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The Traffic Signal


The old man with thick lenses shuffled up to the car window with his palm open. He held a few agarbattis (Incense sticks) in the other hand. His skin was rough and wrinkled and the expression  pitiful. Silently I paid my conscience money and felt good to see the smile on his face when I refused to take the agarbattis in exchange.

Hypocrite! My mind screamed at me silently.

 “What are you doing anyway? Paying for your comfort?” mocked the torturous mind.

The soul sadly agreed with its eternal foe and said, “Like paying your electricity bill for your cold comfort, you pay the old man to ease your uncomfortable conscience!”

I always have these tussles at the traffic signals. It is here I see a part of my country which does not fill me with pride. The obviously pregnant teenage girl, carrying a small child, begging; the little boy with the twisted arm, begging; the well dressed and made up eunuchs, begging; and of course the aged on the last legs of life, begging.

After watching slum dog millionaire I had become very callous. I imagined that all these people are employed by the beggar mafia to earn for them and refused to hand out money. It’s especially irritating that when you give money to one child another five turn up for their share of my conscience money. But lately as I grow older I cannot bear to see the aged begging and go on doling out whenever and how much ever I can.

The world I believe is filled with two kinds of people- the givers and the takers. It’s not only about money. It’s about emotions and happiness. Most of my life, I have been a taker (I think I still am!) I have taken love, happiness and money without giving it a thought. I have taken it for granted and as a part of my rights and privileges! I have given (Hopefully I have!) but not to the extent that I have received.  From my Parents, sister, husband and children – I have taken life, love, happiness, care and sympathy without a second thought. Am I then like the beggars? Opening my hand and heart and accepting what has been given to me with a smile?

Are we all like the small microcosm of the traffic signal? Giving and taking? Bears introspection doesn’t it?

According to the season, I get to see the strawberry / mango / sugarcane/ apricot sellers there too. I have fun with them! Whatever price they ask I simply divide it by two and I am usually surprised that they agree! I am sure they have done their market research and know how exactly to handle the varied type of clientele! As it is much cheaper than the shops I buy them from, I am happy and they are happy too- win-win situation. They have no establishment cost and hence can reduce their profit margins drastically for some customers. Many people (mostly men) are in a hurry and assume these people are anyway cheap and pay them whatever they ask for. So here they get hundred percent profit.

I have read a few articles on these vendors. How they are irritating, how they ruin the economy, how they have a mafia by themselves but never a word of appreciation about the heat and dust they face all the time! How much they have to pay the local police to be allowed to vend in these dangerous circumstances. I wonder how much money they make. Where they live? Do they save?

I think they live for the moment (what most lifestyle gurus advise us to do!) never worry about the future and in time become like the old beggar.

In one of my old blog posts I had written about the families who live on the footpath. Their trials and tribulations and their happiness and serenity! Well I saw one such family in Santacruz. Ten years back when I had first moved to Mumbai, I used to live there and go for walks. I used to see a small family selling toys at the traffic signal. They lived on the corner of the pedestrian way. They just had had a baby and it was permanently in a small sari made cradle (Unwashed and dirty). The wife was young and pretty (though very very dirty). 

I had gone there recently and was waiting at the signal. The family was still there! There were three children playing and another one in the sari cradle! The smiling wife was still smiling (a few grey hairs had crept in!) she was still dirty but now she was cooking. The man was still selling toys with the little boys helping him carry his stuff. They toys were different; more techno smart and colorful and now only people in the autos and motorcycles looked at them.

The interesting thing was he was selling small alphabet booklets and coloring books for pre-K children too. I saw the third child flipping through some of the books near its mother. Will he read them or learn to read them? Will he get educated and try to get out of the kind of life they were leading?

The light turned green and the wife yelled at the children to get away. They nimbly jumped out of traffic’s way into their safety zone.

I hear India has advanced very far in the Economic arena. We are the third largest tourists in the world. We have a growing number of billionaires. Our middle class is one of the richest. Yet I see this picture every time I step out of my home.

Could some venture capitalist finance some new ideas to remove poverty and helplessness? I am sure some app could be developed to gouge out this black spot in our economic horizon. Apple, I believe has had one of the largest profit margins in India this year!

I have seen many companies trying to alleviate such sufferings in their own way. But are we doing enough? In ten years we have not changed the life of one pavement dweller! Where are all the societies hiding? We have millions being spent on advertisement for “equal streets” movement and not a few thousand to give to this family?

