To a Rainy Diwali...

So...this has been my second Diwali away from home...but still the first one without new clothes, loads of home-made treats, crackers...and of course Dad's shagun money! :(

But it was still a nice Diwali as I had my mom with me! She flew in all the way from India to be with me on Diwali...and it was awesome! Agreed that I went to office, had the usual meetings, mails...and it din't make it easier that it rained non-stop for the entire day...but still, I had mom waiting for me with a sumptuous dinner when I got back to the apartment!

Hope everyone's Diwali was as special...and different as mine!

Vegetarische???

I don't know why there is a second consecutive post based on my culinary experiences! Maybe because I am the only lone vegetarian in any group of "n" people whom I meet here...wat is this world made of? Are there no vegetarians around?

Anyway, this particular episode has a prologue...so I will start with that. When we were en route to Paris, we decided to stop at Mannheim for a quick bite (dinner that is!). So we headed to the nearest fast-food store and started placing our orders. Poor me walked upto the counter and tried my best to convey to the girl that I needed a VEGETARISCHE burger...without chicken, meat, beef, pork, fish etc. Thankfully, that particular girl understood me and clearly explained that they do have a VEGETARISCHE burger with a potato and red kidney beans pattie! Yay! So I went ahead and promptly ordered one. When I received my order, I begged my friends to check out whether it was really a vegetarian one. They confirmed it and well, I went on to enjoy a really good meal. So...what went wrong here? Why did I make you read through this last para which has absolutley no twist or turn? Well, I told you! Its just the prologue... :)

So...now what? The main scoop of course!

Fast-forward to one week later...Me and my friend spent a blissful day of shopping and galivanting about the streets of Heidelberg and Mannheim. We returned to Heidelberg to find out that we had missed our bus to the Hotel by just a minute. Cursing and giggling, we staggered inside the Hauptbahnhof and tried to find something to eat. We saw a huge Burger King sign and promptly headed that way. Now, just so you know...this friend of mine is one of those rare vegetarians like myself. So being a good girl, I told her that we do get Veg burgers at Burger King and promptly headed the small party of two towards the entrance. We waited patiently in front of a queue of loud teenagers who looked more like the local urchins and finally reached the counter after a full 20 minutes! Confidently (but falteringly in my german) I told the guy behind the counter that I wanted "2 Vegetarische burgers". He looked at me a little skeptically and broke into a tirade of Deutsche...that was when my friend stopped him and asked if he spoke English. He flashed us a wide grin and this time, broke out in Butler English. So to cut a long story short, we got it through him and had our order processed. The bill came to € 3.70 (in total!) and I had this quick flash-back wherein I remembered chipping in € 3.99 per person for a similar order. I immediately started trying to remember all that we had eaten that day...

"Maybe because we had ordered pommes frites and coke? And maybe because we also took some Flurry-Joghurt..."

Before my mind could actually remember all this and answer them (to myself)...my friend was nudging me to ask if i needed Käse. On reflex, i said NO. But she was indulent with my diet that day and went ahead with an affirmative consoling me that: "giving in once in a while is good..." Oh, well! I went ahead with the wave and completely lost track of the unanswered questions in my head. We were served our burgers and we headed to the nearest table. Prattling non-stop about our shopping, we hardly cast an eye on the burger that we each put to our respective drooling mouths. The next moment, we both were looking at each other with an inexplicable, albeit similar, expression plastered on our faces. No no, no no...It wasn't non-vegetarian...it's just that...that...there was absolutely nothing in it!!!!!!

We set the so-called burgers down and looked between the two breads. Another moment later, we were roaring with laughter and almost out of breath! The so-called "Vegetarische Burger" had as its stuffing: one slice tomato, one slice Käse and a sad looking lettuce leaf...AND NOTHING ELSE!

So...wat did me and my friend learn from this? Never trust your half-baked German knowledge...and never, ever order a "Vegetarische Burger" unless the person at the counter understands and speaks good english!!!

How do I make tea? Let me count the ways…

I am sooo not a morning person. I hate to wake up early, unless and until I have some personal motive or gain behind it. Like, wanting to go to the malls early so that I can lose the crowd and the waiting…or wanting to have a leisurely and hot breakfast in my PG. As you can see, even these personal gain options are limited!

Taking my 7 o clock shuttle to office daily while I was in Bangalore was a Herculean task to me. How did I survive then?

Sitting through meeting that go on for hours and your updates are needed just 10 minutes before it closes…how did I survive that?

TP* during the free hour that we get in a work-day…how do I survive that?

Well…the universal answer to all this is, for me, TEA!!!!

So when I came to Germany and was finding my way around here, the first thing that I did was get a cup of tea at breakfast. There are no words to express my disappointment at the light colored brew that was being passed off served as tea. Being so used to the typical Indian chai** I found it very difficult to make my peace with the herbaly, no-taste tea that most café’s served.

