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Random

– I am ashamed that I no longer can read a book for longer than half an hour before I doze off. Any time of the day. Any book. A few years ago I read Ana Karenina in single eight-hour sitting. Age is a curse.

– Reading and loving Eco’s Name of the Rose. Tried reading it a couple of years ago but couldn’t go beyond 2 pages. Age is a blessing.

– I wish internet would stop associating hot flashes to night. Misleading.

– Hungry all the time. Eating disorder? PMS? Diabetes?

– My dawn dreams are going to kill me soon.

Had more fleeting thoughts all day, which have fleeted by. Perhaps they would come back to me after I hit publish.

Have a better weekend than my hormone addled one, folks.

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Exam stress

The troubled kid comes for a hug.  While giving her a bear hug, she tells me that she is stressed because of her SST exam tomorrow and her utter under-preparedness.

Mom:  Kanna, don’t worry, this is nothing to be stressed about.

Kid (looking up with eyes full of gratitude and love): really amma? Why do you say that?

Mom: Because this is only quarterly exams in ninth class.  You still have half yearly and finals in ninth, and then you have tenth, eleventh, twelfth…college…

Kid:  Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby?

Walks off in a huff.

Comments

A couple of bloggers I follow have been mentioning the loss of comments to their posts, and the accidental spam-foldering of legit comments.  I checked my spam folder to see if I was losing comments to it, and found the following:

Someone whose handle is “single” says the following in response to my post reproducing Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry on Independence day.

“It іs in reality a nice and helpful piece of info. I am happy that you shared this һelpful information with us.
Please кeep us informed ⅼiҝe this. Thank you for ѕharing.”

Thank you.  I will surely keep you inform c d like this.

A certain la2enjoy finds my post on a Hindu festival without power so:

Thankfulness to my father who informed me concerning this website, this weblog is genuinely remarkable.

My thankfulness also to their father who informed them concerning this genuinely remarkable weblog.

A post describing an embarrassing conversation about uterus with a friend garnered the following support from SpencerTup

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“customarily i personally don’t like voiceover, towards the it’s around the shopping in, Cronenberg details along the Regency or resort in san francisco, location we each mention prior to the western states premi inside the higher toronto world presentation pageant. “it something’s no longer working correct, Like you might need a epic saga to spell out film production company. But web page,in this situation, The work of fiction will be inside these movie,

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so what exactly did which is why he give southern hype? “you know me,

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“to stay wide-spread, Cronenberg counter tops, “you need to be specific. You sincerely hope are going to be abstractions exactly who speak out loud off those things that you’ve done, providing the joy of eastern side assures, he tells, “was not much diverse from entering the Peking ie for many M Butterfly. repeatedly, we’re managing kind of funnily hermetically covered subculture that possesses his own simple rules and so judgement standards. and then for me, you will want to understand, gain access to Midwestern the united states for a medical history of physical violence was as simple as creating this is what ruskies subculture. it’s just that for you to men and women, the first is hidden and another is exotic. it’s the same much akin to perception,

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Say what?

My refurbished living room impressed acupuntura curitiba batel thusly

excelente pontos completamente, você só ganhou
um emblema novo leitor. O que poderia você sugerem em relação ao seu submeter
que você apenas fez alguns dias no passado?

Qualquer positivo ?

Google translates the above to

excellent points completely, you just won
a new player badge. What could you suggest regarding your submitting
What did you just do a few days in the past?
Any positive?

A1 positive.  Will that help?

Random thoughts

Kid:  Amma, both you and appa are great teachers.  Appa is scary when he teaches, though.  You are scary all the time.

The kid’s science exam awaits.  The dad has taken it upon himself to impress physics upon her.  and I, chemistry.  Hence the above quip.  Yep, we are officially tiger parents now.

**

Today’s drama: After the wasp sting and millipede bite of yesterday, today’s malady is deodorant in the eye.  I should take Carol’s advice and just stay in bed.

**

My guests left last night.  This may be insensitive and on more counts than one, but I feel like the Caribbean right now!

