E-Books and Me?

This time on my trip to India, I picked up around 15 new books ranging from biographies to non fiction and fiction. Seeing me struggle while packing my luggage ( although an allowance of 20 kg may seem a lot, trust me it really isn't) , dad asked me ' Do you know that they have this new concept called an e-book? You really don't have to keep buying so many books like this.' That made me stop and think. Me and E-Books? That's like saying Bipasha and Katrina have become great friends, or that Tom Hanks cant act at all, or even that Godzilla and King Kong are now best friends. The comparisons may be a tad too much, but that's just how strongly I feel about e-books. Or how strongly I DON'T feel about them.

Besides being an old fashioned writer who isn't in favour of too many high tech gizmos around, I love the feel of a book. The pages between your fingers, the smell of a fresh new book or the slightly old feel of an aged book are a few things you just cannot have with an e-book reader. Its great to fall asleep with a book on your tummy and its a wonderful companion on any journey. It doesn't even need any batteries or charging and can last generations if looked after properly. Sometimes, I think that I would like to leave back a wonderful bookcase filled with all sorts of books for my children and grand children. Chancing upon books that belonged to an older member of the family and enjoying them at your own pace is a really good feeling. When I came across some books on Osho and an entire Brittanica encyclopedia collection that belonged to my dad's father; I remember being so astonished. Who even knew that papa had such eclectic and different taste in reading? Now whenever I am accused of reading books that half of mankind has never heard of, I smile thinking that I may have gotten these genes from my grand father. Likewise, on my mothers side; I have my grandpa who I fondly called Bigdaddy to thank for my interest in thrillers and westerns. The point I'm trying to make is that, I could sample a bit of their reading tastes simply because they invested in books which could last generations. I doubt if an e-book reader will have that kind of shelf life.

In a nutshell, I'm one of the few who aren't going to swoon when they see a Kindle or an I Pad. It won't make any difference whatsoever. But a bookstore full of promising books that are just waiting to be purchased and read? Now that's something which can always make my heart skip a beat and leave me with an empty wallet! :-)

Getting back on my Feet

The only catch about spending so much time with my family back there in Cochin is dealing with the severe mood swings I go through- in the first two weeks, I get so itchy that there's no work to do, and by the time its the last one week I have become so lazy that the thought of going back to Singapore and doing housework makes me just want to sob.

And SOB is what I did when I reached home after a long tiring flight. I must make a mention here of a 50 year old man on the same flight as me, who pounced on a student and an air hostess, making both listen to his long tales of smart investments, real estate deals and huge bank balance mid air. The poor student after listening to everything had just one question to ask- ' Where did you say you worked Sir?' To which the know it all guru replied ' That's a very rude question to ask. That means you weren't listening to anything I said.' Poor student figured that silence was better. To top it all, the guru had the gall to ask the student to take down a bag from the overhead compartment, citing an injured arm as the reason why he couldn't do it himself.  While an air hostess offered him some water, he wanted to know if it was spring water and where it was from. When the lady replied that the water was from the springs of Malaysia,  he refused to drink it at all!! Once we were all at the immigration counter, he snapped a chance to share his wisdom with the two pilots- one who giggled just spotting him and another smart looking Indian who had a huge smirk of boredom on his face. Once the two joined the rest of the cabin crew, the ladies giggled away to glory- the protocol of having to be nice to passengers means having to listen to long stories as well.

Anyways....back to my saga of opening the fridge at my place and finding it stuffed to the max. The house was in a mess too with my kids toys in the same position that they were in one month back. It struck me. A guy sees a messy place as relatively clean, whereas my discerning eyes can pick up every speck of dust. In spite of being so tired, I got down to doing some basic vacuuming and cleaning. Imagine my horror when hubby tells me he hasn't changed the bedsheets in a month!! I can  believe stories of the cave man behavior being predominant in men even now.

Monday's cooking saga being a blot on my otherwise good cooking record; I promised sis that I would make up for it during the week. I was as good as my word. I cooked up a yummy, dripping mozzarella cheese non veg lasagna for my sis ( I swore I wouldn't taste more than a spoon. Am I to blame for the fabulous cuisine the Italians created  which makes it very hard for me to keep my word?), banana pancakes( a great way to make use of over ripe bananas), blueberry pancakes this morning with butter and a trifle pudding with my signature blueberry compote. I simply love cooking and feeding people. I miss having my oven which offers greater flexibility to experiment with food.

