tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48928752393654113282024-02-21T00:38:02.175-08:00Perception“If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is - infinite”- William BlakePerceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-69993428714699292112016-11-13T14:08:00.000-08:002016-11-13T14:24:52.831-08:00Swayamwar and plea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been so long that I have been away from this blog. So many occasions of writing came by and sped past. I have missed writing. I am missed sharing with you all my friends and above all I have missed finishing Swayamwar. I had this lingering feeling of writing a book for a long time. But I lack the skill of doing so. I lack the fine penmanship, the talent to weave words in to a fascinating mystery that binds the reader to their seat. But I have decided to attempt it. I need your help if at all I ever want to finish this story. For this I am starting the Swayamwar blog. This blog isn't for publicizing, but rather for feedback. I need you all my dear friends to provide feedback. You have encouraged me every step of this blog. I have disappointed you often. Not writing. Not sharing a word for days and months on end. But then again, we are writers, all of us. We know the ups and downs, the cliched writers block. Consider me being in one for the longest. I am hoping I see some of your feedback on the other blog and by that I would know you have forgiven me and granted my plea to join me in the journey of finishing this story.
Here is the Swayamwar Blog: https://swayamwar.wordpress.com/
I am not abandoning this blog. Even if I wanted to I couldn't. But this will remain the blog it's meant to be, of moments and memories, of laughter and observations. Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-53601837120274713952011-09-06T22:53:00.000-07:002011-09-06T23:03:52.250-07:00Swayamwar-Part2If you haven't read <a href="http://voraciousreaders.blogspot.com/2011/08/swayamwar.html">Part1</a> then this story would make no sense to you.<br /><br />Rajkumari kept looking at her toes as mantris described each charming prince. Her heart was pounding to hear just one name- Prithviraj. Each time with each next prince her heart fluttered a little bit and yet after 9 princes Prithviraj’s name was not announced. Rajkumari started wondering whether Prithviraj had even arrived or decided to attend. Finally the 10th prince was announced. <br /><br />Suno suno lokvasiyo (listen all you great warriors)! Standing in front of you is the ambitious, most graceful, humble ruler of Magadh. Known for conquering the world he stands 6 feet tall. His praja (people) call him their savior, his enemies call him raw fear. Dressed in white and adorned by pearls- Raja Prithviraj. <br /><br />Rajkumari immediately raised her eyes and in that instant met Prithviraj’s eyes. Ah! She said. He gave her the brightest smile in the world. She wasn’t supposed to look, but yet she did. For that moment the entire court paused. It was him and her. She was pulled out of this charm by the sound of a drum indicating the commencement of the competition. Prithviraj turned around and started walking towards the stadium. He was strong built and walked tall. Dressed in white he spilled aura around himself. Rajkumari kept staring at him. Hoping against hope for that one last look. Just as he was about to enter the arena, he turned and smiled at her again. She knew it then, that it would be him or no one. This was what her heart said, but being the individual she was, she immediately warned her heart and asked it to be practical. It wasn’t about the grace, nor the charm. It wasn’t about what her resources had told her. She wanted to know for herself if Prithviraj was intellectually compatible and how emotionally involved he would be. A man who won so many wars, who achieved so many victories, would he be able to bend his ego once in a while? Would he be able to discuss strategies and accept if she gave him a better solution that what he had? Would he accept her going on a war instead of going Sati? So many questions, but how could and would she get the answers to them. She had to think of something quickly, very quickly before the final ceremony. She kept thinking of some solution, but none came to her mind. Suddenly Rajkumari heard Dwarka’s voice, who was telling her for a while to walk to the arena throne. She got up and slowly walked toward the viewing area. The seating area was located very high and allowed viewing of entire area. The audience was cheering, the place sparking with energy. The first two princes engaged in a chariot race. The winner would continue to progress to the next round. Loser would leave the arena. The competition was about speed, skill of handling animals, balance and concentration. The prince would need a good pair of horses, most trusted ones. He would spend time going to the stable, taking care of these animals and winning their trust. It was one of the skils Rajkumari was looking for as well. The competition between first two princes went straight forward, winner was clear. Such went the other players, till Prithviraj arrived. His chariot was strong built. White horses tied to the golden chariot. He looked like Arjuna from Mahabharata standing in his chariot. Confidence sparked around him. Rajkumar Hiram was next to him on a chariot of black horses. He looked equally graceful but it was in the previous race that he had ruthlessly pushed the other prince out of his tracks. These kinds of things were common at Swayamwar. Rajkumari watched impatiently as the signal for race was given. Prithviraj’s horses quickly gained the lead. As they reached the midpoint of the track, suddenly Rajkumar Hiram’s chariot sped and dashed against Prithviraj’s causing Prithviraj to lose his balance for a moment. Suddenly Prithviraj turned to look at Hiram. His expression was changed to that of anger. His horses seem to understand his language and immediately changed tracks. Rajkumari shifted in her chair restless. It was in that moment she saw him put his right hand on his sword. She gasped. She knew what he was about to do and feared it might disqualify him. His horses didn’t need much control, it seemed like they understood the slightest nudge he gave them. Again Hiram’s chariot approached from the right and was about to dash against Prithviraj’s chariot, at that very moment Prithviraj slowed down and Hiram raced completely out of the track. It took him ten minutes to get back on the track and back in the race; in the meantime Prithviraj had gained enough ground and crossed over the finish line. Rajkumari gave a sigh of relief. But her mind raced. Why did Prithviraj hold his sword? Could he kill to win this competition? Was it winning that mattered to him or was it the anger against injustice and cheating? In either case she needed to know more about him. How would she? The next competition was that of focus and concentration, skill with bow and arrow. <br /><br />To be continued...Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-71677585201111602562011-08-24T17:24:00.000-07:002011-08-25T10:11:27.040-07:00SwayamwarFor the longest time I have wanted to write these little fictional stories, these stories I would think of either while travelling on bus or just walking down the block. I would take the time to even write them on the word doc and then would delete the document without saving. This is so stupid, I would say to myself. No one is going to like this or even read this. But then today I decided, well what the heck. Let me just list out this one story and see how it goes. Like I said in my earlier post, I have too many cobwebs to clean around this blog :). So let me take you on another journey, something different from our day to day lives and yet a part of it. Let’s travel to the good old days of maharaja’s and rajputs. Of kingdoms and wars. Of bravery, strategy, romance and victory. Excited?
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<br /><em>Rajkumari Shrutkirti was sitting in front of the mirror admiring herself while all around dasis were giggling and making fun of her. Dwarka was lovingly teing her plait while Menaka was putting payal on her feet. The latest design from Sriman Kevat, who claimed this was the same payal ordered by Rajkumari Mandavi of Bundi. Rajkumari Shrutkirti admired her feet, the beautiful payal with artistic design adorned her lovely feet and shined against her milk white skin. The pearls attached to the payal made it even more beautiful. She stomped her feet lightly on the ground and little sounds made all the dasis around laugh. This was a big day for Rajkumari Shrutkirti. It was her Swayamwar. She has dreamt over and over of this day. Painted pictures of various rajkumar’s were laid out in front of her. These she had received 1 month ago. Being the youngest and the only daughter of Raja Mansingh, she had the right to choose, rather she had wickedly achieved it by displaying crocodile tears and weaving stories around “Banno ki shaadi songs”. Mansingh has given in and sent messengers/riders to neighboring kingdoms (near and far) requesting painted pictures of grooms interested in the Swayamwar. The paintings were of all shapes and kinds, some ridiculously good to be true and some looked as if the kingdom may be on the verge of losing its last possible painter. Rajkumari, however relied very less on these paintings and more on the inside information she obtained via her appointed ally’s in various divisions of the kingdom. There was the finance minister who informed of wealth and health of various kingdoms. The head of all natya, gayan and kala (music and arts) who informed of the latest architectural improvements or activities around various kingdoms. The war strategist who spoke to the bravery and skills in various victories. So overall she had a pretty good idea and had shortlisted the top 5 potential princes she would consider. Ofcourse there would be day long contests among the princes to prove their skills (archery, swordfighting, hunting and what not). But Rajkumari hardly cared about those. She was more interested in finding the right diamond in the mix, one who would be politically powerful and emotionally compatible. Prithviraj, that was the one she had in mind. One who has conquered many kingdoms, showed mercy to even his worst enemies, spent time listening to the pleas of his people even at 2.00 am in the morning. He was the one , she knew it. So when the day of Swayamwar arrived, she wanted to look her best. From head to toe she was decorated in gold. She picked white, that was her color. White beautiful saree and gold jewelry to match it- the kamabandh (waist band), arm band, beautiful pearl earrings, pearl nose ring. She had heard, Prithviraj was fond of pearls. He had adorned his own crown with pearls. So pearls were for her.