I think it’s time to introspect and ask when the good times will come. When skating on roads causing traffic jams elsewhere will lead on to concrete plans for every child and not only for the select few? When real estate advertisements stop talking about LSF (Life Style Factor) for your child and focus on Corporate Social responsibility?

I continue to squirm uncomfortably….. 

“DO YOU WORK?”


I have the time to stare and watch these days!

“What do you do the whole day?” a very common question aimed at me for the last four years is starting to get less and less irritating. Unfortunately I still haven’t framed a pert rejoinder to the query! I am working on it.

The young ones (college going, pre married and newly working ones) never ask me, maybe because they are not interested enough or they are at that age, self-centered! I love to spend time with them; they are normally positive and full of their experience in life. The newly married ones and new moms are also fine- they are busy with their lives and they believe, their problems are paramount and insurmountable! So O.K. they don’t pay too much of attention to how I spend my time!

It’s the rest of the world who are sometimes tiring with their predictable question (notice the singular “question”!)

I have had a very ordinary and predictable life. Studied, married, had children, worked for some time and now…….????

Another question I am accosted with frequently is “Do you work?”

Well of course I do! How else would a healthy person exist?

The definition of work is-be engaged in physical or mental activity in order to achieve a result- Just by being there I am working!

I wake up in the morning and look down at the beautiful garden below. It is teeming with life! (Sometimes I wake up at five in the morning and the well-lit garden is humming with activity)You would be amazed at what all people do early in the morning. (Being a night person, my brain refuses to work for an hour or so after I wake up!) There are the young ones with plugged up ears running and jogging, the middle aged ones (you can tell by their paunches!) walking energetically, the old ones talking a leisurely stroll and some undisciplined kids weaving in and out almost tripping people. I feel am I losing out on life, I don’t do all this…..But….

Some five- six years back I used to do all this (Not in the morning though! Usually evening) I enjoyed it too! I used to exercise vigorously, diet all the time and fill myself with diet snacks and fruits et al; have advised people to do the same. Just imagine making three kinds of meals, looking after kids and husband and “working” too! But I was never a rebel and I walked with the pack. Complaining about everything (price, maid, vegetables and you name it!)

After the first one left the nest, I slowly stopped obsessing about school and grades (the second one was lucky!)I gave more freedom to the younger one; stopped freaking out about “why 98 not 100?” I was lucky to go abroad where my dependency on maids  reduced considerably; petty politics at work was a thing of the past and I changed drastically, my whole attitude towards life changed. Whether that was a good thing or not, is for you to decide.

People were already saying,” soon your second one will leave – you must get back to work”. To be honest I mulled over it for some time and halfheartedly tried. Then one fine day I decided to leave the race! I wanted to stand and stare at the runners going ahead with their jogging shoes and water bottles’ I pod and headphones; determined and sweaty faces!

I have been blessed with an understanding husband who lets me do whatever I want to. I know he would love it if I went back into the “working” arena but he respects my wish, not to.

For the last four years, I have been fulfilling one of my life’s desires- to travel. I have traveled a lot and drunk in the pleasure of new civilizations, cultures, currencies and beauty. I have had the freedom to help my children settle down and begin their journey in and towards adulthood. Could I have done this if I had been “working”? I have gone on holidays not worrying about school holidays or leave applications. I have reduced my cribbing quotient and moved towards positivity in spite of all the negativity that surrounds me. Yes I have fallen ill but without feeling guilty that I have to take leave and stay at home. I believe that I am living life now. I know people will accuse me of being selfish, lazy and pleasure loving. Maybe I am that! But all of us deserve a break from the mundane grind of existence and I believe that after being good for so long, let me be a little evil!

To answer the very important “question” I do work. I work to run the house, I work to give emotional support to many people in my life, I work to keep a balance of yin yang in the family, I work to see that life is running smoothly for the people who have done so for me, now. I am the finance minister, the home minister, the education minister, the foreign affairs minister… all rolled into one.

So my young and old friends learn that we all have our roles to play at all times during our life. It is important that we find our niche and enjoy what we do. All of us are working towards a common goal of reaching out to happiness. Even the beggar works!