It was slightly better at office. There were at least options and I could try my best with it. On my first day, I had an English Earl Gray tea which was better albeit along the same league as my morning tea. The next day onwards, I started experimenting slowly with each of the flavors available. Just so you know, we don’t get hot milk here and the only milk available is a bottled one or the airplane-sachet-like variety. In the bottled milk, I again found two different types: one with 1.5% fett*** and the other with 4.0% fett***. For the first trial I took the former option and well it was ok I guess. In the next trial I tried the latter one which was pretty good. And the next trial I tried the sachet ones which were by far the worst ever!!!

So each day I tried out a new combination…playing around with the varying the amount of water and milk and also the time until which I removed the tea bag. It has been almost a month here and I can finally say that I have hit-on one correct method in which I do make my tea every day!

Yay! :)


P.S: So…any guesses which tea actually worked out for me in the end? ASSAM tea!!!! :P

*TP - Time Pass

**chai – tea
***fett – fat

iShare...

I have loads to share with you. It’s been quite sometime since I found the time to blog…the past 3 months have been a roller-coast ride with so many things changing in my life.

Firstly, I am in Germany on project work and would be here for the next 3 months at least. The experience has been nothing but awesome. And then I have now completed 2 years as an independent girl. 6 months ago I took up a new job that has shown me what the term “loving your job” truly means. The journey has been a revelation in itself. My flight was really cool with a stopover in Dubai. Being used to the sight of the Chennai or Old HAL Airport of Bangalore, the Dubai airport looked more like a shopping mall.

So I landed here last month and I love it so far. The place is awesome and so is my apt and the work too! Some pics below from my first impression of the beautiful neighborhood near my apt building.

Coming to a new place and seeing a new culture around you is something that you need to experience to know how it truly feels. The first sentence that i ask anyone
(from the supermarket cashier to my cab driver) is: "Hallo...do you speak english?" :)

Being a veggie, I was warned by everyone to carry some food with me. But experimenting with the various, albeit limited options available for veggies here is a task in itself. The brezels, Döner Kebab, Falafel, Pizza, Pasta etc...are mouth watering if we just learn to train our taste buds to give a chance to other cuisines.

Oh yeah! One more thing that i have got a hang of since the past month is the German twang while saying "SO" and "JA" :D

So...Tschüs !!!

Guhantara Trip

'Allo !!!

I am back after a long hiatus!!!

Since I am a new-joinee in my new company, I was given the "task" of arranging for a team outing for one day. I immediately pictured a full day spent snow-bowling or go-karting rounded off with a sumptuous dinner someplace nice. When i asked around i got the "been-there...done-that" look! So i put my grey cells to real good use and found out about this awesome resort called Guhantara Caves Resort.

So on the 5th of July, 2008 we all set out at around 8:30 AM in the morning. The drive was long but truly enjoyable. We had taken my manager's car and another team-mates' friends car. We divided opurselves into two groups and piled into the cars. Loud music...lots of leg-pulling...this was how the day started and we reached the resort around 10:30 AM and immediately headed for breakfast.

They asked us to wait while they warmed up stuff and we set about exploring the place. There was a wide-arena kinda place where we were informed the Rain Disco would be held. Shortly, we were invited for breakfast and we trooped to the small bay where the buffet tables were set. We dug-in with pleasure and satisfied our tummy-groans before we headed into the indoor games area. There was a billiards table, chess boards, TT tables and also a carrom board. We amused ourselves as I tried to learn how to play billiards. Most of my colleagues had their hearts in their mouth when they saw me nearly drive the cue-stick into the soft velvety table. I guess they were real relieved when i moved on to a game of carrom (doubles) with my manager and other buddies. I never thought that i would be able to get even a single strike, but i managed to pull 4 coins for my team! Yay! But my manager's team won and i headed out to the outside lawns to play some shuttle.

It was sooooo damn windy that we could hardly play. We ditched that too and decided to play some throw-ball. That went on for awhile and i was too tired by then to even lift a finger. That was when i spotted the swing near the children's play area. I first tested it to make sure that it wouldnt give away under my ample build and proceeded to have a wonderful time swinging about. One of my other colleagues joined me and we clicked loads of snaps sitting on the swing! We then decided to be much more bolder and even tried out the slide. It was awesommmmmmmmmmme!!!! I had truly forgotten the wonderful feeling of sitting in a swing or going at full speed down a slide. It bought back some real feel-good memories of my childhood days.

After that we sat about in the lawn and talked for quite sometime. By then lunch was served and we decided to tuck-in to a good meal. The food was OK but i had expected more. The desert table was pathetically disappointing! :( Nevertheless, we polished off a good amount of the buffet and waited around for the rain disco to start. We then spotted a pottery wheel nearby and went there to try our hands at pottery. I had 3 trials...and made a cup kinda thing which broke everytime i tried to take it off the wheel. In the end i gave up, not because i couldn't do it...but because my other colleagues were waiting in line to try out...so stepped down gracefully :(

By the time we had all finished, the rain disco started and it was an awesome 30 mins that we all spent dancing. The music was pathetic but we managed to have fun by pulling everyone and splashing around some water. We then freshened up and we were served tea/coffe with hot pakoras. We polished off many plates of pakoras and finally headed out, tired but it was totally worth it. We had a truly wonderful time relaxing and spending time in the resort. It's really a paisa vasool trip that many corporates can go for and also good if you are a huge gang of friends.