In the last minute scramble, the departing s-i-l decided that an India trip is not complete until she has had the “Thaen mittai”, loosely translated as “honey candy”, which despite its exotic name, has no honey in it. She searched heaven and earth and finally found it in a small shop, bought a few packets of it, gave one to me triumphantly and declared “This is India”.  I don’t remember particularly liking this sweet as a kid, tried one, and realised that I don’t like it now either.  I can’t understand how anyone could like a sticky, super sweet, orange thingummy, ever.  Convinces me that nostalgia is an overkill of imagination and a compulsive need to not grow up.##

**

I have three bottles of Absolut and five bottles of various types of scotch.   I have no idea what to do with them, but the better half says, we should just hold on to them for many years, they would escalate in value, sell them afterwards as super vintage, buy a castle with the proceeds and retire.  An idea, that.

**

Happy Sunday folks.

 

##A google search shows many people ooing and aahing over thaen mittai.  There is an emoticon on my phone that shows a scrunched face with tongue out.  That’s what I need to insert here.

 

 

Astrology be damned

In Indian astrology, there is one day every month, called Chandrashtami, for everyone, according to their birth star, during when it is best if they not get out of bed because Murphy throws a party.  My dad is a firm believer of the Chandrashtami and warns me before our days of Chandrashtami (we share a birth star).   I don’t believe in Chandrashtami, or anything to do with astrology.

My day today started with me ignoring the alarm. This, however, is not a rare event and the alarm is ignored every day.  But today, my kid had to attend a debate workshop all day, which meant, I had to get her breakfast and lunch ready and drop her at the workshop by 9.  Waking at 7.30 does not bode well, especially when I am out of bread and must make something from scratch.  The hormones on a roll didn’t help as well and I had awoken in a panic having dreamt that I forgot to pick the kid from the workshop.  The kid must first GO to the workshop, for me to pick her up, must she not?

So while I freaked out at my own delays, the kid chose today to be at her sluggish best.  Yes, it was her workshop, and I shouldn’t be the one to freak out, but try telling a time-obsessive hormone crazed nerd that.  After jumping around as if on fire, and getting hysteric at the kid who changed clothes five times because “this one is too crumpled” and “this one is ugly” and so on, I dragged her out the door, and rushed to the venue of the workshop with a minute to spare, and the kid realised that she did not wear her ID card because I rushed her.

I may have used the eff word multiple times in public, and loudly too.

I should have just left her to face the music of not wearing the ID, despite her teacher having drilled into her head yesterday that she absolutely had to wear her ID, but moms are a weird lot.  At least some moms are.  Considering that the workshop was conducted in the building right next to our campus, I muttered to myself all the way back home, picked up the ID, rushed back to a teary child, used a couple more expletives at her and walked back, clocking in all, at least four kilometres up and down in half an hour !

But that was just the beginning.  Did you know millipedes bite?  They are in general a peaceful creature, but when taxed beyond endurance, they can stingeth like the adder, as I discovered the painful way. As I took the shortcut through a marshy area, one of them took sanctuary between the feet and the slipper, and feeling the massive weight descend on it, gave the feet one solid bite before being squished into pulp.  And while I hopped around in blinding pain on my feet, a wasp found my pant intriguing and entered it, flew up and deciding to take a nip of the moving part, stung a juicy one on the right thigh, just above the knee, while I crushed it instinctively right there with its sting lodged within my flesh.

I can’t remember how I managed to reach home, strip and pull out the sting and scream in agony, but it seems those I did, in that order. You’d think I would be a spent force by now, and I am, largely because the trauma of the millepede bite or the wasp sting or the general tension of the morning has loosened the bowels, and I am making multiple trips to the bathroom when I am not groaning in pain.

Add to this a bedlam of eight human-sized suitcases being packed by my guests who leave today.

Today apparently is NOT a chandrashtami day for me.  Ha.

The week begins…

…with one good news – we got our first woman defence minister, and one bad news – the third gender has been derecognized in my country’s labour law framework.  I must stop reading the newspaper in the morning.

***

Guests

The house guests left to spend time with other relatives this weekend, and won’t be back until the end of the week, during when they would jam-pack eight large suitcases with India and return to their land of milk and honey.  It has been whirlwind days when they were around, and interestingly, the more chaotic and noisy the home became, the deeper I dug my feet into the metaphoric ground and withdrew into the silence within me.  Having rambunctious guests at home is perhaps my biggest instigator of instinctive zen.  With them gone, the mind is slowly resuming its mischief as thoughts begin to spiral and the zen is broken.

The downside with the guests was that I became extremely lax with my food control and exercise routine –  I have not set foot in the gym for two weeks now and my portion control has been booted out, especially with the large jar of Kirkland chocolate covered almonds that seductively beckon me every time I enter the kitchen.