I read and play, I am learning to enjoy cooking (I have always hated it till now!) I am learning to explore and discover. I am learning! That’s the important thing. The day I stop learning I will die and then you can ask me “What do I do the whole day?” Now twenty-four hours is not enough for me!

The main thing is to fulfill your responsibilities and still enjoy the process of life!

Bewildering Bargains



She peered at the thousand rupee note, first up side, then down side and then against the light, turning it at all possible angles. Satisfied she slid it into her drawer and condescended to give me my change! There was a huge line behind me and everyone was fidgeting at the delay. There had been a long queue in front of me, so I was irritated and wanting to go home as soon as possible. Someone hissed behind me:
“Why don’t you give your credit card, it’s much faster!”
Well I needed change, so I had given the note instead of using the card. But I didn’t explain that to the man behind me. I would have further wasted his time and mine too in the bargain!

“Doesn’t matter, you can pay me tomorrow, Madam” this was by a small shop owner where I had gone to buy some electrical stuff. But I fished out another thousand rupee note and he took it unhesitatingly and gave me the change at once. His little shop was teeming with people, but he gave equal attention to all his customers. He made the extra effort to find the exact stuff each client was looking for.

“Can you change this twenty rupee note, its torn and patched?” I asked the Egg fellow who comes to my door everyday

“Madam, if you have any problem with it, return it to me with your next purchase” he smilingly said this as I gave him an irritated look and shut the door.
Three different interactions and three different reactions, both by me and the second person!
The first one was by an employee of a big supermarket chain. Aren’t they trained in customer care? Most of them are tired, covertly rude and multi-tasking (Including, talking on the cell phone and talking with their coworkers!)They treat you as if they are giving stuff that we buy, for free! There are a few who are helpful but you can count them on your fingers!
 But we are addicted to super markets. It’s fun to pick up the stuff you want yourself and not wait for someone to serve you. You can loiter, have a choice of brands to choose from and pick the price you have catered to in your budget. There are plenty of other pluses, so I go there again and again. In spite of the rudeness and the long lines!
The second experience was in an owner run shop. He tries to cultivate you personally, remembers you, trusts you and is very very helpful! He is “Old school”. It is a pleasant experience as long as there aren’t people jostling you to get to the counter. (He has a solution to that-“Why don’t you phone me madam, I will send it home?”)
I go there only when it is absolutely necessary. In spite of the good behavior and treatment!
The third one is the door to door salesman. He comes laden with a variety of bread, cheap snacks and eggs. Every day without fail! Though he knows I cannot buy a dozen eggs and bread daily! Sometimes I pretend I am not at home and do not open the door! Just to avoid seeing his disappointed face.
Here is something I avoid even though it’s convenient (No broken eggs while lugging it from the market! the bread is absolutely fresh too!) I have his phone number and in an emergency call him and he comes and gives it too.
I do not understand the social psyche nor do I understand mine!  I like going to air-conditioned malls for my vegetables rather than go and get it from the road side shops although they are fresher if not cheaper!
The other day I had gone to the Station market (In Mumbai you get everything in the world here at half the price!) I wanted to frame some pictures. I managed to frame eleven pictures for the price of One framed painting that I bought at the mall!

As a human society we are slowly becoming comfort loving. The charm that was there in bargaining when we were young has gone (the more expensive the better it is!). The adventure of shopping has been taken over by paid adventure holidays!
I wonder if the young ones still bargain on the footpath of Janpath for tops, chappals and trinkets like we used to. I remember buying a top for five rupees and a whole outfit for rupees hundred when I was in college (includes handbag, chappals and bangles!)Here in Mumbai, the footpath shops (Linking Road) do not deign to bargain with me. The old trick of” walking away and being called back” is working less and less!

Oh well! Time changes and so does shopping style! But the narrow alleys of Europe still abound with such style and because the weather is lovely there I don’t mind loitering on the sidewalks browsing and bargaining for the pleasure of bargaining!

Home is where the heart is….

The “rattling” magpies puncture the absolute silence of my evening walk back from the gym. The sweeping manicured lawns, the well cut side walks and the gently flowering shrubs add to the picture postcard beauty as I loiter and store in the scenes and hope to retrieve it at my leisure. I am in a dream. The houses in neat rows, no garbage in sight, the sun still bright in the sky and there is still hours to go before I sleep.

