Till we meet again!

I am out of Chennai starting Oct 1. Don’t ask me if this is a permanent move or how long I’ll be away. Frankly speaking, no clue! One thing that I am sure of is that nothing is permanent – so all those happy that Chennai will be a quieter and saner place in my absence, beware – you never know when you’ll have to eat your words. Meanwhile, keep glued (I so wish :)) to this space to know what I am doing with my life…

Chennai – A two and a half years of love and hate – and now that I look back, more love! 

For every aspect that I have disliked about Chennai – I have been blessed with a hundred reasons to like it. I have blogged, tweeted, facebook’ed a lot about what irks me about Chennai – the language problem, the infrastructure, the weather, the traffic jams, the early morning crackers on diwali etc etc. But you know what, I have thoroughly enjoyed my life in Chennai – and I do not say this to sound politically correct – I have just been exceptionally lucky to have met the right people at the right time!

Apart from the positive and pleasant home and family support (a special mention to my bro who painstakingly spent most weekends with me :)), the following have been my top 5 lifelines in Chennai:

• The work colleagues who are friends first: Like I said I was plain lucky to have met the right people! Considering my social life outside of those I know at work and family was zilch, I was fortunate to have struck the right chord with some like-minded people at work who were extremely compatible with my craziness!  Ofcourse, fortunately I don’t leave them behind – the bonds are deep enough to only grow stronger.

• Ericsson : For the professionally satisfaction and personal growth

• Autorickshaws: This three-wheeled wonder ensured that I reached wherever I wanted – whenever I wanted.  Rain or sunshine – the most dependable mode of transport in Chennai (Yes, you spend all your energies haggling for the price and still end up paying much more than required – but oh well!)

• Food: Eating out in Chennai is quite cheap compared to most metros. From the Murugun’s and Saravana Bhavan to the Italian and Chinese specialty restaurants to the five star buffets – Chennai can gratify any palate!

• Shopping: Now this is a lifeline for any girl in any city. Chennai offers a range of shopping experience from Pondy Bazaar to Khader Nawaaz Khan Road to Spencer’s, City Center and Express Avenue, and if you have the visa (or mastercard) power, nothing can keep you down and low!

So here’s a toast to the good times, we will meet again because it is not only a very small world but a round one too! Cheers!

7 Minutes

The piquant sacchariferous reek of jasmine flowers

The clamor of the vegetable hawkers and the fruit sellers

The dogs and human beings competing for the same stretch of space

The rush of the sea of commuters rising and ebbing in waves

The undecipherable announcements on the screechy microphone

The shriek of the siren and the halting breaks

The cacophony of women exchanging notes on food and family

The drooping backs under the heavily loaded school bags

The grey ash smeared foreheads

The long never ending queues at dirty windows

The red, yellow, black and blue lunch satchels

The hand-bags clutched close to the bodies

The constant elbowing to find one’s way

The stepping on the other’s toe without an apology

The stinking perspiration of the Indian summer heat

The family of four tip-toeing on the lesser used distant tracks

The wannabe heroes hanging on the foot boards

The wandering flirtatious glance of the guy with the ID tag

The indulgent smile by the salt and pepper haired gentleman

The neighbor’s humming to the latest hit on his ipod

The low-toned mushy romantic tête-à-tête on cell phones

The dexterously fast-paced texting fingers

The assembly of the men with white walking sticks

The folded creases of the morning newspaper

The rattling of the bowls for alms

The wind in your hair, the dust in your face, the urgency in your step…

…The seven most crowded and happening minutes!

Encroachment!

I have nothing new to say. The number of sparrows is decreasing, the tigers are facing the threat of extinction, pigeons being electrocuted, and no, I will not talk about global warming.

High rises, and ever increasing urban population has pushed “natural” life to the periphery of our existence. We have so many more worries – EMIs, fuel prices, heat (forget the cause), network connectivity. And in all this whirligig that means the world to us, when we come across living beings that are not humans we either are too busy to notice them, or we spare a moment of guilt and passion, a camera click maybe, and then move on with our mundane reality.

These squirrels around my parents’ apartment in Noida had babies, and all of us spared some time to feed them food and water and observe them stealthily from behind closed windows and curtains. I am sure these cuties couldn’t care a damn about how happy we felt having them around. They must be cribbing about the lack of privacy, if nothing else.

