Back to School

I'm back home!!!

I still have a couple of boxes to unpack to be officially moved in. But damn, the last two boxes are the hardest. After a trip to the bigger and better Indian store, I have a fully functional kitchen. My spice shelf looks oh-so-pretty. Making dal tadka and handi paneer today :)

Classes start on Tuesday but I already have a pile of homework to be done. Is it too early to start cribbing? :P

We had the first party yesterday at a friend's place and it was so good seeing everyone. 4 months is a long time and this is the last year of school. But I'm not going to think about that now. But I'll say this much: It's good to be back :)

A Dangerous Eye Age

Monica: Well yeah, but, you know, uh, 27 is a dangerous eye age.

I smirked to myself when I first heard this line on F.R.I.E.N.D.S. But now, having turned 27 myself, I am not smirking. I actually find myself agreeing with Monica. 27 is a dangerous eye age. It makes you see stupid visions; good ones like those dreams you had when you were a naive teenager and pictured yourself as a career woman who managed a home with a handsome husband and angelic cherubs for kids. And bad ones like those that you get when you're depressed and wallowing in self-pity. It throws all these random images at you (good and bad) like it's mocking you; trying to show you what's in store in the future and that one small step in the wrong direction and you're doomed.

It's not like turning 25 or 26. My only concern when I turned 25 was that the next time I picked up a book, I could never imagine myself as the lead protogonist if she would be in her "early twenties". And that thought scared me more than anything else. What's left to life if you cannot lose yourself in a book with the belief that one day you may be that girl in the book!

To me, turning 27 felt like getting interrogated by federal agents. OK, I know I'm exaggerating but that's how it feels to me. It's hard enough that you do it in your head everyday but when you have this SMug, Annoyingly Know-it-all (SMAK) version of yourself interrogate you...its even worse.

SMAK: So, 27...you've done well.

You: *BLINK* Really? I mean, thank you. *SMALL SMILE*

SMAK: Thank you? (sneeringly) Let me explain it to you, retard..."that" was sarcasm.

You: *GULP* So you mean I haven't done well?

SMAK: Are you successful?

You: Um...well...not exactly...but...you see...I...

SMAK: Then NO! (bangs a fist on the table)

You: *DOUBLE GULP*

SMAK: And don't even get me started on things in the personal front... (sneers again)

You: *WIDE-EYED DUMB EXPRESSION* I know...but...I think...its OK...

SMAK: It's not OK, until I say its OK! It's been 27 yrs and you still haven't gotten that into your head, haven't you?

You: *DEMENTED LOOK* What do you think I should do?

SMAK: Let me tell you what I think you should do...get off that fat-ass of yours and get cracking. You have 3 years left...you hear me? 3-freaking years...find that career that you've been dreaming about...fight for that love you've been yearning for...and for heaven's sake settle down for once! I've had it upto this with your rants and self-pity sessions (raises hand to hold a feet above head)

You: *SHAKING AND TREMBLING* I'm trying...I've been trying all along...

SMAK: Well, then you better try harder...OK Old Lady?

You: *SCREAMING AND STANDING UP* I'm not old!!!

SMAK: Oh yeah, then who's this shrivelled, ugly hag in the mirror? (holds up a mirror to your face)

You: *SCREAM MORE AND RUN OUT*

I told you, 27 is a dangerous eye age *SIGH*

On a totally happy note, my brother's wife delivered a healthy and beautiful little baby girl today! On my b'day! And...*DRUMROLL* she's gonna have at least a pet name that's gonna be similar to mine. How cute is that? See...I can be cheery too :)

Now that I think about it...27 is not that bad, I guess.

Lost in Translation

Do you know what Moringa is?

If you do, tell me one thing...did you Wiki-it or Google-it or did you just know? If you belong to the last category, then wow! I mean, really, wow!

It's not that I did not know about it but the fact that when I did find out what it was, I laughed so hard that I'm sure my landlady thought I was having a crazy fit.

Background story time: My friend/colleague/co-intern was leaving this Friday and she's been such a big help not just to me but to all the interns in my office. So when people started talking about gifts for her, I pitched the idea of a gift-set from 'The Body Shop'. People weren't too enthusiastic about it and so I decided to just do it on my own. I owed her a lot and she was such a dear to me when I first moved here. I left office a little early and headed right into the center of the city near the Dom and made my way to 'The Body Shop'. I wandered around and tried 4 or 5 different fragrances and decided on one that was named Moringa. I checked the label and it said nothing about the flower or the fragrance which was weird. But the fragrance was really nice and I liked it a lot and decided to just go for it.

But I was curious about this Moringa flower ('cause the bottle had this small white flower in the label) and kept thinking about it on the ride home. I settled down with a cup of coffee and Google cum Wiki'd it. And this is what I got:

Moringa oleifera, the word Moringa probably came from dravidian language Tamil and commonly referred to as Murungakai.

