The Vegetable Vendor Is No More

My dear friend Annika who lives in Magdeburg recently wrote to me after the vegetable vendor's shop at the end of her street, Gutenberg Strasse, shut down. A vegetarian, she was deeply affected by this new development - and wrote a very moving email to me, sharing her woes with me, in characterstic Annika style! And as usual I was clapping my hands in glee at the way she put it! I had to share it with you - so here it is :-

I'm dead blue. The vegetable vendor in my block is no more.
Minute of silence.
He opened up in August and brought sunshine into my life:
fresh vegetables within a few steps of my house,
no more carrying of heavy loads across the whole city,
personal sale instead of self-take box, amounts according to my wishes
instead of prepacked portions --
I could buy a single carrot, okay,
that is possible at Real as well but only for bio veges
and they cost more.
Now he is no longer.
The sales in this small road with hardly any stores must have been to small.
The only chance was that the people visiting the bakery next door
would also frequent the veg store but I guess fewest of them did.
So he closed down.
Leaving behind a sad, vegless, paintorn Annika.
© Annika Schlee

Ain't she good? :-)

Grrrrrr

Grrr…I’m snarling like a nasty bull-dog. So irritated. And frustrated. Feel like tearing someone’s hair out. Clawing at someone’s face with my claws…oh, but I don’t have any. Damn. Why can’t I grow my nails into long painted red talons like other women do? Now I know the purpose they serve. Hehe smart bimbos, have to hand it to them! Muhahaha…that makes me feel better. I’m laughing – even if it’s a raucous hysterical laughter of a witch! Ok it isn’t – so no scratching, and no laughing like witches either. Sigh – kya kismat hai! *Giggles hysterically*

Don’t ask what brought on this mood – long story. You don’t want to read about it. Trust me.

Accomplishments of the day :- Finally picked up the CD of Morning Raga – also Def Lepard’s Best Hits and Shania Twain – Best Hits. Looking forward to listening to them for the next few days…

Short Story

"Hang your head Tom Dooley" – as I kept humming that tune inside my head, I realised it can sound quite menacing and all of a sudden an image of “poor Laura” holding a knife popped into my head. So I sat me down at the computer and let my fingers build the image further – came up with a short story which I’ve posted on Literary Mosaic for feelers – as before, comments are more than welcome. Leave them here or at LM! :-)

Had a pretty decent weekend apart from the enforced movie-experience – filled with late night Biryani dinners, great conversations and a Caferati meet. The week has been its usual lazy, vella self so far, except for yesterday evening which passed in a flurry of activities as I put in my two-bit for a dinner party – need to stop being lazy and go to AFP and MMB-Pune to get some formalities out of the way, and thinking of making a painting for Dr.B…

Pardon Me...

Veer Zara. A Yash Chopra extravaganza. A love story to rival the greatest love stories of all time. Boasting the golden melodies of Madan Mohan and the brilliant performances of the nation’s favourite Khan, with two beautiful damsels to support him. What more could you want?

I don’t know the answer to that. But I do know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be subjected to three hours of clichés. Mr.Chopra tugged at every string he could, not leaving anything to chance. So he tossed in the elements and come up with a mind-blowing granola. The love-story with insurmountable difficulties that tore the lovers apart. The Hindu-Muslim conflict. The India-Pakistan war. The Partition. The commonalities between us - “sanskar” in the youth, loving parents, rich traditions preserved through the years… The childless couple who brought up their relatives orphaned child, and would but obviously have had an inter-community love marriage and been the pioneering couple of the village. The fields of golden corn (or was it wheat I saw) and colourful flowers in bloom. The patriotic songs of “Yeh mera desh hai aisa…jaisa desh hai tera.” The designer dresses and exquisite embroidery. And oh, let’s not forget the “bebe” (an old maid who served the family through-out her life and brought up the heroine) who maintained a child’s joie de vivre till the day she lay on her death-bed and decided she wants her ashes to be thrown into an Indian river, for after all, she was an Indian at heart, even though she had spent her entire life in Pakistan.

Pardon me for predicting every turn in the story.
Pardon me for questioning how Zara managed to fit half a dozen heavy salwar-kurtas and matching jewellery into a small rucksack.
Pardon me for wondering if all Punjabi farmers look as robust and wear as colourful clothes to the fields.
Pardon me for groaning as they belted out clichéd songs about the richness of their soil, and their traditions.
Pardon me for analyzing Kiron Kher’s nails & thinking she probably doesn’t lift a glass at home, as she inflicted another tear-jerking dialogue on the audience.
Pardon me for admiring the architecture and wondering if the monument is really in Pakistan, or that red fort next to the Taj Mahal, as Veer Pratap Singh lets his Zara know that she must marry the guy chosen by her parents and produce 8-10 children after which she can come visit him in his village and they can take a ride around it, on a bicycle…no, a tractor.
Pardon me for preferring the maid Shabbo’s simple clothes and the Punjabi farmers’ floral lungis over Zara’s richly embroidered ensembles.
Pardon me for remembering my friend Saima, who also has crochet done on all her dupattas to show that she is not a widow and regretting the fall-out in our friendship, instead of empathizing with Zara’s pain.
Pardon me for wondering why I agreed to go for this movie, after successfully resisting K3G, KHNH, MHN et al…
Pardon me for paying more attention to the ushers at E-Square, who reprimanded those using their cell phones in the hall, and escorting them out (probably to fine them), than to the dialogues.
Pardon me for asking you to go grab a DVD/VCD of Morning Raga (it disappeared from cinemas within a week) and avoid this sob-story like the plague.
Pardon me for resisting the great Indian tradition of extravagant Bollywood love stories.
Pardon me for praying I never, ever, again have to do this as a family duty.

Hang Your Head Tom Dooley..

Hang your head Tom Dooley, Hang your head and cry,
Killed poor Laura Foster, And you know you’re bound to die…

Running through my head like an endless refrain – it’s stuck there and won’t go away. But then I’m not doing anything to make it go away – music inside my head lightens my mood, brushes away those dark clouds of dourness, wipes that scowl away, brings back the light in eyes that were reflecting a boiling cauldron of emotions a few hours ago. So I continue to hum at the back of mind, this classic by The Kingston Trio…

Peeled my eyes open this morning – something that’s been happening a lot lately, since I’ve been sleeping late, after having spent hours curled up in my razai devouring some book or the other and then spending at least half-an-hour, if not more, tossing around in bed trying to fall asleep. But the thoughts don’t let me – sometimes I’m just mulling over what I’ve just read; sometimes I’m composing something in my mind; sometimes I’m wondering where I will be next year – is it where I want to be or will I end up somewhere else,; sometimes I’m trying to shut the Pandora’s Box of emotions that I wish were filtered and subdued, wishing I could let them stream out unbridled, but knowing that would mess things up real bad and I don’t want that to happen…

So I sleep late and there is no reason to wake up early – I definitely don’t want the day to stretch endlessly in front of me, late nights don’t call for early mornings – so I wake up leisurely when Apollo has already made it’s way half-way up, when the birds have stopped twittering in delight over a new day, when the early morning activities in the kitchen have died away…I groggily force one eye-lid apart, peer like a blind owl at my bed-side clock that informs me it’s 8.30 a.m and I wait for Schnapps to come bounding into my room to inform me that I’m the only one still in bed. A jab with his wet, rather cold nose and I lazily poke one leg out of the razai…it’s a brand new day, let’s get out of bed and get those crooked teeth brushed and shiny. Yawn! Putting Schnapps on my cupboard so he can bark at the team of sweepers busy sprucing up the avenue that leads up to the bungalows beyond the buildings, I reach for my glasses, smile as the world clears up, and make my way to the breakfast table – some toast with eggs/jam/tomatoes (I’m not particular), some fruit and coffee, a jostle over the newspaper with my father who’s intent on reading every tiny bit of news in there before he leaves for his office in the ‘dongar’ and I’m set for the day.

But this morning it all went out of kilter – an enquiry from my mother regarding which tickets to ask my brother to book for a movie I’m not particularly (make that, not at all) keen on seeing led to a rather nasty show-down between my brother and me. Barely awake, I was breathing down fumes and shooting daggers at him with my eyes – argh I hate it when men put on this “I’m so busy, you oughtta be glad I’m running this errand for you” act. Makes me want to throw something at them – something crystal, something that would make a nice loud crash as it hits that thick skull! Itched to tell him he can take those tickets and go to hell for all I care, it’s not me who wants to watch the latest addition to sob-love-stories! Ick – I hate it even more when I have to swallow my anger to ensure the smiles stay intact on other’s faces!!!

