Friday, 29 January 2010

I did it my way

There was not much ado about things last couple of weeks, hence the silence of the blogs. Hate the fact that, barring once, my log has mostly stuck to two entries per month so thought of penning down a few Whooopie moments which were a result of some very un"me"like actions, which in turn were triggered off by indulging in spot of positive thinking and acting out my contemplations instead of well just contemplating, to make up for the sparse entry count. And as I am not so much a fan of resolutions or "I have to do" lists, so I am presenting to you some items of my "I did it/and still doing some" personal milestones of 09-2010 (these are in no particular order). So here goes:

  • Consciously thought of becoming fit and now acting upon it
  • Watching what I eat (not just when it is being prepared)
  • Walking (briskly, may I add) three miles a day when it was 2 degrees outside and with a wind cold enough to make breathing a task (maybe i will cross climbing a mountain off my list) (Smart asses can keep their opinion to themselves! Any one trying to dampen my spirit will be sent the evil eye!)
  • Baked a blackforest cake (please note - none of this in chronological order!)
  • Roasted a chicken
  • Begun volunteering, finally, after years of thinking about it
  • Got some photographs published
  • Started a blog
  • Got back in touch with the joys of meditation
  • Indulged in some honest retrospection
  • Cut loose some old ties, bad habits; wasn't pleasant but had to be done. But for once it was pick yourself up, dust off and move on
  • Lived/ing in London
  • Ushered in the new year atop London Bridge
  • Met/meeting people with varied interests and life goals, who are just like you and me but with fascinating stories to relate
  • Became a Twit (resisted it for so long... succumbing to this curiosity was the best online temptation to give into)
  • Met a 104-year-old lady, hoping to be invited to her 105th.
  • Began dieting
  • Heading to Glasgow in a few days
  • Bonded with my niece
  • Stopped complaining about most stuff
  • Swept, swabbed, tidied the house all by myself
  • Chopped aromatics after resisting the act for 28 years! Granny would be so proud
  • Read authors I never heard of/watched movies I wouldn't have bothered to earlier
  • Wrote hundreds of job applications and received and equal number of rejections and still not giving up
  • Felt gratitude for having a loving family
  • Feeling good to be me
  • Felt grateful for friends who stood by me no matter what
  • Made some awesome new friends
  • Up against the next big challenge after the summer of 2008, when things were really down; once again not giving up. Perseverance paid off then, hoping for an encore. (V knows what I am talking about, we finally got married you see!)

Hmm... all in all a good year. Happy :)

Friday, 8 January 2010

"Bra"ve new world

I woke up to a very colour themed facebook front page today. Suddenly all women seemed to have gone, pink, black or red. Seemed too much of a coincidence even to my fogged brain (being 7 am and all that) and only after I read very excited messages from three dear friends did it all make sense to me. You see yesterday some one executed a novel scheme of getting breast cancer awareness going. Give out the colour of your bra and raise ahem, awareness...

Its genesis is unknown. All that we know is that it started on Thrusday evening and caught on like wild fire. While I am not sure of the campaign's efficacy, I do know now that my friends and friends’ friends have a very colourful chuddi drawer. (Having said that, black still rules for most).

Like I said, I don't quite know how far the colour outings will go in spreading awareness, but I came across the following and what the writer had to say seemed like a good idea to share.

So, while you’re peeking inside your shirt to see what color bra you are wearing so you can post it in your status update, go ahead and feel around in there, make sure there are no lumps. And if there are, call your doc for a clinical exam!


(I think more of us need to repost this.)


What I wanted to write about was not so much about the whys, whats and the wherefores of the campaign but wonder out loud as to what about the whole campaign caught the ladies’ imagination.

I am quite certain it was not all about spreading awareness about breast cancer… it was barely about breasts.

Was it about feeling empowered or was it pure fun… Or like a friend said, it was about expressing solidarity with all women.

The idea caught on with me because it was just so outrageous! For me it was not so much about creating awareness than a sense of adventure/conspirational glee... I can't quite put my finger on it.

I do not want this post to be taken as a feminist or social commentary of "our times" but something interesting that caught my eye and made me want to write about it. But it did make me think how the idea of feminism seems to have moved away from the days of bra burning (though I am apprised of the fact that no bras were actually burnt prior to the coining of the term). Today it was not about “Sunday is longer than Monday”; today women wore their bra on their sleeve (a figure of speech mind you.) And the bolder the colour the braver you were.

This undercover expose is in stark contrast to the times when upon seeing a bra strap peeping out innocently, the shirt/top/kurta’s shoulder was hastily straightened to by a concerned colleague (female of course) or mom or aunt or sister. Or those seemingly nonchalant but curious one shoulder shrugs (pointing out the culprit side), and a casual patting of that particular shoulder to indicate a prison escape in a meeting. (This has to be one of the funniest sights ever… A meeting is on and from the far side you locate a colleague doing a one shoulder Macarena to tell you that your strap is out…). But today it was all out.

I have never before thought of this piece of clothing as anything more than a means of support and defying the effects of gravity for as long as possible. But today, under all the fun and mirth it created I thought i detected a glint of defiance.

Maybe I am looking for depths that don’t exist or am I on to something. Do let me know what you guys think (men included).

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

My way or the highway

I love my husband. Did I ever tell you that? No?! Oh dear. So here I go saying it (again) I love my husband. He is one man who has utter and pure confidence in my abilities! There is nothing that I can do right (well that’s an exaggeration) Let’s rephrase that. He believes that ANYTHING that goes wrong, I am the reason behind it!

