Aache Maneya Subbamma Maneli Ekadasi..

Upavasa.. Ello swalpa tintharanthe Uppitu Avalakki Paaysa.. so goes the song.. And I've never been quite able to break off the stranglehold placed on me by the song ! Come Ekadasi, all sorts of funny lil things happen to the stomach.. and its just the pressure of dealing with the day I feel..Cometh the hour, cometh the man..

The day starts off with like 4-5 soft idlis cooked by amma .. Chutney ( coconut sauce ) accompanies the rice dumplings... thats how they put it on the menu in the US..! Another lil helping is fine, after all I 'intend' to skip lunch..

That should last me half a day...or so I make believe.. but no, its lunch time at work in a few hours..The calling is too pronounced..And bereft of a dabba, i stand in the line with a tray and plate.. 2 chappathis aste, not too bad I say to myself.. hmm, a cup of oily channa, bendi fry, dal.. whats that, they have jamoon now.. Muse at the counter, weigh the pros and cons, surely I need carbs, i'm not taking rice today anyway... The jamoon cup is there in the tray unwittingly, I swear.. What will paapad do, grab a few pieces will you.. ok..duh..

Yes, my next meal would be next morning, this night I will practise austerity and self denial.. Surely, I can handle it..? Piece of Cake.. oopsy, dont remind of food :)

Time to go home.. Nearing it, the bakery has rendered the air with the smell of fresh dough and commandeers me to the scene.. En kodli sir ?? Bread kodi half pound.. Bisi en ide ? Palya Bun Bisi Ide sir, also puff, veg roll, burger.....Why did I ask ! Ok, ond palya bun kodi... ( no food tonite anyway frm Amma's kitchen).. The tang of the stuffed bun barely out of my mouth, I reach home..slouch on the sofa, throw the stuff around.. Appa comes by .. Mukundu Mari, yenaaythu.. U look tired.. ( Ya dad, too much blog read/write !)... But i'm not done yet..Feign a tired look, stretch out, sigh out loud, muse abt life ....Dad's more concerned now.. Ruffles the hair, gives a hug... Would you like some toast then with cheese ?? :)

Can you please, Dad ?/ I luv u.. where's the remote... Friends is on.. not to miss.. Dad comes back a few mins later, with fresh cheese sandwiches... Would u like Complan, kusu mari....? Ya mango flavor, cold.. thnks.. Mom is up.. Eno fitness ge hogalva ( gym, run, something)..
Illamma, ivath Ekadasi alwa... I'm like tired.. Get a smirk... Here's the lady without a drop of water since morning.. aah, she knows me too well :(

A few hrs while away at the road, the biological clock starts ticking.. Hungry, feed me.. What !.. Never won a battle with the devil yet.. Viji, eno oota plans ?/ Hmm, we can eat at my house he says if wifey has cooked..mostly has.. Muli Paratha and Stuffed Badnekaayi... Fruit Salad.. No rice though.. Will do man, its ekadasi after all.. ! Tuck into the first muli paratha with gusto, relish the second one.. modestly decline the 3rd.. Accept Fruit Salad with a lil murmur, not too much though, it can be taken back.. Sankocha Patkolde Thinni... sure, neev sankocha patkolde haaki :)

Phone rings, its Amma... " I have made Avalakki Bisibebath with raitha for you and appa.. Dont make me spill it now, it wont last till morning".. The groan emanating is a veritable one..

This is conspiracy , O lord..

Way, way up Chitragupta sighs, shakes his head and turns another page in my annals. Chapter 29 is nearing a close, he dips the stem of the feather in red ink and daubs the papyrus...Austerity, Abstinence, penance are all stricken off... Humans, U give them all.. and once in a fortnight, they can't hold.. And to think there were some brownie points there for the asking.. Yama's been tough these days..

The bandwagon rolls on, 15 days later the charade has to be re-enacted :)

Efficacy of Omkar's Yoga Class.

Dr S.N. Omkar is a Research Scientist in the Aerospace Dept of IISC, Bangalore. A savant in his own right, he is more recognized though for his role as a Yoga Instructor, wherein he transforms into a healer during the early morning hours and later in the evening running his Yoga Classes for the young and old alike and bringing about incremental improvement ,if not,holistic changes in the lives of the afflicted.

