A Day in Her Life

“It’s cold outside”, she said. “You might want to wear a light sweater inside the house”. She knew he could not tolerate even a slight chill and he fell sick. She had always marveled at his unfailing health in the summer but come winter and he was miserable. It was strange for a man of his size and resistance to take ill after a minor cold front.

“Did I tell you the story of my distant cousin who used to convulse every time the temperature went below 50F? Well, he just couldn’t take it. Every time he got out he would feel cold and start shivering. A few minutes later, the shivering converted into convulsing. He took care of himself though. He avoided the cold season and timed his vacations to tropical countries during winter. On one such visit, he got such a severe rash; he had to visit three doctors to finally get it to stop itching. He has never set foot in any tropical country again. The poor boy!”

She was in the mood for a cup of coffee. So she got up and laid the milk on the burner to boil. She had always liked her coffee with milk and sugar. One cup of milk, one tablespoon of coffee and one spoon sugar, this was how she preferred her coffee. The coffee maker was no good for her. That machine was for lazy, immature people who could not even boil water without burning their hands. What fun is there in drinking coffee black-no milk or sugar? It just left a bitter taste in the mouth. What with all the bitterness around, does one need the coffee to be bitter too?

“Do you want some coffee? I am making a pot right now. You seem to be drinking less and less of that these days. Have you taken a fancy for tea? I don’t prefer it but I don’t mind making it for you. It would be lovely to have tea in those new teacups I bought. Did you notice the teacups which were laid out in the shop the other day? Oh, they were so beautiful! I wish I hadn’t bought my bone-china tea set last week. Then I could have bought the ones in the shop. They were also cheaper than the ones I purchased. I always see the good thing after I have bought something else….The milk is boiling over. I’ll be right back”

By the time she reached the stove, the milk was all over the counter-top. What a mess! She hated to keep the counter-top messy. She took out a dish cloth and started wiping the surface not minding her coffee would get cold. She remembered when she was in university how her roommates and she would go after dirt in the house like hound dogs. In those days, all she had to do was study and party.

“Remember one of the roommates I had”, she said. “The one who never lifted a finger to clean anything but would be ever ready to mess up the kitchen. The dishes lying all over the place, sometimes for more than a week. She drove me insane with her habits. I knew you stayed away from my house at that time because my house was dirty always. It bothered me so much. I used to give out hints of the house being messy, the kitchen being a nightmare. But, somehow she never understood what I said. Maybe, she just wasn’t a cleanliness freak like me. She was a nice person. She just did not practice good housekeeping.” She rose to fluff the pillows in his favorite chair. She was always amazed at the unusual way he sat. The cushions were always messed up. No matter how many times she admonished him, he never changed. She smiled thinking how he was no different than the roommate.

“Do you remember the time when we had dinner at the new place in town? I can’t recall its name but it served good Chinese food. We had created such a racket there once. Was it you who challenged me? Oh no, it was my roommate I think. Yes, it was her. She made a bet with me that I cannot get a free lunch out of that place. They were just perfect in everything-the way the food was made, how it was served, the service of the place, the prices, just about everything was right with the place. I devised an evil plan where I claimed that they put meat in my vegetarian salad. Of course, they were sorry and I got that meal on the house. My roommate was furious and jealous at the same time. She was furious because I had won the bet and jealous because I got a free meal out of it. But I somehow, never liked what I did. Granted, I was young and stupid, but, what I did never seemed right. Then there was this other time, I painted mustaches on all my roommates in the night. Now, that was fun. It was hilarious to see them all in the morning. I just couldn’t stop laughing for hours. Oh, I keep remembering all the unimportant details of days gone by.”

She rose and crossed the room to close the windows. The wind was chilly and she had started shivering. She might as well start cooking. It was getting late and he might feel hungry in another hour. “So what would you like to eat today? Nothing fancy but I was planning on making some vegetables to go with rice. Does it sound good to you? I know you never have an opinion. See, now that’s something which has always bothered me. How you never voice an opinion. I have always wondered what goes on in that head of yours, because you never say. God knows, how your mother must have managed you when you were a kid.” She laid out the peas, carrots, beans and the cauliflower on the kitchen counter. She began to cut them into small pieces and pureed the tomatoes so that she could make gravy to put them into. “Last night, the neighbor’s dog was howling away for God-knows-what. I was worried it will disturb your sleep but you seemed to be sleeping like a log. I got up to get a glass of water and went outside to check what was wrong. The dog was just scared to be left alone outside. After all, it’s only a year old. I kept it company from our side of the fence for sometime. Then I started feeling cold and came inside. The dog did not seem to mind. It did not cry the whole night.” She opened the tap to rinse the vegetables. There was a loud knock at the door at that moment. She looked at the clock and knew it was the mailman then went to open the door.

