Envy

That’s not an emotion I like to entertain but then there has been one friend of mine whom I have been envious of for quite a few years now. Its been a standing emotion as pertains to my feelings towards him and its never gone away.

We were batch-mates for degree, studying three years in the same college, part of the same extended group that hung out together. After degree, as commonly happens, our group went different ways in search of our own places in society. My search took me to Chennai to do my MBA and subsequently pursue my career there. His search took him to Coimbatore which is only 3 hours from my home town Thrissur, where he completed his MBA as well. The only difference was that he chose to get a job which posted him back to our home town. Our common group of friends, including myself, felt it was not a good career move that he had decided on. Don’t get me wrong, I love Thrissur, its my home town and I appreciate it for a lot of things. Career prospects, however, is not amongst the many things I like Thrissur for.

While the rest of us were experiencing new adventures of striking out on our own, molding our personalities to incorporate city sophistication and learning the power of earning (read spending) salaries on stuff you don’t get to do or buy in Thrissur, he was still back at home and we felt missing out on life.

How naïve we tend to be? Once the metro glamour started wearing thin and rose spectacles started to come off, we started to notice smaller things. The unavailability of home cooked food, no mum to take care of you when you fell sick, working much longer hours, body starting to complain about the abuse it was being subjected to, long travels on a daily basis just to reach place of work………Despite all these things nagging me, I still managed to convince myself that I did have the best deal yet. After all who was earning more? I wasn’t sure if I was, actually, however, since I was in a metro and he in a B/C city I felt logically it had to be me. Gloom befell me, when I started thinking in terms of savings and not earnings. My superiority complex soon translated itself into the reverse.

Self realization is not all that it’s cut out to be. Perhaps my experiences and the exposures I have been lucky to have are an asset which I can’t express in any physical countable terms but somehow when I compare my lifestyle to his, I sometimes feel that I wouldn’t mind trading in those things for the simple yet wholesome life he is leading today.

I recently phoned him up to say I was in town and to check how he is doing. Quite busy these days, since he is on the organizing committee for an all Kerala cricket tournament to be held in Thrissur next month. He did share with me two personal philosophies of life –

1. He refuses to get anxious about career growth, do your work well within the office hours and leave office tensions at workplace…….. 

2. Be involved in sports, it keeps your mind and body young so much so that your attitude towards life remains young as well.

Simple philosophies and yet leads to a much happier life I think. 

Quite a lot has passed since I last blogged….. some good some really good

First of all I would like to announce my state of pregnancy J which is why I am in Kerala right now. I will be here till after my delivery which is to be in June.

My sister-in-law’s wedding took place in November and we had a good function and everyone who attended was full of praises. Although I wasn’t one of the proud parents, at the end of the function I felt quite drained from all the tension of ensuring everyone was taken care of, details were not missed and customs were followed properly and on time. Gosh, I can now hazard a guess on how harried parents feel when they get their off-springs married off.  Don’t get me wrong here, I do enjoy Indian weddings and all the customs but sometimes I wonder if a simple affair in a holy place followed by a party for all relatives and friends would be more to my taste. Anyways, my sister in law is now happily married and I am glad to hear from her calls how well she has settled into her new home. :) Gosh I sound so old don’t I?

Of course then came the down part of my pregnancy, in my first trimester I had very bad bouts of morning sickness. The temperature was running at a freezing minus 10 degrees and there were days when we were snowed in and quite stranded at home. I felt miserable during that time and I badly wanted my mummy. Not at all grown up am I? Anyways luckily for me my in laws had travelled back with us to the UK and my mother in law tried different recipes to entice me to have something. We didn’t want the delivery to be in UK so I planned to come down ahead in time and returned back to Kerala.

I guess the cold weather was aggravating my morning sickness which tended to not have the decency to restrict itself to only mornings! Anyways once I was back home I started feeling right as rain.

Everyone talks of the pregnancy glow and how beautiful mothers-to-be look. I have yet to evidence that, I lost all sense of grace, sophistication and beauty during my first trimester. There is something about vomiting, hogging food, burping and farting that leaves a lot to be desired for. The one good thing though is you don’t feel guilty over your expanding waistline and your tendency to cut short conversations to head towards the kitchen. :)

To my delight a lot of my friends are in the same state as I am and share my due month of June, so its phone calls to exchange notes on gynaec visits. So that’s how my days go now. :)

JAM BOY

Something I heard about quite recently and didn’t know whether I felt more saddened or shocked. The definition of this term according to urban dictionary - 'Jamboy's' were young colored boys who were smeared with jam to attract all the bugs and insects away from the rich golfers. If they were successful, they got to keep the pot jam! And for trivia, it is still possible to hire a jamboy in some countries!

Shaiwal has a colleague who is Scottish by birth and who is totally enamored by India, after his stay in Mumbai for almost a year. His name is Alli, short for Allistair. Alli loves to discuss India, its festivals, its ways, etc… and so invariably seeks out a conversation with Shaiwal. During one such conversation Alli mentioned that there is a golf course in Mumbai near Mahalakshmi where Jam Boys were and possible still are used. Young Indian boys, possibly from the streets, hired to put jam on themselves so that the ‘whites’ could play golf peacefully. A practice instigated during the 'RAJ' in the different colonies under it.