Where am I? Not definitely in my own country! Nor in Mumbai the “maximum” city. I am in the suburbs of Houston a major city in the United States. Having a long vacation, in fact a kind of vacation which I have never had. I have the comfort of home without any responsibilities, living in a foreign country with a regular supply of Indian food ( which has been my obstacles during my travels) , I sleep when I want to , get up when I want to, read, browse the net and be the guest of a very sweet sister in law and brother in law.

The people at the gym are sweet. They greet you with a hi! And bid adieu with ” have a nice day/ evening” I refer to them as “firangs” (foreigners) when I am the foreigner!


The other day I went a little early. The sun was hot in the sky but young boys were out on their skate boards, little girls were walking to the pool with their mothers and I saw the men who worked tirelessly to keep the landscape pristine and beautiful. They were mostly Hispanic, some of them old but mostly relatively and energetically young. They drive the lawn mowers like racing cars- expertly manoeuvring them around curves!

The normal silence that enveloped the atmosphere was missing. There was the sporadic noise of a car whispering by on the main road, the loan mowers groaning, the leaf blower’s whoosh and a few dogs barking behind the fences of the backyard.

The trees that line the roads- the maples, the ash, the oaks….. All grow in an orderly manner. They all have leaves, green and healthy, they stand straight in a eliminated manner and wave their branches gently and calmly. Even the rain here is in straight lines! ( with my limited imagination I cannot imagine the hurricanes and storms that have hit this place!)

I am content…. But am I thrilled or happy as I was in the forest in Hannover? I don’t know.

I remember the irritating pigeons that worm their way into my balcony. I remember the wily newspaperman trying to overcharge me. I remember the various delivery boys who keep interrupting my games on the computer!

The dirty roads I do not miss! But the hustle and bustle of the roads I do. Missing the overflowing garbage bins would be abnormal but appreciating the life on the streets wouldn’t be too crazy, or would it?

There is a lot of heat and dust in the country that we call India. The colour, the spice and the uncertainty puts a pall on the clinical and sanitary world of the west. I remember the kindergarten teacher in Germany asking or letting the children roll and play in mud in the forest. They also realise that some dirt is required to let us develop into complete human beings.

To each to his own and I suppose some firang must be feeling as I am doing now in India. But I do miss my Mr. Know all  “calm” husband, my first born and the still terrible teenager. The space that I call my home and the little box with my various Gods are asking me “when will you  come back?

After all home is where the heart is…….

Gestational Growth!

Nine months of very tumultuous existence!  It was almost this time frame away that I wrote my last blog. It was about a milestone in my life. I thought that with my nest empty, I would feel empty, lonely and miserable; but life had other things in store for me! I have not had much time to brood, leave alone feel miserable and life has been far from empty!

Life, God or the omniscient- whatever you would like to call it, has catapulted me into a whirlpool of activity. I have been indulged with my favorite activity- Travel! The excitement of packing and planning, checking in (both at the airport and Facebook!) and the giddiness of reaching new places and exploring them at my own pace is what has made me go on despite the “empty nest” syndrome staring at my face.

I have had academic exposure, whirlwind sightseeing, peaceful living and settling in two children in different environments and squeezing in a romantic twenty-fifth anniversary (a surprise one) into these nine months.

It was awesome to be in school once again as a student. I learnt to listen, comprehend and participate. This time it was fun! I didn’t need to excel or impress, just assimilate and hopefully gather knowledge which I think, I might use later in life. It did wonders for my ego and self-esteem.  I have no regrets except the fact that I could have been less inhibited. I learnt that you need ideas to succeed, not money; I learnt that you need courage to win, not immaculate perfection; I also learnt that shooting from your heart can let you reach your targets faster than shooting from your brain. The most perfect planning can fall flat because of a tiny error.


The ten days of unplanned tourism that we indulged in exposed us to a new culture which has the greatest strength behind it- the strength of variety. Colorful, vibrant and enthusiastic is how I will describe the American culture. It is young and impetuous; it does not have the profound peace and strength of our ancient civilization, but hey! Who wants peace when one is young???? But we did find peace as we gazed at the Niagara Falls! It has spoilt me for any other falls in the world! I bore everyone with “Niagara Falls was so…..” The natural beauty of the huge country takes your breath away.
Poverty and crime are also here, pollution and garbage do abound, racism and insecurity are evident but it is the land of opportunity. I felt that justice and fair practice are more obvious here than anywhere in the world. It does not have the sophistication of Europe, neither does it have the grace and tradition of the ancient civilizations but it has charm, energy and raw beauty and power.

