windsofchange’s blog

My homepage is always set to google and at various times it comes up with significant days and occassionally adds the “happy” tag to it too. It reminds me of a very well written post by one of my friends on iLand,” Today is the lazy day!”
 
Sunday gone turned out to be one such day.
 
Frankly, apart from some special festivals and some close friends’ birthdays and anniversaries I am not too fussed about these special days, be it Valentine’s Day or the Cow appreciation Day.
 
It amuses me a great deal when people wish each other on various “days”. Not so long ago someone wished me,” happy nagapanchami“.  “Yes, thank you. I am about to play with prince python in my den, why don’t you bring your queen cobra along?” said the inner me.
 
That am a  complete wuss when it comes to snakes or for that matter centipede, millipede, metrepede etc etc is another matter. Needless to say,on being reminded of the great cobra I did do quite a snake dance.
 
But then it was mother’s day on sunday. I would not have thought much about it but for a couple of reasons. Firstly, amma had left only a week ago and I sure was not missing her. Ooops, typo! You see, we share quite a “Love-hate” relationship. I love her only when she is far away.That reminds me of  a saying that I have always thought is true, ” Familiarity breeds contempt”, to which one of my close friends always adds, ” and children.”
 
Secondly, I had gone to do my weekly grocery shopping to Sainsburys and thanks to the mothers of this world a bunch of white lillies ( they are my favorite, I tell you!) were being sold for an exhorbitant price.
 
So, grudgingly I made the phone call and apologised to her for my misbehaviour when she was here and asked her to overlook my faults. “That is ok, maaf kiya!” said she.
“Amma, I have been so horrible to you, are you not forgiving me a little too easily?”
 
“Don’t worry, Beta! it’s not your fault. It’s all those hormones playing havoc on you!!”, pat came her reply. Just as I was about to slam the phone down came her usual dialogue, ” when your daughter will trouble you then you will know how easy or hard it is to forgive them. I have always prayed that you have a saggitarian girl just like I have had and then you will know what the word TROUBLE really means.”
 
Sometimes, god really does answer your mother’s prayers, I tell you!
 
I recently read Jeffrey Archer’s A twist in the tale again. I have often felt that those books that you read while in growing up years tend to stick with you more than any others. Having said that I did read Arvind Adiga’s White Tiger last year. Quite a book that one is! I really liked the last line in that book, ” We drive technology forward!”
 
I took amma along for My Name is Khan whilst she was here. Boy, I tell you..My name is Mona and I am an idiot. That’s all I can say about the movie. One thing is for sure, however sensitive  the issue Karan Johar is bound to trivialise it. Speaking of idiots I saw three idiots and it really didn’t shake much earth for me either. If anything of the movies recently seen I liked Kaminey. It was quite “Tarantinised”.
 
Of late I have put on too much weight and being a south indian I think a thunderous figure is something that I think is the genetic make up of most females in all the four states. Amma does 12 cycles of suryanamaskar daily and stays extremely fit even today ( I wonder what is wrong with my parents generation. They are all so perfect. Case in point all the senior citizens of this iLand) Anyways, unfortunately I can’t do Suryanamaskar. Half the year there is no Surya in this country until after 9 and the rest of the year the Surya is out even before 0500. Both times am out of bed or in the bed.
 
So, I pushed myself to join the gym. It takes a heck of a lot of willpower to drag my “lemon on toothpick“  body onto the bike. Yesterday had a class called BLT. I thought it was only chicken BLT sandwich but apparently in fitness BLT is bums legs and tums. What a silly chick, I am. So, the lady kept asking  us to “squeeze, release” all through the exercise. I was pretty shocked at how blatanlty she was asking us to release the gases. It turns out she was talking about pelvic floor !! (cough, cough).
 
On a serious but a happy note I have always wondered if there is something called, ” A law of averages ” and does it change with every decade? What do you think? As for me the turn of this decade has been like turning a new leaf and this time I certainly do not want to screw it all up.
 
A very mish mash and a mediocre post but instead of writing something serious and well thought out I just felt like a yak…
 
Signing off for now friends….will be back with more yaketi yaketi yak…cheerios!

PS: Message for JoP: For some reason can’t read your posts, hope you will allow us to!
 
