Archive for June, 2009

I like I like..

Today is one of the days when I rely on writing a post like this to bring in some sunshine in my life. Here is a list of things that make me happy. As I write, I hope that thinking about so many nice things will somehow lift up my rather sagging spirits-
 
I like it when- 
1. I’m the last person to get into the lift.
2. it starts to rain the moment I enter the house after a umbrella -less walk (though getting wet in the rain is also on my list!)
3.  my daughter finishes all the broccoli in her plate without any fuss.
4.  my son sleeps through the night and lets me sleep in return. 🙂
5.  the tea made by others (also!) tastes perfect.
6. I receive long distance calls from family and friends.
7. I see 50% off on the pair of shoes that I’ve been eyeing at the mall.
8. peasant tops come into vogue just when my waistline starts disappearing.
9. I cook a nice bihari meal.
10. I can run that extra mile.
11.  the weighing scale shows a few grams lesser.
12. I get to open a nicely wrapped present knowing that it’s for me.
13. I go through some old photographs and am reminded of something new and interesting.
14. I receive a nice long e mail from a friend.
15. I write a nice long e mail to a friend.
16.  I come across a superb movie while tele surfing precisely at the time when I’m free for next two hours (very very rare).
17.  I start reading a book and discover that I don’t want it to end.
18.  I am able to remember the words to a tune that has been playing in my head for a long time.
19. the weather turns out to be perfect on the day of the picnic.
20. my hair decides to behave itself.
21. I find a dress that makes me look ‘oh-so-thin’  without making my wallet thin.
22. I reconnect with a long lost friend.
23. I receive a comment on my post.
 
These make me happy too-
21. long walks.
22. getting wet in the rain.
23. making cocktails for friends.
24. wearing sarees.
25. surprises.
26. window shopping.
27. driving on the freeway with obscenely loud music.
28. taking pictures.
29. writing a post!
 
Well,  there are many more things like -that glass of wine, that bar of dark chocolate, that piece of tiramisu, those candlelight dinners, bright red roses etc. that make me feel nice and warm. But I shall end my list here and guess what..  I’m already feeling a little bright. Quoting  KG who gave me the idea to write this post..’go ahead make your own list and gloat!’ 🙂
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Out of focus

There are these days when I’m on a declutter mode. All I want to do on that day is to declutter spaces around me. Work space, leisure area, kids room, kitchen, bathrooms, you name it. Over the weeks (actually months), I keep making these notes in my mind till the day this list refuses to accommodate another new task. Today was one such day. This list was finally transferred on a post-it and stuck to the refrigerator door with the intention of being ticked away at regular intervals. All set in my work gear, I chose to start with my little office space.

My make shift office /den is a small room with a work station, a futon and a home theatre system. I decided to start with my desk. I wondered about my junk collecting habit as I cleared and dusted it. The amount of stationary on that tiny desk of mine would put a laureate to shame. I don’t know why is it so difficult for me to resist the attraction I feel towards coloured pencils, pens, textured paper, bright post- its and all the other kind of stationary. A stationary shop makes me feel like a kid in a candy shop (please disregard any thoughts related to the song by this name).

I did a good job with my desk and moved towards the most boring and time taking task on the list. Paper Work. It was time to attend to the piles of documents that had collected over months and were sitting smug in a big cardboard box. Glimpses of neatly arranged and filed bills, medical papers, bank documents and school papers flashed through my head as I dusted off the box and opened it. I leafed through the papers and started segmenting them. Midway, I discovered some old pictures tucked away in a corner of the box. These were my first year college pictures and I was seeing them after almost a year or two. Coming across them accidentally in middle of a boring, mechanical task was like a breath of fresh air. The pictures were of a trip that a bunch of friends had taken. With a backdrop of mustard fields, our flying hair and carefree looks captured the spirit of college days. I felt like sharing the pictures with some long lost friends who I had recently connected with through Facebook. But I realised that I do not have digital copies of those pictures and in order to post them, I would need to scan them. So scanning the pictures was a new task added to my list.