This pigeon has a sad story. It had built a nice nest over our split ac’s rear in the balcony, and when we had to remove the covering of the AC to get ready for the rising mercury in Delhi, the nest fell over, breaking one egg. Yes, we were devastated. And that is that. The pigeon fluttered around for a couple of hours giving us the cold, accusing stare – we had a few grains and water to offer in apology – It finally recreated its abode on top of our neighbor’s bedroom window. I swear the pigeon family will be safer there than on top of the ac.

I am less sympathetic to the noisy crows, not that their right to co-exist is any less. Am sure our dislike is mutual.

So, what are your encroachment stories?

Dakshinachitra

I finally succeeding in dragging Vish to Dakshinachitra – quite literally translated as the “picture or vision of the South (India)”, and much against the locals’ quips that the place is not worth the hype – I enjoyed my trip.

Dakshinachitra, DC for short, is promoted as a heritage village site with the objective of recreating the rural life of the four states of Southern India – Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh.

For Bollywood fans out there, this is the place where Shilpa Shetty and Salman Khan spent “the two days” in the movie Phir Milenge :).

Situated on the east coast road (ECR), DC is a perfect family getaway on a weekend/holiday morning with not only sight seeing to do, but fun activities such as basket weaving, pottery, puppet making etc., and ofcourse shopping that add to the tourist value of the place.

The best part is that it does not get too crowded; though being in the open, a hot summer day may not be the ideal time for a visit.

DC endeavors to preserve the traditional art, craft and architecture forms by providing a platform to the artisans to showcase their talent in the form of demo booths (sari weaving, glass blowing among others) and exhibitions.

Pitched as a cultural odyssey of the South, DC does try to live up to the buzz around it – The Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh sections are still under construction whereas the Tamil Nadu and Kerala sections are complete and offer a fairly detailed insight into the various aspects of the village life.

So, I would recommend that if you are in Chennai or visiting Chennai, take a half day out for a trip to Dakshinachita and you won’t regret it.

Here are a few pictures from our trip.

A view of the craft bazaar that greets you right at the entrance…

The structures of village houses…

A peak inside the houses…

Now for some demo and fun stuff…

Silk sari weaving…

Pottery (A statutory warning: The potter thatha is one impatient guy – he was screaming at me in tamil that I was not doing it properly without even teaching me how to mould the clay first :(.

You can also take a shot at grinding rice :D...

Kili jyoshiyam or the parrot fortune teller is another interesting stop over. Following instructions, the parrot comes out of its cage, randomly selects one card from the pile of cards, takes it to the god’s picture and the gives it to the guy sitting there – who then reads out your fortune.

And finally, some shots, which I think were in Phir Milenge…

If you have seen the movie, you couldn’t have missed the amphitheater…

------------------

Added:

Here's the song from Phir Milenge, shot at Dakshinchitra (Thanks a ton Aastha!!!)

At the shore…

Spent a rainy Saturday sight seeing locally :).

Two years in Chennai and this was my first trip ever to Mahabalipuram, popularly abbreviated as Mahabs!

A pleasant early morning drive on ECR (which is also promoted as the Entertainment corridor with a series of theme parks, beaches, resorts and boat houses) to Mahabalipuram/ Mammallapuram, leaving the noise and pollution of the buzzing city behind, is such a relief.

The sea that welcomed us at the Shore Temple was quite boisterous…I love the sight of waves crashing on rocks…

The exquisite Dravidian architecture of the temple is an absolute WOW! What was hilarious ofcourse was the entry fee – Rs 10 for Indians and Rs 250 for Non-Indians!

It’s a pity that this wonderful structure is getting ruined/eroded because of the continuous sea breeze and nothing really is being done to preserve it…

The cyclonic torrential downpour during the day did nothing to deter our crazy spirits. Inspite of the incessant rains, we were able to complete the tour of the temples, the pancha rathas (five chariots), the caves, Krishna’s butter ball, Descent of the Ganges and Arjuna’s penance - Each beautifully and intricately carved sculpture reminiscent of the grandeur of Pallava art.

After lunch at Moon Rakers (a non-veggie’s delight and a veggie’s nightmare), we headed towards Mudaliarkuppam – on ECR, around 50 kms before Pondicherry. This is a boat house that offers water sports such as water skiing, water scooting, boating etc.

