infant woes

The NBC sitcom, FRIENDS, happens to be one of my favourite shows. I watch it all the time, and recently when I took a "How well do you know the sitcom FRIENDS?" quiz on facebook, my result was "FRIENDS guru". My fascination apart, I watched a real cute episode and I had to share my thoughts on it. I am talking about the one where Monica (one of the characters) while trying to play "fly an aeroplane" with Ben, her nephew (her brother, Ross's son), ends up hitting his head against the wall. The little guy, who apparently is only learning to speak, is able to blurt out only two words after the accident: "Monica bang" (Worth mentioning at this point is the aunt's happiness that her nephew can say her name and the fear that she may get caught for the little bump on his head!!). This episode got me thinking about the numerous times people have done that to their little ones (mm, I can see that guilty smile as you read this!).

An incident that occured quite long ago in my life will prove my point. When I was a little girl (I got this story from my mom, though she doesn't seem to remember this now!), rather more of a baby, to be exact when I couldn't talk, my mum, dad and I lived in a joint family, I know I know...loads of people to look after the little one, but well that was precisely the reason, I could get dropped and the act would go completely unnoticed.

My father's sister, then unmarried and really young, used to live with us. She was nuts about children and would simply not allow anybody else to hold them. And so when I was born, she could never get enough of me. She would fuss around and ensure that only she fed me. All that attention aside, one evening before my mom could return from work, my aunt was dutifully carrying me around, and generally trying to show me a good time. The innocent bundle of joy that I was, I cheerfully tagged along (like I had a choice). We went out onto the balcony, enjoyed the flowers and when the bees started to annoy we decided to go down and wait near the gate for my mom to return. The staircase it had to be, so while making our way down, my aunt dropped me right on the stairs. I went tumbling down till the last step and stood up crying. I was hurt on my lip and no where else, luckily enough. My aunt, after she realised what had happened, came running after me and helped me up. Damage done, she shushed me and I quietened.

My mom came home, saw me with the hurt lip, and did not quite understand what had happened until my aunt sheepishly told her what she had done. Me, I was too small to blame somebody for my accident and if my mom had not noticed this might have just been another accident gone unnoticed.

I was lucky in the sense, my aunt was old enough to admit it, but when the predator is old enough to know they are wrong yet young enough to not own up, well, then the baby is in biiiiig trouble.

This reminds of one really funny incident that took place long time ago. I am just the third person here and nobody need get ideas about me being the tormentor!. The protoganists are two little cousins of mine. The predator (girl, older sister) was about 4 yrs old and the prey(boy, younger brother) was 2. So here goes the story:

The little girl lived on the floor above the boy. Now as is the case many times, before the little boy was born, the little girl ruled her house and the one below her's. When the little boy was born, her regime abruptly ended. PYT (poor young thing!) wanted to extract revenge. Revenge for walking into her lair, revenge for uprooting her rule, revenge for becoming the apple of everyone's eye. She waited and planned for two painful years so that the moment was right. He was 2 and she was 4. He was still learning to speak (boys, she thought, they take time don't they?). So one day, when nobody was around, she quietly crept up behind him and pinched him. She pinched him so hard that he began to cry, and loudly too. Now, when a little boy cries all the people in the house simply run to his recuse. She then came into the room just like the others(well before everybody could come, she snuck out and ran back in like everyone else!) to see what had happened to her wailing brother. Sheer intelligence, I say. She took charge of the situation and started hitting the wall saying "You bad bad horrible wall, how could you hit my brother" . AWW.. that was exactly what everybody said. She simply loves her brother, they went on to say, and then they left the room. Miss Predator had found the perfect revenge. She would do it every now and then and get away unwatched. Well, good times don't last long, and so it was that an aunt was actually watching the scene unnoticed (by the little girl!). She found what the little girl was doing and the attacks ended. Everyone got to know what was actually going wrong and life was now a lot happier for Mr. Prey.

