Tiny Tykes

I wept that day miserably exhausting myself.It was my day 1 @ kindergarden.There was this huge & heavy feeling in my tiny self.As if people around have done injustice by walking me to an unfamiliar place called school.May be my tiny instincts knew they were snapping me from holidaying in life for many years to follow.I just didn't spoil my own day but mom's,dad's my kg tutor's & that poor school aayya's.Puddle of tears,red eyes,running nose & that wet handki are still fresh in my memory chip.It probably took a month or more to get acquainted to all those new unplesant faces around.That was me 24 years back.A month ago,my neighbour's 3 year old neice came upstairs to visit my mom to fetch her blessings the day before she was starting her KG classes.To that tiny tot my mom shot a Q.

Mom How did you know that you should do this?

Kiddo I have seen people doing it before starting something new.

Mom Oh aren't you scared to go to school?You cannot eat and play all the time there.Miss will be very strict and watching you all the time.Are you ok with it ?

Kiddo Am bored seeing my mom & dad all the time now.I am waiting to see some new faces & a place to go everyday.

A week later, just to check if all went well with the kid,mom dropped by.

Mom Hi honey,have you started going to school?.How are u liking it.I mean ur school,ur miss & your friends ?

Kiddo I like everything abt this school except one thing with an inverted smiley gesture facing the floor.

Mom Whtz that child.Can i know ?

Kiddo My new friend.He weeps all the time and it spoils my mood as well u know.

I have spent time with this kid during many of my trips.She must be just 3 now.She likes to do only things of her choice like selectively watching cartoon network,eating chicken kababs every night,wearing only soft fabric clothes.She is just cool about letting you know if you look good to her eyes.Once she came to me and said in a loving gesture'You look very pretty.I like you very much.Will you come to my house and stay with me?'.What a sweet offer & a priceless compliment from a kid of that age.Did i really know how to compliment someone at that very age ?.I did like all the pleasant looking faces at that age.But the element of complimenting others wasn't existing in my tiny self.Did i really bother or knew to tell my mom that some frilled frocks were actually pricking me inside though they made me look bright n bubbly.What ever was dressed on me was me.Whatever was given to eat was eaten by me.I never knew when to watch TV and when not to.Ofcourse am not trying to compare my dull head with some smart whizkid.

This kid really prompted me to observe kids of the same age.The next kid in the list was my collegue's.She leaves the kid in the day care centre inside my work campus.This kid loves to sing and one fine morning a beautiful sight struck me.My friend was holding her kidz hand and looking around wondering what to do.This kid was holding a bright coloured flower along it's long stem,half squatted,smiling brightly and happily singing to that flower.On revealing that beautiful sight that i witnessed tht morning to her,she told me that her son is interested in singing and that he frames his own lyrics sometimes and fits them in to an existing tune.How intelligent ? She also revealed to me that there are kids @ the day care who speak different languages to different people & responds in the correct language to people around.If only the mapping for all this is done in the brain correctly,i believe this is possible.Kids at day care are all less than 3.

Direct from the womb they all evolve really smart,knowing what they want and what they don't want,happy and bold unlike a kid like me of my generation :(

Runaway tips for dummies

Deep irony behind the following writeup might be the fact that itz by a perfect dummy who never got chance to run even a little away from home for any good reason in life.But that doesn't disqualify me to publish my valuable tips to other dummies who wish to graduate on how to runaway from their homes without messing it all up.

My disclaimer would be that though this might not serve you dummies out there as one detailed comprehensive runaway guide,i promise you will get some rich insights,tips & stimulants to think out of the box by the time you reach end of this tip guide.To put it in a nutshell, this will be a quick jump start guide to inspire if you have already kick started the thought process of running away from home ditching your parents.

Before we begin with the tips & tricks,if you would like to know why on earth am I taking pains to draft content on such a risky & adventurous topic,lemme take the pleasure of revealing a true fact to you prestigious readers at this point in time.After being a successful co-mastermind behind a high risky and a high adventurous runaway plan which succeeded beyond it's probability to succeed,I believed penning down my rich insights on such a subject could prove beneficial to few other potential couples.

As any other author i also would like to begin by dedicating my quick guide to 2 dummies.My heart felt thanks to them who blindly trusted me and my instincts to the best of their knowledge on such a valuable aspect in their lives.All tips,tricks,post wedding plans listed below are actually drawn from my meticulous planning experience in uniting this couple.

Tip#1-Foot Gear A good pair of gripping shoes with lace tied tightly is a must even to run those few steps effectively from your house to board any hired cab or bike or bus whatever be your chosen mode to escape home.Your otherwise regular high heel has the capability of landing you directly on a hospital bed & your strapped sandals could strand u by toppling both you and ur plans, all in a minute.So make sure you actually have a good pair of foot gear in working conditions during those auspiciously daring runway minutes.Mmm .. I can hear you appreciating me on this well thought tip #1.Thanks anyways : )

Tip#2-Transportation All you need to get united with your sweet heart is not even a pair of strong legs to run but a hired cab in good running conditions.This is my first recommended mode of transport if you have a long distance to cover.The shortest route from the runaway point to ur first planned destination must be well known.If not you, atleast the driver must be with good clarity of thought and route.A good bike will also do the trick.If itz a local runaway,then your bike must be serviced priorly,tyres filled with air & tank filled with sufficient petrol.Above all either you or ur partner must be in the perfect state of mind to drive well once you hit the main road.Since for most it is expected to be the first runaway experience,itz recommended that you don't drive.If people at home are absolutely not skeptical and highly hopeless in tracing your master plan,then boarding a local metro transport leisurely could be the cheapest and the best for you.