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<br />Finally Raja Mansingh entered the room and stood there. Dasis quickly disappeared without a sound. Mansingh walked up to his daughter and held her face in both his hands. Beautiful! He exclaimed. How will this kingdom ever remain the same without you? It’s time Rajkumari, lets walk to the mandal (open hall). Though her eyes were filled with tears, inwardly she smiled. It was the day she would finally meet Prithviraj. She quietly walked with her father and sat on the throne next to him. Her eyes fixed on her feet. Princes from states far and near had come to attend the swayamwar. Talks of Rajkumari’s beauty was spread far and wide. Rajkumari only hoped Prithviraj would be there. She knew she wasn’t supposed to look up, but bold as she was, she did. There was queue of princes and she could only see that far. Each prince was supposed to step forward, one of his assistant (mantri ) would describe his valor and he would step aside for the next prince. </em>
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<br />Woah! This is turning out to be a really long post. How about you tell me how you like it and then we continue with the rest of Swayamwar? :)Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-56349729997032850242011-08-22T15:15:00.001-07:002012-04-03T21:41:45.884-07:00Estate Sale- Everything must go!I have gone into the shell, in hiding from the world. I have wandered, explored new places. I have learnt, taught and returned. In the meantime my blog sat here gathering dust. Now I have the massive work of cleaning up cobwebs, sweeping, polishing and making it current. I may or may not succeed in this effort but I’ll try.<br /><br />Where do I start- ah yes something that reminded me of blogging, of sharing- Garage Sale!<br /><br />Oh yes, the good old sign “9 AM to 12 PM- this Friday- come one- come all”. This has been my latest addiction. I wander to Garage Sales or to be more specific Estate Sales. The difference between the 2:<br /><br /><strong>Garage Sale:</strong> Lot of times stuff that families don’t want, or rather think they don’t want. It occupies space, has very less emotional value and can be sold or traded.<br /><br /><strong>Estate Sale:</strong> The person owning the estate has passed away, next generation remaining is getting rid of the stuff- of everything- memories, material stuff, the house itself. Everything has to go!<br /><br />I know it kinda sounds sad. Why go to an estate sale you may ask? I wandered to one of those about a month ago and found it fascinating. Journey with me, will you?<br /><br /><strong>Estate Sale! Come one- come all! 9 AM to 5 PM. Antiques, Glassware, Expensive stuff. Everything must go!</strong><br /><br /><em>I note down the address and detour to the Estate Sale. Couple of estate sale professionals are at the door. A pleasant lady with a counter (to collect cash/card) is in the garage. They all have pleasant smiles. They all welcome me in. I take the first step in the house. House or Home, I think. I think of things I associate with a home. Smells that are unique to an home. This one doesn’t have any. Just of dust and closed doors. Of cobwebs and old furniture. I step inside. There is staircase going down and one going up. I think for a bit on which one to take. People are flocking, some running upstairs, some downstairs. As they run, the wooden staircase makes a creaking sound. I think back to my own home, the creaks, and the sounds. I know them all. Did the person who lived here know them too? <br /><br />I randomly pick going upstairs; the stairs lead to an open hall. The room is lit with light. There are curtains on the window, the self-created kind. Very artistic. Someone in this family knew sewing very well. Just as I begin to admire the curtain, someone pushes past me and pulls on to one curtain. In a harsh voice the lady asks, “Is this for sale?, how much?”. My expression changes to that of pain. Pleasant lady answers “Yes ma’am, everything is for sale”. I didn’t want to buy the curtains, but just the sheer act of not stopping to admire the curtain, treating it like any other stuff pains me. I move on. <br /><br />There is jewelry laid out on the table, everything tagged with a price. I immediately touch the ring on my little finger with my thumb:<br /><br />The ring on the right hand little finger with the green stone: Mum said always wear it. It will keep you smart. I smile at myself, it didn’t really.<br /><br /></em><em>The ring on my index finger, it pearl: It will keep you calm Mum had said. I started to believe it did. Years passed and I kept it. Now its sealed to my finger.<br /><br />Chain: The first piece of jewelry mum made for me, when I was a kid. <br /><br />I watch the jewelry laid out on the table. There is a ring in a blue jewelry box. Was it an engagement ring? Maybe wedding ring? Someone stops by and picks up the ring box. Is this real?, she asks. Yes, says the pleasant lady. How much? She asks. Let me check, says the pleasant lady. Never mind, she says. I don’t like the design anyways, she says. I walk away.</em><br /><br /><em>I wander into the kitchen. She is here, I can feel her, I can sense her. The spice rack in the corner is filled with spices. The crystal bowls are arranged, clean in corner. Cake makers are a plenty, worn out, used far too many times. She loved cooking. I touch the spice rack, an old piece with 25 glass spice containers, beautiful. Wooden box holding them. Hung on the wall, just on the right spot. I touch it and dust sticks to my fingers. I look and smile. I want this one, I tell one of the estate sale professionals. Can you help me remove it from the wall? I ask. Yes, ma’am, let me get it for you. The guy holds the rack and pulls on it. My eyes widen in shock. He breaks the wood hook holding the rack and hands the rack to me. Here you go ma’am. I hold it as if it were a baby, hug the rack and growl at the professional. I walk away. </em><br /><br /><em>Angry and hurt I walk into the bedroom. Why am I angry? What’s bothering me, I ask myself. No answer. I look at the queen size bed, wooden frame, ancient looking, beautiful. Across it is a dresser and mirror. Beautiful. There is jewelry box, wooden, empty on the dresser. There is brush on the dresser. I walk to the dresser and look at myself in the mirror holding the spice rack. I see a faint shadow behind me. I turn, there is just bright light, no one there. I touch the jewelry box. Engraved is a design on the top. Little wooden drawers to keep beautiful jewelry. I love it. Its beautiful I say out loud, not to anyone in particular. I look at the brush, it’s pretty, silver and has one hair, white, long, stuck in the needles. I touch the hair and hear loud noise of kids. Lady and 4 kids. Kids climb the bed and start jumping. I pick the jewelry box and leave. </em><br /><br /><em>I don’t feel like checking out any other rooms. I go downstairs, there is a nice cozy wooden rocking chair. A knitted shawl hanging on one of its arms. Settled next to it is a huge basket with lots of wool and needles. There are patterns and works in progress. I stop by to look at the basket. Pleasant lady approaches, smiles at me and says “Take all for just $5”. I look up at her and smile. I will, I say. I ask her to set it aside for me. I walk into the garage and immediately smile. There is a santa-big porcelain structure, decorations, large chritmas tree, beautiful decorations to hang on the tree. Yes, I say to myself. This was a house of memories, of turkey dinners, of get-togethers, of graduation, of first car rides, of proms, of dreams..this is a home.<br /><br />I take all the stuff I picked to the counter and pay. I walk away and just as I get to my car, I turn to look. I see the house spick and span. I see the flowers blooming, I see kids playing. I see it all, I see the home it was. I see the home it will be.</em>Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-81916027566176570422011-01-13T20:05:00.000-08:002011-01-23T14:28:09.155-08:002010 is gone? Already?It’s weird, I visited many blogs and yet very few which talk about 2010. I don’t know if you agree or not but 2010 was just ridiculously fast, it was really in a hurry and didn’t even wait for a single breath. This made me curious as to what all happened during 2010, I surfed the net and found tons of events, so I shortlisted them from what I remembered happened during 2010.<br /><br />1. Earthquake devastates Haiti<br />Surprised at how many natural calamities strike earth each year, we are really testing the tolerance limit of our planet, aren’t we? It’s high time we drop some irrelevant research and invest in finding planets we can move people to, that would certainly make earth happy. <br /><br />2. BP Oil Rig explodes off Louisiana gulf coast<br />All I remember was reading and watching this news for several days, especially the picture of leaking oil and felt bad for the poor fish, they must hate us. I can imagine them discussing:<br />Shark: Grrrr we have been too tolerant, the next time I swim by the coast to watch little kids building sand castles (sooo cute), I am totally throwing up some fish guts on someone<br /><br />Pufferfish: (puffing away) What is that black stuff and what do humans do with it, its just causing me to puff even more<br /><br />Shoal of herring: Cool, lets imitate this black thing and confuse the predators. I kind of like this stuff, though its making me sick now.<br /><br />Though I am making fun of this event, it was kind of sad.