Author: binny22

An active blogger, a debutant Novelist , a passionate poet who loves to travel is what could sum me up. I love the internet and all that is connected to computers. I love to explore new areas of knowledge though I may not accept every piece of information.

The fairy glade

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Third day in the same forest. It would get monotonous now…

Hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood and skin as white as snow! Surrounded by little men, she walked 
like an elegant deer with her neck held high, letting the wind kiss her face. She was no Snow White with her 
seven dwarves, she was just a kindergarten teacher with her charge of two year olds!


The little children, all clad in waterproof overalls and equipped with a pail and spade instead of pick axes, 
stamped in all the available muddy puddles. Some of them knelt in the mud and scooped up the wet clay into their buckets and carried them to their building site to build a castle. ( The Germans start as engineers from an early age!) good thing the mothers were not around- surf or no surf the mess these tiny tots made would turn any hausfrau’s heart!
I stopped for a moment ( for I had time to stand and stare) and greedily took in the video of unfettered joy into 
my subconscious. They looked at me curiously. The boldest of them walked up to me, wiped his hand on a little towel tucked in his pocket and put it out towards me. To say I was thrilled would be an understatement! My heart turned a somersault and I picked up the still dirty hand without hesitation. He talked to me in a burst of  
speech and I spoke back as if I understood everything! Then Snow White came to my rescue and spoke to me in English.


I learnt how she rescued these kids everyday from 
their harassed working mothers, to let them feel the joy of freedom and allowed them to do what every child wants to do. Soon they would go back to the school and get cleaned up and be presented to their 
mothers, scrubbed and clean as little angels. A little drowsy and with less energy so that the mums would  have time to recuperate to face another busy day at  home. 


It was time to say “Auf wiedersehen” and I continued on my walk with the picture of the little ones and 
Snow White ( her name was Anke by the way) etched in my memory. 
The woods were dark and deep. The promise of 
sunshine in the morning was fading fast. I had lost some time playing with the children so I increased my pace and followed a new road. This was away from the main road. Soon I was deep inside the forest. The 
tall trees with their leafless branches brooded over me but they were like kindly guardians rather than menacing devils. Spring was trying hard to make its presence felt . The dry stalks were pushing forth green leaf buds, the tiny grass flowers were nodding at me and though I could find no birds around, there were lovely man made bird houses hung high on the trees ( I wonder how they reached so high on the slim trunks!) 


I walked with my head up at the sky, looking up at the interweaving arms of the branches. Occasionally a biker 
or a jogger would pass by, but they were in their own world and only the swish of the tires or the thump of the  running feet would warn me that there was someone behind me. The absolute silence was so therapeutic that I pondered on the possibility of just sitting down on the  fallen tree trunk to soak in the ambience. 

The road was never ending and I had to decided on a point to turn back. Every step I took forward, brought me 
into a microcosm of a new world- complete and perfect! My greedy parched heart did not want to miss out on any experience so I walked on.

Suddenly a shaft of sunlight cut through the darkness of the woods and streamed on a clearing in the forest. There were two beautiful black trees covered with white blossoms. The whole area was filled with dark green moss which were sprinkled with the fallen white flowers. A few magpies with their tails up in the area trilled their songs. My God! What a setting it was! I wished I was Rapunzel sleeping under the tree, letting the soft 
flowers caress me as I listened to the songs of the birds, maybe I would weave the flowers into my long hair! I wished there were a few rabbits peeping from their burrows to complete this picture of my fairy’s glade.

My walk was now complete, the almighty had given me a perfect gift to take back for the day. It was time for 
me to go back. I took in great gulps of air as if to save this wonderful picture in my hard drive. I literally spent five complete minutes to grasp at this experience and turned back with a satiated heart and energised mind, to a life now so filled with magic. It now started to drizzle….
We all need a little bit of the fairy tale and magic to spice up our monotonous lives. The important thing is for us to realise that it is always around us and it is in our hands to scour and dig and discover the enchantment!



A walk in the forest.


A late, lazy breakfast- going to and fro from the buffet table, asking for omelette without bacon, sipping coffee… In short a breakfast where I did not have to worry about the menu or it’s ingredients! Naturally this led to that full feeling. The sun was peeping through the clouds, “so why not?” Said the heart to the mind and I decided to prepone my walk at twelve to ten!   
 
                                               
Put on my waterproof coat (in case it rained!), scarf, boots… Some money and my cell phone (working one) in one pocket and my normal cell which doubles as my iPod in the other with my headphones in the other pocket. Took my gloves too and walked out of the warm confines of the Hotel into the street.


The cold blast hit my face and even with my glasses to protect my eyes, they started watering!Bracing myself with bullish body language I proceeded towards the road which would lead me to the Eilenriede forest. Two days ago I had been there and found it lovely. We had discovered a cafe which served gluhwein .I had been with Junu and hadn’t actually mapped out the area in my mind. Anyway I thought I would walk till the forest cafe, treat myself ,sit for sometime and then walk back.

I waited at the traffic lights even though the road was empty! How impatient we are when we are at home to jump lights! Sigh! Crossed when it turned green took a picture of the majestic stag before I entered the forest. Right at the beginning, there was a fork in the path and I, like Frost took the road least travelled on. The head phones were squished into my ears, the music loop was selected and away I went. 