Tip#3-Rest&Sleep The person who has the necessity to take ample rest and sleep prior to this adventurous exercise should be your driver since he/she needs to drive you back the entire stretch during your journey towards your first planned destination.In addition you could also rest and sleep so that you don't screw the meticulous master plan from your side.And the same can be followed by your partner as well so that things go smooth as planned in a clear state of mind.A good rest& sleep will provide you this.

Tip#4-Communication Carry your mobile,just to communicate with your partner in case of any last minute confusion in the plan.But remember to remove the SIM card immediately after you leave home.I believe you know why?.Your current location can be traced with the nearest tower from which mobile device picks up the signal.Leaving a trace would be the most foolish thing in this situation.And more so you don't want to receive any calls from kith & kin on that number at least for those immediate few hours.what do u say ?

Tip#5-Runaway Note After performing the most daring act in ur life,you wouldn't want to keep your parents guessing foolishly that u had just vanished to some friend's house or to some shopping mall near by.I know to let them know your daring act,isn't that easy in spite of your success behind ditching them.If you are highly confused as what to write in the runaway note to your parents,stop worrying i say.An SMS to your dad/mom after few minutes of quitting the house will do.It need not be so elaborate,remember it is an Short Messaging Service anyway.

Tip#6-Things to carry Just before your clandestine runway plan if you are skeptical on what to carry & what not to,here are few handy tried and tested pointers.A good max fresh toothpaste and an old toothbrush should be on top of your list amidst other things.Next comes ur passport,certificates,debit card.If you can organise all these in a neat file or a folder well in advance,it is a good practise.Ur facewash,deo and a pair of dress with some clean & soft under wears along with a comb is the most recommended.The contents listed above are tried and tested.If you are asking me abt the under wear ... lemme explain.The very next day you will be grieving to the peak for all the family values you practised all these years.Your new underwear has the power to alleviate your grief to the extent it can help.If you had already let your imagination fire by now,gosh am not responsible in anyway.If you want to be extra careful sufficient eatables with the choice of your soft drink can be included in the list.Soft drinks are mainly to wash down all the multiplied sorrows.

Tip#7-Emotional Intelligence Have you heard of it before?If u haven't itz just fine .. because this is what you got to ideally practise once you have done the most daring act in ur life and still can't believe it for urself that you have just done it.Just be practical and go with the flow in life.Don't let a whirl pool spin inside ur brain soaking all the past incidents or ur past life ,even for a minute.I know itz the most difficult thing to practise but believe me itz the need of hour.Even if your IQ had been an all time low,you can fare well in EQ under such exceptional circumstances.Believe me it works sometime.

Tip#8-Star Connections After all,the whole runaway ,meticulous planning & implementation should be rewarding for the rest of your life.For this,it's better to pass on your birth details & horoscope if any through any of your trustable friends and make sure that your astral combinations with ur partner are in perfect sync with each other just to avoid the possibility of some strong skewed lines at some corner of your birth chart screwing up the whole thing.I believe you are slowly gripping the fact that i was a pretty good co-master mind.

Tip#9-Place to Stay Make arrangements for a clandestine stay at least for the next day or next few days/weeks.Choose a clandestine destination,u know, a place where your will be in-laws just can't take even a wild guess.And to take ample rest after all the emotional trauma that you both had undergone.U deserve it,i tell you.

Tip#10-Family Bonding Just the day or the night previous to runaway,make sure you bond well with the entire family.Meet all ur local friends,relatives,elders in the family,take their silent blessings by dropping a safety pin near their foot etc with silent prayers for ur forthcoming plan to succeed.After all without elderly blessings,whatz the big deal to start a brand new life.Isn't it ?

Tip#11-RTI If you are wondering what this Real Time Implementer is,let me reveal.After all the grand master plan & logistics in place, the person who z got to quit home with all the essential things packed skipping the glance of every possibly existing member in the family on time in a perfect state of mind is equivalent to a rocket launch from earth to the targeted celestial destination.In fact the work of masterminds comes to light only if the RTI doesn't lets you down at the right minute.Even by any chance if you get caught, the consequences are unimaginably huge.So in this case you have the responsibility to get this right at the very first time.Isn't it ?.So as an RTI u got to mentally visualize this runaway act everyday at least for a week,do a forward,rewind,pause and frame the sequences correctly in the brain for a strong positive outlook on the mission.

Tip #12-License Procurement Finally a single ceremony that will make ur runaway act meaningful is this license procurement.I mean getting ur tie-up registered by signing in appropriate fields in designated forms in the presence of a sub registrar @ his office as per supreme court.Catch hold of a lawyer who can help you with this.I came to know that there are full time lawyers whose survival depends only on runaway couples dying to procure license asap in a clandestine way. And needless to say you need to collect two of ur buddies who will sign for the purpose of proof.Again make sure they are ur true friends.You can't be careless by inviting friends who have had some serious crush on ur partner at some point in time.Just in case ur foe in the name of a friend is accompanying you,your chance of signing in the correct fields might be slim.So take care : -).Feel free to bribe these full time couple uniting lawyers.After all, thatz their only source of income.Thatz it.You are almost done in making the whole runaway project a huge success.What more ?.Make sure you live the rest of your life without having to run, even to catch a bus.Thanks for allowing me to help & inspire you just in case if you have read this crap till the end.

Password Day

In our times,the whole calender year appears encroached & a kind of crowded to my eyes with almost all 365 days marked with 'U' day,'Me' day & the 'gay' day without sparing a single day free.Most of which obnoxiously sound silly days to me like,u know what I mean.Considering my pathetically past poor experiences in managing all my passwords in life i was happy to come across the password day of my life which was indeed quite a relieving day,I declare.

