getting hitched

The journey from Chennai to Melbourne is a long one. While most people find it dreadfully dull to travel alone, I personally look forward to it. The solitude of one's own thoughts is hard to come by and what better place to garner it than on long flights and busy airports where there is no compulsive obligation to converse.

Well, slight change of plans this time, a friend's mum who is travelling alone, is to join me...a sweet elderly lady who speaks only Tamil. The language barrier should douse any possibility of small talk...well, at least that's what I thought. But the idea of an Indian girl travelling alone always seems to spark an annoying curiosity in most people...it wasn't too long before I faced the usual barrage, 'Are you married?', 'Oh...how old are you?', 'Ohhhhh...when will you get married?'...all in a jumble of Tamil, English and hand gestures. While I usually conjure up a certain rude hand gesture in my mind for such remarks, I can't help but smile at the lady's genuine consternation on my 'still single' status. If only we spoke a common language she would probably have advised me over the next fourteen hours and then topped it off with tips on how to find a groom...thank heavens for linguistic barriers.

Well, I've given up trying to explain that people like me should stay single...otherwise the world might explode. Even so, the groom hunting/match making techniques that get thrown at you are quite amusing.

The one I have come across the most is to deck up on Sunday and go to church. What better place to hook a boy than at a religious venue. Or better still, join the church choir...that way one would be in plain sight of the entire congregation...there's bound to be at least one sucker who would fall for you..now isn't that a foolproof idea...

I had a work friend who once extended an invitation to a Friday evening dinner with a group of her friends. While I certainly didn't doubt the genuineness of the invitation, I was a a bit wary about being asked to spent an evening with a bunch of ladies who were not exactly in my age group. As it turns out, some of them had eligible bachelor sons and I was essentially being invited to a 'potential daughter-in-law inspection' (or whatever it's called) massacre!

While most parents are still grappling with finding their way around matrimony websites...there are some who go a step further. Came across the interview of an elderly couple on television some time back. I reckoned they might be the parents of some big star...but that didn't explain why they kept flashing the picture of a large, balding guy at regular intervals. Turns out, it was some kind of a 'showcase your eligible bachelor son' show... interested parents of eligible daughters are requested to get in touch with the family. Jeez..for cryin out loud.

While some of the stuff I have heard over the years are actually workable, occasionally one does come across suggestions that make one's eyes pop out. The latest one that I heard was to hit university alumni websites...look for eligible bachelors and hunt them down. Everyone knows that if the guy studied at a good uni, he's bound to be good husband material....WHATEVER!!!

'Being single is pretty good. It's a nice sense of irresponsibility' - Michael Douglas

the curls are back...

After two years of getting used to the double turns and cat calls, I decide its time to bury the glossy super straight look. Well its not that easy to get rid of the hair straightening bug, but I convince myself that maybe its time to give my natural (read: awfully frizzy) hair another chance.

So I book myself into this place that looks and sounds extremely snooty and pricey....'Shibui' in South Yarra, Melbourne. Was a bit apprehensive about putting Indian hair in the hands of stylists who probabaly deal more with Aussie hair. Anyway, I get an appointment with Tommy Ward, one of their juniormost (and more reasonably priced) stylist. Well as it turns out, I had nothing to worry about, coz in the one and half hrs (yeah...thats how long my hair was pampered!) I spent there, Tommy's skillful fingers worked magic on my hair. Not only did he patiently listen to me whinge about my hair troubles, but he also gave me an absolutely fabulous hair cut. And for the first time ever I got the right styling advice. (I still cringe when I remember the time my hair was backcombed for a 'poofy' effect...gawd the frizzy knots I had to deal with!!)

So finally the last of the straight ends have been chopped off and my curls are back. Not quite sure if I want to keep my hair this short but its definitely a much more 'me' look.

My first post is over six months...woohoo I'm back... :)

Its been a while since I have blogged...a disconcerting indicator how uneventful my life has become. Oddly unsettling as it may seem, there has however been a certain imp, who has been keeping my weekends busy and my camera going berserk. So here is a post dedicated to my nephew, Niku.... the things about you little fella, that make me wonder...

...how when you flash that wide grin, your eyes become little slits...you could give those cute Chinese babies a run for their money.

...the zeal with which you gobble up beans and peas...I doubt if your Mommy will ever have to yell at you to "Eat your veggies!!"

...how when your upset, your baby lips form into the perfect downward droop...the 'sad smiley' look...makes me melt.