Socks missing: my fault. He forgot to turn the hob off when he was cooking rice: my fault, because I should have reminded him. My computer’s screen broke (because he fell one it): my fault, I should have shut the flap; Rains failed in Rajastahan, I was to balme, no rubber was tapped in Kerala… you get it, right. So supreme is his confidence in my abilities to wreak havoc that his mental faculties get too clouded to accept the obvious.

Not too long ago we moved into a new apartment. It came with all fittings and appliances. Along with it also came an unfathomable washing machine. After many a trial and error and three laundry disasters later we finally figured it out. It was during one of those washing emergencies we clashed. I thought I had fixed the bloody contraption and we had with us a clean load; while he pointed out that it wasn’t so. Evidence: his (torn) jeans which still had muddy stains on them. With incriminating evidence in front of me, I acquiesced that it did seem to be the case and came to the conclusion that the machine was still acting up.

Now anyone would thing matters ended there, but NO. Patidev suggested that I had forgotten to put the piece of clothing in the machine. I calmly replied that such wasn’t the case. I got a smirk for a reply. Now any man who’s observed women long enough would know that a SMIRK goes a long way in fanning very negative passions in the most calm of matronly souls. And I am but one!

With many a suppressed emotions, I reiterated that the confounded pair had indeed seen the inside of the washing machine and due to mechanical malfunction of the latter came out unwashed. Again, anyone in their right minds, would let it go. But not my warrior prince from the jungles of central Travancore.

Cutting a long story short and blazing row ensued. As again, I was held blameworthy, while the blasted washing machine escaped unscathed!

Most times when there is peace, there is perfect understanding. Till of course comes the next fight. In those times, tails he wins, heads I lose (literally as well!). Imagine being stuck in this conundrum when you have grown up in a house where you were accused of assuming you were always right! Gosh that takes for a lot of adjusting.

The hubby for all this darling ways, like I proved, is convinced that I am mostly wrong, on some rare occasions, when I am not wrong we are both right. Every time I get stuck in this conundrum I think of The Box. Before you think that some metaphysical lecture that is coming your way, relax. It is a movie that I am talking of. The film held much promise and delivered as far as I was concerned but others disagreed ("others" being the husband), which is surprising and I will tell you why. If you took off the science-fiction and psychological garb off it, the plot was fairly simple. Women cause trouble!

Given his predisposition of presenting me with the blame, this should have been his favourite movie! Which it isn’t and oh yes, I was blamed for choosing it :/

Monday, 4 January 2010

The whole nine yards

Back when I started work at a newspaper I was introduced to the biggest, most boring of all editorial yawns called the year-ender. Through the years that I was working for publications, I hated it a wee bit more every year. Just before the end of 2009, I saw a lot of once-upon-a-time kindred souls of the newsroom lament the return of the annual chore (a pain in the a$% if ever there was one)*. There has never been a more useless way to waste newsprint. But there are those who can give you a clearer picture of how bad it can get, so let me launch into my true reason(s) to write.

Of course the first is to wish you all a great new year filled with chuckles, hugs, kisses, belly laughs, good hair days, lip smacking fares, kick ass jobs, happy endings, happier beginnings, rollercoaster rides, a bit of melodrama and a hot cuppa on the porch with good friends or a cold beer on a warm balmy evening, fortitude, courage and lots and lots of love.

And the second, having established why year-enders are mind numbing exercises invented only to torment the tortured soul of a reporter, I will proceed to inflict on you with one (of sorts) of mine... the only one till date that I would actually have filed in fifteen minutes flat without resorting to refer a past copy.

So back in 2009, on the 4th of January, there came an event when a boy and a girl who met in 2006 at a bar for a spot of breakfast, spent a small country's GDP on phone calls and flight tickets, bored of the "will he, won't she, will I, won't he" conundrum, decided to leg it to the unknown terrain- matrimony. (while there are many who believe that Jan the 4th is not THE wedding date, but we have a solution for that contention as well... more of that later).

Here I am taking stock of the year gone by and find that it's been a jolly ride, with as many ups as downs, strides into the unknown and goodbye to many things and relationships old. And I am happy to report that the balance of things is in the positive, despite the pile of laundry overflowing from the hamper or the dishes waiting to see a cleaner day or the snoring that is cutting its way through the blare of the television as I write, the walkouts and phone slamming, the libellous blogging. It's a fair trade off for all the love, support, laughter, wisdom, confidence, respect and gratitude I have received in the year gone by. V, on his end wants to add good food, clean clothes and pampering to the list!

All in all it's been a good one year... We will be reviewing this list when we celebrate our second anniversary which is just another six months away... You see with V and me normal is what others enjoy, we like our drama no holds barred (and that's why I volunteer that drama be added to the list of exciting things we got as one of our wedding gifts). Normal people have one anniversary per year. We celebrate it every six months. We got married twice... go figure! ( and that too to each other! Now if that's not love what is?). It's a standing joke in V's office, that he's been married twice, much to the consternation of a new colleague of V's who once very hesitatingly asked him why the the first one failed!

Most friends suggested we keep the first day we met as our anniversary dates but then one genius (LS, take a bow) came up with this novel solution. Oh and that also adds to the plus side of my list - double the number of presents and double the celebrations (I don't think V takes an identical view on this... too bad! :D)

Ah yes, so I declare it was a good one year and look forward to the next semester! Thank ye to all those who remembered us today and those who didn't, you will have another chance six months hence!

*P.S: And which is why I thought "hey why not pen one of my own...". Coherent and complete thoughts are not my forte you see.. and that's why you see this addition at a much later stage. (Jan 07 2010)