Thursday, November 27, 2008

Encounters of the Pleasant Kind



Yesterday was hectic - it involved a police station, a stamp vendor and a magistrate. Are you thinking what I think you're thinking? Nah, not even close. It wasn't anything dramatic - just the loss of my degree certificate. Indian red tape can be mind-numbingly frustrating. And when I was told that I had to file a complaint over the lost certificate with the police, I almost gave up. The police then had to issue a statement after verifying that the loss is genuine. This statement has to be attached to the application and a magistrate has to sign. But the bright spot in my day was the stamp vendor. When I stepped into the unprepossessing little cubby hole, I looked at all the debris and wondered why I was there. I needed a letter/affidavit on Government stamped/franked paper. Could the lady who looked like an unlettered rustic help me out? The next few minutes were a revelation. She not only understood immediately but took out the correct proforma / template and typed out the whole affidavit flawlessly. She then printed it, told me where to sign and zip, zap, zoom - I was out. Her efficiency and wonderful attitude impressed me and I was amazed to find that in spite of her slap-dash attire, she was more professional than a lot of so-called professionals I know.

Here's to you , dear unknown stamp-vendor! You made my day.

Have been reading: Venetia, by Georgette Heyer and The Clicking of Cuthbert by P.G. Wodehouse

Monday, November 24, 2008

Saturday Night Out


[Picture Courtesy:www.nicedogs.net/dog_breeds/Pugs/index.html]

The sound of wine glasses clinking decorously, the sound of unbridled laughter, attentive hosts hovering to make sure you're comfortable.....we had a great time last Saturday. There's nothing like a get-together with friends, who you've been to college with, and who understand the arcane code words of those days, is there? A feast of reason and flow of soul? Not likely. Just a lot of ribald laughter, some good-natured ribbing and oh, lest I forget, the most adorable pug dog nosing his way into the chicken.

I got to sample a Sula Shiraz/Merlot - not too sweet, very refreshing. Not that I know much about wines. Most of the time, I was badgering the pug - who was remarkably good-natured about it, I might add! Our hosts were throwing this small, intimate party to introduce us to their new house - which was magnificently done up in a combination of Indo-Colonial styles. I loved the number of French windows that gave out on the lawns - the house must be beautiful in the daytime, I imagine, with all the sunlight and greenery. Seen at night, the house was very decorous but with a lot of intimate spaces for the family to lounge around when they feel like it. A piano brought in the Victorian touch and a Chola bronze copy accentuated the Indian in the spacious hall.


All in all, an evening to remember! Thanks D and S!

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Winter is here!



It's colder in the mornings and there's condensation on the glass windows - sure signs of the onset of winter. Also, the maidservant comes in late - another sure sign! Though it doesn't really get cold in Hyderabad (temperatures rarely go below 10 degrees C), the change in season is welcome.
The days are brilliant with sunshine, dusk sets in by 5 PM with the mingled smells of exhaust, wood fires and of dusty,decaying leaves. The streets are quieter, emptier and the shadows seem darker around the streetlights as they cast orange pools on the roads.
But the upside : there are more birds on the pomegranate , guava and mango trees in my backyard. The din they set up in the mornings is a welcome marker to the start of the day. They quarrel noisily over the fruit or while foraging in the dead leaves for insects. The Plumeria (champa) tree loves the sun and starts to shed leaves and will turn bare by the end of December. The Poinciana (gulmohar) tree luckily doesn't lose all its leaves but keeps shedding them like yellow confetti throughout the season.The skies seem bluer and the clouds mere puffs of cotton wool.
It's so hard to get my family out of bed and going in this season. They will groan and burrow deeper into their pillows to get me to stop pestering them to wake up. The sound of the alarm clock is the most hated thing in the house during these months:-)
Winter is the season for craft fairs and exhibitions in Hyderabad - perfect weather for shopping till you drop! This is also the season that we get to flaunt our sweaters and shawls, caps and scarves.
When I was a student in engineering college, I remember being amazed at the plethora of woollens available in Delhi. The women I knew thought nothing of wearing sweaters, pullovers or woollen stoles to match the outfits they wore! As a South Indian, my limit was a neutral colored sweater bought once every two years. After all, you got to use the sweater only for two months in the year.
I buy my sweaters at Bulchand's (which has now opened in Banjara Hills too) in Abids and at Monte Carlo, if I can find my size. Thanks to the craft fairs, we now have access to Kashmiri shawls and Nagaland/Manipuri shawls of bewildering variety.