Being a product of the famous B K S Iyengar School of Yoga, he has been running his Yoga Mandir for a long time now and is a thorough bred tutor and practitioner of the science of Yoga. Having had the good fortune of being introduced to his classes quite a long time back, I am content, and thankful to him, that I haven't been dissuaded to give up on yoga, which is the case with so many who join the classes, only to give up too fast, feeling that it quite doesnt have the neccessary efficacy or the appeal, those who get lured away by the promise of the Salman - ka- six pack ab if you hit the gym, or the slim figurines they can mould themselves into if they jump, hop and skip at the aerobics class with their fancy clothes on ! For yoga is much more than all that, a thing that has to be nurtured through, given time to grow on you and discover the seemingly myriad and rejuvenating influence that it exerts on someone who practises it even with a fair bit of diligency and adherence.

No, I make no claim to being an assiduous student of it ,neither have I mastered the impossible contortions that Omkar demonstrates as if it's child play. Why, I havent been able to master the seemingly innocuous breathing( pranayama) even :) For him though , its just another day in the office ! Yet, I feel I am that much the better off for sticking to a "decently" regular routine and the palpable effect is one to cherish.. Aaha, I can decently do back bending, stand on one leg like a stork, twist at the hip, balance myself backwards on one arm/2 legs, 1 leg/2 arms(straining every sinew though !), hang upside down from the rope and feel the rush of blood to my head and stretch my hamstrings with the wonder-belt.

The lull that sets in during the class and the sounds of silence for the one hour duration serve as a welcome change from all the hustle and bustle that we would have endured during the day. Omkar chips in with interesting anecdotes and quips, a few jokes now and then and makes interesting points like the total lack of ego in sleep and hence why we experience a calm during a snooze, one which vanishes into thin air as soon as we are up and about and get engrossed in our daily activities, allowing the ego to spring back to action. Still, the import of it kinda passes over my head :)

The SuryaNamaskara is arguably the most taught asana everywhere and as we go through the various stages of it, we are told that we need to view it as a psychological, physical and spiritual exercise and its a means of attaining the absolute, the samadhi or whatever it can be deemed fit to call. I can only relate to the physical aspect of it, for after 30 such repetitions, I am waiting to exhale ! There are a whole lot of other exercises too, some done by simply using a chair, or a belt, a couple of bricks, some soft bolsters and the ubiquitous mat. All very scientific,one feels, as we go through it .. Twice a week in the evenings, we go through this one hour ritual, savoring those parts of the class where we can make a decent effort and perform the required asanas, but groaning and protesting when he twists himself into intricate and bizarre postures and asking us to emulate the same.. I wouldn't even want to think abt them..

And when it all ends at the stroke of 8, there's a feeling of a supple dimension being added to our lives, lending a vitality that serves to cope with the rigors we encounter everyday, the stiff and the sedentary et al.

The heart patient who couldnt walk a few steps but now walks a fair distance to get to class, the little child suffering from congenital deformation, the out of shape businessman who underwent a transformation, the many sportsmen who healed from career - threatening injuries, the sugar / BP patients who profess a marked improvement, the asthma afflicted making commendable efforts to alleviate their condition through the breathing exercises... The list can go on, all on whom Omkar has had a healing effect, his purport bearing much fruit when the his efforts are supplemented by his students with a zeal to heal themselves. For you can only lead the horse to the water, but you can't make it drink !

May his tribe increase..

Words are all I have

Blogging can get addictive. And there's a whole lot of things(and words) floating around in the
mind that I wish I can put down.. Yet, they are all so disparate and nothing
that could be termed as an entirety by itself to pen down.. !

So today, me decided that I'll put down such words that have been whirring in my mind
for a couple of days now, also words that I would garnered frm my daily perusals
of all and sundry, words I would have listened to and picked up from TV,
from inane conversations and anything else in general.. which I fancy using sometime..
What a colossal waste of time ! Should be the most blase blog ever :)

panegyric , gerrymander, genuflect, caboodle, Chrysanthemum, schizy,
rigamarole, crescendo, kamikaze, sniper, cahoots, conniving, chutzpah,
aura, panache, flair, genteel, gauze, zealot, machination, mumble,
schnitzel, scrawny, tweed, prude, lobotomy, aneurism, sashay,
twerp, avast, scurvy, absolute, perturbed, profligacy,
punter, quack, platoon, kaplunk/kerplunk, colloidal, Kruger,
wishlist, winged, warmonger, Riposte, repartee, ruckus..