Hang your head Tom Dooley, Hang your head and cry,
Killed poor Laura Foster, And you know you’re bound to die…

Currently:-

• Reading William Dalrymple’s mammoth work, White Moghuls, after having finished The Handmaid’s Tale. (Find my review of this classic by Margaret Atwood at Literary Mosaic)
• Itching to head to Bombay and vent this hoarded up energy by walking down Marine Drive, breathing in that salty air & letting the wind play with my hair for a change, sharing my woes with one of my bosom buddies, and then over to Causeway - Mondegar for supper or mayhaps to Oxford (I haven’t been there in aeons) for a tall glass of iced tea and a nice Turkish salad. Hmm…

Truffles

Truffles – when I first learnt about them from my friend Patricia, last year in Bordeaux, I thought to myself, “Ridiculous! Such a high price for a tiny little underground mushroom! The things people pass off as ‘delicacies’!” For Christmas dinner, at Patricia’s mother-in-law’s beautiful Bordelaise home, we had 'Boudain Blanc' (plump white sausages served with stewed apples) and I was informed that the little black specks I saw in the sausages were truffles…still not convinced of their value, I grunted in response, nodded briefly and continued to enjoy the Sausages. Delicacy or not, they were delicious!

Less than a year later, I read Encore Provence in which the author Peter Mayle indulges in an entire chapter on truffles! And I decided it’s time I polished up my knowledge on these trifling mushrooms that cost a tiny fortune!

It is common to say that the truffle is an underground mushroom, but more exactly it is the fruit of the Mycelium. In the classification of mushrooms, the truffle is in the category of the Ascomycetes Hypoges. (Ascomycetes because the spores are enclosed in small pockets (asques) and Hypogee because it is underground.)

Read More...

Known as the King of Fungi, this highly fragrant tuber has been the cause of gunfights, thefts, wild accusations of fraud, and inquiries that take the police across countries to catch the culprits! In France, truffle commerce is very secretive – truffle cultivators and “hunters” avoid the taxman just as much as drug dealers do elsewhere in the world. And why? Because of it’s cost & rarity - These days a kilo costs US $750 in French markets. By the time we get them in North America the price may be as high as $1,250 to $1,500, depending on store location, and fame of the establishment. Dean and Deluca in New York will not part with a kilogram of truffles for less than $1,400, and Fauchon in Paris is likely to charge $1,000. To make it more exciting – truffles lose weight as they dry, so you actually lose money as the clock ticks – the race to carry the truffles across from the market-places to Paris into the kitchen of an exclusive restaurant is critical and I definitely don’t envy the man who has the job of transporting this delicacy from source to destination! A tiny consolation is that they can be stored for months, as long as they are kept in a damp atmosphere, and even frozen, though that affects the quality & texture of the mushroom.

Since truffles cannot be seen, specially trained sows and dogs are employed to find the elusive tubers, Sows love to eat them and have a keen sense of smell, but because of their size, transportation tends to be cumbersome, also once they start digging, it is difficult to stop them to retrieve the truffle. Many “hunters” prefer specially trained dogs that are easier to control. And then there are the precautions one must take to ensure that one’s precious truffles aren’t stolen from the “fields” overnight by the “smugglers” of the truffle trade!
There are three types of truffles – black, grey, and white. Black truffles generally come from France, white from Piedmont and Umbria, Italy and grey can be found in North America. Because black truffles are in such high demand, many fraudulent dealers buy inferior truffles like fungi, colour them and sell at exorbitant prices. Chinese truffles look like black French truffles, and some dealers are known to colour and sell them for authentic. Generally they buy the Chinese truffle for $30 a kilogram and after colouring sell it whatever the going market is. Considered an aphrodisiac, truffles are used in various preparations - goose liver pates, in sauces, omelettes, scrambled eggs, compound butters, baked in puff pastry... Mayle, suggests that the true relishment of truffles is found in the simplest recipes. So the best way to enjoy it, is to have it with plain scrambled eggs!

Hmm…perhaps next time I’m in France? (IF I can afford it!)

Stubborn Bitch?

So I got reprimanded for being too busy browsing other’s blogs and ignoring my own blog – glanced at my last post and realized that I have been ignoring my baby…

Sheesh – I don’t quite understand how this is happening. I’m officially vella since the last 3 weeks. No more Alliance Francaise classes till the results are declared and I’ve not taken on any more of the freelancing work I was doing. I had a slight tussle with my ‘employer’ over some minor ego issues and I’m refusing to back down, stubborn mule that I am…infact that led to a detailed analysis of this aspect of my personality. Here goes...

Geetanjali and her Stubbornness

I was never a docile child – infact my mother couldn’t leave me in a cradle 'coz I was too active for my own good and would end up tipping it over and landing on my head…she finally resorted to leaving me on a mattress on the ground, during the day-time. I could crawl off wherever I wished, but atleast I wouldn’t fall and do some permanent damage to my head…she started to suspect that the few falls I had already taken must have affected my head for I soon started asserting my (inherent) nature!

Innumerable battles over the milk bottle later, I graduated to eating food. And sure enough newer battles ensued. An incident that even I remember has me sitting on the table the entire afternoon refusing to touch the gajar methi ki sabzi. Amma had told me that I couldn’t get up from the table till I finished what was on my plate – so I didn’t. Till date that is one sabzi I abhor – gajar is meant for salads and gajar ka halwa…why would anyone want to mix it with something and ruin that sabzi?

My sister recounted another incident – I must have been around 5 or 6 at the time. Amma had gone to attend some family function, leaving me in the care of my father, brother and cousin sister. My “favourite” cousin sister at the time (one I’m still close it and whose house we are currently living in) – but even she couldn’t make me do something I didn’t want to. Good at mathematics herself, she thought I should do some extra exercises to improve my grades – Math was my only weak point till Marathi came along! Now, asking me to do more than the required number of sums was worse than asking me to eat gajar-methi. I refused. She insisted. I continued to stand my ground. When Papa came home from work, she told him what I’d done. Being the typical “Daddy’s girl” I thought I’d get my way. To my horror my father agreed with Didi – she couldn’t have done anything worse. Turning my father against me! How could she? I never got around to doing those sums – I also refused to talk to her for a whole year.

She thought I’d be a little embarrassed when she narrated this tale, especially since my Bhabhi was there as well and Bhabhi hasn’t had much opportunity yet to see me in action ;-) Little did she know that I’d retaliate with a similar incident…

A decade after my sister’s futile efforts at making me practice Math, my friend Mansi thought she’d tutor me in Math. Same result. I threw her out of my house telling her that no one tells Geetanjali Shrivastava how, what and when to study. We didn’t talk for over a year – for those of you who don’t know, Mansi is a bosom pal (chaddi pal if you prefer) – she’s seen me through my lowest, darkest phases in life, pulled me through a difficult puberty and been my rock ever since we became friends. I don’t think I’d quarrel with her over something so silly today, but yes, even she’s stopped trying to make me do something I don’t want to!

(We’ve had some remarkable moments over the years haven’t we Mansi? I think I’m going to take this opportunity to raise a toast to our friendship – Vive l’amitie entre nous!)

This brought up the whole Marathi exam saga – my parents had hoped that atleast one member of the family would learn Marathi. My brother never had the knack for languages so he didn’t pick up any of the languages taught to him in school. Having experienced that, my folks thought that some extra training in Marathi wouldn’t hurt me. So they enrolled me for these State Language Exams we could take, through school. Our school provided coaching lessons which would take place once a week, for a mere 45 minutes. But those 45 minutes were half of the week’s allotted time for “C.C.A” or co-curricular activities. I hated it. The idea of missing my art classes for Marathi was abhorrent. I didn’t sit for any of the coaching classes and when the notice came for the exam I calmly told my parents that I never wanted to take the exam, so I wasn’t going to. I was in the 5th std. Needless to say that was the last time my parents tried to bend my will and make me do something against my wishes! It’s also why they never tried to get me to take any tuitions for any subject, no matter how weak I was in it, or how important the exam was deemed to be (SSC / HSC / whatever!) – and I think I’m quite proud of the fact!!

Heh…I’ve mellowed down over the years and sometimes do follow other’s advice, but once in a while my stubborn streak rears up and then I’m quite unreasonable. Quite. Re-reading what I just wrote, I’m tickled pink at my abominable behaviour – I was a regular brat, wasn’t I ? – and I marvel at how much I’ve changed over the years. Definitely more subtle in my reactions and approaches. And more mature; or so I believe, though there are those who’d beg to disagree – hint hint! I’d like to think that I am an interesting character to have around, but I’ll let you’ll decide that! ;-)

Currently :-

• Listening to “Ladies & Gentlemen - The Best of George Michael” – can’t decide which I like the best – Freedom 90, Killer/Papa was a Rolling Stone, I Want Your Sex, I Knew You Were Waiting for Me, Faith or Father Figure…damn but the man sure knows how to spin his tunes…& damn but what a waste of perfectly delicious man! ;-)
• Reading Peter Mayle’s “Encore Provence” – a most delightful read…I must post a review of the book on Literary Mosaic!
• Sporting a toe-ring – it’s become a regular companion for my toe and I quite like it.
• Feeling upbeat and cheerful – the last remnants of a dark mood having passed into the inky blackness last night. A.Diddy – me thinks those three cups of coffee, did it’s bit in boosting those energy levels ;-) Muhahahaha!