Image courtesy: www.kohimaeducationaltrust.net


Have been reading: Loves Music, Loves to Dance by Mary Higgins Clark, some book by Lee Child that's putting me to sleep.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

A Historic Win!




THE COLOR PURPLE

Watching the Presidential race for most of this year,2008, was very interesting. As an Indian, I'm not going to pretend that I understood it all - but I have to say this: no Presidential tussle generated the kind of suspense and expectation that this one did. I remember being vaguely interested in John Kerry and Ross Perot and other such Pretenders to the Throne - but Obama galvanized the world's attention and I've been watching the campaign closely. Since I'm neither Democrat nor Republican, this victory makes no difference to me. But as a world citizen, I'm compelled by the event itself to see that America has truly come a long way in terms of prejudice and color. Obama is probably not the silver bullet to right all wrongs but, hey! He got there, didn't he? That makes it possible for all non-white communities to dream. I wonder if Martin Luther King is up there, watching. As are the shades of all those African-Americans from the past.

Whether he can fulfil his campaign promises will be another story..um..post.

All power to you, Mr. President!

Monday, November 3, 2008

My Birthday and Assorted Impressions



It was my birthday last Saturday and I had a great time ushering in the big four-oh. My Mom and DH gave me presents - clothes and jewellery, loads of friends mailed or called, my daughter wished me and helped me cut a cake in spite of her busy schedule. It was a bright, sunny day - typical of the onset of winter. A slight nip in the breeze, yellowing leaves and bright, blue sky - perfect! The chocolate cake was just right and Mom cooked me a few of my favorites.


So, what's it actually like? Being 40? Not much changes, really:-) A few more aches than I would like but I'm essentially the same. It's been a good year - I managed to make up my mind about certain things that I want to do and I have my family's support. Excised a few toxic relationships that were wearing me out with their shallowness and lack of true warmth. My health is miles better and I did manage to keep my New Year resolutions of eating well and exercising regularly. My pigeons now eat out of my hand when I feed them. The turtle doves come waddling by to ask for their grain. My daughter is settled into a groove and seems better at handling stuff now. DH is going through a paradigm shift in terms of responsibility - life's good!

Have been reading: Holy Blood, Holy Grail by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh and Henry Lincoln, Sparkling Cyanide by Agatha Christie (for the nth time!), Where are you now? by Mary Higgins Clark (pulse-pounding suspense)

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Post Diwali Blues



Wow! It's been a long time since I last posted. What can I say? Diwali is the all-consuming festival and I have been so busy the last week preparing for the Festival of Lights. Rooms to be cleaned and dusted, cobwebs all swept away, buying sweets and new clothes - it's been a hectic time and I loved every minute. Probably because this festival is all about family bonding time. I decorated the door and gate with marigold garlands, had a kumkum and haldi rangoli adorn the front of the gate and lighted diyas with sesame oil and cotton wicks (like in the picture). We performed the Lakshmi Pooja in the evening to usher in prosperity and lit a few fireworks. The rest of the evening was spent in watching a movie.
Now that all the excitement is gone, I feel like one of those flowerpots on the roads - all spent and empty:-) To get over the post Diwali blues, I'm going to post the recipes for my festival foods.

Medhu Vada (or Vadais) are fried lentil snacks shaped like doughnuts. A must for every auspicious occasion, this festival food is simple to make.

MEDHU VADA RECIPE

2 cups of urad dal/ split black gram lentils/ minapa pappu soaked overnight
1 cup finely chopped onion
2-3 chillies sliced finely (skip if you don't like your vada too spicy)
1 tsp cumin/jeera/jillakarra
Salt to taste (about 2 tsps)
Sunflower Oil and wok for deep frying
A square of plastic sheet or a banana leaf
A small bowl of water

Grind the lentils along with the salt in a mixer-grinder or wet-grinder, adding as little water as possible as you don't want the batter to get too runny. The resultant batter should be a smooth sticky paste. Mix in the chopped onion, chillies and cumin. Place the square of plastic sheet or banana leaf on a chopping board and keep a bowl of water handy.
Place the wok on the stove and pour oil in it. Light the stove and keep it at medium-hot. The oil should get really hot but should not smoke.
Wet the sheet/leaf so that batter does not stick to it.
The batter will be really sticky, so dip your hand in the bowl and form it into a little ball the size of an orange, by tossing it a little. Place it on the sheet / leaf and spread till it is flattened. Dip your finger in water and make a hole in the center of this flattened vada. Use the sheet to slip the vada into the hot oil. Be careful! The oil may splutter. If the oil is hot enough, the vada should rise, bubbling, to the surface.
Wait for a little and turn the flame down to low, so that the vada cooks through. The perfect vada is crunchy, deep golden-brown on the outside and deliciously soft on the inside. Like so,


[Picture courtesy:http://www.vahrehvah.com/ Go check out the recipes there!]