Looking at the old pictures brought along a slew of memories and I contemplated giving in to this sudden urge of leafing through some old albums. The album box was in the upper closet of the same room so all I needed to do was pull a chair, climb on it, pull out the box full of albums and quickly go through them without wasting much time. I managed to convince myself. Within minutes, I was right in the middle of my most treasured possession. There were pictures of vacations taken with my parents, weddings, school and college functions and some other random stuff. My favourite amongst them, my school album had all my class photographs neatly arranged in a sequence. As I was going through this album, I was drawn to my second standard  class photograph and especially to Mrs. Sharan- my class teacher. She taught us english. I remembered how she used to roam around with a sharpener in her hand and made sure there were no blunt pencils in the class. She was also a woman with an impeccable sense of style. Her kaftans and stoles added a spacial charm to my winters. She always used to tell me not to let my mom get my hair cut. I used to love her for that but I still wonder why over so many PTA meetings, she could not manage to convince my mom that girls look prettier with ponies and not with super short boyish hairstyles.

My mother made sure that my hair was short cropped till I was in ninth standard. And then, I finally discovered that I did have a say and refused to cut my hair to that length ever again. With all these thoughts rustling in my head, I felt like talking to my mom about it and dialled her number instantly. For the umpteenth time I complained, cribbed and nagged her about the injustice she had done to me over my precious growing up years. I also told her how I’m taking special care and helping my 4 year old daughter Avi grow her hair. Then I caught up on some family gossip before hanging up.  

The moment I hung up I realised that  a big pile of papers were yet to be sorted out and there were a few more albums yet to be seen. I also realised that my shoulders and back were hurting at strategic places because of sitting on the floor in an awkward position and if I continued any more sorting of papers, I would land up with bad back pain. A bad back pain would interfere with my regular activities like playing with the kids and cooking for my family which I felt were much more important than sorting of some odd documents. I promptly put the papers back in that box where they belonged and kept the remaining three albums on the table next to my bed so that I could leaf through them at leisure. It struck me that hubby and I could go through the albums together later in the evening and that would also give me a chance to share with him some trivia related to those pictures . There was a fair amount of chance that I would be reminded of something that I haven’t yet told him about. May be a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon would aid my memory along with lubricating our conversations. Viola..here I was with the recipe of a perfect evening with my spouse who often complains of not being able to spend quality time together.

So making a task list and deciding to act upon it was not such a bad idea after all, I thought. What if there is one more task added to the list. With a promise of ticking them all off real soon, I headed towards the fridge for some dark chocolate. They say dark chocolate is good for back pain.

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The ground beneath our feet

A 330-200

A 330-200

It was an unusually sad morning for me. As I settled in front of the television to get my morning dope on the world around me, I found out about the Air France flight AF 447 that has been missing. All the news channels were flooded with stories about this missing craft, an Airbus 330-200 which was carrying 216 passengers and 12 crew members. The plane took off from Galeão Airport in Rio de Janeiro at 7:30 p.m. local time and was scheduled to arrive at Paris’s  Charles de Gaulle airport at 11:10 a.m. local time. Four hours after taking off, the aircraft was incommunicado. It reported of some electrical failure in its last contact with the base station.

 Airbus 330  is considered to be one of the safest aircraft with state of the art machinery. The pilot in this particular aircraft was very experienced with 11,000 flying hours  including 1,100 hours on Airbus 330 jets to his credit.

Picture this! The safest of aircraft being flown by the most astute pilot vanishes in thin air. Inspite of several intelligence groups at work, it cannot be traced in this day and age of technological boom. There are chances that the lives of those 228 people inside the aircraft will go totally untraced. 

It takes a lot of effort from me to accept the finality of a catastrophe like this. It leaves no room for hope or rearrangement of possibilities. Life presents itself  in a conflicting format- fragile yet devastating. No matter how many high flying charades this new age technology manages to create around us, there are times and circumstances that make us feel primeval. In times like these, I grope for my most basic of instincts that reinforce my faith in a power beyond the man-made ones. I look inwards and find beliefs to hold on to. The chances of them letting me down are certainly fewer than the sci fi paraphernalia around me.  I hope and pray that  the intelligence agencies at work are able to trace the Air France aircraft AF 447 and the lives of those 228 people who boarded it about 18 hours back.

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