Today is a Saturday and its raining.  Today is a no cooking day and tomorrow is good old appam and chicken stew. More next time...

Thoughts from Home

I'm weird. When I was in Singapore, I dreamed about getting away from the drudgery of house work and being with other adults other than my husband. Now that I am here away from my little flat, I find that its the only thing I think about all the time. Are my flowers ok, are my fishes alright, is the flat neat and tidy or is the kitchen a mess? I have a clear idea about how the place should look and I get so upset and irritated when something is out of place. But still Monica remains the more extreme character! How I wish I could snap my fingers and the flat would get magically clean on its own. I would have enough time for all the little things , that I miss doing so much.


I read a magazine once where it stressed the importance of having a life map in place. The focus should be equally placed on where you want to go in your career and also the levels you would like to reach in your relationships. I have been toying around with the idea of making one for a long time now, and perhaps someday I will when kiddo is not around. The idea of a life map fits in perfectly for someone who likes everything planned like me. Just what surprises life may instead have in store is a different thing altogether.


Everything at home still is much the same... Mom is still the one who says no to just about anything ( Ma can we have ice cream- NOOO. silence. after 2 minutes. Ma, can we have some ice cream?  I thought I said no??. ok. But we're taking some anyways..imagine my sister and me sitting with a whole pack of ice cream while mom shakes her head complaining about this generation and the two brats that she has raised!) Dad, who secretly loves getting surprise gifts, still puts on a small act when he gets one( Oh you didnt have to buy it..ohhhh, you shouldnt spend so much...)Nikki will still ask after she gets her huge bag of gifts- is this all? I thought you would get me this and that! She is so good at getting her way. My poor kid says the word pizza, because there's a pic of a pizza slice in one of his books. To him anything in a particular shape is a pizza- a slice of bread, a chappathi or even a samosa. To which my cunning little sister says- ' See, akka we should really order a pizza. Poor kuttu keeps saying pizza pizza all day'. Point proven. I know just how much pizza my kid will eat if i do order one. He will most likely admire the shape, take a nibble and then be off somewhere.. I wonder how many other poor sisters like me are being blackmailed into increasing the  profits of Dominoes? But despite my rant, I actually like buying these little things for my sister. Its always nice to be pampered, no matter what age you are, and even better when the purchase in question is on the expensive side!


Its so sweet to see how my little kid adores his young little aunt. His face lights up when he sees her and he gives her atleast ten hugs and kisses a day. The way he clings to her legs is so cute. It reminds me of how Nikki used to behave when she would see me come home after college. There's something so innocent about the way a child loves you- there's no pretense, no judgments made, just pure love. That must be why the saints and other holy people keep telling people to show love the way a child does. Love seriously gets harder as you grow up. 

Home Tidbits- Back to where I belong

The journey from Singapore to Cochin this time is one I really want to forget. My little brat has a very clear policy- If he cant get sleep, then NOBODY else on the flight is going to either! So, between smiling at the pretty air hostesses( now why cant they have some eye candy for us women up in the air too??) and screaming as loudly as he could in spite of having his own seat, he found time to drop a chilled glass of orange juice on the person sitting next to him. In between while I was gobbling down my dinner ( yes, keeping up with a kid really burns up calories), he very neatly flicked the little bottle of water from the same passenger's tray table. Thinking that poor guy had gone through enough already, I got up and went to the last row. Throughout the flight, I ended up standing and trying to rock my kid to sleep. When I got off the plane, my left arm was sore and swollen. And my kid? he royally forgot me the minute he saw my sister and parents. So much for a thank you!

