"Please Sir, I want some more"

I have never been interested in reading classics and pure literature and tend to enjoy fictions and thrillers. As a student, I hated memorizing lines from Shakespeare and from great works of Charles Dickens which were part of the curriculum. But Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens was an exception. I enjoyed the story and not having a great memory for quotes, the line "Please Sir, I want some more" by Oliver, the orphan asking for more gruel is still etched in my memory. It was a touching line in the novel and somehow has stayed with me all these years and recently had a profound impact in my personal life.

I underwent a surgery last month and was asked to be on liquid diet for three days prior to the surgery. Never the type to observe fasting even for ritual sake, I found this to be a tough task. I was tempted to give up and start on my routine diet several times before the surgery. But the strict instruction from the surgeon held me back. Once the surgery was over, the first thought after the anaesthetic effect wore out was that I could go back to my normal diet. But the doctor felt that I needed to be on drips for couple of days before resuming normal diet. My mind was quickly calculating the number of days I have been starved of solid food. Almost five days........that was just too much. I was even ready to walk and jump just to show the doctor how fit I was to resume normal diet. My craving for rice and hot rasam was increasing by the hour. I realized that I could never be one of those women who can go on stringent diets, with no rice, no solid food for days together just to stay slim. I would rather look my plump self and have my regular diet of dosas and sambars and chutneys than starve and look slim.

If I could not stay away from food even for a valid reason, I was wondering how kids and adults alike in countries like Somalia must be craving for food. It also makes me feel ashamed that we are wasting tons of food that is being prepared in excess in marriages and social functions and how  many times we throw away food even at home.

If I felt like begging like Oliver just for couple of days , how many millions in this world are asking for more every day. This surgery has been an eye opener for me at least in terms of experiencing what hunger for food is. I have promised myself to take that extra step to provide something to eat for at least one starved soul other than my kith and kin.

Driving (S)kill?

Every woman who knows driving would vouch that its a liberating feeling to drive your own vehicle and being mobile without depending on anybody else gives a terrific high. I was super excited about learning driving, although a bit late in my life. When hubby dearest gave the green signal for me to go ahead and pay a huge sum to the driving school to learn driving (for which the permission was not granted when we got our first car twenty four years back), I did it within minutes before he could change his mind. To start with, my learner's license test went so smoothly and I was impressed with the perfect arrangements at the RTO for the same. I, in fact, scored perfectly in the written test and felt as though I had topped the board exams. The classes were a breeze and I drove beautifully (nobody from the near and dear circle has seen me drive, so why not use the superlative?). Despite constant threats from friends about the fear of traffic, age factor etc etc . after two more months of extra practice in our own car (contributing to high blood pressure to our driver), I was ready to face the driving test at the RTO again.
On the day of the test, I was not at all nervous and I was sure that the test inspector would be floored by my driving skills . My appointment for the test was at 1 pm and it turned out to be the hottest summer day so far in Mumbai this year. Though I expected the Indian punctuality of 2pm instead of the allotted 1pm timing, it was further pushed to 3 pm. With not a patch of shade in an open ground (yes, an open ground which is a luxury in a city like Mumbai), in sweltering heat, with no drinking water or sanitation facilities, the two hours wait for my turn for the test (among 70 other candidates)slowly turned into a daymare(antonym of nightmare). Finally when I actually took the test, I was made to drive an old santro (instead of a brand new Honda city car in which I had practiced) in which the gears were tattering and I could hardly sense which gear I was applying and to top this torture, the inspector constantly was giving instructions in Marathi language which was as alien as Greek and Latin to me and the driving strip so bumpy that it was literally like driving the car on rocky mountains which is shown to be glamorous in ads but actually is back breaking. Just two minutes into the test, I was asked to stop and get down. I was stunned, I was disappointed that I was not allowed to show my skills in taking turns and smoothly moving on to fourth gear and fifth gear and show my driving skills on  a traffic less , smooth highway.
Every single candidate was allowed to test drive for less than two minutes on this bumpy patch and decided were good enough to get a license. When I asked my driving school instructor whether I would get a license since I was not tested for my responses to traffic signals or for my skills in maneuvering the vehicle through a stream of traffic. The driving school instructor casually said that he would make sure that I get my license within couple of weeks as I was good enough in starting the engine and moving ahead.Wow what standards are set for getting license in a big city like Mumbai. Are they issuing this license to drive or is it a license to kill? I am still wondering and realize that its a actually a smooth ride (unlike the actual one) to get a license here than in any other country. All you need to know is how to start the vehicle, that's it!