Given the weather conditions, we were not allowed to ski/scoot.

However, the boating experience through the backwaters was a lot of fun. We were transported in a motor boat from the back waters to an almost-exclusive beach – we thoroughly enjoyed playing in the warm saline waters, splashing and falling with the waves and collecting sea shells!

Deeply unsettling…

I have tried convincing myself, unsuccessfully, that I have no business commenting on people’s beliefs and rituals. But there are certain experiences that are so agitating that you choke!

Chennai is a city that is an unfathomable concoction of disparate ways of living. You have the usual Page 3 glitterati, the revered Kollywood stars, the megalomaniac politicians, the intellectual few, the balanced educated middle class, the poverty stricken slum dwellers, the miserly rich – sounds like any Indian city?

Hang on – You have to live here to understand how stark the differences between people are and how these manifest themselves in every day living, unlike a metropolitan like Delhi, Mumbai or Bangalore.

On the same stretch of road, you can see women wearing short dresses, salwar kameezes, saries from 6 yards to 9 yards; men wearing shorts, jeans, dhotis and suits, children with dainty sandals, sneakers and bare feet!

But this kind of economic variance is not as perturbing as the religiously charged atmosphere of the city.

In a strange way the whole city is united in its religious fervor and yet divided by the differences because of religion again. Temples adorn every street and corner available – queues of people throng these every single day – different gods for different sects – different traditions for different sects.

I am no religious person. I know only one entity - one god – a super power that I believe in. My god has no religion. The only good part about religion is the festivals – opportunities for community celebration and I believe in the spirit of all festivals irrespective of the religion they come from. So what irritates me is when religion interrupts normal life – be it the kavars in UP, the chhatt processions in Bihar, the use of loud speakers in jagratas, bhajans – however all these can be ignored as just inconveniences – take a different route, stuff cotton wool in your ears...

What is deeply unsettling is rituals out of my understanding – the death dance – the joyous dancing by men around the dead body celebrating life after death or the end of a torturous life and peace in death – I do not know.

I was just growing accustomed to this very common sight on main roads and streets here, that I had another disturbing experience yesterday. I witnessed, at multiple places, men and women with lemons and arrows pierced on their painted bodies, faces and even eyes – swaying swords, dancing as if in a trance – with hundreds around them in some sort of unexplained frenzy.

My heart had that sinking feeling you get when you sense the world around you collapsing.

At North Usman Road, I was in an auto waiting at the traffic signal – when one such procession stood right next to me. The dressed up man and woman looked towards my side and our eyes met. I did not see any religious faith, strength, joy or even anger. There was an unmistakable desperate fear, their gaze seemed to go beyond, as if in a given-up-search of another horizon.

In a split second, the noisily dancing crowd around broke my line of sight.

Why in the name of god torture do we torture our bodies, kill our souls, inconvenience and hurt others – why can’t we use the name of god to bring peace, serenity and love – the symbols god stands for?

When bloggers meet…

…There’s bound to be a lot of communicating, networking, witticism, and ofcourse fun! The IndiBlogger’s Chennai Meet this Saturday (20th March) at the GRT Convention Center was all this and more!

I personally was very hesitant going for a meet like this – I had absolutely no clue what I would do – I was not looking for any “real” networking per se, I didn’t have a commercial or a very topical blog, I would love to be read by many more people but was not sold out to the idea of advertising for my blog, or like someone commented “capturing victims” – Nevertheless, I did go, and this post means that I did not regret it one bit!

The 30 seconds to fame item on the agenda really formed the core around which the rest of the evening revolved. As each blogger introduced himself and herself, I was in splits laughing, taking notes of the blogs that seemed of interest, and even once in a while waiting for the time keeper to beep ;). It was fantastic to see a conglomerate of people (I suppose around 200) passionately talking – there were bright sparks, hilarious ideas, unique sentiments – a myriad musings.

The “back panels” (my back panel seen in the pic over my very own IndiBlogger ‘T’ – yes, one of the most eagerly sought after “freebie” at the meet) provided a good opportunity to interact with all the bloggers – we exchanged our URLs and tweet IDs – The lazy me is yet to go through the ones I collected and reach out – I plan to do a lot of online reading over the coming days to make up for the backlog – But, I have already begun to receive some comments on my blog posts – which is very thrilling (and makes me feel a tad bit guilty as well), apart from the fact that the hits on my blog go up :).