So...after all this I am looking forward to my next trip... :)

Coming Soon !

No...I haven't given up blogging...

I'm just so busy with my new job...

Yup! It has been three months...I've settled-in quite comfortably...

But it's been really hectic and the same trend would continue for another two weeks till everything moves into validation...

So, I'll leave you now with the promise that I'll be back with a new post...very soon!

'Ome Sweet 'Ome!

Hmmm… :D

Wat a lovely feeling to come back home after six looooong weeks!!! This was more like a home-coming of sorts for me. I came back home to so many things. I will now list them sequentially.

Home-sick:
I felt home-sick after being home. The last time that I felt so badly home-sick that I actually had enough courage to acknowledge it to my parents was Christmas 2006. Man…how the years have gone-by! Seeing your father tuck the sheet around you before you sleep can really bring on the waterfalls. Parents should seriously stop doing that if they don’t want couch-potatoes for children.

Train Journeys:
I’ve mostly ONLY traveled by bus since I was a kid. Living in a place that is so near to the city (and where all your relatives stay in the same area!) kinda ruins any prospect of a train journey. And so I had this eternal longing to always want to travel in a train. The child-like excitement any such planned journey brings forth surely stumps me to this day! I experienced that very same breathless-and-wide-eyed-expression-demanding feeling as I waited on the platform for my train that was to take me to my native place for my brother’s engagement. It was just awesommmmme!

Watching ‘Chotta Bheem’* on POGO with your 3 yr old cousin:
I have this cute cousin of mine who is recently going to go to jail (read as: school). He turns 3 this May 4th. Poor dear! Anyways, there are 7 siblings on my mom’s side and he is the last grandchild in my generation. He can’t pronounce any syllable of any word with the “r” sound though he can phonetically pronounce the alphabet. In Tamil, we call it ‘mazhalai’. Its kinda like a child dialect. He’ll outgrow it very soon. So, like I was saying; he is sooooo cute. He came into my hotel room as soon as I had landed and asked me sweetly:

“Ithu than unga loom** a?” (Is this your loom?)

Awww! I just cudn’t help cuddling him. After the engagement was over, I settled in front of the TV to catch up on some IPL updates and he promptly deposited his cute-self next to me and said he wanted to watch POGO. As I tried to surf to find the channel, he frustratingly took control of the remote and punched in some numbers. Voila! POGO was playing. Kids these days sure are sharper! There was this show running called ‘Chotta Bheem’ and I spent 30 blissful mins watching this cartoon wherein Chotta Bheem reduced a bull, the size of an elephant; which was terrorizing the people of his village; to pulp. The entire 30 mins were punctuated with screams of “Ammadi…Appadi...Achacho”. I just sat there next to that little bundle and enjoyed watching a mindless (BUT on the cute side!) cartoon.

Plain Dosa***:
You know, there’s no joy in eating a dosa EXCEPT in Tamil Nadu (TN). I dunno what it is! I have eaten dosa in many places outside and somehow those made in TN just have this flavour in them that no one else can even THINK of aspiring to acquire. I guess, like my mom says, its something in the air!. : ) Digging into a plate of sada dosai (plain pancakes) with some lip smacking sambhar (lentils curry), thengai chutney (coconut curry) and vengaya chutney (onion curry) does make you feel divine! The proverb, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” is just sooooo false. I say “The way to any human being’s heart is through their stomach” :P

Washing Machine:
Heh...heh...heh... :) This one is just for the sake of the lazy-manifestation of myself. According to me, the greatest invention for eons to come is the washing machine. It's amazing how you can come home with two bags full of unwashed clothes and go back just two days later with clean, fresh, crip washed bundles. There's an almost euphoric feeling to watch the washing machine dish out clean clothes. Ooooooh! When I go to heaven, I sure will remember to thank Alva J. Fisher.

I wanna add more things here, but right now I can only rememebr the top-priority ones. I'll keep updating this as and when I remember. :)


*It’s a mythological character from Indian mythology.
**Room.
***Indian rice pancakes.

May I ask why you opened up this blog?

"okk
may i ask why you opened up this blog? i mean why do u blog!! "

Now, this was the question I got when I told my friend to stop by my blog and let me know his thoughts. This is the prose form of the chat (in first person) which followed this significant question.

Being a S/W engineer, I have these phases wherein I am so loaded with work that I hardly get a breather and then there are these phases wherein I have no work at all! So (as my first post truthfully proclaims) I got so bored in office one day that I started blogging. Plus, its nice to write about things I do/did and most importantly I get to exercise my creative writing skills.

But a blog?

Well, in that way I can get feedback on what I write and improve myself.

But do I really get the kind of feedback on which I need to improve?

Well, right now I just want the right kind of people to start reading my blog. But for that to happen I have to write as much as I can about almost everything under the sun so that some people will appreciate it or fight over it and that will increase readership and then I will write about the things that really matter. Things that will make a difference in the lives of others or make them feel kindred towards me.

