So this morning sis sent a forward. I found it funny and forwarded it further to a few friends. This was the subsequent email conversation between friend V and me:
On Sun, Oct 10, 2010 at 11:46 AM, V wrote:
BLASPHEMY!!!!!!!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 12:15 PM, Archana wrote:
Oh no - does this mean I am going to be smote by lightning anytime soon :-P??
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 12:32 PM, V wrote:
God is very angry with you right now .
You know which God, dont you... dont you, infidel?
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 1:10 PM, Archana wrote:
Um - are you talking about Jesus? One likes to be clear about such things so that when one is about to be smote by lightning one knows which name to ask for mercy.
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 1:30 PM, V wrote:
no, idiot - Jesus is the son of God, not God! - duh!
just God - English God!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 1:46 PM, Archana wrote:
Why English God? Huh, huh? Why this racism? That too, for a forward forwarded in India. Hmph. Racist Gods!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 1:49 AM, V wrote:
Ufff - it is the official language!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 2:26 PM, Archana wrote:
No dummy I was referring to English as in the race. Not English as in the language. Doh!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 2:52 PM, V wrote:
English is not a race.. Doher!!
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 3:37 PM, Archana wrote:
Um - so explain the term Englishman.... Dohest!!!
Much later:
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 7:07 PM, V wrote:
Yea.. there was no comeback for dohest. So I slept and took a shower instead.
On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 7:40 PM, Archana wrote:
Eeeehaw .....
*Archana does a victory lap around her Gmail Inbox*
*****
And they say you get more mature as you get older. Right!
In case you are wondering, this is the forward which started it all:
There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was
Black:
1. He called everyone brother
2. He liked Gospel
3. He didn't get a fair trial
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was
Jewish:
1. He went into His Father's business
2. He lived at home until he was 33
3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure He was God
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was
Italian:
1. He talked with His hands
2. He had wine with His meals
3. He used olive oil
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was a
Californian:
1. He never cut His hair
2. He walked around barefoot all the time
3. He started a new religion
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was an
American Indian:
1. He was at peace with nature
2. He ate a lot of fish
3. He talked about the Great Spirit
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was
Irish:
1. He never got married..
2. He was always telling stories.
3. He loved green pastures.
But the most compelling evidence of all -
3 proofs that Jesus was a woman:
1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there was virtually no food
2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just didn't get it
3. And even when He was dead, He had to get up because there was still work to do
AMEN!!
p.s. All of this is in fun. So please to not come after me wielding pitch-forks.
p.s.1 First installment of conversations here.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Friday, October 08, 2010
Archives
I doubt anyone remembers the days of yore when 25MB of email account space was a great big deal. I love holding onto paper letters, greeting cards and any other form of personal communication. Ask my long-suffering mom about the big bags of memorabilia hogging space at home which has every single card and letter I have ever personally received in my life. No big wonder then that, when the Internet age arrived, I hated deleting any of my emails as well.
Unfortunately, due to email space limitations (25MB), I got constant nagging reminders from all my free email accounts to please make space. Though I did try making backups before deletion, many of my electronic communications from this transition period - when people were writing paper letters less and less and at the same time, email accounts though free, came with space limitations - were lost forever.
Soon I realized that I really wanted to save emails and hit upon the idea of e-groups. I diligently created one for my immediate family and one each for each of my close circle of friends. Then it would not matter if I had to delete emails from my account - the e-groups archives still would hold all the communications.
I did not realize then that I was creating a very awesome source of timepass. Several years later, though some of the e-groups had become mostly inactive, I still loved going back to the e-group archives occasionally and reading about how my life had been back then. Some of the emails are utterly hilarious and I laugh out loud (as I did the very first time I read them and as I did upon the subsequent n readings) and some of them make me wonder why on earth some particular thing mattered so much back then. And then there are those emails reading which I am filled with relief that I have put some things behind me. Irrespective of the feeling reading an individual email evokes, ultimately, reading pld emails delights me no end.
How could I not talk about Google here? The great company which first allowed my own email account inbox to be used as an archive instead of having to create groups.
