I read an article recently about someone named, say, Nirupama Raghuram*. Throughout the article, the author kept saying, "Raghuram graduated from Bangalore University, Raghuram works with the poor, Raghuram likes animals..." - Hello! It is not Raghuram who likes animals, it is Nirupama! Raghuram is probably her father or her husband. And he isn't the one who works with the poor and likes animals!
Haven't you seen this often? It makes me laugh out loud. You could refer to her as Nirupama Raghuram! Or if that makes you cross the word-limit, just say Nirupama. Or is that too informal?
This problem arises mostly with South-Indian names, where the usage of surnames is not too widespread. But since the concept of surnames is catching on, most people just affix the father's name to their names. In fact, even in the above Nirupama Raghuram example, say the article was about Akshay Raghuram. Akshay is the guy, and Raghuram is his father's name. In the article, they would say, "Raghuram likes dogs", which again is not true. It is not Raghuram, but Raghuram's son Akshay who likes dogs. So, isn't there a rule in written media, about not using surnames, but the whole name?
This brings me to another thing that I have noticed. Say this Akshay Raghuram character gets married to Sahana Subbanna. Sahana wants to change her surname after her wedding. So she takes Akshay's surname, which is Raghuram. That makes her, "Sahana Raghuram". Now, Sahana is stuck with a surname which is neither her husband's name nor her father's name - but that of her father-in-law!
Of course, nowadays, many people I know simply attach their husband's name to their surname. For example, Sahana would be Sahana Akshay.
That brings me to changing surnames. Now, what is the necessity? Ok, I won't get into that argument - it is the individual's choice. But I also feel that there are some people in particular, who should not change their surnames after marriage. My sister had a friend who was doing her post-doctorate. Many of her papers were published in respected journals. Her name was, well, a known name in those circles. She was going to get married, and mentioned to my sister that she was going to change her surname. What? Asked PeeVee. And start from scratch? Building a reputation is not that easy. Why give it all up? At least use a hyphenated surname - but no, she was adamant. PeeVee gave up. She must have her reasons!
That brings us to hyphenated surnames. i.e. Sahana in the above example would be Sahana Subbanna-Raghuram. I think these are quite cool. You retain your surname, you add your husband's surname. Great. Do let me know if this results in any major hassles!
By the way, many Akshay Raghurams have got over their "Father's name as surname-not convenient" problem, by adapting the father's ancestral village as their surname. If Raghuram hails from, say, Doddakere, Akshay calls himself Akshay Doddakere. Personally, I think these sound quite nice!
Now, you might be wondering - what has Shruthi done? Retained her surname? Used S~'s surname? Used a hyphenated surname? Well. I had it easy. S~ has the same surname as mine. No, that wasn't one of the reasons I married him. It just turned out to be a bonus, though.
There are many, many more questions that remain unanswered. As to why a child should be given only the father's name, and not the mother's name. And why a husband should not take his wife's name after they get married. I leave the historians to explain that. If one of you can explain it to me, please go ahead.
Then there is the argument - why do we need a surname? We can have another name instead of a surname. We could. For example, Sahana could be Sahana Madhuri. I have heard of some people are going in for this option too. Will it catch on? Let's watch and see!
P.S. All the above statements are made on actual observation, and about my personal opinions on them. I am in no way demeaning any choice. I respect each individual's decision to do what he or she pleases.
*All names in this post are fictitious. Any resemblance to anybody living or dead is purely coincidental.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Newness
As I give and receive new year wishes, I think - the 1st of Jan is just another day like any other. The sun rises like any other day and sets as usual. But yet, we celebrate it because it is the first day of something new. Everything seems new, whereas, it really isn't. But if you think of it, every day is new. Every moment is new.
This hits me every morning when Puttachi wakes up. She opens her eyes, looks around, and whoops and smiles as if she is seeing everybody and everything for the first time. In the soft sunlight of the morning, her bright eyes look brighter as she greets everybody with the same unbridled enthusiasm. She bounces, and dances, and gurgles and coos. She looks around every room with delight and smiles happily when she encounters her favourite things. It is as if she re-discovers everybody and everything each day and finds happiness in it.
And that fills me with cheer and I find myself looking around and saying, "Yes, Life IS Beautiful."
I wonder when we stop being like that - looking at each day, each moment as something special, and enjoying it whole-heartedly. I wonder what makes us start waking up with a yawn and grumble, "Hmph. Yet another day."
I think all of us ought to bring back the children within us.
So this year, along with joy and peace, I wish for all of you the ability to find delight in every new moment, appreciate little things, and live life completely.
Happy New Year!
This hits me every morning when Puttachi wakes up. She opens her eyes, looks around, and whoops and smiles as if she is seeing everybody and everything for the first time. In the soft sunlight of the morning, her bright eyes look brighter as she greets everybody with the same unbridled enthusiasm. She bounces, and dances, and gurgles and coos. She looks around every room with delight and smiles happily when she encounters her favourite things. It is as if she re-discovers everybody and everything each day and finds happiness in it.
And that fills me with cheer and I find myself looking around and saying, "Yes, Life IS Beautiful."
I wonder when we stop being like that - looking at each day, each moment as something special, and enjoying it whole-heartedly. I wonder what makes us start waking up with a yawn and grumble, "Hmph. Yet another day."
I think all of us ought to bring back the children within us.
So this year, along with joy and peace, I wish for all of you the ability to find delight in every new moment, appreciate little things, and live life completely.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Seven Months of Puttachi
Puttachi is uncontrollable. If she is still immobile and so uncontrollable, how on earth it is going to be once she starts moving? I cannot even start to imagine.
She hasn't yet started crawling - technically, that is. She can get at an object a metre away by some clever acrobatics, but that's about it. She gets into the standard crawling position and tries to move forward, but falls flat. But in the middle of the night, I wake up to see her in the crawling position, eyes blinking sleepily, hair falling over her face, big eyes staring at me blankly from behind the mosquito net over her crib. I giggle helplessly before I reach out for her.
Her solid feed times are totally crazy periods. She doesn't sit still, but holds me and pulls herself up. On the way, she bites my thigh, my shoulder, and if she can reach, my cheek. By the time we are done, both of us are covered from top to toe in food. I did away with bibs long ago, since they were of no use. I now need something to cover her from top to toe to protect her clothes. I'd rather change her entire clothing after every meal. Its that crazy. As for me, even an apron is not enough.
I started strapping her up in her car seat and feeding her. It is now slightly better. Only she and the car seat get dirty. I escape unscathed.
Some time ago, S~ and I were discussing the use of a high chair for Puttachi. I had said it might not be of much use, and we had suspended the discussion. But now I think it might come in use. Tie her up at one place and feed her, and perhaps allow her to eat some by herself. Do you think it will be useful, or is it just a waste? Is a car seat enough? Please chip in with your advice.
She now dances to music. A gradual shift from just enjoyment, to swaying, to actual bouncing and giggling. Delightful.
Her sleep schedules have slightly regularized. She sleeps for half an hour each in the morning and late afternoon, and for an hour or sometimes more after lunch.
Here's the funny thing - she sleeps in slots of half an hour. Half an hour, one hour, or one and a half hours. That way. If she is sleeping and I see that it is 35 minutes since she fell asleep, I know that I have 25 minutes more! Strange, huh?
Her night sleep continues to be pretty good.
She has become far more responsive and interactive. I now actually feel that she understands what I am telling her - at the basic level.
Life with Puttachi is getting better, and crazier.
She hasn't yet started crawling - technically, that is. She can get at an object a metre away by some clever acrobatics, but that's about it. She gets into the standard crawling position and tries to move forward, but falls flat. But in the middle of the night, I wake up to see her in the crawling position, eyes blinking sleepily, hair falling over her face, big eyes staring at me blankly from behind the mosquito net over her crib. I giggle helplessly before I reach out for her.
Her solid feed times are totally crazy periods. She doesn't sit still, but holds me and pulls herself up. On the way, she bites my thigh, my shoulder, and if she can reach, my cheek. By the time we are done, both of us are covered from top to toe in food. I did away with bibs long ago, since they were of no use. I now need something to cover her from top to toe to protect her clothes. I'd rather change her entire clothing after every meal. Its that crazy. As for me, even an apron is not enough.
I started strapping her up in her car seat and feeding her. It is now slightly better. Only she and the car seat get dirty. I escape unscathed.
Some time ago, S~ and I were discussing the use of a high chair for Puttachi. I had said it might not be of much use, and we had suspended the discussion. But now I think it might come in use. Tie her up at one place and feed her, and perhaps allow her to eat some by herself. Do you think it will be useful, or is it just a waste? Is a car seat enough? Please chip in with your advice.
She now dances to music. A gradual shift from just enjoyment, to swaying, to actual bouncing and giggling. Delightful.
Her sleep schedules have slightly regularized. She sleeps for half an hour each in the morning and late afternoon, and for an hour or sometimes more after lunch.
Here's the funny thing - she sleeps in slots of half an hour. Half an hour, one hour, or one and a half hours. That way. If she is sleeping and I see that it is 35 minutes since she fell asleep, I know that I have 25 minutes more! Strange, huh?