Enough !

The Hounds of BSKVille

There they lie, the Lady and the Tramp, ever so benign
What’s all the fuss about, they care not to divine
The people of my street feed them twice in a day at nine
They call their lot the canine sanguine.


Ah, but the ears twitch, for along comes a bovine
For here’s an enemy genuine,
No less potent than the crafty feline
It they definitely should malign
If not it’ll hog their morsels by the trine
And worse, the folks think that its of origin divine.

And so they snarl and crawl
And engage the docile beast in an one sided brawl
The battle is won, the enemy is shun
The curs celebrate with tree pee and a victory run.

Its a Dog's world ??
Dogs Day Out ??
Every Dog has its day ??
WHO LET THE DOGS OUT :)

Memoirs of Miami - Of LAGUBANS, ATULS and PITHRAS

I was the johhny-come-lately, new kid in town to what would become the bunch of six
who would live in one apartment. Nix, Chobe, Anil and Guru were already there
from a year or more and Vinu had just landed frm Bombay. Landing at Ft.Lauderdale Airport from Montreal and drove through balmy weather, the smug countenance
on me was vindicated. Here is paradise man, 27 Deg C and people cooling off in shorts
and sun glasses..Too much only maga ...Montreal, was, brrrr... - 42 Deg.. Are u kidding me ?? Only extremophiles( yes,there exists such philes,google it)should live there, please evacuate all other signs of human life..

A few days into the new life, the air was abuzz in our apartment with the term of
LAGUBA.. What was it I wondered ?? Should I ask the seniors ? Will they mock me for not knowing ? Yet they asked me " Katte, do you want to be a LAGUBAN ?? "
Are u kidding me, of course I want to be one. I had no faint clue what it was,
but being the tyro, I wanted to be the cool dude, gel along with the guys
and be part of all things that are considered cool. I was thus inducted into
the Hall of Fame and felt proud to be a part of the coterie.We are in this together!
Little did I realize what was in store.

The history of the LAGUBA clan dates back to a certain sullen,troubled night in the CS Labs when the boys were sitting together and mulling what could be done about their misadaventures or lack of as regards the babe scene. Here were a bunch of guys
who hadnt got lucky or laid since the bicentennial and they were in Miami,the Mother Lode of all places and in a thriving university setting, a melting pot. It couldnt get better than this, and yet they languished in their eternal quest for the Bermuda Triangle, the Holy Grail( if we are to go by the DaVinci Code). Surely they were not nerds, why the insolence of folks to think such !

Thus, over many cups of coffe and the ubiquitous snacks from the vending machines,
that night they brainstormed and floated a club called LAGUBA. It triumphantly(and paradoxically)stood for Losers Against Undeserving Bastards ( the junta who got ridiculously lucky)and admittedly all members were pathetic losers or on the verge of becoming one ( as in my case)..Why I jumped headlong into such a club I still can't fathom. Assumptions, the mother of all screwups, to be taken literally here. I somehow have a sneaky feeling that it was derived much along the lines of Calvin and Hobbes GROSS club ( Get Rid Of Slimy Girls to counter Susie Derkins), since nix used to read a lot of them, but hey lets give some credit to the dudes, their mind was in turmoil and they came up with a superlative.

The motto/dogma of the club was clear : Invite whoever wants to join and take recourse to being a sadist,but try and get the heck out of it yourself asap.
Each to his own, but experiences and close shaves had to be openly narrated
and the word passed around of the attempts made by the bretheren.
News of those who got lucky(if well known to us and deserving) was to be applauded
and serve as a motivational shot in the arm. News of those who hadnt become members, were despised and got lucky astonishingly quick was to be washed down with booze, by crying sour grapes, by wondering if they were better off and finally venting ire
about being in each other's company :)

Many were the members of LAGUBA and many a night passed pondering aloud in unison
about the success of the other UBAs/guys. "Bhench***, uska kaise milgaya re, itna lowda aadmi hai woh, that too a phirang girl.. whats that she saw in him .. Chod, abhi tho mey frust hogya,mera number kab aayega.. here pass me the booze.. Cheers..Glug, Glug.. That magarmuch, that pichhli.. " :)
LAGUBANS would also flock to the CCCC parties ( Cake, Coke, Chips and Chootyas) to
celeb some guy/gal's bday or spring break or anything and usually come back bemoaning the lack of class ppl at these parties.