After the chilled out month at Houston which I spent time with my sis-in-law, I had a hectic fifteen days at Bloomington; setting up my little TT who is now my fledgling! I came back to the heat and dust of Mumbai. Longing for Indian food and just letting go …. But there was more travel and a stint at the hospital and then setting up house twice over and more travel.

I jumped into the Mauritian culture for my second honeymoon! What a contrast! Life there is so laid back, everyone is happy and the clock moves really slowly- blissful! The people there are easygoing. It is how I imagine paradise must have been.

Thank God, Eve ate the apple! I don’t think I would have endured paradise for too long! Walking in the forest and eating fruits all day long!

It’s been a long gestational period for me. Like the little baby, I have grown “mentally” in leaps and bounds. It’s been a “full on” (Excuse my Indian slang!) learning period- a period of growth and development as a person. I have become more patient and resilient. I have accepted negativity as a co-existence of positivity. I have acknowledged that I am not always right and that I am no “Miss-know-all”. 

I am able to stand in a line in the MTNL office and smile at the man trying to break in and say a “Thank you” to the Madam behind the counter! Don’t you think that’s growth?

The Milestone of Parenthood

The scrunched up eyes and red face was delivered into my arms and I looked at it with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Is this little mite really mine? Am I wholly going to be responsible for this helpless bundle? I am sure mothers, the world over, have gone through similar and lot more rhetoric questions at this precious moment. Nature equips us to go through all the pain and still gives us all the energy to indulge in the joy of creation that each of these children bring about.
Life is never the same after this momentous event. From a selfish, carefree and “World is my Oyster” kind of existence you are pushed into a tiring routine of cleaning bathing and feeding.  The world now becomes an uncertain jungle. You start planning and saving. Your happiness becomes limited yet infinite at the same time! The other young but unrestricted couple look at you with pity but you look back at them with pity too!

And life goes on……

Before you realize it’s more than twenty years…. The family has grown too and the tiny mite is a young adult with a sibling who is also ready to fly! When the first one left home, it was traumatic (at least for me!) For seventeen years I had looked after, guided, advised and had gone through every physical and emotional ups and downs and now the “wicked” world would lay down an obstacle course for my ‘delicately nurtured princess’. Every time I heard of the slightest pain I would feel like leaving everything and rushing over to take care but swallowing desire and knowing that one day she would have to be responsible for her life, I didn’t!  I feel proud of myself and especially of her as I see her manage her life and kick all the obstacles on her path.
It’s that time again now when her sibling will leave home to take up the reins of her life. I thought I am mature, having gone through all the gamut of emotions, I would (I was sure!) be a very sophisticated mother and let go with grace and dignity. In fact one mother who will be leaving her first child said, “For you it will be a cake walk, you have already let go once!” I am sure even if you have ten, letting go each time will be as difficult as the first time!


There is still time before she leaves home but the familiar emotions have started crowding in. Yes the planning and scheduling does distract you during the day but the nights are dark and long and all the bogeys in the world come crowding in and it’s very uncomfortable.
The positive thing is this is a phase and it will get over sooner or later. Just wish its sooner than later! The whole world I feel is looking down at me with a superior smile. The older ones, having forgotten their past emotions, must be saying “Oh! It’s no great deal”, the younger ones also, in their ignorance, saying “Oh! It’s no big deal” Will I also be doing this, ten years from now? If I do, someone remind me of this blog and the superior smile will be arrested on my lips.

I must not forget to mention the fathers here. Though I have no idea what they go through but I am sure it is equally if not more stressful for them.  They have to put up ‘the stiff upper lip’ bravado and be ‘a man’ while we mothers have the luxury of giving way and being accepted as such.
 While the baby books record their milestones for posterity, there is no life book to record our milestones of parenthood! Letting go is a milestone. We cross it and rarely look back (except with affection) and go on to the next milestone.

Happy parents’ day should also be celebrated separately!

The windows at the RTO!


The winter sun was beating down relentlessly as I searched for a place to park the car. The huge gates leading to the RTO (Regional Transport Office to the uneducated!), was a little ajar but I knew I couldn’t drive in. After asking one of the Auto drivers, I started on a road safari to find a parking place! There was no road, only a huge muddy expanse filled with derelict cars and Autos. I weaved my way in and out of any available space and found a relatively safe place to park the car. I searched minutely to find a ‘no parking’ sign but couldn’t find any. Not that it gave me any comfort but bravely I went on to fight the first of many battles!