Her night sleep continues to be pretty good.
She has become far more responsive and interactive. I now actually feel that she understands what I am telling her - at the basic level.
Life with Puttachi is getting better, and crazier.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Township Tales - Sports Enthusiasts
There was a man (not in our township) - let's call him SM Sir. He was upset by the lack of stress on sports in his sons' school, and decided that he would start a sports group for children. He called it ASHA (Academy of Sports, Hobbies and Athletics). His sons' friends, and their friends joined the group, and soon, it reached our township. Since there was a lot of space for games, and we had indoor games in the Community Centre too, SM Sir started coming to the colony, and soon, he had recruited many of us into ASHA.
Some parents were hesitant, saying that it would interfere with their children's studies, but SM Sir was great at PR - he convinced everybody, and his enthusiasm was really infectious. Many of us joined. My parents were thrilled with the concept, and my sis and I needed absolutely no convincing to do - they said Yes almost immediately. There was a monthly fee for membership. I don't remember how much it was, but it was quite reasonable.
He would come to the township nearly every evening, and we played all kinds of games in the lawn. He taught us rules for all the games that we so far had just played blindly. He taught us tips, and tricks. He introduced me to Table Tennis. I hadn't even held a TT racket before he came on to the scene. And once I picked up a TT racket, I was hooked. To this day, it remains my favourite game, and I have only SM Sir to thank for it.
Besides games, he trained us in fitness. Every morning, he would expect us at a field about half a kilometer from our township. We would rise at five, drink something, get into tracksuits, and a group of us would go to the grounds, and there, he would make us warm up, and then jog round the field as much as we could. He kept an eye on each of us - he made sure that we increased the distance periodically, according to our ability.
After about an hour or hour and a half, we got back home, bathed, ate a monstrous breakfast, and then went to school. I don't remember ever being tired at school. Just very, very fresh.
This was perhaps the fittest period of my life. I was about 12 or 13. I had the stamina, I had the strength, and the energy. And the interest. I cannot believe that I rose at five every day for so many months. The mornings were beautiful. The sun rising, the birds chirping, the crisp, cold, morning air biting our cheeks, and a group of us friends, young, spirited, happy, quite sure that we were training to be the next Flo Jo.
We went on a couple of treks too, to hills around Bangalore. Those were wonderful experiences - something we had never done before. Once, we walked all the way from Malleshwaram to Kanteerava Stadium, through the greenery of Sankey Tank. We "trained" at the stadium and had a great time. After these outings, we always returned tired, but very enriched.
He also organized many events. We regularly had potluck dinners, or parties on contribution basis. We even brought out a simple, cyclostyled monthly journal for a time, where we were the writers, editors, everything.
And apart from all this, of course, we grew better and better at sports. Because of my experiences here, I got many prizes in school too. There was one year, I think the ninth standard, when I won prizes in running, relay, shot put, long jump, and TT.
I would have won in high jump too, hadn't our PT teacher insisted that I jump without my specs on. I told him a hundred times that I needed to see the bar which I would have to cross. But no. He said my specs would fall and break, and he wouldn't be held responsible. I told him that I have done all kinds of acrobatics with my specs on, but no. He refused to let me participate with my specs on. Duh. I ran and directly hit the bar instead of jumping over it. No, my eyesight wasn't, or isn't that bad. It is just that I didn't get the right perspective to plan my jump. Hmph.
Back to SM Sir. Does anything in India work without politics? Some people in the colony raised objections about the dust we kicked up playing in the lawn. So the management forbade SM Sir from coming to the colony, or some such thing. Bang. He lost out on a place where he could conduct ASHA's activities. He started having it elsewhere, many, many kilometers away. We were too young to travel so far, and going every day was out of the question.
We gradually lost touch with him. A pity. I wonder where he is now, and what he is doing. I hope ASHA is still functioning in some form or the other, and giving kids some respite from sedentary school life.
Next: Celebrations
Some parents were hesitant, saying that it would interfere with their children's studies, but SM Sir was great at PR - he convinced everybody, and his enthusiasm was really infectious. Many of us joined. My parents were thrilled with the concept, and my sis and I needed absolutely no convincing to do - they said Yes almost immediately. There was a monthly fee for membership. I don't remember how much it was, but it was quite reasonable.
He would come to the township nearly every evening, and we played all kinds of games in the lawn. He taught us rules for all the games that we so far had just played blindly. He taught us tips, and tricks. He introduced me to Table Tennis. I hadn't even held a TT racket before he came on to the scene. And once I picked up a TT racket, I was hooked. To this day, it remains my favourite game, and I have only SM Sir to thank for it.
Besides games, he trained us in fitness. Every morning, he would expect us at a field about half a kilometer from our township. We would rise at five, drink something, get into tracksuits, and a group of us would go to the grounds, and there, he would make us warm up, and then jog round the field as much as we could. He kept an eye on each of us - he made sure that we increased the distance periodically, according to our ability.
After about an hour or hour and a half, we got back home, bathed, ate a monstrous breakfast, and then went to school. I don't remember ever being tired at school. Just very, very fresh.
This was perhaps the fittest period of my life. I was about 12 or 13. I had the stamina, I had the strength, and the energy. And the interest. I cannot believe that I rose at five every day for so many months. The mornings were beautiful. The sun rising, the birds chirping, the crisp, cold, morning air biting our cheeks, and a group of us friends, young, spirited, happy, quite sure that we were training to be the next Flo Jo.
We went on a couple of treks too, to hills around Bangalore. Those were wonderful experiences - something we had never done before. Once, we walked all the way from Malleshwaram to Kanteerava Stadium, through the greenery of Sankey Tank. We "trained" at the stadium and had a great time. After these outings, we always returned tired, but very enriched.
He also organized many events. We regularly had potluck dinners, or parties on contribution basis. We even brought out a simple, cyclostyled monthly journal for a time, where we were the writers, editors, everything.
And apart from all this, of course, we grew better and better at sports. Because of my experiences here, I got many prizes in school too. There was one year, I think the ninth standard, when I won prizes in running, relay, shot put, long jump, and TT.
I would have won in high jump too, hadn't our PT teacher insisted that I jump without my specs on. I told him a hundred times that I needed to see the bar which I would have to cross. But no. He said my specs would fall and break, and he wouldn't be held responsible. I told him that I have done all kinds of acrobatics with my specs on, but no. He refused to let me participate with my specs on. Duh. I ran and directly hit the bar instead of jumping over it. No, my eyesight wasn't, or isn't that bad. It is just that I didn't get the right perspective to plan my jump. Hmph.
Back to SM Sir. Does anything in India work without politics? Some people in the colony raised objections about the dust we kicked up playing in the lawn. So the management forbade SM Sir from coming to the colony, or some such thing. Bang. He lost out on a place where he could conduct ASHA's activities. He started having it elsewhere, many, many kilometers away. We were too young to travel so far, and going every day was out of the question.
We gradually lost touch with him. A pity. I wonder where he is now, and what he is doing. I hope ASHA is still functioning in some form or the other, and giving kids some respite from sedentary school life.
Next: Celebrations
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
My sis is here!
* My sis PeeVee has come down for a visit after 1.5 years. She and Puttachi met for the first time, and they are thrilled with each other. Puttachi is in that stage where she talks to strangers from afar but bawls if they carry her. But she went to PeeVee and settled down with her as if she has known her all her life.
* PeeVee has grown 1-2 inches taller. I need you people to tell me if it is possible. For someone to grow after a certain age, after you have thought she has stopped growing. I thought people grow till they are 21 years old, but PeeVee is quite past that age. There is no doubt she has grown... she was always petite, and much shorter than I was, now she is just an inch or two shorter than I am. She bikes a lot at her school. Is that the reason?
* She has done a good amount of very thoughtful shopping, and has brought personalized gifts for the family. Amazing, with the little time and money she had!
* One of the things she has brought is a pain-relieving ointment called Bengay. Now the funny thing is that in Kannada, "Ben-gay" means "For the back". This has totally cracked me up - I can't get over it.. I keep imagining a conversation:
Person 1: Bartha angadi inda novige ointment thanni. (Please stop by the drugstore and get me a pain-relieving ointment.)
Person 2: Sari. Yavudu? (Sure. Which one?)
Person 1: Bengay.
Person 2: Gotthu ninna bennovige antha... aadre yaava brandu? (Yeah, I know it is for your sore back, but which brand?)
Person 1: Helidnalla, Bengay. (I told you, Bengay.)
Person 2: Gotthappa ben-gay antha, aadre ointment hesarenu? (I know, pa, its for your back, but what is the name of the ointment?)
Person 1: Bengay.
It could go on and on :D
* Having a good time chatting away into the night with PeeVee -- and enjoying watching PeeVee giggle over Puttachi's activities and drool over mom's cooking.
* PeeVee has grown 1-2 inches taller. I need you people to tell me if it is possible. For someone to grow after a certain age, after you have thought she has stopped growing. I thought people grow till they are 21 years old, but PeeVee is quite past that age. There is no doubt she has grown... she was always petite, and much shorter than I was, now she is just an inch or two shorter than I am. She bikes a lot at her school. Is that the reason?
