Wednesday, November 21, 2007


Before I get labelled as a relic in blogdom (if I haven't already), thought I'd start getting some of the tags out of the way. I do love doing tags for the way they give you foddder for the blog. But unfortunately, I seem to be able to attempt it only WAY past the deadline- EVERY other soul having finished by now.

I remember at least two that I have pending- the quirks one from Moppet's Mom and the how-i-met-my-love-and-got-engaged one from- Dotmom? Two that I definitely intend doing, so please put up with this relic.

Well, to start with the quirks- I am just another normal person, I have my quirks. But some are quirkier than the others, as my husband would definitely affirm.

1) When I used to wear specs, I used to use them as a cover for moments of embarassment, nervousness etc. Eg. whenever I got flustered, I would automatically put up my hand and push up my specs onto my nose, re-gathering my composure in those few seconds. Very useful, but now that I wear contacts, the bridge of my nose misses the action.

2) I love buying things I do not have time to use. I have a fancy sewing machine, that I bought when I was pregnant and in my 7th month. To my credit, I DID stitch Sonny boy some pajamas and a romper from my old pajamas (I would post a pic of him wearing said cute romper if only the husband were not averse to my posting pics) I stitched myself a nightie and a couple of kurtas too to wear at home, but that is the end. It now accumulates dust in a corner and my better half's I-told-you-so looks accumulate by the day too. I have also loads of cloth that I bought to stitch, which still lies unstitched. And I keep hankering after cute handy knick kancks to keep my house organized. But the worse half gives me those looks I told you about, and my enthusiasm subsides. My microwave oven exists solely to reheat stuff, tho' when I bought it, I bought a nice recipe book. (And oh! I have plenty of other recipe books too.)

3) I get along pretty easily with people and small talk in the first meeting, and so people think I'm a garrulous soul. But come the second or third, longish meeting, and I get all tongue-tied or close to it. I simply CAN'T get stuff to go yakkitty-yak for extended stretches of time, unless its somebody I really like, when of course, there is no problem at all. This is quite a drawback in my work life.

4) I am technologically challenged. My brain goes all blank when someone tries to explain things to me about how wonderful a thing whatever is. And then, of course, the husband is the person to explain things, and then of course, my favourite past time is shouting at the husband for not explaining things better. (This could explain why I never send you dear ladies and babies cards and stuff that you invite me to participate in. Boo! Hoo! hoo!)
I am also arithmetically challenged. To this day, I don't know how I scored in my school and college Math subjects. And to this day I get confused when these things come up-for this many its that much. So for that many, how much will it be???? Bah!

5) Have been saving this for the last. I love pulling out my body hair.
I even have tweezers bought specially for the purpose. And my husband keeps throwing away the tweezers and I keep buying new ones to replace them.
Before you go eeeewwww! let me explain how this came to be. There is a logical reason.
You know we ladies wax our hair away...? Well, one such waxing day, there was no power at the parlour, (and this was in my impoverished, unmarried days, when money for waxing was nearly non-existent, all being saved for long STD calls to the parents at Kerala, and to the boy friend at Mumbai.) and the lady did a rather hodge podge job of it in the sole light operated by generator.
And when I came home, I found several lonely hairs peeping out sadly from here and there. And I had an official party that very evening! Well, this was in the hostel of course, and so I found tweezers readily enough. And so I proceeded to pluck all the miserable left-alone-behind ones and sent them to accompany their friends in some body-hair-heaven somewhere.
I was so flushed with the thrill of achievement that day!

After that day, I made it a practice to check each time post waxing, and sure enough, each time I would find some poor hair souls left weeping behind, and I would proceed to give send them on their way too.
Soon, the checkings became not just after waxing, but all the time. And there! I had got my quirk, and was quite addicted to it. And sometimes when tweezers are not handy, I resort to what our original ancestors did- I use my nails.
I have grown quite adept at it now. If you had seen me, you would have thought that I was just picking some speck of dust or particle from my arm, leg, with my fingers, but now you would know better, wouldn't you?

There, those were some of my quirks. Moppet's Mom, if anybody refuses to have anything to do with me after reading my last quirk, I will hold you responsible.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Happy Birthday to MEEEEE!!!!

Its that time of the day again.

When you wake up in the morning with a special feeling in your heart, because you know that today's your special day.

A day when all who are in the know are nice to you. And if ever somebody turns out not nice, all you have to do is tell them that its your B'day today, and voila! they turn nice for a day too!