My point made, I assume. Infants are in such a stage where they really cannot tell what happened or who did what to them, at the same time they are hurt, the poor things, and they cannot help wailing. Such are the infant woes.

From Corporate to Govt.: a small leap - Part II

MY PROJECT'S FIRST REVIEW CAME UP FOR PRESENTATION

I was at sea. My laptop did not have any reserve power. I went to Manmohan and apprised him of the situation. I was sweating. He calmly replied that this would not be a cause of concern. I was flummoxed!!!! The Speaker asked me to explain to the House on what were my plans for the Unique Identity Project. I replied that I have a plan prepared for 30-60-90-120 days' milestones and I have presentation to make for which I need a power socket, a projector and a screen. I had no idea what was going to happen after

this.

The next couple of minutes were a complete jolt for me. I was completely in a tizzy. Let me just summarize what happened. A Joint Cabinet Secretary Committee was set up to judge the feasibility of my request. The Under Secretaries for the Ministries of Power, IT and Broadcasting will prepare a Viability Report after scrutinizing National Security threats to my request. This was because the power socket comes under Power, laptop comes under IT and projector comes under Broadcasting. I have also been told to reconsider my timelines of 30-60-90 days and start thinking in terms of years. Probably, they are right. I did not have the foresight in this matter.

The summary of the issue is that I need to come up with a more inclusive, democratic, comprehensive long term plan for this project to be executed over the next five years. I have also been given a presentation slot 3 months from now (by which the issues related to the power cord etc will also be resolved). I am filled with mixed reactions. I was planning for a quick resolution; the management wants a strategic solution. I come out of the House and text Murthy.

You won't believe it but these guys work just like us. I am on a NATIONAL BENCH for the next three months!!!!!!!

That wasn't much of a transition I guess. But ofcourse, one has to compromise on factors like power sockets and projectors (like they are really going to raise security threats!).

Just for the record; terrorists have stopped attacking govt. officials (to hell with the oldies in the govt. office, they hardly represent the people), rather they have taken to tormenting real people with real lives. That is just my opinion. Theories apart, this was altogether a good read and being the complete IT professional that I am, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

From Corporate to Govt.: a small leap - Part I

I have been on a silent spell these days, I guess my issues with regularity is obviously visible, but well I have been doing some good amount of reading. Now, that I guess seems like a good excuse. I came across this passage and like any good reader, decided to share it.

Apparently this was written by a guy named Nandan Nilekani.And this is what he penned after his first day in the Parliament. The last entry stopped when the House was just about to begin. He wrote:

The House was in pin drop silence. I was brimming with anticipation and excitement!!!! Manmohan had informed me that my introduction was one of the important points of the agenda. I hoped that I will be able to make my speech properly.

After so many interviews and conferences, I was nervous today!!!! After the Speaker indicated that the proceedings of the House could begin, Manmohan formally introduced me to the entire House. He mentioned that as the head of the Unique Identification Authority of India, I was responsible to ensure that each and every Indian had a digital smart card as a proof of his existence. Manmohan spoke about why I was selected and also some references to the various projects executed by me in Infosys were mentioned. The House listened with rapt attention. I was asked to say a few words and I did exactly the same!!! I thanked the Government of India for having given me this opportunity and I assured the House that I would strive to successfully deliver this project. The Speaker then formally inducted me into the House and before the proceedings could move any forward, there was a small commotion on the other side of the hall.

It was Minister of Textiles who had a comment to make before the next point on the agenda. He made a request that I should be attired in a more austere way instead of a flashy suit. It did not go well with the image of a minister who should live to serve the common man and should be less ostentatious in his habits. I stood up to reply. I offered my apologies to the Honourable Minister and assured that I shall be in a more acceptable dress next time. I felt that he was right. We also used to have corporate dress code in Infosys. So it's here as well!!!!