In an attempt to keep in touch with interesting buddies,old pals & secretly store few personal things,like every teenager on earth,I too opened a personal mail account which demanded a secret key to the free lock in the name of a password.So I framed my favourite string of characters (mmm ... should i reveal it ?Mm ... i don't see any harm here) 'chocopie' as password which otherwise might have been my own name,if my parents had thoughts of consulting me during my naming ceremony.

Soon as a style statement I opened yet another free account with a leading search engine empire in the world.To make my life simple,i framed the same string of characters as pwd to this one as well.Then these chat engine interfaces,u know,they too ask for pwds for security purpose.Damn,I use the same chocopie,for these as well.

For some reason,one fine day a cousin of mine came to know about my chocopie and in a hurry i secretly edited my pwd as nochocopie.For the next few times,it used to throw me errors on typing my old 'chocopie'.But now itz all going good with my new 'nochocopie'

Being employed within the four firewalls of an Information Technology world,I necessarily had to reserve at least 2 blocks of space in my memory just to remember the following inevitable passwords in my life.

Early in the morning a pwd to unlock my locked computer,a password to open my mailbox,a password to connect to my client network,a password to open my mailbox provided by the client,a pwd to open my unix home directory,a password to access the problem tracking tool and yet another if you want to be part of the company's social networking site & flaunt your latest pictures.

If i have to book my train tickets, even the Indian Railways ask for a password.Then for having committed the sin of just hopping from one company to another,i landed up having accounts with 3 different private banks.The total count today stands as 4 money cards with one being a credit card among them.So the cc requires yet another password apart from remembering a 3 digit cvv number which has completely disappeared after swiping it sufficiently good enough for the digits to vanish.So the crammed space is left with no mercy but to remember these additional 3 digits.

Then the 3 remaining bank ATM cards demand me to religiously remember their 4 digit pin and a 8+ net banking password.While i believe i have listed all the inevitably existing passwords in my life,just wondering if i left anything to list.Oh ya on mom's request i did open 2 more for mom to keep in touch with her kids,friends & students.And i have the additional responsibility of remembering them as well, since she doesn't check her mails regularly & there is a vulnerability of her forgetting them.

With all these complicated accounts existing in a life like mine,if u are asking me why don't i synchronize all my passwords to one easy to remember string of characters like 'Ihatemypwds',lemme tell you, blessings like these never happen.The bank accounts,the comp at office & each & every pwd created on client's domain expect the account holders to change their passwords every quarter,month,fortnight & on account expiration date set.In a haste i simply append digits like 1,2 or even 123 to it or sometimes !@#$ & in between all the juggling that happens within those two blocks of reserved space in the brain,the dump gets badly corrupted,words jumbled most of the time & needless to say that the chances of recovery are quite slim.

And there are accounts which we all don't regularly visit but we do check them at crucial times,for example my Bank Account#1 which I bother to open only to see if interest on my Capital gets credited :).Though a joyous feeling on seeing extra money credited,possible only if i remember my password promptly.Otherwise am thrown a message in red bold letters saying something that i hate to see and have seen ample number of times by now.Though you might know what it is,lemme take the pleasure of revealing it to you one more time 'Ur pwd is locked'.Locked meaning it requires calling up a sequence of customer care guys,for a series of days sometimes months just to hear that we got to go in person and drop a form that is fully filled with all possible unimportant statistical data about my existence on earth.Due to some self refusal,I have not had access to so many accounts of mine for months or even years together.

There came a day in the recent past when,like a series of green signals glowing at all traffic signals giving way to reset some 6-7 passwords,pin and gain authentication back to all my inactive accounts on the same day without having to walk up to any outlet or fill any form and drop anywhere.I proudly declared such a day to be my password day and know what? I don't trust my 2 blocks of corrupted memory space anymore.I write them all in a mail and send it to my newly opened account on a free site called 'Remember your Passwords'.Oops .... what the hell was the password for that account ?

Storm in a teardrop

A tattered atlas,now in some abandoned shelf corner,referred way back in high school geography classes.Flipping through the first couple of pages,there it is on the right side,snapshots of our most treasured celestial object's sequential evolution across millions of years.Why the only single huge land mass exploded itself to drift apart in small & big fractions on the ocean bed tell us firmly,it was geography that paved way to all the history on earth.That very fact led us in to coining yet another inevitable word,Continent in its plural form & eventually its consequences. Today a child below 10 years might be fascinated if employed to put back each continent's jigsaw puzzle piece adjacent to one another just to see how they simply fit each other,elucidating the fact of oneness.

Until the latest remarkable evolution of our most treasured planet there ceased to exist the teardrop island which today hangs like a vestigial land to the Asian continent.Life sometimes is wonderful if some things ceased to exist.One such thing in my cease wish list would be this tear drop island appearing orphaned on the waters of earth right under the Indian foot.History tells me every single human life out there today flourished as a consequence of desired settlement for a pie of land within the tear drop island, innumerable centuries back. On further dig with my inquisitive shovel,I only find that they were all migrants from our Indian subcontinent & from nowhere else.Which just means all their roots trace back to our rich cultural, social & political heritage.Even if they refuse to acknowledge,it still is the embedded truth lying uncluttered in their deep selves.

Though the summary of Ceylon's ancient history sounds much like a fairy tale, it is much more than a horror flick right now.First landed an Indian king from a far India with his small army, followed by some Buddha bikshus & then the men from the near India.The far Indians transformed in to what they like to call themselves.The Sinhalese.Deriving a religion, language & custom of their own by borrowing it from every possible neighboring Indian state.The near Indians remained to be what they were.The Tamils.The crux of all the existing agony there today in a way seem to derive from chronological difference in each other’s arrival time.Since the far Indians were the initial inhabitants,they still believe that they hold an upper hand & hence the exploitation of the late comers.But late comers too agonized the former by waging wars at inappropriate times in the past,all standing as a stifling factor to the already fragile world peace, today.