When someone asks me something I can be so darn politically correct that no one will NOT not like me. But that's too much responsibility! Especially a brat like me. And a lazy one at that.

So, what follows now is the TRUE reason why I started blogging. And I can vouch for its authenticity with my very dear life.

One day my roomie asked me the meaning of the Malayalam lyrics in the song Jiya Jale from Dil Se. She just loves that song but being a Punjabi she can't (obviously) make head or tail of what the guy keeps trilling about in the chorus. She asked me and of course I didn't know. It was difficult to explain that I am a tamilian and that doesn't necessarily mean that I understand malayalam. And no, madrasi does not encompass all south Indian people. So then, there dawns this amazingly boring day in office and I just Googled for the meaning of those lyrics. I stumbled upon this blog. I felt very kindred towards certain things that she had blogged about and I was really impressed with her writing style (still am) and the best part was that it came across as being truthful. Nothing fakeish. At least, that's what I felt (still do). She is a typical S/W engineer like me and so I thought to myself that the day I get bored, maybe I will start one too. Alas, I was sadly new to blogosphere and realized much later that half the Indian bloggers out there are S/W engineers. Or worse still desi grad students in the US of A. So, on that fateful day (Ref: my first post) I started writing or rather blogging.

I was quite late to be initiated into the world of reading according to my family standards. Whereas my sister started as early as 7 or 8...I started at 12. But I fell in love with books easily enough. It was the one solace I had to escape from school, homework, studying and not be reprimanded. Even on the eve of a test or exam, amma would turn a blind eye if we had a non-school book in hand. We justified it as "a break from studying" and amma believed us readily enough. Because she wanted to. And there began my life long relationship with books and reading and this obsession for languages. And somewhere along this relationship I wanted to give back in a small way by writing myself. I get a warm, nice feeling inside of me when I read a good book. I feel kindred if the subject and character are easy to relate to my current predicament in life. When I am in one of my zombie-phases struggling for answers, I think up nice pieces in my head. The kind that only comes to you in those moments of profound realization. And the minute I reach out for a pen...POOF!...I go blank. So I've come to identify a blog as a medium to try in my very best way to come close to expressing those elusive pieces.

You may ask...why not a diary?

Well, a diary that ONLY I can read? Nah...I do a sloppy job then. I tried that once.

Now, a blog is a different story. I know people are going to read it. So it keeps me on my toes. I know I must deliver to a particular level of acceptance that should satisfy OR at least match with a good cross-section of the blog-reading/writing junta. So that makes me want to do better. Why? Because I was bought up in a society and studied in a school and college where external validation was the only means to measure my self-worth. And I carry this with me unfortunately in everything I do.

But to be fair, I am the kind of person who when/if left alone can get so darn lazy that I wouldn't even lift my little finger. And of course I am as clueless as the next person in this world. That's why everyone relates to The Sunscreen Song. If I had my way, I would while away time doing absolutely NOTHING. But if I do that, then I cannot do the other things that I occasionally also want to do and enjoy. I want to travel the entire world...I want to earn money, lots of it...then spend it like hell...I want to cook exotic dishes and make people submissive to my whims by just hypnotising them with my culinary expertise...I want to own at least ten different type of cars and drive them around crazily...also, I want houses in different styles in various decor themed interiors...I want to have a wardrobe the size of a Macy's store all to myself...and some such similar fantasies that most people nurture in their minds.

Ans I need a motivation that will make me want the above stated fantasies so much so that I actually do something that will take me 1/100,000 of an inch closer to achieving at least 1/100,000 of 1 of those 100,000 fantasies. This motivation comes in various forms, shapes and sizes. Initially, as a kid it was my rod-wielding amma. And to this day I am thankful I had her in my life. I refuse to think of alternate scenarios of my life without her presence through those struggling years. I did everything reluctantly...constantly shouting myself hoarse that I was a victim of tyranny.

Work is the panacea for the illness of laziness in me. Plus, money is a nice luxury. However meagre it may be. And the hope that things will get better one day. How? When? Where? What? are all questions that are yet unanswered. Right now, hope is the only thing that seems sensible to hold on to.

But I do need to be myself (confused, lost and seeking external validation) occasionally.

And so I blog.

P.S. : This post is dedicated to Sarad who was the brave-soul who ventured to ask me the question in the first place. :P

Its HAILing!!!

Some pics from the hailstorm that hit Bangalore on the 30th of March, 2008...It was my first hailstorm!!! :)

Mum "NOSE" Best! I

As a kid, I was quite the little devil brat who drove my mom up the wall every single day. From the day that I swallowed a hair band and gasped for air to the day that my sister popped a small pebble into my mouth cause my mom once made the careless mistake of telling her that pebbles look like chocolates and the one historic day when it rained and I slipped out of the house to the terrace, promptly climbed on to the parapet wall, held on to a pipe and trilled in my sweetest voice to " Oh ho megam vanthathu..." !!! You see I couldn't forget the vivid picture that Revathy made while dancing to that song in Mouna Raagam. After all, I was just 5!

