Stop and start. Again.

I have always wondered why people all of a sudden stop writing. Especially the one’s who were such regulars, seemed passionate about what they were writing and also made blogging/writing seem very effortless. After a very slow (blogging) spell myself, I am nowhere close to the answer. Life happens seems to be the reason to hide under, but it also seems to be quite a simplistic one.  Anyway,  like I said I am nowhere close to the answer and having to write it all down doesn’t seem as important as it once did.  But what I do miss is having my mind occupied in thinking through what I wanted to write about (each of my trips and experiences) rather than spending every spare minute agonizingly analyze every aspect of my life. It was cathartic to say the least. Of course, there was also one point while ALL I was thinking was what I would say in my blog...  I first saw this comic at a fellow blogger who too has dropped off the blogging universe!

Courtesy:http://xkcd.com/77/

Its going to be terribly hard to get back on to this horse (a similar lack of motivation is afflicting me even in work writing), but I’ve recognized the need to start again. So here goes. Baby steps.

Defying definition...

... somewhat like state of life at the moment. Love this line from Monalisa Smile. Not all who wander are aimless. Especially not those who seek truth beyond tradition, beyond definition, beyond the image.

Been obsessed with un-focused photos, the lack of definition adding a hint of mystery, I think. Singapore ablaze in night lights on the walk from work to home. Can you place them???

Bridge over the Singapore river, near Fullerton


From Boat Quay to Clark Quay


Clark Quay with bungee jumping on the right


View across Clark Quay



At the signal opposite to MICA

Sunset in Zanzibar

Walking back slowly from Stone town along the water front, navigating through the evening crowds, recording every moment of this last evening, her only aim being to get back to her hostel before it became too dark, what with all the hostel warnings about it not being too safe at nights.

And once again, she was struck by how much the scene in front of her felt like home – the sharp smell of the sea in the air, the waves rising high and splashing spray all over the pavement, families, friends and lovers sitting along the waterfront, in the park seats and under the trees, in conversation or just watching the sea, a bunch of young boys appearing to have some contest in jumping off the pavement into the water, vendors in the Forodhani market peddling food of every variety for the stomach willing to chance it...

As she waved through the crowds, watching the scene ahead of her, it suddenly struck her the time for the sunset wasn’t far away. Putting aside her fear of getting late, she raced to find a spot to catch the first one for the year.

There is something about being in a place so far removed from the regularity of everyday life, lost in the anonymity of the crowds, where you could suddenly be anyone, anything you wanted to be. The vacation was coming to an end, but the memories would stay. There was hope in the air, and a feeling that anything was possible… a sense of new beginnings. New year or not. ;)

Catching the sunset at Forodhani water front, Zanzibar

Stone Town

Goodbye seems to be the hardest word...

The sun was streaming through the french windows, stripped bare of the curtains that had adorned them for so long, flooding the whole room in bright light. It felt like the first time I had walked in and fallen in love with the place. There had been a s sense of hope, and of new beginnings. Except, now, on the floors, in the corner, stood my bags. All packed.

This was something I've wanted for a long long long time. Something I wanted like yesterday. Yet, at that final moment, I was in knots...

It was time to move again.

Goodbye Bombay. Hello Singapore!

The fragrance between the pages...

Just thinking of my book worm days... I miss those, but love this!

I stepped into the bookshop and breathed in that perfume of paper and magic that strangely no one had ever thought of bottling.
- Carlos Ruiz Zafón)

What a rollercoaster ride!!!

I started this year with a lot of optimism (no particular reason, just a general feeling of goodness)...then some news that what I had been hoping for wasn't happening and taking me to a dark dark place.. and then fate turning tables and winds of change... which then simmered down to barely a breeze or not even! has been a roller coaster 3 months, I am worried about the remainder!!!

Still, the doors open yet again, and I wait!!!

Sorry for such cryptic writing, but the story will unravel soon!

Of Spanish and other new things this year

It’s ridiculous how excited I felt to be enrolling for Spanish classes last week. I haven’t felt so enthusiastic about something like this a long time. I was worried if I would go through with it – considering, it is 3 hours on Saturday and 3 hours on Sunday early morn. But the moment I entered the school, I had a good feeling. One of my classmates candidly confessed that she needed to “do something more with her life” other than work et al, and there was a moment of relief and I almost broke out laughing, thinking that was exactly what was running through my head.