And this is a day when you get a whole lot of good wishes- creative ones, from-the-heart ones, flippant ones, regular ones....

I have grown considerably older and wiser(I hope), and today when I look back on the 30 odd years of my life, one thing that comes to the fore, is gratitude for all the good things in my life.

For having all my senses and all my limbs, and my health intact.
For having had a wonderful childhood, with loving parents to fall back upon whenever needed.
For having a sibling with whom I can share almost everything.
For having a good education, that I have been able to put to use.
For having a wonderful husband and a wondrous child.
For having in-laws with whom I share a pleasant relationship
For having friends that made me laugh and enjoy my friendship with them. (Some of them who stood by me through thin too)

Now that I think of it, there are scores of things to be thankful for actually, too many to list down here- I don't want to bore you guys, do I?

And at the end of it, when I think of what I would like for myself in the years ahead, I feel that what is most important is not just to have good things in life, but be able to cope, with hope in your heart, when you come across bad times.

Not for nothing did someone say that Life is not a bed of roses. The man knew what he was saying.

And so, while of course, I would ask God for roses- big, beautiful, bountiful roses of every hue-along my way, if He forgets to prune the stems and I get some thorns as well, then what I ask for myself today is that the beauty of the roses far outweighs the prick of the thorns.
That all the pricks are momentary and get healed soon, and that the fragrance of the roses is what remains in memory.

Monday, November 5, 2007

My better half

Hmm... for about every time I think I'll sever all ties with him, Hubby comes up with something that makes me think he's not that bad actually.

This morning we had a fight over water problems in our flat. (Now you tell me how I'm responsible for the damn security fellow not ordering water in time!)

He, glumly: * coming out at 8.30 from a long sojourn in the loo* "There's no water in the pipe".
She, acidly: * running late for her office* "I know. That's why I have my bath as early as possible".

He, immediately grabbing onto excuse to blame wife: "If you knew, why didn't you do something about it?"
She, with a superior air: "I did- that is when I asked you to HAVE YOUR BATH SOON"!

He: "You should have collected some water in the bucket, at least".
She: "I had so many other things to do".

He: You're never bothered about me!
She: Purses her lips and gives him a glare that conveys that all because of his laggardliness, she's going to get late to her new office. An ominous silence reigns.

He giving her a glare back. I'm not going to office today. YOU can go, and do whatever.

Now this is a mean, mean, MEAN thing to do, cos he knows I haven't driven to my office alone ever, AND he broke the side view mirror of the car, so I had told him yesterday that I wanted him to fix it before I'd drive alone.

But- I am not me for nothing!
I marched into the bedroom, changed my attire and told him that I was going to office. And I sailed out of home, car keys in hand, not forgetting to wave bye to my sweet little mother, who's home and is a blessing in these times, when otherwise I'd have yelled back at the husband and brought the roof down.

I drove with my heart under those pedals. But I'm proud to say that I reached office in record time. And I managed to bloody (sorry) park as well, on a ramp like thing from where the security guys would heave it to whatever floor they liked. (I have no clue how I'm supposed to get it down now in the evening.)
And while I did call up my Mom to tell her I reached safely and in one piece, I did NOT call the mean husband. But to his credit, the man did call up a little later asking me where I had parked the car- his way of getting to know that I had arrived in one piece. Husbands!

Came a call sometime back from the man, asking me why my blog was all bright.
"Bright !?" I echoed, having been totally immersed in work and not having opened the blog, save for the morning check on comments.
"Bright", he repeated.
"I don't know", said I . "I haven't checked my blog". And we said bye.

Now, having seen couple of friends' blogs suddenly get hijacked, I got worried with the sudden observation of my husband. And if he- a techno' geek, couldn't figure out what had happened, what COULD have happened?

click! click! click! I opened my blog and the bright yellow colour hit me. As did- the wonderful new header!

O! O! O!
The sweetheart!
He's gone and created a new header for me.
And isn't that header a perfect depiction of me right now, with no maid?
Isn't he a darling?
Apparently its an advance b'day gift for me.
He couldn't have got me a better one, could he?

Hmmm... time to kiss and make up?