“Hello ma’am. How are you today?” he asked. “I heard you were talking to somebody. Are you having company today?” “No”, she said, “I was just talking to my husband. I was telling him about my late-night adventures.” He gave her an odd look and handed her her mail. Then bidding goodbye, he left. From outside, he could hear her conversation with her husband who has been dead for nearly ten years. He shook his head and slowly moved on. Inside, she continued to do her normal routine activities like cooking for two, laying out two plates and having every-day conversations with her husband.

White wolf and the black sheep

White wolf and the black sheep
Roar in a bleat,
Tired of the rundown sighs
Blacker than the soul
Or that speck in the sky.

White wolf may be the rumour tale
But the black sheep is never there.

Moan like a pig’s last
Fleeful gleeful thought sprays
Pain is within the outside
Winding in the wistful ways.

White wolf may be the rumour tale
But the black sheep is never there.

Hocum Pocum and it goes
Fairness in the right mind
Sticks to pick
And stones to grind.

White wolf may be the rumour tale
But the black sheep is never there
White and black may grey
But the sheep no wolf will spare.

Blessed rainy day

Blessed Rainy day
Labours over, fields look fine,
golden brown ripe and ready,
skies have dried up,
Filling our sorrows,
With holy clean water,
And finally,
I am clean, really.

Early morning the sun does not rise,
Sleeps till later,
Hot steaming thup on the table,
And warm happiness in my belly.

Days are slow, minds sated,
Ways are right but not wrong,
Largely in our cluttered minds,
Come another blessed rainy day.

Doctored words

In Shantaram, the author mentions 3 things in common in good doctors -
1. They are good observers
2. They are good listeners
3. They are very tired.
Actually coming from an absolutely non medical person, he has come very close to the truth. What would be the attributes of good patient?
1. Questions - Dont know which is better. To be overly inquisitive or to not ask any questions at all. Most parents that I deal with are of the second variety. They hardly ask any questions except if the child is okay. A very common experience is after you explain about the child being very sick and critical, they would ask something very "dumb" like 'But nothing else is wrong, is it?'. I used to think only uneducated parents would fail to grasp the seriousness of the situation. But as days have gone, i have come to realize that education makes no difference. This question merely stems from the hope that the doctor would something positive. Usually most parents require to be explained everything thrice to grasp the gist of the matter. I dont know in the developed countries, where the patient load is lesser and more doctors are available, if the doctor explains everything succintly. The other depressing fact is that the parent on whom you spend the longest time and try to explain the whole disease and the expexted outcome is the one who is maximally confused. Once I told one mother around 15 times( no exxageration) in the span of one day that her child should not eat salty things like pickle and should not drink fruit juices prior to discharge. When she came back to the OPD, she told me her child was subsisting only on fruit juices and pickle. Could she give some rice atleast?
I have always resisted the temptation to tell the parent that everything is alright. Somehow to me thats a lie even if it is said with a good heart.

2. Non believers Some parents just dont trust whatever is told and would take a second, third or the nth opinion. Earlier I used to get upset at the parent. Nowadays have become more sensible and just smile and tell them my frank opinion. If it screws up their idea of what is right, doesnt bother me.

Water of love deep in the ground, but there aint no water here to be found.

Feeling very sleepy. Will continue this some other time.

taare zameen par

Just saw Taare zameen par. Phenomenal movie. A definite must watch for all.

The best diet

The absolutely best way to lose weight is to not eat. Though its a bit tough, it guarantees hundred percent weight loss. There may be a few adverse events like weakness, fatigue, ilness and fatality. But after what in life is not risky.

Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow you may DIET. DIET is short for Drastically Instituted Empty Tummy. It can be also called cure for the double chin. Interistingly a recent studt showed that diet control is the only factor which can bring down the risk of myocardial infarcts and strokes. Excercise just gets an honorary mention. So diet on, its good for you.

Ding Dong, this number is wrong.

I always used to wonder why we say "hello" when we pick up the telephone. In India, which has the 2nd highest mobile phone connections and the highest amount of time on air, its quite funny. We speak, as far as I know, around 50 languages in India. And english is only a very small minority. I know so many tamilians and hindi speaking chaps whose extent of english vocabulary starts and ends with "hello".
Hello comes in various types here. You have hellos which starts soft and end with a long "looooo". And you have 'haylow', 'hillo', 'hllo' and ofcourse 'ello'. I know one child of 15 months who doesnt say papa but says 'elo' when given a mobile phone.
Perhaps, we can change the phone custom to something more groovy like 'Ding Dong'. I will be starting a world movement for the support of ding dong. Please support me in this worthwhile cause.
Our main slogan-
Hello sounds so mellow
but Ding Dong is quite strong.

last post bombed.

Something went wrong with my last post. When I was trying to post a diagram of the Stapu "field". Anyway, now I dont feel like writing about the games we played anymore. They dont sound as interesting when described. But they were phenomenal to play. Absolute teamwork. Childhood. I used to wonder as a child if I would ever grow up. Very irrational but had serious doubts about the issue. The fact that one day i would be grown up like my parents never crossed my mind. But as things usually are, the bad things inevitably happen. One happy thing is that my work keeps me in constant touch with children. They are a continuous source of wonder and entertainment. Its amazing how a little mass of tissue which can hardly shake its head slowly starts smiling. The smile of a 4 month old is precious. They would smile at anyone who smiles at them. No prejudice. Baby, baby smile at me, but i do wonder what you see, Just trivia, but do you know that when a baby is born, he can hardly see more than 20 cms from his face. And cant understand colour. Baby,s dreams would be cubist I guess.

MCM deux

Part Deux

Chalti Chakki Dekh Kar, Diya Kabira Roye
Dui Paatan Ke Beech Mein,Sabit Bacha Na Koye

This is a couplet written by India’s greatest philosopher, Kabir. He says between two grinding stones everything gets destroyed. I think what he meant is that our mental peace is usually ruined by 2 or more grinding stones of thoughts. Quite often we try to reconcile differing streams of beliefs in to our small and rigid minds.

Jump in the line; rock your body in time. Ok I believe you!

Socrates apparently said “How much there is in the world I do not want?”
And do not need. ( my addition)

[Side note: Do you also feel that if these great fellows who wrote these great quotes had sought our advice before releasing their words for public consumption, we would have made those quotes better than they are? May be its just my megalomania.]

I wonder how these quotable quoters quote so effortlessly. It would take half my life to think up a few of them. Some of them like Socrates apparently “thought” even in their sleep. Amazing, what?

Well. Coming back to our original topic of grinding stones. I am not sure if too many of us would have seen grinding stones. They are basically 2 stones which grind together, one on the top of the other. The top one( lets call it T1) starts to put his weight on the bottom one( called T2). T2 takes the exception to taking everyone’s burden on his shoulder a starts grinding T1 back. But worst affected in their fight is the poor rice in between those stone. It gets ground. As if there is any other purpose in the rice’s life, bah.

Same way your mind and body fight with each other and screw your self as a side effect. You would argue with me saying that all of those three( mind, self and body) are ME. Yes boss, that’s true but even the small atom has divisions( some sharks or quarks). Do you really believe that such a complex existence as your living being will not have different parts to it.
Anyway, that’s all folks. Back to my carrot( and my stick) .

Amusing musty musings.