After such near-death situations in which my mom must have died a few hundred deaths, she decided to lay down the rules. Thus came into existence our own version of "8 Simple Rules". Only, there weren't 8 rules...there were a 100! And they weren't rules either...just my mom's way of letting me and my sister know the "consequences" of our actions. I am listing few of those here. So, here goes!

I – Poori Paati:

Always take small sips of water between your food otherwise you will choke to death with the food getting congested in your chest!

Before: I used to stuff food down my willing throat!

After: To this day, I drink water more than I eat! *gulp*

II – Light-ning Effects!
Don’t watch the lightning when it’s raining, you will become blind.

Before: I’ve even given her some mild shocks by looking out the window and turning to her after a vicious flash spread thru the sky to ask: “Amma, enga irukka? Enakku onnume theriyala...ellamae iruttu a irukku!” (Mom, where are you? I can’t see anything…everything is dark!).

After: I still look out!

III – Gypsy Girl!
Don’t hang upside down, your brain will become damaged and you will be deranged.

Before: I used to sit on the sofa facing the back-rest and bend outward to lower myself upside down and watch TV.

After: I get a nice feeling doing it once in a while! :P

IV – Apple of my EYE!
Don’t rub your eyes. Your eyelids will stick to each other.

Before: Well, as a kid I had this horrible allergy to chalk powder. My eyes would become red and puffy and swollen and watery. I never gave up!

After: I used to walk like a soldier with my hands held rigidly to my sides.

V – Sweet Tooth
If you swallow a toffee, it will clog your stomach and you will eventually die.

Before: I love popping them into my mouth. And so as to beat my sister and eat more than her (you see, it was my sweet tooth which made me crave!) I would swallow many of them.

After: I tried my best not to swallow them *gulp* and I spent many a night without even closing my eyes for fear that the toffee would clog my stomach and I would die in my sleep !

All mom's come up with such scary tales to keep their kids at arms length. But my poor amma had to go the extra-mile just so I wouldn't end up killing myself in one of my many pranks! There are more to come on this topic...so keep watching this space! :)

Watzzat?!?!?!

Hey!

Watzzat?!?!?!

This was my reaction when I saw this girl in my cafeteria holding a cute tote bag . Well, I do know its a free country and people can carry whatever they want but it wasn't that! All the girls in that giggly group had the same kind of tote in varied colours. Now, what was the mystery here?

"Nethu enaku chocolate bag koduthanga!" (Yesterday, I got a chocolate bag!)

"Chocolate bag a? Yakke?" (Chocolate bag? But why?)

This mixed conversation in tamil and kannada got me interested and I tore my eyes away from those cute totes to concentrate on the two different languages that were flying by. After 5 minutes, I had solved the mystery of the tote! Yay!!!

It turned out that the Admin in my office had decided to give out these cute totes filled with thermocol golus and chocolates (OOTY choc types) for Women's Day. So how come we two ladies (in the team) were empty handed? It was one day post-March-8 and we hadn't seen a single female in my ODC flaunt one. I rounded up on the lady who was proclaiming that the security guard had come all the way to the Safe Assembly area to give her the tote while she was waiting for her cab at 8:30 PM on a dark, desolate day. Well, it turned out that the late-loginners like moi had missed out cause the totes were given only during the 8 O clock login. Hell yaar!

I decided I needed one! Tugging my team-mate by the hand we literally gate-crashed into the security cabin and asked for Women's Day Chocolate Bag. The burly guard looked at us as if we were beggars asking for alms.

"We gave everything yesterday no."

"Nange late login...nannu late a barthini...athukke nange sikilla" (I am in late-login...I come late...that's why I dint get any)

My attempt to talk in kannada like it was my mother tongue was pretty good I guess cause the lady with the guard immediately took out two totes and handed them to us. She particularly gave me a cute and special smile and declared:

"Ninge dress matching-matching alwa?" (Matches with your dress, right?)

I then realised that the lady had dug-in to get me something that would match with my dress! Gosh! People just can't help liking me! :)

Anyways, all that aside...what is it with Women's Day and all the offices distributing stuff like the afore-mentioned totes? Is that it to Women's Day? Well for the Corporates, I guess it truly is ONLY that much.

But why, I ask?

Cause well, Women's Day is nothing different for women/girls. Its just another day and well the lucky working-dames like me get something stupid like red roses, bookmarks-with-some-corny-quotes, chocolates (no objection to this one) and loads of junk mail from every being who knows your ID, wishing you Happy Women's Day (oh I hate this last one!)

I seriously don't believe in these so-called Days that come in a calendar year. Be it Friendships Day, Valentines Day, Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Children's Day, Teachers Day...and lastly Women's Day. Its seriously stupid and obnoxious! You have to celebrate something on just this one day for no apparent reason and with no appropriate proof! Wat the hell! And the retail market in India dutifully churns out all the crap that is needed to decorate, celebrate, wish and greet everyone to the point of choking them to death. Truly sickening!

As for me, I call my friends when I miss them...hug my mom whenever I feel like... fight with my dad on the most silliest of things...and indulge myself whenever my card can take it! That's how I celebrate my Days!