<br /><br />3. Supreme Court overturns ban on direct corporate spending on elections <br />Always wondered how politicians here could manage to run such great advertisements and campaigns on television where as in India you would find some people hanging out of a rickshaw with loudspeakers during all odd times of days and advertising:<br />“Jeet hogi jhadu ki, vote ki nishani jhadu”<br /><br />4. Rescue of Chilean Miners<br />The first Chilean miner rescued was exciting but watching all 33, every single one of them. Don’t get me wrong I was completely impressed at technology. But really 24 hours of watching chilean miner arriving one after another was really boring, meaning after first few rescued guys I was pretty sure, rest would arrive quite safely. But hubby dear wanted to see the entire thing, apparently it’s kind of historic. <br /><br />5. Toyota Recall<br />Changed my attitude towards Toyota, wonder if I would buy that car now. Possibly every part of that car could potentially be recalled.<br /><br />6. Ash Cloud from Iceland Volcano Shuts Down European Air Travel<br />Lots and lots of people were stuck at the airport and it was quite a nuisance. But somewhere I really wanted to see the whole ash thing.<br /><br />7. The 2010 Winter Olympics are held in Vancouver and Whistler, Canada.<br />This was the first time I thought I truly enjoyed and watched Winter Olympics. Maybe being so near to Canada was one of the reasons. Btw, I watched it on tv not in person.<br /><br />8. XIX Commonwealth Games, were held in Delhi, India, from 3 to 14 October 2010<br />After all the caos and nonsense finally the Commonwealth games took place and in the end it all wasn’t so bad. Just like all events, we created a lot of negative advertising for the event.<br /><br />That was glimpse of 2010, the year went fast and I think 2011 is moving even faster. <br /><br />So what do you think will happen in 2011:<br />- Islands shifting, new emerging<br />- China finally taking over the world<br />- US economy getting back on its feet<br />- Mystical creature spotted somewhere<br />- We find life on some planet<br />- Planes travel faster than ever (in 3hrs to India)<br /><br />Edited (thought of one more list entry)<br /><br />- Device will be built combining all possible technologies (kinect, iphone so on). This device will recognise you, change into a phone, computer, tv (changes size), will recognize your emotion and talk to you.<br /><br />This is a random list and not much thought is given when building it. Feel free to chip in and add.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-61998124007325856432010-12-31T13:23:00.000-08:002010-12-31T13:29:41.027-08:00Cooking and RecipesEvery week I search on internet for recipes. Am I a good cook, do I like cooking? Well, no and no to both. I am an ok cook but a fervent eater, who loves new recipes and in general eating yummy food, be it traditional homemade or all fancy culinary stuff. So I visit all these traditional recipe sites and then go to my kitchen and pretend that I am participating in Top Chef or something. Trust me for a person like me who has to find some means to motivate and go to kitchen, this works. Just this week, I tried making tortellini pasta. Nope not from scratch, you get these tortellini pasta packets in Costco. Ok ok that’s not much of cooking, but still is something , no? I love pasta and atleast once a week we have it. <br /><br />I keep a pot of boiling water, how much water, well I have this big pot, I simply fill it up and put it on the stove. There is no logic, no thought. I feel it would hold one packet of tortellini pasta and that’s it. Then I put a pan on another stove, this is for the sauce. And a third pot to blanche the tomatoes. About 6-7 tomatoes. That’s how many I would need to some sort of sauce to show up on the plate. Now in most of the Indian cooking, there is gravy. We like a lot of gravy, and spices, so when cooking pasta I try to recreate the same experience, only using Italian ingredients. I let both pots with water come to boil, for the pasta pot I add some salt (again, how much you ask?, tilt the salt holder and think of not pouring too much, that’s how much :)) and to the tomato pot, I just drop the tomatoes and turn off the burner.<br /> <br />Oops forgot about the pan, its red hot and I need to start putting stuff in it. So I reduce the heat, turn the burner to like 1 or really low. I cut some shallots about 3-4 (if they are small). Then I squish about 4 cloves of garlic, yep love garlic. Why squish? I think the taste stays intact and I hate removing skins and all neatly. And there is a kind of pleasure you would get, to keep the knife horizontal on the garlic clove and stomp it with your fist. Then hold the tail end of the garlic and the skin just comes off. And somewhere you feel a pride of saving few seconds of tedious clove peeling:). Now turn the pan stove to medium, put some olive oil. How much? Till you don’t feel guilty, the moment oops this is a little too much comes to mind, stop that very instant. Immediately you will feel, ahh that looks okie. Put in the garlic cloves and watch them turn brown. Add the shallots and let them turn soft, slightly golden. In the meantime drain the water from the tomatoes. Take 6 mushrooms, any type and cut them into pieces, any size you like. They shrink so don’t think too much. You don’t need to be precise or neat either, be fast though. As soon as the shallots turn golden, you would want to drop these in the pan. So drop them in the pan. Turn gas to high and let them cook well, shrink in size. Drain the water from the tomato pot. Now the tomatoes will still be steaming hot, so add some cold water. And then take each tomato, peel the skin and cut them. The juices will come out on the cutting board and there would only be enough space to cut 2 at a time. So start cutting the tomatoes when you see the mushrooms are almost done. <br /><br />Now if you are me, you have forgotten about the tortellini pasta which is cooking and its when the water steams off and falls creating a sizzling noise, will you know the pasta was cooking. So go to the pasta, dig one of them with a fork. If it looks cooked that’s good. Just turn off the gas. I don’t like to drain the water then, just coz the pasta sticks together. Go back to the cutting board and add the tomatoes to the pan. Remember all the skin you peeled, cut that too. Add it to the pan. Now the spices, if you have any cooking wine or any wine at all, just add a little bit to the pan. It removes all the nice flavors that were stuck to the pan and the alcohol cooks away. Open a can of black olives, cut in half and add them. Add parsley, italain seasonsing (you get this at fredmeyer or any store really), add 1 spoon honey (this is the exotic ingredient I like to add), add basil, salt, pepper. Now 2 more spices I add from time to time are fresh cut dill and red chili powder (just to give it a degree of hot taste). Add about 2-3 spoons of low fat sour cream. This gives you the gravy. Add salt and taste. If it’s good for you, it’s good for anyone :). Drain the water from tortellini, add them to the sauce, mix well and serve. <br /><br /> Well I think I did well in this top chef episode, do you? Have a great time tyring some new recipes and eat some great food during 2011.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-31733646776307848032010-12-17T19:38:00.001-08:002012-04-03T21:55:12.424-07:00Secret-Always hard to keepWhen you are told to keep a secret what do you do? Do you have this urge of telling the first person you see, whether you know the person or not? Do you share it with your mom who explains how it’s absolutely disastrous to share a secret and then goes on and on about how it’s a sin you told her, now that she too has to keep it a secret? Do you tell your dad, who if like mine totally finds it uninteresting and lame. Dude it’s a secret, get it. Someone somewhere doesn’t want it to be shared with anyone. Itsss aaa secretttt shhhh. But well, that’s what men do, don’t they? They don’t have secrets, there are no boundaries of what to say or not say when having conversations. Keep our wife, family and kids topics out and there will be no secrets. Also, when you can talk hours and hours about politics, money market and cricket, why would you need any other complicated topics which lead to secrets.<br /><br />So what do I do when someone tells me to hear them out and then just shut up? Not a word to anyone. Not even a single syllable. Well, I feel as if I have a knot in my stomach. Now if the person had never told me explicitly that it's a secret, I wouldn’t care less. But now after pointing out not to tell, how do I seriously not tell? Don’t get me wrong, I am not the kind of friend who would go share secrets, but this is just an urge of telling someone. Just a little bit you know. And like all good women, I have managed to kill, stab and poke this urge out of my system everytime. But then what’s the harm if you share it with your mom who is like seven seas away and has no remote connection to this so called person whatsoever right?<br /><br />Ma: <em>(after sharing pleasantries)</em> What else, I hate these long pauses you know…there is so much going on here and I am holding the phone all the time. <em>Bai, tum kal aaogi na (Ma talking simultaneously to the maid servant</em>) <br /><br />Me: So remembers that person at my office <em>(let’s call him Obi-Wan Kenobi). </em><em>Why this name is another story for some other time.</em> Obi-Wan told me about blah and blah and didn’t want me to tell anyone.<br /><br />Ma: What is this? Why did you tell me? Now what do I do with this? You know when it's told not to tell you should not tell. Now how weird will I feel when talking to Geeta masi, Sita masi, Bai and those women who meet me everyday when taking evening walks.<br /><br />Me: WHAT? Why should they care? And how does this relate in any way to them Ma?<br /><br />Ma: Well, how did it relate to me?<br /><br />Me: Ma, you are my mom and I can share stuff with you about a person you remotely know. Doesn’t mean you should go tell half the world about it.<br /><br />Ma: Half the world, you call this half the world. I am not even telling Sangita masi (our neighbor), Bai II (our other less favorite bai), some mrs x, mrs y, mrs z (women I don’t even know). And they too don’t know this person and don’t say this to anyone but I don’t think they would even visit USA. And don’t mention this to anyone because they certainly think they will.<br /><br />Me: <em>(What kind of weird information is that, why would I tell someone this)</em> But still you don’t need to tell them. I should have never told you. I take my words back, you never heard about it.