* She has done a good amount of very thoughtful shopping, and has brought personalized gifts for the family. Amazing, with the little time and money she had!
* One of the things she has brought is a pain-relieving ointment called Bengay. Now the funny thing is that in Kannada, "Ben-gay" means "For the back". This has totally cracked me up - I can't get over it.. I keep imagining a conversation:
Person 1: Bartha angadi inda novige ointment thanni. (Please stop by the drugstore and get me a pain-relieving ointment.)
Person 2: Sari. Yavudu? (Sure. Which one?)
Person 1: Bengay.
Person 2: Gotthu ninna bennovige antha... aadre yaava brandu? (Yeah, I know it is for your sore back, but which brand?)
Person 1: Helidnalla, Bengay. (I told you, Bengay.)
Person 2: Gotthappa ben-gay antha, aadre ointment hesarenu? (I know, pa, its for your back, but what is the name of the ointment?)
Person 1: Bengay.
It could go on and on :D
* Having a good time chatting away into the night with PeeVee -- and enjoying watching PeeVee giggle over Puttachi's activities and drool over mom's cooking.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Spotlight Series at Blogbharti
We have started the Spotlight Series at Blogbharti, where well-known bloggers/writers have been invited to write on contemporary issues. Two essays are already up, and there are many, many more to come. Do hop over, and join in the discussion.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Township Tales - A shady hangout
There was a nice, leafy, woody area in one part of the colony which we called "C-type", after C-block, next to which this area was situated. It also happened that the house that we lived in for a major part of our stay in the colony, overlooked this area. In fact, my table was next to the window overlooking this place.
This area also housed the main water tank of the colony. We always dreamed of climbing the spiral stairway inside it, all the way to the top, but we were never "old enough" for it. This place also had the "pump room", and the vicinity of the pump room seemed to be the hangout of the electricians, plumbers, etc., who worked in the colony. In later years, the iron man of the colony, i.e. The Dhobi, put up his stand here, just underneath the passion fruit creeper, full of gorgeous passion fruit flowers.
This place formed an important part of our non-game activities. Chatting, planning, one-to-one bonding - stuff like that. My earliest memory of playing in this place was just after the rains when it was teeming with earthworms, and we used twigs to cut the earthworms in two, and watched both halves wiggle.
When we were learning about Harappa and Mohenjodaro at school, my friend (the 25-years of "best" friendship one), whom I will call Bab, and I, went to C-type, and dug the earth with stones and twigs, hoping to find "ruins". Sure enough, we found a piece of a clay pot, and a stone with a very neat shape. We were quite sure that we had unearthed some ancient ruins, and that the stone was a stone-age implement, and the clay pot was an important relic. We even named the new ruins "Bashru" ruins, and even discussed whom to contact, and how to keep this discovery a secret until we found more evidence. Later that evening, our parents brought us back to reality. :(
C-type was the picnic venue too. We would decide to have impromptu picnics, everybody would run home and bring whatever there was at home, starting from half a packet of Parle G biscuits to a couple of bananas. Or even home-made chakli or "mixture". If there was time, we would run to the house opposite the township, where they stocked Nilgiris products, and bring some snacks (I would bring Vanilla drops).
One of us would bring a mat or a bedsheet, we would spread it out, sit on it, share all our eats equally, hog, and then go back to play. Such simple pleasures, really!
And oh, since my mom's kitchen overlooked this area, she would sprinkle water at us and then hide :) I, of course, knowing my mom, would know where the water came from... my friends were left puzzling over it for a long time!
Next: Sports enthusiasts.
This area also housed the main water tank of the colony. We always dreamed of climbing the spiral stairway inside it, all the way to the top, but we were never "old enough" for it. This place also had the "pump room", and the vicinity of the pump room seemed to be the hangout of the electricians, plumbers, etc., who worked in the colony. In later years, the iron man of the colony, i.e. The Dhobi, put up his stand here, just underneath the passion fruit creeper, full of gorgeous passion fruit flowers.
This place formed an important part of our non-game activities. Chatting, planning, one-to-one bonding - stuff like that. My earliest memory of playing in this place was just after the rains when it was teeming with earthworms, and we used twigs to cut the earthworms in two, and watched both halves wiggle.
When we were learning about Harappa and Mohenjodaro at school, my friend (the 25-years of "best" friendship one), whom I will call Bab, and I, went to C-type, and dug the earth with stones and twigs, hoping to find "ruins". Sure enough, we found a piece of a clay pot, and a stone with a very neat shape. We were quite sure that we had unearthed some ancient ruins, and that the stone was a stone-age implement, and the clay pot was an important relic. We even named the new ruins "Bashru" ruins, and even discussed whom to contact, and how to keep this discovery a secret until we found more evidence. Later that evening, our parents brought us back to reality. :(
C-type was the picnic venue too. We would decide to have impromptu picnics, everybody would run home and bring whatever there was at home, starting from half a packet of Parle G biscuits to a couple of bananas. Or even home-made chakli or "mixture". If there was time, we would run to the house opposite the township, where they stocked Nilgiris products, and bring some snacks (I would bring Vanilla drops).
One of us would bring a mat or a bedsheet, we would spread it out, sit on it, share all our eats equally, hog, and then go back to play. Such simple pleasures, really!
And oh, since my mom's kitchen overlooked this area, she would sprinkle water at us and then hide :) I, of course, knowing my mom, would know where the water came from... my friends were left puzzling over it for a long time!
Next: Sports enthusiasts.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Township Tales - Playtime in the Lawn
One fine day, we woke up in the morning to see that our lawn had new guests. A slide, a merry-go-round, an "A" monkey ladder, and a round monkey ladder. We watched with bated breath as they affixed it to the ground with cement. We couldn't wait to try them out, but no - they had to be painted. So, painted they were. And they told us that we could play on them in the evening.
I haven't seen such a turn out before that or ever since. All the kids in the colony were out in full force that evening. There were queues to play each game. Come to think of it, we were pretty decent kids - we queued up, didn't push each other - quite a feat for kids so young, I must say. The paint hadn't dried yet, but we were least bothered. By the way, the frock I had worn that day bore the stains of wet paint forever.
As time passed, the attraction faded. But they were still special. The slide was the favourite. We never climbed the slide from the steps. It was usually from the slope that we climbed, and slid back again. Even the sliding was not done sitting decently on our bottoms. We slid lying down on our backs, on our tummies, on our tummies head first, on our backs head first, running down instead of sliding.... you name it, we did it.
Then we started climbing the slide from the supporting poles at the sides. Have you seen these men climb coconut trees? Just like that. One of my school friends had visited me once, and she saw me climb up the slide from the side, like a monkey. She was shocked and thrilled at the same time. The goody-goody Shruthi, who is neat and quiet and does her homework regularly - is actually a monkey! My friend had gone to school and spread the word. By being a monkey, I had become just that much more human!
There was this kid who loved to climb the slide and then pee down the slope from top of it. Yeah. Yuck. And invariably, after he did this, someone would carry mud up and pour it down the slide, so that there were streaks of mud down the slope. Till today, I don't know who washed it, or whether it was washed at all, but after a few hours, it would be shiny clean, and then, ensuring that someone else has slid down it before us, we would follow suit.
The merry-go-round was for us adventurers. Sitting on it was for kids - hmph. We would stand on it and ride it. It was this little four-seater thingy that you see in children's parks. We would bring it up to speed with our feet, and then we would stand while it was turning. If we leaned backwards completely, it would slow down. The moment we leaned forward, towards the center, it would go at dizzying speeds! Without our knowledge, we were imbibing physics ;) In hindsight, it was a pretty dangerous thing we did.. but we were never scared!
The "A" monkey ladder was, you guessed it, shaped like an "A". We would sit at the apex and discuss "important" issues. And kick with our feet those who came to eavesdrop by sitting on the horizontal bar of the A.
The "O" monkey ladder was by far, the least popular. It was shaped like an O, sort of, if you looked at it from atop. We devised some game that saw us all inside it, and the "Out" person was outside and had to catch us by putting her hand in and trying to touch us. Dangerous game, I got hurt very often during this game.
Do you remember this programme called "Alpha Plus" on television? It was a sort of competition that tested physical and mental skills. First there was a military kind of race, where the participants had to climb nets, jump walls, hang on ropes - that kind of thing, and the second part was a kind of quiz. Well, we adapted it to suit us. We would note the time taken by each one of us to climb the slide, slide down, run to the merry-go-round, go two rounds of it, go in and out of the "O" monkey ladder, and then cross the "A" monkey ladder, and reach the starting point, and the quickest person was the winner.
For some reason, writing this reminded me of the bottle-brush tree, with the spiked leaves, and red flowers shaped like the brushes used to clean bottles with - the tree with a unique smell. I had even forgotten this tree! Phew! why did I remember this? Was it our starting point for Alpha Plus? Perhaps. I don't remember. Strange are the ways of the brain.
Next: A leafy area in the township.