 
 

Ma’s pickles, the famous biryani, the long evenings in front of hussain sagar, the lanes of Charminar, dad’s gleaming eyes beckons…

So, see you all in six weeks time.

I have not replied to many of my friends, once am back I will try and be more active on iLand ( obviously this is for those who miss me )

Till then happy times to one and all.

Ciao friends

 "Bharat ka pehla Indian Idol kaun?? "

The tagline would shout out loud. After many weeks of scripted live drama, friendly judges  stooping down to the channel pressures for TRP ratings and making a fool of themselves on national television by engaging each other in rather demeaning and disrespectful manner, giving undeserving standing ovations at the drop of a hat, talking about X factor the minute a candidate sports a ethnic top and international brand torn jeans, a boy sporting long hair, a girl sporting short hair, tangled in piercing rings in the most enchanting of places, wrist bands, bangles jingling, everything orchestrated and rehearsed except for the singing sending the nation into a frenzy every Friday night which would in turn vote religiously to bring their favourite contestant back.

(Phew!! that was a damn long sentence, excuse my grammar there.)

Forget the singing talent, that contestant has the cutest dimple and smile, he/ she is the next Indian Idol.

Reality television arrives to stay.

 The "Mecca" moves from Marylebone to Mumbai. For a nation that religiously worships the one game that has raised a common man's dream to the zenith, it was only poetic justice that the Mecca moved our way. All this due to a man who saw the potential in television rights. If America can have NFL, Europe has EPL, Britain has its own footie clubs, India should capitalise on it's interest in cricket and so Mr M steals IPL from ICL.

Of course, playing only cricket would hardly be entertaining enough. Throw in celebrity owners, a few slaps to Sreesanth, some belly and lap dancers sans poles, a few bollywood dances, live DJs, create controversies (KKR's recent racial divide) and the TRPs but naturally rise.

It was pretty convenient that India won the first twenty-20 world cup, a win that leaves a lot for speculation. I would never know. I say convenient because one of the reasons IPL is so successful is the Twenty-20 win.

A time will surely come when Indian idols would lose people's interest. Even Shahrukh Khan's "Main hoon na" won't be able to salvage IPL.

I say this, as I believe too much of anything becomes far too predictable and boring. But, by the time the recipe becomes too stale for the audience these reality shows, cricket etc would already have made their money. They surely have nothing to lose.

As for me, my favourite reality show comes every five years, at times it has even occurred within a span of 2-3 years. Unpredictably unpredictable. A few more hours and some would bite the dust and some would rise from the ashes.  Just like monopoly the buying and selling will be reaching its' peak in the coming week. " Machhi Bazaar" is surely heating up.

Our leaders are extremely acrobatic, even more flexible are their ideologies, secular becomes communal and communal changes to secular with just a blink of an eye. Quotes become misquotes, interpretations become misinterpretations, meetings where foes become friends. If parties were selling tickets before the elections, now is the time for the small fish to ask for more meat at the centre. All doors, windows are being kept open. I wouldn't be surprised if they even begin digging walls to get in.

We might have media that does not always act responsibly but at least it kept playing the shoe saga non-stop and rogues were denied tickets. We may have to listen to the constant  harping of Barkhas and Chandras but at least we have people like Shekhar Gupta, Vinod Mehta in print journalism who call a spade a spade on their face.

We might have a urban voter who constantly cribs but shows a total indifference to exercise his right to vote but at least we still have the rural voter who believes that his vote is his one chance to exercise power.

However, I would like to believe there are still some honest leaders who have the interest of the people in their mind. At least, we still have a working democracy, leaders who do not need to succumb to the army. We have our own people making decisions for the country and even if the superpowers at the other end of the world try to exercise their muscle, at least we can stand firm and show them the door.

We, Indians work extremely hard to make our lives better. Each one of us wants to go that extra mile where his parents could not, each one of us is filled with hope for a better today, even better tomorrow and even brighter future and we consciously strive to make our lives worthy.

I think democracy is the reason why that can happen. Sure, there are issues, hopefully with time they will improve.

I would rather be a perennial optimist than possess a permanent scowl.

Wishful thinking!! Cynics would say.

Perhaps not, says the optimist in me.