I can be loyal to a fault. But when my first-ever email account, Hotmail, refused to follow suit even after a couple of months of Google's 1GB storage space arrival, I switched to GMail and never looked back. So now I have every personal email anyone ever sent me since late 2004 (I told you I am a hoarder). Not that every email is worth storing but hey, haven't each one of them contributed in some way, big or small, to who I am today?
Google then upped the ante with GChat. Now I could also archive every conversation I had online. I was officially in Hoarder Heaven.
Now I have a dual source of timepass when I am so inclined - the e-group archives and my gmail inbox. It is fun to read. I never realized I was such a emoticon junkie back then. I still am, to a certain extent, but my emoticon usage then was really excessive! Reading the conversations I have had with various people at various points in time is even better entertainment. Some of those people I no longer even keep in touch with it either by choice or because life happened. But some conversations bring back big twinges of nostalgia. It was great fun when they happened and I miss having such conversations now. But like Somerset Maughman said:
Another great joy of digging into old emails is rediscovering old forwards and youtube videos (I mean the interesting kind. Even hoarder me deletes the unbearable ones pronto). Some gems never get old.
Moral of this post is: iI you have time to kill and are an avid emailer, discover the entertainment your inbox has to offer if you have not already done so! And rejoice that the 25MB space limitation firmly belongs to the ancient ages now.
Unfortunately, due to email space limitations (25MB), I got constant nagging reminders from all my free email accounts to please make space. Though I did try making backups before deletion, many of my electronic communications from this transition period - when people were writing paper letters less and less and at the same time, email accounts though free, came with space limitations - were lost forever.
Soon I realized that I really wanted to save emails and hit upon the idea of e-groups. I diligently created one for my immediate family and one each for each of my close circle of friends. Then it would not matter if I had to delete emails from my account - the e-groups archives still would hold all the communications.
I did not realize then that I was creating a very awesome source of timepass. Several years later, though some of the e-groups had become mostly inactive, I still loved going back to the e-group archives occasionally and reading about how my life had been back then. Some of the emails are utterly hilarious and I laugh out loud (as I did the very first time I read them and as I did upon the subsequent n readings) and some of them make me wonder why on earth some particular thing mattered so much back then. And then there are those emails reading which I am filled with relief that I have put some things behind me. Irrespective of the feeling reading an individual email evokes, ultimately, reading pld emails delights me no end.
How could I not talk about Google here? The great company which first allowed my own email account inbox to be used as an archive instead of having to create groups.
I can be loyal to a fault. But when my first-ever email account, Hotmail, refused to follow suit even after a couple of months of Google's 1GB storage space arrival, I switched to GMail and never looked back. So now I have every personal email anyone ever sent me since late 2004 (I told you I am a hoarder). Not that every email is worth storing but hey, haven't each one of them contributed in some way, big or small, to who I am today?
Google then upped the ante with GChat. Now I could also archive every conversation I had online. I was officially in Hoarder Heaven.
Now I have a dual source of timepass when I am so inclined - the e-group archives and my gmail inbox. It is fun to read. I never realized I was such a emoticon junkie back then. I still am, to a certain extent, but my emoticon usage then was really excessive! Reading the conversations I have had with various people at various points in time is even better entertainment. Some of those people I no longer even keep in touch with it either by choice or because life happened. But some conversations bring back big twinges of nostalgia. It was great fun when they happened and I miss having such conversations now. But like Somerset Maughman said:
Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it. ... We can none of us step into the same river twice, but the river flows on and the other river we step into is cool and refreshing too.So true, no?
Another great joy of digging into old emails is rediscovering old forwards and youtube videos (I mean the interesting kind. Even hoarder me deletes the unbearable ones pronto). Some gems never get old.
Moral of this post is: iI you have time to kill and are an avid emailer, discover the entertainment your inbox has to offer if you have not already done so! And rejoice that the 25MB space limitation firmly belongs to the ancient ages now.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Let there be light
With moving to a new place comes a new set of things to learn. Which switch turns on which light or fan. Which direction the taps need to be turned to make the water flow (my sense of direction in this regard is totally screwed now). Which keys to use for the front door locks. Thus, I am currently getting used to our new home.