Much water has flown under the bridge since then, and forgetting the many others,of us 6 roomies, I happen to be the Last Man Standing, the Casablanca on the Burning Deck, others having entered into wedlock or some stop gap measure. I dont view them as UBAs though and am vouching for the LILO rule :)

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ATUL :

I am on the NJ Turnpike, Fall 2001 showing my friends from India around, and egged on by them,step up on the gas..Yeah, we had to cover the entire North East in 2 days and I recorded an absurd 1500 miles in 2 days, almost solo, heading as far as Connecticut and Rhode Island the first day, then as far as Luray Caverns, Virginia
and the Shenandoah National Park the next day ! We saw quite a few things too.

Without noticing much, I am doing 97 mph in the 65 zone and whee its fun ! Ha, but within seconds, is the dreaded cop behind me, siren wailing.. " Yaar maga adu".." Makla, thats the Maama here, we are screwed.. hope for the best". Along comes Polly. "License please, do you know why you have been pulled over "? ...Well, I could hazard a guess, eveything was kinda hazy at that speed.. :) The ticket is given and we are cautioned. Cool,nothing major. just 32 miles more than the prescribed limit.. The word has to reach Miami though and I am accorded a
rousing welcome. Cool dude, 3 more miles and you would have touched 100 and been in the slammer.. Awesome, what a guy.. WTH was wrong with you !

Cliffie,the zany Mallu is our new roomie. In a couple of days, its party time again
and I am lounging around as usual, no drinkie/smokie.. Cliffie,though, is sloshed bad and talking like a freak. He eyes me and says " Katte dhek re,the ATUL.. an All Time Udhaas Lund... what were you doing on the NJ turnpike at that speed ? Even SuperMan's lowda itna speed se nahi chala jaayega in space " .. He's clearly out of his wits,but everyone chokes on their drinks, doubling up with laughter.. I wish I can simply disappear :(

------------------------------
As for PITHRA, it stands for Pain in The Royal Ass :)
Ppl who got on our nerve, who we wished would loose themslves, of whom many abounded in plenty. We were royal and they were a pain, as simple as that..Cant think of anything else to write abt this, the acronym says it all !

Deja Vu

Today's mood : Shut up tight and dont rejoice till the final moment has passed :(
Out of the blue comes the call in the morning " you are required at work" !
Ayyo guru, not again... I should have clamped my mouth and not taunted my
frnds yday night, who had to work today.. what an imbecile I can become..
Shiv Shiva ?

Now, as they are all mooning me to a man and snickering, I sit and work,
missing out all the action of the 1st test b/wn India and Pak !

Rahul, I'll get you yet, just u wait.. Baddi Magane.. TMRH..

For now, I need to listen to George Carlin.

A Yen for Kabini

It’s been 2 months since we returned from an absolute smasher of a trip to the Kabini Forest Range in the Naharhole- Bandipur Belt, yet the memories of the trip linger on,
one we savor from time to time.

How can we forget the little tiger cub we spotted in the dead of the night, as we intrepidly decided to drive through the main road running through the jungle after dark. First we got to see two shining lil torch like eyes as is the case with any wild sighting in the dark. Pulling up slowly , we are amazed to see a cute lil tiger cub staring at us by the roadside, sizing us up.. Viji at the driver wheel, is confused. He resorts to switching the lights off, then turns them on, then turns the interior light of the car on and we argue in whispers if we should leave the windows on, less the mom decides to say hello out of nowhere. Patient is the lil cub, as if he is understanding this dichotomy of light display and decides he has learnt enough in his first few outings to distinguish a Ford Ikon from other cars and vanishes off into the dark, leaving us wanting for more. Oh Viji, you should have left the car as is when we we first spotted it.. Nevertheless, it’s a rare sighting, fleeting though, and people back at the resort tell us thus.

