Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
This bakery essentially has three units - bread division (where dough for the bread is made, cut, and kept on hold till it enters into the oven), bun division (likewise for buns and biscuits) and finally the packing division. Plus there is a quality control lab and a distribution unit.
So what's amazing there is the complete harmony i experience between man and machine. Around each machine stand a group of people, rooted to the spot repeating the same motion over and over again. A few walk around moving material - but most workers just stay put. Stand and repeat what they need to do to keep the machine going - again and again and again. It's basically the machine that sets the pace while the men and women around it support it. Like in the bread unit, as the machine drops the dough balls into the conveyor belt, workers on either side pick it up and put it in the molds. The machine goes clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop. The man goes pick-drop, pick-drop, pick-drop, pick drop. In the packing unit, the bread slicer goes trrtp-sash, trrt-sash trrt-sash trrt-sash and the lady standing there goes hold-pass, hold-pass, hold-pass, hold-pass. Everywhere you see, there is perfect rhythm; a super-efficient mechanical dance between the two parties.
Now, one might believe that this highly repetitive set of motions could be quite mind-numbing over a period of time. And sure i agree people may not necessarily being doing it out of love for the bread-making process. But despite the humming and sounds of machines, there is an air of meditative serenity i experienced. Everyone works in tandem with the machines for a few minutes at a stretch and then there is a break: machines are stopped, quick conversations and back to the dance floor :) . It's not just me who gets drawn into that harmonious rhythm, it also has a calming effect on the children. The same kids who need a variety of theatrics just short of standing on my head to settle down and pay attention back in class, now standing for a full five minutes as one of the men there just stands at his post pushing out hot breads from the baking moulds - dhapp-woosh; dhapp-woosh; dhapp woosh......
i have seen little videos on bread-making where the whole place is mechanized. But trust me, while those places look zillion times more efficient, they do not have even an iota of character like this semi-mechanized bakery has. I think there is a sense of peace many a times, when one is engaged in a repetitive motion. Plain repetitive mechanical work. On an auto pilot mode, doing things over and over again. I get a feeling, this is what i miss in my life. Sure the work i do is quite stimulating and i have all the freedom in the world. But end of the day, i do get a little tired dealing with tons of variables and personalities. So just to recharge myself, it may not be such a bad idea to engage in something simple & mechanical and done in silence. In Mumbai local trains when i was in college, i would notice some women getting into that same calming energy through knitting or at times twirling a rosary. So what do i do?
Not that i could work all my life in a bakery, but certainly maybe once a week. Put on the hair cover and the apron and take my place in this synchronized mechanical world. A time to calm my nerves, relax my brain cells, exercise those arms and just go on and on and on. And given my love for bakery products, the aroma of the place with buns and biscuits all around would be a perk I'd happily enjoy!
So the next time you don't see me in my office, you know where to find me - by the corner of a little bakery in Bangalore, in complete peace going : dhapp-woosh; dhapp woosh; dhapp-woosh!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Keeping up with the Dora theme of her life, we decided to take her camping to a place close by (thanks to a friend who could organize it for us). Nia had a great time and the next morning she sleepily murmured "i am 4" before disappearing into the sleeping bag. I kept lying down looking at my little baby, thankful for what her presence has meant to me. So what has turning 4 meant to my baby? What has changed in the last one year for her? Her confidence at taking on people. Defiance when asked to do something she does not want to. Fascination for writing - she went thru a phase of "2 is so difficult" to actually enjoying scribbling 8 all over the place. Increased interest in mythology. Putting in effort to speak grammatically correct sentences. Her willingness to be a little more independent in doing her chores. The thrill she gets in wearing traditional clothes. Also nail paint and lipstick. A strong view that girls are nice and boys are naughty.