There were a few mothers with prams, a couple of joggers, a group of kindergarten children with their teacher splashing into all the puddles and one single beautifully dressed woman in high boots! She looked at me suspiciously and purposely walked slowly so that I would overtake her! I did and smiled at her in amusement which she returned with a grim smile. I traipsed deeper into the forest. Two policemen ( one was a woman) rode by on a pair of magnificent horses, talking nineteen to a dozen without paying any attention to me! Soon I was absolutely alone, I couldn’t even hear the cars anymore.. If you wanted to define blithe, you should have taken a picture of me today!

The sun was warm on my cheeks, the wind had died down and I had left civilization far behind me. The green trunked trees with their leafless branches enticed me to go forward. The little yellow, pink and white grass flowers that bedded the foot of these large deciduous trees reminded me of all the fairy tales that I had read. The only thing missing to complete the picture was the mushroom and toadstool!

I walked on. The meandering roads, the birds chirping, and the rustle of the dry leaves and scrunch of the wet leaves were my only companions. I must have walked for about forty minutes by now when I came near a dry stream way with a small wooden bridge, I tried to wrack my brains on whether I had seen this before. I decide to turn back and was met with too many forks on the road and I obviously took the wrong one! And loitered about in unknown areas. Chiqui had warned me about getting lost like Hansel and Gretel the night before… Was I lost? 



The sun hid behind a cloud, the rolling clouds brought with them wind! The wind had picked up speed, the cruel and cold thing was whipping against my legs. The nose was frozen by now, I picked up my walking speed. I wasn’t exactly panicking but I was definitely worried. I shut off the music to think clearly…. I must find a main road then it’s simple …just take a taxi back to the hotel or I could phone up hubby dearest at the office and tell him I am lost in the forest and get a search party organised! But both these would smack of the failure badge so I trudged on. It was getting overcast by now, the rain was imminent and the wind had started a plaintive whine in my ears. I picked up speed. The heart was beating faster. I took off my gloves as I was feeling  hot and dropped one of them too. Did not realise it for five minutes then walked back to pick it up!

There was a lovely wooden bench, I took a deep breath and sat down on it. It was now an hour after I had left. I had told Mickey I would be back in two hours so she wouldn’t be expecting me now. I took deep calming breaths and took stock. Direction wise I was pretty sure that I was in the right direction for getting back I looked desperately for any kind of landmarks but there were only tall trees everywhere!

I gave myself fifteen minutes to walk on and if I couldn’t find any signs I would use the phone. The jauntiness of my past one hour was missing as I plodded on determinedly ahead. Within five minutes I sighted a car and a main road. I felt secure, civilisation was back! I walked on …. In ten minutes I espied the entrance to the zoo and now I knew  I was on the right track ( I had taken a whole round of the huge forest!) . The heart rate was now normal and all though it was dark, I was no longer feeling hot ! I walked ahead and saw a ramp I had noticed the day before and soon the statue of beloved stag came into view and hey presto! Like magic, I was on home stretch 🙂

Those ninety minutes of my life was a small microcosm of an entire lifetime. The joy, happiness, fear and insecurity and myriad other emotions that flitted across my conscious and subconscious taught me to value every precious moment of my life. From now on I hope I am able to treat every obstacle in my life as trivial and I hope to convince my self that there is nothing such as the end of the world. I hope to go for many more such walks in my life and come out triumphant and happy.


Pause, before Valentine’s Day!


Yesterday in the newspaper, I read John McWhorter say, that it was time for the ubiquitous “Comma” to be interred! According to him there is no loss of clarity if the wee thing is murdered and buried without a befitting burial! Rage engulfed me- remembering the- ifs and buts of the use of comma that we learnt painstakingly from first grade onwards, Oh! Alas! The futile toil of almost seventeen years of formal education and even beyond!
 I am a lover of English language, not because it’s smart but because that’s the only language I know completely (as it possibly as can be). It is of course a vicious circle- I love it because I know it, I know it as I love it! It is ever engulfing, though its rules are rather atrocious, it is fluid and accepting. Over its long history, plenty of words have been welcomed and accepted by it. It will remain the language of the future and will not go the Latin or Sanskrit way. I love it as it allows me to converse with the rest of the world, albeit sometimes using my kind of sign language (which is largely gesticulating!) along with it, but I get by….
Mr. Pico Iyer has given a very interesting view about his love for the comma- he seems to be in love with it as much I am. So the poor cousin of “full stop” does have its share of fans in the world. Where would I be without its little pregnant pauses to give meaning to my private poems? Where would I be without its meaningful breaks to thrust forward my pugnacious arguments? Where would I be without its loud silences to take a break from my stream of consciousness?
I quite agree with him that putting the comma into an early grave will take out the romance and love from the English language. SMS and Tweets are all right in that sphere of activity but in the serious and the not so serious facets of the world, we need the softness of the “Comma” pause as opposed to the harsh “full stop”!

All this ‘love’ and ‘romance’ and softness have brought to my mind Valentine’s Day. It has been festering actually for the last one week! I get at least thirty SMS from various brands about what I can gift my Valentine, about the ‘50% off ‘and sometimes ‘up to 75% off ‘on select merchandise, and not to forget the ways to send hints to my valentine for gifting ideas.
I think the first mention of this highly amorous day, in literature, was made in the fourteenth century by the father of English language Geoffrey Chaucer (Parlement of Foules -1382). It, of course, has its own little cameo in history and dates further down the line. I firmly believe it was fished out of the darkness of obscurity by the “Archie’s Greetings” as a major marketing ploy to distract the youth from their education and make their parents pay for all the vulgarly expensive gifts. How else can you explain the various “days” that are celebrated prior to the main day? The rose day, the hug day, the teddy day, the kiss day and ……..Each day has its share of cards and gifts to be bought.
The young people who are not at the receiving end are looked upon with pity and horror by the others. They go through acute depression and pangs of rejection. (Some parents are so scared that they send cards to their own children as secret admirers!) Numbers of suicide and murder cases are high during the week prior and after the ultimate day. The only positive thing about this is, hopefully it distracts the youth from indulging in marijuana (Which has been made legal in Colorado State!) and other such “elevating” experiences.