<br /><br />Ma: I maybe old but I am not so old that you just tell me to forget something and I forget. This is a good lesson for you, now you will remember not to tell anyone.<br /><br />Me: Ofcourse it’s a lesson, but I don’t need to learn it the hard way, do I? Ma, can you just forget this entire topic, pleaaaaaaaase.<br /><br />Ma: I cannot just forget. Ok maybe just Sangita masi <em>(who by the way would definitely tell half the world)</em><br /><br />Me: O dear god. How do I convince you not to say a word to anyone? Where is dad, maybe I should just tell him this.<br /><br />Ma: What do you mean tell dad, what has he to do with this. <em>(Other phone rings</em>) Hold on now, I need to clear this with you.<br /><br /><em>Background chatter- Ma talking to someone</em><br /><em>Ah Sangita, tell tell. Yes yes, I know her. Your sister’s husband’s cousin right? Yes yes, tell. Oh, getting married, when? Such good news. Not a news? Why? Oh, they haven’t told anyone yet? I see, ofcourse ofcourse. No no, I won’t mention. But what a nice news, ahh sorry not news. Ok ok, talk to you some other time.</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>(totally exicited) </em>Listen listen Sangita had just called so and so is getting married. How nice no? <br /><br />Me: Didn’t Sangita tell you, its not NEWS and don’t share?<br /><br />Ma: Ofcourse she did, but I bet she is already calling half the world and who are you going to tell, you don’t even know these people.<br /><br />Me: And about what I said earlier?<br /><br />Ma: You? What did you say? Yeah, you did tell me some lame story, but it was totally boring. I don’t even remember it now. And I have ten thousand things to do. Call me tomorrow ok?<br /><br />Me: Ok (yay!) <br /><br />And just like that she forgot and kept my secret a secret. How nice it is, when you can share something with someone who you know would absolutely forget it after listening hehehe.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-41767412578267907652010-10-21T17:14:00.000-07:002010-10-22T14:41:26.377-07:00Elevator rideEvery day I get into the elevator at work at the lowest level, garage if you may. There is hardly one other person or no one who takes the elevator from there. I get off at level 3. So basically its not a very long ride, just parking 1, parking 2, ground, 1st and 2nd. Yet everyday when I get into the elevator, I hope it doesn’t stop anywhere before the 3rd floor. Why is that you ask? Well, its just uncomfortable, <br /> <br />Bunch of strangers, who are not really strangers since they work at the same company as you and you often see them once in like 6 months maybe. They get into the elevator. <br /><br />Every stop the elevator makes, it challenges the weight bearing and space capacity of the elevator. Even if there is no more space, there is at least one person trying to squeeze in. <br /><br />There is at least one person riding the elevator who is bathed in coffee. Don’t get me wrong, I do like coffee but not so much as to sit in a bath tub filled with coffee so I smell of it all day long.<br /><br />Everyone waits in awkward silence. Not knowing or understanding what to do. Some stare at the roof, some at their shoes, some just keep moving 2 paces here and there, some keep pulling up their handbags or backpacks, some keenly stare at their car keys and some pretend to love the music they are listening to. <br /><br />You have to be nice to people, they work in the same building as you do and though you may never run into them again, you never know right?. It could be another awkward ride to the 18th floor or something some other day.<br /><br />Then there are those who ought to bring food or soda or vitamin water or tea or coffee or eat noodles (no kidding) while in the elevator. Don’t ask why, its as if this whole 2 min or less elevator ride is just too much time to waste, so I better eat. Or I maybe taking this elevator ride to the draught stricken 23rd floor, I ought to carry food.<br /><br />And then there are those chatty ones. Those nice, smiling, i-am-so-happy-too-bad-your-life-sucks kinda people, who need to talk to you. Like:<br /><br /><em>Stranger1 (very chirpy):</em> Hiiii, morning, how are you doing today? <em>(this dude obviously has his adrenaline soaring up, what is he so happy about?)</em><br /><br /><em>Stranger2:</em> Hi <em>(lazily,obviously I am not interested in what nonsense you have to say. Rude but dude please its 9 am and I just woke up)</em><br /><br /><em>Me:</em> Ahem, yeah huh hi<br /><br /><em>Stranger1:</em> The weather today is quite nice, isn’t it?<br /><br /><em>Stranger2:</em> Hmm <em>(Like I care, dude take a hint)</em><br /><br /><em>Me:</em> Yeah, its good <em>(when will this damm elevator stop, I need to get out NOW)</em><br /><br /><em>Stranger1:</em> Tully’s downstairs, good coffee. Did you try?<br /><br /><em>Stranger2:</em> I don’t drink coffee<br /><br />Me: I guess <em>(thinking, obviously you would know, you had 20 cups probably)</em> and smiling (Coz my floor arrived)<br /><br />There are those who wear weird tight cycling shots, cycling helmet and enter the elevator all sweating. I mean I respect the fact that mr cycling dude cares about the environment and his own health. But those tight shorts, really? And why do they come in such fancy bright colors.<br /><br />And then those who enter the elevator as a group (do they actually wait for their buddies before entering the elevator), coz they just start talking, loudly and laughing. This make me curl in a ball and roll out of the elevator. <br /><br />Well there are so many more types I come across everyday and think how uncomfortable the elevator ride is really. I pretend daily to be no one , don’t exist, don’t look at me, I am not here kind of person when entering and leaving the elevator. Do you feel the same or its some weird chronic condition I have?Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-35477344257079024902010-10-17T21:47:00.000-07:002010-10-17T21:51:28.608-07:00Monkey huh!Commonwealth games brought a lot of attention to India, good or bad it was publicity. Especially for some of our politicians. I came across this video today and couldnt stop laughing. I had to share it with all of you.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/c6YXQyjz7BA?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c6YXQyjz7BA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Is it so hard to say.. umm can you repeat that question for me again, I didnt get it?Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-63186418802523627422010-09-25T20:05:00.001-07:002010-09-25T20:10:57.406-07:00I ask myselfAs I am walking ahead in this journey of life, sometimes I pause just a little, turn around and observe the course of actions that have happened. We all do this perhaps, more as we grow older. Thinking of if things could be different, or if they would be what would they be like. <br /><br />Silly days of school and friends you thought back then would be friends for life, but now you dont know where they are and what they do. <br /><br />Your definition of career, when you first understood what career meant and how it shaped into something totally different<br /><br />Those good old times when your heart would flutter at slightest smile. <br /><br />Why does life become serious as we grow? Why do we not feel the excitement in stupidest of things? What is it that we need to hold on to, to keep that child alive in us?Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-27166152203380913862010-07-06T12:47:00.000-07:002011-01-01T10:57:18.407-08:00Guess who is visiting from India?My home these days is filled with people. Typical scenes you would instantly notice at home now are hot tea/coffee brewing multiple times during the day, and never ending gossips replacing the usual quite and tv volume. It feels like a mini India. Indian politics and cricket conversations happen to be the main theme of conversations. Any ideas why? You all may have already guessed it, Mom dear is here :). She and her questions keep me smiling all day. I wish I could trap this time and then travel back whenever I want.<br /><br />I have been busy just absorbing all the gossips, energy that I haven’t really had the time to write. But then its one of those things, you visit your blog to read your blogging world’s friends posts and there you find a comment sitting starring at you. One of your blogging friend pings you to ask how you have been and why not writing? Thanks <a href="http://pastel-moods.blogspot.com/">Neeraja</a> for still wanting to read my posts. <br /><br />So over the long weekend we drove 900 miles to visit this one place. Place is not important, what’s important is the journey to get there. Mommy was sitting in the front passenger seat and I was driving. Our conversations were hilarious or so I think, would love to know what you all think:<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> “Slow slow slow” what is wrong with this people. Areyyy, look how fast that truck wala is driving, are there no rules here?<br /><br />Me: Ma, shhh they are driving at 60 miles/hr and that’s the speed limit here. Truck wala is driving perfectly fine. Calm down now<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> What! you think we don’t drive at 60 kms in India, we do that ok. And if truck wala is driving properly why are you not, look at your speed must be really high, that lights wala police will come and catch you, you see now. And why drive so close to the truck, go to that first lane and drive there, see no cars there.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Ma I cant magically just change lanes no? I need to watch the traffic. And 60 miles/hr is more than 60 kms. Anywho why are you paying attention to the traffic, look at the beautiful scenery around, see the lake, the trees.<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> Yeah yeah, that only I am seeing since last 2 hours, when will we get to that place you told us. Same road you are driving since last 2 hours. Have you missed a turn or something and why is that women not talking (by women she meant the gps)<br /><br />Me: We are on the freeway, the roads would all look the same only Ma. And the women talks when there road is about to change. If we have to keep going straight why should she tell us again and again?