I also see a lot of things that have not changed for her since the last one year. A fascination for language. Talking loudly. Her attachment to me. Looking forward to evenings with my neighbour. Trying hard to reason out with us to win an argument. Her amazing ability to move on when someone lets her down. Her tantrums when she is refused a chocolate before dinner. Asking for jeera goli and Gems every time she gets to make a wish. Connecting everything that happens in real life to her own imaginary world in a place she calls Jamma where she lives with her girl husband, 8 daughters and 2 sons. Her fear that people will think she is a boy if she wears pants. Her pretend shy look when she meets new people. Love for chocolates. Not wanting to go to school - making up reasons right from there's a festival at home today to i want to visit oni-ma in Seattle. Her daily dose of one story and one song before bedtime. And of course, her disappointment that she is born in the last month of the year!
But the one thing that stays the same, for which i am most grateful, is her absolute willingness to share her world with me - be it through her questions, her thoughts, her reactions and her wishes. Thanks to her willing and open sharing, i too am challenged to look at my life, my ways and my perspectives. And in her sharing, I too have grown and today am a proud 4-year old mamma!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Finally stuck at a traffic signal. Using the time to run through the to-do-list to be tackled soon as i get to work. And getting exasperated at the idiot behind who is honking despite the signal being red.
In the middle of all this irritation, i glance at the sidewalk, wondering if walking would have gotten me faster to work. And i spot this guy going by. Seems like a daily-wage worker. Two nylon bags - one filled with what looks like saw & hammer and the other with his lunch box. And walking bare feet. Nothing unusual - except for this broad smile on his face. I look hard to see if he actually has a cell phone or some ear phone connected to some kind of audio device. But NOTHING at all. Some memory playing on his mind that's making him smile. And the smile doesn't get any smaller as he waits to cross the road. In fact, it gets bigger as i see him cross and go past me. Completely oblivious to the world but somewhere deeply connected to his own life.
For a moment, i wonder what he might be reliving in his mind. But it does not matter. The smile is enough to help me tide over the monday morning blues, the traffic, the cacophony.
And as i drive on, the morning seems different. and my mind is cocooned by the image of that smile.....
.....it really is that simple to pause, breathe, let your back relax and take things in your stride!
Thank you, Mr. Carpenter!
Monday, November 10, 2008
What I would like to share is how I experienced the place with the children. A self-proclaimed Garbage Lady - Poonam connected so well with the children and in her warm and direct way challenged them to look at what “yucky” really means. And how garbage is not really waste. And best of all was her drawing a similarity between garbage and children – saying that just like you kids who have great potential to become something in the future – so does your daily garbage! How cool is that!
Explaining the process in a very simple way, Poonam showed the children how the garbage ‘harvests’ over a period of time. Sure the smell of fresh garbage was a little repulsive to the children, but what was an eye opener is how all that smell is lost even as the garbage is half way into the composting process. By the time your harvest is ready – it actually smells like fresh mud. Pure magic! The children got quite drawn into the process and enthusiastically jumped in to rake the composting garbage. And insisted on doing it several time over – all apprehensions of smell and yuckiness buried under the garbage pile!
What stayed with me the most was Poonam describing the earth as the skin of the earth. And just like people need to keep their skin clean and healthy to be safe, adding compost makes the earth’s skin healthy. Did you know, you can actually reduce your organic waste by 80% by composting at home? And even if you don’t have a garden, by simply adding your compost to the soil anywhere, you are doing your bit towards taking care of the planet.