So this year is all about reclaiming my life (oh well, yes Getting A Life!). To put myself out there, try new things and meet (new) people! It’s not going to be easy – even as I resolve to do all this, I have been doing 14 hour work days and have been on a race against time which leaves me aching for an overdose of sleep– and it is still January! But, I persist! (And made it to my early morning Sunday class). So wish me luck.

Some Spanish and un-spanish thoughts...
1. It seems my name will never be the same again in Europe - Nee-ra-ha (Spanish) or Nee-ra-ya (German) - is only slightly better than my classmate’s Poo-ha!
2. I feel cheated of one Spanish speaking country cos I found Portugese is what is common in Brazil! (No, I didn’t Know).
3. Siente mi fuego – is the phrase I love. It means ‘feel my fire’ (after translating R Kelly’s Burn it up, and not at all sure of the grammar). Also love, Quedate conmigo – ‘stay with me’ (Enrique’s Bailamos). Bailamos is dance, Baila la calle is dancing in the streets...
4. I was the only one to fantasize about my profession – I was a bailarina for a few moments when introducing myself.

10 million fireflies lighting up the world...

You would not believe your eyes
If ten million fireflies
Lit up the world as I fell asleep
Because they'd fill the open air
And leave teardrops everywhere
You'd think me rude but I'd just stand and stare
- Owl City

This song has gotten under my skin. Although I am sure the writer intended a more profound association for his lyrics, it is bringing back memories of all those nights when I couldn’t stop admiring the beautiful inky midnight blue spread above filled with dancing fireflies. It feels like I am uncorking a jar of glorious nights, stumbled into unknowingly and collected little by little over the years.

Nights which amazed me – I thought I have never seen it this beautiful; nights which made me wistful, sometimes poetically lonely; nights, the beauty of which, brought pure joy and happiness and you wanted to sing out loud; and then nights where there couldn’t have been a more heady combination than that of stars and silence .

Most of all, nights that make you believe that nights like these is purpose enough for life. Now, if only I could remember that...

When a work trip starts to kill

‘You no bored?’ she laughs as she keys in my order for 1 veggie delight. I try to laugh away telling her I am vegetarian- although, I am sure she was referring to the fact that I’ve nearly been having subs for dinner and lunch every day for the last 2-odd weeks. I have a sneaking suspicion that the 2 women at Toast Box have been sniggering for the exact same reason. Every day it has been the same order – coffee, thick toast, to go.

Ah yes. That is how I was also speaking at shops and restaurants. Why need connectors like ‘and’,‘is’ when you can convey the meaning with just the important words. It is funny how you unconsciously changes your accent in a new place to be better understood. Sometimes, you change to broken English too. Like, after one month of eating at Denny’s in the US, I was all into thannnk you’s from my nose.

3 weeks in Singapore once again – but buried in work, and smothered in stress this time. I don’t think I have found myself in as much stress before. The second Sunday in office, I found myself crying in the ladies room - I was having my first panic attack imagining a life full of sundays at work. One part of my brain said, I should be working and that way I'll get the hell out faster. But the other part just refused to contemplate the thought of work. In the end I just left and slept through the panic.

I had no energy to call up friends. No energy for a meal in a restaurant. And yes, I came to the point I was too tired to shop! That, is the bottom of bottoms I hit. And so, I think I have finally arrived at that point where work trips may no longer be thought of as fun and a welcome change!

Highlights of the trip – yes, there were some at least –

In my first week, we had a team party held on a yacht in Sentosa. The weather was great, wine was flowing and we were after all in a place reserved for the rich and beautiful. Although, like any office party, I - the lowly associate – hardly had much to say compared with the high-flying and fabulous experiences of the big guns. So it was more an evening of smiles and head nodding, but fun anyway.

A day trip to Manila – a mix up of bit of the chaos of India, a bit of Mexico with old tin tiled houses and the Spanish names, and bit of posh tall rise buildings of Singapore and Hong Kong. I tried some ‘orginal’ Philippines food – a dish of glass noodles – and I have to say I don’t care for it! One day was hardly enough to understand the city, but the hope is for another trip. Hopefully to explore the country’s beaches and mountains away from Manila. And hopefully, when there are no typhoons.