<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> And why does she have this weird accent. Can she translate, like hindi or something? “Kuch der main aap right le lo, 400th Exit”<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Hahhahaha, hindi eh? Ok I will let the Garmin company know hahahah. (We then took exit onto an internal scenic road and Ma saw a deer)<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> Look look, deer (totally excited). Stop stop lets take some photos, I need to tell everyone I saw a deer. Arey stop no. Poor deer she has no forest only left maybe so she is coming on the road. <br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> I cannot stop Ma, there is traffic behind, we can’t take pictures like this and you can still tell everyone why do you need photo for that. All this land is protected, its national forest Ma. Deer’s have enough land, in fact they are nuisance sometimes. This deer may simply be crossing the road.<br /><br /><strong>Ma:</strong> How did they build this road? When did they build? We are climbing uphill but see how the slope is not at all steep, no? How do they do this? In India, I went to Matheran, full time I was praying in that ghat. I thought this is it, if the driver does one mistake I am making it to heaven today. <br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> It’s engineering Ma. They apply everything they learn here.<br /><br /><strong>Ma: </strong>Ok ok, now change this CD, no other songs you have this only you are playing. And while you do that let me read some pothi (holy book)<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Yes sir!<br /><br /><em>And while I changed the CD I smiled, will photos really trap all these memories I thought?</em>Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-88034447171082723662010-04-11T13:06:00.001-07:002010-04-11T13:16:48.313-07:00I find nothing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocy-D_Gsxu840sknKJSPPe4bBO1DStLJz0xLh9xgsQHZAPdv2pgktmpRJAu8Z0ga-4iS8eW6ciTLBonoBAn5_73FVx6MmzscMNsDXse-tE5U_95wAUbbYzpW-WltapO3nvM12KPS-Lp4F/s1600/200148462-001.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocy-D_Gsxu840sknKJSPPe4bBO1DStLJz0xLh9xgsQHZAPdv2pgktmpRJAu8Z0ga-4iS8eW6ciTLBonoBAn5_73FVx6MmzscMNsDXse-tE5U_95wAUbbYzpW-WltapO3nvM12KPS-Lp4F/s320/200148462-001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458976327309698226" /></a><br />I keep looking.....<br /><br />….wandering<br /><br />….thinking<br /><br />…wishing<br /><br />…hoping<br /><br />….holding<br /><br />….snatching<br /><br />But find nothing.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-23609737450312755772010-04-01T21:54:00.000-07:002010-04-03T20:45:59.221-07:00Memories are fading and I am trying to hold on..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOZ5bre6yeNDaus1Ow5zm0c1QuMDRTW1KQmpNy0LIStQKC0daElM2agI9Y31uCOBDTYMZ_l62dfx5mhGKH9KtDeApdXZTzT0IIwOf_Ap1bN-mX9Bal0P1eDicapOyIAYOamlhujH49Veg/s1600/1183098144%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOZ5bre6yeNDaus1Ow5zm0c1QuMDRTW1KQmpNy0LIStQKC0daElM2agI9Y31uCOBDTYMZ_l62dfx5mhGKH9KtDeApdXZTzT0IIwOf_Ap1bN-mX9Bal0P1eDicapOyIAYOamlhujH49Veg/s320/1183098144%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455400174130832114" /></a><br />And I stop writing, just like that. I stopped visiting the site as well. It was like I shut myself down completely. Is this a phase everyone goes through while blogging? Then what brings us all back to writing, is it knowing there will always be some reader out there in this vast web universe who would read and relate, an unknown friend. Maybe yes, or maybe throwing my thoughts out there makes me calm. How many times do you find or meet people who are ready to listen, not say anything, not argue, not suggest, just listen. Blog is one such person. <br /><br />It has been raining for past few days, reminding me of Mumbai rains almost every day. Sometimes when I am at a traffic light, I just close my eyes and try to remember. Remember the smell of wet mud, remember the cool breeze, remember the chai wala pouring cutting chai. I remember people running out of the station holding newspaper, bags over their head trying to escape the rain. But Mumbai rains, when they poured they just poured. Remember taking a rikshaw home, hard plastic tied to the rikshaw doors which never really stayed in place and didn’t provide any protection from the rain. Remember standing at the door of the train, droplets of wind and rain touching my face. Remember listening to the rain as I slept. I still remember..<br /><br />But the memories are fading and I am trying to hold on…Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-66328151589525959782010-01-10T18:18:00.000-08:002010-01-29T15:47:38.047-08:00Where o where will the new year take me?January is the most exciting time of the year (new year begins and such), but trust me it vanishes in no time. By the time I think of resolutions its already March and then I wonder if its even worth coming up with any resolutions at all. So each year I basically think of re-living the year as I did last year, but guess what nothing stays the same. <br /><br />Last year was full of new things:<br /><br />-Working at 2 different companies, learning 2 completely different roles (nope and they did not suck)<br /><br />-Travelling to India (first time after 2 years- what amazing experience I tell ya)<br /><br />-Volunteering <br /><br />-Revisiting art<br /><br />Not bad eh? <br /><br />So about this whole visiting India thing, I did not put too much thought or ask too many people about experiences of visiting India. I wanted to experience it all first hand. What I did think about all the time was eating Pani Puri, yes, what else?<br /><br />As you all know from my previous post as soon as I landed I had my cousin's engagement to attend. Imagine attending a family function without even having time to go to the parlor. No kidding! I was kinda apprehensive about meeting (the mob) so many relatives in one place, yes my family and their friends can easily fit into an auditorium. So I reach on Saturday night and Sunday is the engagement. I dont sleep ofcourse, which means dark circles around my eyes. I look in the mirror and go ufff now what. Maa dear has done some planning so saree and stuff is ready. I get ready and we head to the engagement. <br /><br />As soon as I step in the hall, its like this whole world starring at me. Aunts, Uncles, Grandma, Cousins, Uncles uncle, Aunts sisters Bahu, Masi's friends first cousin. OMG, the entire freaking world is there. I try to stay calm on the surface put a fake smile and count till 20 or maybe 50 in both ascending and descending order.<br /><br />One aunt comes straight running at me (no really, it was running at me) and hugs me as if she had planned she would crush my bones the moment she saw me. My soul lets out a small wail, but I smile. <br /><br />Aunt: "oh my gawd, you havent changed at all, no weight gain, you must be going to gym and all that no?"<br /><br />Me: <em>smiling ...trying to speak but would i get a chance?</em><br /><br />Aunt: "yeah poor child (with almost fake tears in her eyes) no servants there, you must be doing everything, dishes, laundry, cooking, cleaning, something they say farming like...aa..<br /><br />Me: Lawn mowing<br /><br />Aunt: Yeah yeah that only, all that you must be doing, no doubt you are not gaining any weight. Have you seen XYZ's daugters, first cousins wife?<br /><br />Me: Huh? Actually auntiji, I just got here last night, and I really cant tell who you are talking about.<br /><br />Aunt: Now come on, dont act like a foreign return, you know her very well. And dont tell me about just landed last night and all, during dandia who stayed up all night. That time you never spoke of jetlag haa?<br /><br />Me: Errr.. yeah oh (smiling) no no I am fine<br /><br />Aunt: Oye idhar aao (calling the waiter) grabbing about 5 kababs and handing me one. You look so pale, come on eat now, these are very nice.<br /><br />Me: (not wanting to eat, nor wanting to stay there) o so nice of you, i think Ma is calling me, i need to get there before she comes here. I'll just be back ok.<br /><br />Aunt: (not listening and enjoying the kababas, starts talking to some other aunt)<br /><br />Folks that's just one interaction, there were several more on similar lines. In one hour I felt drained and wondered why they dont allow us to carry guns, even darts would be fine. <br /><br />I'll add some more of these horror stories over the weekend...Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-21980048160990571572009-12-13T23:11:00.000-08:002009-12-13T23:26:28.317-08:00Rural India- love itI visited Goa recently, it still remains one of my fav destinations in India. Goa has too many childhood memories attached and each time I visit Goa it rekindles those memories. I managed to click some pictures inspite of the crazy schedule of visiting 100 temples with Ma dear (I can't wait to tell you all about it). But for now let the pictures tell the tale:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39AlCtXYed8CRLnXPP9MnQlsUCI1-s3rmD2DNhbViP51mNAB89P30KLuopnfFO67zxgnyZ7NSkwthXQmDwGP5d-R6EWDIfDnThovdKeiLUCsBmpERD4APZ7k5-UEBQVDkWMHjmxAJigRr/s1600-h/Coconut+Trees.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39AlCtXYed8CRLnXPP9MnQlsUCI1-s3rmD2DNhbViP51mNAB89P30KLuopnfFO67zxgnyZ7NSkwthXQmDwGP5d-R6EWDIfDnThovdKeiLUCsBmpERD4APZ7k5-UEBQVDkWMHjmxAJigRr/s320/Coconut+Trees.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414987383078900850" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3YfQi5jiHcL6d5dvMnM2z2ENc1KWhb_2atNObN3AhXC2hZWyRlO1wAdXfWhVUDhcmbZueumDbdpSkQrf6vrDpt0G19LefCPsbKjcher535UuxXY5K1zm9oC-GU9FeokuYcnr47UJ5WHP/s1600-h/House.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3YfQi5jiHcL6d5dvMnM2z2ENc1KWhb_2atNObN3AhXC2hZWyRlO1wAdXfWhVUDhcmbZueumDbdpSkQrf6vrDpt0G19LefCPsbKjcher535UuxXY5K1zm9oC-GU9FeokuYcnr47UJ5WHP/s320/House.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414987839449028546" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqROghVRUGp3GoWBThLfMFm4-Z-umWnPWrHSQlV34DFBN9szh4sd-yDoTEFhkdHYTPV1cUMxdirP5KtgmHiVDo5rUwyofZTmHlXReAipELeGZkc91LwzFOUxHLE1YNFv6YUssbFhplul4/s1600-h/Village.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqROghVRUGp3GoWBThLfMFm4-Z-umWnPWrHSQlV34DFBN9szh4sd-yDoTEFhkdHYTPV1cUMxdirP5KtgmHiVDo5rUwyofZTmHlXReAipELeGZkc91LwzFOUxHLE1YNFv6YUssbFhplul4/s320/Village.