Caferati

Caferati

I stumbled onto their blog, through Akshay’s blog and immediately knew I’d found a treasure. I was still getting over the content on Akshay’s blog, which isn’t half as trivial as he claims, and here I was confronted with a blog of a “motley group of writers” who meet up online and offline, over coffees and conversation to read out their oeuvres and discuss them. I browsed their blog for a few days – leaving comments where I felt I had something worthwhile to say, and then Max Babi contacted me. A founder-member of the group, he was organizing the first-ever Pune Caferati meet – “Would I like to come?” he asked. There was no doubt in my mind that this was something I wanted to do – I am not a great writer, infact I’ve hardly written any stories and can’t write verse for nuts, yet I knew I HAD to attend.

So I went – 7th November 2004, Titash Neogi’s apartment off Spicer College Road – and am I glad I went! I went as an observer, commenting very little, seizing the opportunity to simply soak in the atmosphere and get a feel of what the meetings are all about. I was quite awed (and even inspired) by some of the stuff read out – the talent in these people left me feeling humbled, at the same time it made me realise that I might have something to offer as well…

I attended the Bombay Caferati meet this Sunday (21st November 2004), having gathered the courage to read out something I’d written a year back. Hosted at Gold Mist, in a beautiful apartment, overlooking Jogger’s Park, Bandra and the awe-inspiring Arabian Sea (awe-inspiring the Bombay coastline is, whether it’s because of the degree to which it is polluted, or those huge waves that crash the shore during monsoons!) the meet was a bit disappointing in terms of what was read – most of the pieces read didn’t do much for me. The last item on the agenda – the play reading, by Peter and Vijay – was mind-blowing stuff! “Relaxing” was how one gentleman described it ; I’d say “invigorating”, “spell-binding” and “captivating” – the oratory skills of the two gentlemen who read it out, coupled with the taut, well-bound script made me want more than the two scenes that were read out!

To Life, posted on Literary Mosaic, was my first-ever attempt at fiction writing…as I’ve said myself, it’s a simple story, almost simplistic. An experiment, to see if I’m capable of producing anything worthwhile or am I just full of useless crap that no one will want to read… friends who read it, had stuff to say, but most of it wasn’t constructive criticism that would guide me to improvement. Caferati gave me that – starting with Max, who read my story and encouraged me to read it at the B’bay meet, Manisha, Avi and Peter who critiqued it at the meet and gave me pointers on how to improve the story (rather, make it one!) and Titash, who with his organized little comments, ripped my story apart, giving suggestions on how to improve it…

I have just started my journey with Caferati and have a long way to go – I’m sure as hell looking forward it…it’s going to be one rocking trip!!! :-)

P.S Any more comments on the story are welcome!

Back from Tinsel Town

Back from Tinsel Town – the city rocks! LOL – the city can be its usual polluted, traffic-jammed, crazy, hot n humid self, but for me, it always works wonders. This time there were no hectic rendezvous with pals and dinner/lunch dates at my favourite restaurants, since I spent most of the time with Ma, shopping, visiting family friends & attending a rather-boring party. Yet, I managed to squeeze in enough to keep me going till the next trip!

Sunday evening was the only time I had to myself – so I packed in several things. Since had decided to attend the Caferati meet in B’bay and read out my short-story I pataoed Madusa to accompany me , thus killing 2 birds with 1 stone. Kunu called up at the last minute, saying he was free so he’d also attend, so I actually managed to meet both of them and do the Caferati bit, all in one go! After the meet I had to meet that incredibly adorable and sexy man, Amit – the meet got over later than I expected and I thought those plans would go awry; fortunately they didn’t, and my mood which was slipping rapidly, was restored before I cracked up in public! Needless to say, rushing across town, asking the rickshaw-walla to step on the gas, was worth it! No more on the subject… ;-)

Monday and Tuesday passed in a haze of meeting family-friends…had to attend a birthday party of a one-year old…I’m afraid I don’t understand the concept of throwing a party to celebrate your child’s 1st birthday party, by inviting 150-200 odd adults to a club. The kid ends up feeling tired and irritable, as he is passed around from one arm to the other; a myriad strangers kiss him and insist he looks “Cho-Chweet” in his brand new “Baba-suit” while the kid is probably feeling stuffy and uncomfortable in the new starched clothes and wondering why the whole world is intent on smothering him! *Puke*

A cozy family get-together, with a sumptuous meal (keeping in mind that a year-old infant also has to enjoy) seems more appropriate to me. Birthday Parties like this, strike me as a nouveau-riche way of showing off your money and your child to the world, more than a genuine celebration of your child’s birthday. But then, I’m not one to throw birthday parties, having had only one in my life – I’ve always preferred cozy rendezvous with family and friends, over a typical party (blowing out candles, cutting cakes, collecting gifts from a dozen people who were worrying about the month’s budget while buying the gift, and providing food to all of them, ending up tired by the end of your red-letter day!)…ah well, each to his own, I guess.

Word of the Day - Zeus/Jupiter

Zeus, n, (Greek mythology) the supreme god of ancient Greek mythology; son of Rhea and Cronus whom he dethroned; husband and brother of Hera; brother of Poseidon and Hades; father of many gods; counterpart of Roman Jupiter

Word History:
Homer's Iliad calls him “Zeus who thunders on high” and Milton's Paradise Lost, “the Thunderer,” so it is surprising to learn that the Indo-European ancestor of Zeus was a god of the bright daytime sky. Zeus is a somewhat unusual noun in Greek, having both a stem Zn- (as in the philosopher Zeno's name) and a stem Di- (earlier Diw-). In the Iliad prayers to Zeus begin with the vocative form Zeu pater, “o father Zeus.” Father Zeus was the head of the Greek pantheon; another ancient Indo-European society, the Romans, called the head of their pantheon Ipiter or Iuppiter-Jupiter. The -piter part of his name is just a reduced form of pater, father and I- corresponds to the Zeu in Greek: Ipiter is therefore precisely equivalent to Zeu pater and could be translated “father Jove.” Jove itself is from Latin Iov-, the stem form of Ipiter, an older version of which in Latin was Diov-, showing that the word once had a d as in Greek Diw-. An exact parallel to Zeus and Jupiter is found in the Sanskrit god addressed as Dyau pitar: pitar is “father,” and dyau means “sky.”
We can equate Greek Zeu pater, Latin I-piter, and Sanskrit dyau pitar and reconstruct an Indo-European deity, *Dyus pter, who was associated with the sky and addressed as “father.” Comparative philology has revealed that the “sky” word refers specifically to the bright daytime sky, as it is derived from the root meaning “to shine.”
This root also shows up in Latin dis “day,” borrowed into English in words like diurnal. Closely related to these words is Indo-European *deiwos “god,” which shows up, among other places, in the name of the Old English god Tw in Modern English Tuesday, “Tiw's day.” *Deiwos is also the source of Latin dvus “pertaining to the gods,” whence English divine and the Italian operatic diva, and deus, “god,” whence deity.

(*Phew!* - that's enough gyan for the day!)

Food for Thought

The Festive Season has been taking it's toll on our stomachs. Along with all the rich curries, deep-fried pakwaans, and mouth-watering mithais sashaying onto our tables and delighting our palates, comes the fear of Calories & Cholestrol and Crisis-time hits the Kitchens before you know it...before you start planning that next diet, here's something I gleaned from India Today Travel Plus -

I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number you get in a diamond. – Mae West

Eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside. – Mark Twain

My advice if you insist on slimming: Eat as much as you like – just don’t swallow it! – Harry Secombe

My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless, there are three other people. – Orson Welles

I have a great diet. You’re allowed to eat anything you want, but you must eat it with naked people. – Ed Bluestone

I don’t diet. I just don’t eat as much as I’d like to. – Linda Evangelista

All the things I really like to do are either immoral, illegal or fattening. – Alexander Woollcott

Great restaurants are, of course, nothing but mouth-brothels. There is no point in going to them if one intends to keep one’s belt buckled. – Frederick Raphael

The devil has put a penalty on all things we enjoy in life. Either we suffer in health, or we suffer in soul, or we get fat. – Albert Einstein

Give me liberty or…Ooooooo…A jelly doughnut! – Homer Simpson

The journey of a thousand pounds begins with a single burger. – Chris O’Brien

Thank you for calling the Weight-Loss Hotline. If you’d like to lose half a pound right away, press 1 eighteen thousand times. – Randy Glasbergen

To supplement that, I have some more Food for Thought for you - hey come on, this stuff is easy to digest!