I sat down and felt somebody nudging me. I turned around and to my surprise; it was the former Indian skipper and one of my favourite batsman Mohd. Azharuddin. I remembered that he had recently won the elections. I smiled at him and mentioned to him that I used to like his game very much, shaking his hand. No Rolex, I noticed. Azhar told me that he would "fix" me an appointment with an Italian designer who had designed his dapper Kurta suit. An Italian designer in Milan doing Kurtas!!!!! I made a note of this and reminded myself to give this example to Friedman for his next book," The World Markets are flattened".

Since there was no doubt about the "Fixational" capacities of Azhar, I told him to give me the details and I would consider. The proceedings of the House went on with numerous bills being debated and passed as I sat as a passive audience waiting for my project's turn to come up. After the lunch break, it was the moment for me!!!!

... to be contd.

Mr. (grim) ReaPer!

After immense deliberation I have decided to tell the story of Mr (grim) ReaPer. Let's just call him RP for now (well his name is Ravi Prasad). Mr. RP was my professor in college, an authoritarian(not in a good way!) and was proficient in Computer languages, at least he thought so and we were "forced" to believe him. No offence meant, I am surely not the type who disrespects, or thinks lowly of a lecturer, infact I respect them and admire their noble profession, but with this one I had to make an exception.
RP sir, as we called him, was what you may call a very under average looking tall and extremely well built man, a non professor looking and more of an office boy type. I can prove my observation with an incident.

It was the first day of college and a fresher, with absolutely no idea of the teaching staff, found a guy fixing the tube light in a classroom. He was lost in the corridors while trying to figure out his classroom, and on coming upon this person asked him where the first year classroom was.
Of course the student assumed he was the college peon and asked him in a tone that sounded something like this : "Namaste Anna (Brother, more of a slang) where is the first year classroom?" The "college peon" gave him the necessary directions, and the fresher thanked him with the "Thanks anna!" and left for his classroom. The first class for the fresher hadn't started and when the lecturer walked in a few minutes later, you guessed right, the fresher was sorry for the rest of the four years and RP made sure of it.

Looks aside, RP was generally a very unsophisticated individual who used abusive language on the students. The moment he entered the class you could actually hear the pin drop. Not respect, it was fear. He had an annoying policy of not letting people take notes during his class. In his words, you had to listen and vomit them into your notebook later when you got back home. And if ever, god forbid, you were caught in the act of taking down notes during his class, dusters, chalks and swear words would fly around. The fiasco would end with your being kicked out of the class, maybe for the rest of the year, whichever favored his interest.
Throughout my four years of engineering, there was never a time when he wasn't assigned a subject in my class. Thanks to the hype, created around him, when he came to teach us Information Technology and Numerical Methods (ITNM) in my first year, I was eager and happy. Little did I know then, that I would be taught only Information Technology (IT) with the Numerical Methods (NM) part left out for self study. Can I say that I had learnt everything, atleast within the prescribed syllabus, before I appeared for the exam, nope. RP would give us the worst slip tests ever, not to forget the next morning questionnaire on what we had previously learnt. One may think, that the student would have to be dumb, or close to illiterate to fail the final exam, given the circumstances. But, it was just the opposite, it was considered sheer genius if you managed to ace your semester exam. After the numerous classes he took , when my exam was nearing and I opened my textbook, what I found in there was nothing short of rocket science. My belief, given the right lecturer, rocket science is understandable that is how I grade my intelligence (I am a good student and a quick learner!), and here I was reading a simple IT textbook, prescribed for the average intelligence of a first year student, and yet, it was indecipherable only because his teaching had confused me totally. I feel grateful and blessed that I was able to pass my exam with decent marks. Another incident that took place during the exam is mentionable.
While writing the ITNM exam, Mr. RP was prowling the exam halls, looking into student's papers trying to get a peek into what the students were actually writing (considering the fact that he hadn't taught anything). I remember clearly that evening, one of the students was commenting about how RP sir woke him up when he was dozing over his paper, and then how he was hovering around the area to make sure that the student wouldn't get back to it. Another student was also talking about how RP was peeping into his exam paper and how he kept trying to hide what he had written. The student also dared to comment on the situation. He said something like this: "That guy taught us nothing, what was he expecting to see in our exam papers anyway " I liked that one, and laughed my hardest that day.
When I safely graduated to my second year of engineering, Java: Object Oriented Programming it had to be.
This time I was careful, I studied before hand, but nothing was ever enough. There is this really funny incident that I must narrate.
Mr. RP walked into the class one day and asked the students if any body understood what "public static void main" in a java program meant. "The entry point" was the common answer.
He wasn't satisfied and he started asking everybody around. If we couldn't answer the question to his satisfaction, we had to remain standing. RP caught hold of one guy who he thought knew the answer, and kept telling that student (our hero!) about how wrong all the answers were. When actually, this guy did not know the answer himself. I assure you he was pretty afraid to own up to RP. The drama went on till the whole class was standing up, and then RP finally asked our hero. Rest was hysteria!
RP stories were all over the place, too many to count. Students, even the college management said his name in fear, He-who-must-not-be-named. Personally speaking, I loathed him. I hated every class that he took, and I considered his teaching methods and general student-teacher relation miserable. And I sincerely believed that because he never had any knowledge of the subject, he just went about terrorizing students. He, for me, was synonymous to Grim Reaper. No offence meant, once again, but that was just RP.