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414988378715238226" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhaA-0DnN5jAgAQzi6gO7qZjeLJOP4ids-OXwIDW2SEWFfaOc5tCXmXr-2GcgA-QdWQmp5NiXZ-DZmteESChoxnvAOe6dnxbq8ArzCyQtVdK8p8_AEUXkaBJpx1Y7tnBakDPKFHPuvs_u/s1600-h/Cart.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhaA-0DnN5jAgAQzi6gO7qZjeLJOP4ids-OXwIDW2SEWFfaOc5tCXmXr-2GcgA-QdWQmp5NiXZ-DZmteESChoxnvAOe6dnxbq8ArzCyQtVdK8p8_AEUXkaBJpx1Y7tnBakDPKFHPuvs_u/s320/Cart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414988946341504322" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj1LyFEStP_KHMacNckDW0llxqs6pQeJ1csnCkISEg0UDV8_IWwDByum0bvA8S-fhvi-Fkm_QFd3LMw4JiEYp4giDRwZE04KMAxMhUuKiDxts9BFBgAOOa6IszEKDyqdS_qtksvZdVge-/s1600-h/Monkeys.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj1LyFEStP_KHMacNckDW0llxqs6pQeJ1csnCkISEg0UDV8_IWwDByum0bvA8S-fhvi-Fkm_QFd3LMw4JiEYp4giDRwZE04KMAxMhUuKiDxts9BFBgAOOa6IszEKDyqdS_qtksvZdVge-/s320/Monkeys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414989767019393554" /></a>Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-11750180456349659472009-12-01T05:39:00.000-08:002010-01-10T18:17:28.785-08:00Mumbai- 2.5 years laterDifferent people told me different experiences upon visiting India- sounds, smells, food, pollution, population and so on. Well, for me 2.5 yrs later Mumbai still looks and feels the same. As soon as the plane landed I had thousands of thoughts flying through my brain, the 18 hrs travel exhaustion was completely replaced by enthusiam. Mumbai welcomed me with familiar smells and sounds. The smell of several kinds of foods, oils, smell of burning plastic, high humidity and of sounds- loads of people all talking at the same time, cars honking, hawkers calling, birds screeching….its all just the same…its home. <br /><br />I walked out of the airport and saw atleast 200 people waiting there to receive someone. I smiled to myself. Meeting parents was a complete different experience, usually I would walk to them and touch their feet but as soon as I saw them, I ran and hugged them. <br /><br />What has changed?<br />-Traffic has grown a thousand fold. Distances have remained the same but the travel time has immensely increased inspite of all the multiple flyovers and road widening done. Average time: Dadar to Chembur 2 hours. No kidding.<br /><br />-The traffic and pollution seems to take a toll on the common man. Walking around, in newly constructed malls, I find more people snap at each other. Annoyed. <br /><br />-Driving has gone crazy. It’s like a crazy car race, with the one who can dodge multiple vehicles and people wins. People simply cross the highways and roads without looking on either side. Btw, I actually saw 2 people on a bike carrying a goat.<br /><br />So today I wanted to cross off riding my two-wheeler and I did, I had to relearn some basics. <br /><br />-About 100 people will be walking in the middle of the road and you have to dodge them, not to mention the cats, dogs even some lazy pigeons who obviously think they own the road<br /><br />-If you run into someone pretend as if the other person is at fault. “Dikhta nahi kya, thik se chalo na” and move on after some bickering<br /><br />-Don’t worry if you meet a neighbor, acquaintance, friend or anyone who talks to you. Just park in the middle of the road and starting talking. If someone honks just indicate them to drive ahead “Bhaiya thoda baju se nikal jao”<br /><br />-Btw, helmet fine is Rs 500, so unless you have enough time on hand to start a discussion about Mumbai Police bravery with the cop don’t try to leave without a helmet. <br /><br />-Catch up on all missed opportunities to honk. In US, I fear that honking may scare the person ahead who may eventually drive in reverse and damage my car. Here you can honk at leisure, at people, animals, or simply at no one. <br /><br />-And you really don’t need to travel all the way to Disneyland or any other park, simply ride through the potholes. You will find about 10 on each street.<br /><br />That’s the tale of bike riding. More stuff coming up.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-46447287160471469072009-11-17T19:00:00.000-08:002009-11-17T19:10:08.435-08:00Mom's EnthusiasmSeriously its like one week more and I get on the flight to India. I am lucky to work in one of the tallest buildings in Seattle, with big glass windows. Today as I stood looking out at the sky, the sun peeked out (trust me it’s a very rare event these days) and lit up the whole city. The fall colors glittered, ice clad Mt Rainier looked like a huge diamond and just then an airplane flew across the sky, reminding me of soon…soon the journey begins. Each passing day is making Mom dear excited. For those who have followed this blog know the special bond I share with Mom. For those who haven’t you are in for some story now. So yesterday as usual I call Mom, nothing special, just the routine evening call, what I did get however is a pulse of her intense enthusiasm. That women sure does know how to live and breathe each moment as it goes. This is how the call went:<br /><br />Me: (Ma picks up the phone in half a ring) <em>Hello Ma, what are you doing?</em><br /><br />Ma: (speaks instantly and rather breathlessly) <em>Ha ya, I have been waiting for your call. I wanted to share some news, there is a change in our itinerary, see we travel on the 5th , but before that you need to attend a function and that reduces one day, so we should actually travel on the 4th or wait may be even 3rd. Yeah 3rd would give us more time.</em><br /><br />Me: <em>Ma, maaa, maaaaaaaa will you slow down please. I am not following you. What’s this about, which itinerary, who decided, where are we going?</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>Uffff, see you don’t have time no? So we only decided where to go and we only created the itinerary. But then this function came up, so we decided we should change the itinerary. Did I tell you about this function?</em><br /><br />Me: <em>Who is we? And where are we going? Whose function? No you haven’t told me about the function yet, neither about this so called itinerary or where we will go. Please don’t tell me you created itinerary for travel within Mumbai </em>(trying to lighten the mood and curb the excitement a bit)<br /><br />Ma: <em>Me means see there is me, your dad, your brother, (some far off) aunt then there is another aunt, uncle..and some more people. We all decided. We all are going no that's why.Last Sunday we all met to decide the itinerary. What Mumbai? You think there is time for that…see on 5th we must go or rather on 4th, I need to call your aunt to finalize. Oh and the function yeah your cousin is getting engaged…so there is that. She wants you to come stay at her place one day before the engagement and then another day gone. Bai (our maid) Baiiii clean there, don’t you see that spot, clear there first.</em><br /><br />Me: <em>Maaa why are you talking to Bai now? What M is getting engaged? This is hugeeeeeeee. I am so excited. I have to go shopping with her for her engagement, yeah and I will go stay at her place. Ma I can’t believe it, this is such great news. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>Wait now, I have 100 things on my mind and you want me to remember and tell you each one. Girls na, any event you tell them all they think of is shopping. Where is time for that, but who will think that and then you ask why make itinerary. And we’ll see about staying at her place. After years you are coming and you want to go here and there. Stay at home first. </em><br /><br />Me: <em>But Maaa...</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>No maaa, nothing doing. You must have become skinny I know, first you come here rest and eat properly. At the function everyone will say you look thin and I don’t want that.</em><br /><br />Me: <em>Ma I am not skinny,I don't know who told you that or why you feel that way. And how will I become fat in 2 days and 1 day at M’s place isn’t a big deal, please Maa</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>What you girls want to do…do. Don’t ask me….Bai where are you going now, ok come in the evening</em><br /><br />Me: <em>Ma about this itinerary thing, can you wait till I reach and then we’ll decide?</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>Now listen girl, nothing doing, there are several changes to be made in the itinerary, I don’t even know by time you reach whether your aunts and me will come to any conclusion. </em><br /><br />Me (laughing noiselessly): <em>Ok ok Ma you decide, now you better hurry and call aunt</em><br /><br />Ma: <em>Yeah yeah, look at the time, you just ask me so many things and then time just flies….now I have 100 things to do…ok call tomorrow….Bai o Bai</em> (and her voice fades as she keep the phone)<br /><br />It has been years since my Mom stopped me from going for sleepover at my sister’s place and when she yelled at me (ofcourse fake yelling) I simply loved it. I couldn’t really reduce her enthusiasm even by a bit and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Btw, I still don’t know what the itinerary’s for.Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-88083768253669012682009-11-06T16:14:00.001-08:002009-11-07T18:41:43.085-08:00Long awaited trip to IndiaWhat's with time these days? I mean day light time saving is one thing but personally I feel there just isnt enough time. This was a crazy week at work, I even wrote a draft here but didnt get around to post it. Well the good thing about time flying is 25th Nov is arriving sooner and this is the first time I actually am flying home for thanksgiving. Yes folks you guessed it right, I am taking the long awaited vacation to India. Apart from buying gifts and wondering about thousand things, there are few questions that keep appearing in my mind no matter what, I thought I would share it here and know if any of you felt the same way before going to India:<br /><br />1. Would the roads and people look different?<br /><br />2. Will I find all my cousins have grown older, greying ?<br /><br />3. How about parents, do I run and hug them at the airport or simply stand still and let the thought that I am here and this is now sink in?<br /><br />4. Will I manage to slow time and do all that I want to?<br /><br />5. Will I be able to drive my 2-wheeler there like I did or will I be scared?