And, there was fantastic book sale close to work and I found some very interesting travel titles – I had been considering picking up one of them at borders for 30 dollars, and I ended up getting it for 6 dollars in the sale. Also, a book on the next country on my list... it will be revealed when it happens!

On my last day, I woke up at 11 at night, made a dash for ‘Spices of India’ in hotel Rendezvous. Yes, they were still serving dinner, and the guy actually remembered me! One order of half portion peas pilaf, mushroom curry and raita please.

PS: Anyways, I am back after a long time. The hope is to get back to my routine of visiting blogs, travel planning and hopefully blogging.

My very own Do Up My House story

This story has a happy ending. Oh well, a happy beginning too. :)

My new place.

I was almost despairing when one of the places that I had somewhat liked (didn’t like the owner, I admit) and was in the process of finalizing fell through. Despairing also because by then, I knew the design, type, pros and cons of flats in every building in the area and hadn’t found anything that would suit. Making a big move like moving out alone, you don’t want to settle for anything less than a house that screams ‘Come and Get Me’!!!

I was indulging in honest I Hate the World and Why do I Always Get the Raw End of the Deal, depression and self-pity, when this place came up. I was sure it wouldn’t fit in my budget, but what the hell, it would expand my real estate knowledge and so I went to take a look at it. It was an apartment on the 13th floor, with space like a football field (well, for a one bedroom place anyway!), french windows on all rooms and BALCONIES!!! What clinched the deal was that the balconies and windows DID NOT overlook another flat. What more could one ask for in Bombay??? And yes, it does help to be living in a banished suburb.

The living room

I moved in a few weeks back and I have to say it’s been great. Somewhere along the way, I realized I was in the middle of my Do Up Your House story. He He, nothing extravagant like restoring a villa in Tuscany or in Morocco. But MY scaled down version of it. Matching curtains and cushion covers and drapes, getting the right TV table, lamp shades – such complex decisions and such fun!

Distant buildings that light up at night

From a more day to day standpoint, I like that I have become more disciplined. True, I could have been that in my old place, but at some point I had lost the will to care. Now I have no choice but to care and make time for more mundane stuff like running errands, organizing the house, or to get an odd job fixed. OK, that doesn’t sound fun, but trust me, it is.

Sometimes, I almost feel like The Heroine in the Book of My Life, like there is a narration which makes the most banal of activities very soulful and insightful - ‘It was a lazy Saturday morning and she woke up to the sun streaming from behind tall far away high rises through her window. The image of a hotcup of chai drew her out and she walked to the balcony, feeling the cold early morning chill as she sipped a cup, lost in her thoughts...”. He He, I’ll stop here!!!

Anyway, there is no single verdict on living alone. But it’s an experience worth trying!My only tip, get a place u see yourself in. This was a big step for me last year, and I am more than thankful it came together. I may tired of living alone soon enough, but until then...

The view from my bedroom!

The view I wake up to

Alone or not alone? That is the question

Ok. I have to take a diversion from my not-going-anywhere Europe travelogues to turn to more pressing problem.

I have to move. My flatmate is being transferred (to London btw, and yes lucky her!) and I have to find a new place. I have for some time now been wanting to change apartments – we have put up with the same place, same cranky owner, same maid, same area for too long and a change is warranted. So this was an opportunity and I couldn’t chicken out on laziness.

The question now was – should I find a place all by myself? So I decided to do a survey and this was what I found out –

1. It would be way too lonely in the evenings and weekends. The evenings drag too long with no one to talk to.
This probably was not meant for people who work 14 hours a day, have dinner with a TV, and could go days without meeting their flatmate who also works 14 hours, if not more.

2. One friend had had a great time staying alone and in fact it had been his dream for a while. I was hoping for inspiration. He says, “It was nice. But would be nicer with a fun flatmate”.
OK! Needed one fun flat mate.

3. Now for the more serious feedback – for most women, when they were staying alone they had a boyfriend frequently visiting them. Sometimes it was also their parents, but mostly the boy friend.
So, it’s not really the same as living alone. It was just a matter of technicality.