I haven't seen such a turn out before that or ever since. All the kids in the colony were out in full force that evening. There were queues to play each game. Come to think of it, we were pretty decent kids - we queued up, didn't push each other - quite a feat for kids so young, I must say. The paint hadn't dried yet, but we were least bothered. By the way, the frock I had worn that day bore the stains of wet paint forever.
As time passed, the attraction faded. But they were still special. The slide was the favourite. We never climbed the slide from the steps. It was usually from the slope that we climbed, and slid back again. Even the sliding was not done sitting decently on our bottoms. We slid lying down on our backs, on our tummies, on our tummies head first, on our backs head first, running down instead of sliding.... you name it, we did it.
Then we started climbing the slide from the supporting poles at the sides. Have you seen these men climb coconut trees? Just like that. One of my school friends had visited me once, and she saw me climb up the slide from the side, like a monkey. She was shocked and thrilled at the same time. The goody-goody Shruthi, who is neat and quiet and does her homework regularly - is actually a monkey! My friend had gone to school and spread the word. By being a monkey, I had become just that much more human!
There was this kid who loved to climb the slide and then pee down the slope from top of it. Yeah. Yuck. And invariably, after he did this, someone would carry mud up and pour it down the slide, so that there were streaks of mud down the slope. Till today, I don't know who washed it, or whether it was washed at all, but after a few hours, it would be shiny clean, and then, ensuring that someone else has slid down it before us, we would follow suit.
The merry-go-round was for us adventurers. Sitting on it was for kids - hmph. We would stand on it and ride it. It was this little four-seater thingy that you see in children's parks. We would bring it up to speed with our feet, and then we would stand while it was turning. If we leaned backwards completely, it would slow down. The moment we leaned forward, towards the center, it would go at dizzying speeds! Without our knowledge, we were imbibing physics ;) In hindsight, it was a pretty dangerous thing we did.. but we were never scared!
The "A" monkey ladder was, you guessed it, shaped like an "A". We would sit at the apex and discuss "important" issues. And kick with our feet those who came to eavesdrop by sitting on the horizontal bar of the A.
The "O" monkey ladder was by far, the least popular. It was shaped like an O, sort of, if you looked at it from atop. We devised some game that saw us all inside it, and the "Out" person was outside and had to catch us by putting her hand in and trying to touch us. Dangerous game, I got hurt very often during this game.
Do you remember this programme called "Alpha Plus" on television? It was a sort of competition that tested physical and mental skills. First there was a military kind of race, where the participants had to climb nets, jump walls, hang on ropes - that kind of thing, and the second part was a kind of quiz. Well, we adapted it to suit us. We would note the time taken by each one of us to climb the slide, slide down, run to the merry-go-round, go two rounds of it, go in and out of the "O" monkey ladder, and then cross the "A" monkey ladder, and reach the starting point, and the quickest person was the winner.
For some reason, writing this reminded me of the bottle-brush tree, with the spiked leaves, and red flowers shaped like the brushes used to clean bottles with - the tree with a unique smell. I had even forgotten this tree! Phew! why did I remember this? Was it our starting point for Alpha Plus? Perhaps. I don't remember. Strange are the ways of the brain.
Next: A leafy area in the township.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Signs
You know that you have been married for a long time, when - When a movie is mentioned, you no longer ask your spouse, "Have you watched it?" but "Have we watched it?"
P.S. It is also a sign that you are getting old and losing your memory.
P.P.S. - Thanks for all your wishes. Puttachi and I are doing much better.
P.S. It is also a sign that you are getting old and losing your memory.
P.P.S. - Thanks for all your wishes. Puttachi and I are doing much better.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
The Tooth
Yes, Puttachi is sprouting a tooth. So far, it can only be felt (rubbing her gums with a finger), and heard (when she rubs her gums against the spoon when I try and feed her). But it hasn't been sighted yet, one - because it seems to have only just emerged, and two - you are lucky if she opens her mouth for you to peep in!
On one hand, I am excited about the new arrival, but on the other hand, I am going to miss her toothless smile.
In other news, it has been a very sick week. I will spare you the details, but Puttachi is only just getting okay, and I am still quite bad. I grab every spare moment and use it to sleep, and hence the slowdown in posting.
I will be back soon.
On one hand, I am excited about the new arrival, but on the other hand, I am going to miss her toothless smile.
In other news, it has been a very sick week. I will spare you the details, but Puttachi is only just getting okay, and I am still quite bad. I grab every spare moment and use it to sleep, and hence the slowdown in posting.
I will be back soon.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Township Tales - Fads
Kids - impressionable, to say the least.
Remember the series on Jesse Owens and Nadia Comaneci, aired on TV? After the Jesse Owens series, out came our shorts and running shoes, and we ran and "trained" morning till evening. We played long jump, high jump, sprinted, marathoned, and what have you.
But the Nadia Comaneci series drove us crazier. Overnight, we turned into gymnasts. We were pretty convinced that by the year 2000, one of us would be India's Olympic gold medallist. We cartwheeled day in and day out. There were bars in the car shed, on which we hung and swung, and tried to perform great feats. We ended up with calloused palms, and nothing else to show for all our efforts. This fad died out as suddenly as it had begun.
Then there was this period when Tennis was a craze, but we had only a Badminton court. So we named ourselves after Tennis players and played Badminton. I was Jennifer Capriati, for some unknown reason. My sister had to be Steffi Graf. She was Steffi's greatest fan on earth at that time. She even had a lifesize poster of hers hanging in the room. This fad also passed quite quickly.
Then one of us got a cycle. Overnight, all of us had acquired cycles. We learnt cycling, fell, bruised ourselves, and then once we had the hang of it, we cycled all around the lawn, on the main road, other roads, hit each other, gave each other "Dubs" (pillion rides).
I had a problem - I couldn't get down gracefully from a cycle. I would brake, and then jump. In hindsight, I must have looked like a clown. But back then, I didn't understand why the boys would wait and watch me until I got down and then burst into laughter. Many days I went home in tears. I have no idea when I learnt to get down gracefully, but I did, pretty soon.
Oh, a word about my Avon cycle. My dad and I went to buy it in a street off Commercial Street, and ate at Woody's while it was being set up for me. I chose a green cycle. 700 rupees. Not your ordinary olive or bottle green cycle. It was a light green, which faded into white. It was very unique, and to think of it, funny. No wonder my father asked me half a dozen times - "Are you sure?" But in my eyes it was beautiful. Unique. Rare. It couldn't be missed. I didn't have to, like others, look for my cycle in the cycle stand. It just stood out. Even after I started taking it to school, I had no problems like the others - "I have parked it near the third pillar, blah blah". I would walk straight to it. Perhaps the others used my cycle to mark theirs - "I have parked it near the green cycle" - who knows!
And then it was skating season. Somebody got roller skates. And then all of us got roller skates. I bought mine at Olympic Sports shop next to Mac Fast Food on Church Street, off Brigade Road. 140 rupees. Mine had rubber wheels. Ahem ahem. Which didn't harm the surface skated on.
We skated mostly in the community center. I don't remember the learning process at all, but I seem to have picked it up pretty soon. We did nothing but skate all evening.
But I had gone crazy. Skating had taken over my life. I wore it all day long, and I mean all day long. I would have even gone to school skating if it had been allowed (I anyway used to get dreams that I was skating in the school corridors after school hours). My addiction was so bad that I never walked at home for a long time. I only skated. I wore skates while doing homework, while eating, drinking.
I even wore skates to the Indian-style toilet once. Really. Just to prove a point to myself. My mom told me repeatedly - don't lock the door, Shruthi. Careful, Careful. She stood outside, wringing her hands, waiting for the crash and the cry for help. It never came. I came outside, triumphant. I even washed the skates, because they had been in the toilet.
Another time, there were guests, and since I loved to serve tea in a tray, my mom made the tea and asked me to bring it out and serve. She had forgotten that I was wearing skates. I skated into the kitchen, picked up the large tray, with about ten cups of steaming tea, and skated into the living room, pushing the curtains aside with my elbows. The gathering fell silent. They held their breaths as I served them tea - one by one, one by one... only after the last cup was safely in the hands of the last guest, did everybody breathe.
Even now, I rate skating as one of the greatest joys of life.
Next: The Lawn
Remember the series on Jesse Owens and Nadia Comaneci, aired on TV? After the Jesse Owens series, out came our shorts and running shoes, and we ran and "trained" morning till evening. We played long jump, high jump, sprinted, marathoned, and what have you.
But the Nadia Comaneci series drove us crazier. Overnight, we turned into gymnasts. We were pretty convinced that by the year 2000, one of us would be India's Olympic gold medallist. We cartwheeled day in and day out. There were bars in the car shed, on which we hung and swung, and tried to perform great feats. We ended up with calloused palms, and nothing else to show for all our efforts. This fad died out as suddenly as it had begun.
Then there was this period when Tennis was a craze, but we had only a Badminton court. So we named ourselves after Tennis players and played Badminton. I was Jennifer Capriati, for some unknown reason. My sister had to be Steffi Graf. She was Steffi's greatest fan on earth at that time. She even had a lifesize poster of hers hanging in the room. This fad also passed quite quickly.