The first time we stayed overnight at our new place, I was in bed before S. Reading at least a few sentences, lying on my side on the bed, book or magazine in hand, before going to sleep is my long established and cherished routine. Sometimes, when the book is too darn interesting, this has lead to almost night-outs as I devour page after page, helplessly unable to put the book down. I later pay for this enthusiasm in the form of bleary eyes and zombie mode the next day. The last time this happened was with book two of the Millenium series. I really liked the series, especially the heroine. I think Zooey Deschanel would make an excellent Lisbeth Salander for the movie version. Okay, I have totally digressed. Back to the story now.
Where was I? Yes, so, I was in bed and reading some book away to glory when S walked in. S is one of those weird people (seriously, how do you do that?) who has to have the lights off as soon as his head hits the pillow so he can go off to zzzz-land. Now you know why I try to go to bed earlier: to get my nightly reading fix.
So, S marched in, settled down in the bed and asked me to turn off the lights. I told him that he would have to get out of bed and walk to the the switch-board across to do the honors.
I could see S's brain whirring. He was comfortably settled in bed and definitely did not want to get up again to go turn off the lights. On the other hand, I would most certainly not get up to go turn off the lights till I had read to my heart's content - which might wind up taking a very long time. I watched as he made his decision and reluctantly got up, switched off the light and then came and settled himself back into bed.
At the exact instant he let out a contented "I am comfortable" sigh, I lifted my arm and flicked on the dual-control light switch above my head. As light flooded the room again, the look on S's face was priceless. Obviously, I had known all along that the light had dual-controls and no walking across the room was needed.
I can be evil like that sometimes :-D.
The first time we stayed overnight at our new place, I was in bed before S. Reading at least a few sentences, lying on my side on the bed, book or magazine in hand, before going to sleep is my long established and cherished routine. Sometimes, when the book is too darn interesting, this has lead to almost night-outs as I devour page after page, helplessly unable to put the book down. I later pay for this enthusiasm in the form of bleary eyes and zombie mode the next day. The last time this happened was with book two of the Millenium series. I really liked the series, especially the heroine. I think Zooey Deschanel would make an excellent Lisbeth Salander for the movie version. Okay, I have totally digressed. Back to the story now.
Where was I? Yes, so, I was in bed and reading some book away to glory when S walked in. S is one of those weird people (seriously, how do you do that?) who has to have the lights off as soon as his head hits the pillow so he can go off to zzzz-land. Now you know why I try to go to bed earlier: to get my nightly reading fix.
So, S marched in, settled down in the bed and asked me to turn off the lights. I told him that he would have to get out of bed and walk to the the switch-board across to do the honors.
I could see S's brain whirring. He was comfortably settled in bed and definitely did not want to get up again to go turn off the lights. On the other hand, I would most certainly not get up to go turn off the lights till I had read to my heart's content - which might wind up taking a very long time. I watched as he made his decision and reluctantly got up, switched off the light and then came and settled himself back into bed.
At the exact instant he let out a contented "I am comfortable" sigh, I lifted my arm and flicked on the dual-control light switch above my head. As light flooded the room again, the look on S's face was priceless. Obviously, I had known all along that the light had dual-controls and no walking across the room was needed.
I can be evil like that sometimes :-D.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Follow up
When I made the move to India, a friend told me that the most important tool to I would need to settle down would be the ability to follow up. Though S was doing quite some running around even then, I was still in vacation mode and did not quite grasp the importance of that bit of advice. Now that I am in active settle down mode as well, I cannot believe just how much following up every single activity requires.
Example scenario: Placing an order for something.
Me: This is what I want. Can you please note down the order and deliver it within two days?
Salesperson: Sure, I will note it down as soon as I hang up.
Two days later.
Me: What happened to my order?
Salesperson: Oh, when did you order?
Me: Two days ago.
Salesperson: Oopz, it wasnt registered. No problem madam, now I have noted it down.