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it...don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer?Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain?Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the frui ty bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain.Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body and you have body fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of a single one, sorry.My philosophy is: No Pain...Good, Very very GOOD.

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!. Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: Are you crazy? HELLO. Cocoa beans ... another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around! (check out Chocoholics United, if you don't believe me!)

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets and remember,

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand -- strawberries in the other -- body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming - WOO HOO! What a Ride!" ;-)

Diwali Pooja

Diwali - the Festival of Lights

Diwali is a five day Hindu festival which occurs on the fifteenth day of Kartika. During this time, homes are thoroughly cleaned and windows are opened to welcome Laksmi, goddess of wealth. Candles and lamps are lit as a greeting to Laksmi. Gifts are exchanged and festive meals are prepared during Diwali. Diwali, being the festival of lights, thousands of lamps are lit in and outside every home on the day. Lamp or “Deep” is the symbol of knowledge. The act of lighting the lamp of knowledge within us signifies an understanding and reflection upon the significant purpose of each of the five days of festivities and to bring those thoughts in to our day to day lives.

According to Ramayana, Diwali commemorates the return of Ram, an incarnation of Lord Vishnu and the eldest son of King Dasharath of Ayodhya, from his 14-year exile with Sita and Lakshman after killing the Ravan, a demon king. The people of Ayodhya illuminated the kingdom with earthen diyas and fireworks to celebration of the return of their king.

There are other myths as well, that explain the existence of the festival, but for me the festival means Diwali pooja, gujiyas, flowers, rangolis (though I can't make one!), malpuas, lights strung across homes, diyas (loads of them), new clothes ;-) and kheer...it's my favourite festival, despite the pollution created by the fireworks which are a major nuisance...

WISHING YOU ALL A VERY HAPPY DIWALI & A POSPEROUS NEW YEAR!!!

Have a colourful, exciting Diwali - but let's not forget our duty to the environment!

Notes From My Appointment Diary...

As I said earlier this week (or was it last week?) this week has been a flurry of activities for me. This is pretty much how the week progressed:-

Tuesday 9th Nov – Inauguration of the Phoenix Mecano India factory at Pirangut by Mr GoldKamp, CEO of Phoenix Mecano A.G.

This factory is basically the reason why I’ve been uprooted from my beloved Bombay, yet I couldn’t stop myself from beaming with pride, since this factory is proof of my father’s achievements. He first started working with PMI when he was asked to audit the company back in 1996 when the company was riddled with losses. He took on as a Managing Consultant by the end of the audit and soon became the Managing Director and share-holder. My father has put in his blood, sweat, money (he is one of the few men I know who can put in their own money to give the company the monetary boost it needs, even at the cost of nearly wiping clean his personal account) – in short my father has dedicated his life to PMI in the last 8 years. And it paid off – for the company that was on the verge of being shut-down and took 3 years to break even, after my father took control at the helm, has become a successful, fast-growing enterprise today. Needless to say, the Inauguration of the factory went off smoothly…

Wednesday 10th Nov – Pooja at the factory – one elaborate affair. I’d expected a low-key, simple Diwali pooja, but it turned out to be a grand pooja for good beginnings, that swallowed up the entire morning. It was followed by a press conference, the results of which I saw in the papers this morning! We got back home, changed, wrapped a few details for the evening’s presentation and rushed back across town and up the “dongars” to Pirangut for the 10th anniversary celebrations of Phoenix Mecano India. A bit pressed for time, running slightly behind schedule, and praying that the rains would hold off since the terrace where the programme was scheduled to take place was uncovered, the evening was definitely a success. Hats off to my father - the company wouldn’t be where it is today without him, for the Germans had decided to shut down operations in India when he took on. But he didn’t let them, kept pushing the company uphill and he hasn’t stopped yet – MY DAD ROCKS!

Thursday 11th Nov – Lunch with Dr.Metzger at our home. My cousin arrived early in the morn’g to help us out – she’s a chef par excellence and an army-wife to boot. Needless to say, she organized the kitchen in a jiffy and produced some mouth-watering stuff for lunch! I am in the “cleaning department” for such rendezvous at home, so I had to make sure the place looked spick-n-span...plus I’ve inherited my parent’s inherent need to see perfection in what we do. It may be simple, but it has to be perfect. The morning passed way too quickly for my liking, but my efforts at re-organising and sprucing up the place paid off! I think we won’t have to do much tomorrow in that department, apart for the daily cleaning that one really can’t avoid!

Went out in the evening to pick up the stuff for tomorrow’s pooja – Ghorpodi gaon, with my skirt pulled up high up my calves in an effort to keep the skirt clean, with a shawl wrapped around my self to ward off the after-rains cold breeze. Drooled over the mounds of flowers, the rangoli colours, the "kheel-batashas" being sold after every two shops,and the diyas at the potter’s shops…this was something I never saw in Bombay since we got everything in our local grocery shops and never ventured into the “market-areas” of the city. Quite a treat for me!
Even though I’m exhausted with the activities and running around of the last 3 days, I can still feel the adrenaline running through my veins…saved some of it for tomorrow! ;-)

The Queens That Ruled The Roost Before Schnapps

Since I posted a pic of Schnapps, I couldn't resist posting pics of my previous pets -

Tika came to us, just before I was born. My brother who loves dogs more than anyone else in the family, tried for a camel, horse, monkey and finally settled for a dog! She hated kids and was jealous of me, when I was born, but dare anyone scold me - Tika was at my rescue immediately, growling deep in her throat at whoever it was who dared raise his voice at the baby of the house! I've been told by all those who saw us grow up together that I used to share my b'fast toasts and biscuits with her - how? One bite goes into Geetanjali's mouth, next into Tika's and the last back in Geetanjali's! I still miss her sometimes!



On our terrace in Gayatri - playing with her ball! This is one of my fav pics of Frisky! She was very camera-reticent, so we have very few...Our neighbour had brought her back from his brother's house, but aunty brought the house down! Mom took one look at the cute black pup cruled up in the basket looking fearfully at Smita aunty and melted. So she became ours...

When she came to us, she was this bundle of energy who wouldn't stop frisking around (thus her name!) - but over the years, she grew into the most lovable, gentle soul, who loved her food, wanted her CoffeeBites immediately after dinner, irrespective of whether the humans had dessert or not! She was a very sensitive dog who sat by my mother's bed through-out the time Ma was convalescing after the bypass. We lost her to a tumour in Dec 2002 - my last memory of her is of her sitting in the back of Suku's Bolero, excited that she's going for a drive. Even though I knew that if we didn't put her down then, she'd die a painful death a few days later, it felt like cold-blooded murder...I cried for days after.

Hardly a day goes by when I don't think of her and compare her to Schnapps - only to remind myself that they shall both occupy their own niche in my heart!

She was a Queen, like her predecessor... he's a Royal Brat!

Monsieur Ginger Schnapps a.k.a Lucifer

Je vous presente Monsieur Ginger Schnapps, mon favori Diable!

Achoo-Sniff-Cough...

« Achoo – sniff – cough... »

That’s been my refrain since Tuesday evening. A nasty cold descended on me within a few hours and by night-fall I was sneezing, sniffing and sure I’d have a sore throat & congestion by the next morning. One prophecy of mine that did come true! Hah!

Anyways I spent a couple of days, pretty miserable coz this was one of my worst colds ever – luckily my colds get cured within a few days, without me having to take any major medication. My cough syrup insures I sleep well at night, lozenges drag me through the day and plenty of tissue papers come to the rescue when a running nose threatens to embarrass me! Taking the exam yesterday was a pain, but I’ve gone through several exams with much worse hanging over my head – be it my world falling apart just before the BA Univ exams coupled with Ma's bypass surgery, or Papa’s stroke during MA-I exams…this was a cake-walk in comparison! How was it? As usual – OK. The rest as we’ll find out when the results are declared! For now “Cest finit!” Finished. Over. Done with.

Am well on my road to well-being now – infact I spent the whole morning cleaning out and re-organising my book-shelves and cupboards as a part of my annual “Diwali” cleaning…

While we don’t indulge in spring-cleaning in the true-blue sense of the term, Diwali does call for some basic dusting off cob-webs and sprucing up the cupboards, pulling out the new/lesser used linens etc, so that the house looks nice and welcoming for the guests atleast, not to mention Goddess Lakshmi ;-) Larger house this time, but far less work, coz we don’t have half-as-many cupboards and storing space here, so most of the crockery and crystal is still packed away in cartons… Feels odd not having to wash the Swarovski this year, or dust the books that lined the unit in the living-room…Also going to miss stringing lights across the terrace we had back in B’bay – but I think we’ll figure out a way to string some lights on the sorry excuse of a “terrace” we have here! Where there is a will, there is a way! :- )

Next week sure is packed with activities (good thing my cold is beating a fast retreat!) – the Chairman and Dr.M are coming down for the official inauguration of the PMI factory at Pirangut and to celebrate the 10th anniversary of PMI, so I can look forward to some corporate dinners and lunches. Not going to be easy on the daily routines – hectic and tiring, but fun as well! And then Diwali…ohhh I’m excited!