MUSINGS OF A CLUTTERED MIND I really don’t know why I am writing this. It seems to me that if my mind were able to streamline its thoughts, then I would be the greatest living genius in this world in any field of my choice. May be everybody feels this way? The entropy of my thoughts combined with the inertia of my body is the greatest obstacle to greatness. As one of the company slogans say “Tame your mind, the rest will follow.” There are times when you decide to do something and seems really great but finally thing don’t work out because of sloth. And there are times when you are busy as a bee and nothing comes out at the end. “Yesterday has been and gone, Tomorrow will I find the sun, Or will it rain.” The grasshopper was lazy but sublime genius. He realized that if lie around too long, somebody would eventually find some good in you. Don’t you think it is worth dying of starvation to do what you please? Then why study, why diligently work like oxen on the field? And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking And racing around to come up behind you again The sun is the same in the relative way, but you’re older Shorter of breath and one day closer to death. Run and run to the sun and find that you would burn. There would not be even ashes left to thrust in the dust. Just the memory of your mortal doings which were so menial in your short stay on the globe. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. Do you remember this poem? ‘The road not taken’ by Robert Frost. Do you realize that Frost never mentions what the difference. Did he become a prince or a pauper? Anyway there seems to be no regret in the tone of this flow and hence it is assumed that the road less traveled took him to greater heights. I shall be telling with a sigh, there is no difference in the difference. Ha ha ha……

Classes and more

A lot has been going on in my life recently. I am unable to make sense of a lot of these happenings. I finally enrolled for my PhD program. But the beginning itself has been shaky. I don't even want to think about the end. I know it is stupidity to question one's decision after it has been made, but, don't we all have times when we know we have taken the right decision, but circumstances just point in the opposite direction. To add to all my woes, I have joined a creative writing class. Well, the class is very interesting (at least for me). Only, it expects you to spout your creative writing in the form of poems every week. I thought of sharing piece here at the end of this post. The poem needs a lot of help but I think I am improving quite a bit. On a side note, I feel as if my whole life has come to a stagnant point. No, I don't mean it in a bad way. I somehow feel apprehensive that something is going to go wrong. I am not wasting my time thinking about what will go wrong, but it is just a kind of gut feeling I have.

Now here is a sample of the poems I write. This is a post-modernist poem. This means that the poem has no form. This kind of poetry evolved after WWII. Poets tried to make sense of the chaotic situations around them. Most of the poems of this genre don't make any sense at all. I would very much like to hear what people interpret out of mine.

“One more time”, she says,

And nine, eight….,

Why am I subjecting myself to this?

Oh please, leave me alone,

I will do whatever you tell me to

Do I have a meeting today?

When will I sit to work on that paper?

I have home works to grade too

When will I get all this done?

Oh, she has really nice shoes.

I should ask her where she got that from.

And the t-shirt is not bad too

And I am wearing a free t-shirt I got from school

When will I graduate and not be poor anymore?

“Thank you all. That will be all for today”

“You did well. Come join me again

For another great workout tomorrow”

Language barrier

I watched a number of movies and television series after submitting my thesis. I used this time to catch up on a few Tamil movies and indulge in listening to uninterrupted Tamil for a few hours. I watched quite a few of my Kamal Hassan favorites-Thevar Magan, Punnagai Mannan, Michael Madan Kama Rajan (MMKR), Nayagan to name a few. Each movie appeals to me in its own way. I just cannot say which is the best. I have watched each of these movies innumerable times. But each time I watch it, I empathize with the character in Thevar Magan and Punnagai Mannan, laugh at the antics of each of the characters in MMKR and feel sad when I watch Nayagan. I don't claim that these movies are the most well made ones. But the emotions they evoke in me remain strong from my childhood till now. Certain movies remind you of the situations in which one first viewed them, the people with whom the movie was watched and so on. All the above four movies bring back such memories for me. I am a person who tends to cry at sad movies-no, not bawling out loud, but a kind of subtle, tears dropping from my eyes and laugh, sometimes silently and sometimes loudly at all the funny parts. Should I be embarrassed about it? I don't know the answer. For people who do not understand Tamil, the movies might not be of much significance and also might not create a similar response. I tried watching a Tamil movie with a person with little to nil knowledge of the language. I explained most of the dialogues, but somehow the essence of the movie was lost. I felt, the person with me did not appreciate the movie to the extent which I enjoyed it. I don't say that every person should agree with my point of view- what I am saying here is that maybe if the person was a speaker of the language, the person would have been at a better position to like or dislike the movie. Language is a major barrier sometimes. Wouldn't the world be a better place if a universal language came into force which every person on earth comprehends and can use..Frivolous thinking?, I don't know..