But if you wish to take a close look from the time a demon ruled this island till the time tigers were finally traumatized,you will notice just like me,how finely destiny devices its own disaster plan,time & again,symbolizing the remarkably visible tear shape of this land in the lives of its inhabitants too.The divide between people became so bitter that it gradually became a land of twin tales.I simply wonder how history will unfold this double version events & interpretations to the world tomorrow.

Why the sleeping tigers were provoked in the first place, answers many similar ethnic conflict stories around the world.Like the most prevalent black& white divide in the Columbus discovered continent,in the tear drop island too,the Tamil sect was suppressed from the beginning denying their social & political rights as citizens.A fight for their basic rights began long time back paving way to multiple gangs of liberation tigers.One huge tiger swallowed the rest to emerge as a super tiger which claimed it to be the LTTE.Prabhakaran's pristine cause behind his tiny freedom fight picked up too many distracting controversial factors along its way and stood as a huge threat factory to the world in course of time.Once the wild cats tasted blood & flesh, basic goals seem to have forgotten.Civilians - the very word which addressed only the suffering Tamils faced threat from their own freedom fight heads, letting evaporate the very essence of a once focused goal.How many of us know what it means to live without peace, happiness, home, food, work & above all loved ones?.Particularly does the other pampered sect there know what it means to lose one’s identity & stand orphan in one’s own country?.

While all this is just one side of the story, let’s flash some light on the other side. Just to destroy an insignificant number(after all whose basic intrinsic intention was to fight for their sect’s safety & rights),will any democratic government play with the lives of millions of innocent people?.Should we blame the British government who followed a divide & rule policy by failing to include Lanka as an Indian province when the far away string of Andaman Islands came under our shelter?.Though all this is out of hands right now, at times it simply appears as reflection of a deep rooted hatred for their counterparts by the Sinhalese to destroy the Tamil sect completely.In the name of destroying the liberation tigers, they silently seem to have dwindled the count of innocent Tamils.

Sinhalese are the ones actually in the safe zone who didn't know what is it to be on the war front shedding blood & lives.Every day the black & white prints paint only the red blood story of those dreamt of a Tamil Elam.We neither found any thoughtful strategy been devised nor any concrete solutions put forward to rescue the suffering souls. International community's voice fell only on the deaf ears of the Lankan democrats.As an island nation, it preferred to nurture friendship & good relationship with countries across continents but failed to make peace with people within its own boundary.How strange is that?.The war has kept the country from development for more than a quarter century now.

If the time, attention & money the Lankan government spent in destroying lives of innocent people & in trying to destroy LTTE without a trace, be spent in giving equal rights to the Tamil sect & treat everyone like its own children, I don't see any reason for gangs like LTTE to have uprooted in the first place. Since they failed to do so, it paved way for a powerful gang to bud into an inevitable evil in their own soil.Prabhakaran’s is only a chapter in the red blood book of Sri Lankan history until now.In fact I believe the entire International community was distracted tactfully which kept us guessing how & when Prabhakaran’s life will end.Prabhakaran’s death was not the exact need of the hour to anyone.That might not even matter much to the million suffering souls.Restoring social & political rights to the Tamil sect & ensuring their safety & respect was the bottom line expectation from the Lankan government for over many decades now.

Better late than never.Even now this can be done, to prevent yet another big cat species evolve out of hatred for the Sinhalese.Few thoughtful & sensible government policies could easily spread harmony among people,painting back those lost colors in the lives of the existing ones.Will the Lankan govt give rights to the Tamil sect at least now?.Will Prabhakaran's dream of a Tamil Elam come true at least after his claimed & confirmed death?.If yes, what he couldn't achieve in his life time might stand materialized after a couple of bullets on his head.

Above all isn't it time the Lankans moved on in time and thought as a Sri Lankan nation rather than either a Sinhalese or Tamilian.If we Indians can think Indians first & then our Individual race, why is it not possible for them ?.Shall we simply ask an Indian child to gift our planet earth's jigsaw puzzle pack to the Sinhalese, to sit back and assemble them once to bring in a realization that all their bloodshed history could simply be traced back to a simple geographical phenomenon on earth.

Spratt

spratt..spratt..spratt.After a few more times of spratting up & down, all the split end locks were down there heading straight in to the dust bin. What remained was just another chopped coriander bunch but in black. Liking falling leaves, this seem to be the season of falling hairs. Quiz anyone whom you know & they have no hesitation in pouring out their cup of woes on it. The price for built up stress gets paid in terms of falling hairs, I thought.

One of my ex manager wore a wig, only as a full stop to all this I believe.Though it looked just like natural hair, am sure he must have coughed up a heavy sum on it.Since he commutes in my shuttle everyday, I find him most of the times stroking his artificial hair may be just to make sure it’s still in place amidst the speedy winds against which the bus plys.On days when he falls asleep in the shuttle, like a dry smudged paint brush, I find some hair streaks pointing horizontal from his head.Not many who travel in our shuttle are aware of this,though they might have had deep elements of doubt at times.Oh! then it needs some cautious attention all the time.Mm… sporting a wig wasn't that easy,I learnt.

A boy cut was also there in my options list.Though some day I would love to experiment on it at least once,it didn't seem to fit the bill for the time being.The option of a fully shaven head was the simplest of all but considering mommy as my high priority,I had to give up on that option too. So instead of sporting something that looked similar to a rat’s tail (though it wasn't exactly like that in my case) which sufficiently lacked volume, the best way to hide it seemed to go for short coriander bunch like, you know.