stationeryphillic

I am what you may call a stationeryphillic (I know that no such word exists, ;) my editor shows me the red). I have an unnatural attraction for anything that can be termed (or even remotely called) stationery, from the smell of an old textbook to the wood shavings of a newly bought pencil, I love it all.
Most people ask me (obviously it is a visible madness) as to when I caught on to the addiction, and well I say :

For 3 generations now we have been loving, collecting and truthfully obsessing over our stationery, it just runs in the family! My grandfather loved it, so does my uncle and now me(two other cousins have followed suit, both younger!).

My first hints of fondness for stationery showed when I began using colors. Paper and crayons was a lethal combination. I would sit with them for hours together, coloring every thing I could lay my tiny hands on, so much that at the end of the day I would be crying with a headache(I am a migraine patient!) but the very next day (despite my mom's consistent warning) I would be back to where I had left off the previous day. My fondness only amplified as I grew older and some very influential people in my life only made the penchant grow.
My grandfather (a strong influence on my personality) was my first inspiration. He had this zipper bag full of pens, there were parkers, pilots, ball points, and the then famous hero pen which he would specifically ask my mom to bring from Madras, he also gave me my first parker pen. He had a fancy for staplers, gem clips, adhesive and the like, and would want to have them in plenty all around him, always. He was an author, mind you. His pens (pena, as he would call it, I just loved/love/will love everything about him!!) were his favourites and he taught me to treat them the same way as he did, that was when in school.
I moved to college and there I had, influence no. 2, my uncle. He being my grandfather's son, also had a similar looking zipper bag. With him there was a difference. He dint just house his pens, there were pencils in plenty, well sharpened, and erasers, ofcourse a pencil sharpener, a scale, some glue, some colored pens, I'm not drifting it was all there(Not that my grand dad did not have those other things, only they were scattered). I was supremely attracted to that pouch and though I always had pens I would want just one more from there. Every morning, I used to see my uncle sharpen those pencils before he left for work despite the fact that his secretary could fish out a well sharpened pencil when asked for. This stationeryphillic not only loves his stationery he is super methodical too. I have tried being that methodical many times but (for lazy people like me) it never worked.
And so, because of all the impact, I, Manasa, soon joined the club of the zipper pouch-ers. I had/ have my own pouch (a cuter girlie version!) with dozens of pens, ranging from fountain tips to ball points, parkers included, innumerable pencils from regular wood pencils to pen-pencils, color sketch-pens, hi-liters, erasers of different shapes and what not. I also have a collection of notebooks that I have picked up over the years. I don't let anybody borrow my stationery, because I strongly feel "Stationery lent is stationery lost!".
I obsess over my stationery and to this day, go bonkers the moment I see nice looking notebooks, pens, pencils, colors or crayons. At the moment, I am a homemaker(a temporary status), not desperately in need of stationery but well, yesterday when I walked into walmart, and found a nice notebook set aside for clearance sale, I simply had to have it.
And now you know, my friend, why I call myself a stationeryphillic. I am proud to be one.

