I'm on the inside now......

Sensory Overload

At the beginning of the year, I'd made a small wish. I had no idea it would be answered so soon and so spectacularly well. June 2007 passed by in a whirlwind of new sights, and I'm still recovering from the onslaught. I knew the package tour way of seeing a new place would be hectic, and of course, everyone knows that Europe is gorgeous, but still nothing prepared me for the.......sheer magnificence of the place.

Where do I begin to describe it all? The rolling green meadows, flowers and trees the likes of which I never knew existed (trees with purple and pink leaves - not the ornamental plants you see around, but trees .....how stunning they were!), majestic snow-capped mountains, wisps of mist floating among those mountains, rivers & lakes in all shades of blue including this unbelievable glistening turquoise (apparently due to calcites, I was told).....and God, even the clouds......I have never seen such generous puffs of fluffy white cloud before. No wonder this continent produced the best-known artists in the world.

The architecture, sculptures, mosaics and paintings are yet another unending delight for the senses. You see it all in pictures, in movies, in magazines, so it isn't as if its a brand new experience......yet none of these things can prepare you for the actual sights themselves. The awesome size of the buildings is the first thing that astounds, then as you get closer, the intricacies of the carvings and embellishments spread over these enormous structures just leaves you gasping.

I went crazy clicking photographs, trying to capture some part of this wealth of beauty for memory, but it ceased temporarily when I was inside St. Peter's in the Vatican. This place is an absolute explosion of art.....I'd start to click one sculpture, move ahead and see another one that was even more spectacular. Then I happened to look up towards the ceiling, and was lost completely. I don't have the words to do it justice so I'm not even trying. I just gave up clicking snaps and walked around, alternating my stares between walls and ceilings. If its the last thing I do, I'm going back to this place.

Here, and to the Louvre. We had just one brief hour of free time in Paris on the last day of the tour. My family was more interested in window-shopping; me, I just wanted a look at one of the most mysterious women of all time. I had a simple game plan: buy admission tickets, dart in, see the Mona Lisa, dart back out. The moment I saw the first painting in the Italian section, however, I was lost again......dazed, actually. Wide-eyed, slack-jawed I was slooowwly moving from painting to painting, when my dear mum had enough. I had to be dragged through, coz I just couldn't hurry up on my own. I sort of came to when we reached the Mona Lisa. Its only when you see other great paintings and then look at this one, do you appreciate da Vinci's sheer brilliance. There were so many other paintings I'd noticed that dwarf this one, have more vivid colours and subjects in more animated positions, but somehow lack the delicacy and the finesse with which the Mona Lisa has been rendered. I made a promise here too......that I'd come back someday, and do full justice to the Louvre.

For now, its back to editing the 2000-odd photos I took......some of the better ones will make their way here.

So many places, so little time

This is going to be the theme of this trip, especially starting today when we join the tour. I've spent four days in England so far, and I wish I had more time....time to wander around these quaint little towns and bustling cities, time to really absorb the sights (of which there is no shortage). But since that's not to be, I'm doing the best to stay alert despite a hectic schedule, and take in all that I can. There's soooooo much to write about....the places, the people.....but more on all of it later.

Tourope....

Well, gosh, where do I start? Soooooo much has happened since my last post.

Finished my dissertation......yay!!!!!

Better yet, I'm blogging from England!!!!!! We're celebrating various things with a vacation to Europe & today is the first day!

Landed in London & it was like a mini-Mumbai reunion......ran into some old neighbours here at Heathrow of all places.......the world is getting smaller!!!!!

Driving to my relatives placé, I got my first glimpse of the UK......I couldn't help but feel how much it looked like some of the roads back home....surprising, but true.

Now, I set off to explore the surrounding areas......its 7 pm & we still have another hour & half of sunlight to go......how cool, or rather hot, is that!

Melinda Do-lots!!!

Oh I'm so deeply disappointed that Melinda Doolittle didn't make it into the final of American Idol. But at the same time, I can't say that I'm all that surprised coz somewhere down the line, the show has morphed into a personality contest. Not that the other contestants are bad, no, but hell, they're just nowhere near Melinda.

This lady is pure magic. When she performs, she doesn't just sing the song....she lives it. She understands the emotion in the lyrics and totally brings it to life. Where she took a beating I guess, is in the 'it' factor. She's not bubbly & chirpy & all that hip (which is what the voters seem to be going for), but she's still got a wonderful personality - she's calm, dignified, funny and most importantly, she's humble. That is what appealed to me most. She has a rare and precious voice that's almost divine, yet she's not arrogant about it, as so many with so little talent are.

I've no doubt that she'll go on to do very well for herself....she's already charmed cynical Cowell with both voice & personality, and won a set of discerning fans, self included. I wish her the very best, and hope she doesn't lose that all-important humility.

The Secret of Santa Victoria

This is an old English movie starring Anthony Quinn.....pretty obscure actually, its not on any "classic" lists, but its one of my favourites. Dad got the cassette decades ago and I first saw it as a kid. That's one of the reasons I think the movie means so much to me....it takes me back to my childhood.