There's something nice about being home after a long time. To me 6-7months is long. Its great to step into my room, which I insisted would continue to look like a teenager's room, than that of a girl who was married and now a mother. In a way, I wanted to keep in touch with that part of me before marriage and hold on to things that I cherished over the years. So many little precious things make up my room- little presents from friends, my first cuddly toy which was a monkey, my collection of birthday cards and my book case stand which is stuffed with books. I am most proud of my medals in public speaking, singing and debates. They make me feel like I did something right in school and college. I have this huge collection of books which I hope only gets bigger with time. Mom always tells me to stop buying books, but as writer I always feel I can never have enough. I just dont know where the next inspiration is going to come from. I read Anne Frank;s diary and wrote my personal favourite poem- At Auschwitz. To me that poem marks the beginning of a certain maturity and clarity of thought which I feel was missing for so long. 

I love baking and home is one place where I have 3 other willing tasters. Of course, its been ages since I made a cake from scratch, but I remember it being worth all the trouble.. For me of late, I turn to the other woman who has made baking a cake as easy as 1-2-3 and her name is Betty Crocker. I prefer her range of cake mixes to Pillsbury and every other brand under the sun. Trust me I have tried many of them too. Somehow Betty's mixes really give you a cake that's not just fluffy and smells great, but one that is really moist and which melts in the mouth. Of course I come from a family that loves food. Which also means that every time I make something yummy, I pay the price in a way. Mom tells me that one of my secret vendetta is to make it impossible for her to lose any weight at all. I dont deny that our war of who loses more weight has been going on for so long now, but honestly, I love feeding people and it makes me really sad when they dont eat what I have laboured to make. 

So, on the list are more specials of mine- chicken cheese pie, a cheese cake dessert, home made pizza and maybe a payasam.which dad loves...In a way, getting burnt in the heat makes me smile... its always good to be home.. 

Some people are born to be passengers- Like Me!!

So alright. Here's a terrible truth. One that I always try my best to run away from. I cant drive. There. No I mean it, I really cannot drive for my life. If ever I am faced with a situation where I have a car and a set of keys, either the car wont move at all or the mortality rate in my lane will be huge. Being in Singapore, these guys mean business. For the smallest of crimes, you are looking at a few dozen lashes of the cane and a few years in jail. That strategy works I tell you. The crime rate is quite low in the city and a plan to build a new jail was canceled. Why? Simply because the present jail isn't quite filled up at all. :-O


Back to my story. Dont even think of suggesting that I take up driving classes because I have already put my terrible skills to the road in two separate cities already!! I thought as a student in Hyderabad that going for driving classes would be great. Well now when I look back I realize how funny they were actually. Since students all over the world are broke, and I am no exception, I joined a crash course in driving classes. What a mistake!! Not only was my knowledge half- baked by the end of it, but it didn't quite give me the confidence I was looking for. Even more funnier was my poor instructor who was really a sweet guy. He didnt know English or Hindi and I for one didn't know Telugu. Here's how our conversation usually went


( Imagine am driving the already battered up car, which has barely any space for big sized me)


Me- 'I really must go faster on this. Why are we going so slow?'

( Thats when I almost bang an old man with a bullock cart)


Instructor- ' Hulloooo. HULLOOO'.


( Now, I'm a very social person. Only thing is I couldn't figure out why my sir wanted me to say hello  just when I almost hit somebody!)


Me- ' Hello? Sir why are we saying hello now?'


Instructor- ' Hullooo, HULLOO'.


Me- ' Helloo HELLOO' ( in a loud voice just in case sir thinks am not social)


Instructor- ' Shloww Shloowww. Hulloooo '. 


( Thats' when it hit me. The Telugu word for slow is Hullo. Can you imagine how much it made me laugh? My poor sir was staring at me and then back at his reflection, probably wondering what sins he committed in this birth to get a crack student like me!)


Me laughing for a full 5 minutes gave way to another conversation that followed. Just when I was about to take a sharp turn my instructor said-


Instructor- ' Nakku'. 


( If you know Malayalam, you'd realise that in my language, the word Nakku simply means to lick. Now can you blame me for getting all confused??'


Me- ' Nakku? Whaa? Whats that supposed to mean?'


Instructor- ' No. No...'


Me- ' Ok dont tell me now, but atleast tell me tomorrow.'


Instructor- ' No..No...  no drive fast, drive hullo.'


I finally had it figured that Nukku simply means no. Can I be blamed for my lack of driving skills but definite presence of being able to see the funny side of most things in life?


You're probably wondering what happened at the second driving course I attended. Now that's a story for another blog entry. Keep reading...