Two more days later.
Me: I hope you are sending my order today.
Salesperson: Madam, sorry, somehow we missed it.
Me: !@#$%^*(!*
Salesperson: I really apologize. I will definitely send it to you in two days.
Yet another two days later.
Finally it arrives. Turnaround time for a 2-day thing is usually a minimum of 6 days.
-----
Now imagine doing this for every single thing - be it a gas connection or an internet connection or a plumber visit or a product demo or anything which involves depending on someone other than yourself. Do you wonder why I have lost half my hair due to sheer frustration?
Being out of India for close to 10 years has made me forget that this is how it happens in India. But seriously, who enjoys doing this? How come things which are taken for granted in most of the rest of the civilized world become Herculean tasks in India?
And to think my biggest worry when I moved to India was thinking about the weather and the traffic. How laughable.
Example scenario: Placing an order for something.
Me: This is what I want. Can you please note down the order and deliver it within two days?
Salesperson: Sure, I will note it down as soon as I hang up.
Two days later.
Me: What happened to my order?
Salesperson: Oh, when did you order?
Me: Two days ago.
Salesperson: Oopz, it wasnt registered. No problem madam, now I have noted it down.
Two more days later.
Me: I hope you are sending my order today.
Salesperson: Madam, sorry, somehow we missed it.
Me: !@#$%^*(!*
Salesperson: I really apologize. I will definitely send it to you in two days.
Yet another two days later.
Finally it arrives. Turnaround time for a 2-day thing is usually a minimum of 6 days.
-----
Now imagine doing this for every single thing - be it a gas connection or an internet connection or a plumber visit or a product demo or anything which involves depending on someone other than yourself. Do you wonder why I have lost half my hair due to sheer frustration?
Being out of India for close to 10 years has made me forget that this is how it happens in India. But seriously, who enjoys doing this? How come things which are taken for granted in most of the rest of the civilized world become Herculean tasks in India?
And to think my biggest worry when I moved to India was thinking about the weather and the traffic. How laughable.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Mahabharata revisited
The Mahabharata is one of my favorite works of fiction (part fact?). It is a humongous work with countless interesting stories and sub-stories woven into it. To add even more variety, though the basic story remains the same, there are several different interpretations of it - which is total paisa vasool in terms of the number of reading experiences you can get for reading the what boils down to essentially one story.
The best part though, which makes the epic so engrossing, is that none of the characters are larger than life. Be it a mere human or a saint or even a God, none of the characters are flawless. Of course, their not-so-virtuous actions may sometimes be considered reasonable if the reasons behind them are examined. Still, the actions by themselves are not what the ideal, perfect character would have done. Which, according to me, is super-cool, since that is how the real world usually operates.
Not surprisingly, I have been waiting to read Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni's Palace of Illusions. It is the story of the Mahabharatha told from Draupadi's view point. A female perspective, how could I miss it?
I laid my hands on the book a couple of weeks ago. Finally, I got to read about how Draupadi felt about being married off to five men just because an old lady made some thoughtless comment or how she was stupefied about being made a stake in a game of dice. For the record, I still feel outraged whenever I think about how Yudishthir happily staked his wife as though she was a cow or about how his brothers were so bound-by-loyalty-to-the-elder-brother that they sat watching as their wife was humiliated. Evidently, women did not count for much those days (how glad I am that I was not born in that era).
As for the book, some of the turn of phrases were pretty neat. Some of the passages detailing Draupadi's thoughts as she juggled the various men in her life were downright hilarious. Draupadi herself is not portrayed to be a Mother India or a self-sacrificing ideal queen. She is a normal human being with normal human emotions and weaknesses. But in spite of her faults or maybe because of it, she emerges as a likeable character. After all, who cannot identify with a woman who is human enough to know that something is bad for her and yet persist to do it because, you know, it made her feel good at that instant?