Vadas are served with coconut/peanut/tomato chutney or sambar. Enjoy!

Have been reading: Harry Potter series again, Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson: The Battle of the Labyrinth, P G Wodehouse's Piccadilly Jim

Friday, October 17, 2008

One last thing!


Oh and before I leave you all for the weekend, I couldn't resist this last post, sort of like 'one for the road' picture. Awwwwwwwww - isn't he adorable!
All you want to do is cuddle him and scratch his ears!

It's a FRIDAY!

It's been a week since I last posted and I did promise myself that I would be more diligent. Ah, well! Promises were meant to be broken:-) It's a FRIDAY! What more can I say? I feel like a bird let out of the cage. But Saturday means a lot of pending chores (grrrr!) to catch up on. And Sunday means lots of cooking (sigh!). I wish a weekend was three days - so that I could spend one day just recovering from Saturday and Sunday:-) I keep wanting to look like this:


But end up looking like this:


LOL!

My DH is home and that means we'll probably watch a movie or two. My daughter will be too busy preparing for her Monday test. Poor kid - it's like she's been locked up in a prison and someone's thrown the key away.

I am currently reading the last three Harry Potter books again along with a P G Wodehouse. Which reminds me - I need to go buy some more books. My daughter has a Rick Riordan that I'll read after she finishes. Both of us couldn't progress beyond the second Stephanie Meyer book - too little plot and too much embellishment. I'll post again next week. See you later, folks!

Friday, October 10, 2008

Haiku : Word Picture Poetry

Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry with strict restrictions on the number of syllables. In English, haiku are usually written in three lines that consist of five, seven, and five syllables to resemble the three metrical phrases of a Japanese haiku.

My attempts at haiku :


On the monsoon:

Raindrops drum on glass,
Runnels form patterns in dirt,
Nature’s play unfolds.

Wet roads, slick pavements,
Signals blinking blearily,
Traffic swirls and pools.

Lightning rips the skies,
Clouds rumble ominously,
The heavens weep tears.

Newly washed blue skies,
Rainbow on the horizon,
Where are you, my heart?

On work:

Ties that bind and choke,
Salaries do not feed souls,
But wolves snarl at doors.

A four walled prison,
Desiccated lives and hopes,
Power play and games.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Good Egg!

[Source:www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/w/p-g-wodehouse/ge...]


Today is my day for a doff of the hat to a master wordsmith - P G Wodehouse. I'm reading a Psmith omnibus and like every time I read it, I'm chuckling insanely to myself all the time. Psmith's verbose flights of fancy and his habit of using at least ten words where one will do - coupled with the classic English dry humour - still charm the reader across all these years. It isn't the zany situations Wodehouse's characters get themselves into, it's the way he takes a threadbare plot and spins into a wonderful, light confection. A review I once read compared his works to souffle - and I agree. My personal favourites are Bertie Wooster and Lord Emsworth - could anyone be more dim-witted than these two? Hilarious! For a paean to Wodehouse, read Stephen Fry's article: http://www.pgwodehousebooks.com/fry.htm. Stephen Fry played Jeeves in television adaptations of the Wooster chronicles. Whenever life creeps up and catches you like the down express in the back, to use a Wodehousian simile, all you have to do is curl up with a Wodehouse creation and allow him to do some gentle healing. If there's a golf links up there, with a whisky and soda , and a comfortable smoke at the end of the day, Mr. Wodehouse, I hope you are getting yours.