Before I go ahead with my story I need to give you some background information about what I was doing here. Two months ago the young adult in the family had a long break after her final exam and so we decided that it was time she got herself a driving license. The driving school was found and she was enrolled and soon she gave her test. Proudly she came home and said she had passed her test and the license would come in three weeks. She went off to join work and I sat waiting for it to come!


There was a complication though, right from the beginning- the address in her passport was an old one and the license would be delivered there! The driving school owner told us that it will go there and be returned, after which I could go to the RTO and pick up the returned license. Assuming this to be the gospel truth I sat tight, in short- not being proactive. When six weeks passed by, I tried to find out the status and was told (By the driving school) that the license had been delivered at the old address. I had to shake myself and make a trip to my old address.


I went into the familiar precincts and nostalgia washed over me as I took the lift to the eighteenth floor. I was welcomed into the house which I had once considered my own. I criticized the décor and the unnecessary clutter of the house (in my mind) and was assured by the owner that no license had been delivered and that he would let me know if and when it happened. We exchanged telephone numbers and I made a new friend!


So here I was in the wilderness of cars to find out what had really happened!
I had been advised to contact some Mr. Patil, who would help me out. After asking around where to find him I reached window no 30 (I was the proud visitor of windows 18, 21, 27, 2…..)

There was a short queue and I waited patiently for my turn.

 “Mr. Patil?” I queried

“Humph” A finger pointed at the next man.

I swiveled around, put on my most harassed and pathetic expression and started on my woeful tale. It was ruthlessly cut short ….

“Go to window 42 and get the number!”


What was one more window to weary traveler? I walked to window 42 which was miraculously empty! I peered in to see a heavily harassed young man surrounded by a cacophonous group of men who were talking all at once. My heart sank. After coming so far I couldn’t leave the battle field, could I? I straightened my back and pushed my way into the throng and stood squarely in front of the man who was peering into the PC.


Sometimes being a woman has its advantages! Amongst a group of brown and black, here I was in pink and he looked up at me. Without getting into preliminaries I thrust the paper with details at him. He took it peered at it then at his PC; scribbled a long line of numbers; thrust it back at me. “Go back to Patil”
Back to window 30, Patil scrutinized the number gravely, cleared his throat, “It has been delivered”

I said, “No it hasn’t been”

“Wait, the postman who delivered it will come in twenty minutes, you can talk to him”

I hung around for twenty minutes and poked my face at the window.

“This is not an airport! Twenty minutes could mean an hour, you have to wait madam!”

By now I was jittery about my car which was parked in a no man’s land; it was hot; I was thirsty. I decided to let everyone go to hell and went home!


Two days went before I began nagging the Car school (they take a heavy fee so that they ensure that the license is received). It went on and on for almost four months- my nagging; calling up my new friend (who by the way advised me to bribe Patil!) without any avail. I was frustrated; the young adult was equally frustrated. My frustration was higher as I, on the advice of the school had registered an FIR and applied for a duplicate license after paying more!


I was always given hope that it would eventually turn up. After returning from a holiday I was back at my job of nagging the school who gave me an entirely new story! The license had never been sent! Thank God I was on the phone otherwise I would have shot the man! A new man had come to window 42 and he said that the license would “soon” be dispatched.


My second trip to the RTO did not yield anything but it was more comfortable as I got a lift there, hence no worries about my car being towed away. Window 42 was just the same scene of cacophony and chaos. But being a woman in an all-male zone I could make myself heard.

A curt, “it will take another three weeks to be delivered” and “No! We will not hand it over to you, it will be posted” was all I got for my troubles.


The waiting period began…… After three weeks the phone call to my friend and the car school began too and then I gave up! It was almost six months- nothing was going to happen! I advised Chiqui to apply for a license in her city and tried to wash my failure out with the strongest detergent possible. Enough was enough! I had lost the battle.


Was dreaming of pleasant things when the musical tinkling of my phone woke me up, it was my friend!

“Madam, I think your license has come, please come and pick it up at your convenience”

I couldn’t thank him enough for bearing with my repeated phone calls. I had at least won the war!

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.