blue and green

After what seems like forever, I am in bed without a care! Its saturday morning and the whole weekend expands before me like a vast beach. I can play in the water or walk on the sand or collect pebbles and shells or read by the sea or make a sand castle or sit and enjoy the sea breeze or chat with friends... the options are endless. The best part about weekends is not just that they are there for us to savour but also the millions things we could do with them if we fancied. I like to think that its all about the possibilities and our abilities to pick and choose.
I have a new plant on my desk, by my window, at work. Have I mentioned I absolutely adore my window? Not everyone in my office has a desk by the window and I consider myself lucky. I may not do it at all but I like the fact that its possible for me to look out and see everyday life. The small stretch of blue sky is like a window to the mind and at times when things are going all wrong, the stretch of blue is like a magic potion helping you put things is perspective. There is life out there, there are endless possibilities and I am able to pick and choose.
Now that I have a new plant by the window, it feels like I have two friends by my side. Its amazing what a little bit of green can do to liven up your life. Why didn't a think of it before?

jodha akbar

A criminal waste of 4 precious hours of my life that will never return. Ash is gorgeous but thats pretty much all thats there to it. Can't believe we actually braved sub zero temperatures to go through that crap. For once, the commercials during the interval were actually better than the movie!

to and fro...

...from home to work, and back. Initially I was shocked by the sheer noise, the speed and the mad rush. It hits you despite your preparations to face it. Its a raw powerful jolt. Like someone's turned your brain inside out. Continuous, unending rattle.

However, this time I have survived in record time. There is a way of blocking the noise, its not easy but you have to know how to do it. Ever wondered why nobody in the underground looks at anybody? Its because mentally, in a safely guarded sub set of your network of thought, you pretend that there is nobody around but you. You pretend almost as if you are in a virtual reality game and everyone else is un-live, only there for you to dodge skillfully while you strive to reach your goal. It actually works, this robotic to and fro.

What helps a great deal the moment you can block the world out is that you can focus on what you like. I am reading Snow by Orhan Pamuk on the commute and have trouble deciding whether I am really in London or in Kars... I just love Orhan's ability to do that, make you feel like you are in Turkey while you struggle with the crowd at Waterloo.

hmmm... what would I give to be snowed in at this moment!

Day one... phew!

Day one back to work is finally over. exxxhhhaaaaaaale. The work day was good but my head feels like its been hit by a truck, arms are achy and the bed seems unusually attractive. Why is the first week back to work so miserable? I have never loved the thought of getting back home better.

Public transport in London is a big joke and the recent increase in fares for the underground and the overground transport network is not justified by any stretch of imagination. Looks to me like its getting worse by the day, the system is clearly unable to cope with the growing number of commuters. Peak hours are absolute nightmares. When an unknown woman is pressed against you, chest to chest, chin to chin, more intimately that you see yourself leaning against your husband in public, its all you can do keep yourself from asking 'what the hell am I doing here?'

The bed beckons...

Packing it in!

I don't want to miss out on a single free moment! So much has been packed into this last week out I wish I could keep this excitement going! The week's suitcase comprises of the following:
1. Lots and lots of knitting! This one has provided so much solace and comfort I can't even begin to describe it! I am back to making 15cm squares for the shaker throw from the Art of Knitting magazine. In the process, I am learning new patterns and honing my slowly growing knitting skills! Its been an absolute blessing for the cold, foggy wintery mornings!
2. Trying my hand at crochet! Literally for the first time. And it has been, how shall I put it, interesting. Not as easy as I has thought it might be, but I'm slowly figuring it out.
3. Shopping for a baby girl! Oh this one has been such a delight! This evening is a friend's baby shower. And since we know its a baby girl, its been so much fun shopping for small clothes and booties! Just skimming through all those cute things in the shops is like entering a different softer, slower, warmer world!
4. Getting the much awaited red kettle! Isn't it absolutely divine?! I am a bit crazy about kettles, I love the traditional round ones - the rounder the better!