[Source:http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/1574698/P-G-Wodehouse-fan-reveals-the-real-life-Jeeves.html]



Monday, September 29, 2008

Manic Monday

Does anyone recall that old hit by the band Bangles - 'Just another Manic Monday?' And so, here I am, it's another Manic Monday. It starts with my daughter being in a foul mood because she's starting her half-yearly exams and has to wake up early. I'm still trying to tide over the weekend sleep-deficit by trying not to doze and fall over into the eggs:-) Coax unwilling daughter into eating a chapathi and omelet. See her off on her way to college.
And, disaster - maid-servant's late! What to do? Do I start cleaning up? Or should I wait? This time, I tell myself, I'm going to get rid of her. But where will I find another one? I can't do all the cleaning, washing, cooking and still go to work in the morning. She arrives, at last, with her trademark sheepish grin. After she's done, feed the pigeons - they've been waiting patiently for their millet. They coo and gurgle and show off. Then run downstairs to make coffee for a still-sleeping husband. Curse a little at how all men have it so easy and then curse myself for spoiling him so utterly. Bath. Pooja. Pack lunch. Where are my clothes? I never have enough clothes to wear. Never mind that the recent painting job has left about 6 bags full of old clothes in the downstairs bedroom. Take the plunge and dive into traffic. There's this lunatic who thinks he can squeeze between two cars as if he's two-dimensional. Traffic lights - a beggar knocks at the window. I could cheerfully strangle him but hunt around in my overcrowded purse for a coin. Traffic starts again like racers in the Grand Prix. Try to find a parking place in the basement. All places taken. Swear and curse. Go back to ground level to park. Lift takes an infernal time and I'm trying not to drum my fingers or kick the door. Sign in. Open door and switch on the lights in the cabin. My Manic Monday has just begun.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

His love for her was deep, he said
Deeper than the Marianas Trench,
What was about it then?
That left such a stench?
She smelt a rat,
Or was it a mouse?
He was in such a hurry
To bag him a spouse
Was it her plum job?
Was it her beauteous eyes,
He praised her cooking,
And her laughter, to the skies.
His love for her was deep, he said
He's convinced her that he cares,
He’s a hunter, he is, that man
He lays careful snares.
All the while he dissembles,
‘I don’t want a 'phuti cowrie’
And all the time, he was
Eyeing her fat dowry.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Dear Diary....


Don't you just love reading the 'Dear Diary..' kind of books? Like 'Daddy-Long-Legs' or Olivia? I wish I had a diary habit too - but since I don't , this blog will probably be the nearest to it. I'm at a cross-roads in my life - talk about mid-life crisis! Behind me I see the tough journey that I've been through and ahead, lies uncertainty. Like every other Indian parent, I worry a lot about my daughter (scond from left, front row, in the photo) and what lies in her future. Did we make the right decisions? Was I right to let her choose the path she's taken? Should we have counselled her against her choice? Parenting can be very agonizing at times.
I'm not sure what my next step should be. I feel like I'm at the very edge of the cliff ( shades of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, eh?) - either I plunge into the abyss or I find my wings and fly. But I'm sure I'll fly.

Here comes the sun!



The clouds have let up for the moment and we've had a patch of sunny weather. Blue skies are back again - yippee!
September is a month for memories. My grandfather's birthday is at the end of the month and whenever September comes around - we tend to reminisce about him a lot. And boy, was he ever a character! Peppery, irritable, fractious, witty, acid-tongued and with very little patience for fools - he dominated our lives as the original paterfamilias. His grandchildren were always a little scared of him, I think - me , least of all , as his eldest grandchild - because we never knew where the next irritable remark was coming from. But he was like the banyan tree - in whose nurturing shade, we were protected and shielded. And that's something you realize when you leave home for the first time and step out into the big, bad world.

As part of an extended family, in a typical patriarchal system, girls generally get the short end of the stick. But strangely for a man of his age and social mores, my grandfather was unequivocal in his support of the female child. When I wanted to leave home to study in the far off north, he was my strongest supporter. When I had a falling-out with my in-laws, he was my rock. My grandmother trotted out the usual arguments about how a girl should learn patience and adjustment (yeah, right!) but he was so proud of me for having struck back at the Empire.

He was a repository of tales and reminiscences - my cousins will remember the one about the tiger and the one about the scary footsteps at night especially. His feisty comeback after his strokes never ceased to amaze us. Nor did he miss a chance at exasperating us with his insistence that he was absolutely fine. From a humble background, he climbed to the rather rarefied heights of a conferred IAS and headed the APSRTC as Director, Operations and APSTC as well. My daughter remembers him as a very old man, her great-grandfather, who taught her to say 'Kanakaambaram', when she couldn't pronounce the word.