Then one of us got a cycle. Overnight, all of us had acquired cycles. We learnt cycling, fell, bruised ourselves, and then once we had the hang of it, we cycled all around the lawn, on the main road, other roads, hit each other, gave each other "Dubs" (pillion rides).
I had a problem - I couldn't get down gracefully from a cycle. I would brake, and then jump. In hindsight, I must have looked like a clown. But back then, I didn't understand why the boys would wait and watch me until I got down and then burst into laughter. Many days I went home in tears. I have no idea when I learnt to get down gracefully, but I did, pretty soon.
Oh, a word about my Avon cycle. My dad and I went to buy it in a street off Commercial Street, and ate at Woody's while it was being set up for me. I chose a green cycle. 700 rupees. Not your ordinary olive or bottle green cycle. It was a light green, which faded into white. It was very unique, and to think of it, funny. No wonder my father asked me half a dozen times - "Are you sure?" But in my eyes it was beautiful. Unique. Rare. It couldn't be missed. I didn't have to, like others, look for my cycle in the cycle stand. It just stood out. Even after I started taking it to school, I had no problems like the others - "I have parked it near the third pillar, blah blah". I would walk straight to it. Perhaps the others used my cycle to mark theirs - "I have parked it near the green cycle" - who knows!
And then it was skating season. Somebody got roller skates. And then all of us got roller skates. I bought mine at Olympic Sports shop next to Mac Fast Food on Church Street, off Brigade Road. 140 rupees. Mine had rubber wheels. Ahem ahem. Which didn't harm the surface skated on.
We skated mostly in the community center. I don't remember the learning process at all, but I seem to have picked it up pretty soon. We did nothing but skate all evening.
But I had gone crazy. Skating had taken over my life. I wore it all day long, and I mean all day long. I would have even gone to school skating if it had been allowed (I anyway used to get dreams that I was skating in the school corridors after school hours). My addiction was so bad that I never walked at home for a long time. I only skated. I wore skates while doing homework, while eating, drinking.
I even wore skates to the Indian-style toilet once. Really. Just to prove a point to myself. My mom told me repeatedly - don't lock the door, Shruthi. Careful, Careful. She stood outside, wringing her hands, waiting for the crash and the cry for help. It never came. I came outside, triumphant. I even washed the skates, because they had been in the toilet.
Another time, there were guests, and since I loved to serve tea in a tray, my mom made the tea and asked me to bring it out and serve. She had forgotten that I was wearing skates. I skated into the kitchen, picked up the large tray, with about ten cups of steaming tea, and skated into the living room, pushing the curtains aside with my elbows. The gathering fell silent. They held their breaths as I served them tea - one by one, one by one... only after the last cup was safely in the hands of the last guest, did everybody breathe.
Even now, I rate skating as one of the greatest joys of life.
Next: The Lawn
Monday, November 26, 2007
Township Tales - Games we played.
We were a lot of us in the colony, and there was hardly a boring moment. We played a huge variety of games, adding and subtracting rules, making variations - never ever tiring of it.
Running and Catching - Of course, the old favourite. And we played it with many variations.
Sudden Touch - where, the moment you are caught, you lash out and touch the person again, and she is out again, and then she touches you immediately, and you are out, and this could go on unless one of you dodges your way to safety.
Short chain, where you are safe if you hold on to someone else when the person who is "Out" comes to catch you. Long Chain - When the "Out" person catches you, you join hands with her, and together catch the others. Then you catch the third person, and the three of you go as a chain to catch the others.
Lock and Key - When somebody comes to catch you, you say "Lock", and you are Locked, she cannot catch you. But you remain "Locked" until someone else comes and touches you and says, "Key".
Tree Tree - We had lots of trees in the Lawn, and in this game, all of us gather at one tree, and the "Out" person names a tree, to which you have to run without getting caught. You are safe as long as you are in contact with any tree on the way, or in contact with a person who is in contact with a tree. We even had names for the trees - Fatty, Thinny, and so on. By the time I left the township, Thinny was very fat indeed!
We played variations of Tree Tree too - Pole Pole, Bush Bush, and when our dads bought cars - Car Car.
Then there was my pet hate - Hide and Seek. The problem with this game was that if you were "Out", you go around the colony looking for hidden people, and you have to find every single one of them. But before you found a person, if he jumped out at you and hit you on the back and says "Dubba!" you have to go back to be out. When I was Out, I was always Dubbafied. Along with that insult of being Dubbafied, was the physical hurt - my back stinging with the resounding slap of Dubba. So whenever I was out, I used to wait until everybody hid, then run back home and curl up with a book. And then my friends would come looking for me. Ha! Some kind of indescribable joy that was! I then decided that it would be kinder to just not join in the game!
There were other girlie games, that involved a lot of clapping and hitting shoulders and thighs and chanting stuff. I think I enjoyed them. There were other Statue games, where you shouldn't move or you are Out. These were for hot afternoons.
There were other games - variations of Dog and the Bone, and something called Crocodile Crocodile which involved colours.... we also played Kuntebille (hopscotch) quite a bit - with a small piece of asbestos sheet that we called "baccha".
Badminton was another favourite. We would emerge with our rackets, and since there were so many of us, but only one shuttlecock, we didn't play matches, as they would take long. We played a kind of Round Robin game, where you have to stop playing if the Shuttlecock hits your racquet and falls in your own court, and another girl takes your place, and so on.
But invariably, the shuttlecock would get stuck in the jacaranda tree. Then we would waste half the time trying to retrieve the shuttlecock. We would throw one chappal into the tree. The shuttlecock would come down, and the chappal would get stuck. So we would throw the second chappal, and - you guessed it - the second chappal would get stuck and the first would come down. After a lot of effort, we got all our belongings down, along with a shower of pretty mauve jacaranda flowers, and then the game would continue.
We played a unique game of football - boys vs girls. Our Lawn had a waist-length hedge. The gap in the hedge on opposite sides of the lawn were the goals. The moment football was announced, my friend Su would run home and come back in an old Jari Langa(traditional silk long skirt, with a zari border). She would be the goalkeeper, and would stand at the goal, and spread her legs wide, so that the skirt was stretched taut, and covered the entire goal. Any prospective goal was foiled by the ball bouncing back promptly from her skirt. The girls always won. The boys protested. "Not fair. Su is wearing a langa." We would chorus, "If you want, you also wear and come, who asked you not to?" And then we would roar with laughter. The boys would fall silent. After a while,they stopped playing football with us, what a pity.
We played cricket sometimes. My knowledge of cricket was even worse then, than it is now. Despite being in the batting team, I would field, and I once accused the umpire of not taking a catch. Well. I was that bad. But I could hit a mean sixer. And that was perhaps the sole reason they took me into their teams. And no, I haven't broken any windows.
Next: Fads
Running and Catching - Of course, the old favourite. And we played it with many variations.
Sudden Touch - where, the moment you are caught, you lash out and touch the person again, and she is out again, and then she touches you immediately, and you are out, and this could go on unless one of you dodges your way to safety.
Short chain, where you are safe if you hold on to someone else when the person who is "Out" comes to catch you. Long Chain - When the "Out" person catches you, you join hands with her, and together catch the others. Then you catch the third person, and the three of you go as a chain to catch the others.
Lock and Key - When somebody comes to catch you, you say "Lock", and you are Locked, she cannot catch you. But you remain "Locked" until someone else comes and touches you and says, "Key".
Tree Tree - We had lots of trees in the Lawn, and in this game, all of us gather at one tree, and the "Out" person names a tree, to which you have to run without getting caught. You are safe as long as you are in contact with any tree on the way, or in contact with a person who is in contact with a tree. We even had names for the trees - Fatty, Thinny, and so on. By the time I left the township, Thinny was very fat indeed!
We played variations of Tree Tree too - Pole Pole, Bush Bush, and when our dads bought cars - Car Car.
Then there was my pet hate - Hide and Seek. The problem with this game was that if you were "Out", you go around the colony looking for hidden people, and you have to find every single one of them. But before you found a person, if he jumped out at you and hit you on the back and says "Dubba!" you have to go back to be out. When I was Out, I was always Dubbafied. Along with that insult of being Dubbafied, was the physical hurt - my back stinging with the resounding slap of Dubba. So whenever I was out, I used to wait until everybody hid, then run back home and curl up with a book. And then my friends would come looking for me. Ha! Some kind of indescribable joy that was! I then decided that it would be kinder to just not join in the game!
There were other girlie games, that involved a lot of clapping and hitting shoulders and thighs and chanting stuff. I think I enjoyed them. There were other Statue games, where you shouldn't move or you are Out. These were for hot afternoons.
There were other games - variations of Dog and the Bone, and something called Crocodile Crocodile which involved colours.... we also played Kuntebille (hopscotch) quite a bit - with a small piece of asbestos sheet that we called "baccha".
Badminton was another favourite. We would emerge with our rackets, and since there were so many of us, but only one shuttlecock, we didn't play matches, as they would take long. We played a kind of Round Robin game, where you have to stop playing if the Shuttlecock hits your racquet and falls in your own court, and another girl takes your place, and so on.