Moving on, the film is set in WWII Italy -- the town of Santa Victoria to be specifc -- in the days after the fall of Fascism, when the Nazis entered Italy. Santa Victoria is a typical little Italian town whose livelihood, and indeed life, rests on wine-making. Wine is not just something they produce, its in their blood. For some, this is literally true; for example: Quinn's character Bombolini (notice the similarity with "bumble"), quite an apt name considering he's the town clown and drunkard.

After the fall of the fascist regime, the townspeople overthrow the local fascist government that had made their lives hell, and are looking for a new leadership. In the meanwhile, there is another commotion -- Bombolini has climbed a tall water tank and is attempting to paint off an existing painted sign "Long live Mussolini" (a sign that he painted on in the first place!), all while holding a bottle of his beloved wine and being dead drunk, as the townspeople look on, terrified that he'll fall.

For Hindi film buffs, if the water tank, drunk man, bottle of booze and nervous crowd ring a bell, its with good reason .....this is the scene that inspired one of Hindi cinema's most iconic moments -- Dharmendra's "chakki peesing" in Sholay. Getting back to Santa Victoria, after all the drama, Bombolini paints over the sign with the help of a friend and makes it down safely....into the welcoming arms of the crowd who now see the buffoon as a hero. In a fit of collective patriotism (and drunkeness!), he assumes mayorship of the town.....a role, that when sobriety returns, nobody thinks he can fulfil. But determined to make a success of himself, he cleans up and organizes a town council of sorts.

Things move on at a slow small-town pace, till the town's only college student returns abruptly with horrifying news: the Nazis are coming to take all the wine! What follows is a story of how a town where "everybody hates everybody else" unites to save what is rightfully its own, what is most precious to it, and a story of how a drunken buffoon transforms into a leader. There are a mix of smaller love stories interspersed, including how Bombolini regains his long-suffering wife Rosa's respect.

Funny, cynical, serious, sensuous, in parts.....but inspirational overall.....a wonderful film, with equally wonderful performances. The cassette I have is showing its age, so we've been on the lookout for the DVD, but its been hard to find. I may well have to pay a bomb when I do find it, but it'll be totally worth it.

My Floral Inspiration

This post was inspired by a comment left on another Bombay-lover's Bombay musings. The comment author was not a Bombay fan because s/he believed Bal Thackeray to be the city's biggest icon. S/he is of course entitled to her / his opinion, but I beg to differ. My instant reaction was yeah Mr. T is one of the city's icons, but is he the only one? Definitely not.

So who or what are the city's icons? Are they only the rich and famous, or the rich and infamous? Only the most popular places and things? Of course, all of these are iconic, but they're not the only ones. An icon could be any symbol, any person that represents a significant meaning to someone. S/he or it need not be well-known, need not be known to anyone other than you for that matter, but it could still mean a helluva lot to you....still convey something that maybe only you understand.

For me, there is one image that I remember very vividly. Its one of those things that I’d seen daily while traveling in the train but never paid attention to. Yet on that one particular day as I looked out at the same old scene zipping by, this image just stood out – a patch of flowers growing tall amid sewage. Tall stems and bright red and yellow blooms. You see them growing all over, even in gardens. I was just struck by their beauty and how glorious they looked, despite being surrounded by so much filth.

A lot of people talk about Bombay’s stark contrasts, which are of course undisputable. To me, those flowers represent that contrast – that you can have goodness, beauty and growth no matter how terrible your situation or your surroundings. More than being iconic, for me they are inspirational.

1 Year On...

....since leaving Bombay. I remember trying to be positive last year, even as gloom threatened to choke me. It was the biggest change of my life and I was not sure at all that it was a good thing. But today I know... it was good. In fact, it was necessary. Necessary for me to find myself, find my purpose. But despite it being a good thing, and me being happy, I'm feeling nostalgic... a little homesick. It doesn't hurt the way it used to, but it still can sure yank at those heartstrings.

So what do I miss the most?

- the sights ..... gulmohar trees, the flowers that bloomed among sewage, Diwali fireworks, the Mid-day logo, Imax, my old colleges, my church, VT station, the hideous dome over the VT subway, Marine Drive, Bandstand, Mount Mary, Siddhivinayak, all the roads in and around what we call "town", all the roads around my home....and my beautiful home.

- the sounds .... BEST bus horns, the million gaalis that form part of any commuting experience, Nashik dhol during Ganesh Chaturthi, dandiya beats during Navratri, church bells.

- the flavours .... crisp ghee sada dosa (nobody in the UAE does it like its done in Bombay), sinful Cheese dosa (nobody here seems to have heard of it!), bhel, wada pav, samosas, my old college canteen ka veg schezwan noodles (the best I've ever had), murg shifta at Ivy in between Chembur & Ghatkopar (I almost cried the first time I had this kabab....it was that divine), all the mithais (they use some freaky milk powder for sweets here & it makes me want to puke), the kababwallah's kababs near my house (er....the kababs that he makes, rather!!!), frankies (veg, chicken...doesn't matter....its all good), chole bhature, puri bhaji....God, this list can go on!!!