A bit of a dampener was the Traditional Media vs. Blogging session, where my lack of knowledge of Tamil (yes, the “predominant” speaker from Zee Tamil refused to offer even a summary translation) saw me smiling at others who were in the same boat. Pleasantly, I did have the honor of sitting with a few “just-made” friends, who offered some lingual help. The media person from the Australian channel spoke well of the contradictions that arise professionally for a journalist who also blogs.

We had the Univercell (the sponsors of the event) announce a contest – no, they are not paying me to announce the contest, so go find it for yourself on the IndiBlogger’s or the Univercell site.

The “chaai”, “kaapi” and random conversations on blogs, RSS, hash tags, followers, page hits, SEOC (or some weird technological nazi like that) and the much coveted IndiRanks provided the perfect close.

Great job Rene, Anoop and the entire gang at IndiBlogger. You guys rock!

Also cheers to the wonderful blogger-friends I made – Deepa, Sonia, Anju, Akshay, Susan, Tariq, Shilpa, Akshay, Karhik, Gomati, and the many others (If your name is not here, apologies, I might look young but my memory fails me once too often).

Wishing you all greater blog posts, page hits, followers, and IndiRanks!

2 States

Inspite of the fact that I am no big Chetan Bhagat fan, I could not resist the temptation of picking up a copy of 2 States on a recent visit to a book store.

2 States could pretty much be the story of my marriage too, except that it was lacking in all the dramatic paraphernalia, the dysfunctional family syndrome and the extreme emotions that make up Chetan Bhagat’s novella.

I do not think there exists another nation so diverse in its cultures, peoples, beliefs, and languages as India. Travel from one end to the other and you would be asking yourself if it was the same country?

My boss in LA once asked me, so was it a cultural shock when you first landed here? I was like not at all. We Indians have enough cultural shocks traveling from one state to another that it is actually a relief to be in a place where all people atleast speak the same language.

What happens when a UP Brahmin girl brought up and based in Delhi decides to marry the “purest of pure” Tamil Iyer boy from Madras (Chennai, it is now)?

Ofcourse, there are the initial fireworks – My dad asked me in disbelief, “Are you serious?” I was. The “how’s”, when’s”, “who’s”, and “why’s” followed.

The most difficult is obviously the WHY!

“Why do you want to marry him?”

I like him.

“Why do you like him?”

He is nice

“But why him?”

No answer to that one!

The next set of questions, even more flabbergasting.

“Why did you not tell me?”

What am I doing now? I am telling you.

“No, why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

When what happened? I love him and want to marry him, and I am telling you that.

“Why didn’t you tell me when you fell in love?”

No answer to that one too!

Fortunately, the course of our love was not very turbulent. My mom readily agreed. Vish’s parents were also very welcoming.

My dad took some time but happily came around after asking a trillion and more questions such as how will his hyperactive, slightly spoiled, “feminist” and completely stubborn daughter adjust in Chennai, in a South Indian family set up; the distance between Chennai and Delhi (I forget in what unit); what about the language barrier, how will Vish handle fights and my mood swings (not that my dad doesn’t think much of me, I think he wanted to give Vish the worst picture possible in the vain attempt to dissuade him :)!); family background (so important in an Indian wedding); can the wedding be in Delhi – North Indian style?;

And patiently Vish did answer in great depth and as genuinely as he could – I am sure he did not know the actual distance between DEL and MAA – I think, love makes you patient and persistent ;)!

Then, came the onslaught of curious relatives: Is he dark? (And I thought “fair” was considered important for a woman); Does he speak in a madrasi accent? (Is our Delhi/UP accent something we should be very proud of); They consider fish vegetarian, no? (No!); Does he always wear a lungi? (WTF!); Do they get fresh milk in Chennai, there are hardly any cows seen on the streets of Chennai! (Ok, do the stray cows in Delhi supply the milk?); Do you get atta – wheat flour, they only eat rice, no? (That’s a genuine question :)); Do they wear silk all year round? (Kinda, but silk is a natural fiber!); Do they have pubs and malls in Chennai…do people go to discs? (Yes, please ignore the ignorant North Indians); Do they cook all their food only in coconut oil? (Cudn’t give a damn!); South Indian men like only “healthy” women no – u see all those movies. (No response to that one!)