Celebrating Mom's day.. Calvin style!

I couldn't think of a better way to wish my mommy on Mom's day, and Calvin just knows how to say it right!
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MAAA!!

Wednesday: A Movie Review and some more!

I sat, one Saturday night, wondering what exactly would be God's response to terrorists on their judgment day?!

"Well done my son, for blowing up 1000s of innocent people!?"
(or)
"After your calculated, ruthless and insensitive attack did you really expect to see me, fry in hell!!"

In all probability the later. Most people may wonder as to why even give the first option , apparently the reason why terrorists attack is because they believe it is sanctioned by their religion, and hence the statement.
What exactly got me thinking on these terms was a movie that I saw the same evening named "Wednesday".
This movie portrays issues that any Mumbaikar/Hyderabadi or in general an Indian has been facing on a regular basis; terrorist attacks. The story starts off with an ex-police commissioner telling us his most interesting and memorable case. On a Wednesday, he gets an anonymous phone call from a "supposedly assumed" terrorist, who just claims that he has planted bombs in different parts of the city. He has demands(like any terrorist), he wants 4 terrorists who have been captured, to be bought by two policemen to an unopened runway. The ex-commissioner does not believe him, and so the Mr. Terrorist, to prove a point, tells him that he has planted a bomb in the police station opposite the commissioner's office. On checking the station, they find a bomb in the restroom. A point proven, the terrorist is taken seriously and his demands met. I will not delve into the other details of the story, for the fear of giving away the plot. The screen play is commendable, and so are the performances by all the actors, specially that of the ex-commissioner(Anupam Kher) and the terrorist (Naseerudin Shah).
My perspective:
Getting back to where I started off. Religions never preached violence. For people like me, who have an understanding about religions (I m not boasting, I come from a school that preaches "Unity in Diversity and Unity is Divinity"!!), the whole idea of killing for religion just seems laughable (no insult meant to the people being affected, but in a lighter vein) and foolish. God (a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew, a Christian.... and any other religion included) is always the loving one, and I guess that is the first lesson any child is/ should be taught. I feel pretty lucky that I was given the right perspective from the beginning, unlike some unfortunate souls who indulge in acts of violence because of their lack of understanding of their religion.
Nevertheless, my dear reader, the movie was an attempt at showcasing the frustration of the common man on the issue of terrorism, and the attempt was admirable. I'd say that it is a 4 star 'er', must watch.

P.S: Please do not attempt to read the story on Wiki because, I trust you will miss the actual movie viewing experience. I have also been trying to add the video of the trailer, but for some reason (mostly technical, and my lack patience) not able to. You can, however, view it here.

for the love of the game or my man?

Can I call myself the sports oriented type? May be, may be not! I was always into games all through my school days, the captain of the throwball and baseball team (not boasting, but I was!), but once I moved to college, I completely lost interest in sports, attributed solely to the "quit-playing-start-studying" attitude exhibited by most (must say all) of the lecturers! I would find it utterly boring to sit and watch any game for that matter, be it cricket (a big deal in India!) or tennis! So, when I got married everything changed (everything does, but my non existent interest for watching sports? now, that was quite un-thought of!).
My first brush with sports watching was during the Superbowl XLIII . I still remember, it was a Sunday night and the night was young and alive (literally, well everybody in America atleast, was at home and in front of their tv sets waiting for the final match). We had a bowl of popcorn and cans of mountain dew ("favourite superbowl food!!"). My husband sat with me all morning, explaining the rules, just in case he would have to make clear right during the game. I wasn't really keen, but his enthusiasm caught on. I fretted and fumed every time Cardinals scored and jumped with joy when the Steeler's Roethlisberger kissed the cup!
Knowing/Watching one sport did not suffice, not for my husband, he is into anything that keeps a scoreboard, and so, being the loyal wife that I am I have started following every single game and cheering for the same team he cheers for!
Then came the Australian Open, when Roger Frederer played against Nadal, that historic game when Roger broke his racquet and also broke down after losing. I was up till 3:00 in the morning, all excited, like any normal fan watching that match, the only difference being I was learning the rules of the game while watching it.
There was a dull spell for a while, my excitement from the deciding tennis match had completely worn out, there was no game, finale to look forward to. And then, began the NBA playoffs.
I must confess, I have come to love basketball. Obviously, learnt the rules/ terms of the game from my husband, but now I am comfortable conversing the different facets of the game. Lebron, Kobe, CP III, KG, D-Wade and the list goes on, not only can I give names, but I also have my list of favourites.
So, what do I contribute this sudden increase in my knowledge to? Surely not for the love of the game.

