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Lost and Found

January 4, 2011

Yesterday morning I had a panic attack. I couldn’t find my iPod.
It totally sucks to go to the gym in the morning and not have an iPod because in the morning the gym will be empty. Why? Here in Trivandrum, majority of the young people who come to the gym are overweight and come only to drop the relevant kilos to look presentable, in most cases for their own weddings that may be say one month away. This majority never comes in by 6.00 AM. The next chunk of people are aunties older than 40 who have their doctors say-“go to the gym or never eat rice and chicken ever in your life”. So, they wander to the gym with bored eyes by around 11.00 AM, share gossip and watch some serial with the similarly bored instructor, limber up the treadmill for 2.8 minutes and leave.
In effect, when I go to the gym between 6.00 AM and 7.15 AM, there hardly is a soul around, not even the instructor. If there is no one around and you don’t even have some music to keep company, you tend to go slack and burn less than you would like to. So what’s the point going to the gym?
But then, just this reason shouldn’t warrant a panic attack.
My iPod is one of my most cherished gifts, ever. I could never replace it and I would never too. For once it is personalized and the sentimental value attached to it is immense! I remember the day, the time down to exact minute when it arrived by post.! I am quirky like that, yes, but I love love love my iPod. It reminds me of someone’s special smile at my glee on receiving it. It reminds me of early morning thoughts about someone. It reminds me of the wonderfulness of surprise gifts. I am such a sucker for surprise gifts and Jo only rarely does plan them, but when he does there is no surprise like that!
Yesterday morning my palms were sweaty just thinking how could lose it. I wanted to make the clock run faster just to be 8.00 so I could call my friend at office to check if it was there. I wanted to rummage through everything to find it back. Crap. I wanted it. badly.
I wanted to believe it was here somewhere, and since the room was being painted and I couldn’t just look since everything were in boxes, I let it lie and hoped like mad it would be somewhere safe.

Today afternoon, I randomly opened a box to pull out my scarf, when, lying snugly in it was the lost baby! Oh man, I couldn’t explain the relief. And the happiness that washed over me! Somehow, even with all the hope, I was almost sure someone had nicked it from me, cos I never let the thing out of my bag.

Ever contemplated how love ties umpteen memories together and brings so many different things into perspectives otherwise unperceived?

Happily,

Leya.

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A New Year and Some Thoughts

January 1, 2011

A lot of blogs have done their favourite memories from the year gone by. I was pondering over it too last week, but come to think of it, except a smattering of things here and there, I have very few changes to report from 2010. I am still at the same job, still at the same place and still doing almost the same things.
Some of the months were good, some were utterly boring. In the end I have decided that the post about 2010 will not happen. 2010 was stagnant so to speak. I was expecting a few things to happen, but they were pushed back and now I except the same to happen this year.

So, this year, the year 2011, is special. I have dreams connected with it, memories I would like to associate with it and fond changes that I would like to remember 2011 by.

I have goals about this year and some really serious resolutions; one of them is of course to write more here. Looking back, my resolutions have always in some way or another intertwined with some other people hopes and aspirations. This way, I end up not getting what I wish I should. This year too I have some such changes I wish would happen, but most are connected to me, so I hope they materialise.

Most importantly, I hope and wish that, same time next year, I will jump at the chance to do a year in review 2011 post. A post filled with pleasant changes, inspiring things, and dreams an inch closer.

So till next year,

HAVE A GREAT, HAPPY, DREAMY AND FABULOUS NEW YEAR!

Dream!

December 20, 2010

So yesterday I go to bed thinking of bad thoughts about Monday. Ka Boom! God decides he can no longer think my musings are any interesting on Mondays, so, my dear ones, in my dreams he lets me see this guy.

Now in my dreams, I am getting all the kinks of watching Bond and drooling over his antics, when;

after a dream moment, I get to see this guy.

How great is that now?! How charming is his leathery face, and his accent! I die.

And after a dream moment and lingering for a dream minute longer, my favoriteeeee guy in the whole universe!!

Tadaaaaaaaa!!!!!!

Now, that, my friends, is a great dream! So when I get up, I have a nice smile on my face, sun shining off my eyes and a feeling that Mondays can’t get any better that this!

Love,

Leya! Laughing on a Monday!

Random Thoughts on Mondays

November 29, 2010

• Why are weekdays long and weekends short?
• What percentage of people all over the world is truly happy on a Monday?
• Translation: Who are those people happy at work?
• Do these people arrange meet-ups?
• Long distance love?
• How many pegs of the strongest scotch for does it take for one to pack ones belongings and run away on the longest vacation ever?
• How would that vacation be?
• Sunny/Stormy/lovely/surprising?
• Why does one work?
• Do they make fat free snacks that taste like the real ones?
• Cake n ice-cream, fries, double crust cheese pizza with extra cheese- Can one marry them?
• How does one measure ones worth?