Our families coming together brought in a lot of cross cultural awareness. Many myths were shattered, and some firmly reestablished.

Everybody learned a few facts, first ofcourse, that there is more to an Iyer Madrasi than oiled hair, geeky looks, engineering degree, and overseas relatives; Tamilians have tasted inter-state and international cuisines, though curd rice still remains their favorite dish; Not eating “paneer” does not make them any less normal; Delhites are more flamboyant but we also observe traditions like they do in the south – only maybe not at early morning unearthly hours; We do not and cannot understand how a DJ can be substituted by Carnatic Music at a wedding; Just like everybody in the south is not from Madras, everybody in the north is not from Punjab;

More importantly - Moms on both the sides are fiercely protective of their sons; Relatives in both the states can get pesky; Everybody loves gifts;

And most importantly finally it’s not what community you belong to but who you are that makes all the difference – Generalizations are superficial!

All’s well that ends well, they say, and I agree. The wedding went off smoothly – North Indian style with my dad making some improvisations like making me sit on his lap for the “taali” (any need!) – and yes, I did wear the complete nine yards during the “pheras”.

Post the wedding, life’s changed – only slightly.

Sambhar-sadam goes along pretty well with paneer makhani, as does masala dosa with chhola bhhatura ;)!

The latest entrepreneurial endeavor in town…

…is feigning familiarity to siphon off some green bucks from unsuspecting people.

First the story:

Location: Pondy Bazaar, T Nagar
Time: 11:30 AM on a busy Sunday (a few weeks ago)
Charlatan: A well-aged, highly-decent looking, balding guy – medium height
Victim (potential): Yours truly…:p

Here’s what happened - I was in Pondy Bazaar, trying to locate Big Bazaar (don’t ask me why my friend and I chose that very landmark to meet up – that’s incidental).

So I, the epitome of a directionless body, was on the phone having the standard conversation “I am right near this guy selling flowers, are you on that the opposite side? Wait, are you on the left or right; no, no, I mean if you face the flower guy, then are you on the left or right; okay okay, I understand you have not spotted the flower guy yet! – Forget it, I’ll get where you are!”

To the flower guy: “Anna, Big Bazaar, where?”
(Did you just sneer and say “women!”? I don’t blame you just this one time :))

Out of the mass of people I was surrounded by (those who have been to this infamous place know what I am talking about; others please try to imagine a crowded place with only the space you occupy as that available for breathing – and yet I go there, but that’s a different story!) – I see this middle-aged guy waving at me – I ignore him.
And then he’s right in front of me, his hand extended out – “Remember Madam? Shankaran from the airport? Air India counter?”

I could not recall meeting this guy at all. But he looked so sincere, and being the fool that I am, I pretended I recognized him, “Oh, I see, Hello” (Big Blunder 01).

I am known to smile at random strangers (without any malicious intent, obviously :D), and I thought maybe this guy had helped me at the airport, you know, with my luggage sometime, or with an extra hand bag tag when I would have managed to lose mine after the security stamp, and we must have exchanged…errr…well, smiles!.

The man continued, “How are you Madam? I am here because of my foot injury – came to see the doctor”.

Emotional lightweight (me): “Oh, are you better now?” (Big Blunder 02)

Crook: “The doctor has asked for 1500 rupees, I have only 600”

Fused tubelight (me): (to myself) "Oh god, is he after money; do I really know him…am I carrying 900 bucks in cash…does he really need the money?" (faith in strangers dies hard – Big Blunder 03)

Crook: “Can you please lend me 900 rupees?”

Flickering bulb (me): (to myself) "He is only after money, Yuvika – Vish will be mad – get out of here!"

(to the man) “I am sorry, I am here to meet someone (can’t still admit, I don’t want to give him any money cos I don’t trust him) – where is Big Bazaar?"

Crook: “Right on the opposite side, but ma’am I need the money”

Enlightened being (me): “Thank you, I am sorry I don’t have money” (Delayed, but nevertheless finally, the great escape!)

And so I turned around and ran across the street at the fastest speed ever, with this man following me and shouting, “Madam 500 atleast”

What a sight it was! I did manage to get him off my trail and locate my friend – All’s well that ends well?