- the fragrances ..... some pleasant, some sure as hell anything but pleasant..... but they're all part of Bombay.

- and lastly, but most importantly, the people. Whoever said 'the people make the place' got it spot on. I'm luckier than most to be with my family here, but even as a family....we get lonely. For me, it isn't just that I miss my friends (and I do, from the bottom of my heart I do), I miss the million acquaintances....the people you've seen almost every other day, the faces you've grown up with. In the course of a typical day, you may just wave when you see them, may not even chat for 5 minutes.....but the point is that they're there. Its amazing how you take those familiar faces for granted...how you don't realize how big a part of your world they are.... till you're taken out of that world. It only hit me when I came here..... in this city, where life is so transient, where people keep coming and going, where they are much more wrapped up in their own lives, the worth of that wave hit me. Sure, its a seemingly insignificant gesture, but its the subconscious feeling behind it that matters and that so many of us don't recognize. The spirit, that when push comes to shove -- be it during the bomb blasts, the 26th July floods or any other major or minor crisis -- that unites Mumbaikars....that underlying sense of apnaapan. That's what I miss the most.

Revelation!

Courtesy of Mr. Edward T. Hall, cultural anthropologist extraordinaire (whose work I've quoted here before), I've had yet another amazing insight... not only into the fields and the people that study the human mind & human relationships, but an insight into my own mind.
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In his simple, clear-cut flow of writing, he says that we grow up, learn and continue to use things like TVs and cars throughout our lives, yet most of us have no clue about electronics or mechanics.....we can't describe how a TV or a car actually works. Similarly, we grow up and live our whole lives in a particular culture(s), yet most of us have no clue about how that culture works....how it affects us and how we affect it. And in many ways, culture is far more complex than electronics or mechanics.
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I've never looked at my cultural sensitivities and abilities like that.

Extension Transference

Another one of the interesting ideas from what is turning out to be the best book I've read in the past few months - Beyond Culture by Edward T. Hall.

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Hall refers to things like language, tools, instruments etc. as 'extensions' -- things that humans used to overcome their physical limitations, and thereby evolve more radically than any other species. These extensions have many fascinating characteristics......over the millennia, most have grown to become separate entities in themselves, with their own bodies of knowledge and skills to be learnt.

But because extensions can take on a life of their own, they are also confused with the process that was originally extended. He calls this confusion 'Extension Transference'. And one of the most complex system of extensions which is often subjected to transference, is culture. Culture is experienced as man and vice versa. Further, man is frequently seen as a pale reflection of his culture or as a shoddy version that never quite measures up, and man’s basic humanness is frequently overlooked or repressed in the process

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Equifinality

All the stress and nightmares aside, I really am grateful for my dissertation process. Its led me to discover fascinating impressions and expressions, and has literally opened up my eyes, not only to the world outside, but the world inside me. Inside my mind, to be more specific! Now on, I'm going to post some of these ideas and thoughts that truly got me thinking.

From Tony Morden's Principles of Management:

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Equifinality

Is the idea that "similar ends can be achieved from different paths and from different starting points, for instance depending on the character of the conditions or contingencies prevailing in the external environment"
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How true this is of life.

I am plodding on through the process of completing my dissertation and its very easy to buckle under the more-than-healthy amounts of stress. Its even more easy to forget that there is a lot, in fact everything, in my life to be humbly grateful for...

...that I can devote all my time and attention to completing my education without having to work simultaneously;

...that I have a family giving me all the moral support and encouragement I need;

...that I have come into contact with knowledge and ideas that amaze and fascinate me;

...that I may have found the direction, the purpose of my professional life;

...that I just have the chance to learn.

That is what this is about. For the past few months, I've been living and breathing my dissertation. There have been times, like now, when I've felt like I'm submerged in a tube full of water and am struggling to get to the surface.... and every time I start to get close and see light, someone dumps more water into the tube and I go further down.

Its very easy in this process, to let your ego get totally carried away and feel like what you're doing will usher in the next Renaissance. What I need to remind myself is, like one wise man advising millions of students like me said, I don't have the responsibility of changing the whole world on my shoulders. This is a learning process for me. I need to be humble, I need to accept that neither I, nor minds far greater than mine, have found the answer. Its impossible in a subject like mine. I need to do my best, and just leave the rest....

G'bye Christmas Tree

This morning we took down our Christmas tree.....about two months later than most people (or maybe nearly everyone) did. Why? Because I wanted to have at least one birthday with the Christmas tree around. So I turned another year older a few days ago, baked a sexy chocolate cake, and had photos clicked of me hugging the tree.

I guess the basic reason why I wanted the tree to remain stems from sibling rivalry. My sis was born two days before Christmas, so she's always had the tree during her birthday. It wouldn't have been practical to leave the tree up that long in Bombay. But here..... central air-conditioning = relatively dust-free environment = no worries about the tree getting messed up = Shalom can have the Christmas tree till her birthday!