Currently:-

• Planning things for the next few weeks…
• Listening to Pdt.Shiv Kumar Sharma’s Santoor Virasat
• Fed-up of hearing & seeing music videos that sound & look so similar – be it the hip-hop videos with the nearly naked babes in thongs, or our desi variety of remixes and Indi-hip-hop with the half-naked babes in ethno-chic! Gimme a break and come up with something original guys!
• Reading Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale

The Incurable Bombay Disease

Got back from B’bay this morning and have been sluggish ever since – the exhaustion of cramming in a month worth of rendezvous with friends and fun combined with the effect of being back in this hamlet sucked all energy out of me! But…

WHAT A WEEKEND!

I left for B’bay immediately after the “Examen Orale” at AF (which was comme ci-comme ca – it all depends on whether the examiners thought I was upto the mark!) reaching there late anoon. Walking down to Dadar station, up the pedestrian bridge across to the Western railway line and running to catch an Andheri local, sweat pouring down my back, running errands at Andheri stn before catching the 249 to 7-Bungalows, and walking into the breezy compound of Gayatri Housing Co-op Society shaded with Ashoka trees planted a year before I was born…it felt to great to be back where I belong.

“Home” may technically be Pune for now, but my heart is never here…I leave it behind each time I leave the city to come back here. As I told someone recently the "Bombay Disease" is incurable... ;-)

This time I crammed lots of rendezvous into just one-n-half days : – met up with Shivaji after aeons (I used to each him French once upon a time – somewhere along the line he became a good friend). Dinner at Lemon Grass (I can still taste the succulent Chicken wrapped in leaves - ummmm - and my cheeks still ache when I think of the amount I talked and laughed that nite!) with Tasneem-Aranyak and Kunaal, followed by Irish coffee at Prithvi, which is getting geared for the Prithvi festival – it was beautiful – the hand painted glasses and bottles, the way they’ve strung different coloured clothes-line across the compound, the red shoe dangling in one corner…quite charming to say the least! Hrishit (my 10am Sunday morng film-show companion!) dropped in for a quick hello. Volleyed bitchy comments with him (LOL!) before he went back to his beloved CA preparation!

The next day it was errands time again (for Mommy dearest) and quick hellos to Suku who’s house I raid while I’m in B’bay and our much beloved maid, Shanta. Lunch with college friends – catching up with the gang – Amrita, Sherry and Yamini…

Next up – darling Madusa who gifted me Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale. Mrrci beaucoup ma chere amie!! We went for Morning Raga with Kunaal. An AWESOME movie, with a mind-blowing performance by Shabana Azmi and pretty good supporting cast. (though Abhinav could have been played by a less wooden actor) – the music, needless to say, has wormed its way into my system…can’t wait to get my hands on the soundtrack! Fusion-Carnatic music rocks! As for the scenes shot in a village near Hyderabad – picture-perfect is all I can say…a MUST SEE!!

Kunaal and I dined on Frankies, at his current pad, with the inimitable Akhil Seth (classmate from AVM) for company – needless to say we found out about a lot about who’s earning how much and doing what with life…

Sauntered back to Gayatri around midnight, packed and collapsed coz I had to arise at 5 am, in order to be out by 6.15 and catch the 7.15 bus at Dadar…boy did I drag my feet last night – I soooooooooooooo didn’t want to come back. Sigh…

Got the written exam to look forward to – and then Diwali. One of my favourite cousins is in town for Diwali – so it’s going to be fun this year, more so coz I have to make up for missing Diwali last year! Got to plan my trip to Delhi to visit Appu…and figure out what next if the Diplome Superieur doesn’t start soon…

But before all that is my first ever BWC meeting at Pune on 7th November – excited about that :-)

Ganymede and Zeus

Ganymede, the son of King Tros of Troy, was an exceptionally handsome young man. Zeus found him desirable, and changed himself into the form of an eagle to abduct him from Troy. He snatched Ganymede into the air with his claws, and carried him to Olympus, much to the annoyance of his wife Hera (Juno). Annoying Hera further, Zeus made Ganymede the cupbearer to the gods, a task which was previously carried out by Hebe, the daughter of Zeus and Hera. Zeus went further still, commemorating his love for Ganymede in the constellation Aquarius, the water-bearer.

The Rape of Ganymede - painting by Anton Domenico Gabbiani (1700)

This affair is believed to be a religious justification for homosexuality within Greek culture. Others state that it’s merely a reflection of Greek life at that time – Plato used this myth to justify his sexual feelings towards his male pupils. This myth did serve to increase tolerance for sodomy, which till then was only accepted as an external for of goddess worship – Rhea’s (Mother of Gods – also the Goddess of Caverns and earth in its primitive state, known in Roman mythology as Cybele) male devotees tried to achieve unity with her by castrating themselves and dressing like women.

In the 19th century, homosexuality was attributed to moral degeneracy, mental illness and 'congenital anomaly'. Come 20th century, we are still not completely rid of such theories, but scientific research done on the subject states hormonal imbalance, psychosocial influences and biological factors (difference in brain structures & genetic reasons) named as possible suspects.

The most interesting reason (according to me) was the one given by Appollodorus (Greek historian and scholar, to whom the ‘Bibliotheke' or Library of Greek mythology is attributed). According to him, this myth emphasized the victory of patriarchy over matriarchy, showing that men don’t need the attentions of women and they did not need women to exist!
*Gags in disbelief*

Whatever the reasons behind homosexuality, the question that nags most of us is whether it is normal?

But then what is normal?

That, which is accepted as the norm by the majority and enforced on the minority? That which comes “naturally”? Or that which the Gods intended us to be? And if the Gods themselves indulged in homosexuality…umm?

All said and done, I say - live and let live!

Sources: Mythology – Myths, Legends, & Fantasies, Ed. Parker Janet, Stanton Julie
© Global Book Publishing Pty Ltd, 2003
"Ganymede." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online
[Accessed October 29, 2004].

Beauty and the Beast

The fairy tale of “Beauty and the Beast” was strongly influenced by the myth of Eros (better known as Cupid) and Psyche. Both are stories of love being tested by outward show. Beauty and Psyche both fail the test at first, as beauty does not learn to love the Beast until he lies dying, while Psyche believes her sisters’ story that her husband is a murderous monster. Beauty is literally confronted with a Beast; however it is only in Psyche’s imagination that Eros is anything but a most desirable god in the shape of a man. In the fairy tale both Beauty and the Beast have something to learn before they can fully love one another. In the myth, there are numerous ordeals for Psyche but not for Eros, who manages to stay hidden at his mother’s (Aphrodite) house while his beloved is suffering. (Why am I not surprised ?)
Perhaps this helps to explain, why Eros is often depicted as a little boy who never grows up.

(The myth of Eros-Psyche and Psyche’s ordeals is worth reading!)

Source : Mythology – Myths, Legends, & Fantasies, Ed. Parker Janet, Stanton Julie
© Global Book Publishing Pty Ltd, 2003

The Missing Half

The philosopher Plato explained the nature of love by telling a myth about the first human beings that were circular creatures each with two faces on a single neck, four legs and four arms. They traveled by rolling their bodies along the ground. Zeus (Jupiter) grew angry with these early humans when they challenged the rule of the gods, and sliced each of them in half, leaving humankind with only one face, two legs and two arms. Zeus threatened that if, ever there was any more serious trouble from humankind, he would cut everyone in half again. Then with one leg and one arm each, reduced to hopping everywhere, people would finally learn how to treat gods with respect. According to this myth, we are all halves of lost wholes, each longing and searching for its missing half. Love according to this myth, is the desire and pursuit of the whole.

Source: Mythology – Myths, Legends, & Fantasies, Ed. Parker Janet, Stanton Julie
© Global Book Publishing Pty Ltd, 2003

Buzzing with Ideas & Thoughts...