love thy neighbour not!

Good, Bad or Ugly? What defines my neighbour better!? Now that is left for you to decide once I am done with narrating my tale.
I have been living in the same apartment now for over 5 months, right from the day I set foot on American soil and that, I guess gives me enough time and authority to judge people living around me.

We(my husband and I) live in a small place called Lake Hiawatha, and the apartments we stay in are the oldest(literally speaking, we have an old dilapidated box for an AC) in the place, and obviously the most reliable,considering the number of years they have housed people! They are comfortable and decent apartments with just one teeny weeny problem. Like most of the apartments around this area, the parking lots are not alloted to each individual house, anyone (obviously people belonging to the apartments) can park anywhere and so can their friends and family (I know, now I sound like a verizon wireless ad!).
Just four families share a parking area with 6 slots, not so difficult you may think, but the fact is some families own more than one car and hence the botheration!!
Having explained all that, I guess I can move on to relate the actual details. We are an outgoing lot, my husband and I, and simply love going out late in the night on long drives, just listening to the radio station with a hot cup of coffee (more like a keeping the driver, my husband, awake thingy!) in hand. So, most of the time our car is not in the parking lot nearest to our house, well, we never crib, finders keepers right?! But that is simply not the case with our neighbours, an eccentric mallu family (nothing against the community!) with two blessed cars, always watching out for parking slots nearest to their house. Nothing wrong, unless you start obsessing about it!
This is exactly how they go about their task:
The lady of the house or the man for that matter, always keep an eye on the parking lots. Most of the time, they have their cars parked next to each other, right in front of the house, like the rest of us residents are car thieves. God forbid, for some inevitable reason if they had to park elsewhere, be it at 2:30 in the morning or 7:00 in the evening, they are always watchful and ready to switch their cars into parking slots that are available in front of their house.
That is exactly where our hate relationship comes in. Every time we leave the house, and if ever we were to have a good parking spot, the "mallus" are always ready to devour it! No matter what time we leave, when we get back, the "woman" would have occupied our space. We would have probably left the house for just 5 mins, and you could still find her car in that very spot. Isn't it quite unlikely that the woman or her husband manage to get back home during the very 5 mins that we are away, every time?!
Recession is the only reason because of which we haven't moved away from their idiocracy!
Nevertheless, today happens to be a triumphant day for us. We found their cars, next to each other, this morning when we left for the beach. By the time we got back home, for some reason unknown to normalcy, lady mallu had to leave her parking slot, and so, even though there was a slot a few slots away from her husband's car, we chose to leave our car right where she had previously parked it. "Revenge is sweet" and I am enjoying every moment of it!

Art Vanda lay

People, specially the normal ones, face "spots" where they have to come up with stories of sorts! Allow me to explain:

A hypothetical situation,
You are running late for a get-together, something that is really not worth attending and yet you are compelled (due to some unspoken misfortune!) to endure the rendezvous, you tend to delay. And then, at some point, when you actually reach the scene of gather, you are to give a good reason for your absence till that moment. Now, that is when you will have to come up with the perfect cover for your hold up ("stories of sorts")!