4. My sister came out right and said ‘isn’t that a little weird?’
Ok. I can see where she is coming from. Still in her 4th year of college, she is probably planning house sharing plans in Bangalore (where she will take her job) and it probably didn’t occur to her that there will be a point when close friends are not so close by (location wise) any more.

But I thought that for other reasons. Are we judgemental of people, women in particular claiming to be ok of being alone?

But now that I think about it, several of my friends have lived alone at different points in time. When my flatmate in Hyderabad – the girl who couldn’t have eat lunch alone in an office cafeteria – took a place for herself, it was radical. And trust me,she lived it up. Another friend who took a place for herself was kicked about doing the place up and loved having a place of her own. For one friend, a place for herself was the highest kind of "evolution", if you can put it that way (well, except for her fear of staying alone). Another said that it would have been the natural choice.

So, maybe it could be liberating. Like the woman who buys flowers for herself and I’ve already done that once.

Maybe it’s just about being ok in your skin kind of thing. Believe that it’s no big deal ; and it really isn’t.

5. One said, ‘I was too young to be alone’.
How sweet. Is it an age thing? Do we become more ok with this sort of thing after an age? Or could this be an unavoidable option for some of us in the future? This scares me... I don’t think I want to accelerate this eventuality any further than I have to.

So, here I am going through all this emotional and psychological upheaval about moving alone. And I forgot (how could I?) – it always comes back to the basic things. No no – its not facing my fear and all that blah. I’m talking money and exorbitant rents in Mumbai. All this drama and struggle before sorting out the most important question – will I be able to afford it?

Rains...

The monsoons are here again. Or almost. As I was walking down from my office, I stopped at this spot – almost like a vantage point – where I always like to take in the view of the rest of Hiranandani. I always liked this view, giving me a feel of standing on the outside and looking inside. With the rains, the view was all the more beautiful – the fogginess from the light drizzle almost adding a mystical air to the view. I know- monsoons in Mumbai are not to be looked forward to. But before the torrential downpours, the clothes that wont dry, the room that is flooded, the walls that are damp, the days where you get soaked, but before all that, that is inevitable begins, before the daily wars that we would eventually have to wage, can I just say...

...I love the smell of the damp earth signalling the imminent monsoons (even though there is a lack of damp earth in some places, the rains still seems to be able evoke their earthy smell for concrete!), love the moist breeze which breaks the monotonies of the days, and love the feeling of change around the corner (– who knows what it may bring). The rains have been teasing us for the last couple of weeks – will it or will it not today. But until they do, it’s good to take in the moment. ‘Cos, this too shall pass.

Caught by the rain in the not so distant past, Singapore

Lost in One Art

This poem has been weighing on my mind for the past one week. For no reason, yet, for some reason.

One Art, by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
..........................................
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

I wonder if ‘losing’ really does get easier...

When I saw the movie AND read the book, I liked the poem quite a bit. But it takes a melancholic mood to really, really, feel it I suppose. The other poem in the book is also beautiful. On reflection, not so much for the words, more for the moment where one sister reads it for the other. And for all that the moment signifies.

I carry your heart with me, by EE cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
............................................
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Such sombre thoughts for a Friday night! On more mortal affairs, my trip has been extended by a week. So, lots of options for the weekend – Mcritchie reservoir, may be the ECP... or may be just blogging and reading. Will have to wait and see what the morning brings.

PS: The book is ‘In her shoes’ – not brilliant, but definitely a favourite.

Puppy Love

Well, I am just back from a weekend in good old Hyderabad filled with a whole dose of puppy love. My friend R with whom I stayed has this incredibly adorable Lhasa Apso ‘Tipu’ and I just can’t get over him. The way he stands poised, waiting at the door when he hears someone coming in, the way he sniffs and prances around you, gauging and measuring a new-comer, the way he keeps running up and down the house checking to make sure every one if ok, the way he was relishing his single cube of panneer, the way his front locks falls over his eyes – the list of his ‘adorable ways’ is endless.

Darling Tipu

Sunday morning, as I drowsily woke up to answer the maid on my tea preference, I could feel a cuddly ball of fur sitting on my bed and nosing around me; I reached out and gave him a huge bear hug and may have scarred him of (:)) in return – but it was one of the best wakeup calls I’ve had in a really long time!