So go ahead, start composting. Echoing Poonam’s parting remark to the children as they marched out with their composting pots : Let’s all make Earth happy!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Last night on a whim, hubby and me decided to try out a new restaurant called Rajdhani for dinner. I am sure this restaurant has other branches within Bangalore, we went to the one in UB city. Now this restaurant has just one thing to offer - The Rajdhani Thali. A scrumptious spread - a combination of cuisines from Gujarat & Rajasthan - that included 1 chaat, 4 curries, 3 different kinds of dal, 3 different rotis, 3 sweets and 2 different kinds of rice. And though you control the portion sizes as different people come to serve you, I was so stuffed at the end of the meal, i wished one of the cranes working on the construction site across the road could haul me back home. As you can see, though Diwali is behind us - the food spirit still lingers on!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Now let me explain the ridiculousness of this situation. i live with my mother-in-law who is a fabulous cook. I have a helper in the house who cooks snacks for 100 odd kids @ my learning centre through the week. And today when I have 15 people coming over, I decided to make things that both these talented women do not make! It is something that only I can make. This fully knowing that:
1) my friends love my mom-in-law's cooking
2) cooking as an activity completely stresses me out
I still have to get a ladle on this - why does cooking stress me out some much? Well, since a whole bunch of things can be conveniently blamed on early childhood & parents in general, here's my explanation: My mom is great cook. And when i say great - i mean really really GREAT! She could whip up delicacies in minutes with least prep time. She would actually remember what our individual friends liked and then accordingly cook when they visited (in a family of three children with many hungry friends - that's no mean feat). It almost seemed as if she was in direct competition with all the restaurants and the famous Bombay street food vendors. Now maybe that has set up this 'impossible-to-attain' standard in my head. To make things worse, my siblings seem to be quite comfortable in the kitchen and discuss recipes like i discuss comic strips. So that's another source of added pressure.
Also, a part of me feels that there is a unstated rule in our societal psyche : "woman = good cook". So for someone with limited skills like me (and great chefs in the family), this is again a huge obstacle to cross.
So with all this 'खिचडी' cooking in my head - why on earth did i set up this situation today???? why? why? why? But this is not the most absurd event in my life. What is even more preposterous is - when i think of what i would have been doing in life had I not been working with children - the ONLY answer that comes up is running a cafe that serves Indian short-eats. A place which is a happy hangout for people. where everything on the menu costs Rs. 10. And everything is made by me. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!! No matter how hard i try, i can't seem to get this fantasy off my head. Why? Why? Why?
So this Sunday morning, as i need to get ready to cook food for the 15 friends (who i must say are taking a bigger risk than me), i am obviously stalling for time cooking up questions to see how i still got myself into this soup. And can see myself walking on egg-shells. Gosh! My goose is cooked!
and since i have also run out of the self-imposed 500-word blog limit (and all food related cliches), there is nothing much left to do but to get myself into the kitchen and start. Which reminds me, i yet have to buy some the most critical ingredients for my recipes. why? why? why?
PS Coming to think of food cliches - why on earth would something easy be called "like a piece of cake"?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
So all this research got me thinking - what if people too came with specific structures that dictated what each one is meant to do? What if our bodies got us to focus on specific tasks and only through that connect with others and the community at large? A spot reserved on earth for everyone doing their thing. No conflicts, no politics at work, no one-upmanship. No scurrying like headless roaches tying to figure things out (yeah, that was another thing i researched on!)
But then again, think about it - aren't we too like that little ant or that busy bee? We may not have physical structures geared towards a particular job description in life. But there IS an internal programming that seems to be operating. Maybe not in our bodies but in our psyches. A voice that helps us understand what feels right and what doesn't. Increasingly i hear about people pursuing what appeals to them beyond their educational background or early career choices. Of people giving up everything they do, as if on a whim, to follow a dream. And of others who feel they are stuck in a rut but are asking the right questions to discover their path.
In the culture i grew up in - there were several external factors that determined what you chose as your profession. And early in life, the inner voice is hushed. But going by how i experience a whole of people specially in their 30s - there is hope. For the psyche finds a way to push through the responsibilities, job descriptions, politics and performance appraisals, to say out loud what it needs to. It can come to you in a book you read or a conversation with a friend or a mystical dream that lingers on or just tuning into yourself in your quiet time. And without any clear logic or discussion, our entire being seems to respond to an idea, a thought - "yes this is me!" or atleast what i meant to be! And going by personal experience - when we march in step with this inner voice, life does not get any easy, but it sure does get a whole lot meaningful!