I feel a little apprehensive of the present generation. When we grew up, our crushes were private affairs. It’s not that there wasn’t romance; it was as present as it is now, only it was subtle and much more exciting (I wonder if each generation says that about their youth?) I do wonder what the excitement is in necking in public. The little exchange of glances can create a flutter in one’s heart. I do understand the high rate of divorce these days- the couples just get bored of each other. They know each other for five to six years before they marry and after that ennui sets in and it is time to part ways.
The youth argue that they are much more honest in their relationships then we were, but is that accurate and is that advisable? Romance is synonymous with mystery, if we know the ins and outs of another human being, what is the challenge to continue such an interaction? As human beings it is natural we search for new experiences, new discoveries to keep our intellects alive. The game of relationships is an interesting and time consuming activity. It is what separates us from animals.
Love is a wonderful emotion; it’s not fair to commercialize it. Valentine’s Day or a little note to be passed during class- let us keep it on the right level; let us not put a price on a beautiful emotion and inculcate the spirit of competition in every field of our lives. Some emotions are sacred, calming, serene and healing; let us take out the knives and forks from here as there is a possibility of getting hurt.
Both the “Comma” and “Valentine’s Day” celebrate fidelity in their work sphere, one to language and one to love. Both bring a pause to their work stations in their own way. The comma gives meaning and depth to the pause, while V day suspends our minds for at least ten days. One enhances the fluid dynamics of language; the other creates questions and doubts about the devotion of our partners. Do not inter either of them, they are both necessary to our existence and bring in the spice to an otherwise humdrum and bland life.

                                                                                                          

Cacophonic Neighbors

It all started with some taps on the roof and the whirring of the drill in the upstairs flat.
We had spent one year in harmony with all our upstairs and downstairs flat occupants when our quiet neighbors vacated the flat above and went forward in their own quest to excellence. We were friendly, had visited each other’s houses once and greeted each other with a ‘hi’ in the lift whenever we met. I did miss them but their absence did not stop the cog wheels of my life from moving. They had travelled a lot and so had I, so out of the twelve months, we must have occupied our respective houses for three months at a stretch. Nevertheless we shared a maid and I knew what was happening in their house and they would know what happened in mine!
Their absence was mourned by our maid in every conversation but life went on as quietly as before, for six months. Then just before the winter vacation I was informed that some new tenants had moved in, two unmarried sisters not in their first youth! They were “Directors” – so said my maid. I did not worry- what would two middle aged female bachelors do, anyway?
The sound of the taps grew a little louder over the week. I started seeing nuts and bolts on the ceiling and small hairline cracks appearing from nowhere! Then the deluge started, the balcony would be washed and all the water, following the law of gravity would fall into mine and I would have a short circuit in my mind and yell at the poor guards. It worked for some time; the washing was done stealthily during the afternoon when I had my nap!

Then came Friday! There was lot of activity- high heels tap tapping here, there and everywhere, lots of car parked outside the building and the blaring music began at seven in the evening. I thought indulgently – House warming party- shut all the doors (thankfully it was cool) and bore through all the drums, bass and altos! Put on the fan and ac full blast to drown out the noise and fell asleep.

It’s not “all’s well that ends well here”! The same thing happened next Friday but we were leaving on our vacation the next day so I did not bother to get too paranoid. After a long lovely vacation (I am sure you will forgive me for having forgotten the “sound blasting” neighbors) I returned to the humdrum of daily existence and soon a Friday came and with it our partying friend’s out of tune songs! Then one more Friday and then we were given a reprieve of two weeks and then………

It was Tuesday, suddenly gushes of water fell outside the bathroom window but I ignored it. The moving of furniture started at about two in the afternoon. I did not pay much attention as it was a Tuesday. The day went on with the usual chores and being a cool night we had all the doors closed.
“Boom! Boom!” it started softly, but the tempo picked up, soon the whole house was vibrating with “musical noise”. It was eleven O’clock in the night! We went to bed but the clip clop of high heels coupled with furniture dragging and other strange noises made me feel that we were sleeping under a road on which horse carriages were being drawn (intermittent neighs of laughter and bellows of mirth punctured the night!)
It went from bad to worse! Normally a sound sleeper, I was wide awake and every time the beats beat the roof, my heart rate touched hundred! Irritation led to indignation to anger and then fury and I was at my wits end! I waited till twelve thirty but there was no easing of all the cacophony going on upstairs.
Furious I rang up the guard to tell them to stop it. He, poor thing, was apologetic and said he would inform them. It took another half an hour before the bass disappeared but the clip clops and the out of tune singing by varied male voices continued. It was two thirty in the night and the guys continued to sing at their worst- obviously drunk and inebriated.
The rule is, there can be no public noise after ten or eleven in the night. Even the pandals during Ganesh puja go silent but what about private houses? What rule is there for such nuisances where a few families or one family is affected?
Mumbai is no stranger to noise. We are bombarded throughout the day with noise from the traffic and construction work, the least anyone can do is to leave us in peace during the night! Once in a while to celebrate something is OK, we are indulgent but every weekend is a little too much! Lots of criminal intentions were going through my mind as I stomped about wide awake! Is this how crimes take shape?
Will someone advise me who to contact to stop such nuisance? I do understand that we cannot stop someone from doing whatever they want in their own house but there is something called social responsibility and I hope this stops before I go nuts and blast them both verbally and physically!