Believe it or not, I had plaited locks brushing much below my hips until my school days. In fact those days I was a big time cry babe watching my hair creeping down causing me nothing but trouble. Because it meant more time devoted to comb,plait ,wash & dry when there were too many other essential things to accomplish early in the morning. And needless to say, more oil & more shampoo for it’s nourishment. Still for mommy’s sake I let it creep. There hadn't been a single day without the crib & cry while brushing my long locks. A day came, when mom angrily agreed to chop it off till my shoulder length after a provoked arguement. And my dream of sporting a short cute hair came true.

After my haircut, all that people did to me was a taken aback look followed by hollowed eye expressions, which I hated to the core. So I made sure when I became a college kid, I sport a short hair from day 1,probably with just a handful of plaits reaching just below my shoulders. So during every semester break, I promptly take a scissors myself and chop off my black creeper preventing it creep down further. And those times I used to hear from my friends that they shelled a pretty money to get their hair cut done.'Lady, you go walk in to a haircut salon donating both your hair and a huge sum?', I would check. But never did I knew in those days, that a day would come, when I will head straight in to a hair salon to give my hair the blissful experience of having it caressed by some hair experts. Until I met one, I honestly did not have any high regard for this designation on earth.'What a ridiculous idea to have coined such titles - Hair experts.Are people so jobless to master the art of handling & experimenting on hair leaving all other things on earth'.That was my initial reaction to the term 'hair expert'.

Years after I started working,on some repeated suggestions from few interesting friends around that a layer cut would give me that renewed smart & sporty look, I went ahead and fixed an appointment with some expert in a nearby International branded hair salon. Being not so sure of all the clear do’s & don’ts before a haircut from a hi-fi salon like the one I was heading to, I neatly shampooed my hair the same morning & dried it one last time, knowing that all would have gone by evening. I headed straight in to the salon, observing all the showcased hair styling products. When I stepped in,I realised that both the existing hair experts were men. When I waited for my turn, one expert curiously quizzed me to finalize my chosen style of layer cut. When I was almost ready for the spratt session, he revealed to me that they cut hair only after washing it themselves. 'How strange ?' I felt. He then guided me towards a dim lit wash area. Comforted me on a sliding chair. Wrapped my shoulders with a warm towel. Took my hair by his side. And began to fondle it. That was the first time a guy was shampooing my hair.Let me tell you,next to mom, he was the one privileged to do so.When he gently stroked the scalp for the first time, my stomach churned a little, with the realisation of a strange guy washing my hair.He used three different shampoos from three colourful bottles.Soon aroma filled my nostrils inducing some pleasant feelings.Slowly I realised, that should have been the best hair wash my scalp must have ever witnessed.Not even a single strand got uprooted.I never saw him pull, squeeze or twist my hair any time during the wash.Every thing he did was too gentle on the hair.My hair must have thanked him that day for all the agony it underwent in my hands. Such a wonderful hair wash experience except for a mild pain on my neck for having rested it on an elevated surface during the wash.

Post hair wash session, he wrapped my damp hair in yet another soft towel.Reminiscing such a pleasant hair wash under a dim light from some angelic hands which failed to pull out even a single strand,I moved towards the dressing table.When I faced my image crowned in a huge white turban,the wide mirror facilitated me in watching his toolkit right behind.By then, his companion helped him sterilize all the accessories one by one. Meanwhile based on some input from my hair wash expert, he came near me to peel away my white turban and feel the texture of my hair.His avid love for my bunch of dead cells were undeniably visible. He was so passionate in feeling my hair.In fact he never looked at my face, which I felt was much pretty than what he was fiddling with.

Finally all was set to begin my haircut.Looked like expert #2 wished to cut my hair.They had exchanged some words when the combs were sterilized.He began with a simple spratt at the end.Then parted my hair in to at least 6-7 sections to give his best part by part.His keen concentration never spilled away from my hair.He was looking through every cut of his.And each spratt was so professional that I could feel the difference from the spratts in other local salons.It was full of spratts from side to side,up to down and sometimes here and there.In one way I was patiently battling against boredom while the expert was at work.All this time expert #1 was watching him & his strokes.Both were equally qualified to my eyes & equally passionate of their profession.I took my words back on hair experts in one of those silent minute.

There is definitely some meaning in calling themselves as hair experts.It means so much in a way since I cannot claim to have combed my hair without at least 1 strand in my hand.Soon expert #1 took over from the other to style it after my much awaited layer cut.That took another 20 minutes.At the end of which I couldn't believe if am I the one with such beautiful hair with some cute curls at the end.I never knew they could be styled that way.Each strand stood replenished with a bright shiny look.All I simply had to do at the end was to tie them back which looked awesome even without tying.

At the end out of some self admiration from the relfecting mirror, cheerfully I swiped my card for half a grand plus taxes for my most memorable hair cut.He inferred the output of his work from my expressions.I looked so different after my haircut.They definitely made a difference to people who walked in to their salon. Apart from singing their praises,I even recommend people to experiment their hair in the hands of some expert at least once in their life time. Believe me it’s worth it & more so you will love it. When I visited home after a week from then with my short cute cut, needless to say like any typical middle class Indian mom, my mommy also had the shock of her life.Infact her smile froze on seeing my coriander bunch cross her eyes. To add fuel to the fire she was very curious to know how much I shelled out for the left over fistful bunch. As a responsible daughter I just told her a plain white lie just to calm her nerves, u know ?

Life in a nutshell

Came across this lovely poem named 'Ithaca' written around a centrury back by a greek poet named Constantine P. Cavafy.