How happy he was to see her when she was born, when I got home from hospital! And his reaction was so typical too; I was admonished for not holding her properly and he told me not to drop her!:-) And then, in spite of our outcry, he insisted on carrying her so he could see her face properly. In his waning years, he would sit out on the porch in winter, in the sun, falling asleep over the newspaper. But woe betide anyone who thought him a faded old man - he would spring up into wakefulness like a tiger and could argue the proverbial hind foot off a donkey when he chose to.

When I think of him, he seems like a beacon, shining strongly down the years, guarding us against rocky shoals and steering all of us to safe passage. May god bless his soul!

Friday, August 29, 2008

Monsoon Musings

It's monsoon season and out come the dusty umbrellas, the raincoats and the old gumboots from the closets. Eulogized in numerous songs and ballads, the Indian monsoon brings relief to a baking subcontinent after the travails of summer and is the mainstay of the agricultural industry, not to mention the major source of hydel power.
It's raining and you know what they say - it never rains but it pours! And pour it does, reducing roads to slush with evil looking puddles and traffic to an impossibly entangled snarl. Damp clothes, musty homes, late maid-servants, crotchety auto drivers add to all the other woes of the season. On the bright side, however, the garden raises it's weary head and begins to look green and healthy again. When the harsh summer sun leaches the plants of the will to live, they grow depressingly yellow and sickly. The rain brings all the dramatic color back and you can almost see the plants perk up and decide that life's good after all! The patch of no-man's land behind my house is now a confused green tangle of growth with purple Ipomoea dotting it here and there - very colorful!
And when the sun comes out after a bout of heavy rain, everything looks newly washed - even the sky! My pigeons don't care too much about the rain but they look so bedraggled and wet that I wonder what they do when it rains continuously for three days - a rather common occurrence during the Indian monsoon.
Rainy days are also time for warm cookies, puffs or cakes , crisp pakoras or vegetable frittata and cups of steaming tea! Warm razais to snuggle under and a suitably spine-chilling mystery to read - aaahhhh, Heaven!
Right then, it's reality check time, off I go - back to my mundane job and responsibilities - I'll post again later.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Return to Nature


My obsession with Coonoor is a life-long one. It was exhilarating to visit this summer and get back in touch with all my favorite spots. But it was kind of sad to see that nobody seems to be investing in the place.
My old schools (see photo for Stanes High School, Coonoor) are going strong but could do with some cash inflows. And Lower Coonoor definitely is very crowded. So when I read about one family's gesture to make a difference - I can't help rhapsodying about it. They've left behind a very rich lifestyle and a Bollywood heritage to run a 22 acre farm where they are looking at organic produce, biogas driven energy and organically made cheese. Kudos to them! Visit them to know more at:
http://www.acres-wild.com/

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Coonoor - Sights to See





The moment Coonoor is mentioned to any of the taxi drivers, it elicits the same response - 'Ah! Sims' Park' and a sage nod of the head. Like as if this entire town were built around just the one place of note that tourists can flock to. Tourists do flock to Sims' Park but there are plenty of other places to see in and around Coonoor.



Sims' Park on a sunny afternoon is like a slice of paradise tucked away in a forgotten corner. The sun tries vainly to break through the gloom of thousands of trees, some of them more than a century old, and light up the emerald lawns and sloping paths that make up about eight levels of this Victorian garden. Botanical specimens, duly labelled, from all corners of the Empire were brought in and laid out amidst this hollow around an ornamental lake, replete with pergolas, summerhouses and clipped hedges. We sat on the lawns and breathed in the fragrance of eucalyptus, pine and wintergreen while thousands of birds called and cooed far above us. A fruit show held here in May is the event of note and many tourists flock here to visit during that time.

Up ahead of Sims' Park, Lamb's Rock, Dolphin's Nose and Lady Canning's Seat are all noted view points and on a clear day, we can see a dizzying vista of smoky blue mountains, green valleys, winding roads right down to the sultry plains. Lady Catherine's Falls can also be seen cascading in milky white in the distance. The journey to these places (about 8-12 kms from Coonoor town) is just as enchanting - you pass through shola forests so thick that the sun cannot penetrate the thick cover of eucalyptus, oak and pine. Ferns and moss grow beside oozing rock that channel many a mountain stream that comes to sight unexpectedly round a bend. Birds like the red vented Himalayan bulbul or the canary flycatcher call and colorful flowers grow by the wayside. Manicured tea bushes grow on the slopes of the mountains as you keep climbing upward. The feeling of getting away from it all is very pronounced as each winding bend takes you to your destination.