...your queer obsession of throwing potatoes and onions all over the kitchen floor. How many times have we caught you with your grubby little hands in the potato basket...heck didn't your momma once catch you chewing on one of the red onions???!!!

…that tune you hum when I give you a ride on my back…its like I'm carrying around baby Mozart

...the relish with which you pop rubbish into your mouth... at least spare the dead insects!!!

…how you prance about on your toes, flailing your arms around…what a clumsy little Peter Pan you'd make.

…how you hide behind the curtains and think nobody can see you…I hate to burst your bubble but the little feet peeking out from the bottom give you away each time

…the uncanny resemblance to 'Calvin and Hobbes' when you walk around dragging that oversized, stuffed tiger.

…how any creature with eyes and a nose is 'bow bow' to you…you've really been offending the cats by calling them that.

…that merry look on your face when you see your four little teeth in the mirror…it's quite a sight to see you flaunt your ivories.

…how that tuft of hair on the back of your head is perpetually longer than the rest of your hair, no matter how often your dad trims it.

I could go on with this list, but it's the weekend and I gotta go visit the little chap…coz the thing about him that I love the most is the look of glee on his chubby face when he sees me.

Baby Steps

Little Niku just took his first few steps. The family's run into a frenzy. Poor fella has no clue why his mom's whooping with joy and his dad can't stop grinning. Come to think of it...this is probably among the most celebrated milestones in a person's life; one that brings nothing but pure joy to the parents... I wonder how many whoops there would be when he goes off teary eyed on his first day to school or takes up that awesome job in another city or brings home a bride of his choice :P

Hmm..can't wait for the first tooth to appear...

Chennai-Noida-Orlando-Noida-Chennai

Just received an email from an old friend..."So where are you based out of these days?" he asks.

Good question...I would have to say..."out of a suitcase"

Two years after I thought I had left Noida for good...I had to pack my bags and go back for what I can only be thankful for...a short term assignment. Pity though that nothing has changed in this place. Most members of the male species...right from the rickshaw walas to the nice looking gentlemen will leer at anything that's female. Although, their perseverance does amaze me...once they catch sight of female footwear in the passenger leg space of an auto rickshaw, even the crazy traffic cannot deter them from craning their necks to have peek into the back seat of the auto where I am trying to make myself invisible. Hmm...maybe I should try wearing men's shoes the next time.

The traffic norms are mind boggling...its actually safer to keep driving when the signal is red...coz if you don't the guys behind you choose to use their weapon of mass ear splittuction (ok...thats not a real word)...this is one place where your car horn can actually make the vehicle ahead of you go faster. Although, watch out when the signal turns green...thats when the Schumachers on the other side think its alright to cut across in their Ferraris.

But I must say, this part of the country does have gorgeous looking people...sadly looks aren't everything :(

After a few fun weeks of reacquainting myself with the city and catching up with old mates...I flew to Orlando...a city that got me sun burnt and rain drenched on the very day that I landed. Touted to be one of the most popular tourist destinations in the United States, I did my routine google search on "places to visit and things to do". All I got was theme parks and water parks...hmmm kind of a damper for someone with an immense aversion to amusement parks. Not that I have anything against them...its just that my only reaction after a high speed/revolving/bumpy ride is a revolting urge to throw up on the person sitting next to me. Seems like a waste of money (10,000 bucks...are you freakin kidding me!!!) when I can get the same reaction by swinging my nephew around. Anyway, we did find a bunch of beaches that were quite nice. The night life, though not much, was pretty fun too...especially one particularly raucous place (can't remember the name though).

After a month of restaurant hopping, window shopping and wandering around in general (don't judge me...I did get some work done as well), me and my suitcase returned to Noida. Perfect timing...probably the best time of the year to be in this city. With winter starting to slowly creep in, the air is crisp and cool...and the pretty Diwali lights makes one want to stand around and stare...at least until the house owners start to get suspicious of you. With the short term assignment coming to a close... I'm actually a bit disappointed to be missing Dilli ki Sardi...

Back in Chennai now...I am however going to give it some more time before I put an actual location to the end of the sentence "I am based out of _____"...for now its still the suitcase.

Isn't age supposed to mellow one down... I seem to be turning into a brat!!!

Abseiling...!!!