<br /><br />6. How will I react to the thousands of questions and curious inquiries of neighbors, relatives, friends and acquantainces. Will I long for my personal space or embrace the attention?<br /><br />7. Will my brain constantly go into the loop of justifying the struggle I'll see daily- long queues, anxious train commuters, kids running aimlessly on streets vs porsche cars on broad roads, ample space and opportunities here?<br /><br />And the most haunting questions of all- will my heart still break into million pieces when I bid goodbye to the land I came from?<br /><br /><br />P.S: I was simply happy to see your comment here Secondsight, I think I would rather not attempt to drive a vehicle while I am there :)Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-25029042704436746902009-10-24T12:38:00.000-07:002009-10-24T13:33:25.419-07:00This blog is gathering some dust now!Aug, that's when I last wrote. 2 months and nothing. Between fighting flu, trying to actively participate with a non-profit and work, I am struggling with time to sit calmly and pen my thoughts. But I terribly miss my blogging friends and I havent heard from you all in while. So here' what I am going to do, whether I have a story to tell or not I am going to write atleast once a week, so we all stay in touch, ok?<br />Now about this new non-profit work, I was introduced to Ekal Seattle by one of my friends, a small non-profit that works with a mission to build one school per village. I attended their meetings just with an open curious mind, the more I met them, the more I liked their work and the people involved. Its a small team maybe 8 to 10 folks, very down to earth and nice people. Each one of them is extremely busy and yet they carve out time to work for Ekal, with only one thought of giving back. Giving back to those not as lucky as we are, to the country we came from and to the people we owe. <br /><br />In past month we organized 2 events- Tango Workshop and Bowling Night, one more event is coming up the Art Workshop. I have a little secret to share with you all, I am a hobby painter :). Next Wed you will find me in action, teaching Warli painting (a form of tribal art) in Redmond, WA. If anyone is interested please feel free to join. For details contact: contact@ekalseattle.org<br /><br />I'll definitely keep you all posted with how it went. But the reason I post this here is to share the satisfaction one can get out of voluntering, sharing and helping others. Its a good feeling. So if you are in Seattle and want to volunteer, feel free to contact me at perceptionblog@live.comPerceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-62194801155804056282009-08-28T13:44:00.001-07:002009-08-28T13:45:52.578-07:00PonderThe work is kinda slow today (oops I probably jinxed it) well that gives me a chance to quickly jot down my thoughts and most of all touch base with all you folks out there. So how’s everybody doing? <br /><br />Summer is slowly slipping away and the subtle cold winds in the evenings remind me of chilly winters. But well, why think of it when its not in sight right? Working in Seattle has been quite some experience for me, for one it feels like the elite FORT area in Mumbai. Everyone’s very well dressed, except me ofcourse. I continue to wear a sloppy pair of jeans and t-shirt, many times salwar kurta and find myself standing out in the crowd. I can feel the eyes on my back when I get into the elevator especially on days I wear kurta. But frankly I am not the only one, I have seen some others who like me wear Indian attire, not in the company I work for but I have seen some on the bus. Then is the ride back to Bellevue, that kinda of quite too, everyone has their head dug either in a book, are in deep sleep or are listening to music. You may find someone get in the bus, asking driving when to get off and completely lost. There maybe 5 others who know about the place this person is trying to get to, yet no one offers help. Which is strange to me. However, this experience contradicts the one you may come across when you travel to downtown, university district and such areas within Seattle. I once got on a bus to go to downtown, near university. Ofcourse this was the first time I was travelling in that direction or to the destination, so I asked the driver, then with a scared rabbit face I sat as near to the exit as possible. I strained my ears to hear what the bus driver announced. The bus was filling up with people and this scared me even more, after a while the exit door was out of site. But between the stop I go on the bus and the next one, I had nearly 4 people ask me where I was trying to get to. One guy told me he is responsible for me getting off at the destination. I was surprised and quite happy. These people kept looking at me at each stop and nodded, showed they were concerned and kept the promise of helping me find the destination. Next day as I took the 550 to Bellevue I realized how indifferent everyone was. Have you experienced something like this? Is there a reason for this behavior? While you think and ponder, I will check if avalanche of work has come in :)Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-50170948403259378232009-08-05T21:16:00.000-07:002009-08-12T18:49:11.337-07:00To Go or Not to Go- Pratibha KamerkarOur marriage was a quick one- chaat magni paat biha. Ashok got vacation approval only for few days, it wasn’t closer to December so he wasn’t able to combine the long weekends with his vacation. Within a few days of his arrival we were married, actually almost in a hurry and then he flew back. It was only then that the real rituals started-post marriage: visa, immigration and most of all constant reminders of "jaldi jaldi apne ghar jaana" (go to "your" home soon now) from closer relatives….all this only for few months. Even before I could think about their nagging suddenly I was on a plane and landed here, in our new rented apartment in US. <br /><br />I had insisted on buying some high heels sandals, but as soon as I landed the extreme cold and slippery tiles in the airport both hit me. Nonetheless US was like a fantasy world. Beautiful broad roads, tall sparkling buildings, speedy expensive cars…..everything so perfect..just like a painting. No crowd, no smoke and no dust.<br /><br />And my home..home was a single family rented apartment…wall to wall carpet. Big kitchen, big bedroom and everything included-washing machine, dishwasher, microwave, cooking range, oven. Everything was just perfect!<br /><br />The very next day after I reached US, Ashok rejoined office. That evening I dressed up, got ready and was waiting anxiously for him to come home. I thought, he would definitely say, "Let me show you our new city, lets go out". But when Ashok got home, he was extremely tired, "Oh, dinner's not ready yet, come on now lets eat quickly, I am so hungry"-says Pratibha Kamerkar<br /><br />"What? Dinner at 6.00 pm?" she wondered. But in this fantasy picture perfect place, this was the norm. Here you would find seashores but no butte wala bhaiya neither the sound of chana-kurmura-shengdana lo….There was beautiful greenery everywhere, at every corner there was a flowering plant but no sign of bhel puri. <br /><br />Back home newly married couple would hold hands and go for a walk to a closeby park, chit chat, eat bhel, kulfi and come home. But here this did not seem possible. <br /><br />No one would come to drop off bottle of milk in the morning. No bai will come to clean vessels. If I go out to buy vegetables, I wouldn’t recognize any vegetables in the mall. If I wanted a cup of milk or sugar I couldn’t go next door and ask. Milk would be purchased in a cardboard carton, which would then go directly in to the fridge, just like that. For nothing would you go to anybody nor would anybody come visit you, cause there werent any real neighbours here. All this suddenly zoomed in-says Pratibha Kamerkar<br /><br />These were some of the very first experiences of a girl from a very small town in India. One who was used to eating food served in a steel plate, drinking water from a glass made of steel, sitting on the floor to eat together with her family. One who didn’t even know an electric stove existed. She experienced pitch silence through out the day. Every neighbor's door closed. She could hear sound of the cars leaving and entering garages,but that was about it, for most parts it was pin drop silence. <br /><br />Back home, she lived in a big joint family, someone or the other would be constantly talking, Gandma would always be reading some stotra loudly, Mom would always be nagging the servant. In the morning Dad would loudly ask for his tiffin, next door Lata would call out Pratibha's name and Pratibha would run to the balcony. Lata would always be on time to reach college. There was just a wall separating Pratibha and Lata's home which she could easily hop across; and most importantly back home there were thick friends. For Pratibha who grew up in such an environment this was similar to a lonely cage…ofcourse made of gold. Neither was she familiar with the country nor the customs. Neither could she go out nor was there enough work at home to kill time. Moreover the climate seemed extremely weird. Stingy cold winds, lush, thick, big, dark trees everywhere and to add to that cloudy skies. It was all new to Pratibha, who had never seen a day go by without the sun shinning bright in the sky. And here during winter there would be days without any sign of sun. She was unfamiliar with this, with the surrounding, she tried to relate to all of it but yet there was nothing she could relate to. <br /><br />-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />This is a glimpse of the first experience of Pratibha Kamerkar who migrated to US around 1950. She talks more about not being able to call her family due to the high phone charge and if at all they did manage to call home after saying "Everything is fine, I am happy here", she would start choking on her tears. The only means of communication with her family was through letters. <br /><br />What did I feel after reading her experience? Did I relate to it? Did you relate to it?Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-63657656646279476622009-08-04T21:42:00.000-07:002009-08-04T22:05:14.411-07:00And America's Got TalentAnyone watching the show? Any comments to share. While the tag from Neeraja is still pending, I wanted to throw some words together and build a quick post. After hearing constantly about the heat wave on news, Seattle has returned to its normal cloudy,almost raining, slightly cold self.