5. Planning an even more packed weekend! Its not been easy but we have done it! We have made the weekend commencing tomorrow morning our busiest ever! Visiting and entertaining, there's going to be no time to think about Monday morning and thats the way it should be I say!

last week out

After three and a half months of being out of the workplace, I am going to contribute to the pin drop silence on the morning train into Central London by being one of the hundreds of silent office goers. I go back to work in a week's time. Lots has happened in the last three months and this is what I have learnt so far:

1. Nothing is more important than good health.

2. When your guy sees you in your worst possible moment and can only think of how he can make things better for you, he is a keeper.

3. One can always rely on one's parents. Always.

4. Things will take their own time to happen. By pushing and fretting we don't accomplish much.

5. When one laughs, one forgets pain.

6. We work to live, and not the other way round, though we often confuse this one.

7. I have finally found a women's magazine that I like. Its called Easy Living.

8. Blogging is fun. I hope I am able to continue it once its back to the grind.

my favorite spot

It is a blessing of sorts that our favorite spot is just a five minute walk from home. A and I never really decided that this was going to be our chosen spot. We just kept going back there, over and over again. I sometimes like to think that it is the spot that adopted us and not the other way round.There are 4-5 benches amidst shrubs of various varieties which cordon off the sitting area from the main road. There's an ancient lamp post which generates the dullest light ever. In summer many flowers adorn the hedge. Now that spring is on its way, tiny leaves are making their much awaited appearances.

From the benches, one can see the river a couple of steps away. This stretch of the Thames is frequented by many ducks. Some children and D enjoy feeding the ducks regularly, a habit I think needs to be reassessed as the ducks are unaware of the large quantities of bread that they happily stomach.

A and I mostly like to sit on one of our favorite benches with a bottle of cava or some beer and watch the water and the trees on the other end. Sometimes a boat passes by and the ripples on the water serve to interrupt the conversation for a while. We also enjoy watching the stars on a clear evening, or airplanes hovering about waiting for a clearance to land.

Everytime we get back home from there, we are happy people. I recommend every family should have a spot of their own to go back to over and over again, anytime they like. Its not a holiday or even a weekend getaway. Its just a tiny space that helps you clear your head, but not in the smoke and artificial lights and pretenses of a pub. And best of all, its free for the taking.

visit to the surgery

Since the cold and scratchy throat and the non-stop sniffles won't be ignored any longer, a visit to the GP was planned for this morning. Our appointment was for 9:40 am. We waited in the visitors' lounge to be called in, and then waited some more. A played with a fiesty baby who laughed everytime she looked at his face. A is walking around with a bit of a winner's smile which I am sure will get polished off in the evening when baby J cries after taking one look at him!

The wait continued up until 10:30 am by which time A's antics with the baby, A's complaining about the time and A's fussiness with the quality of magazines in the surgery were beginning to get to me in the extreme. Mercifully, Dr. W called us in and I was able to talk to someone about more pressing issues.

Or so I hoped. Apparently NHS has a policy that no patient will be attended to for more than 10 minutes. The time allocated to each patient is 10 minutes and you gotta get yourself sorted in those 600 seconds. So you can imagine my stupefied face when Dr. W said, 'Sorry we are running a little late today and so can you come back another time for your knee? I'm afraid I only have time to deal with your cold this morning.' :-O

No, I am really sorry but I am absolutely not looking forward to another session of everything that happened since morning. I appreciate the tremendous stress that the NHS is under. Does anyone appreciate what an individual has to go through to take a morning off work, wait for the mysterious NHS system to allow them to see a doc and then finally be told you can discuss the flu but not the knee pain? Is this system for real?

No wonder almost everyone I know who can afford to goes to India to get themselves medically sorted. There's something very wrong somewhere when you'd much rather spend thousands of pounds and go to India for medical attention instead of down the street to your local GP.

Sunday

Sunday is different from any other day in the week. It is also extremely unlike its weekend partner, Saturday. Its the weekend still but almost haunted by the coming week, the impending hustle and bustle of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It is difficult to plan anything eventful for the day, except perhaps a lunch, or if you are feeling adventurous a dinner. Its a day in preparation, in preparation of whats to come. It is very nearly an almost day. It could almost be everything, but only almost.