I miss my old neighbors now L. How sad that we cannot choose our neighbors!

The Global Positioning Story

“Have you ever used GPS in your car before?” asked the ever smiling young man at the car rental kiosk.
While the lord and master hummed and hawed, I, very confidently said, “we’ll learn”.
All of us in the family have used the GPS at one time or the other on our phones. I was sure we would work it out. Confidently we strode out and began our road trip.
The GPS on the phone is one thing and on the car is another, we soon found out! The car does not have a keypad to type in the destination; it has to be done one by one. It has a menu which is confusing and every time you make a mistake you start all over again!
Our first destination was the zoo and the kind helper at the kiosk came and taught us how to feed in the information and soon we were on the move.
Well! We reached some place but the zoo was nowhere in sight, helplessly we looked at the family IT guy, the TT*! She didn’t disappoint us. Out zipped her phone and we were instructed how to reach the car park of the zoo. Turned out that the fellow had fed in the area, not the exact location of the zoo! – First lesson learned.

Soon TT got the hang of the car GPS and she was officially nominated to handle it. She had the patience and knack of managing it. Of course she threw a tantrum anytime we interfered during the process but on the whole it was a convenient method. The young adult of the family tried her hand but was too bored to do it over and over again. We both, though not exactly technically challenged were happy to hand over the reins to the youngest in the family.

“Please move over to the left after hundred meters”, said Siri (We christened the GPS voice as Siri as that is only name we know from our Apple products!) The accent was perfect for our Indian ears and she was a big help especially on our drives on the Autobahn. It was so simple to take the exit as she would warn us at least a kilometer in advance. If you took a wrong exit she would help you reroute and find your way back!
She took us to our hotels with precision and her predicted time was perfect. We were warned in advance about possible delays on the way because of traffic congestion or repair work on the road. She really was our guardian angel on the road.
But what happens when we were not in the car? This happened quite often as we were walking the rest of the time; looking at churches, castles or just browsing. As our stomachs grumbled at the lack of nutrition where would we find our restaurant of choice? This is when our TT came to the rescue with her Siri. Her ever present phone would be asked in a pseudo American accent where the nearest Indian restaurant was and we would be given a few choices in the vicinity! Not only that we would also be given ratings of each of the restaurants. Our decisions were based on how hungry we were (the closest one maybe 0.8 km) and if we could hold on, the 1 km one, if it had better ratings. Though we mostly existed on sandwiches, pizzas and other Italian food we had regular cravings for Indian and Chinese food. Our dinners were when we would search for these restaurants! In Germany we have been to Agra, Jaipur and the Himalaya!

It was windy and cold when we checked into our hotel in Heidelberg. There were plenty of Mac Donald’s, Burger kings and Pizza joints close to the hotel but after a long drive and an ineffectual lunch we wanted Indian food. The aid of TT was enlisted and she swung into action! We followed her wherever she went, keeping her in view as she strode confidently with her phone in hand. We lagged a bit as we were not quick enough to cross the road at the right time!
The restaurant was supposed to be 0.8 km and we had been walking for at least 15 minutes when TT realized that her GPS was behaving funnily and she warned us. I was tired and hungry and immediately voted that we turn back and eat the ubiquitous Pizza or Zuppa whatever was available. But TT was not to be shaken and she found some other means and led us to Agra where we had a great Indian Dinner.
During the trip we discovered that our Car Siri was good but our human Siri was even better as she would take into account our human eccentricities! But the Car Siri never threw a fit; but what’s life without a bit of discord?
Thank humans for the GPS and thank God for our TT!
PS: An advice for Indians on the run – it’s best to avoid the Chinese restaurants in Europe- they do not cater to our palate!
 *TT- terrible teenager

Age filled Wisdom and Youthful Energy

“The Sixties are the new forties” screamed a headline and I with a lot of interest, poured into the fine print and read the whole article with a lot of curiosity in a very short time. It’s the time, they said, when we are at our most stable, both emotionally and financially (Why that makes it the forties is questionable!). What I understood at the end was that the human race is socially becoming younger- physically fitter, economically secure and emotionally stronger.
If we are to believe this, then what do the fifties mean? Does it mean it’s the new thirties? I am curious… the thirties for me was the busiest time, children growing up, financial constraints, managing limited resources and trying to save for the future! Yes I was physically fit and emotionally strong. The forties ushered in an era of relaxation. The usual stress of future, children and saving continues to play hide and seek but I am emotionally more mature and able to deal with them without breaking down (most of the time!)
As I inch towards the fifties, I wonder if I will go back to my thirties era where life was so busy that we never had time to take a laid back holiday. (Holidays were meticulously planned and executed!) Holidays were in fact another event in our activity filled lives. Now the children are almost grown up. In a couple of years they will be totally independent and living their own lives. Then what happens? After living a life of twenty five years of juggling finances, children, education, money, parents, time, resources… then what?