<br /><br />So about AGT, I have been watching the show this season, there is this one dance group (Indians)who danced on Jai Ho! It was fabulous, i loved it. And I am hoping to see more performances. Today there were 12 teams participating and all extremely talented but of those I simply adored these-One 14 yr old awesome singer, a group of guys dancing while wearing skates (yep skates)and an hilarious 75 year old Grandma Lee who creates the perfect comedy.<br /><br />One other things I want to share with you all is the latest book that I am reading- For here or to go. Its in regional language and is basically a collection of interviews. Interviews of the first Indian immigrants who came to work in US. It gives an insight into what was the reasoning behind those who stayed here and why did some return back home. I have to sit down and write, share about what I feel after reading each interview. Each interview pushes you to think, ponder, sometimes tears just come to my eyes without knowing and sometimes I choke trying to not cry out loud. Sometimes it makes me proud reading stories of those brave people who didnt give up, who came here to test the strength in their wings and who flew to great heights. More about this book and the interviews coming up soon...Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-39041481759932778532009-07-25T13:05:00.000-07:002009-07-25T13:31:22.616-07:00Bus Ride- YesterdayYesterday I got on to the bus, as usual nodded to the grumpy driver, who by the way wishes me goodmorning these days and moved on to find a window seat. Across from my seat I saw a pump guy getting all cozy and ready to sleep. Well it was around 7.45 am and not everyone needs to be all fresh and energetic. May be he was up late night, may be the weather is just right for the nap and may be I should stop thinking about why he wants to sleep and mind my own business. The very pregnant nice lady came and sat next to me. We often ride together, I chit chat with here and that makes the time go by soon. She says her baby is unusually active in the morning, kicking and bumping. I look from the plump man to her plump tummy. <br /><br />Lots of regular riders get on the bus, most of them with headphones on. The bus moves to the next stop, the same old lady who asks the same old question to the grumpy driver gets on the bus. Now my friends let me tell you about this old lady, this old lady asks the same question to the driver daily- Whether the bus will go to the destination she wants to reach? And this she does everyday, I think in a way she tries to irritate the grumpy driver. First she either pretends or maybe really does not hear his answer. Then she sits right across him (in the elder folks seat) and asks him "Are you sure this bus goes there?" . Ha! The grumpy driver turns to her and tells her he drives the same route daily, stressing on the word DAILY. She thanks him- Thank you son, peacefully closes her eyes and enjoys the ride. Those who have noticed this, smile whenever she gets on the bus. <br /><br />Well as the bus reaches the 3rd stop, the plump guy I told you folks about starts snoring. Yep, loud and clear. He also has an unusal snore pattern: "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....psssssssssstttttt" ending with a whistle. I try to reason with myself, well its normal for people to snore, stop listening, dont even look in that direction, ok spell Mississippi, talk to pregnant lady. But in spite I laugh, now laughing these days is risky,why you ask? Let me tell you how vulnerable these pregnant ladies are to laughter, the preggo lady looks at me with her eyebrows up, questioning sort of why I laugh. I turn my head and look at the plump snoring guy, that's it for her. She goes into a fit of laughter, too hard to stop or control. She keeps holding her tummy and keeps laughing. I pray she doesnt go into labor. Just then the snoring pattern of the plump guy changes to "Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrr Psssstttttttttttttttttt". While I think if there is a way to distract the preggo lady from looking or hearing the snore man,suddenly a south indian song starts playing loudly. Everyone looks around, the guy listening to music is asleep, doesnt know the music is on loudspeaker mode now. <br /><br />What starts as an exchange of smiles, turn into full roar laughter and this time the grumpy driver joins in. The guy sitting next to the music player, wakes him up, who screams. Screams???? Why??? Not sure why. This leads to another round of laughter and wakes the snoring man. Who instantly joins the laughter club completely unaware of his snoring attribute.<br /><br />Sometimes laughing with strangers makes the bus ride worth it!Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-40534893362235069472009-07-21T18:36:00.001-07:002009-07-21T18:45:01.365-07:00There is lots to share :)So I have been travelling across the bridge for past few months. Did you know its a whole new world there? For those who live downtown know what I mean. I have lotsa and lotsa of tales to share, bus journeys, people, the beautiful view of Mt.Rainier on a sunny day and work place stories. For most part, Seattle downtown reminds me of Mumbai. Lot of people walking on streets daily (maybe less than Mumbai) but yet so many more than the suburbs. Each day I catch the bus to downtown and share the ride with a grumpy bus driver, who by the way drives truly well and reaches downtown in a matter of 20 mins. Recently I discovered his true nature aint grumpy, but more about that later. Then there is the very pregnant lady, whom I really admire for her motivation to go to work daily. Then there is the guy who play louds music and gets yelled at. The other guy whose ringtone is a religious tune. <br /><br />There is so much I experience daily on this bus ride, now I need to sit down and jot a proper post for all you friends. Coming up soon!Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4892875239365411328.post-60953128816150298142009-05-30T11:38:00.000-07:002009-05-30T13:35:57.730-07:00Monster went poof!First of all, u guys rock for your patience. Second of all, whoooo-hoooo to all those who visited my blog in spite of no updates (ok I know this is same as point 1). Third of all, this could be a rather long post so buckle up!<br /><br />So folks news is I checked off one more adventure from my "things-close-enough-to-adventure-list" over the Memorial day weekend. I went Jet-Ski, I know I know, it ain't even a real adventure. But if you are like me, who believes, that any deep water source be it lake, river or sea bears sharks and anaconda, well it becomes a different story! <br /><br />Now this goes back to when I was 4 or (ahem! maybe 8) and my bro was watching this horrible shark movie marathon. You all know that one- JAWS. And I tagged along pretending to be brave. That's when this thought got rooted, same reason why I would never jump into deep pool to swim and neither do I ever swim underwater. Ok fine, I'll say it, I don’t even swim one lap that well. And then there was that anaconda movie, a huge slimy snake swallowing a human and then throwing up! Now who thinks that's funny? But well the point is I had to check off the jet-ski from the list and there is only so much one can do at Lake Chelan. A place close by 3 hrs drive. So I and J hopped on the Jet Ski. To begin with, I was terrified. And to make it worst, I had watched the movie latest Terminator in theatre and the machine snakes stayed in my brain. So while J skied away wind swishing, eyes watering to the middle of the lake. I recited every possible stotra I knew. I also thought of all the things I wanted to do if I never made it back to the shore. Especially about the inheritance of this blog and my potted plants. Often my high-pitched screams of "Jao, Jao"(meaning Go away, Go away) left the other Jet-skiers confused. I wonder why I used the National language, but well that's another story. The instructor had told us to stay 100 feet away from other jet ski's, so as soon as they came to my sight as a tiny spot I would start screaming. My sound would simply bounce against the wind and go down my throat. Also, any boat in sight would seem like a Titanic to me, no kidding! And I was quite sure this Titanic would sink near our Jet Ski and cause some horrendous waves. <br /><br />But yet between all this fear, there was something exciting about riding a Jet-Ski, which made adrenaline flow through my veins. I was scared, hell yeah and yet some part of me was enjoying the weather, the sun, crystal clear lake and the view of the land from the middle of the lake. <br /><br />Finally J put me in the drivers seat, this was my one chance to truly check off the adventure. I had to gather up the courage, run over those anacondas, punch the sharks in the face (ahem, using my foot) and thoroughly enjoy. So I started off at a speed of 2 miles/hr and watched some paddle boats going past me. Smirks on the faces of all those people paddling away. Hmph! I wondered if someone drapped tiny floats around ants and put them in water would they swim faster than my jet ski, hell ya! So I debated with self for a while and finally pumped gas in the Yamaha without looking at the speedometer. J was quite high on adrenaline and screamed and whooooooo-hoooooooooed. Suddenly one by one the shark, anaconda monsters started vanishing. The boats all around reduced to a manageable size from the humongous Titanic ships. While I screwed up a couple of times by coming a abrupt halt and turning the handle all the way to left or right causing the jet ski to go a full circle right at the same spot, it was all fun. J was quite prepared to swim to shore. I wasn’t, who wants to swim in chilly glacier water, I don’t. But again, if I were to fall and drown in the lake, I better not regret dying there, right? So I stabbed my monsters and skied away!<br /><br />So now that I shared some of my monsters, how about you tell me yours? Come on, everyone has their monsters-some fear the dark, some fear the ghosts (don’t even get me started on that), some fear heights. How about u?Perceptionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00920083979235188445noreply@blogger.com18