Tipu looking out of the car on his way to his walk

I confess – I am not one of those ardent dog-people, who seem to have their way with even the scariest beasts. I am easily scared by a dog that barks a ton at me or just looks daunting in many cases. But still, there is that idealization of the simplistic yet unconditional love and faithfulness of a four legged friend. (All selfish, but nevertheless there :)).

As they say in Marley and Me, “A dog doesn't care if you are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.”

On the travel front, a couple of days of re-discovering Hyderabad and some photos, my first sleeper bus travel, a few thoughts on a recent trip to Vasai fort, a still pending 2009 resolution and an upcoming Singapore trip. Lots to write about – I hope they will all make it to the blog!

Postcard from Italy

Postcard from Italy

A Postcard for Me

Look what came in the mail this week - a postcard all the way from Portofino, Italy! Not the e-mail one, but full with postage, delivered by mail man kind of one! To be honest, I thought postcards must have been a wiped out art of sorts by now. The last time I got a postcard-from-between-a-trip was from a friend when she was visiting her brother in the US back in college. As a kid, when we used to travel – we referring to my family – we always used to pick up postcards in nice places, but definitely never mailed them to anybody. May be they were just keepsake buys!

It is so nice and fun to dash off a postcard, just scribbling a few thoughts that take you in that moment. Thanks Sriram! He writes, “Portofino is famous with celebrity tourists for its yachts’, sailboats and beaches. Good place to be in for an expensive holiday!”

Monotonity... and Then This!

The week has been horrible. Monotonous. A sense of restlessness weighed down only by inertia. Sometimes, you just indulge in a bout of boredom hiding under the excuse of purposelessness of everything. From drinking coffee to reading a book to planning a vacation. It was scary for a while, that just for the few days of doldrums, nothing spiked my interest or energy levels.

And then this arrived.

I recently decided to join the library service launched by my company (aah, I wouldn't call it a return to normalcy yet, but more the 'the ship is sinking, but we'll make your last moments very pleasurable!' effort). All we need to do is log in and place our orders - and the book is deleivered to ur doorstep - all wrapped perfectly in glass paper. Ahh the pleasure of ripping apart the cover - feels like it's gift opening time everytime! Anyways - this one just arrived today, and I have hardly been able to contain myself. May be, just may be, this would be my summer destination of 2009.

Reminds me - time I started making a wishlist!

Memories from Yesteryears

Last weekend, my sis and I were rummaging through some of cartons at home, all ready to be shifted into the new home when I caught sight of my slam books from school. I couldn't remember the last time I had laid eyes on them and of course we stopped midway through the rummaging to dig into memories of yesteryear's.

A lots of things that I couldn't remember - a really long long emotional 'won't ever lose touch' goodbye from my best friend... and no we haven't. :) Lesser emotional write-ups from others. Called a hard nut to crack by one, impulsive by another. Unbelievably, I have actually added slots in my slam book for classmates to fill in their crushes, the boys they were teased with and their embarrassing moments. What's more interesting is that all my friends have with dedication filled those out - priceless !

I had also filled the first page out in a 'this book belongs to me, and a bit about me' fashion (no, i didn't fill in my crushes or my embarrassing moments), but interestingly I have written that I want to travel the world. And I just can't remember wanting it back then. Of course, I was totally jealous when a friend went to the US for a whole summer vacations and she wasn't even half as excited as I was. And I was always the first to line up for school excursions - turtle walks, trekking in Himalayas, Lakshadweep. Of course, I also wanted to be a computer engineer... hehe, and we all know how that dream turned out!

Anyways, always fun to look back.

note to self: scan pics fron the by gone age. Can't be forgetting what I used to be!

Through Coffee and Chaos, We Made History

In a matter of days, my world has been turned 360 degrees several times around and if possible upside down as well. It would be unreal and unnatural and just, well, unreal for me to carry on with my Ladakh trip accounts, without making a note of these events – which have left their mark on not just my life but I would think world financial history as well. Hell, for all you know, I could be a part of a HBR case study – alright, may be the part that gets lost between the lines, but definitely a part. So, in the duty of dutifully recording the most important events in my life, here I go.

You may be aware (honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you weren't), we just witnessed what could be THE financial crisis of "our time". Yes, I hear people are talking about this debacle in the same breath as 9/11. (:) (I know I joke, but it is not every day that you are a part of something this big, even if it is big in a screwed up kind of way!) And I have been a spectator, but a spectator from the inside simply from the virtue of being employed in one of these firms. The recent demise of my firm however has of course drawn me from the audience right into the battle field.