So like those little bees, its nice to heed to the waggle dance your psyche does to direct you to whatever you are meant to be. Go on - ask the right questions, pause & listen, take that one tiny step - and viola, see the magic unfold!
Monday, October 20, 2008
So of late, weekend nights with with friends seems to be a time to just connect over conversations. The last few times we met, we just spoke and listened and then spoke some more over cups of coffee and tea. And what do we talk about? Nothing of great consequence but somewhere things that do matter to each of us. From interesting books being read to cooking holiday plans that never may take off. From struggles we face as young parents to how blessed we feel to be so aware in life. From absolute jerks we sometimes meet at work to how at times we end up doing dumber things with our time! Personal philosophies, musings, budding ideas, weird questions, stories, facts all making the rounds.
For me this is a feeling of comfort i can't quite express - a similar feeling of wearing that run-down t-shirt that is so in taters but needs to be held on to like a family heirloom! Its a time to speak without being judged, argue without worrying about offending, question without challenging and finally just being. Concerns that are general and yet not too general; feelings that are deep and yet not too deep! Its interesting to see how little snippets, opinions and thoughts all simmer and rise over the conversations to create a final shape and form that appeals to everyone. And then waiting for that last piece of conversation to run out in the wee hours of morning so we can finally go to bed.
How can facebook ever replace connections as these?
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
i had to go to a friend's house in Colaba and took a local train to VT station (as u can see - i am sticking to the old names). I wasn't sure which is a better exit to take - so i approached a help desk manned by two cops and asked them the best way to get to Regal theatre. One of them immediately said (in Marathi) - just go to that bus stop there - Bus # 1 will take you straight to Regal. I said i'd like to take a cab. His immediate response: "Why do you want to waste money on cabs when there is a straight bus taking you there?"
Anyway, thanking him for his advice, i proceeded towards the taxi stand (i was running late :-/ , that's why). I asked the first cabbie in the line if he could take me to a street ahead of Regal. His response: " i will drop you until Regal. You can walk from there if the place is close." I wasn't surprised at this response - living in Bangalore, this is something i face everyday from the auto drivers there - something like - hey if your destination is where i "feel" like going today and you are willing to pay double the fare, hop on! So i told the cabbie, i don't want to walk, i'll take another cab that takes me to the street. That's when the cabbie told me that he was running a share cab. Which means he takes in four passengers all wanting to go roughly in the same direction. And that's why it's hard for him to drop me till the end point of my destination. Thus enlightened, i told him i was running late and would take a regular cab - he immediately responded, "madam why do you want to spend on a regular cab when you could get there at 1/4th the price? Anyway the place you need to do isn't all that far from Regal"
So people out there - Bombay cares, Bombay saves and Bombay helps you save. I struggle a lot more in Bangalore where public services assume EVERYONE living there has plush software jobs with high disposable incomes and will pay whatever it takes to avail of the public services. But Bombay knows that people have different lives, different stories and are working hard to earn their living. And no matter what the pace of life is out there, Bombay is willing to stop and listen and help. Bombay truly rocks!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Nia verbatim and my internal reactions / responses to her
Nia (Opening question) - "why do i to go to school and you to office every day?"
Me: 8 secs response - u need to study, i need to earn (i am not going to bore you with the details!)
Nia #2 - "They make me do so much work in school - why don’t they give me a salary?"
Me - a full one minute, importance of learning blah blah blah..."
Nia #3- "I am feeling very sad. My birthday is in the last month of the year.
Me: Rattling off names of people she likes who were also born in Dec
Nia #4- "Even Jesus Christ was born in December".
Me: Surprised - "who told you about Christ"
Nia #5- “Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Me: Nice long response - must’ve taken all of three minutes. Tried to mix reverence with practicality - Sister Joan from my convent school would have been so proud of me!
Nia #6- "Did he die?"