I thought Draupadi's transformation from shy girl to stunning queen was a bit Bollywoodish (one song and hey, we have gone from beggars to zillionaires). Also, I thought her attraction towards Karna was a bit unconvincing and at times, it felt as though this attraction was being shoved down my throat. But I guess the author needed a new fulcrum around which the story could revolve. However, considering Draupadi has interesting takes about the various characters she meets, I wish more space had been devoted to those insights rather than harping upon her (non) relationship with Karna.
Overall though, I thoroughly enjoyed reading the book and would certainly recommend it. Women readers would probably enjoy it more. Palace of Illusions has now whetted my appetite for the Mahabharata and I am looking forward to picking up a different interpretation soon. Any suggestions?
The best part though, which makes the epic so engrossing, is that none of the characters are larger than life. Be it a mere human or a saint or even a God, none of the characters are flawless. Of course, their not-so-virtuous actions may sometimes be considered reasonable if the reasons behind them are examined. Still, the actions by themselves are not what the ideal, perfect character would have done. Which, according to me, is super-cool, since that is how the real world usually operates.
I laid my hands on the book a couple of weeks ago. Finally, I got to read about how Draupadi felt about being married off to five men just because an old lady made some thoughtless comment or how she was stupefied about being made a stake in a game of dice. For the record, I still feel outraged whenever I think about how Yudishthir happily staked his wife as though she was a cow or about how his brothers were so bound-by-loyalty-to-the-elder-brother that they sat watching as their wife was humiliated. Evidently, women did not count for much those days (how glad I am that I was not born in that era).
As for the book, some of the turn of phrases were pretty neat. Some of the passages detailing Draupadi's thoughts as she juggled the various men in her life were downright hilarious. Draupadi herself is not portrayed to be a Mother India or a self-sacrificing ideal queen. She is a normal human being with normal human emotions and weaknesses. But in spite of her faults or maybe because of it, she emerges as a likeable character. After all, who cannot identify with a woman who is human enough to know that something is bad for her and yet persist to do it because, you know, it made her feel good at that instant?
I thought Draupadi's transformation from shy girl to stunning queen was a bit Bollywoodish (one song and hey, we have gone from beggars to zillionaires). Also, I thought her attraction towards Karna was a bit unconvincing and at times, it felt as though this attraction was being shoved down my throat. But I guess the author needed a new fulcrum around which the story could revolve. However, considering Draupadi has interesting takes about the various characters she meets, I wish more space had been devoted to those insights rather than harping upon her (non) relationship with Karna.
Overall though, I thoroughly enjoyed reading the book and would certainly recommend it. Women readers would probably enjoy it more. Palace of Illusions has now whetted my appetite for the Mahabharata and I am looking forward to picking up a different interpretation soon. Any suggestions?
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Chennai weather and its effects
I had forgotten that Chennai air is very humid. So much so, moisturizer-girl a.k.a me (see point 8 here), does not even need to moisturize quite so much any more. I maintained my long-perfected moisturizer routine (quite simple, moisturizer any time, all the time) for three whole days after my arrival in Chennai. After which, a number of hitherto unseen break-outs happened over my face. Ardent moisturizing then came to a screeching halt. Now I have dumped all my heavy creams, lotions and washes for lighter and much lesser stuff and no longer stock every room with ample moisturizer. Sigh. What a sad loss for the moisturizer industry.
But, one industry's loss is another industry's gain. Within a few hours of arrival in Chennai, my hair texture started giving major competition to coconut-fibres across the country. No matter how smoothly I combed my hair, within an hour, tendrils of hair would start creeping all around my head. Not to mention the rough look my whole head would take on. Remember Monica from friends? Aaaaaargh. After seeing for myself that this battle would not be won easily, if at all, I gave in and straightened my hair at the parlour after parting with $$$. Still, considering that, skin-wise, I have never been more happy, that too with so little effort, I think I am still coming out tops. Hurrah!
That said, Chennai does get really hot at times. And it is not even summer! I am still training myself to turn on the fan in any room even if I plan to be in it only for some time. I have figured that it takes a very, very short time to feel very, very hot. Hopefully, by the time summer rolls around, I will be acclimatized enought to not completely evaporate. Amen to that.