I tried putting the episode behind me, and didn’t tell anybody about it at the risk of worrying my folks.

And, I would have never blogged about this had I not met the same guy again outside Odyssey in Adyar. I was with my in-laws this time. He approached a relative with the same unassuming, genuine disposition, “Hello, Sir – Adi Narayanan from the airport – Air India counter!”
He did not notice me. It was time to make amends. I told my uncle not to acknowledge the guy as he was a rogue. We did just that. We just ignored the guy, and after a minute or two he was gone.

Most of us have heard of such incidents, but when it comes to that moment, we are seldom mentally prepared to do what must be done. I thought it’d be a good idea to share this with you guys - not sure if this is happening in other cities as well…but Chennaites, beware and take care!

Are our gods deaf?

I am hardly religious but at the same time neither I am an atheist. I believe in god – but the association of god with religion, traditions and superstitions is something I am really very wary of.

Okay, with this clarification out of the way now, let me proceed with what has been really pissing me off for some time now.

Blaring music on loud speakers at all odd hours of the day and night is very much a part of our being, in India. We consider it our birth right and our obligatory duty to broadcast our happiness, sorrow, loyalties, anything and everything at “high volume”. From the 'baraats' in the wedding season in the crowded residential streets to the DJ 'dandiya' nights in the neighborhood apartments, the first birthday celebration of the neighbor’s kid next door, and the 'jagaratas' and 'satsangs' in the community spaces – noise pollution is all pervasive. Cacophony has always been synonymous with celebration.

Most of us thanked god for small mercies when the Supreme Court of India passed the landmark judgment that took baby steps toward reducing or rather containing the clamor that the so called members of the various civilized and spiritual societies were creating. You can read the details here.

As any other rule, this too has not seen a complete and absolute implementation but at least in the National Capital territory and region, we have had some respite from the menace of “loud speakers”.

Cut to Chennai – T Nagar, to be precise – 5 in the morning - for more than a month now I continue to be rudely woken up by chants of 'sabiramalai' and 'aiyappa' coming from some small temple across the road.

Though I usually crib more than an average human being, I swear to god I really don’t mind the occasional ear-splitting music on a film star’s birthday, or a politician’s death anniversary or a festival - Silence can be deafening too – I need some din around to maintain my sanity levels (however low anybody might think those to be :p).

However, the last month and a half have been terrible and intolerable. In the name of God to disrupt an entire neighborhood is ostentatious.

Are our gods hard of hearing? Are they deaf? My god isn’t and I am sure yours is not too.

I would still make some concession had it been a 'kirtan' kind of a setup where people get together and recite prayers to their gods – you know at least they were devoted enough to do that – But no, here somebody is indecent enough to put recorded songs with tunes bordering on film music on a loud speaker before the sun even decides to rise – this is not a means to connect with god but a form of community entertainment.

As an obvious reaction, I asked my FIL to complain – register a formal police complaint – after all, this is an infringement of what is laid out in the rule book. Haa! Only if our judicial system was good enough - My FIL told me that they all have tried and given up – each time they get the same response – “Why do you want to get into all this, you are educated – why do you want to go against these fanatics who will do anything in the name of religion – your complaint will spark off a class and caste war (this will make a lot of sense to people who are aware of the caste politics in Tamil Nadu); just close your windows, put cotton in your ears and ignore – why should you get your hands dirty”.

And so we, the citizens of the largest democracy in the world, put cotton wool in our ears and shut our windows and eyes, lock our houses and tongues, and continue to live, seething inside … and blogging on cyber space in a vain attempt to compensate for the actions we never take and the compromises we make.

Raindrops on roses...

The local headlines in Chennai, a city am still learning to get accustomed to and growing attached to, maybe bordering on even falling in love with, inspite of all the idiosyncrasies, read something like this:

"Heavy rains batter Chennai"; "Torrential rains flood the city"

My FIL had sounded high alert this Wednesday itself. Frankly, I hadn't been giving second thought to his warnings and words of caution simply because I was being chaperoned everyday to work and it didn't really matter how the weather was, second work pressure has been a little over the top!

However, our driver gave us the royal ditch by not turning up on both the days with the so called "torrential rains" - yesterday and today. On Friday, I was furious - I hated the auto ride, the flooded streets, the dirty wetness in the feet, the dripping umbrella, the messed up hair...