Me: "Yes" (didn’t bother to get into resurrection as i myself am not too clear about it - shortest exchange - as you can see)
Nia #7- "Will you die?"
Me: I cringed, not too comfortable talking about my own mortality and finally "YES"
Nia #8- (tears in her eye) "I don't want you to die" (awwwww!). "Please eat lots of healthy food so that you live forever and ever"
Me: i spent a full one minute contemplating about the shortness of my life and how cool it is to be alive and how much my daughter loves me and how to reassure this little one....until
Nia #9 : “Mamma i know there is no Santa Claus - Ankur came dressed as Santa”
Me: Ok move over death - time for Santa. That's one story i love - so i try convincing her how its cool to imagine about Santa. And pushed my two bits about how good behavior gets in rewarded. (it did feel weird tho' discussing Santa in September)
Nia #10: Mamma whoever thought of Santa has good imagination. You think Santa is watching me now?
Nia #11: Mamma you used a very difficult word yesterday - COMMUNICATE . What does that mean?
Me: Oh oh whatever happened to Santa? Anyway, Mamma Dictionary explained the word to her and also wondering why I would use the word ‘Communicate’ with her
Nia #12: "I am sorry for calling you an idiot yesterday - you think Santa heard me say sorry?"
Me: Mission accomplished - but i still went right ahead and used up all of two minutes to deliver another sermon on good behavior
Nia #13: "Now if anyone troubles me or calls me an idiot - i'll tell them not to or Santa will not give them gifts"
Finally silence in the car; guess she had something to think about .
And me, i was thinking about lessons on 'The Art of Conversations' that i learnt from my 3-year old over the last few minutes:
Lesson #1 - Keep it short and simple
Lesson #2 - Just get your basics right - no point goin in-depth
Lesson #3- Seek information - the variety of things you can ask about - the better it is
Lesson #4- All problems have simple solutions - move on with it!
Lesson #5 - Information is good only if you use it - so immediately apply it to your own life
Phew! that's a lot to get out of a 12.5 min ride I think as I park outside her school. The end to my morning ritual is me peering over the wall waiting to say the last goodbye for the morning as Nia enters her classroom. And today i stood thinking how proud I am of this little child of mine – her intelligence, her articulation….when she turns and yells: “Mamma you are very fat, please eat healthy food so that you don’t die”
Me – totally mortified! It’s not what you want to hear when you are standing on the road with a handful of parents AND her teachers around. So turning all blue, purple, red I try to slink back into my car – when again I hear her voice calling out again “And Mamma thanks for communicating with me”
Sunday, August 31, 2008
So there are really two things that the movie did to me:
I need to say I am sorry. Life's been pretty good to me so far but i am also deeply aware that along the way, i have hurt some people. Some i know and some i probably will not even know. And i am sorry. I truly am. It’s not like i want some kind of a dramatic reunion. i also am pretty sure that people i have wronged would never even read this blog. The apology is my own little way of acknowledging to my life that i am sorry i blew up - several times over. and i do hope that i have the wisdom not to do it again (or atleast have the sense to not wait too long before i say sorry)
Second one -though seemingly small but will have a more direct impact on my life - saying NO to music piracy. In my work with children, i find myself turning to the net for songs and given the limited accessibility to resources here, i find myself downloading quite a few free mp3s. No more. I promise.
So here's the new reformed me - saying Life is good! Stay in touch with your friends, follow your dreams. And finally, buy music and Rock on!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
One of the huge advantages of living in an independent house in Indian Cities - a variety of fruits, vegetables, etc, at your door step! This vendor here has a combination of fruits & flowers - possibly what the lady of the house would need for her daily prayers. And don't miss the solitary corn in the middle (possible placed for good luck!).
Many such colourful sights delight me through the day. Not just the quality of what these vendors get but also their sense of timing. Like tender coconut water as early as 7 in the morning followed by fresh green and fruits & vegetables until 10. This is then followed by another round of fresh fruits & vegetables through the evening. The day ends with the petite flower-lady delivering garlands of fresh buds for the next morning's puja as late as 8 in the night. And along with the long garlands made for the puja, there's a small string kept handy for my little daughter who always insists on helping the flower-lady put the basket back on her head!