Finally, did you folks hear about the unseasonal heavy rains in Chennai this August/September? You must have also heard this saying about how it rains where-ever good people go? And of course, you know that I relocated to Chennai this August. Have you connected the dots yet :-P?
That wraps up the weather update from here.
That said, Chennai does get really hot at times. And it is not even summer! I am still training myself to turn on the fan in any room even if I plan to be in it only for some time. I have figured that it takes a very, very short time to feel very, very hot. Hopefully, by the time summer rolls around, I will be acclimatized enought to not completely evaporate. Amen to that.
Finally, did you folks hear about the unseasonal heavy rains in Chennai this August/September? You must have also heard this saying about how it rains where-ever good people go? And of course, you know that I relocated to Chennai this August. Have you connected the dots yet :-P?
That wraps up the weather update from here.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
1 dalmatian
The first time I entered S's family's house, friendly faces greeted me from all around. Only one face growled at me. It belonged to Figo, the dalmatian of the house. He took one look at me and barked sharply. Then, he pointedly turned his tail to me and ran back into the house. S's family consoled me saying that this was Figo's normal reaction to strangers, especially females (I later saw for myself that this was not true).
Things did not improve as time went by. The second time I visited, Figo repeated the growl and turn-tail act. To mollify him and bribe him into being friends with me, I fed him bones and other canine delicacies. Figo being the smart dog that he is, ate all of it and then signed his disapproval of me with a bark before sauntering off. Same thing happened when I stroked his fur and belly. He would enjoy all the attention and the moment I stopped stroking him, would get up, growl and walk away!
According to me, this was the problem: S was the first person in his family who got acquainted with Figo. Figo, though a very mild-mannered dog, is jealous and possessive by nature. He loves his family with a passion and at the same time hates sharing them with anyone else. So my theory was, his doggy instincts somehow told him that I was someone who was going to be competing (!?! - en owner-thaan, enakku mattum thaan*) for S's attentions. Hence the extra animosity.
I know - this seems like too much thinking for a dog but seriously, the way Figo refused to enter S's room (Figo's erstwhile domain) while I was there and the way he took an extra effort to growl at me before turning his back whenever he saw me told its own the story.
This remained the status quo for all my past India visits. This time too, I entered S's family's house with some trepidation. I could not decide whether to feel sad for Figo or feel amused that he would finally have to start learning to put up with me considering that the my visits would be far more frequent now.
Imagine my pleasant surprise then, when upon seeing me, Figo jumped up and tried to put his paws on my shoulder and lick my face. This was a gesture he usually reserved to welcome people he liked a lot! Then he nuzzled my hand - which was his way to indicate that that he wanted me to pet him.
Either all my feeding and petting of the previous times had finally worked or Figo had resigned himself to acceptance. Either way, I was finally his friend!
The rest, as they say, is history. Figo now trusts me enough to routinely come and lay his head on my lap or contentedly lie down and sigh while I rub his tummy. He still responds to my calls only when he feels like it and plants his feet firmly on the ground if I try to move him when he does not feel like it. But hey, now I am his family too!
* my owner, only for me. A famous Tamil song of long ago had similar lyrics
Things did not improve as time went by. The second time I visited, Figo repeated the growl and turn-tail act. To mollify him and bribe him into being friends with me, I fed him bones and other canine delicacies. Figo being the smart dog that he is, ate all of it and then signed his disapproval of me with a bark before sauntering off. Same thing happened when I stroked his fur and belly. He would enjoy all the attention and the moment I stopped stroking him, would get up, growl and walk away!
According to me, this was the problem: S was the first person in his family who got acquainted with Figo. Figo, though a very mild-mannered dog, is jealous and possessive by nature. He loves his family with a passion and at the same time hates sharing them with anyone else. So my theory was, his doggy instincts somehow told him that I was someone who was going to be competing (!?! - en owner-thaan, enakku mattum thaan*) for S's attentions. Hence the extra animosity.
I know - this seems like too much thinking for a dog but seriously, the way Figo refused to enter S's room (Figo's erstwhile domain) while I was there and the way he took an extra effort to growl at me before turning his back whenever he saw me told its own the story.