But invariably, the shuttlecock would get stuck in the jacaranda tree. Then we would waste half the time trying to retrieve the shuttlecock. We would throw one chappal into the tree. The shuttlecock would come down, and the chappal would get stuck. So we would throw the second chappal, and - you guessed it - the second chappal would get stuck and the first would come down. After a lot of effort, we got all our belongings down, along with a shower of pretty mauve jacaranda flowers, and then the game would continue.
We played a unique game of football - boys vs girls. Our Lawn had a waist-length hedge. The gap in the hedge on opposite sides of the lawn were the goals. The moment football was announced, my friend Su would run home and come back in an old Jari Langa(traditional silk long skirt, with a zari border). She would be the goalkeeper, and would stand at the goal, and spread her legs wide, so that the skirt was stretched taut, and covered the entire goal. Any prospective goal was foiled by the ball bouncing back promptly from her skirt. The girls always won. The boys protested. "Not fair. Su is wearing a langa." We would chorus, "If you want, you also wear and come, who asked you not to?" And then we would roar with laughter. The boys would fall silent. After a while,they stopped playing football with us, what a pity.
We played cricket sometimes. My knowledge of cricket was even worse then, than it is now. Despite being in the batting team, I would field, and I once accused the umpire of not taking a catch. Well. I was that bad. But I could hit a mean sixer. And that was perhaps the sole reason they took me into their teams. And no, I haven't broken any windows.
Next: Fads
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Akashvani Sangeet Sammelan 2007
I am overwhelmed by the mails requesting me to put up the Akashvani Sangeet Sammelan schedule for this year, like I did last year. I am still looking for it. If I find it, I will put it up here. Please watch this space.
Btw, it started yesterday. Tune in to your local station every weeknight at 10 pm, and at 9 30 pm on weekends.
Enjoy.
Update on 29th Nov 2007 - I got the schedule, and here it is. Thanks to Dr. H.R.Krishnamurthy, (Dy. Director General, Prasar Bharati (South Zone), All India Radio, Bangalore), who promptly sent the schedule to my parents.
Shri S.K.Dasgupta, Sarod (on 14th Dec) is a close family friend. My father learnt from him (Hawaiian Guitar) many many years ago. They were colleagues and remain good friends to this day.
Btw, it started yesterday. Tune in to your local station every weeknight at 10 pm, and at 9 30 pm on weekends.
Enjoy.
Update on 29th Nov 2007 - I got the schedule, and here it is. Thanks to Dr. H.R.Krishnamurthy, (Dy. Director General, Prasar Bharati (South Zone), All India Radio, Bangalore), who promptly sent the schedule to my parents.
| Date | Time | Artist | Details |
| 29th Nov 2007 | 10 pm | Jayaprada Ramamurthy | Flute |
| 30th Nov | 10 pm | Prof Ritwik Sanyal | Dhrupad Dhamar |
| 1st Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Charumati Ramachandran | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Haridwaramangalam A.K.Palanivel | Thavil |
| 2nd Dec – Sun | 10 am | Kailash Sharma | Flute |
|
| 11 am | Debashish Dey | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | Vid Poornima Chaudhuri | Thumri-Dadra |
|
| 10 30 pm | Faiyaz Khan | Tabla Solo |
| 4th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Pt. Giriraj | Sitar |
| 5th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Seetakadu T.G.Murugavel | Nagaswaram |
| 6th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Shubha Mudgal | Vocal |
| 7th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | A.Ananthapadmanabhan | Veena |
| 8th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Pt.Vishwamohan Bhatt | Guitar |
| 9th Dec – Sun | 10 am | Pankaj Kumar Banerji | Flute |
|
| 11 am | Dr. Kumar Das | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | D.Sheshachari and D.Raghavachari (Hyderabad Brothers) | Vocal Duet |
| 10th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Keka Mukherjee | Sitar |
| 11th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Dr. K.Vageesh | Vocal |
| 12th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Santosh Kumar Mishra | Sarangi |
| 13th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Suguna Purushottam | Vocal |
| 14th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | S.K.Dasgupta | Sarod |
| 15th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Palai C.K.Ramachandran | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Srimushanam V. Rajarao | Mridangam Solo |
| 16th Dec – Sun | 10 am | Sriram Umdekar | Sitar |
|
| 11 am | Meeta Pandit | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | Premkumar Mallik | Dhrupad Dhamar |
|
| 10 30 pm | Pt. Madanmohan Upadhyay | Tabla Solo |
| 17th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Dr C.A.Sridhar | Flute |
| 18th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Manojit Mallik | Vocal |
| 19th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Prof R.Vishweshwaran | Veena |
| 20th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Padma Talwalkar | Vocal |
| 21st Dec – Fri | 10 pm | Satish Prakash Quamar | Shehnai |
| 22nd Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Vid. Dr.N.Rajam | Violin |
| 23rd Dec – Sun | 9 30 pm | M.S.Sheela | Vocal |
| 24th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Pushparaj Koshti | Sitar |
| 25th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Uma and Geeta | Vocal Duet |
| 26th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Satish Vyas | Santoor |
| 27th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Chengalpattu V.Muthukrishnan | Nagaswaram |
| 28th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | P.V. Ramaprasad | Vocal |
| 29th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Pt. D.K. Datar | Violin |
| 30th Dec – Sun | 9 30 pm | Mohanlal Mishra | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Anil Chowdhury | Pakhawaj Solo |
| 1st Jan 2008 – Tue | 10 pm | Naresh Malhotra | Vocal |
| 2nd Jan 2008 – Wed | 10 pm | Shyamlal Nath | Sarod |
Shri S.K.Dasgupta, Sarod (on 14th Dec) is a close family friend. My father learnt from him (Hawaiian Guitar) many many years ago. They were colleagues and remain good friends to this day.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Six months old
My sweet Puttachi,
It is impossible to believe that you are already six months old. I remember my first look at you six months ago....though you were inside me for so long, you were a stranger to me! Now, I know every whimper, every cry, every grimace, every look of yours - I can read you like a book!
Six months - half a year - You are no longer a little baby - you are my big baby now. How time has flown!
If I am asked to describe you in one word now, it would be Playful.
I love the way your eyes dance with mischief. You already steal hearts with your winning smile.
You are happiest when you are standing, holding on to somebody or something. Whenever you get any kind of support, you hurry to pull yourself up. And then once you are standing, you look around with delight, and make excited noises. You even try to take little steps with your tiny, pretty feet, holding on to somebody. No matter how sleepy, tired, hungry, bored, or weepy you are, the moment you stand, everything disappears and your face splits into a smile!
You have been sitting unsupported for about a month, and you look so much at home, as if you have been doing it every day of your life. You protest loudly if made to lie on your back for any reason at all.
When you are lying down, even if anybody says "Baa, baa" (come, come) or "Edda, edda" (Childspeak for Get up, get up) from the next room, you get hyperexcited and start banging your strong limbs all over, and lift your stomach up again and again in anticipation. It is really amusing to watch you.
Your eyes light up the moment your Papa walks into the room. It is such a pleasure to see you then (no, I am not talking about how jealous I get, though!). And when he dangles the baby carrier before you? You almost jump off the bed in your delight!
When you are playing, but are hungry, or sleepy, and if you spot me then, your whole attitude changes, you start whimpering, and look at me with a pleading look - it makes me giggle helplessly. Then your obvious pleasure when I pick you up - how lovely that is! And of course, the special smile reserved only for me - makes mommyhood even more special than it already is!
Puttachi, I know you hate to be put on your back, but really, if I could change your nappy with you standing or sitting, I would have done so. But I just cannot. So please, please, cooperate with me! If you don't wiggle so much, I can finish the job in half the time, and you can go back to your games!
Similarly, sweetheart, don't resist going to sleep. Can you play with your eyes half closed? The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and play! So please go to sleep quickly. And err... while you are at it, do take longer naps! 15 minute naps are for adults, not babies!
You are showing signs of wanting to crawl forward to get at - of all the things - a Kitkat wrapper! You foodie, you! Do you know how you lick your lips whenever you see one of us eating something, or even when you see something you know is edible? :D Of course, it is another matter that edible or not, everything finds its way into your mouth.
Puttachi, our lives have changed completely ever since you made an appearance. Life has always been beautiful, but you have more than doubled the reasons for me to smile ever since you arrived.
I assure you that Papa and I will do everything in our power to ensure that your face doesn't lose that smile. Ever.
We love you.
Yours
Amma.
It is impossible to believe that you are already six months old. I remember my first look at you six months ago....though you were inside me for so long, you were a stranger to me! Now, I know every whimper, every cry, every grimace, every look of yours - I can read you like a book!
Six months - half a year - You are no longer a little baby - you are my big baby now. How time has flown!
If I am asked to describe you in one word now, it would be Playful.
I love the way your eyes dance with mischief. You already steal hearts with your winning smile.