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find the things like that on your way
as long as you keep thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony.
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

A Mind <-> Body Acquaintance

If you are expecting some deep insights on mind or body wellness here,well I exactly don't promise that.But couldn't find a more appropriate heading for the wholesome experience that I had.The place was B&J clinic,Chennai.Stepping out of the elevator on floor 3,pleasant & a merry mood dissolves the mind almost instantaneously in good melodies that the radio spills.Though occasionally it sounds like maternity ward with some loud cries of nerve twists & muscle triggers,ambience was much pleasant to ask for more.There was an urge to go back everyday to get well soon.Such was the magic of that place, I still believe.It was in destiny to revisit bone,muscle & nerve connections in my body right there,in a whole new feel.Doctor visits,ejection of huge cash in to their treasure boxes,yet no satisfied results.Not uncommon these days,to hear from medically ignorant folks like us.Contrary to all this,I had an holistic experience there replenishing my mind,body & soul in the most simplest way from one of the best hands.

It was day 1.Honestly with no big hopes,I handed my OP card to a physio there.The problem identified was a block of bone needed a fix in to it's original slot which was found displaced mildly.Almost like a lorry off it's track slightly, he simplified.Though not from the medical stream,my knowledge of biology until class12 failed to kick start ,blocking me from visualizing how could this be done on my knee without a cut open kinds.The treatment was to happen for the subsequent weeks until recovery.

The physio got in to action from the very next day.He left me in astonishment each following day,leaving me spell bound watching him passionately fix my bone in it's slot at the same time educating me on the do's & don'ts of this eternally perishable body.I felt remarkable changes from day 3 itself,which is when our conversations began to voice our minds.I have had so many misconceptions about my own body in particular & human body in general in spite of my regular readings on health & fitness.Each day he enlightened me with some amazing actions & adaptations of human body.There is so much to do with the mind than with the body,he made me realise.He taught me the technique of applying mind during a body workout,the results of which were simply mind blowing.He told me once, a workout even with a slight distracted mind can end up targeting the wrong muscle in the body.So he would applaud for simple correct efforts,which was definitely an inspiration at every stage.He confirmed more than half the ortho surgeries happening in the city hospitals can easily be avoided if doctors believe in good physiotherapists.Unfortunately lack of confidence in the existence of good physios in some challenging cases & a strong belief in their own mastered surgical art adds up the count of ortho surgeries happening everyday,he opened up once.

The wish for a quick & steady recovery was more for this physio whose hands worked magic than me as a fearful patient, at times.Everyday he thoroughly enjoyed his play over delicate invisible objects like bones & joints with at most care,serious caution & his inherent passion.He made sure it's just not a physio - patient interaction.He enquired on the where abouts of each person on whom he worked his magic.He said it's a way to connect to his patients to heal them well.In that way our chemistry was just perfect,I felt.

Being open minded,willingness to help people, a sound knowledge in his profession, zest to fix injuries, urge to care with personalized attention & a wish to heal his patients didn't seem like ordinary qualities of this hand picked physio, by god, for my quick recovery.His was a telling tale of an upcoming physio who has a bright & a blessed future awaiting his door steps in the coming years. This three year experienced pro also showed everybody out there ,the way to go.Compliment him,he simply loves to pass on the credit to his co therapists for whom he has great admiration, in a humble self depreciating tone, recalling his journey from a suburb to city,at times.

The therapy employed simple everyday insignificant objects like bags,balls,bands & wands to strengthen & improve a specific part of the body in significant ways.What a stream of science,it made me wonder.Unlike the shabby delicate external wounds,physiotherapy is to do much with invisible internal injuries.Though no blood by sight,bones seem to be their core fight (oh,that's from the awe fully blunt poet inside me).

A world away from all this,being bitten by the herd syndrome for having chosen my profession, finally I was left with no choice but to ignore the benefits of a good conceptual weekly body workout and it's awesome benefits, all these years.My physio elucidated how important an occasional stretch is,what a simple resistant exercise can do,why deep breaths are essential & what sipping water frequently does, in an otherwise mundane,stress built life of a core IT Pro.Recently I read a health quote which said,those who cannot find time for regular fitness,will soon have to find time for illness.My piece of advice to my own self will be, to make time for fitness amidst importantly appearing unimportant activities.Having said that, only I know how difficult it is to find this small measure of time everyday to sync up the mind with body.

A lady about 75 years,whom i befriended while there gave me a piece of advice which was more than a thoughtful timely gift.She walked up to me one day quite cheerfully,with her replaced knees and said,'Remember my young lady,at any time in your life don't ever become flabby,which is the worst struggle against yourself '.Quite true ,for having battled against my flabs myself in the recent past years.In a random attempt I once imbibed, human soul as a complex manifestation of one's mind+body during a life time & beyond.In simplest way,a fit body together with an unclogged mind paves way to a pleasant soul.(No doubt the vice-versa is true as well, which I might rediscover & etch somewhere when I wander as a jobless soul) .Back to life,doesn't matter if you are a physio, a plumber or a programmer,relishing simple earthly joys in the mind, engulfed in one's healthy body is just priceless,I realized.Can there be a more blessing than this ?

Before the treatment ended,he brought my lorry back on track.Finally with my pain relieved & profession revealed, my physio taxed a bill of 6k for the whole bone mending & fixing program.But for having obtained value for every single penny I spent there,I had no regrets.But my physio had a slight sigh & a little big eye on the huge salaries that my entire community of cyber cooleys draw every month.In three fortnights,having spent time closely with my physio & few of his eminent subordinates,I only realised the amount of blessings banked by them for relieving millions of pains over multiple months,though they don't mint little extra money like us.On the contrary,being a couch potato all day long in some wrong body postures,consuming mindless cups of caffeine,building up the good for nothing stress & refusing to take even few deep breaths,I just wondered with all the money banked by us month after month,without much thought & time for either simple pleasures or some long term health & fitness plans,where are we seriously heading to?.I just had one thing to tell my sighing physio 'The grass is always greener on the other side', stretching my quadriceps, pondering the simple mind <->body experience that happened in me during our rendezvous.

Did slumdog make us dumb dogs?