My head is buzzing with thoughts and ideas almost constantly these days – I’ve been reading up on varied subjects as a part of my “More Gyan, Better Geets” project and cutting out all sorts of write-ups from the newspapers and magazines these past few months. The last few weeks it’s gained momentum and the direct effect was on my schedule as I tried to do more than one thing at a time – something I’ve never been very good at. Multi-tasking I can do, provided the tasks are linked or they create a kind of harmony for the main task at hand – but when I haven’t chalked out some kind of order/schedule then I end up falling behind in one or the other thing. In this case blogging…

Anyways so here I am – after a rather interesting week. Lots of reading up online, sparked off by some gyan-search needed for my AF exam which kind of spread out, with some attempts to study and a successful effort at organizing my notes. Had planned to visit Bbay this weekend and have some much-deserved fun now that Kunu has officially shifted back to Bbay (I envy him big-time!), but my BP played truant and dipped low (54/90 - horror of horrors!) forcing me to stay back….the mood-swings oscillating faster than a pendulum didn’t help matters much! So now I’m under the scrutiny of Mommy dearest who’s doing her best to pump Vitamins into me – atleast she can’t complain that I’m not eating well – with the amount of weight I’ve gained since I got back from Europe I have to now start thinking seriously of getting an exercise regime into action, if I hope to continue fitting into my size 24 jeans! Ah where went those days when I was ridiculously underweight? ;-)

Note on advertisements that caught my attention recently – The (Motorola?) SLIM advert annoys me. I find it quite disturbing that the advert promotes the ‘slim’ image for women – and we are trying to battle the growing incidences of Anorexia among young women?
The new Reliance phones advert makes me want to slap someone – could the girl have been portrayed more materialistic and silly? Gawd – but that couple is the heights!
On the other hand – the Tata Indigo Marina advert is very nice. Tasteful. Classy. And I love the way they wove the by-line into the story. "Because we like to carry the world with us" - I like! :-)

Right now

• I’m reading a book on Picasso – it’s a Taschen publication. I picked up the book from the Taschen outlet, Paris (yeps it’s been months since then) and started reading it last week to get the French flowing in my head! Though I didn’t quite comprehend Picasso's style of painting earlier, it’s slowly starting to make sense to me now and I'm regretting having missed the Picasso exhibition when it had come to NGMA (Bbay). Am finding myself increasingly interested in Art and with my preliminary readings I think I quite like the Impressionists.
• I’m listening to Billy Joel’s We Dint Start the Fire.
• I'm feeling very Smug and Content with today's shopping at FabIndia, my decision to send personally made cards this year for Diwali and my initial preparations on this new project - and finally having bought a nice book to jot down quotes/poems/gyan that catch my attention! The double dessert of Kheer and left-over Apple Stew just made that smile broader! :-)

Being Twenty-Something

"They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't.

One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. One night stands and random hook-ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.

You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out...maybe it will help to think that you aren't alone in this state of confusion...

GOOD LUCK TO ALL OF US. " - Anonymous

- I received this forward a few years ago, when I'd just turned twenty and found it amazingly "spot-on" in its content...an ex-classmate from college sent it again today - and as I read it, I was struck by how many of the things mentioned have been experienced by me, and even catalogued in this very blog. Simply had to post it!

Amused & Bemused

A classmate remarked on my appearance today, leaving me amused, not to mention bemused!!

"You are looking very Indian today"
- Eh? So normally I look like a....??? LOL!!

Current mood :- Very very nostalgic about my stay in Germany last year -October, November and December (the month I travelled to Sweden and France) - I soooooooo wanna go back to France...not to mention Magdeburg. I've been thinking about our apartment, the route to REAL/Karstadt, the trams, all those soirees with Annika...hope I can go back one day - preferably soon! :-)

The Spread of English or the Death of Native Languages

The British Council Library organised a series lectures by David Crystal, world-renowned linguist who's publications include Cambridge Encyclopaedia of English. Unfortunately I didn't know about the lecture in Pune in advance, so I couldn't go attend it...ICK! I really should get that BCL membership, being too lazy...anyways found these articles in the TOI reporting his lectures in Delhi and Pune :-

The world'll speak in Hinglish'

'One language is dying every two weeks'

They are worth reading - what he says about the spread of English and it's impact on world languages is highly pertinent and something that we should all be conscious of, since our generation is after all the generation that speaks a very hybridised language most of the time, and is losing touch with "Indian realities" in terms of language and culture very very fast...

Ranting, Raving, Raging

Tempers are flaring in class as the mess with our course schedule & exam schedule gets worse – so now the Director wants us to have our written exam also to be held in end Oct. Ofcourse people have problems – while the Director is right when he says that the long gap will affect our performance, I find it extremely annoying that the institution is acting in such a hap-hazard confused manner. It’s unfair to ask students to adjust because a new exam schedule has to be made – no official institution should be changing the schedule, just because a professor has to go elsewhere for work….a replacement should be arranged. When students signed up for the course they assumed that the exams would be in December – moving it upto November was one thing, but to move it upto Oct and then blatantly ask people to re-arrange things that they have planned and oragnised 3 months ago is highly unjust, unprofessional and unethical, in my opinion. And if you’re falling short of teachers – hire new ones damn it – AF doesn’t fall under the awful government bureaucracy that prevents them from hiring teachers easily…

Yesterday I could feel the difference in the ways the AF-Pune and AF-Bombay are run, more than ever before…I felt like telling my professor that THIS is why Bombay is a better city – this kind of unprofessional behaviour would never be seen in AF-Bombay. Schedules once fixed are not screwed around with.

Now you wonder why I’m up in arms about all this – I have no plans for Oct – I can give the exam as easily in Oct, as Nov or Dec…Heh…I’m just falling back on an old habit of taking up for classmates and crusading for their cause. I so hate it when people say “We can’t make adjustments for one or two people – you have to think of the good of the whole group” – yes, you do…but if you really mean that, then you wouldn’t mess up in the first place, would you? Hypocrites – banish them from the surface of the earth please!

Phew…I raged about this yesterday in class and later at home, while cooking up a meal for my dear brother, who’s been pining for an “English dinner” (read – no roti, sabzi, dal, chawal – but stuff that I cook!)…Ma got quite fed-up of me banging utensils around and hearing me rant and rave…Hahaha…but the catharsis sure feels good.

On a different note – Papa had accidentally broken the bottle of wine I’d bought in Bordeaux and was saving for a special occasion, when we’d just shifted into this place…I was really upset with him and didn’t speak to him for several days…the darling that he is, he asked his Boss, Dr Metzger to get 2 bottles of French red wine for me. And...the nice man that Dr.M is, he picked up pretty good wines – Provencal and Sauvignon…

Ok Papa I take back all those nasty things I said that day – you still are the bestest father in the whole universe!!!! :-)

R.I.P

In the last one month we’ve lost several great people, who have shaped the way culture is as we say it today – world culture and Indian culture…

Christopher Reeves – Superman – passed away 2 days ago, after a long struggle against the paralysis that had confined him to a wheelchair and forced him to survive on a respirator, after a equestrian accident.

Derrida, the founder of the Deconstructionist school of thought (which I studied in MA-II but still don’t under what it is all about!) passed away a few days back in Paris – the man definitely has an enormous impact on philosophy and the way literary texts are analysed today. Even though most of those who profess to understand him don’t really understand anything, he is a person you can NOT be ignorant of, if you’re in the field.

In India, we paid our last respects Mulk Raj Anand, one of the founders of Modern Indian English Literature, Shobha Gurtu who played an influential role in way Indian music developed and Arun Kolatkar, bi-lingual poet of collections of poems such as “Jejuri” and “Kala Ghoda”….

R.I.P

P.S. While on the subject of literature, I couldn’t resist making this small point – as I read about the latest Nobel Laureate, I couldn’t help but think that there is at least one person I know who would want to read “The Piano Teacher” ;-)

Stressed...

Discovered this week that my AF classes for this session are getting over in 2 weeks – our prof has to go to France, so we were having extra sessions in order to wrap up the syllabus before she left…in the process, we’ve wrapped up the syllabus and completed the number of hours well before her departure…so they’ve decided to prepone the exams, since a very long break before exams would obviously effect our performance, specially in the orals. My oral exam is scheduled to be held in the last week of October and the written will be held during the last weekend of November…

When I began the course I thought it's a 6 month course with my exams in end Dec - that moved up to end Nov, and I assumed we'd have classes till the Diwali break, which starts from Nov6th...now suddenly I have to prepare myself for the orals which will be in another 3 weeks...doesn't help that this time one of the examiners will be the Director of AFP and our papers go to France for correction. Ah well, just an exam...so I've been moved into action sooner than I thought...and so the schedule has been moved around...nothing earth-shattering!

Remember my belief :-

Exam is just a letter word - so are "Life" and "F***" both of which are more important!! ;-)

I am a bit upset with the change in schedules though -hopefully the next (and my last level) at AF will start in Jan : Diplome Superieur. If that doesn't go as planned, then my plans for the immediate future are sure going to be screwed up royally...I'll be the dhobi ka kutta, jo na ghar ka hota hai na ghat ka...
*Crossing my fingers tight*

Puzzled...

Ever wondered :

1. Why Indians hardly frequent museums – shouldn’t museum visits be an integral part of every person’s childhood (& parenthood, for that matter), specially considering that as Indians, we pay a measly little sum of Rs.25/- at most museums, and that they are an excellent source of the country’s rich historical background & heritage culture, not to mention an “outing” for the little ones?