For the first time in my life I went for a holiday where I was mostly in charge with my newly turned adult offspring. Though I did not arrange for everything I still had the responsibility to execute the whole trip. I really was looking forward to the break and I had decided I was going to “chill out”. I would not follow any itinerary, would take one day at a time and let my muscles just relax and lose its tautness. My neurons just fall down limply and get entangled amongst each other and soothe my over active brain.
We reached my beautiful mountains. As I breathed in the clear mountain air of Kathmandu after the smog filled streets of Mumbai, I felt I was as close to heaven as possible. The drive to the resort was a disappointment- the roads were as jam packed as Mumbai with horrible roads and the air beyond the airport filled with dust of the million constructions that were happening in the city.

After twenty minutes of driving we entered the forest resort. It was another world by itself! Verdant and lush, the foliage of the trees were dust free and glistening like it had just rained a while ago. My lungs took in gulps of fresh mint tinged mountain air and I forgot all my disappointment of the city.
But our plans of “just relaxing” went for a toss! The mountain air tossed out the tiredness and we wanted to plan the stay and see as much as possible! In a trice we freshened up and went to the reception and planned out our days. The following days were filled with activities and allowing our senses take in the sight and sound of a new country. Though it was very similar to our culture, the pristine truth that is reflected in this mountain kingdom has been lost from our culture for centuries.
The highlights were our mountain flight and visit to the monasteries. The mountain flight took me as close to serenity, beauty and God as it will ever be possible. The Monasteries were another world all together!
The stupas which dot the kingdom still retain the peace and tranquility of all Buddhist teaching. The monasteries are beautifully decorated and the tonsured monks who inhabit them emit an aura of gentleness and knowledge that has to be seen to be believed. The bright red and orange robes are in direct contrast to the peace and tranquility of their countenance.
As I watched the elaborately dressed monks perform the rituals in front of the fire, I wondered what makes them tick. What does it take to give up all worldly pleasures and what convinces them to follow the hard life of a monk? What drives them to believe in age old rituals? Is it true that this life is only a stopgap period before we reach our maker and eternal bliss?
We might have a busier life in the fifties then our grandparents did but we are definitively not regressing towards our thirties as the article suggests. Why should I feel I am in my thirties? The ignorance and the hectic life is not what I look forward to. To be at peace with one’s body and mind is what age has taught us, why should I go through the whole process of acceptance again? I see young parents struggling to bring up their children, fighting for space and peace, struggling to outdo the others in their battle for survival… I am out of that now! The pleasures of parenting is wonderful- whatever the age of the child. Once a parent forever parents till you die!
Though my mind remains youthful (I am still curious, I still find pleasure in new things and I still to a certain extent understand the fads of the new generations) I know a part of me is discovering the ancient within me. Who knows by the time I am seventy I would have the wisdom of the monks.
The little monks who fight and debate through the day is what I would like to be…… Wisdom filled with age and youth filled with energy!

For your Hoarding pleasure!




“Madam!” screeched the maid.
I came running from my bedroom to find out what happened and saw the maid with a Bottle of toilet cleaner in her hand.
Seeing the panic on my face she giggled. The million scenarios which were fighting for space in my brain (from pigeon in the bathroom, to fire in the kitchen…..) twirled and whirled and slowly settled down like a dying tornado  I looked at her enquiringly…
“Madam, Harpic over” she said, gleefully dangling the empty bottle in front of my face…
Over the years that I have employed maids, one common factor in all of them (race, color, caste no bar!) is they are the happiest when something gets over and they would wait to pounce on me and underline my shoddy housekeeping!
Years back when I had just started my tryst with destiny, my first maid (her salary was the cost of a Cadbury’s chocolate now!) taught me a lot about housekeeping. Lakshmi was a slim trim mother of two who would come for an hour every morning and fifteen minutes in the evening and sweep and swab the floors, clean the few dishes and the clothes every day. She gave continuous lecture about how to manage the house, the finance and the main thing- store keeping. Every month two days before the washing powder or the cleaning powder got over she would warn me to get new supply. Those days money was tight and every rupee had to be counted and accounted for. A couple of times I had not bought the supplies because it was the end of the month. She would then start on a lecture of good housekeeping and how we must plan our resources. She was my first economics teacher!
Many maids have followed her but thanks to her I have never been caught unawares! When the supermarkets first invaded India, I went around with stars in my eyes! It was lovely to pile up my cart with all the stuff I wanted without waiting for the shopkeeper to serve me. I had choice of quantity, quality and price under my control (plus the attraction of selling goods below the MRP!) I had this little diary where I noted down all my expenses for the day and balanced it at the end of the day. (Now I do it on an Excel sheet- thanks to my husband!)Till today I have a column named JUNU where I place any amount that I cannot account for! This is very frequent!