But today morning, when I got up to the sound of the turbulent downpour from the menacingly dark clouds above - spatting on us mortal with a venomous vengeance - I smiled and opened my bedroom window wide.

I lingered my gaze out for quite a long time - in that seemingly thunderous outburst was tranquility that is sometimes missing in the most silent of places, in the blurred scene there was clarity of thought.

I had to go to work but I couldn't bring myself to complain. I recalled the wonderful times when all us kids in the neighborhood used to get together and play frisbee in the rains; the joy of splashing in water is unmatched - believe me.

Anyways, I put on some good loud bollywood music (for those interested: Love aaj kal, New York and that stupid chiggy wiggy song ;)), and geared up for work. I had to take a rick, pick this colleague, who's more a friend, R, from her place and then travel to office.

When I reached the street next to my place, my first reaction was Oh my gawd!! There was almost knee-deep water on the roads, that were now transformed to rivers and u bet, I was so excited.

Water flooding our auto, R wading through the river to reach us, cars splashing water to right uptil your face - there was mayhem in the city and I was in the middle of it! I was mightily kicked - I mean c'mon, am I in a metro city or what? Though, this time I did not feel like cribbing about the infrastructure or rather the lack of it.

I always miss Kodak moments and was able to capture only one or two low resolution pics on my mobile camera. Posting one here.

The situation was much worse in the evening - it took us almost an hour to reach home and when I got off the auto I just didn't feel like opening up the umbrella - I hopped and skipped in the rain, savoring the wonderful feeling of the water drops falling on my cheeks and tiptoed home! It sounds crazy, but I feel like doing the frisbee thing or the aimless splashing around once again - there are only very few things that can salvage your soul from the chaotic depressing misery of everyday reality, and getting wet in the rain is one of them.

I love the person who wrote:

“Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain”

Happy rain dancing, everyone!

Far from the madding crowd (and any signs of civilization) - Siruseri

Yes, Siruseri - a place in the remote districts of Tamil Nadu, India and a few light years away from Chennai (that's around 40-45 kms) is my new work place. Our office recently moved to this to-be-swanky place to create it's largest IT technopark, which basically spells doom for city residents like me.
I don't care if the IT park is an architecture wonder in the making or has the famous Saravana Bhavan (a fantastic brand for yummy south indian delicacies - i love south indian food) or symbolizes the future of IT infrastructure in India and Asia - my personal problems are way too many for any of the listed reasons to compensate the inconvenience caused to many of us who travel to this place at all god forsaken hours.

Day 1 spelled the first letter of the word Disaster. Vish and I had perspired enough from 9:30 AM to 10 waiting for the company bus to arrive our stop at 9:45 (you see, we had dutifully found the routes, timings etc. but no preparation is enough to face life). Finally, when the familiar white and blue monster did show up at 10:15, the driver didn't let us in, saying in a very dismissive tone, "seat illa", tamil for "no seats". We saw another bus and decided to chase it...in true filmy ishtyle we rushed into an auto and asked the driver to follow the bus. After having chased the bus half way round the city and having caught up with it, we got the now-familiar response "seat illa". After this we went to another office to catch a shuttle at 12:30; beaten and half-dead we reached office at 2:30. The bumpiest, dustiest and the hottest ride of my life.

I must admit that even after all that we had gone thru, the sheer size of the facility amazed us; the cool and well designed interiors of the office were a delight but like I said the road to the goal did not seem worth it!

The subsequent days have been more organized with only initial settling down hiccups but the 3-4 hour travel every day, the running after buses, the tension of missing "the" bus even after standing for 30-45 minutes at a stop, the odd work hours to choose from (6:30-3:30, 2:30-10, 8-5, 11:30-8:30 and what not), the unavailability of PCs in a shift that suits you and the unavailability of buses in the time window that you have a PC make work life way too complicated.

As of now, I am in a project that provides me with the opportunity to do value-adding work, is professionally executed, has a fantastic client and an approachable management...all this does make me forget during the office hours the tryst to get to work and then get back home , but the holistic picture of life is left wanting for some more, a little here and a little there...and I hope for the best!