For those of you who don't get it...I'm a Tamilian and my native language is the dravidian language Tamil. And no, I did NOT know this.

And Moringa or Murungakai is a vegetable that is very common in the southern part of India. It's considered to have very high nutrition value and the plant or tree is even grown in most homes. It's leaves and fruit (or the vegetable Murungakai) is regularly included in our diet.

If my mom heard about this, she'd guffaw and say: "Murungakai scent a namma ooru la vithu paaru...kall-ala adi pattu sethu than pove". Loosely translated: if you try to sell this in India, you'd probably get stoned to death.

I wonder what other "exotic" fragrances I would find in The Body Shop :)

Geet & Me

There is nothing similar about me and the lovable character of Geet. Actually we are poles apart. But I do feel kindred towards her character for one reason: running behind trains/buses/rickshaws etc.

All my friends from Bangalore would vouch for the fact that no matter how early I wake up or how quickly I get ready in the morning, I am always late by a silly 2 minutes. It may not seem much, but it is enough to make me run behind the bus; literally everyday. I can actually count on my two hands the number of times that I have reached the stop early and waited for the bus. Yes, I am that bad. But in my defense, if it wasn't for me...Koramangala 4th block (SONY Signal or Maharaja Hotel stop) would have no entertainment. From running across the busy SONY Signal without waiting to check for traffic, to running alongside the bus a good 20 feet and banging on the sides to get the cleaner's attention, to cutting across the path of the bus in filmi-suicidal style...I have done it all. And I guess that is also the reason that no cute guy on my bus ever made the effort to talk to me. Such is life! *SIGH*

At USC, I live two blocks from my campus; so I walk to school daily. But of course here in Germany, my office is located in a village. Yes, a village. There is nothing here except for this huge plant. Nothing else. So obviously I live in a nearby city; that is slightly bigger, better and well connected. But which also means that I need to depend on a bus/tram AND a train to get me to office everyday. Not just one bus or train. But two switches. Which means twice the amount of running. My apartment has a bus stop just around the corner. I can actually see the buses and trams making their way to the stop and I obviously run everyday to catch up. After that, once I reach the Hauptbahnhof, I have to go all the way to platform 5 A for my train. Which means two floors (that's two escalators) and crossing the main lobby. All of which of course I run across. The one good thing though, is that in the Hauptbahnhof...EVERYONE is running one way or another. So I don't mind it much.

So like any normal day, I step out and see Bus # 60 already at the stop. I quickly check my watch and start sprinting. As I crossed the taxi stand, I heard a sickening crunch over my right shoulder like glass or brittle plastic shattering on the concrete pavement. I paid no heed to it and continued sprinting to the bus. An old man was good enough to keep the doors open for me as I made it in the nick of time. I found a seat and sat down to catch my breath. Then, I remembered that strange sound and decided to make sure that I had all my things with me. My handbag was clasped shut but the sleeve where I keep odd ends like mints, phone, ID card and other girlie-stuff had no zipper or clasp. So I groped around without even bothering to look inside to make sure that all the things were inside and not on a pavement around the corner. That's when I missed it. That familiar square-tubish, leathery feel of my lipstick holder. I looked inside and didn't find it. Now, judge me all you want but it was NOT just a lipstick holder. It was a gift from a very, very special someone and I had my favorite shade of L'Oreal in it. The lipstick itself didn't matter much because I could get it at any CVS or WalGreens. It was the lipstick holder that mattered more to me than anything else.

All this while, the bus had not moved away and I double, triple checked only to realize that I didn't have it on me. Which was weird because in true tradition, I always wear my lipstick on the elevator ride down from my apartment and I had just used it. So I couldn't have left it at the apartment. As all these thoughts flashed through my mind I hesitated just a nano-second before deciding to de-board the bus. I really didn't care that I would have to take the next train and be 30 mins late to office...but I needed that lipstick holder back. I ran again after checking the screen for the next tram to Hauptbahnhof in 5 minutes and reached the taxi stand. I started looking everywhere...under the bushes...near the cycle stands...under the nearest parked taxi...everywhere...but darn it! It wasn't there. I was so heart-broken. And that's the exact minute that my phone decided to beep about low-battery warning. I impatiently looked inside the bag and there...right next to my cheap, 10 Eruo phone was my lipstick holder. I had no time to even rejoice as the next tram was almost at the stop...so cursing and mentally kicking myself for being such a fool; I ran to catch my tram and even managed to make it to my train which was *drumroll* 5 minutes late...yay!

In conclusion: I have held up my tradition and provided pure entertainment value not only to 4th Block Koramangala...but also to Bismarckplatz in my small city. I think I just found my life's true purpose :)