Self(ie) destruction

 I have always had a low self esteem when it comes to my photographs. Though , as a child, I was fond of dressing up and like all other kids, loved to pose in every photograph that was taken during occasions like wedding or family functions. My uncle, who was a budding photographer then, used to click my pictures at random and when I happened to look at them later, I always wondered why my nose looked this way in a photograph, or why my head was tilted in another or why my hair strand was not in place in the third. I eternally have complaints about the way I look in every photograph. There has never been a perfect photograph of myself in my opinion. But never do I shy away from posing with the hope that at least the next photograph would turn out be a perfect one for me. But I am yet to have that satisfaction.
With the advent of mobile phones, taking pictures of random people , random places has become a huge hobby. I do agree that having a camera so handy has helped me capture some beautiful moments instantly without having to run around finding a good camera and setting it up. But I am appalled by this craze of taking "selfies" and "usfies" in the recent times. It is almost bordering on arrogance to take so many pictures of oneself as though nothing in the world around you is more important than yourself. There are reports about how people are happily clicking selfies in the midst of accidents and have become victims of accidents due to carelessly taken selfies. I don't understand how people can stare at the camera and click pictures which enlarge their features to monstrous proportions and still find them to be pleasing to the eyes and upload them on their social media sites. The endless pouting poses annoy me and I am unable to recognise even the close relatives in their selfie poses due to the enlarged features and wierd expressions. But surely, this selfie craze has brought a positive outlook in me and I have lesser complaints about my looks in the normal photographs that are taken and in fact, feel glad that my features don't look enlarged as in selfie and the natural background of my picture is more pleasing to the eyes than a narcissistic selfie.

Sugar crush!

Does the title sound like candy crush , latest sensation among the gaming enthusiasts? I am sure, the success of this game is due to the huge diabetic population which relishes the candies at least in the game.
Since both my parents are diabetic and always the threat of me becoming one is there , I thought I should have enough of all the sweets I relish before I come into the risk category. I never realized till about recently that diabetes was knocking at my door and it would all come down to my will power not to open the door for it.  Recent round of health check up showed that I am a borderline case and  am likely to  join the club soon.
As a first step towards prevention, I decided not to give in to the weakness of munching chocolates at any given time and also cut down on sugar added to tea or coffee. I was foolish enough to think that this is going to be a cakewalk (why do I have to think of cake now?). Gulping down a bitter cup of coffee early in the morning was the worst punishment I have had in my life so far.  Just a sip and I decided, ok, I am just borderline case, a half spoon of sugar won't do me any harm and promised to myself , no more sugar for the day.  Then during the day, every time I opened my fridge, there was the  chocolate bar that was inviting me. I convinced myself just this day would be the last day of having that bar and I had a hearty bite. By evening, my neighbour sent me a bowl of kheer she had made and I had to taste couple of spoons  as I was sure she would ask my feedback the next day. By the end of the day, starting with a half spoon sugar in my morning coffee , I realised that I have had the regular dose of my sweets and it was just another day of my life without any changes for the warning I have received.
As a daughter, there have been innumerable instances when I have screamed at my father and mother for giving in to temptations and eating sweets during festivals and they were not even habitual sweet lovers like me. Except for the diabetes related outbursts (one or two per day) I can vouch that I lead a very , happy, quarrel free life with my diabetic husband.
If just one day of my life without sugar was so torturous and difficult to resist temptations, I am dreading the Diwali time when the house is going to be loaded with chocolates and sweets of all kinds. The real test for me lies ahead and I am already busy browsing the net for all kinds of tips to keep my sugar level under control irrespective of the amount of sweets I eat. I am also trying to drink everything from karela juice to aloe vera juice and anything recommended by anybody to keep diabetes at bay. I am sure, I am going to get free advice wherever I go and I am game for trying them as long as they give me the choice to enjoy my sweets. The images below are for representation purposes only !

Eco-friendly Ganesha

Ganesh Chathurthi is one of my favourite Hindu festivals, since it involves lord Ganesha, the most fascinating Hindu God and also the modaks that are made during the festival are my favourite sweet. The vivid memory from my childhood celebrating this festival, involves the trip to the market to buy a small idol of Ganesha for the puja. Couple of days before the festival, the market area used to be bustling with activity, with mountains of clay being kept on the pavements and artisans busy making the idol for the orders. I used to watch fascinated the way the artisans deftly created the elephant face and within minutes, the ball of clay turning into an idol was a real treat. the fun part of the puja was the visarjan or immersion of the idol in ponds or wells that followed the day after the puja. The idol was dropped into the well and the whole family stood around the well watching the idol slowly getting immersed and disappearing.
Though the prices of the clay idol have gone up over the years,  the simplicity of the festival, celebration with a clay idol and its immersion is still a custom that is followed. But after coming to mumbai, the city which is known for its Ganesh chathurthi festival and its grandeur, I realise that the celebration here is not as eco friendly as in chennai, my home town.
We could not find a single market which had clay or artisans making clay idols and we were not interested in buying huge PoP idols that were sold.  The idols  are huge and the festival is a community celebration. Hence the puja and immersion are a grand affair with lot of song, music and dance. Though it has a different flavour here, the noise pollution and the water pollution that result from the celebrations here is really frightening and I wonder what kind of negative impact will this festival have in the future, and just hope that huge PoP idols and playing loud music during the festivities at every corner of the streets is banned soon.
Though a small percentage of the population in Maharashtra is now thinking of eco friendly ways of celebrating the festival, its going to take several years before the entire state changes its way and the damage caused to the nature might be too much by then.