Customer service at its best.....let's see Reliance Fresh beat this!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
After a really long time, i travelled by air. Some work came up in Delhi - a good 1000 miles away from home. There was a time, when i first started working, that flying by air for me was the best perk my job offered! And the whole magic was being at the same level as the clouds and also getting a closer aerial view of the two cities - point of origin and destination. It used to be the most exciting exploration to guess the places - from apartment complexes to historic monuments as land drew closer.
Ah! one of those warm memories from childhood - my siblings and me all under 10, eagerly awaiting dad's return from the US - maybe it was his first trip abroad and so the excitement. and more that the goodies that would be in store for us - i remember the three of us discussing how our building would appear from the skies and if dad would spot it. We even waved out at every airplane that flew past our little 3-storeyed structure that day - you know, just in case! Those days most apartment complexes around our neighbourhood were not higher that 4 floors, except for this one building which had maybe around 15 floors. And we were sure that dad would spot that apartment complex from his window and then like a modern day Charles Lindbergh, locate where his children were! So FINALLY, when he walked thru the door, we all bombarded him with questions about how our building looked from the skies and when he said there was no way he could have seen it -we go 'yeah, but you surely must have seen that tall one there'. and when dad replied in the negative, we all rather smugly concluded that he might have dozed off and is unwillingly to admit it! I mean how can ANYONE not see a 15-storeyed building from the sky!
That was a long time ago and now i know. But i still try to trace desperately where my home is, where friends live based on significant landmarks when I fly. But that is where the magic of flying ends for me. Now, I am unable to handle the quickness of the transition from one place to another - be it while leaving home or even while leaving the other place. Its like you are this tree on land, making your own personal connections with a place, the people there, the sights, the sounds - and then poof! you are abruptly uprooted from there and then have to strike your roots in another place. In between safety procedures and rather efficiently packed snack trays, i feel i hardly get any time to delink myself from source A and also re-enter the life in Source B. i experience jetlags even in 1 hour domestic flights - more for the effort it takes to readjust to a very different world than the body clock bit of it!
Train travel is what i would rate the best among options i have. The gentle rocking, the soft sounds, the closeness to earth and the beautiful landscapes she has to offer. The transition is a lot gentler – I slowly say my goodbye to the source city and as slowly get to say hello to my destination. Fast but not too fast; long but not too long. The transition is supported by not just the changing landscapes, but also the gradually changing yummy eats that station vendors have to offer. and i never get to chill in life as much as i get to while on a train journey! hmmm!
In our discussions with friends, we often talk about how gadgets that we saw in sci-fi movies and our all time-favourite Star Trek, have now become part of life. Like the cellphone for instance. And then the thought that soon travel would get revolutionised as much - pretty soon we would get to the "Beam me up, Scotie!" days. Now how will i ever survive that?!
Saturday, May 17, 2008
What happens when a baby is born?
Yesterday, very good family friends of ours had their baby daughter and I spent a large part of my day in the hospital with them. And as I soaked in the beauty of this “zero-day old” baby and the absolute miracle of this birth, I couldn’t helped but notice how different a day becomes on an occasion as blessed as this.
Invariably the parents’ profiles are studied in great detail – whose ears, whose nose, whose forehead has the baby inherited. I have known both the new mom and dad for the last 10 odd years, but I swear I never starred at their noses as hard and as long as I did at the hospital yesterday!
We jump to typecast the little wonder! Oh she definitely looks like her brother! Ah! What long lovely fingers –definitely will grow to be an artist! A Taurean – gosh you better watch out!
A lot of back and forth conversations on how will life be from now on – hypotheses, opinions, advice free flowing and everyone, except the new parents, feeling quite smug that life ahead looks great!