How disgusting a human that golfer would have to be to allow a small child willfully attract insects and get bitten? Did the golfer think that being brown skinned and from poverty meant that these boys didn’t get sick or feel the bite? I cant begin to imagine how the mind of such ‘whites’ would have worked to have introduced this inhumane custom in the first place

While my blood boiled in rebellion over such atrocity, a part of mind also started wondering, if this custom were to be brought to a halt today, then would these Jam boys be thankful or would they be unhappy over having a source of income taken away? Human rights and talk of such are indeed the privilege of those who have their tummy’s full and their heads covered!

A day at London

I was nominated to go for a workshop this Friday at London, so I flew down yesterday morning and then flew back in the evening. In case you didn’t notice I was showing off there. :)

 

Felt quite the working woman when I made my way through the London Tube changing train after train and then reaching my office. There is something amazing about London that automatically make your steps faster, your mind goes on overdrive and your facial muscles are arranged to make you look grim and goal oriented. No one seemed friendly and no one was bothered about that fact. The city pulse was throbbing and landing there during the peak office travel hours you couldn’t help but get swept into the tide.

The workshop was a good learning and a gruelling one where an audience of 25 were fit into a small room and not let out till we managed to cover everything on the agenda. Although Friday is supposed to be casual dressing day at offices in general, I found the crowd smartly dressed, some in 3 piece suits and some in designer jeans. My colleague at office had given me a heads up on that so I had dressed accordingly as well and I knew I wasn’t sticking out like a sore thumb. The girl inside me though felt like a village bumpkin with no polish or sophistication but happy to look at all these smartly dressed people in awe. I guess that sort of egged me on to be a bit aggressive during the workshop, an attempt to not be ignored. :)

I was glad to be done with it and then meet up with my friend Smitha V. She is from Karnataka, married and settled in London but currently staying in Edinburgh due to work reasons. A spunky friendly genuine person whom I am happy to have befriended. Anyways she was in London for the week, so I met her and her husband straight after work and after another series of train changes. They took me home and there I lapsed into awe inspired speechlessness. Her home looked like a five star hotel with a doorman and the corridors exactly how the best of Taj would keep them. Once inside her apartment she has an awesome view of the Thames and all the best attractions of London – Greenwich, London Eye, St Pauls Cathedral, etc. It’s a triplex not a duplex with the bedrooms on floor 2, the bathroom on floor 1 and the sitting room on ground floor. The windows start from waist high and go right up to the ceiling, covering the entire expanse of the wall. Suddenly got the feeling that I was rubbing shoulders with the rich and hadn’t been aware of it for so long.

However, I must say that the couple is very down to earth, the house is filled with articles from India and they were quite blasé about their status. I was happy to be there because I was happy to talk to them and enjoyed their company. I felt happy that my friends were in good position and I hope god will always keep them so.

When I was returning back I kept trying to picture myself in such a flat and I kept thinking how out of place I would be amidst such posh surroundings. It just didn’t feel right for me, it was good to see Smitha and her husband in those surroundings though. I kept trying to analyse if I was jealous – I WASN’T, I truly wasn’t and that surprised the hell out of me. I would have thought the normal reaction would be one of envy and aspiration. It didn’t fall well with me that I was quite unambitious…..hmmmm, the working woman with no ambition, not a good thing is it?

Anyways, got back home by 10:30 in the night and considering the day started at 3:30AM for me, I was happy to just get back and let my hair down, have a quite cup of tea with my husband and chat the day through with him. Now that’s life. :)

Dabangg

Its been a while since I saw an entertaining movie, so watching Dabangg was definitely an enjoyable experience. The keyword here is 'entertaining'. The movie is not an intellectually challenging one or a movie with a statement to make and it doesn't claim to be one from the start. However it was fun to watch a movie that so resembled the 80's genre of Hindi movies that somewhere in between i caught myself searching for Jeetendra and Mithun.

Two brothers each with a girlfriend of his own, no complications of a love triangle there. A villainous step father who accepts the step son when the mother passes away. A villain who has no secret agenda but is evil. In fact there was nothing to guess or rack your brains with. You could sit back and just go through the motions of family drama which we are all familiar with. The ever predictable ending of family coming together and good triumphing over evil.

The movie is an out and out masses movie and I am sure one which will be seen by many at least more than once in the theatre. So when I saw a very direct message of polio vaccination well woven into the script, I felt very proud of the film. It was definitely a good medium to do so and showed a sense of commitment to public health.

Sonakshi Sinha, daughter of Shatrughnan Sinha debuted in the movie. While we had a good run of medium sized heroines after the long legged ones from the 80's, it looks like the wave is turning again - what with Katrina Kaif, Kareena Kapoor, Deepika Padukone, Sonam Kapoor and now Sonakshi. She looks earthy and even with the perpetual frown in the movie quite fetching to look at. Portrayed as a small city girl, it was refreshing to see the heroine in Indian attire throughout the movie in keeping with the character. Most movies you start out seeing the heroine in Indian garb and then midway through she is running around the trees in her mini skirts looking as if she was brought up in USA after all.