"If you can walk…you can abseil" that's what the brochure said…or something like that. On a sudden whim, I pick up the phone and register myself with the Australian School of Mountaineering for a beginner's course in abseiling. So rubbing the last dredges of sleep from my eyes I caught the 6 AM train to Katoomba the last Saturday of February (yes, this is a long overdue post). The train ride was actually quite pleasant…although I guess it would have been a lot nicer without that slowly growing ball of fear in the pit of my stomach. A few hours later I got off at the Katoomba station and walked out into a pretty little town that was just waking up a beautiful morning. Realising that I was quite early, I walked into a cafe nearby. Pretty easy to forget all those scary mountain side images that your mind has conjured up, when you're seated at a dew drizzled table having freshly brewed coffee under the clear blue sky. Well, I guess such moments of bliss are not be enjoyed for long, and so on legs that suddenly felt like lead, I made my way towards the climbing centre.

The climb group was a small one, five members including me and an instructor. After a brief introduction we chose our equipment...a helmet, a smelly right hand glove (to avoid rope burns...eeks!!) and a harness that made no sense whatsoever. Anyways no questions asked, armed with our equipment and an extremely large picnic hamper (...oh goody!!) we drove down towards the mountains. After a few brief instructions we donned our equipment...in my case, I managed to get tangled a few times with the harness and had to be helped out by the chuckling instructor. As it turned out the glove that I had picked out...the smallest size that I could find...was still a bit too large for my hand and kept slipping off. Too late to do anything about that, so looking like bunch of troopers we headed off on the trail.

Few minutes down, the narrow trail opened into a clearing with two cliffs in clear view. We were to descend the smaller one first...about 6 mts...for a bit of practise and then try our hands(& legs) on the higher one which was approx 15 mts. Didn't seem too bad until we turned around and saw the third target...25 mts!!! Okay...calm down...let's just focus on 6mts for now.. Turned out to be a piece of cake... this abseiling stuff is easy... whew... Moving on...15 mts...the bottom of the cliff is not really a pretty sight from the top...especially when in your mind's eye you can see yourself spreadeagled at the bottom. The trick is to descend as if your simply walking back wards….keeping your legs perpendicular to the ground...not that easy when the "ground" is really a rocky side. But somehow the knowledge that the slightest slip could either turn you upside down or could bang your face into the rocks makes it a bit more easier to maintain focus. Was a bit shaky at first, but I did quite well on 15mts as well.

25 mts doesn't sound like a lot, but trust me, the sight of a huge rock overhang which we were told had to be negotiated by "sliding down till the tip of your toes, then letting go and swinging in" can make you go cold. The thought of doing that drained out all of my puffed up confidence. Nevertheless I did manage to sling in my harness and take a few steps off the cliff. Was it just a healthy respect for heights or was it a fear of bashing my head against the rock overhang, I'll never know for sure, but I pretty much hit the panic button and scrambled back up. After two more similar attempts, I gave up and sat on a rock stuffing my face with rice crackers while the other abseiled down.

With everyone in high spirits, we now move on to 35 ft...(yeah sure...big yayyee...) Any way after a quick lunch (the picnic hamper was really loaded) we made our way to another location. Thirty five freakin feet...we were standing atop a precarious ledge and couldn't even move our rubbery feet to take a peek down. I hung back, waiting for the other four to abseil down, trying to make up my mind on whether I'm crazy enough to try this. The shaken expression on another gal's face didn't really help...anyway egged on by the rest of the group (awesome bunch i must say...only wish they would pronounce my name correctly) I decided to give it a fair shot. To be honest, I think I did quite well...felt a lot more steady than on the 25 ft slope...At one point though, I lost my right hand grip on the rope (thanks to the large sized glove) and lost my footing. Must have slid down a couple of feet before I regained my footing.

Kept going steady again and then I saw my nemesis loom large right below me...a huge rock overhang... Sensing my fear (...and my pleading), the instructor yells out to carefully move to the right and slide down...not recommended though. Wasn't a wise move...should have listened to the instructor...anyway i ended up losing my footing. Involuntarily I let out a string of syllables that I can't really write down on a public blog...thats when I looked around and saw two climbers and another instructor a few feet away...grinning away at my outburst. Turns out I was only a couple of feet from the ground...

May not sound like much, but it felt like I could conquer the world after that. Like another fellow abseiler remarked, "You did this, now you can do anything!!!"

Six months down, the euphoria has disappeared, but I still have an awesome story to tell my little nephew. I won't be telling him the final bit though...we went on to 50 ft...didn't attempt that one though...saving it for my next stint at abseiling!!!