A journey of a thousand miles (and more) must begin with packing the first suitcase :)

Considering the amount of packing and unpacking I have been doing since the last two years, I think I should get into the movers n packers business. I have heard there's a lot of money in there :).
I love visiting new places, distant wonders, far-off foreign lands but I HATE travelling, and thus here are chronicled the woes of my travel on one of the longest routes in the world - almost 24 hours: Chicago - Frankfurt - Mumbai - Chennai; Carrier: Air India. (All times given in CST for accurate calculations ;))

And though our travel starts only at 1655 hrs on Dec 13 at Chicago ORD, here's a must-read prologue:
The journey of 24 hours - 8574 miles begins at least one week before when packing is commenced with the first suitcase. Packing, weighing, unpacking, weighing, repacking, weighing! God, how much do clothes weigh? I cannot travel light. I don't have my husband's uncanny skill of throwing everything, consolidating the bare necessities and moving on. I am emotionally attached to most of my belongings - clothes, shoes, accessories, small presents, cards, photographs, favourite mugs and the list goes one....so isn't it inhuman to ask me to pack almost two years of our lives - memories, paraphernalia et al - into four measly suitcases of 23 kgs each and two inconspicuous handbags!
Without any other option, I set out on the herculean task of packing and trashing. My husband performed the last riots of a lot of my beloved possessions and after some sulking I too reconciled to the inevitable. Curse be on those that restrict luggage across cultures and countries - what a barrier!

The travelogue:
13 Dec
0900 hrs - Schaumburg, IL: Last minute packing, weighing, cleaning the house
1030 hrs - Denny's at Schaumburg, IL: A very hearty breakfast
1200 hrs - Schaumburg, IL: Anxious rest
1400 hrs - Schaumburg, IL: Last good byes to all
1500 hrs - Schaumburg, IL: Cab arrives (we had kept ice creams in the freezer to have at the end but that never happened thanks to all the heebie-jeebbies - somebody in the leasing office had a treat that day!)
1530 hrs - Schaumburg, IL:House keys handed over to the Leasing Office
1615 hrs - ORD Airport at Chicago, IL: Lined up at the Air India check in-counter (fingers crossed that the rude european officers on duty let pass the extra 2-3 kgs!)
1630 hrs - ORD Airport at Chicago, IL: All security check-in formalities completed and begins the long boring wait for the flight.
1800 hrs - ORD Airport at Chicago, IL: Boarding delayed by 30 minutes cause the baggage belt had broken! It has to be Air India...
1900 hrs - Seated in the flight - cramped economy seats - the only saving grace it's one of those Boeing 777's
2000 hrs - Somewhere on the east coast: hot bland indian vegetarian food

14 Dec
0000 hrs - Somewhere in Europe: Stiff neck (already!!!) but lots of choices for entertainment - classic movies to the more recent ones...music, TV shows...
0315 hrs - Frankfurt, Germany: Sleepy, groggy. Jolted back to my senses when I realized I had lost the transit pass somewhere. Had to some sweet and sad smiling to the German officers (one of them was amazingly good looking) and guess what the chauvinistic gentlemen bowed and smiled back and didn't create any trouble. Thank god for godly men!
0515 hrs - Back on the flight
0700 hrs - I forget what was served - lunch or breakfast, hot or cold - I don't know. I was sick with boredom and Vish did little to help matters. He just doesn't talk. How much can I keep on talking :(.
Till this time we had been dislocated from our seats atleast four times by the guy occupying the windows seat. I hate the aisle and middle seats precisely for this reason. How many times does the guy need to releive himself...good lord!
1130 hrs - Mumbai Airport: Under construction, hot, dirty, congested and stinking. Welcome to India!
1500 hrs - Mumbai Airport: 30 minutes after boarding time no announcement of the flight. Airport officials busy managing a group of Hajis en route to Bangalore from the Middle East.
1600 hrs - Finally we get to board the flight to Chennai...the last stretch!
1830 hrs - Arrive in Chennai (Local time: 6:30 AM - 15 Dec). We lose 12 hours...what the heck!

Epilogue
Both of us are still battling with the changed environment, the body is taking time to reset to the new time zone, the olfunctory organ is getting used to the smells, the ears are trying their best to tune to the increased noise levels but the heart instantly filled with joy and warmed up at the sight of home. Nothing in the world feels like being at home :)!