P.S: This post is a purely self-opinionated one and is not meant to degrade any of the Days and the people who believe in them and celebrate them. Merci!

On a High Note

I have a confession to make.

There has been this one song that has been in a continuous playlist in my mobile and even my system, since a particular Saturday in Oct 2007. Oh please! Nothing happened! Just that I saw a really wonderful movie that made me feel so nice. It gave a whole new dimension to the stale boy-meets-girl story. And since then I have been so addicted to this one song in the movie that I truly have come to understand how psychiatrists describe addiction. It doesnt matter what the dependency is, an addiction is an addiction. Be it marijuana...alcohol...or well, in my case, a song! I'm just adding the lyrics to this blog so that once my addiction is cured, I will still be able to come back and see this page in my own blog and smile about it. Or maybe the addiction wont go but still others will visit this page and maybe smile about the wonderful memories that this song can bring forth from each-ones-very-own memory-vault. :)

So here goes....!



Tum Se Hi - from the movie Jab We Met (Hindi)

Na hai yeh paana...Na khona hi hai...
Tera na hona...jaane...kyun hona hi hai...
Tum se hi din hota hai...surmayee shaam aathi hai...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...
Har ghadi saans aathi hai...zindagi kehlathi hai...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...
Na hai yeh paana...Na khona hi hai...
Tera na hona...jaane...kyun hona hi hai...

Aankhon mein aankhein teri...Baahon mein baahein teri...
Mera na mujh mein kuch raha...Hua kya...?
Baaton mein baatein teri...Raatein saugatein teri...
Kyun tera sab yeh ho gaya...Hua kya...?
Main kahin bhi jaata hun...Tum se hi mil jaata hun...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...
Shor mein khamoshi hai...Thodi se behoshi hai...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...

Aadha sa vaadha kabhi...Aadhe se jyaada kabhi...
Jee chaahe kar lun is tarah...Wafa ka...
Chode na choote kabhi...Thode na toote kabhi...
Jo dhaaga tumse jud gaya...Wafa ka...
Main tera sarmaya hun...Jo bhi main ban paaya hun...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...
Raaste mil jaate hai...Manzile mil jaathi hai...
Tum se hi...
Tum se hi...

Life In a Non Metro!

The Indian Govt does not classify Bangalore or rather Bengalooru as a Metropolitan city. Though statistics show that it is the 3rd most populous city and the 5th largest metropolitan area in the Indian sub-continent.

Either way, when I initially moved into this city I literally had stars in my eyes. I was just another S/W Engr. but Bangalore held the city-charm over me since I was a kid as I am from a small town where there is little/no life outside the family. So Bangalore to me was, to be frank, Life in a City!

I loved the place and was moving in there. What more could I want?

But, it was really nothing that I had dreamed of. It was just the same. The only thing that was different was the cost of living. But I made my peace with that as I'm single. The one thing that I did like about the city were the auto-wallahs. I paid them the minimum charge to travel almost double of the distance at my hometown for which I usually shelled out Rs 50. But then even this was snatched away when, for the first time, I hailed an auto at 9:30 pm to catch a bus for the journey home over the weekend.

"50 rupai" (50 rupees)

"Huh???" (I gave my dumb-struck reaction at the amount he was demanding. It was more than 4 times the usual rate.)

"10 baj gaye" (It's 10 'o' clock)

Panic stricken, I checked my watch and saw the minute needle wavering between 6 and 7 while the hour needle was wavering between 9 and 10.

"Kahan? 9:30 hi hai" (How come? Its only 9:30)

"Nahin madam, nahin aatha" (No madam, not acceptable)

As I struggled to weigh the pros and cons, he started moving and I panicked. My bus was at 10:00!!! I stopped him and jumped inside the auto. All through the short journey I wondered if he had truly taken me for a ride. I got down at the bus stop and absently put a 50 rupee note in his hand. I immediately dialled some friends and cross-checked. To my infinite relief, I was assured that it was OK and this is how it worked in B'lore after 8:00 pm.

The same trend continued in all other future journeys that were undertaken after 8:00 pm. Shopping trips...Late night movie shows...Late dinners...or just general gypsying-around in the town. My purse dutifully supplied the money that I handed over to the auto-wallahs with a slight pang, every time. To be fair, I also did make some lucrative journeys in autos fitted with the latesht electronic meter. I always paid Rs. 5 less (as per the meter) in the latesht ones as compared to the (old) manual meters.

It was much, much, much later that I came across a true-good-at-heart auto-bhaiyya. Frankly speaking, he was more of a uncle. I mean, he was middle-aged. Anyways, it was 8:30 am on that fateful day and my roomie was just back from a weekend stay at her aunt's place. She rushed in, loaded with her overnight bags.

"A... tumhare paas change hai?" (Do you have change?)

"Purse mein hai, le lena" (Its in the purse)

I was putting on final touches to my appearance as I prepared to take the late shuttle to office. From the corner of my eye, I saw my roomie rummage inside my handbag and pick up my purse and rush out. I checked myself for the last time and picking up my coffee mug, went to the kitchen to dump it in the sink. I returned to the room to exchange a few tit-bits of news and bidding her ba-bye, I picked up my bag and left to catch an auto to take me to the bus stop for the late shuttle.