Friday, November 2, 2007

Bunking with a capital B

Had been busy the last week- had to go to Mumbai to meet the rest of the team, who were incidnetally having their quarterly review meeting. Boy! This was one review meeting where I was totally chilled out. No targets unmet yet, you see. *broad smile*

And while this post is on something else, I just have to mention this in passing. Mumbai is so pulsingly ALIVE. There is no other word that fits. Everybody is as busy as a bee and the city hums with activity. Even the bystander's is no aimless idle standing, but purposeful waiting, with eyes alert and constantly darting around. Mumbai is vibrant, on-the-move, vivacious, welcoming, helpful. Tho' I have been there earlier, most of my days were spent within the confines of office, guest house, hotel, etc, with only commuting time being spent outside, and that, concentrating more on colleagues, friends, family.
But this time, we spent a whole day outside, on the streets, observing, and what I noticed about the people of Mumbai was that it was so warm and alive. Salaam Mumbai indeed!

Now coming to the subject of my post.
Why do Indian airhostesses look so drab? I flew Indian while coming back, and at the airport and on the flight, I saw just about a couple who looked somewhat like what air hostesses are supposed to look like. And I don't mean in looks alone, I mean more in their demeanour and the way they carry themselves...
There was NOTHING pleasant, warm and friendly about most of them. More than 60% of the ones I saw looked like middle aged housewives. And while there are plenty of middle aged housewives who are smart, these were nowhere even close. They had unsightly bulges showing flagrantly, the sari (which is such an elegant, graceful attire) was draped totally tastelessly, and their hair was done terribly and they had tonnes of make-up, and they looked such total frumps. No smiles while dealing with you at the check-in counters, no greetings either for a nice safe flight, and on the flight too, the air hostesses looked totally putting off. No warm smiles, just perfunctory lip stretches and one of them had a perpetual grimace on her face. I asked one of them for extra sugar, and she handed it over to me with a look that totally conveyed that this was not what she would like to be doing.
So what was she doing there?

I flew Jet while going out, and they were so professional in their attitude. Yes, they too are there doing a job. But the way in which they approach it made such a difference. They were courteous to the core. You don't have to wear trousers or mini skirts to look smart and appealing.(But having said that, yes, the Kingfisher gals look SEXY, that colour alone is so riveting) And you don't so need to be young either. I have seen senior people in the banking and hospitality sectors who are dressed neatly, and carry themselves so well. So what is it with the Indian air hostesses? Are they underpaid and disgruntled? Whatever it is, I think the management needs to make an effort to get them all spruced up. Coming from a country which has beauty queens, and wearing an attire which has been named by some as the sexiest ever, the gals from the national airline presented a frumpy picture. Sad.

And this took the cake. My flight was at 8.55 last nite. For once in a blue moon ( Hubby always jokes that when I am on time, things invariably go wrong.., and he was proved right) I was there at the airport VERY early- more than an hour before the flight. And I sat down to wait.

8 pm - no announcement
Ditto for 8.15pm, 8.30pm, 8.45pm.

Come 8.55pm, we were all waiting still and looking enquiringly at each other.

By 9.15pm, a sense of camaraderie had developed among some of us, as we started making guesses as to what could have happened. But still nothing from the side of Indian staff.

By 9.30pm, people seated started getting up to stretch their legs, and people walking around started sitting down to rest their legs. But still no announcement.

By 9.55pm, irritated outbursts could be heard from certain quarters of the sitting area. Still no news from Indian.

After 10pm, slowly the door towards the boarding area opened, and a harassed looking steward and a looking sorry-for-herself airhostess came into the lounge. And the steward mumbled something only the people sitting in the first row could catch. But whatever he said had all of them leaping to their feet and rushing across to him. And then, a collective uproar of disbelief and anger rose from the crowd. Which had more people rushing to join the tamasha.

The reason the flight had been delayed was- the co-pilot was not to be found!
He had gone home! Said good bye and good nite for the day.

Leaving all of us passengers feeling very sleepy, and angry, in the lounge. I don't know the exact details- obviously the nitty gritties were not revealed even though a couple of irate passengers were wanting the name of the happy-go-lucky-guy who had gone AWOL.

Apparently they had been trying to trace him (from 8.55?) and had found that he had gone home. And then they were trying to find another pilot who would take on his job. But they were not succesful till after 10pm. Till which time, they kept mum and kept us all not knowing whether we would reach home that nite or not.

So finally for a flight which was scheduled to leave at 8.55, all of us boarded at 10.30. Bah!
I am all for Be Indian, Buy Indian. But fly Indian? Not without some second thinking now.