You are happiest when you are standing, holding on to somebody or something. Whenever you get any kind of support, you hurry to pull yourself up. And then once you are standing, you look around with delight, and make excited noises. You even try to take little steps with your tiny, pretty feet, holding on to somebody. No matter how sleepy, tired, hungry, bored, or weepy you are, the moment you stand, everything disappears and your face splits into a smile!
You have been sitting unsupported for about a month, and you look so much at home, as if you have been doing it every day of your life. You protest loudly if made to lie on your back for any reason at all.
When you are lying down, even if anybody says "Baa, baa" (come, come) or "Edda, edda" (Childspeak for Get up, get up) from the next room, you get hyperexcited and start banging your strong limbs all over, and lift your stomach up again and again in anticipation. It is really amusing to watch you.
Your eyes light up the moment your Papa walks into the room. It is such a pleasure to see you then (no, I am not talking about how jealous I get, though!). And when he dangles the baby carrier before you? You almost jump off the bed in your delight!
When you are playing, but are hungry, or sleepy, and if you spot me then, your whole attitude changes, you start whimpering, and look at me with a pleading look - it makes me giggle helplessly. Then your obvious pleasure when I pick you up - how lovely that is! And of course, the special smile reserved only for me - makes mommyhood even more special than it already is!
Puttachi, I know you hate to be put on your back, but really, if I could change your nappy with you standing or sitting, I would have done so. But I just cannot. So please, please, cooperate with me! If you don't wiggle so much, I can finish the job in half the time, and you can go back to your games!
Similarly, sweetheart, don't resist going to sleep. Can you play with your eyes half closed? The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and play! So please go to sleep quickly. And err... while you are at it, do take longer naps! 15 minute naps are for adults, not babies!
You are showing signs of wanting to crawl forward to get at - of all the things - a Kitkat wrapper! You foodie, you! Do you know how you lick your lips whenever you see one of us eating something, or even when you see something you know is edible? :D Of course, it is another matter that edible or not, everything finds its way into your mouth.
Puttachi, our lives have changed completely ever since you made an appearance. Life has always been beautiful, but you have more than doubled the reasons for me to smile ever since you arrived.
I assure you that Papa and I will do everything in our power to ensure that your face doesn't lose that smile. Ever.
We love you.
Yours
Amma.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Township Tales - Getting into Trouble
I was quite the quintessential Miss Goody-two-shoes. But what is childhood if not for the occasional rebellion? I did get into trouble sometimes.
We were not allowed to go out of the colony gates unsupervised. There was a bar at one end of the road, and a lonely Water Supply Board area on the other. So it was a strict no-no. But once, someone told us that there was construction going on somewhere on our road, and there was a huge mound of sand with CLAY! So shall we go? I went. Without permission. My heart thudded, but a sand mound was too tempting. As I sat there, playing, my luck ran out - my dad , coming back from office, spotted me. My poor dad is one of the sweetest dads ever - he has hardly ever raised his voice with us. My mom too, for that matter. But yet, I was shocked and scared beyond belief. My father didn't even react. He gave me a friendly smile and a wave and proceeded towards the township. But I cried all the way back. I went home, and my dad and mom were talking. My dad had perhaps not even thought that the event was important enough to tell my mom, they were probably talking about something else - but to my guilty mind, they were discussing what to do with me. I went right in, confessed and apologized and cried - my parents just said - Don't do it again. And I am sure, they laughed up their sleeves at me later!
There were a couple of public toilets in the colony. These stank royally. We hardly went near them. But once, my mom saw one of my friends use that toilet. She told me, "Look, that girl used that toilet - make sure you don't." So, obviously, I just HAD to. It made no sense actually. While playing outside, if I needed to use the toilet, the toilet in my home was closer than that stinking public toilet. But since it had been forbidden, I HAD to go. And I went. My mom's friend spotted me. And told my mom. When I went back home, my mom was wild with rage. "Kaal muridu kaige kodthini!" She said. (I'll break your legs and put them in your hands!) I believed her. And howled all evening. [That was the worst scolding I have got in my life from her. Really. I am a spoilt brat.]
Then there was this time when a friend told me that tamarind leaves taste as good as the fruit themselves, and so I plucked a handful of leaves (I don't recall how I could reach the leaves, though) and ate them, and puked all over myself. This time, my mom was more concerned (about my health or my stupidity, I don't know) than angry, so I was let go with just a warning.
One more. We weren't allowed to go up to the terrace of any building. The doors to the terraces of all the blocks were always locked, except that of one block, which had a separate spiral staircase from outside. Though climbing this staircase was explicitly forbidden, I had gone up once. And had been so overcome with guilt that I had come down almost immediately! I was that goody-goody. Yawn.
Oh, and here's another incident - strictly not one where I broke rules... but it is kind of unforgettable. One boundary of the colony consisted of a low parapet, on which were iron railings. Jasmine creepers hugged these railings. Once, I climbed the parapet to pick jasmine flowers, and then I jumped down. My skirt got caught on the railings, and for one moment, I dangled by my skirt. The skirt then tore, and I landed on the bed of the Jasmine plant with an undignified thump. Right on the spot where my friend Pi had buried her dead goldfish. I escaped unhurt, but the skirt was one which I loved, and it had torn so much that even my mom's magic fingers couldn't repair it satisfactorily.
Next: Games.
We were not allowed to go out of the colony gates unsupervised. There was a bar at one end of the road, and a lonely Water Supply Board area on the other. So it was a strict no-no. But once, someone told us that there was construction going on somewhere on our road, and there was a huge mound of sand with CLAY! So shall we go? I went. Without permission. My heart thudded, but a sand mound was too tempting. As I sat there, playing, my luck ran out - my dad , coming back from office, spotted me. My poor dad is one of the sweetest dads ever - he has hardly ever raised his voice with us. My mom too, for that matter. But yet, I was shocked and scared beyond belief. My father didn't even react. He gave me a friendly smile and a wave and proceeded towards the township. But I cried all the way back. I went home, and my dad and mom were talking. My dad had perhaps not even thought that the event was important enough to tell my mom, they were probably talking about something else - but to my guilty mind, they were discussing what to do with me. I went right in, confessed and apologized and cried - my parents just said - Don't do it again. And I am sure, they laughed up their sleeves at me later!
There were a couple of public toilets in the colony. These stank royally. We hardly went near them. But once, my mom saw one of my friends use that toilet. She told me, "Look, that girl used that toilet - make sure you don't." So, obviously, I just HAD to. It made no sense actually. While playing outside, if I needed to use the toilet, the toilet in my home was closer than that stinking public toilet. But since it had been forbidden, I HAD to go. And I went. My mom's friend spotted me. And told my mom. When I went back home, my mom was wild with rage. "Kaal muridu kaige kodthini!" She said. (I'll break your legs and put them in your hands!) I believed her. And howled all evening. [That was the worst scolding I have got in my life from her. Really. I am a spoilt brat.]
Then there was this time when a friend told me that tamarind leaves taste as good as the fruit themselves, and so I plucked a handful of leaves (I don't recall how I could reach the leaves, though) and ate them, and puked all over myself. This time, my mom was more concerned (about my health or my stupidity, I don't know) than angry, so I was let go with just a warning.
One more. We weren't allowed to go up to the terrace of any building. The doors to the terraces of all the blocks were always locked, except that of one block, which had a separate spiral staircase from outside. Though climbing this staircase was explicitly forbidden, I had gone up once. And had been so overcome with guilt that I had come down almost immediately! I was that goody-goody. Yawn.
Oh, and here's another incident - strictly not one where I broke rules... but it is kind of unforgettable. One boundary of the colony consisted of a low parapet, on which were iron railings. Jasmine creepers hugged these railings. Once, I climbed the parapet to pick jasmine flowers, and then I jumped down. My skirt got caught on the railings, and for one moment, I dangled by my skirt. The skirt then tore, and I landed on the bed of the Jasmine plant with an undignified thump. Right on the spot where my friend Pi had buried her dead goldfish. I escaped unhurt, but the skirt was one which I loved, and it had torn so much that even my mom's magic fingers couldn't repair it satisfactorily.
Next: Games.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Township Tales
For nearly twenty years of my life, I lived in a township in a quiet road in beautiful Malleshwaram.
Today, if I am a friendly, confident person, it is entirely due to growing up in that township. I spent my entire childhood there, and naturally, I have some wonderful, unforgettable memories. A couple of days ago, I thought, "Oh, I must write them all down - I might forget" - and naturally, my blog popped into my head. So, be prepared, I am going to subject you to some nostalgia in, I hope, a series of posts on life in the township.
I was a very shy child. When we moved into the township, I was about four years old. There were already a number of children of my age, and they would play outside every day. No matter how much my mom pushed and prodded me, I wouldn't go out to play with them. So, my mom took down from the shelves her treasure of excellent, educative board games that she had brought back with her from Germany, and she started calling those kids home on quiet afternoons to play the games with me.
I was now comfortable as I was on home ground, and slowly, as the kids became my friends, I ventured out to play with them, and soon, my mom reached a stage where she must have wondered - "why on earth did I encourage her to go out and play?" - coz I didn't want to come back home.