(image courtesy this blog: http://sandjmackaro.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html)

That’s all. Author cannot confirm if the person having random thoughts on Mondays is the author. Maybe. Maybe not.

Love,

Author.

Eve Teasing Tales

November 28, 2010

Disclaimer: This post is peppered with advises/anecdotes/musings/bewilderment.

Some of the stupidest people are met during train journeys, and bus journeys and walking the streets of any random place. These are the particular breed of males called eve teasers. No city can ever be rid of them, no police officer with tricky ideas like the women police officer fly trap can stop them and no girl can escape from the dirty verbal tirades.
My first real experience with eve teasers was the time I was traveling by one of the government buses, crowded and sweaty. I was in uniform, white shirt and skirt. As if from nowhere this dirty hand grabs my bottom. I cannot forget that first time ever, because of three reasons- the initial reaction of shock and disgust, the quick eye contact followed by the strongest stamping on the man’s foot; his flinching and the third being, after reaching home and pondering, the hilarity I found in the whole act of what that man was doing. After all, this is such a short time span- how does a man finds any happiness out of it?!
Anyway, there were several other instances, and I have been least tolerant towards it.
Most times I do one of these two things- Bad mouthing them loudly using the choicest nouns, adjectives and verbs that one is forbidden to use, and showing them THE finger.
In my violent mind, I have once almost kicked a guy’s ass out of the bus steps and almost spit on another. My end dialogue is cliché’ but I still love it” Why the eff don’t you go see a neurosurgeon?” I bet many girls do the same things. And those that don’t need to. I also strongly preach the need for every damsel to come to help for another in distress and call attention to the aforementioned breed. Afterall, they cannot be stopped, but they can be embarrassed and made fun of.

This breed doesn’t make eye contact, so if you can strongly stare at them, please do. It has worked wonders for me, Also, these days, as I am a little more gorwn up, I don’t want an eve teaser to finish his sentence. So as soon as he starts, I ll cut him down with a sharp “entha/What the eff/kya kaha, why the eff do you bother, ninakku nashtamonnumillallo (What is your loss)”. Most are actually a little flushed when you say this, so they will probably stop and stare, by the time you can walk/drive off or they would mumble something incoherent which makes no sense to you or them so it is fine. Sometimes it becomes so funny that you can do all but laugh. I mean how can you not if a man old enough to be your great grandfather makes the most lurid comment you have heard? So laugh, but retort.

These people don’t really bother what dress a girl is wearing. Wear a saree, or a churidar with the chunni traditionally laid out, you will still be preyed upon. So whatever is that the feminist ladies, college principals and a certain lady gynecologist in Chennai are braying about western wear to be banned may please talk to this particular breed once just so that you know we girls are not lying.

(image courtesy: http://connect.in.com/eve-teasing/images-eve-teasing-images-eve–1-316256167481.html)

For all the girls and ladies- Beware of them, but make them suffer.
For all the men – Is it genetic mutation of some sort?
Passing thought: Why are there no women eve teasers? No women gropers? Anyone ever came up with an answer to that question? ( I can think of hundreds of answers right now, but I don’t want this post to be shady rated!)

PS: I am certainly not talking about those who resort to evil groping, acid throwing, or the coming to rape breed of men, because these don’t fall into the breed we were discussing. These fall into Capital Punishment wannabes category.

An Indian Education-Part I

November 27, 2010

My cousin’s daughter is starting school this year.
So, like any well-to-do young parent, my cousin chose one of the new, upcoming and much talked about school in Trivandrum. For starters, the kid went to kindergarten in this school; also much talked about, although both were different entities.

However, what I cannot possibly fathom is the donation that they are imposing. I mean, how can one justify an unquestioned Rs 60,000 at the start of first standard? Fees, I hear are extra. So are the cost for books, and the umpteen other activities the school professes on its website. Also there is no document that normalizes the donation, in simpler terms this means, be ready to shell out donations as and when the school requires you to. How does a parent really decide which school his or her kids go to? My cousin’s kid grows up with grandparents who criticize everything modern and un-Hindu like. Yet when it comes for the kid’s education, the school considered is based ONLY upon where the richer and influential ones send their kids to.

I am sure that the growth of the school was based primarily on Technopark and the freshly minted foreign currency from onsite assignments. A few sent their children there and the rest just followed. “Oh Mr Great manager’s boy goes to this school. So it must be good. Let us get our child there too.” This mentality is not my imagination at all. I have many dear friends whose kids go to the said school. And then people like my cousin, with hard core Hindutwa wadi in laws still send their children to mini skirt wearing classrooms because of the word called prestige.
What better way to define prestige than scent it from the voice of the young father whose child studies in a better school? Or the mother whose girl can read the Hamlet when she was 5 years and 7 months?