I just wish the Government would pay a little more attention and make these places neater and easier to reach by repairing the roads more often.
At Dolphin's Nose, we bought tea grown in the nearby Singara and Adderley estates - rose tea, ginger tea, chocolate tea and broken Orange Pekoe. And eucalyptus oil, wintergreen oil, clove oil. Spices are found in abundance, thanks to the foresight of planters who often interspersed the tea bushes with spice trees, teak and pepper vines.

Needlecraft: On our way back from Dolphin's Nose, we stopped at Needlecraft, on the Singara Estate. Needlecraft is situated at a lovely vantage point at the truly beautiful Erin Villa- a tourist spot in itself. Erin Villa dates back to British times and is surrounded by a garden with a fountain and summerhouse. Quaint and so much a symbol of the Coonoor experience that you expect a roaring fire and chocolate cakes once you're inside the cool, dark interior. Exquisitely embroidered napkins, serviettes, bedsheets, bedspreads, pillowcovers, cushion covers and handkerchiefs in petit-point, cross-stitch, satin stitch and herring-bone are their forte. The prices are steep however , with a pair of pillowcases costing Rs 280/- , but for a good cause as the lady who owns the place tells us. The money goes towards supporting convents - so I guess that's fine.
Outside Sims' Park is the Pomological Station- where research on fruits is conducted along with growing of hybrids and Pasteur's Institute - only one of two in all of India, that manufactures anti-rabies vaccine. You can purchase nutmeg jelly, pear jam , strawberry jelly or loquat jelly - to name just a few, at the Pomological Station.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Coonoor - Misty Blue Mountains



Coonoor is a rather sleepy tea town - at least , that's what the usual description of this small town nestled in the Nilgiri mountains says. To me, it wasn't sleepy at all. As a child, there was always so much to do and discover. I traipsed around the place without let or hindrance, much to my mother's disapproval of my skinned knees and windblown hair. I climbed grassy hill sides, ate berries, plucked ferns, played with friendly calves or goats and went flower-picking with my friends. Coonoor was a safe place then and thirty years later, it doesn't seem to have changed in that respect. But lower Coonoor has gotten more crowded and jaded, the traffic has increased manifold and where once, a gentle quiet reigned, the raucous honking of cars fills the air.
Upper Coonoor hasn't changed very much, thank God! Both St. Joseph's Anglo-Indian Convent for Girls and Stanes High School are still the same. The familiar sights of the chapel and nuns' living quarters at the first and the logo of 'Nisi Dominus Frustra' at the other were welcome to my eyes. The principal's cottage where we once stole strawberries from, was shut but evoked many memories - rotund Mr. Wood and his beautiful daughter Anne, his fat Labrador, Simba, basking in the sun. Funny how childhood impressions are so strong!
The Ritz Hotel is now Velan Ritz and wears a tired look. Its signature stuffed bison is gone - I hope to a far gentler place than on earth. The Raja of Chettinad's summer dwelling is still shrouded in royal mystery behind forbidding gates. The green expanse of the Golf Links glitters in the afternoon sunshine just as it did thirty years ago. Wellington's Defence College is still a stern off-limits place. How can a town stand still in time and yet change so much in other respects? It was undiluted pleasure for me and my family to see that the ghat roads still gave on the most incredible views. The roads were bad in parts but motorable. The road repair gangs fight an eternal battle against the incessant rain that turns many roads into slush and gravel. But once you grit your teeth through that ordeal, journey's end can be a heart-lifting panorama of valleys and blue peaks shrouded in the shola forests with microscopic roads winding through them.
And the names! Exotic, decadently Victorian names. Hill View, Orange Grove, Clovelly, Llanelly, Pleasant View, Glendale, Wallwood Garden, Hampton Court, Quail Hill, Figure-of-Eight Road. If it wasn't for the steady hum of Tamil and Malayalam all around you, you would think that you were back in the Raj and even now, a sola-topee clad English officer will ride out from the hidden bend in the road. I know that as a patriotic Indian I shouldn't say this - but I have to give those long-forgotten, intrepid Englishmen their due. They persevered in a strange land far from home and laid roads, railways, gardens and churches that even today give Coonoor its unique flavour. God bless their memory!
Next post - Places to See!