 Huge procession for immersion which stalls the entire city on the day.








Immersion of huge idols     

    The remains of the idols at the sea shore days after the immersion

Getting rid of books.

My father, as I have mentioned earlier in my blog posts, was a voracious reader. He used to say that his father, who was a school teacher in a small village used to get him books from his school library and my father read them at such a pace that soon my grandfather had to borrow books from friends and relatives to keep my father engaged. My father had no restrictions with regard to the subjects he read. His biggest disappointment in us as children was that we were not as widely read as he was. But the good habit that he inculcated in us , I realise, is of great value at middle age.
I have not been an avid reader like my father despite having a huge library at home and always had the excuse that I was busy with my studies and later on with my family duties. But I am ashamed and at the same time amazed that my daughters have taken after my father more than me and are able to read books along with their academic pursuits. If alive, my father would have been proud of them.
Now, well into my late 40s, I realize that I have more time on my hands than before and I should not be giving lame excuses for not reading books. But with time, technology has grown multi-fold  and books as hard copies are no longer preferred. Few years back, my daughters used to pester me to buy books they have heard about from their friends and this habit was burning a hole in our pockets as the new editions were really expensive. But for the past couple of years they have switched over to e-books and they are busy with their tablets and kindles reading books. I too have started reading books which I had been planning since years to read and find that they are easily accessible over the internet and I need not even step out of my house, visit a library or a bookshop to find my favourite book. But its a strange feeling to hold a e-reader and flip pages just with the touch of the finger. There is no cosy feeling of holding my book close to me next to the pillow when I doze off while reading. The intoxicating fragrance of the printed pages is no longer there. I am missing all this, but still having thousands of books at the touch of your finger is rather a big boon than searching rows and rows of books in a library for that single one which you would be hooked to.
My e-reader I hope would become my best buddy in the days to come. 

Courage in adversity

Few years back, for a brief period , I had to stay alone in Bangalore with two small kids as my husband had been posted to Singapore and I could not move in immediately with him. That brief period of managing two small kids all alone in Bangalore was a tough period. I could not leave them behind in the apartment if I had to go out to buy groceries or vegetables as they were very young and I was scared that they might accidentally do something if left alone. but managing them outside with all the shopping bags and busy roads to cross was a bigger challenge. But the biggest challenge of staying alone was facing the callous attitude of one of the officers of my husband's company  towards me as we were staying in the company given apartment.
As per the rules, we were entitled to occupy the apartment till my children completed the academic year in the school, even if my husband was posted elsewhere. My husband had clearly explained this to me and asked me not to worry about continuing to stay in the apartment. But , out of the blue, one day, a good friend of my husband who was also the senior officer in the company, barged into my apartment and asked me the details as to when I was to vacate the flat. When I explained to him that I was awaiting the visa and school authorities to provide me the necessary transfer certificate for my children, he refused to believe it and said I was overstaying and I could be thrown out any time. Despite being an educated woman and fully aware of the company rules, I was shaken and had to call my husband and inform him about this threat.  I was petrified and was under constant fear that some other officer too could walk in like that and threaten me. Luckily, I vacated the apartment soon after that. Despite being an educated woman, I was afraid of the higher authorities who had the audacity to threaten a housewife in the absence of her spouse. It takes lot of guts to stand up to them and I have  never been a brave one in my life who could raise her voice or show courage while facing rude or abusive people .

Family of Fireman Killed in Mumbai High-Rise Fire Refuses to Take His Body(News headlines)

Therefore, it was a huge surprise for me when I came across this news of a fire fighter’s wife, who was not half educated as me , raise her voice against the authorities who were responsible for her husband's death and blamed their apathy for her husband's death. She even refused to take her husband's body home unless she was assured in writing for a handsome compensation and an assured job for her. The authorities as usual waited for her to relent , but when they knew she was adamant in her demands, they had to given in and had to provide the written assurance she asked for. Now few other fire-fighter’s widows too are coming out with their woes of not being provided with adequate compensation or jobs. But congratulations to this brave woman who stood up even at that moment of personal loss to get justice from the authorities. Truly a lesson of courage for me!