But this was the beginning of a habit- that I always bought a little more than required so that I would never be caught empty handed by the maid! At first it was just washing and cleaning stuff, but slowly as our financial comfort increased I pushed it to all my monthly groceries and even spare clothes and continued to cosmetics and gifts! I started planning months in advance about what I would need after six months and bought them as if the super market or the store would move away soon. As the children came and grew another item was added to my list- stationary! The number of sketch pen sets, color pencils, just pencils, chart papers and decorative glue paint and what not piled up! Over ten years we moved from smaller to bigger houses and my fad for collecting things never diminished.
Of course I blamed everyone- the maids, the children, the husband, and the unexpected guests for my fetish. This hoarding paranoia grew on me like multiplying rabbits and before I knew it my house was always stuffed with everything in the world. Soon I started forgetting what I had and added on to it in my ignorance. I had forgotten one important lesson that Lakshmi had taught me that always keep an inventory of goods. Soon unopened cupboards started bursting at the seams.
Thankfully it was time for us to move and during packing many people benefited due to my hoarding! I swore I would never again suffer from over inventory.
The new clean house was a joy to manage and everything was hunky dory. Till my first visit to a metro hypermarket! Oh! the bargains, the variety and the colours all seduced me. In a trice my cart (which was double the size of the one in the small city I had come from!) was full and I needed another cart. I justified all the purchase by
“God!  You know I have saved five hundred today and I don’t need to shop for two months.
 Next month I was in the shopper’s paradise saving more money and packing all the spare cupboards in the house with stuff I may not use for the next year or so!

So the saga continues- every time I move, I throw away stuff that I have bought because I am “Saving”, each time I swear I will not buy anything new (specially crockeries!). Each new house has at least two cupboards full of stuff I will not use for at least a year.. Sometimes two years.
My newly qualified doctor in the family was sipping cold coke and enjoying her last holidays when I realized that it was the last bottle in the house. I immediately and unconsciously rang up the kirana (groceries) store and ordered two large bottles.
“Guests are coming over in the evening!” I justified my purchase to the questioning eyebrows of the Doctor!
She rang me up yesterday from her grandma’s house saying that hoarding was genetic as my mother also does the same thing!
Who can fight hereditary diseases?????
Let me wallow in pure unadulterated pleasure of hoarding!


The bug in the Apple

The balding, white haired old man came and said “Hi! Didi”, I woke up from this nightmare with a jump. (You see, I think of myself as an eternal twenty one year old and this person referring to me as an older sister is like a nightmare!). Anyway I was now half awake; I opened the flap of my cell phone to check the time. It was one A.M. in the morning; it was all silent outside; the Ganesh Visarjan was either over or was too far away for us to hear the drums and songs.
I then noticed that my TT* was missing from the bed. I know she is not the kind who would stay up so late to study. I tumbled out of bed and padded barefoot to the living room to see madam sitting at the table with the mac opened and her I phone attached to it like a patient on life support! There were plenty of wires, all trailing over the table, chair and floor. Before I continue I must tell you what happened earlier in the night…….

The 18th of September was D day for my little Apple Fan! You see the new iOS7 was going to be released that day. From the morning itself, I had heard it almost a hundred times as to what an exciting day it was going to be. Though I tried to muster up the same enthusiasm I failed miserably! For once the bitten Apple fan did not notice my failure and she enumerated the many advantages of the new Operating System. There was a test at school but the only thing on her mind was the great OS! I wasn’t expecting any great results in the test.
The ETA was 10 o’clock India time. Thankfully we had finished our dinner by then and most of the homework had been completed. The elder sister was trying to tutor her in math; of course the mind not being there, the inevitable argument ensued and both of them went their own way (the final outcome of all disagreements!)
“Oh My God! Oh My God!”
The scream that announced this was obviously to be noted and we both looked up to see an excited TT…
“It’s come, it’s come!”
It sounded as if “It’s a boy” by the nurse outside the delivery room!
“It’s installing, OMG! it started” all the while jumping around the room in excitement. For a moment I forgot she was sixteen- she seemed about five years old.
Older sister rolled her eyes and we both looked at each other and smiled indulgently.
We got busy with our nightly routine. She continued sitting at the table …..
At 11.30, I realized that she was nowhere near the bed and I asked her why she wasn’t coming.
There was frustration writ large on her face, “it didn’t install correctly, there is an error, and I have to do it again!”
Feeling sorry for her I left her to her devices and went to bed.

Coming back to my 1 A.M. sojourn……..
“Why aren’t you in bed? Don’t you have school?” I mumbled half asleep.
“Oh! Ma! It’s installing; should get over in fifteen minutes; will come to bed after that…”
Too sleepy to argue I went back to sleep.
The alarm woke me up at six o’clock and what do I see??????
The bitten apple fan on the bed looking at her i-phone with stars in her eyes!
“It’s done, it’s done”, she whispered loudly as soon as she realized I was awake.
This followed a whole lot of “sort of” technical details and extolling of the virtues of the new OS! I was made to look at the new interface and the different colours and even Siri’s new human voice! Bleary eyed and with a muddled mind I absorbed all this to the best of my ability and got out of my bed totally apple blasted!
From that moment till she left for school it was …
“Have you seen how this looks?”
“Have you seen how smoothly this moves?”
“Isn’t this so much classier?”
As soon as I was fully awake I tried to dampen her a little by being wicked…
“Android already has this”
But no effect!
She went and updated my i-pad during this time and tried to update the elder sister’s too (It was being done when the bus arrived so she was not successful!)
As she constantly whatsapps during her bus ride, she sent one message to her father that he must update his i pad, complete with instructions in bold letters (in case he couldn’t “hear” her!).
Her dad was amused at her enthusiasm and went on to update his tablet.
The evening after school, of course continued in this vein and I was deluged with repeat information about the GREAT OS! (She had forgotten that she had told me all and shown me all, in the early morning!)
The excitement continues even as I am writing this. The worm in the apple has not only bitten my little one….. My sister –in –law has already sent instruction to her brother that he must update his tablet, hence his amusement at the two ladies in the family going a little wonky at the birth of the i-OS 7!