The next morning, we are out on a 4- wheel, open jeep drive in the thick of the jungle and the air is filled with an expectancy, as we strain our eyes and ears to catch sight of anything. Leopards, tigers, elephants, sloth bears, bison all abound, but are shy by nature.
Accompanying us on the trip is a guy frm IISC who's been studying the pachyderms
from 10 years. We promptly name him M.E. , Master of Elephants ! :)


Deep in the jungle, the driver signals us to keep quiet and tells us that the signs are very suggestive that we are about to watch a hunt in the wild! There is a lull that is almost ghostly and we know not what can materialize out of anywhere. We are in an open jeep !
A whole herd of deer graze nearby. Suddenly the air is filled with the wild, frantic calls of the langur in the trees, an even more impending sign of a warning to the antelopes that a predator is nearby and the whole of the jungle rings out with its shrill cries. What a piercing cry that ! We wait with bated birth, hardly taking our eyes of the prey. Everything is picture perfect. Alas, these humans ! Out of nowhere comes another jungle resort jeep full of people, chattering up a bit and even though hand signals are made to draw their attention to the situation, they are blind to it and ride through the path where the antelopes are grazing.. Startled, the whole herd take off and everything is ruined! So near, yet so far! No sightings in the morning, except for lots of deer and its related species.

Later in the evening, we are on the final trip in the same jeep. All of a sudden, the skies open up and it pours like crazy on us, the jeep has no soft top for protection. Here we are in the thick of the jungle, drenched to the core and shivering! We park near a sign post and clamber up to take refuge in the post. But what a sight! We can see the Kabini River nearby and grazing contently, unmindful of the downpour, on its grassy banks are a whole herd of wild bisons and a female elephant with its little one. Huge stretches of grassy knolls run along the river and this is as close to utopia I feel.

We decide to drive along the grassy bank inspite of the rain and are rewarded.
The bisons are hundreds in number, quite close by. What if one of them decide to charge us ? There are the only animals that the tigers fear to hunt, such is their stocky frame.
Far out on the river, through the pouring rain we spot an island and more.
There stands a couple of Tuskers and a few more elephants playing around in the rain.
Its ethereal and all we can do is take a mental snapshot and leave it at that.
These pachyderms actually swim across the river to get to those places !

We continue on the drive and to our joy , the animal sightings increase.
The denizens of the jungle are more out in the open, foraging for food.
A huge lone Tusker is dangerously close, but bounds off into the dense jungle
as more jeeps arrive to stare at him. Further down is a sloth bear, sitting on it
haunces and gazing at us. More elephant herds are round the corner,
this is amazing, this is manna from heaven, with the rain off course !!
The elusive barking deer is spotted, a whole herd of gazelle race in top flight
beside us, this is a voyage of self-discovery ! And it's all in our state.

We need to banish ourselves to the boondocks more and answer the call of the wild !

Dont miss Kabini folks !

I say a little prayer for you.. for you're a Jolly Good Fellow

It’s Krishna Janmaasthmi, a Monday morning, early Sept 2004. An all too familiar pall of gloom has set in amongst us and it seems like never ending, has been that way for the past 2 months.

Dr Anupama calls me into the ICU at Bangalore Hospital around 7 am (outside which I've been pacing all night)and lets me have a glimpse at the comatose figure of my dad, who wouldn’t feel a thing even if a sledge hammer were to be deployed on him.. She then proceeds to take out a sketch pad and draw an outline of the gastro-intestinal tract and how the liver is connected to it, how the duodenal ulcers have bled profusely and given the condition of his liver, why it wasn’t able to handle this blood loss and hence ammonia went to his brain, resulting in the coma, and muses that the prognosis of his condition is not too good at all.. "Your dad is caught between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" are her exact words, admitting they have been completely taken by surprise by the recent turn of events, having treated him so well just a week back. He's in a state of Grade 4 Hepatic Encephalopathy, a coma condition from which many never come back and is bleeding profusely internally. Ideally when I should have been learning Informatica, Cognos and other IT jargon, I am learning what is gallstone disease, how it affects the liver, what a hepatico-jujenostomy is, what causes obstructive jaundice et al..