Oh,now don't fume on this title, please. I really want to know if it's true. From the hands of a British director what took shape from an Indian plot & cast, finally won an American award. At the end of the day slumdog is just the summation of these. But we hyped it so much that watching the movie became less significant than watching it's terrific reviews,trailers, debates and fights for more than a month now. From various angles cracked by media & journals in bits and pieces across various news streams,i would like to ponder again by asking ,did slumdog really make us dumb dogs, for a reaffirmation.

Didn't we act so dumb by sulking on the very name of the movie?.Our anger and resentment burst out more for the movie name revealing doggy attitude with which we personify the animal in our minds than for seeing such sorry but true images of India. As someone pointed out, is an image more important than true living conditions ?How long do we want to see stories with posh Indian houses & faces. At least slumdog wasn't named with any intention with which we imbibe the title. And it had a much deeper and a strong message conveying the World & India. Don't you think what Karan Johar didn't do in his movies was done by Danny Boyle ?Shouldn't we pick up the thread from somewhere to disentangle it.?Atleast should we hate Boyle for this ?

The movie made us dumb by spreading viral emotions. We jumped to conclusions saying how could a foreign director shoot us back with a movie like this. In spite of growing beyond a 100 crore brain pool bound by a nation,none of us could even collectively come up with a working plan to eradicate or at least alleviate such sorry basic living conditions of millions which still is multiplying everyday,across the country. If i were to understand my fellow Indian minds from an emotional angle, if bringing slums of daravi in the maximum city of India to the limelight for non feel good reasons hurt them,did any of the money laden Indian or a Mumbai's big shot ever choose to make a 0.0000001 % difference to the living condition of a single slum dweller and his family in a significant way ? At least Danny Boyle felt the need to give back from his profits which he didn't have to.

At last they made us dumb struck by crediting two Indian talents behind the movie with some believed to be prestigious awards, across the world. Did we cease to celebrate this ?Or did we stop ourselves from being so proud the very moment, two Indians gripped the until now untouched solid mass of gold, from this land?.Are we telling ourselves that talent in India deserves a global recognition but poverty in the same country deserves just millions of blind eyes & no pair hands to act on ?

The Forbidden Kitchen

For a soup starting, you might want to know two things during the due course of this write-up.One – who Kylie Kwong originally is.Well though I take the liberty of presuming you know who she is, just in case you don’t, can you set a reminder on ‘travel & living’ in your television to watch the Kylie Kwong show very next time it's featured. Two – This write-up is not on her but about my In-house Kylie Kwong.For having read In-house,it's very natural for you to have assumed that it's about either of the damsel's at my home but as a disappointing revelation, it’s my dad. Mm ...this write-up is serving me as a frying pan to sprout all that's stacked in, on my in-house Kylie Kwong.

It all started years back, like a kind gentleman who gave his sweet wife a helping hand at the kitchen during few needy hours. Be it making a simple omelet for the kids or scooping out idllis in to a hot pack. Slowly he took over the kitchen during weekends, sometimes trying his hand all three times a day. Ignorantly we began to be the victims of his stints at the kitchen table. When he was a tyro, his so called creative dishes like oil less bonda & nutty gritty upma (full of awful combinations of non bendable nuts than heaps of sooji itself) were tested on us ruthlessly.Honestly we weren't realizing what we were slipping in to.'What a wonderfully understanding man to whom you are married'have heard many say this to the deserving lady, not knowing what we all really underwent. In the hustle-and-bustle of those busy growing up years, it was great having something ready to eat, at the very mention of hunger pangs at work. He pride fully played the role of an instant chef to all three of us deriving dishes out of no where. Again years rolled by when one day I realized it's this very man behind my inability to even make a decent cup of tea. During my little leisure hours at home, whenever I look forward to try something at the kitchen, I already find him chopping and stirring something in his culinary lab. I simply joined the cookery class in my junior college when I had an optional elective, the only way that was left to kick start my culinary skill.Due to lack of opportunities and a lab space to experiment and learn during those zestful years, I cannot honestly claim myself as a good cook even today. No one might know my real story behind the forbidden kitchen. After graduation I left home, spent years as paying guest at another home & my story of denied cooking opportunities continued further.During this time, back at home there came a point when mom was advised not to strain by standing even for those continuous minutes that was required in the kitchen. Which is when the Kylie Kwong at home was literally born, I presume. So the entire kitchen came under his complete kingdom. Initially we mistakenly pitied him for having to undergo this. He received accolades from every kith n kin for juggling this extra ball in his life when he could have found easy alternatives. But slowly we all were getting the signs.

Apart from being a man of near perfectionist,his interest in following current affairs,comprehending precise reason behind every rise and fall in stock market and being a wealth of information to anyone, anytime on anything and everything, his ardent passion for Chinese kooking and the urge to possess a fully equipped gadget kitchen, surfaced evidently. The best chef's cookery shows in the television were handpicked & been watched without fail. During his preliminary stages in the kitchen it was Mallika Badrinath.A graduation happened when he was fantasizing Sanjeev Kapoor. Then suddenly in the recent years he advanced with his new found guru Kylie Kwong. You can just find joy bubbling on his face at the very mention of her name.There is no question of missing her kookery shows come what may. He makes careful observations on every cookery tip that spills out of her mouth. May be Kwong is dad's twin or master soul, it set me thinking. The remote tightly clutched signaled that nothing else could even be thought of watched at those hours. While dad virtually lives in the world of 'Kylie Kwong & her kooking' during her shows, moms eyes stay focused only on him and his expressions.Gradually off Kylie Kwong shows we saw her in him. Minutes after KK's kooking ends on TV, he energizes himself to be the KK in kitchen. He pounds garlic with the same zest, chops veggies in the same style and sprinkles spices just like her.Gradually he kick started kooking his own Kwong kind of food, half cooked, half watery, half Indian, half Chinese, half edible & the rest absolutely inedible. These days whether what he cooks is Chinese or Indian, his Chinese herbs & spices are ubiquitous. And those awful soups that he learnt from Kwong.Oh my Chinese god … I feel a puking sensation churning in my stomach at the very mention of it.