A slowing down of sorts – friends, families arrive. Waiting for a glimpse of the baby (and then of course all the classifying starts all over again!) A friend even landed at the wrong hospital in her excitement! More importantly, the visitors linger on – maybe just five more minutes. No errands to run, no phone calls to attend to. And other than the new father, not many seemed to be concerned about the traffic outside! It’s a day to stop and marvel!
As for me, I have this real strong urge to be nice to everyone (don’t remember the last time I handed out so many warm smiles and thank yous to people around!) I feel like cleaning up the earth to make it more ready to hold this little baby and honour this blessing! And I swear, things around me look a lot brighter and nicer already!
Thank you, little one, for being part of my world and sharing this wonderful day with me :)
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Tonight i watch myself as i search for just the right book to read and see a deep reluctance i seem to have to simply be with my thoughts. In the dead silence of the night – i see myself running away from the questions that pop up, desperately seeking answers. And tonight i tell myself – let's stay with the questions....
Was i unduly harsh on my daughter today?
Am i being sensitive to the people i work with?
Am i pushing off my demons onto other people around me?
Am i doing enough or too much or too little for people i value?
Am i drifting away from people i value?
Why is it such a scary thing for me to think and act more independent?
How much to hold on to and how much to let go?
Did i say NO too many times to the kids i work with?
How come i seem to criticize more than appreciate?
Am i being honest with myself when i say "everything’s just fine"?
Am i being too dramatic?
Can i give up on being emotional and yet feel passionate about things in my life?
Will there be enough water in the world by the time my daughter becomes an adult?
Is my world safe?
Why is fairness in any situation so hard to get?
Will i ever look at myself in the mirror and love what i see?
Will i ever learn to let go of the past?
Is it too late to dream?
And as these questions start to untangle and get organized in this space, I feel an odd sense of peace. Maybe i will never find the answers but i do know now that these questions just don’t keep me awake – they keep me alive.
P.S. Last question for the night - Is blogging a better substitute to reading?
Thursday, May 8, 2008
We are watching TV (what else?!) and Nia catches a scene from a recent movie - Jodhaa Akbar - Hrithik Roshan wearing some kind of a crown. Nia’s immediate response “Look Mamma – he is wearing a crown like God. Is Hrithik God?” Fearing the wrath of the 1001 idols of Gods that adorn our house, I shush her. “No sweetheart, he is only playing the role of a king and so he has the crown” But Nia in her heart is convinced – “I think he IS God mamma!” and with great reverence, stands in front of the TV set, hands folded (can't really blame the child can I!!) My typical response where I feel foxed – “go ask your paati (grandmother) about Gods" who coincidentally is in the middle of her evening prayers!
Act 1: Scene 2- Tine 7:30 PM – At a fitness Centre - My first Bolloywood dance class
BIG mistake. To begin with – I am the only 30+ overweight person there. And Bollywood dancing seems to be the code word for “ridiculously fast-paced aerobics” which I wanted to avoid in the first place and hence this class. I feel like Gwyneth Paltrow out of Shallow Hal (except that is is NOT a fatsuit that I am wearing!).Turn in whatever direction, there is a monstrous mirror throwing this depressing scene back at you! Certainly not a good place to be in after my latest resolution to feel good about myself and my body. God! I had no idea Bollywood dancing is such a killer. Anyway, after 32 dislocations and complete exhaustion, I practically roll out of the class, promising myself that I shall try it out for another month before calling it quits! Beginnings of masochism?
Act 1 Scene 3 – Time 10:00 PM – Back at home - getting Nia to bed.
We have this little pillow talk every night – my baby and I - kinda talking about how the day was. As Nia drifts off to sleep, I can hear here little murmur, “Mamma, Hrithik Roshan is not God” I think about Hirthik making his moves on the dance floor and then I think about my own experience of Bollywood dancing. And as I pat my little darling to sleep, I murmur back, “He probably is love, he probably is!”