It all started two weeks ago when we saw our public standing see a rapid descent in a matter of days. While the gods convened, we, the lesser mortals remained glued to our screens tracking the minutest flickers in the pulse of our survival, and the craziest of speculations, all the while wondering, and actually joking about our future. Time was filled with rounds of coffees, meetings and discussions. By Friday, we knew. From “business as usual”, we had progressed on to “business no more”. I find myself, once again, seeking refuge under the word “unreal” to describe the mood, but unreal it was.

September 15th, Monday. That morning brought a whole dose of reality. Hearing “I am sorry” from my boss was not the best wake up call I have had in years. We were left to the only other choice available – to break ourselves into parts and put each up for sale. The days that followed have been the most surreal of all – clearing and saving the remnants of our past. Coffee and discussions continuing ....

Just as each passing day has brought new developments, it has also brought about a change in our attitude and standing. We have been disappointed by what we believed in. For all the one firm philosophy that was brandished, it was the each man for his own attitude that survived. The bright spots have been the support and concern extended by the people we work with and friends.

As for me, I still wait. Out of pure inertia and nothing more. (And of course the absence of enticing job offers at the moment - and not for the lack of trying!) This definitely puts a spoke into my 2-year plan (or rather at least 2-year plan). However, all is not over - not yet. And of course, I continue to worry that I have still not had the opportunity to brandish my photos from Ladakh...

This and That

Long time no see. I am kind of brimming with things to say, of things which are of importance in the context of enriching your day and at the same time not so important from a larger than life perspective.

Before I start my ramble – no, these are not really travel things, ‘cos though some don’t seem to realize it, I have a job to do and unfortunately, a job that doesn’t have too much linked to travel, unless of course it’s the incidental kind, and like a lesser mortal, need a lot of my weekends for boring activities like sleep, sleep some more, hopefully read and of course watch desperate housewives. I know I started a travel blog and all, and did a glorious and seemingly adventurous trip, but starting of a conversation with “hey – so where are u these days”, as if I may be in Timbuktu (not that I don’t wish I were, though Macchu Picchu is more on my list these days) or “so, how come no trips anymore?”, as if ‘travel’ were my sole reason for existence, would definitely be taking my interest in this pass time too far ( though, I am ofcourse flattered witout doubt!). :)). And realistically speaking, I lack company to make even the easiest of trips – like to Goa – I know, sounds unbelievable, the gal that conquered Sikkim has yet to set eyes on Goa (at least at an age that counts which renders my trip in class 4 with mom, dad and sis uncountable), but that’s life or so some say.

So, yes, my travel "visibility" for the year does indeed look bleak, except for escapes to Chennai.

Incidentally, talking about travel, my lead analyst was in Barcelona last week for a conference. Sounds exotic huh? Or so I thought a year back when I was getting interviewed and my collegue mnetioned that my boss was in Barcelona. Anyway, it appears that it may take years before I get to go. Plus, not sure if I want to after talking to my boss. He's been there for 5-6 times now, and he pretty much hasnt seen anything beyond the hotel where he stays and the conference center. And the airport. And same applies for Shangai, Seoul and Taipei. So much for work travel!

Anyway, now for some aforementioned common place topics.

I have opened my eyes to a Bombay I didn’t know. A late night drive in search of ‘rock bottom’ (into which we were denied entry as we lacked socks which would have seemingly covered otherwise uncovered feet, and would have been deemed as better character assessment over our weighty visiting cards) – and I lay my eyes on almost the entire stretch of linking road. Furhter exploration of Khar/linking road leads me to decide that this is the place to live in. And yea, shop in as well if you have a loaded purse.

Few weekends before, I landed up in Matunga – the “Southie Mumbai” not to be mistaken with ‘South Mumbai’. Never has the sight of Nalli Silk Sarees made me feel more at home than it did then. And, yea, I ended up buying a sari over there as well (possibly, making me the only south Indian who sought to look for a Kancheepuram silk sari in Mumbai when I was leaving for Chennai in a couple of weeks). Well, the shop was small, with lesser options than the original (incidentally, this Nalli is not the same as orginal Nalli in Chennai, too many sari shops going by the name Nalli, have they run out of names or what?), but the few saris they had were quite nice, and I managed to like 3 of ‘em! And of course the hot pongal vadai, and masal dosai meal all for less than 25/- that we had on the road side- definitely unmatchable.