2. Why Indians returning from a stay abroad, or NRI’s visiting the “pyaara desh” for a holiday complain about the poor infrastructure, the bad roads, the slums and filth on the streets, the corrupt officials etc etc, when so many times it is there very people who throw every last vestige of basic civic sense out of the window, and carelessly spit on the road, litter the streets with assorted junk, and bribe the local pandu for breaking the signal without blinking an eye?

3. Isn't it time we shrugged off that “Hum to aise hi” tag and started doing something to make maximum use of the endless resources of manpower, natural wealth & culture, instead of merely mouthing inanities about all this at the annual beauty contests? That we started standing up for our own country when someone blithely criticizes it, instead of shame-facedly apologizing for it’s faults?

Hmm…

Ick

Life's not fair - so one of those people I absolutely adore(Amit) is in B'bay for a week (on work) before flying out of the country (again) and I have no hopes of meeting him!!
Ick Ick Ick
I want to go back to B'bay!!

TOI Reports

Two articles in the TOI caught my attention today :-

Frequently Flying to Cancer Zone
( I know plenty of people who fall in the category of frequent flyers - my father used to be one himself, though he didn't fly trans-atlantic often, and this sure made me sit up and take notice....)

Do We Deserve the Taj? - Bachi Karkaria
(The Taj - a monument we are immensely proud of, and which has been the the centre of much discussion recently; whether it was Mayawatiji's plan to build a mall in its background, which my German friends nicknamed 'Aldi Mahal' - sacrilige I tell you - or our lack of efforts to preserve the monument etc etc...we all have read and heard much about it.
Basically, you know what she has to say, but it's the way she says it. The language, the articulation of thoughts, the subtle but effective sarcasm...she actually uses words like 'mofussil'....she kills me! *Chortling with glee!*
The innumerable, annoying adverts on the site take away some of the joy of reading a Karkaria write-up, nevertheless this is one article of hers that you've got to read! Me -I'm cutting it out and saving it!)

Un Mosaique

A mosaic of thoughts & events – that’s what this blog is gonna be…

Spent the weekend translating stuff from English to French – my first assignment – was up till 1.30 am last night finishing it off and by the time I wrapped it up, I was feeling like even my dreams would be in French ! (That didn’t happen mercifully!) I have never used the dictionary as much as I did in the last 3 days – and I couldn’t even curse the copywriter for using such ornate & embellished language, since it was me who wrote the stuff in English also! Or wait, who’s to stop me from cursing? Ha!

I could have finished the work by Sunday evening but Daddy dearest summoned us to his factory in the hills (he’s a workaholic, so don’t be surprised that he was there EVEN on a Sunday!) coz he wanted Bhaiyya to take some photographs – we were supposed to be there for just half-an-hour, but ended up spending over 3 hours there till the work got done. Spent the time exploring the place – it’s huge so I managed to while away quite a lot of time in that. Then took Schnapps out to run around…peered over the walls at the adjoining fields, trying to figure out what it is being grown – could make out tomatoes and brinjals…went back in and tried convincing papa to buy “fresh vegetables” from the farmers and got chased away. LOL! I didn’t give up – I was back a few minutes later with a list of questions about what is being done, why and how – turns out they were making the work-stations for LG Mobile that is apparently going to produce the first GSM phones to be manufactured in India. Since the machines used for this produce a high amount of heat, the tables were also being fitted with exhaust-fans at the back…hmmm…interesting.

Oh btw - I think if I end up with a guy who has a genuine 9-5 kinda job, I won't know what to do with him...am too accustomed to my father & brother staying out of the house for a minimum of 12 hours and want to throw them out of the house when they are on a break of more than 2 days! LOL!

On our way back, it was all dark and I couldn’t make out any of the rolling green countryside dotted with patches of yellow and orange wild flowers, which makes the drive to the factory so pleasant – we stopped for dinner at a restaurant in the IT Park of Hinjewadi. What an experience – the place is obviously very popular with the new breed of highly paid BPO employees and IT consultants and after having sat in a room full of them, I’ve come to this conclusion : high salaries don’t necessarily come packaged with basic etiquette of social behavior. The amount of noise those guys generated – all we wanted to do was gobble our food out and escape into the silence outside!!!

Hmmm....

Was seeing Stewart Little II on *Movies on Saturday night, and noticed something – the NY cabbie, in the scene where the Elder Littles realise their darling Stewart is out in the big bad world and set out to rescue him from the falcon, was an Indian who keeps saying “Okie-dokie, no problem” in the most obnoxious irritating accent. Feeding the stereotypes about Indians in NY????

Also saw the new Brit comedy “Coupling” on *World – BRIT COMEDIES ROCK!!! You can’t miss this one – its outrageously funny and will keep you in splits! I’ve seen it thrice and each time I’m rolling on the floor laughing my ass off! :-)

Currently nostalgic about M*A*S*H* and Karma Chameleon!!!

Bonne Anneversaire....

Yesterday was my "Heppy Bird Day" - one year older, but no less wiser! LOL - feels odd, 23 is an age by which one should have a reasonable idea of which direction one is headed towards..and I'm still weighing my options! Scared of growing up...

The day was quite good, despite the fact that I’m sitting in this town far-away from all my friends. At AF Pune you have to take a cake to class if it’s your birthday – so I baked a huge cake the previous day. Class takes off a light note, and our Prof is persuaded to take on something fun and not stressful. And plus we try our level best to sing “Bonne Anneversaire…” in the right tune!! Hehe…;-)

Plus all those e-cards, SMS and telephone calls made the day as special as it could possibly be. I know I have my share of eccentricities and have driven most of up the wall with my quirks and idiosyncrasies, my stubbornness and my absurd expectations, not to mention the fact that I’ve forgotten to wish many of my friends on their birthday this year– that they still count me as part of their life and remember my birthday means a lot to me! :-)

Phone calls filled my evening – and then we went for dinner. I decided to abandon my usual favourite Mainland China this year and chose La Dolce Vita, having seen a tiny advert for the restaurant in Pune Times, thinking it would be a nice cozy little Italian Restaurant. Nice it was – but definitely not small or cozy. The advert gave no indication of how fancy the place would be – needless to say I loved it! Gourmet dinner, wine, cheese – an absolutely divine ambience – oh yes I loved it! As Bhaiyya commented, “Trust Geetanjali to pick a place like this for dinner – and who else, but her to polish off the cheese platter and the wine!” LOL! Goes without saying that dinner at La Dolce Vita was the icing on the cake for the day! ;-)

At Peace...

Last night the skies opened and it rained and it poured – not just cats and dogs, but the entire animal kingdom! The Gods put up a grand show for us – the clouds thundered noisily and streaks of lightening illuminated the countryside every few minutes. Obviously we didn’t have electricity – actually the power would come and go so often every few minutes, that the invertor decided not too function at all. And eventually we got a bit fed-up of the disco-effect and stuck to plain candle-light! So it was candle-light dinner for a change (and since my brother gets free samples of aromatic candles, the room smelled of citrus mingled with the smells of a storm)…dinner of Kathi Kabab rolls and soup was wrapped up quickly and then everyone decided to retire early since there was nothing else to do…

Far from sleepy, I wandered around the house with a candle in my hand – and all of a sudden remembered the music video “Aa ja re” which featured a ghost walking around town with a candle, singing the haunting melody. Heheh…promptly set off in the direction of the other bedrooms a la Ms. Ghost trying to sing “Aa ja re…mere dilbur aa ja”…freaked everyone out, more by my attempts at singing, than by my ghostly appearance (or lack of!) – hahaha! Fun! Whiled away some more time, sending SMS to friends, but ended up sleeping pretty early, after my candle got extinguished by a gust of wind.

This morning I woke up to a wonderful day – the heavens seemed to have been washed clean with the night’s storm; azure skies greeted me when I drew the curtains apart. A gentle breeze was accompanied by the chirping of birds and the smell of the damp earth (best expressed by “saundhi gandh”). One of those birds visited our balcony and was fluttering around our plants. I took a picture when it rested on the railing for a few minutes. Quite a fascinating bird – it has what I’d call a “pyaazi” colour, a longish sharp beak and the undersides of its wings has a dash of green! Sadly I couldn’t capture that in the photograph.

All this put me in a wonderful mood immediately, and I began the day by listening to the 2 CDs I picked up yesterday – The Essential Billy Joel and Storytellers (18 of the Biggest Hits of All Time). A lazy breakfast of French toast & coffee was followed by a lazy perusal of the Sunday papers…:-)

Now this is what I call a nice weekend!