This remained the status quo for all my past India visits. This time too, I entered S's family's house with some trepidation. I could not decide whether to feel sad for Figo or feel amused that he would finally have to start learning to put up with me considering that the my visits would be far more frequent now.
Imagine my pleasant surprise then, when upon seeing me, Figo jumped up and tried to put his paws on my shoulder and lick my face. This was a gesture he usually reserved to welcome people he liked a lot! Then he nuzzled my hand - which was his way to indicate that that he wanted me to pet him.
Either all my feeding and petting of the previous times had finally worked or Figo had resigned himself to acceptance. Either way, I was finally his friend!
The rest, as they say, is history. Figo now trusts me enough to routinely come and lay his head on my lap or contentedly lie down and sigh while I rub his tummy. He still responds to my calls only when he feels like it and plants his feet firmly on the ground if I try to move him when he does not feel like it. But hey, now I am his family too!
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Monday, August 23, 2010
Onam
One of the best things about marrying a person from a different regional background is that you get to celebrate more than the usual number of festivals to honor traditions from both regions. Other than learning about different customs you also get to eat more than the usual amount of yummy festival food.
So guess who is mighty thrilled that it is Onam today? Me, me, me! My very first Onam celebration - yaay! In the morning I prised my eyes open earlier than usual so I could go and asist my niece in drawing the "Poo-kolam". We had a great time decorating the floor with flowers - finally, lamps were also lit.
Looks gorgeous or what?
Besides dosas/chutney/kurma, these are the Onam special dishes I had for breakfast. Unniappams (those small puffed ovals) are something I have never had before - they are very tasty.
I had a super yummy lunch as well. Burp. And oh, I am dressed in the traditional Kerala cream-colored saree. Yup, my cup of joy overfloweth :-D!
p.s. Though S is technically a Malayali, he was born and brought up in Tamilnadu. So he is more Tam than Mallu. But happily for me, all the principal cooking members are true-blue Mallus - hehehhe.
So guess who is mighty thrilled that it is Onam today? Me, me, me! My very first Onam celebration - yaay! In the morning I prised my eyes open earlier than usual so I could go and asist my niece in drawing the "Poo-kolam". We had a great time decorating the floor with flowers - finally, lamps were also lit.
Looks gorgeous or what?
Besides dosas/chutney/kurma, these are the Onam special dishes I had for breakfast. Unniappams (those small puffed ovals) are something I have never had before - they are very tasty.
I had a super yummy lunch as well. Burp. And oh, I am dressed in the traditional Kerala cream-colored saree. Yup, my cup of joy overfloweth :-D!
Happy Onam to all :-)!
p.s. Though S is technically a Malayali, he was born and brought up in Tamilnadu. So he is more Tam than Mallu. But happily for me, all the principal cooking members are true-blue Mallus - hehehhe.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
August 15
For the past few weeks, the newspapers, TVs and radios are filled with special Independence day offers. I have also spotted Independence day decorations at various commercial establishments. Of course, special Independence day TV programs are lined up on the various TV channels with a much longer line-up of sponsors for those various programs.
What a far cry from the days when Independence day meant dragging yourself out of bed on a holiday just so that you could have the pleasure of seeing a "Chief-guest" hoisting the national flag at school followed by the highlight of the day: a single piece of candy doled out to each of the captive students once the flag hoisting and the national-anthem singing was done.
It has been thundering and raining out here in Chennai since morning today. Ain't I glad those going to school days are behind me! Instead, I can wrap my hands around a warm mug of chai and cozily settle down to watch the Independence day advertisements and their attendant programs on TV.
What a far cry from the days when Independence day meant dragging yourself out of bed on a holiday just so that you could have the pleasure of seeing a "Chief-guest" hoisting the national flag at school followed by the highlight of the day: a single piece of candy doled out to each of the captive students once the flag hoisting and the national-anthem singing was done.