The kitchen too underwent a gradual revamp as per KK’s weekly suggestions and tips. There was this same kind of mini glass jars cloning itself in an alarming rate on the kitchen shelves. Then these puzzling Chinese herbs one after the other found their entry in those jars. Some puzzling & others awfully aromatic. From where and when he fetches them, we really don't know. Then the oil cans underwent a super rich look with pods of garlic and red chillies soaked in them. Then the spoons, some interestingly shaped vessels & most importantly, the knives. Now we have at least 10 different varieties of knives at home. One for the huge kinds like watermelon n pumpkin, the handy flat ones for meat and fish, thin one for onions & tomatoes, cross one for dicing vegetables,sleek one for slicing them and another one for chopping them finely. For years many we lived without a peeler. We now have one from US, one from Far East & one from local Chinese market. Scissors to cut & curl the corianders and curry leaves. A sharp one, a blunt one, a semi sharp and a semi blunt as if catering to the needs of a wedding kitchen. You know, anyone from abroad visiting home have no confusion on what to pick for dad. It will be some latest kitchen gadget or an accessory. The gift unwrapping moment will definitely be his moment of ecstasy. He still gets international additions in the kitchen this way.He decided that our kitchen too, had the essential of essentials as per Kwong by exactly replicating what he saw in her Kitchen. Following that the kitchen obtained a face lift with newly bought microwave, instant juice blender, silent coffee blender, feather touch hand mixer, egg poacher, egg beater, variety of ladles in new shapes n sizes, colorful frying pans, zodiac coffee mugs, trendy glass bowls, airtight containers, vodka martini glasses(though we are all purely nonvodka folks), variety of strainers, handy lemon squeezer, elegant measuring jars, the handy mortar & it’s complementary pestle, auto ignition stove and this list goes endless.Then the must have stocks in the kitchen – again as per Kwong, I presume, like the colorful Chinese sauces, mashed potato powder, multiple flavors of brown & green teas, handy herbs,nourishing nuts and plenty of super secret spices half of which I bet has nothing to do in an otherwise bland cooking south Indian home like mine.

ooff....nobody at home is spared of his kooking. Come weekends still he continues with his signature dishes. Needless to say, these days its tailor made Chinese for some pitiable Indians at home. For many weekends now, it's been the same huge thick soupy vegetable stocks in which soaked, all left over veggies in fridge, stirred in to the biggest bowl at home, for some of which mom who would have had plans in the coming week. Keeping which crowd he prepares in such huge quantity week after week, god only knows. When it’s aromatically Indian, the taste definitely will have his Chinese touch. And during weekends when it’s aromatically Chinese, we can’t blindly bet on an Indian taste. We are left with no choice but to aid finishing it by the end of every weekend. Otherwise, the signature dish will be secretly refrigerated in its upper deck and will show up the following weekend for the kind of rich ingredients and flavors that had gone in.Mom lost her say longtime back when it comes to her now forbidden kitchen. And so did I. Only during those rare occurrences when he isn’t home during weekends, mom makes some authentic south Indian delicacy for me. Hands down she deserves a place in heaven just for this. When her man returns home on such days, his tempting hands try tarnishing such authentic food with his KK recommended spices to leave them inauthentic, in his new found style. Interesting to dad but insulting to mom sometimes my neighbors aware of his regular weekend signature dishes, would plan to take a portion of it to get rid of their weekend cooking plans. And the post week, they would peep in to applaud him for his effort. Mom would feel like dashing herself against one of that kitchen accessory. Since every atom in the kitchen is his favorite, he is so possessive about even a box or a cup lent to the neighbor. Here comes mom’s embarrassing moments when she has to track these missing items just for him.

Looks like i have revealed too many things about mommy's man.On her humble request, am letting the curtain down here but not without mentioning our Mango phobic memories. When I was in sixth grade, once he had a compulsive urge to make a bottle of mango pickle himself even without a tip from anyone around. His sis, a pickle expert in the family too was ignored from consulting. On a bright sunny Saturday morning, he decided to drop us all in schools and was on his mission - buying mangoes aptly for his pickle proceedings. To his delight since the mangoes were aptly ripe for pickling, he landed home with a tub full of mangoes. They were washed,sliced and pickled finally. To his disaster surprise he realized that he added salt to his generosity.Nothing could be done since the pickles were in huge portions bottled and found all over the kitchen. Mom instructed us to consume curd rice - salt + dad's disaster pickle for the whole summer vacation. At the end of vacation only ten percent of the pickle got over. We were the perfect victims of that disaster pickle until the next summer vacation. During this time, mausi visited us to stay for a fortnight. This pickle story came to her notice and she recommended adding some more mangoes, in a way by adding salt to our existing injurious mangoes. We lived with this disastrous pickle for another year. During the third summer vacation, when the pickle tasted decent enough as a pickle, mom clicked on this idea of gifting everybody who visited home, a bottle of his disaster pickle. You know we lived with this pickle for almost three full years. If you ask me, until now these ‘not so easy to forget’ pickle episode had been his best worst experiment on us.

Just in case you feel all this might be a fictitious exaggeration,you definitely got to be home for a weekend to risk your taste buds at least once. These days while dining outside with friends,I can’t get much wilder at the very mention of some one suggesting a Chinese hangout.Oops this isn't getting better ... let me sign-off but with a small suggestive note for you. After all this if you plan to drop by for a lunch or dinner at my place, specially on a weekend,u have a bravery award waiting from this house of kk, though not from kk himself.