Passing days

Finally, I defended and most importantly passed. But somehow, I don't feel ecstatic as I once thought I will be. I don't even feel I have achieved something. If I look at the big picture, I actually have achieved nothing, but I am not getting into that. Everyone around me seems to be more happier about my passing than I am. Is something wrong with me? Why don't I feel good about the whole thing? I feel all the more stupid, ignorant and more importantly as though I don't deserve all this. But that's just me..

On another note, a couple of days before this circus show of defense, I was getting very nervous and wanted to talk to my parents. My parents back home weren't exactly at home and were away. They assured me before they made the trip that they will keep in touch by taking the mobile phone with them AND that they have paid for the roaming charges. I kept calling them on their cell phones and just got an automated message saying their cellphone was switched off. Me in my usual self got all paranoid about what had happened to them. But, as someone once rightly told me, what can I do from afar. I called them on the landline on their day of arrival back home, all anxious about what was wrong with them. My parents very apologetically told me that they had made all arrangements to receive my call but they forgot the ultimate- the cell phone charger. Now what can one say to this..I sometimes think, what will I do when I reach my parents' age. My parents were not born in the computer age. They seem to be scared of all this technology. What will my fear be when I reach their age? Will I be able to overcome my fears so that no harm should befall my children as in the case of my parents? Will I be able to guide someone even though I feel infinitely stupid most of the times? Points to ponder, at least from my side, I think...

Acknowledging people

For the past few days, I have been busy with my thesis work and am getting ready to graduate. While writing up what all I have done is tough, the part where you have to acknowledge the people around you is not easy either. In short, I don't know who all to thank. No, I am not saying there is nobody to thank. Just that, there seem to be too many people who have helped me in this roller coaster ride. I can't name all the people in my thesis. Many of them might not even know they inspired me or were a source of strength or confidence to me. Getting one's name written in somebody's thesis might not be a big deal, after all, who is competing for an award here. But for me, I feel, that the person has thought about you, however angry they may be with you or however annoying or irritating they find you. Isn't it a form of saying thank-you, I appreciate your just being there? I might be wrong here, but somehow that's how I feel. There are many more people who were there in the whole process but I can't name everybody. This thank-you goes out to all the people who were there with me in thoughts if not in actions.

Another interesting thing I noticed..does everyone miss something/someone only after they don't have it/them or is it only me? I tend to miss people more when they are not around. I keep thinking, it would have been good to have them here. Sometimes its the situations I miss. Those times were good, I feel. Incidentally, I am listening to a song sung by "Jewel". The song goes something like this..."I am leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again..". I am a sentimental fool and I tend to cry when people leave me or I see someone off. I have grown up now so that I control myself in front of others. But when I am alone, I feel sad. Hmm..time to grow up!! But again, I never listen to my advice.

I got in touch with a few of my old friends from school recently. It felt good talking to them and I was reminded of days gone by and how I missed talking to some people. Since, I started this post with acknowledgments, rambled off to my inane thoughts let me finish this post by saying, I will remain a sentimental fool all my life. Someone will feel good someday that I thought about them.

Power plays

Everybody is questioned by someone at least once in their life. All of us learnt to take it in our stride though not many of us like it. In a workplace, the questioning tone, however mild it might be always leads to some uncomfortable moments. I am reminded of an incident when I had initially started working. There was a huge gap in the required off-site materials requirement and the on-site one in a construction project. Since I had calculated the off-site requirement, I was questioned so many times during the course of the work. Now, I am not saying I am perfect in whatever I do. But, at that time I was just a fresher starting up. There were levels of people above me. But at the time of questioning, I somehow got caught in quagmire. It was not a very pleasant experience, to put it lightly. A little bit of transparency would have helped. I never got to know the end result of the entire process as I quit the job. Many would think this as an escapist tendency. But I view it differently. If I work in a place where a number of people are involved, I am answerable to my superiors. But the incessant questioning as though I have committed a crime will never elicit a response from me. The actual culprit of the whole situation needs to be found other than killing the most available goat nearby.