It is the same feeling you get from the movie Sunday. It is a mediocre attempt at film-making and you sense that from the very first scene. It is an effort to be different which unknowingly tows the predictable line. At the core of the story is the notorious 'date rape' pill, a subject that could have helped attempt a very interesting story line, but sadly, Sunday is not that attempt. Same for the voice-overs or dubbing of cartoon characters that the female lead of the movie, Ayesha Takia's vocation describes. Such meaty ingredients wasted with such impudence. Ayesha Takia needs some serious acting lessons and someone must tell her that she cannot for the rest of her career rely upon her disarmingly charming smile. There is more to acting than smiling prettily and her natural talent in the art is grossly inadequate.

Sunday the movie lives up to its namesake. It is an almost film, it could be a lot more, but only almost.

evening dos

Massive excitement prevailed in the house last evening in the wake of the England-Switzerland football match at Wembley. The daily walk was cancelled, dishes were left to be done later and chilled beers became unusually important. It appears to me that sometimes its not about the game, its about the collective participation in an activity, the merging with the crowd's cheers and sighs. The game is important, but slightly more significant is the individual's socialization as part of a community through the game.

Not that any of this reasoning matters to the boys. They had a jolly good time watching the match and finally seeing England overcome a few nasty scares to come out on top. I am sure Capello heaved a sigh of relief when it was all over.

Meanwhile D and I decided that we could manage some baking alongside the match. There is something about baking as against conventional cooking that makes people more eager and willing to assist. D for instance loves helping around when its about muffins and cookies and cakes. We decided to make a blueberry cake out of what was initially intended to be a mix for blueberry muffins. And it came out beautifully.

A contributed by provided the background score that comprised of screeches and yelps and other funny sounds followed by running commentary and expert opinions. Half the cake got polished off within 15 minutes of its exit from the oven. Can't wait for England's next game for some more gastronomical delights!

Off the needles

Yes, it is finally off the needles. The scarf is finished ready for your expert viewing!


It did take longer than I ever anticipated but the simple pattern was quite what was intended of it - I mean relaxing and comforting.


The boys modelled it last evening and in typical boyish fashion refused to budge from their seats while doing so! Here are some of their big bellies, lazy postures and of course, the scarf! :-)

now is...

waiting

blue

vicks

light

clogged

heavy

cold

sniffles

running water

treats

traffic

leaves

quilt

phone

shelter

hope

lemsip

honey

woollen socks

home

bravery

hesitation

love

you

stereotypes

There is so much I want to say about them but words are failing me. I read somewhere recently that if you can't say/write something then you don't really know what you are thinking. Is that really true?

During a recent party at our place, there was a very interesting-turned-heated discussion on two Indian cities - Delhi and Mumbai. The room was divided into equal number of people supporting each city. Now you know that Delhi will always be home for me and for that reason alone I love it. The problem though was that I have never truly visited Mumbai and so felt that I was in no position to comment on the city. That however was not an issue which held some of the others in the group back from trashing a city. They resorted to tried and tested stereotypes. And so Delhi is full of loud-mouthed punjabis abusing with every breath and Mumbai is full of crass and trashy slum dwellers.

This morning, my m-i-l congratulated me for some good news that had come her way regarding me. I was very keen indeed to hear this one. Apparently a friend's mum who was recently in London happened to meet my m-i-l in India and let her know that I keep my house very well. Well what a pleasantly surprising comment. But the interesting bit is yet to come. Looks like my friend's mum thinks I keep my house well and care for it because I have lived all my life in Delhi. To be honest I was exceptionally foxed with this one. No clue what to make of it. I am going to say that my friend's mum has only met women from Delhi who are pre-occupied with housekeeping. Or at least thats what she thinks all Delhi women do.

So, after thinking long and hard about this with a heavy head, a sore throat and a nasty cold, I have come to the conclusion that I have absolutely no idea what people mean when they say city X is better than city Y. Or for that matter what it means to be from a particular city. Because everyone has a different snapshot of Delhi in their minds when they talk about it. And a city is not limited by the number of snapshots each of us have, it goes beyond our capacity to see and perhaps even comprehend. There are over 14 million people living in Delhi and as far as I am concerned, there are over 14 million Delhis in each one's eyes.

And, to set the record straight, I am sure people in Mumbai also keep their houses clean! :-)