Anyway, inspired, I managed to track down a ‘dosa atta vendor’ who will deliver fresh atta with six hours lead time. Got my maid to make thakali vengaya chutney as well as urulakezhangu masala. The ease with which a crisp dosa rolls of your non stick pan with a dash of oil – I may even consider taking up cooking again. Anyways, getting my maid to do some south indian dishes, and i feel like i have accomplished something!

I unfortunately missed the Kala Ghoda festival, which is quite talked about. But am headed for the elephanta festival today. Food stalls, night lights and pictures!!!So, yeay!

Anyway, I am tired of rambling - but rest assured, I have begun to accept life as is in BBy!

When life was a one long summer

The description on a photo exhibit in the NY library

It’s interesting what thoughts take you, when you lie back on your oversized beanbag and have nothing better to do but let your mind wander. Today, actually for some days now, my thoughts have been running away to summers. Summers, despite all the heat and humidity, bring out the best in me. And the welcome of summer, a lightness to my life. Anyways, for some reason - the summers at this house kept coming back.

We had just moved into this new house a few months back. It was one of those regular rectangular houses, with a portico and a small garden in the front and bigger one in the back. Looking back, my father with his intention to fancy the house up, may have inadvertently removed some of the old-day charm in it. Next to our house, was another old bungalow with its colonial style intact? I loved this house. With the old red cement flooring, slightly high roofs, and two dominating columns in the veranda - it was a house I looked on from the outside and dreamt off. The walls were bordered with bougainvillea and there were lots of trees, but nothing organised. The whole house had a 'rambling' feel about it. Its occupant was an old lady, 'Shantha aunty'. She had never married and for a long time had stayed alone. The stray cats in her house were company until another friend came along.

It was summer holidays. A warm afternoon. I can’t remember how old I was, but it was my birthday. I was in this white frock with pink flowers - I loved this dress. Sadly, I don’t believe I have any photos of this one at all. I remember standing on the bench in our portico, and looking over the wall and talking to Shantha aunty -I was telling her how I had been ill the previous day. Sometimes, I’d balance myself on the Neem tree, which broke the compound wall, to talk to her - or to climb over to her house.

She would invite me and my sister to "pick" nellikai (small sized gooseberries), and we of course would end up eating more than picking. We'd spend afternoons making custard, jelly and pudding - dishes only read off till then. Once, when one of her cats had kittens, me and my sis (in one of the rare moments we were united against my parents) picked up one of the kittens, and tried to make a pet of it. I can’t remember how that one ended - but my parents most likely asked us to give it back.

I liked my house too, despite its lack of style. I loved climbing the compound walls. My room on the first floor was like my own private quarters. It made me feel all grownup to have a room. I used to keep lifting furniture from the rest of the house to 'do up' my room. The large kitchen - warm and well, large. There used to be an outhouse- cold and damp. During summer vacations, when I was steeped in famous fives and five findouters, I’d pretend it was the "secret headquarters". I in fact had a password when my cousins were around and we'd play detective. Since we had our own private terrace, we started the habit of making vadams. I also liked the balcony, partly covered by the Neem tree. On many a hot nights, we had dinners here.

We went through a whole life full here, but most of all, I remember the summers. Rather, life itself seemed like one long summer. Picking mangoes. Gardening or at least trying to (nobody in my family seems to have been gifted with green fingers). Running around the house. My grand mom and sis spending hours playing the daya kattai (ludo) or pallanguzhi (a game with shells). Me, either pouring over some book, or getting burnt in the sun cycling with my friends. Standing outside the house, and having long talks with friends. And fights with my sister. Once she was so wild, she actually got the aruval and threatened to hit me. And of course, spending time at Shantha aunty's house.

We lived there for almost 8-9 years. Even after we moved out, everytime I went by the lane, I’d look at the house or both houses and think it seemed like a dream that we had lived here. Today neither house is around. Instead, there's a huge apartment in their place. Right in your face and unreal.