The school is no extra special than any other. It follows the same ICSE curriculum and lists a few other certificates in its website. It says holistic learning, but isn’t that the most abused word in the Indian education sector? The parents who are proud of their kids sporting the said school tag argue that it gives them loads of extra work. Like reading a paper everyday and talking about that article. Insightful, I say. My school 10 years ago asked to do the same thing at a price of Rs 120 per three months. I cannot understand how giving homework is different from other schools. Also my frustration is by no means satiated by the fact that promoting reading by asking parents to enroll children in the library and discuss books is worthy of the donation. How does that justify the school’s contribution?

I don’t have children yet and I am unsure of where I would want them to study when they grow up, but I PROTEST the very existence of such commercial fleecing stations that call for donations without any explanation, and parents who pay them without question.

My cousin has not researched a single school for the curriculum, or extra curricular activities or promotion of values or the classrooms or the general environment of a school. Shouldn’t all these things at least be considered? How can the value of the quality of education be measured by the donation being asked for?

On the other hand, what is education after all in India? It is STILL nothing but an instrument for getting marks and grabbing on to a plum job; a job that pays well enough to send your kid to expensive schools whether the job makes you happy or not. How long are we going to continue going round in this circle? Even now there are only a choice few who follow what their heart says, the rest just follow along the beaten path, round and round and round.

How long would it take for parents to understand what education they would like to give their children and how to look for them in schools? And how long since we have schools that will be able to recognize a child’s talents and promote them?

The women in my life

November 26, 2010

When I think of the women who matter in my life, two things come to my mind- Strong, and funny.
For a start, take my mother. I may have 100 million differences of opinion and 201 million fights with her on a given day, but there is no denial that she is a strong woman. Strong willed although emotional, a tad too uncompromising on morals for my liking (I think, Mr. Manu from the old ages was who she inherited this trait from) and silly but not so much. And man is she funny! Her punch lines come in the most unexpected times and they tickle in the most stupid ways.

All my close friends are strong too and funny. Thanks to them, I grew up understanding jokes and appreciating the good way of life. My best friend from the school days is an only daughter, but not spoiled or pampered and always gets a great joke. My childhood to teenage to ladyhood to wifehood to mommyhood (overshot! I stop) friends too are characterized by emotional toughness and an oh so ahmazing ability to crack naughty jokes. How I adore those evenings with them. We ll all sit and share the latest from hidden Cosmopolitans and discuss the intricacies of a particularly raunchy article. And think of independent apartments and weekend gateways! Those were the good times.
My girl friends would never give a damn about the 0.005 th percentage of a mark that the topper got more than her and cry over it to her mommy, yet they are all doing great now, following what they love.

When I went to the dump of a college to study Engineering, the thing that bothered me enough to contemplate running away the first week was lack of any sensible girl at the hostel. But as days turned to weeks and back benches were filled with like minded females, I found my two closest friends-to-be at the chemistry class where, incidentally, they murmured a joke and suddenly I felt like coming home from Kargil. We stuck together through stupid classes, gross exam questions and marks that went down to the deep throes of earth. Frequent attempts by one of them to move to the front bench to study were defeated by the quirkiness we shared and she would come back to the back bench to celebrate life our way. They were strong too and funny. And truth to tell, I would not have survived four years of crappy college without them.

The girls I love from work are also people who can get a good joke. I miss all my friends at work (most moved on to greener pastures*sigh*) who were women enough to ward of a great joke with another great one. How wonderful were our coffee breaks that were laced with dollops of sarcasm and self criticism? And how I miss all my friends who wouldn’t cry and go red and be u.t.m.o.s.t embarrassing at a good joke! Like below:

Scene: Bunch of females in office sharing gossip over lunch.

Dialogue direction: Discussion is on Ranbeer Kapoor and his latest interview; his milestones at turning 18 and how do I put it subtly; his adventures from the latter parts of a day. (Those who don’t get it may discontinue reading. Period.)

Discussion slowly turns to making comments on newly married people and their thoughtful insights on the intricacies of life.

Also jokes are made about the unmarried people in the group.

So, I, out of my old habit, which I had discontinued for a while, because the audience was a tad backward, smile and say to the friend I am more close to in the group.

“Ha, why do you worry about these things? Just make sure that you never marry a doctor. “

The said friend goes all red and shouts at me and says these exact things “Mind your words ok. IN BOLD).

Riiight. How do you judge a woman who cannot understand the FIRST twisted joke a girl learns? When will the said genre of woman, whose existence I was unsure of, learn it?

Tagline: – The said friend is now an ex-friend.
– Also, I understand you might have noticed I used intricacies twice. I am just fascinated by this word today.

And since no post is really complete without a picture, here is a thumbnail of my best friend on her wedding day. 🙂 She looks so radiant!

Love,

Leya