Speedy Encounter!



After deliberating whether to walk to the post office or take an auto, we left the house without deciding. We hadn’t even walked a few steps when one little yellow and black auto swished seductively by us. I couldn’t help but put out a hand and before I realized we were sitting inside and I was directing the driver to take us to our destination. Alas! That I have no will power……

We stepped down at the Post office- a building at least sixty years old. It was neat and clean (Whitewashed sans the paan stains that you normally see government buildings decorated with!). The counters were old wooden windows which were strategically placed all round one huge hall.
We went and joined the long queue at the first counter. I stood and peered at the board (It was printed quite clearly for a change!) to check whether it was for the speed post. Not finding it on the list, I asked the gentleman in front of us where to go for sending a mail through speed post. Mumbai is filled with helpful people and this man was no exception, he at once pointed to the next window and we nonchalantly walked towards it. I bent down (the windows were at a level built sixty years ago) to talk to the lady sitting decked up in a glittering sari. She replied to my query with a silent gesture that it was the next window.
At last we reached our destination! The line was relatively short. We were the third in the line and I could easily read the board and number three on the board was “Speed Post”. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled down to wait for our turn. I was confident it would take a maximum of ten minutes. In between a smart young lady peeped in at the counter; I glared at her thinking she was cutting into the line. She noticed it and tried to explain that she needed some trivial thing. I thought to myself, “All of us are waiting for trivial things anyway so you better stick to the line!”
The first one in the line was off, I shifted my weight to the other leg and then decided I would let Chiqui stand in the line and I would go and get the inland letters and envelopes meanwhile. While leaving the line I asked her whether she had enough money, she nodded her head. I traipsed back to the second window to ask the queenly lady where I could get them (Incidentally that was the only window without a line!) She nodded her head; assuming that she would give them to me I told her,
 “Please give me ten inland letters and ten envelopes”
Mutely she nodded again; opened a tin-rust laden box and started rummaging in it. She took out a sheaf of blue papers and counted them once, then counted them for a second time after licking her fingers (Ewee!). She put it on the ledge, and went back to rummaging in the box for at least two minutes. Triumphantly she took out a sheaf of white envelopes and proceeded to count them. I thought I would prevent her from licking her fingers so I counted along with her, it was eight.

“There are only eight” I said (remember all the time I am bending down so that I could see her face!)
She ignored me; moistened her fingers and counted again. I closed my eyes (I am such an ostrich sometimes!)
“There are only eight” she parroted.

I could have thrown my purse at her in frustration but all I said,
“That’s all right I will take it” and put forward a hundred rupee note towards her.
She took it in slow motion and put it up to look through the light streaming in. Nobody, I mean nobody, checks hundred rupee notes anymore! Five hundred- I can understand but one hundred! (Seriously with a dollar crossing sixty four rupees!). Continuing in slow motion she took out her change box and gave me my change. Sigh! One work done; I was confident the other work would be done too.

Twirling on my toes I turned to look at the window next to me. Chiqui was now number two in the line! Here I had taken at least ten minutes and she still hadn’t reached the man! The man in front of her was bent and talking with the man behind the counter. I raised my eyebrows at Chiqui and she shrugged. I stood behind her and started reading the board:-

1.     Electricity bill (Tata) – 9 to 1 (This was written by hand with a pen)
2.     Gas bill – 9 to 1
3.     Speed Post
4.     MTNL phone bill – 9 to 1
5.     Etc etc etc…
Separate Q for senior citizens (Hand written in pen again!)




One elderly man was also waiting beside the man in front. The counter- man whose mouth was filled with something gestured to him and did some paperwork for him. The elderly man went off.
I had already moved restlessly twice hence the following conversation

Chiqui: Ma why don’t you take a round of the post office?
Me: No!

I bent down and peered,

Counter man: “hey Fernandez!  Get me those papers” (It was a miracle I could hear him)
There ensued a conversation between him and the unseen Fernandez, following this a fat sheaf of printing papers appeared. He tore out three leaves and put it in the printer. He then took out a scanner and scanned one envelope and then another and another… endless.
Me: He is doing yesterday’s work now!
Chiqui: Go round the building at least once (pleadingly)
By now there was a huge queue behind us. The smart lady had come back and was giving sympathetic smiles to me and peering at the counter man.
I left the line and stood waiting at the place where a senior citizen should be as there was no one there. I was contemplating whether to take Chiqui’s advice and go for a stroll when a gentleman with a white beard and black hair stood behind me with an envelope.

“Do we need to put stamps on this?” he asked ,thrusting an addressed envelope under my nose.

I shrugged, “No Idea!” (I am not a helpful Mumbaikar!)

He essayed again, “You are standing in the senior citizen line?”

I hurriedly left the line and he promptly stood there (I am sure he wasn’t a senior citizen, the rascal!).
Well to cut a long story short I went for a walk round the building and landed up next to a window through which I could see what the counterman was doing behind the counter!
He was still scanning a pile of envelopes, all of different sizes. He took one, fed in the address in the computer, stuck the speed post sticker, scanned it…..
I stood there watching him go through this exercise again and again. Feeling frustrated, restless and imprisoned! At last, he took the envelopes from the man in front of Chiqui and duly went through the ritual. I walked back to the counter.
The black and white guy thrust his envelope before Chiqui had time to react! I could have whacked the fraud!
Finally it was our turn and it took exactly three minutes to complete the exercise and can you believe it …..
Chiqui: Thank you
I rolled my eyes heaven wards.