I walked out into the street and found an auto almost immediately. I jumped inside after giving him instructions and then proceeded to imagine (read as day-dream) myself at some vague point in the future, driving around in a red colour Maruti SWIFT. I kept up this steady stream of dreams (Hey! Am I mistaken or did that sentence rhyme?) until the auto pulled over and I saw that I had reached. I stepped out, still slightly immersed in the day-dreams and absently felt for my purse in its usual place in my handbag. I did not find the reassuring bundle and proceeded to search again, this time looking down and concentrating on trying to find it. To my horror, I realised that my purse was NOT in my handbag.

My roomie must have forgotten to put it back. And the fool that I am, I didn't even think to check! Hell! I looked up into the lined face of the auto-wallah. I gulped nervously and told him.

"Bhaiyya...woh...purse...main...bool...gayi" (Dude, I've forgotten my purse)

He smiled... "Kya???"

Aaaarrrghh! Did I look like I was joking?

"Paise nahin hai bhaiyya...purse bool gayi" (No money dude, I've forgotten my purse)

He stopped smiling and his face hardened, slightly.

Ahan! He heard me loud and clear now. Phew! At least he knows whats going on.

All through this conversation, my hand kept rummaging inside the purse absently. Suddenly, I felt some notes. I looked down eagerly and saw some food coupons! Darn it! But, hey wait...maybe...

"Aap yeh rakh li jiye na...koi bhi hotel mein le lenge...paise ki tarah hi hai...khaane ke liye de sakte ho" (Can you take this instead? Its food coupons you can use in hotels. Just like money. But only for eatables)

I kept talking as I tried to explain to him the concept of food coupons. He didn't seem interested with a couple of brightly printed paper slips depicting a girl sipping cappuccino from a huge F.R.I.E.N.D like coffee mug.

"Jaane dijiye..." (Its OK. Forget it.)

Instead of making me feel relieved, it only made me feel more guilty. I tried again and again to make him accept the food coupons. He refused, this time with a small smile and reassured me that it was really OK. I was dumb-struck. Who is this guy? I continued to mutter explanations about how I had forgotten and how sorry I was and how he can REALLY use the food coupons and that they were not fake and what not!!! He brushed it all aside and said it was OK. That's it. Just that. "IT'S OK"

"Nahin..nahin...chaliye...jaane dijiye" (No, no, come on...its OK...forget it)

With this parting reassurance, he sped off to find his next savari (client). I stood on the road for a full two minutes, still clutching the food coupons while my mind raced to try and believe what had just happened. I then realised that I had a bus to catch. I began half-running, half-walking to cover the short distance to the bus stop while simultaneously crumpling and stuffing the coupons back into the handbag. I reached the bus stop safely and found the usual known-strangers (bus-mates) waiting there and I lounged against the railing with a sigh. Phew! That was close!

The rest of my journey was uneventful and I did reach office on-time. I ruefully related the days events to my teammates and even called up friends to tell them of my little adventure. Oh yeah, I called my roomie too and she sorry-fully told me that she had forgotten to put the purse back and had left it lying on the bed onto which I had promptly dumped my wet towel before I stepped out.

Through the day the face of that auto wallah persisted in coming back to me. Till date I remember him every time I step into an auto and I have made up my mind that if I do happen to run into him again, I would dutifully and gladly give him a good bakshish.

I wish there were more auto wallahs like him and less idiots like me. The world would be a much better place then. Wait...I'm getting too dramatic here...what I mean to say is that Bangalore would certainly be a much better place.

Darn It!

Hell!

I've missed it!

My eyes were focused on just two lines in the messenger window as I stared savagely...

"pls call me in case you have any queries as I am leaving for the day
try to execute whatever test cases possible...thanks"

LEAVING FOR THE DAY!!!!!!!!

THAT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!

:(

My PL had escaped...leaving me to deal with work that I had no clue about. Not because I don't know my work, but because I am still new to this project and am struggling (ONLY a little, mind you) in trying to figure out the nuances of workflow here...

My last project was NOTHING great. I worked unearthly hours, became darker than I already was and put on a hell lot of weight and of course lost contact with ALL my friends. It wasn't until I saw a random picture taken in come treat-party and shockingly realised how careless I had been about myself. I then went on a control-diet wherein you don't stop eating or eat diet foods or whatever. I just cut down on rice completely and started taking the mere two flights of stairs to my office floor and well believe me or not, it worked its own wonders. I lost all the EXTRA pounds. As to the spoilt complexion (not that it was much really, in the first place) I went back to my old-baby-time-routine...a good massage with "nal ennai" (sesame oil) followed by a generous face-pack of "kadalai maavum thayirum" (besan with yogurt). My complexion too revived and went back to its humble original ruddiness... :) MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!

Wait...why am I typing all this?

What am I saying in this post actually?