I was thinking of this phase of my life as I seem to have come to a somewhat similar situation once again. I am the very end of my research work now and I have presented my work at a major conference also. But as responses start to pour in. I am being asked why there is a difference in results between one method and the next. Now, I am prepared to answer these questions, but I somehow feel very annoyed and most of all, I feel I don’t have it in me to answer questions. Criticisms, the constructive ones, I am willing to take. But why is it that, everybody doubts something different? Does something different suggest it is wrong? At one point, I felt, I will accept that what I did is wrong, and then all this would get over. But it doesn’t work this way, I guess. This is not the right attitude, I am told. Unfortunately, I too know that. But somehow, it is like being trapped in the eyepiece of a hunter’s gun. I know the shot is coming, but why not make it less painful. Once, I am in a position of power, maybe I too will become like this. But I sincerely hope, I do not ….

Coffee table discussions

I have been discussing a lot of issues with my friends for some time now. I have been told by many people that girls and guys think differently on the same issues. One of my friends tries to make this point when we get-together but due to fear of being assaulted by the girl force just keeps quiet. But all this is just for fun and the issue I was thinking about was how two different kinds of the same species have a different thought process. More importantly, how do the same types of species have some characteristics in common?

I was being constantly advised by my friends to understand certain characteristics of the other side. The main point being made is "go out for a cup of coffee", "learn how the other half thinks". But is our culture so, that a cup of coffee be not viewed with suspicious eyes? One might say, why bother about prying eyes and blabber mouths. Now, I have very little interaction with people in general and guys in particular. I do not really understand how an innocent cup of coffee from my side will be viewed by the person. What if the guy feels something which is not there? Do guys feel the same about girls too? Do they feel confused and scared too? Do they worry about society in general?

Relationships, give them any name, are so brittle. A wrong word or action or even a perception of wrong can break the thin thread which binds it. My friends advise me otherwise saying people are more understanding. But is that a chance one would wish to take? Why should one spoil a rollicking relationship for a cup of coffee?

We are so used to go out in groups that going out alone with someone somehow doesn't sound right for us. Also, somehow a place where one is all alone seems the right place to try something new. I had recently gone for a trip. An acquaintance of my friend met me there. We had a great time with no strings attached. Both of us spoke what we wanted to, went where we wanted to, together. I am not saying we have become the best of friends but the trip became more memorable to me because of a few hours spent in good company. Now, this is new for me..being in somebody's company for hours alone. I am not a great talker. I prefer to be listening to people and yes, I do like to express my opinions. But that is the extent of my talking. My time out was a good experience for me. This was a good first step for me to come out of that group ism mold.

The whole post is an experience for me. I am always embarrassed to admit many things in my life. I don't really express many things very clearly- being friendly and nice to people are few of those problems. When I have made friends, I don't want to say or do something which will be perceived differently. I have had quite a few arguments with my friends over this concept of mine..but if I have to change, it will take me time. I need all the support I get for me to change.

Of new templates and fears

I have shifted through three templates over the period of one month. I am not completely satisfied with my current one either..but for now, this will suffice. Let's see how long it will take me to get bored of this one..

Yesterday, I had quite a conversation with my friends. I am still thinking about it.What does one do to confront one's fears? More importantly, do all fears need to be confronted? Can't one lead one's life and still be afraid of a few things? People generally think that being fearful of rejection and thus not going ahead and doing something is a sign of weakness. I think it is logical that once you have been burnt you will not put your hand in the fire. Fear should not be always perceived as bad. Sometimes fear of failure spurs us to do many things which might not be possible normally. But, sometimes the fear pushes one into a corner where one is unable to think clearly or piece together coherent thoughts. When we accept the positive side of fear, why not accept its negative either...