I find myself bracing for yet another ordeal, this time a much bigger one, a final one perhaps..? A 6th admit to the hospital within 2 months, with 4 of them ending up in being confined to the ICU for long periods can take its toll on anyone's nerves, mentally and physically. The hospitals had become like a 2nd home, such was the frequency with which dad used to take sick each time after being sent home and go back for further treatment. Invariably, I became privy and accustomed to the whole gamut of activities that transpires at these places, new borns being ushered in with bonhomie and proud parents feeling on top of the world, and yet not very far off cadavers being wheeled out
to their final resting places, causalities being brought in, bleeding profusely, lesser by a limb or a finger perhaps, people recuperating and on their way out… Here’s one place where we can both ends of the spectrum. I feel very fatalistic and realize how fragile things are or can get to be within a few seconds. It’s all pre-ordained, ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.. Who said that now!


The main doc, Dr Naresh Bhat, a brilliant GI surgeon, promises nothing, but states that he is confident dad will come out of it once the bleeding stops and he has to carry out a risky endoscopic procedure to enter the GI tract and plug the bleeding ulcers etc.
Seeing him in such a state in the ICU with tubes jutting out of seemingly everywhere is depressing. At 71, what he’s been going thro from 4 yrs, I can’t fathom. And for no fault of his, to think a simple laparoscopic procedure to remove his gallbladder, should result in surgical faults and damage his bile duct and liver … Why, why ? Karma Philosophy?


It’s a sombre Janmaasthmi that night and we just pray. 3 days later, Dad is showing signs of coming out of it and is responding to oral commands and stimuli and starts to moan and groan, not having got back his speech as yet b’cos of some brain lag. A day later, he responds to my queries, the voice sounding like a robot though, but one I will take gleefully! He blinks continuously like a new-born and berates the nurse for not understanding his moaning. Apparently he was asking for coffee from one day, but no one understood him ;)

A week later, he’s back at home and recovering, though much of the liver has been damaged and cannot be salvaged, we have to leave it at that. He’s been better since then,
but the ramifications are present. Still, today as he sings “Hari Kunida” and “Sreenivasa Neene Paaliso” ever so sweetly and chimes in with mom during our evening prayers, we realize there’s probably a reason for him to be with us, a reason only a force unknown to us is aware of. And we are ever so grateful for that.

I can rewind back in time to the years gone by, easily 20 of them. How he used to hustle and bustle with activity, being one of the main support lines for the 18 member strong joint family we lived as for years together, always sacrificing for the house, helping out monetarily when kith and kin were in trouble, always the most sought after by kids to get pampered or to take them out. A hardy Bajaj Chetak served as his faithful companion, taking him into all the gullies and alleys in bizarre areas we never knew, for buying quality stuff, be it vegetables or exotic electronic supplies ;). The Chetak also served as a handy accomplice to take us kids out ( 3 of us at a time) to nearby KrishnaRao Park or Bugle Rock and hit balls miles high in the air for us to catch and then bowl us gentle offspin for us to thrash it all over the park. I was told that I used to be adamant to eat food only if he made me eat it and the trick was to take to me the window sill and seat me on it and show me an eagle in the sky and while I gazed at it, he would slip in many morsels!

Much before the scooter came though, there was the bicycle in which he used to take me to the swimming pool at 430 am for the coaching batch, and it never failed to be a magical ride for me as a 10 yr old to wind thro deserted Gandhi Bazaar at that hour and see all sorts of people getting ready in the dark to ply their wares! Not too confident about the swimming coach’s skills, he would jump into the pool after a while and practically taught me swimming finally. He’s an expert diver and swimmer and I still cannot quite get the fluidity with which he breaks water while diving /swimming! I thought Dad was a champion then, and use to look up to him with awe. My other cousins and friends loved him as well, for he taught them swimming, played cricket and carrom with them, took us all out regularly to the movies, parks and tiffin. Kamat, Ullas and Lakeview were places we looked forward to be taken as well as all the Disney Movies that used to come up in Galaxy and Rex…. Aah, what lovely days, them. I remember how he got the first color TV, a SONY from a friend from Singapore, for the house in 1985/86 to watch the Seoul Olympics and it was simply delightful! The whole house would assemble together on Sundays at Ramayana and Mahabharata time, intently watching the good prevail over the evil and listen to the morals being imparted to us by 2 cute grannies, while chowing on Mandakki Puri and Rave Unde and all sorts of delicacies that would be up for grabs. The house would be the rendezvous point for all functions, weddings and ppl coming from out of town and never short of a crowd!