Oh yeah...I missed my BUS... :(

Like I was saying, my last project was terrible. I had a psychotic PL just one year my senior who did his utmost best to do NO work and his utmostest best (if I may be allowed to use such a double-superlative) to make life pure hell for ALL of us with the exception of his two chamchas who called him "annan" (big brother).

$%^#*!

Sorry about the last word. I cant help but hold my thumb over the shift key and thump at the numbers (for special characters) when I think of that DASH. Anyways, I survived and finally when eventually the project crashed (which it had to with that DASH for a PL) my entire team with the exception of the two chamchas (obviously!) had a wonderful meeting where we shouted it all out at him and took it off our chest. Not that he kept quiet, though. He threw his abuses at us as soon as we started the so-called "discussion" and we weren't going to let him rant on. We interrupted, spoke, shouted, screamed (in that order cause you see, we weren't as DASH as him) and did all that we had been wanting to do for a really, really, really long time. He took special pleasure in jibing at me continuously and I took even more pleasure in talking back and making it very clear that he was as much important to me as a piece of #$%^ stuck to the hem-line of my dress! But everything said and done I loved all the others in the team. It was after all my first project and I made many friends there. And that last meeting showed us all how we had united against the DASH. :)

Well, I moved out and joined another project which seemed to fit exactly into anyone's dream of a s/w engineer's work. I come to office at 11 am and leave at 8:00 pm with nice coffee breaks and lunch hours. Plus more importantly, the work is good. I work on the latest tools and learn so much from the much more experienced team-mates. I am still learning how it works in-here and proof of that is the fact that my new PL tends to go-missing sometimes without warnings :(

How ironical!

In my last project this is what ALL of us wished for, though it never happened!!!

D Day!

Well...here it is...

My very first blog...

Guess this boring day in office had to finally come to this...

I have been so jobless since Diwali in November and guess its going to continue this way for another couple of weeks...I have got my next allocation but "work" in its true sense hasn't started yet...but well I do have a system which I can fiddle around with...I've been Googl(e)ing, Wikiying since lunch and I've become so bored of even that and well so here I am...blogging...

OK...I believe in a little anonymity on the web and so let me give some very little details about moi!

I am a compulsive dreamer and an incurable romantic...added to the fact that I am impulsive, passionate (as in temper/temperament), shop-o-holic, ice-cream-a-holic, choc-o-holic and not to brag but on the blessed side as regards looks....

I will never call myself beautiful cause in spite of all the adjectives used above, one adjective that I will never use to describe me is vain...but I do take the liberty to address myself as pretty, adorable, sweet-looking and the like from time to time... :)

A typical Southie (and proud to be one!) I spent the major part of my life in a small, quaint little town down south with my small family...my childhood was almost perfect and my adolescence and teen life was spent being cluelessly dreamy and ignorantly romantic about the various "dreams" and "aspirations" of that age...my graduation was along the same lines with a few major changes...all through I had a wonderful time knowing and learning about myself...

I was brought up to believe (and understand) that once I get a professional education/degree, I would have to pick and choose (not that I would have much choice, really) from amongst a list of pre-chosen and pre-approved guys, marry that fated being and settle down in life. Oh yeah, they would be expecting kids in the first year itself. They meaning my parents, my grand-parents, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins...etc. And believe it or not, I was gleefully and happily looking forward to it. It wasn't until my pre-final year of graduation I decided to start a self-exploratory journey. To know me better. To know what I want from life. To know what I would give back. To know what on earth am I doing in this life. So on and so forth...its been two years since then and I know I wouldn't have gotten so far if I hadn't made that one crucial decision...

And that being the fact that I saw my own sister succumb to such a life and I realised I would die rather than be in her shoes. Fine, she had a loving husband and I'm not lying here. My brother-in-law dotes on my sister, is very romantic, sweet, nice, everything that a girl could want. Yet I hesitated to step in to the same kind of life. Me, the person who imagined and planned even the colour and type of bindi I would wear for my reception and the menu (the foodie that I am!) that would be served and what not! I suddenly remembered about a little girl who wanted to be alone. Who wanted to know what homesick meant. Who wanted to suffer by eating unpalatable food in some god-forsaken hostel/PG. Who wanted to lie alone in the room suffering in fever with no one to ask "What happened to you?". I wanted all this. And more.

I wanted to see a business card with my name on it. I wanted to see monthly bank statements with a lump-some amount in it. I wanted to see that same money disappear and stack up in the form of shopping bills and eat-out bills. I wanted to have a tag around my neck that i would proudly show-off and remove only after entering my room. I wanted to be MYSELF!

I fought. I cried. It dint work.

I started telling scaring stories of girls who made bad marriages. It dint work. (My sister was there to prove that wrong, she had made a wonderful marriage)

I rejected all the guys whom my parents put in front of me. It dint work. They found more.

Then, somehow before I knew it, I was shopping to leave home for my job. And then before that would end I was on a train waving goodbye and bravely gulping down tears. And then I had it all. All that I listed out before. And now...now what? Its like that Amul AD...

"I WANT MORE!"

I have been working since then for the past two years...and guess it was destined to be this fateful day that i would pen these things on a blog...on yet another boring day at office!