I grew up with those kids, and am in touch with many of them even now. There is one, among them, who has been a "best friend" right from then, until now. We will be celebrating 25 years of friendship next year. Another of them is C, a wonderful person - I know you must be reading ... I am sure you will enjoy this - you were the one who first put this thought into my head :)
Our township was a public sector colony - all our dads worked in the same place. There were 68 houses in all. There was a Community Centre, where we could play indoor games and read India Today, Filmfare and Wisdom. There was a big lawn, which was definitely a lawn in the beginning. But as it saw more and more of our games, not a single blade of grass could be seen in that poor lawn. The newcomers to the colony called it "Ground" - more appropriate. But for us, it remained the "Lawn" until the very end. This of course, was the centrestage for all our games.
There were a lot of trees in the township. There were some in the Lawn, and lots of tamarind trees behind one of the blocks. Naturally, the story was that ghosts lived there, and we would not go there after six pm even for a million bucks.
Our regular schedule during school days was - come back from school, gobble up something, do part of the homework in a flash, and out to play - and not going back until our moms had called us a hundred times, and after many, many "Amma, five minutes". Then, rest of the homework, dinner, and sleep. There was TV, in its ancient avataar, with only good old DD, but it didn't stand any chance - playing outside was far more attractive.
During holidays, we would get up, bathe, finish our breakfast, and run out to play. Then, back for lunch, sit uncomfortably still through the afternoon.. [Our moms - Don't play outside in the hot sun. We - Ok, can we play in the cold sun? Hyuk hyuk]. The moment it turned 5 pm, off we went again, and during holdays, we were allowed to go back outside after dinner (no running, though). Sometimes.
Next: Getting into trouble.
Today, if I am a friendly, confident person, it is entirely due to growing up in that township. I spent my entire childhood there, and naturally, I have some wonderful, unforgettable memories. A couple of days ago, I thought, "Oh, I must write them all down - I might forget" - and naturally, my blog popped into my head. So, be prepared, I am going to subject you to some nostalgia in, I hope, a series of posts on life in the township.
I was a very shy child. When we moved into the township, I was about four years old. There were already a number of children of my age, and they would play outside every day. No matter how much my mom pushed and prodded me, I wouldn't go out to play with them. So, my mom took down from the shelves her treasure of excellent, educative board games that she had brought back with her from Germany, and she started calling those kids home on quiet afternoons to play the games with me.
I was now comfortable as I was on home ground, and slowly, as the kids became my friends, I ventured out to play with them, and soon, my mom reached a stage where she must have wondered - "why on earth did I encourage her to go out and play?" - coz I didn't want to come back home.
I grew up with those kids, and am in touch with many of them even now. There is one, among them, who has been a "best friend" right from then, until now. We will be celebrating 25 years of friendship next year. Another of them is C, a wonderful person - I know you must be reading ... I am sure you will enjoy this - you were the one who first put this thought into my head :)
Our township was a public sector colony - all our dads worked in the same place. There were 68 houses in all. There was a Community Centre, where we could play indoor games and read India Today, Filmfare and Wisdom. There was a big lawn, which was definitely a lawn in the beginning. But as it saw more and more of our games, not a single blade of grass could be seen in that poor lawn. The newcomers to the colony called it "Ground" - more appropriate. But for us, it remained the "Lawn" until the very end. This of course, was the centrestage for all our games.
There were a lot of trees in the township. There were some in the Lawn, and lots of tamarind trees behind one of the blocks. Naturally, the story was that ghosts lived there, and we would not go there after six pm even for a million bucks.
Our regular schedule during school days was - come back from school, gobble up something, do part of the homework in a flash, and out to play - and not going back until our moms had called us a hundred times, and after many, many "Amma, five minutes". Then, rest of the homework, dinner, and sleep. There was TV, in its ancient avataar, with only good old DD, but it didn't stand any chance - playing outside was far more attractive.
During holidays, we would get up, bathe, finish our breakfast, and run out to play. Then, back for lunch, sit uncomfortably still through the afternoon.. [Our moms - Don't play outside in the hot sun. We - Ok, can we play in the cold sun? Hyuk hyuk]. The moment it turned 5 pm, off we went again, and during holdays, we were allowed to go back outside after dinner (no running, though). Sometimes.
Next: Getting into trouble.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Back..
... to the old look. Much as I liked the new look, it was just not "me".
Have you ever seen and loved a dress in a shop, bought it, and then come back home and worn it, and felt totally uncomfortable? This was exactly how I felt with the new template.
So I am back. This is boring, but this is more "me".
Am tied up with lots of things - apologies for not replying to your comments - but I am reading each one of them, do keep them coming!
Posting might be light for a few days... don't go away! :)
Have you ever seen and loved a dress in a shop, bought it, and then come back home and worn it, and felt totally uncomfortable? This was exactly how I felt with the new template.
So I am back. This is boring, but this is more "me".
Am tied up with lots of things - apologies for not replying to your comments - but I am reading each one of them, do keep them coming!
Posting might be light for a few days... don't go away! :)
Monday, November 12, 2007
The flip side!
I see that many of you are getting influenced by my baby posts, and you want to have babies too. Ok. But a warning. Not everything is roses in baby-world. It is just that I choose to write only about the positives. BUT. Since I realize that you innocent beings are getting influenced by this hunky-dory picture, I thought it was time to present the right picture before you. So here goes.
How is it, to have a baby? What does it entail? Here is a picture - of the first six months at least.
I can't remember the other points I had made in my head - coz I am sleepy and tired after a long day - and this is the only time I get online... there you go.. one more point!
So, here you have it. This is what it means to have a baby. Lots of work. No rest. Ok? Now, all of you who have been influenced by my rosy baby posts - you can stop reading now.
For the others - All these hardships are real, yes, and yet, at the end of it, you look at the innocent, trusting, delightful creature in front of you, and all that you can say is, "It's all worth it."
How is it, to have a baby? What does it entail? Here is a picture - of the first six months at least.
- Being available 24/7. No breaks. No slacking.
- Baby becomes primary, the centre of the universe. Everything and everybody revolves around it.
- Sleep? What's that?
- Having a bath in 5 minutes, with one ear on the door for the sound of the wail.
- Excellent control on bladder and bowels.
- There is no time that you don't think of baby. Even if you are away. If I leave the baby and go away for a while - to the parlour, to the shop around the corner, to the doc, to the neighbour's house or even on a small walk, I call every five minutes. "What is she doing?"
- When husband calls from office and asks, "What's my sweetheart up to?", he doesn't mean you.
- All that you seem to talk about with husband is about the baby. So, you decide, let's set aside an hour where we'll talk about something else. The hour starts now. And baby wails from the next room. Sigh.
- TV? Theatre? Movies? Concerts? What's that?
- Days seem to be a continuous haze of feeds and nappy changes.
- Endless hours of walking the baby to put her to sleep.
- Innumerable attempts at transfering baby from arms to crib without waking her up.
- And then kiss her and wake her up. Sigh.
- Excruciating back-aches from carrying the baby around.
- Before the baby, when you had to go out, all you had to do was - pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, run a comb through your hair, and you are set. Now. Try to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Find that they don't fit any more. Don trousers and a loose kurti instead. Dress the baby. Diaper. Frock. Light jacket. Booties. Check baby for signs of hunger. If hungry, feed. If not, proceed to packing the baby's bag. Diapers, wipes, cotton, water, extra set of clothes, mat, napkins to wipe drool, plastic bags to put soiled diaper in. Extra diapers. Extra pieces of cloth (just in case). Sweater (what if it becomes cold?). Wrap. Extra wrap. Check, recheck, re-re-check. All set, get ready to go. Open the door. Baby soils diaper/shows signs of hunger. Back to changing/feeding. Repeat process until successful. Unless it is too late to go.
- Make an attempt to look good, then go out with your baby - everybody looks only at baby. Nobody even glances at you. You could have as well gone in pyjamas.
- Visit someone's house with baby. You ring the bell, husband is trailing, carrying baby. Door is opened, and the host says, "Hi.. what.. where is the baby?" Looks beyond me, sees the bundle in husband's arms, then says, "Oh ok, come on in, then".
- Grin and bear all the advice and comments on how you look after baby. Nothing you do can be right. Case in point - pick up a crying baby, and you are spoiling it. Don't pick up a crying baby, and you are heartless. It is a lose-lose situation.
- Make major changes in career, family life, relationships, friendships.
I can't remember the other points I had made in my head - coz I am sleepy and tired after a long day - and this is the only time I get online... there you go.. one more point!
So, here you have it. This is what it means to have a baby. Lots of work. No rest. Ok? Now, all of you who have been influenced by my rosy baby posts - you can stop reading now.
For the others - All these hardships are real, yes, and yet, at the end of it, you look at the innocent, trusting, delightful creature in front of you, and all that you can say is, "It's all worth it."
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
JustFemme
JustFemme, a women's e-magazine, perhaps the only one of its kind, has been launched today. Do check it out! You are welcome to contribute too!
[And while you are there, look for my write-up too :)]
Feedback about the magazine is welcome. Mail to: justfemme DOT in AT gmail DOT com
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