I had requested my guests to bring me wine, because the ones you get here are less than substandard, and the good ones are fairly expensive.  I must have given them the impression of being an alcoholic or something, for what I got was, apart from a small bottle of wine, which was empty in one evening, among four people two of whom were heavy drinkers – three rather large bottles of Absolut and five miniature bottles of Ballantine’s and Johnnie Walkers.  The pretty bottles have been put on display above the loft because hard liqueur is not our glass of alcohol. I was tempted to try out cocktails – Bloody Mary and Screwdriver for instance, but the last time I even tasted Vodka – a teeny weeny sip that got me gagging – I suffered a whopper migraine, so I’ll stick to my tee-totalling lifestyle, with an occasional sip or two of wine thrown in, when available.

***

Karma and philosophy

A universal truth was reiterated this morning.  I had cooked a couple of traditional items – bitter guard pittlai and fire roasted brinjal chutney – which turned out exactly the way my grandmother made them.  While I relished eating them, my family was not too happy about my choice of recipes today and seeing their scrunched up faces, I remembered the innumerable times I had scrunched up my face the exact same way when my grandmother had made them at home. What goes around, comes around, Karma is a dog and such truths are truths indeed.  For a moment my irritation flared and I almost yelled at my family for disdaining food that sustains life but realized that this was merely payback for my actions.

Last week, I had been to the beach with my daughter for a brief while because my guests had to be taken to an Ayurvedic medical man near the beach.  As I dropped them at the dispensary and headed for the beach, it started raining, and everyone else in the beach cleared out.  The rain, however, stopped in five minutes, and the kid and I had the beach to ourselves – it was overwhelmingly beautiful and serene, but the kid freaked out at the darkness and expanse of the horizon and the absence of people around!  To make things worse, a gipsy woman followed me around offering to read my palm and tell my future.  I told her that my future is a function of my own action, and I’d rather not know about it now – she muttered and went away and my daughter is convinced that she is a witch who cast a black spell on me, and something bad is going to happen.  It’s during times like this that I wonder if they switched the bassinet in the hospital.

***

Have a great week ahead, folks.

 

 

 

Home

When we returned to India from the US fourteen years ago (wow, 14 years?!), we had a few regrets.  For me, one regret was the absence of honey nut cheerios at a cost that didn’t require me to sell my kidneys. There is one thing, however, that I do not regret – the periodic vacation that I would have had to take to India, had I continued to live in the US.  Just seeing my in-house guest and her need to take in as much of India into her within 3 weeks, is exhausting.  I would have been just that and the thought makes me want to curl up.  Of course, my guest has the energy of a nuclear reactor, and enthusiasm of a puppy dog with a toy, and is enjoying every bit of it, not letting one wakeful moment go waste.  I need a vacation just seeing her.

I am not a vacations person.  Rather, I am not a traveler.  A lot of people don’t get that. I have a friend who thinks I am a loser because I would rather sit at home than take a trip someplace – he stopped asking me what I did during summer vacation because it bothers him when I reply “nothing”.  Part of the reason for my reluctance to travel is my travel sickness.  I cannot take a road trip without heavy duty anti-emetics, which in turn, give me migraines, but that is only a physical excuse.  Mentally, I am happier staying at home; my dream vacation is when I have a whole week at home, with all domestic chores taken care of, work chores suspended, and meals magically materialising on the table, while I spend days reading, writing, meditating and gymming.    I don’t mind having my family around, as long as I get an ample dosage of alone-time.

This is unfortunate for my better half, who, if not a travel-bug, is less home-bound than I am.  His restless spirit requires periodic change of scene, and we do take occasional vacations, but we compromise – we go to a place where we are not jumping around in frenzy like there is no tomorrow, and we relax and take in the place and the moods – I don’t like the actual travel bit, but I don’t mind it as much if it results in a relaxing period. Last year’s one-week trip to Florence was one such – we stayed in one place for a week, took in the town at our own pace, and returned fresh.  Truth be told, I needed a week off after that at home.

These are thoughts I had been meaning to write over the past many days, but I have been busy just watching my in-house guest and her energy levels.  Today’s post by superwifeandmummy triggered my need to write this one.  I am not sure being an immovable traveller, I am a happy, content and enlightened person, as Maria describes, but she hits the nail with “My true Essence of Self is on a journey of discovery.”  Just sitting here in a corner of my living room, in a comfortable chair, in total silence, writing this post feels like a vacation.