It has been thundering and raining out here in Chennai since morning today. Ain't I glad those going to school days are behind me! Instead, I can wrap my hands around a warm mug of chai and cozily settle down to watch the Independence day advertisements and their attendant programs on TV.
Happy Independence Day :-)!
Friday, August 13, 2010
On the dark side
After the hugs and the cries of welcome, the first words my mom uttered upon seeing me and S were, "Why are you both so tanned?" Don't get me wrong. I have always belonged to the "curly hair, not so fair" species. I never been bothered about it either - perhaps I have been bothered about the curly hair part of it, as mentioned here. I used to get pretty pained when I saw the ads for fairness creams for women - who on earth mandated that being "fair" was the beauty ideal which Indian women should strive to attain? However, nowadays, I guffaw heartily when I see ads for fairness creams for *men*. Hahahah!
Anyway, I digress. Coming back to my story, I ruefully looked at mom and said, "I know. We got the first tan-coat at San Diego. Just when it was wearing off, we got a second, more-durable coat at New York city. This was followed by a third coat finish at Washington DC. By the time we reached Hong Kong, we were prepped and set for the final sealing coat."
July 2010 had been a month involving a lot of travel and sightseeing for us. While it was a lot of fun, it was also a lot of heat. I tell you, being in the Bay Area has spoiled me so much weather-wise. I imagined a similarly comfortable and pleasant summer in NYC and DC and was shocked to find that both the cities were giant ovens set at broil heat. Needless to say, we both were roasted and well-done by the time the trip was over. On the bright side, it prepped us well for the two days of Hong Kong sightseeing and for the current Chennai heat.
Now, some people, when they get tanned, get tanned evenly. So their entire skin takes on a nice, even, darker-hue. Not me, no siree. Instead, my skin gets tanned in splotches. So at the end of it all, I tend to look more like a human-cheetah or maybe a human-zebra than like a tanned-human. Sigh! Is it any wonder then that I tend to slather on copious quantities of sunscreen, at least on my face, before I go out into the sun?
Clearly, the sunscreen hadn't worked as well as I had hoped it would. So now, Mom has taken on "Operation De-tan Archu" with great alacrity. Every morning, she enthusiastically gives me a concoction of turmeric and cream (skimmed fresh off that morning's milk) - "to be applied right before showering". Then a cube of crushed papaya "to be applied to the face".
I strongly suspect that the only effect these rituals are having on me is to make me smell like day-old milk and old fruit-salad. Still, who can say no to such pampering?
Anyway, I digress. Coming back to my story, I ruefully looked at mom and said, "I know. We got the first tan-coat at San Diego. Just when it was wearing off, we got a second, more-durable coat at New York city. This was followed by a third coat finish at Washington DC. By the time we reached Hong Kong, we were prepped and set for the final sealing coat."
July 2010 had been a month involving a lot of travel and sightseeing for us. While it was a lot of fun, it was also a lot of heat. I tell you, being in the Bay Area has spoiled me so much weather-wise. I imagined a similarly comfortable and pleasant summer in NYC and DC and was shocked to find that both the cities were giant ovens set at broil heat. Needless to say, we both were roasted and well-done by the time the trip was over. On the bright side, it prepped us well for the two days of Hong Kong sightseeing and for the current Chennai heat.
Now, some people, when they get tanned, get tanned evenly. So their entire skin takes on a nice, even, darker-hue. Not me, no siree. Instead, my skin gets tanned in splotches. So at the end of it all, I tend to look more like a human-cheetah or maybe a human-zebra than like a tanned-human. Sigh! Is it any wonder then that I tend to slather on copious quantities of sunscreen, at least on my face, before I go out into the sun?
Clearly, the sunscreen hadn't worked as well as I had hoped it would. So now, Mom has taken on "Operation De-tan Archu" with great alacrity. Every morning, she enthusiastically gives me a concoction of turmeric and cream (skimmed fresh off that morning's milk) - "to be applied right before showering". Then a cube of crushed papaya "to be applied to the face".
I strongly suspect that the only effect these rituals are having on me is to make me smell like day-old milk and old fruit-salad. Still, who can say no to such pampering?
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