Random Rambling

So there I was standing under the shower, luxuriating in the feel of the scalding needles of water giving me a wonderfully relaxing back-massage – I was standing in my “stork” position, on one foot (Ekpad-asana position, for those of you who know yoga), as I’m often prone to when I’m thinking – and suddenly the world tilted! My foot slipped and the next thing I knew I was lying on the tiles! I’m not quite sure what happened, but I do know that I hit my head pretty hard on the floor and everything ached like hell for the rest of the day (some of me still hurts!) ….now any normal damsel in distress would have wailed, made some noise about the terrible fall she had, feigned weakness and stayed home that day.

Me?

I sat up, disoriented for a while, yelled at Schnapps who was barking outside the bathroom door like Sherlock Holmes out to solve the mystery of the strange noise emitting from the bathroom, rinsed my hair and then washed my clothes! Ah the joys of having clothes that can’t be put in the washing-machine with the rest of the clothes, because they bleed so much!

Emerging from the bathroom I told mommy dearest that I had a fall; she asked if I want to go to class and I said “Ofcourse, why not?” Later as I sat in the bus and started feeling the beginning of a headache, backache, leg ache (so and so forth) I realized why she had asked me to stay home! Smart, ain’t I? LOL – and the bitch that I am, I thought to myself that if I’d been one of my cousins (I’m being prudent by not naming anyone) I’d have fainted in the bathroom, at the least sprained a few limbs and been carried around and fussed over for atleast a week. Sigh – not my style though. All I do is swallow a Dispirin, continue with the day as planned and blog about my misfortunes!;-) Hahaha!

Thought for the Day :-
Why do women in Indian insist on seeing a “Lady Doctor” when, who they really want to see is a Gynecologist? Is it some kind of miscomprehension on my behalf when I fail to immediately connect a “lady” doctor with a gynecologist? I so fail to comprehend why an educated woman of the 21st century insists on using Victorian euphemisms for such issues. Some of the analogies they come up with are so ludicrous they should be awarded for their ingenuity and creativity!

A Jeremiad

Today was one of those days when just nothing seemed to go right – as if my already escalating feelings of despondence weren’t enough, the bus ride back home turned out to be one of the most annoying I’ve ever had. I’ve said this before and I say it again – I fail to understand why women think there’s no reason to complain if the person leaning heavily against you is another woman! Sorry boss, you violate my privacy irrespective of what sex you are. I do not like to be pushed – so what if you’re a woman? The offense is no less. Argh!!! Consequently, I’ve returned home with a throbbing shoulder, a headache and very little patience left to deal with the morons and irritating vermins of the world. Grrrr…

A few weeks back my friend Kunal was here – he came back with me after my last trip to Bombay & stayed a week. It was so nice having him around, being able to talk him at the end of the day that now the enforced isolation is grating even more. I have never been an extrovert and always found it difficult to strike up a conversation with a stranger or get acquainted with new people; it’s harder at this age than ever before. Friends from childhood may have drastically different temperaments, interests and lifestyles – but they are the people you grew up with. So the differences just seem to fade away when you’re together. Frankly if I were to befriend someone today, the person would have to think on the same wave-length as me, atleast 50% of the time, or else we’ve got to share a great chemistry. Call it a failing in my personality, but I simply can’t get myself to “make friends” with people I meet – just like that. A question I face very often these days : “So have you made any friends yet? There must be people your age in your colony or in class.” It'snever been more difficult to explain that I don’t “make friends” so easily, that I’m not a vibrant, out-going person. *Sigh*

I miss my friends more than ever these days – I always knew that we’d go different ways after graduation/post-graduation, but when the distances grow, and more and more friends seem to live on the other end of the globe, the world seems to become increasingly lonely.

Historical Facts About Ancient & Modern Afrikans

"History dictates that if you do not know your past, then you cannot analyze the present and plan for the future.
History also suggests that correct, historical information empowers a people, while incorrect, a historical albeit mis-information only leads to the powerlessness of a people."

Last year while studying New Literatures in English, we studied the works of several African theorists and authors and I learnt many things about the "Dark Continent" that were previously unknown to me - for instance, till then I hadn't the faintest clue as to why the borders of African countries are so straight as if drawn with a ruler. It's because they were drawn with a ruler - at the Berlin Conference, 1884, when European colonisers sat at a conference table and cold-bloodledly drew lines across the continent, dividing it amongst them, without sparing a second's thought to the havoc they would wreck over tribal communities across the land. It's also the reason why so many of them speak a European language in addition to their native tongue (which also faces the danger of being wiped out)...

Today, while doing a French assignment on "Asterix and Cleopatra" (of all the things) I came across a very interesting site, compiling facts about the Afrikans, most of which were unknown to me. While the entire page is worth reading, these two retained my attention :

• The stark historical reality is that during the B.C. era when the Emperor of Rome, Julius Caesar, had a sexual liaison with the ruler of Kemet (Egypt), Queen Cleopatra VII, a son named Caesarion was born on 23 June 47 B.C. in Kemet as a result of that sexual encounter. However, what is historically vital and relevant is that the birth of this boy child, Caesarion, was not a natural birth. In other words, the High Priests of ancient Kemet had to perform a special surgical procedure to deliver Caesarion; this surgical procedure that the ancient Egyptian High Priests/physicians performed in 47 B.C. to deliver Caesarion is what is called the “Caesarean Section” in modern A.D. medicine today. The ancient Egyptian High Priests named their medical procedure in honor of Caesarion’s father, Caesar.
• The ancient Egyptians had a test for pregnancy. A woman was asked to urinate daily on two cloth bags, one containing emmer (wheat) and the other barley. If both germinated she was said to be pregnant, if neither did, then she was not. It has been known since 1927 that a particular hormone is present in the urine of a pregnant woman and so modern pregnancy tests are based on this ancient Egyptian medical practice. The ancient Egyptian doctors first tested the effect that urine had on grain simply because they associated grain with life and they expected that a woman who was carrying new life would have a spiritual affinity with the grain. They therefore observed then what medical science only knows today that the urine of pregnant women can sometimes cause grain to germinate, whereas that of women who are not pregnant always causes it to wither.

(Courtesy : Historical Facts about ancient & modern Afrikans)

Philistine

Phil·is·tine
n.
1. A member of an Aegean people who settled ancient Philistia around the 12th century B.C.
2. A smug, ignorant, especially middle-class person who is regarded as being indifferent or antagonistic to artistic and cultural values.
3. One who lacks knowledge in a specific area.
adj.
1. Of or relating to ancient Philistia.
2. Often philistine Boorish; barbarous: “our plastic, violent culture, with its philistine tastes and hunger for novelty” (Lloyd Rose).

Etymology:
From Middle English Philistines, Philistines, from Late Latin Philistn, from Greek Philistnoi,
from Hebrew Plitîm, from Pleet Philistia.

It has never been good to be a Philistine. In the Bible Samson, Saul, and David helped bring the Philistines into prominence because they were such prominent opponents. Though the Philistines have long since disappeared, their name has lived on in the Hebrew Scriptures. The English name for them, Philistines, which goes back through Late Latin and Greek to Hebrew, is first found in Middle English, where Philistiens, the ancestor of our word, is recorded in a work composed before 1325. Beginning in the 17th century philistine was used as a common noun, usually in the plural, to refer to various groups considered the enemy, such as literary critics. In Germany in the same century it is said that in a memorial at Jena for a student killed in a town-gown quarrel, the minister preached a sermon from the text “Philister über dir Simson! [The Philistines be upon thee, Samson!],” the words of Delilah to Samson after she attempted to render him powerless before his Philistine enemies. From this usage it is said that German students came to use Philister, the German equivalent of Philistine, to denote nonstudents and hence uncultured or materialistic people. Both usages were picked up in English in the early 19th century.

I spent the entire weekend trying very hard to remember this word - like my dreams and goals, even this word seemed illusive and out of reach. Was quite frustrated and as a result I spent quite a few hours indulging in self-pity and as usual I digressed from the main issue and started wondering how people can be content with mediocrity in life...

This morning I woke up - and the word was there! Right there where it should have been - within reach and easy to access! Hallelujah!!! I'm feeling nicer about myself today - and I think I can wait for a few more years before writing myself off! After all, I have miles to go before I sleep! ;-)

Every Rose Has Its Thorn

We both lie silently still
in the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart inside

Was it something I said or something I did
Did the words not come out right
Though I tried not to hurt you
Though I tried
But I guess that's why they say

Chorus:
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Yeah it does

I listen to our favorite songplaying on the radio
Hear the DJ say loves a game
of easy come and easy go
But I wonder does he know
Has he ever felt like this
And I know you'd be here right now
If I could have let you know somehowI guess

Chorus

Though it's been a while now
I can still feel so much pain
Like a knife that cuts you the wound heals
but the scar, that scar remains

I know I could have saved a love that night
If I'd known what to say

Instead of makin' love
We both made our separate ways
But now I hear you found somebody new
and that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife
I guess

Chorus

- Poison

As always the song struck a chord inside me - and then I read this and I wonder if it's possible to walk away, without a backward glance, to move on and build something new?