Salman looks old and well he should, being 45, however he still hasn't lost his charm. Although I am not sure he can carry more such movies, as this movie is quite similar to his movie - Wanted which was released not long ago. Hats off though for taking on both a villain and a heroine who look taller than him and still coming out the hero whom girls can swoon for.

So for those of you who are looking out for a chance to let go and laugh please go ahead and watch the movie. For those of us who don't please stay away, the headache wouldn't be worth it. For my part I loved the movie for making me laugh crazy and helping me shed my office tensions with seemingly no effort at all.

Grand Finale

And so the Edinburgh festival came to an end, the tourists are still loitering the city streets, albeit fewer in number and the festival theatres have started to wear a deserted look. The city is settling into autumn with the winds getting colder, the leaves turning brown and temperatures not daring to to go beyond 18 degrees.

Before bidding farewell the Edinburgh festival did have its Grand Finale. A lovely concert was organised in the gardens below the Edinburgh Castle. While connoisseur's of music who were rich as well chose to buy tickets and attend the concert, lesser mortals like myself decided to wander around the streets near the gardens where strains of music floated through. The concert was followed by a display of fireworks.

People around me had been raving on and on about the fireworks days before the actual grand finale and each time I heard them, I thought to myself that I come from Trichur and whatever else, fireworks are something we are good at. In fact I felt that the Edinburgh festival fireworks could never match the splendour of Thrissur pooram fireworks. I must admit that I still continue to hold my view after watching the Grand Finale, however, my conscience says that it is my fondness for my hometown which forbids me to think otherwise.

The scots are quite creative, they had music (compositions from great English music maestro's) running in the background and then orchestrated the fireworks in tune with the music playing. The fireworks were so well orchestrated that they arranged themselves like military arrangements, in perfect lines and crosses. With the Edinburgh Castle as the backdrop, the fireworks worked to accentuate the history and culture of Edinburgh. There were times when you felt the castle was lit as prettily as our houses in India is during Diwali and then there were times when you felt the castle was on fire and it needed to be rescued. Almost as if to convey that

the scots had times of harmony and peace and then times of turmoil. Perhaps that's fanciful thinking on my side but I sure did enjoy the fireworks.

Ballet and Ustad Zakir Hussain

Shaiwal and i went to watch a ballet performance here. The primary reason being that Ustad Zakir Hussain was playing at the ballet. I have never been to a ballet before and i was keen to experience it and add a touch of culture to my existence. 

I vaguely remember being taken to a ballet class when i was perhaps in the 1st standard or so, the idea was to get students interested and then if they wished to enroll them into the class. The idea never registered - I went, I watched and I wandered away. The entire concept and image of ballet was so foreign to me that i just couldn't imagine being part of it, that and the fact that I have two left feet. :)

My night at a ballet performance was a night of many firsts. The first time i have been to an English theatre, the first time i saw a ballet performance and the first time i had heard Ustad Zakir Hussain playing live.

When i entered the theatre it felt like i had been transported to a different world. The first floor had a bar where the audience could partake in any alcohol they wished provided it wasn't beer or something as shabby. The floors had been carpeted a magnificent red and all through the decor remained stately and grand. As we were seated i looked around to take in the size of the theatre, there were box seats for people who were the truly rich and famous, people in the audience had brought along their opera glasses to watch the stage through, the stage itself was at 9 ft and it was 25 ft tall with different types of lighting available on top of the stage and throughout the theatre to create the desired effect.

As soon as the ballet dancers started their performance, everyone went hush. My ignorance of the dance form came to forefront as i failed to garner what the dancers were trying to convey. I did however feel in awe of how beautiful and flexible the human form could be - both male and female. The dances had nary an extra ounce of flesh on them and their skin taut with muscles rippling. I know i sound like a bad Mills and Boon edition there but I cant seem to put together a better description of these dancers. :)

I must confess though that after a point i got bored, there is only so much you can appreciate of the human form and only so much time you can take to do it. So after the first half of the performance i felt disappointed in myself that i wasn't able to enjoy it as much as those around me seemed to be able to.

During the break after the first half there were volunteers bearing food items to serve the audience, since i didn't want to miss out on any part of the whole experience. I went up to buy their wares, turned out they were selling ice cream. However I hadn't seen that particular brand of ice cream in the supermarkets here. Anyways I didn't want to disappoint the lady selling them so I brought one each for ourselves.

The second half was one of the best nights of my life. Zakir Hussain started playing then, he wove his magic slowly but steadily. One of the surprises I had was that I didn't realise he could sing. During the show he did sing and I guess he is a trained Hindustani singer as well. The ballet dancers picked up too and soon they were sprinting from one end of the stage to the other and back at the speed of wind. The audience began tapping their feet and the whole theatre felt alive.

I am sure technological advances have brought in a whole range of  superior audio systems and speakers but I wonder if they can truly match the experience of live music. Having never owned any such superior system I know I am biased when I think - perhaps not.