After the advent of the internet and e-mails the post office was having a bad time making any profits. The government thus brought in a lot of other activities into the postal fold so that so many employees would not lose their jobs. But like all other government departments they will not put in an inch of extra effort to fulfill their duties. It is as if by paying tax to maintain them, they are doing us a favour!
All of us in the single line had lost at least an hour of precious time for a work that needs a maximum of ten minutes.

Isn’t it time that our rulers sat up and streamlined the departments at the grass root level before moaning about the devaluation of the rupee or the selfishness of the NRIs or brain drain for that matter!  

Social Etiquettes



“Hi Darling!”“Muah! Muah!” followed by a perfunctory hug and air kisses, (spreading lots of germs in the air!).

 This was not a typical society bash where it is more or less the norm to see such examples of exhibiting hypocritical affection. This was the open house of a high school!

Being an “old” mother (this was my second child) I always went to such get- togethers to show my face to the teachers, try and wrest some information (Hopefully good ones) from them, (Believe me it’s tough!) and maybe meet a few parents with whom I share the common denominator of having a child in the same grade.

I had done half the rounds by this moment; had walked four floors up and down twice; was taking my breath, having coffee and snacks which the school so thoughtfully provide us with. I had a ten minutes break before my next appointment.

I had just come in a year ago to the city and I knew that my child would pass out in a year more, so the real enthusiasm was lacking. I didn’t know many of the parents (though I smiled at everyone!). My socializing at the parent’s get- together had made me friends with the younger ones whose children were in the lower grade so I knew them well but didn’t know the older ones very well.
The faces were familiar though… So one of the enthusiastic parents came over and said, “Have you met Sandy?”

I looked up expecting to see an expat, when I saw a nice plump Indian in a tight black frock; a seven inch heel; a pair of danglers swinging fiercely and hair set in curls looking at me expectantly, I was a little dazzled!

I had noticed her in some of the meetings and had seen her go and hug some of the teachers. I am a strict “hand shaker” greeter so though I was surprised, I assumed she must know them well enough for the society greeting!

“Hi” I said, extending my hand towards her.

I was first given a thorough look over (dressed in jeans and a shirt with low heels- I was no society beauty!) Then a limp hand was offered for a hand shake…

“Oh Hi!” Sandy screeched

After I introduced myself, my friend went on gushing over her

“You know? You must get to know Sandy. She knows everybody here; if she doesn’t know someone then they are not worth knowing”

That put me in my place squarely!

I said, “I didn’t get your name”

A tinkle of laughter followed, “Well I am Sandhya Agarwal” (pronounced as Sandya Eggwal!). “I am Sandy’s mother”

I was flummoxed! Bothe mother and daughter with the same name?

“Is your daughter’s name also Sandhya?” I asked

“Oh no, no, no!” she intoned while her danglers jingled merrily, “My son’s name is Sandeep” (pronounced as Sandep!) “Where are you from?” she drawled.

“From India” I said shortly

She tinkled again, “I mean where did you shift from, the USA?”

Fortunately another skin clad, diamond clad parent appeared and the Muah muah routine began so I was able to slip away.

She caught me at the next break!

“I know your daughter” (pronounced daughta!). I felt a draught hit me!

“How nice” I lamely remarked

“I know everyone, I have been subbing* in school, you know”

“How nice” I parroted

“Yeah, but not this year, I am going to the USA” she said importantly with a curl of the lips. “My sister lives in Boston?”

“Hi Sandy!” another butterfly flitted close to us this was  followed by the 
“Ritual”.
“How was your sale?”

“Darling” she protested, “An exhibition, not a sale”

Abashed the butterfly decided she had made a faux pa and started sidling away.

I was back again in the glare, and I squirmed. There was still another five minutes left.

“I design jewelry” (pronounced joolery!)

“Oh”

“I sold out, you know!”

Bewildered I looked at her.

“My joolery exhibition” she gently reminded me.

“That’s great”, I put in a lot of admiration in my voice.

“Would you like to look at some?” quickly before I could disappear she fished out a visiting card and gave it me. “Give me a tinkle; I will organize a private exhibition for you. Get your friends and relatives too” she cooed.

I escaped to the next meeting. Thankfully her son was not taking that subject so I was spared another exhibition.

While walking back, I met one of my young friends and she asked me about Sandy with a smirk on her face.

I was surprised; I wondered how she knew that I had met her.

“Well, Sandy pointed you out to me and asked me who you were”

“So?”

“I told her that you were very rich; eccentric and asocial, that she should not be taken in by your simple attire, as everything you wore never cost less than 3000 $”

“Oh my God!”

That explained her interest in me and her zooming in to me whenever she found me alone!

In these multicultural events, I find the Japanese the most dignified. It is a pleasure to watch them. They have adopted the western attire in such a way that it suits them and they are never embarrassed about their accent or try to put up one. There are quite a few Indians who are also as elegant but a single Sandy can destroy the grace and dignity built up by them.

I walked up to my car and opened it.

“Hello”

I looked up startled

“No Driver?” Sandy cooed

“No” I smiled, “I like driving”

“Anytime you need one, tell me, I will arrange one”

“Thanks”

“May I have your number?”

I gave it to her reluctantly and wondered how much she would badger me if I had given her the right one!

*Substitute teacher