Realms can be written about dad, but it would never end. I have learnt since that he was a socially active fellow in his young days and had done a whole lot of things from chopping firewood when they were poverty stricken way back in the 1940’s to pulling chariots during festivals at many places and clambering up coconut trees to pluck a whole bunch of them. He was also called to sing bhajans at a few houses, was no mug at cricket, football or the street games and was quite good looking, who couldn’t tolerate people disrupting his well combed hair or wrinkling his carefully, ironed 1 set of good trousers and shirt ! I can recall the ease with which he used to spin a top (bugri) on his palm or strike marbles so accurately and an accounts officer career at HAL gave him an eye for detail for things. An all-rounder in short and an immensely popular fellow with friends and relatives alike, who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Today though, as he comes up to me frequently, during the nights or whenever I am at home and tries to find succour in me to ward of the depressions and sleep disorders brought about by the state of his health, I feel life has come a full circle for him. It’s the circle of Life, it’s the wheel of fortune goes the popular song. And I feel bad for being away when he took ill and suffered for 4 years, but never called out to me. What parents endure for their children, the unconditional, unrequited love they always have to offer!

You’ve been terrific, Appa and nothing less. And I would be glad if I can give back even a lil bit of what you have done. I know I can’t. I love you, TMD.

Sun Champa, Sun Thara, Koi Jeetha, Koi Haara...Its just another manic Monday..

Que Sera Sera, whatever shall be, shall be..
Though impractical, its nice to become myopic and cry sour grapes
for a short while, as you try and pursue all lines of thinking
and arrive at the same conclusion, thus vindicating that the
grapes are indeed sour, bitter and I am better off for not
getting them... :)) Huli draakshi, thu..

Today's mood :
nonplussed, digressive, go for pot,turmoil within,
meandering mind.. all effective tools for the devil's workshop.
A possible outcome of a kinda hectic weekend ??

Nothing to do yet today, will read Notes to Myself again, its bailed me
out of such quagmires before. And also reproduce a few here, cos I have
all the time ! Hugh Prather has proven to be an alter ego for millions !
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"When I see I am doing it wrong there is a part of me that wants to
keep on doing it the same way anyway and even starts looking for
reasons to justify the continutation."

" Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes
and I am left the same as I began. The more things change the more I
am the same. It appears that my life is a constant irony of maturity
and regression, but my sense of progress is based on the illusion that
things out there are going to remain the same and that, at last, I have
gained a little control. But there will never be means to ends, only means.
And I am means. I am what I started with, and when it all over I will be
all that is left to me"

" There are occasions when I talk to a man who is riding high on some recent insight or triumph, and for the moment life probably seems to him
to have no problems. But I just don't believe that most people are
living the smooth,controlled trouble-free existence that their careful
countenances and bland words suggest. Today never hands me the same thing
twice and I believe that for most everyone else life is also a mixture
of unsolved problems,ambiguous victories and vague defeats - with very few
moments of clear peace. I never do seem to quite get on top of it.
My struggle with today is worthwhile, but it is a struggle nevertheless
and one I will never finish"

" Why do I judge my day by how much I have accomplished"

" As I look back on life, one of the most constant and powerful things that I have experienced within myself is the desire to be more than I am at
the moment - an unwillingness to let myself remain where I am - a desire
to increase the boundaries of myself - a desire to do more, learn more,
express more- a desire to grow, improve, accomplish, expand. I used to
interpret this inner push as meaning that there was some one thing
out there I wanted to do do or be or have. And I have spent too much
of my life trying to find it. But now I know that this energy within me
is seeking more than the mate or the profession or the religion, more even
than the pleasure or power of meaning. It it seeking out more of me ;
or better, it is, thank God, flushing more out of me. "

"Eloquence is sometimes lyrical, sometimes powerful, but always an
overstatement and always a projection"

And lots more...

But I need to stop .. for I just learnt that tomm is a holiday
on account of Maha Shivaraatri !!
Yippe, Tweedledum, Tweedledee is out, I am cherubic,cheerful,
chivalrous, a lot more.. Aha, the vicissitudes of life and the
simple pleasures that change me !