PS: Another reality show is hitting us soon, I should probably say, hitting hard. After all, Miss Rakhi Sawant plans to get married and that too LIVE. What a show, I say!!

“Akka, akka…” shouted my sister while I was engrossed in some novel or the other one fine day in those teenage years.

“What’s the matter?" I whined at being disturbed.

“Didi, next week there is an elocution contest in the school about "Man and his environment” and I have given my name as one of the participants."

 I was certainly amused when I heard that my sister had decided to enrol herself in a contest. The reason, I say, I was amused is because I knew full well that my kid sister had major issues with writing anything longer than 3 sentences. Nevertheless, I encouraged her and said that she should go for it, little realising that I was digging my own grave (something that I always seem to do).

"Ok, didi, so how many days will you need to finish writing about Man and his environment?” she asked me in a tone as cool as a cucumber.

Needless to say I was surprised, now even the book in my hand could hardly hold my attention.

“What do you mean? Why should I write? You are the one who gave your name so you go ahead and write, if you want I can make some amendments and suggestions "I offered.

"Please, please akka you write and I will mug it with apt feel and right pauses and vomit it out on the stage and trust me the prize is mine.”

After much cajoling by her and a promise that she would buy me a treat and another novel I reluctantly agreed.

So, I did write about the Man and his environment and my sister did go and speak on the stage and delightfully I say, she did receive the first prize.

What amazed me was her confidence, as although I would often write for others I myself never had the courage to participate. Public speaking isn’t my forte. I even forgot my speech once half way through and till date I panic whilst speaking in public.

However, ask me to write about anything anytime and I would be happy with that.

I am a bit of a story teller and I owe most of it to my parents. From the time I could remember dinner time was the occasion for interesting conversations and often my parents would regale the tales of the extraordinary moments in the ordinary lives of people around us.

Their pastime rubbed off on us siblings too and I tried my hand at writing.

The reason for these recollections, I turn a year old on iLand today. And what a year it has been!! I began writing to amuse myself and in the process I probably have amused some others too.

I have made a few great friends here, many acquaintances and possibly some enemies too. A year long stint probably warrants that.

I am touched by the affection that I and my posts have garnered with my friends. I guess it is this fondness that makes us probably want to write more.

Of late, a lot of the people I associated with a lot seem to be easing out of iLand slowly and that certainly is the reason for my not being so regular in the blog world too.

However, we all are bound by a common thread and  that is the need to express and as long as that want is there, we will keep coming  back to pen something or the other.

There are certain issues that are not so positive about iLand but I guess with time like everyone else even I have learnt to sieve the trash and acknowledge the good.

All in all it has been one enriching journey so far.

That's all from "winds of change "for now…more some other time.

Till then, happy times to one and all.

She could hear the suppressed giggles, the constant whisperings. A turn of her head and it would be stunned silence. As she would pour herself again, back into work, the hushed tones would resurface. She adored these people, that is why she had taken her first ever steps here. The multifariousness of her work had made her quite a darling, a rage within months of commencement. They liked her too, each with a different intensity and depth. She too invested heavily emotionally returning each one’s affection sincerely and unabashedly. Life, surely was invigorating. 
 
One  day she arrived late at work. One look at her face and hand and they were shocked.Their kindness overwhelmed her. It was hot steam from the kettle, she told them. Tears welled up in her eyes, yet the smile persisted. An irregular burn just near her left cheek had spoiled the impeccable and unblemished face. She concealed the pain, the visible scar remained.
 
Time flew. She had now become a regular. More mishaps took place. A bruise here, a cut there. She was so accident prone, she would giggle and tell all. They agreed. Although people were still in awe, they gave her affection very hesitantly. They took more than they would give willingly. A constant battle to give her and within her.
 
They would sympathise and say they empathised but she felt the restraint, the stinginess in the reciprocation. Their face often looked sad however their eyes betrayed the glint and gleam. She was no more the perfect one. She was not invincible anymore. Her affection, kindness, intelligence, simplicity did not matter. She had given herself away. She had entered a cesspool of trouble by confiding and considering them her own. They secretly took delight in her fall from heights.
 
Whether it was intentional or her own mind playing dirty tricks, she surely felt things were not the same.
 
She knew. Yet, she immersed herself in the only world she knew.