Work and Procrastination

I don't know how many have felt this way but I have noticed that when I am the busiest, the few hours I have to myself to rest become the most boring and bring annoying thoughts into my head. I try to read a book or watch a movie but start feeling guilty about the workload piling up. So what DO I do to relax? I've been pondering over the question for quite sometime now. A few days back I had the fortune of listening to Jorge Cham (of PhD comics fame) speak. He talked about the central theme in his comic strip-procrastination. His talk was very entertaining and motivating in a very different way. All of us have shades of the comic strip characters in us- some more than the others. But I guess the idea behind what the speaker was trying to convey was that it is not wrong to be interested in other things besides work and studies. Now, I know every person knows that. But somehow, this simple concept leaves us and a stronger sense of guilt and responsibility grips us as we grow older. The enjoying part of procrastination will take a huge culture change for me to enjoy but I think it is happening slowly and steadily. Changes for the better? That we'll have to wait and watch..One of my breaks had me watching "Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind". One of those movies which one keeps thinking back again and again...I liked the idea behind the movie but mainly I liked the message conveyed.I would suggest this movie to anyone who has no aversion to movies in the genre "Romance". The movie may be labeled in that genre but it has one thinking about everything which goes on in one's life. A few other good movies I watched were Syriana and V for Vendetta (courtesy to donations of movie CD by a friend). Well, now that I have listed most of my time pass activities, I think I will end with a few of my recent thoughts. I am not in a position to control many things which happen in my life, but I have the ability to at least make remedy- that's what I am doing. Trying to remedy most of the wrongs- since the others are best left alone.

The Extra Mile

Choosing Shoes

New shoes, new shoes,
Red and pink and blue shoes.
Tell me, what would you choose,
If they'd let us buy?

Buckle shoes, bow shoes,
Pretty pointy-toe shoes,
Strappy, cappy low shoes;
Let's have some to try.

Bright shoes, white shoes,
Dandy-dance-by-night shoes,
Perhaps-a-little-tight shoes,
Like some? So would I.

BUT

Flat shoes, fat shoes,
Stump-along-like-that shoes,
Wipe-them-on-the-mat shoes,
That's the sort they'll buy.

I remember reading this poem by Frida Wolfe in one of my English readers in school when I was very young. I remember repeating this poem a lot. I had liked the poem because of its inherent beat and I could repeat it just like that without having to memorize it a lot. Also, the way the poet had described the types of shoes appealed to me as a kid, I guess. I had tried to recollect this poem but try as I might, I could not remember but the first few lines. Now, my main point in this exercise was because I had bought a new pair of formal shoes few days back. I have always had bad experiences with shoes. When it comes to shoes, I always make a mistake. Either they are too tight or they are too loose, don’t look that appealing or worse, they bite me. My predicament made my mother comment that my feet did not have the “right” shape and that even a child could buy a pair without a fuss. Now, I know she meant this in jest but I got thinking about how some kind of shoes were never meant for me. How difficult is it to say whether the shoes are good or not. Now, my point is, unless you walk a certain distance, the shoes don’t reveal their true colors literally and figuratively.

Well, I thought, I had learnt my lesson. In the shoe shop, I tried on all types of shoes as described in the poem, to avoid the mistakes I have made in the past. I finally bought a sensible pair of flat shoes for myself. At the time, I was very happy with my purchase and commended myself on my selection. Now, the day to wear them dawned bright and sunny. I took out my new shoes from their box and wore it. I was quite happy with the way they went with my clothes. As I started my long walk to school, the horror started. My new shoes were biting me!!! The shoes were not only uncomfortable to walk with; they also took off my main focus from what I was actually wearing them for. After all the effort I took in searching for the right pair, I felt disappointed that this had to happen. I just couldn’t wait to get out of my shoes and wear my comfortable sneakers. I guess I just have to reconcile with the fact that I cannot have a pair of shoes which are comfortable as well as good to look at. I feel like an idiot child who doesn’t know what she wants. But I’ve made my mistake and I have to bear with it and I admit, shoe-shopping is not for me. I too want pretty pointy, red, blue, strappy, cappy, bright, white shoes. Looks like they are not for me…I did not go that extra mile, I guess.

Musings

The only emotion which comes easily to me is anger. This does not mean that I am weak in the other areas. Its just that it takes time for me to respond to any situation in a quick manner if it does not involve anger. I always tend to have delayed reactions to everything. I can remember quite a few incidents where I could not provide the appropriate response at the right time. I still think of those incidents and try to make sense of this handicap of mine. Even now, I find myself going into a sort of delayed shock. I am not able to assimilate my thoughts and put them into words-this is my reaction to the shock. I have tried innumerable times to write about something but when the time comes, I am just not able to do it. I hope this phase of life passes away and a new one comes....I can't hurry this one- as my father says, "Everything has its time, molu".

Words desert me at my most crucial moment
I know not what to do
I feel the pain that I cannot show
I share the grief...