Summer trip to the Hills

I'm just back (very reluctantly, I may add!) from a short vacation in the Nilgiris. I was brought up there as a child and haven't visited since my father's passing away. So, in many ways, this was a trip down memory lane. I love the mountains and their sense of isolation- with each hairpin bend that you cross, you can feel the human trappings peel away - layer by layer. All the dust, the noise, the frenetic pace seems to fall behind in the face of those stone massifs, which stare back at you impassively as they seem to mock our mere human existence. The birds and monkeys , the abundant and verdant foliage - it's like a different world. Mountain streams are a-plenty, a wondrous sight to watch as they cascade over weathered rock like silver.
Well, we stayed at Coonoor because from experience, I knew that Ooty would be more crowded with tourists. Tourists are a big no-no for my family - all of us love solitude and a leisurely, laid-back holiday away from the swarming hordes.
The place we stayed in, Hillworth Resorts, was a big surprise - a brand-new offering from the MGM family with about 10 suites done up in the decor of the bygone days of the British Raj. A four poster bed that needed steps to climb up on to it was a delight - as were the spotless furniture and bathrooms. Vintage newspaper cuttings encased in glass added a quaint touch to the walls.
The view was to die for - just a vista of trees and blue, misty hills over which a golden sun would come creeping up to catch us in its rays. We had breakfasts in the brilliantly sun-lit restaurant with bulbuls and magpies serenading us in fluting song, while a small brook rushed on madly below us downhill, burbling and splashing. A very attentive and helpful staff made it a very memorable stay.
We had an Indica with a driver engaged for the entire stay and that made things very simple. Any time the urge to sight-see came on, we just hopped in and went.
More on Coonoor later!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Cirkut - In Memoriam

Come this Friday, February 8th, it'll be two months since a Shikra snatched my baby bulbul away. It still hurts to see his empty basket and his little dish that he will never peck oats out of anymore. He loved bananas and still liked being hand-fed like a fledgling. I miss the fluting cry of greeting he gave me when I came home after a work weary day and the way he would come eagerly to chirp and peck at my bangle by way of welcome. And the way his feathers felt like warm silk when I held him close to my cheek. Or the way he would flutter in and out of his bath bowl and later, sit preening and fluffing his little feathers. I miss the months of following his routine of letting him out in the sun and onto his favorite blanket. Not to forget the way he would lift a wing and air it gravely in the sun with so much pleasure. He loved bright things and would peck happily for hours at a piece of wrapping paper. Who knew a bird could do all that?
If to love and be loved is what all life is about, Cirkut certainly wrote the book on that one!
He was truly a pet in every sense of the word.

Now, I feed the pigeons on the terrace and smile at their idiosyncrasies but it doesn't fill that hole Cirkut left in my heart. The turtle doves come waddling now when they see me in hope of food and the little birds in the mango tree know I mean them no harm. When I see them, I marvel at how much Cirkut changed my life and opened my eyes to the multitude of bird life around us - bulbuls, drongoes, parakeets, kites, doves, pigeons and other avians that we routinely share our lives with. If I had the choice to pick up that little brown bundle of half grown feathers that was Cirkut all over again, I would take it. And endure his insistent cheeping, his clamoring to be fed, clean piles of poop, spend hours agonising about his poor feather growth and experience all the sundry aches that come when you lose your heart to a pet. It's the price you pay when you let a little magical being into your life.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

New Year Resolutions of a Shopaholic

It's a brand new year and time to clean the attic! Sweep away some old notions and attitudes and adopt some new ones. I, for one, have decided that I will not worry too much about the future. Whatever life decides to throw my way, I'll handle it (I mean, do I have a choice?):-)
Take it as it comes - for a chronic worry wart like me, that's a big step!

And then , I've decided to take better care of my health. Eat healthier , live healthier - which is easier said than done when you have a chain smoker in the house. Exercise more and eat less empty-calorie food. Adopt more positive ways of looking at things and cut through the noise. Focus on the I in me more. Listen more often to the voice of reason.

Take better care of my finances and cut down the impulse buys. Save more for the future and buy less clothes. Buy only what is absolutely needed (ha! that's a joke!) and no more uncomfortable footwear! Clean out my wardrobe and give away the stuff I don't wear any more.
Cut down on the clutter and mess as much as I can.

Let's see - that's all for now, folks!