So, technically speaking, you are about to lie, and when you are at it, it better be good.
It is at such moments that you can always count on "Art Vanda lay" !?
Now, who is he? Well, he is an anybody, a somebody and a nobody!!

I first got to know Art Vanda lay, while I was watching an episode of Seinfeld. I am an addict, if I may call myself so, of the daily sitcom and I thoroughly enjoy the "sick humor" that is prevalent in abundance! Art Vanda lay is a phony or "the perfect alibi" that George Costanza (a character in the sitcom) summons every time he is in need of a decent lie!
Let me elaborate:
Art Vanda lay works on the 17th floor of the(any building for that matter and your building may probably have just 15 floors, but that doesn't matter!!) building, is an architect of sorts, and dribbles in a potpourri of activities. He could be a latex merchant(given the scenario, specially when you are looking out for references for your resume!!) willing to hire you, or probably just a friend you went to visit, when instead you could have accompanied your mother shopping, you get the idea I guess!!
Ergo, for the normal people I was referring to, it is but natural to land in sticky situtations. So take my advice and create your very own Art Vanda lay, it pays!?!

birds of the same gender..?!

Days of abstract nothingness means loads of orkut, some amount of facebook, a little yahoo mail, some gtalk and well rejuvenation of my brain cells!
So, I sat one day(as I have been doing more often, off late) busy "orkutting" ,as many people may put it, thumbing through virtual pages for any new update I could lay my hands on, and voila, I had a new friend request!
New friends are always good to make, they don't seem to know much about you, they are all ready to explore, to build, only too eager to make it work and after all it does reflect on the how-socialable-you-are statistics! But, there is also something about new friends, after a while, you always end up finding them a little too intrusive(atleast I do! I donot take to new people that easily, I am a territorial person!), a darn little too irritating(the just not your type kinds, most of the time) and generally not interesting.
Now that I have very clearly explained my feelings towards "new friends", you may better understand how sceptical I was, of the friend request, but all the same, a little curious to know if I could reciprocate the niceties. The request read and I quote "Hi, I'd like to be your fren, can u give me ur chat id, and by the way, you look really good in that skirt(meaning my profile pic)". It sounded pretty honest, and well I was flattered by the compliment. A girl(my bad, for not mentioning the gender detail before!) complimenting another is generally a rarity, and when it does happens, it just feels good. And so, I decided to visit her profile.
The beginning seemed pretty sane, she was a single girl, living with her partner(probably a live in relationship, I thought!) and then, there were the photos that I could look at, an album named "Passions" with a couple of pics of stilettos, and a woman in a saree (a model, perhaps and yet so weird!). Then, all of a sudden, something caught my eye, interested in said "dating(women)". I was actually being hit upon by a.. er.. differently oriented person (if I may put it so!)
How did it feel? I don't know! Something like that has never happened to me, was never taught to deal with it! I can still hear mommy saying "Keep away from boys" but girls?
Probably like Katy Perry's song, it is just:

Us girls we are so magical
Soft skin, red lips so kissable
Hard to resist so touchable
Too good to deny it
Ain't no big deal, it's innocent!

If you ask me, I'd say No comments!?! I am too busy living my life to care about gender orientation or disorientation for that matter, and for the record, I simply ignored her request!

India shining!

Yesterday, we(Me and 6 other people including my husband) were in the first temple that was built in the US of A, well I am talking about Pittsburgh's very own Sri Venkateshwara temple. The temple is a beautiful one situated on top of a hill, just like it's parent(Thirumala in Thirupathi!), called the Penn Hills and like all the other temples in the US, is owned by the "stinking lo rich" (a very telugu way of saying extremely rich, but well that is just another story!!) telugu community. I must admit, the temple has beautiful architecture and landscaping, with its very South Indianish looking domes.
But, well that is not really what this is about!
I went inside the temple and found a couple of white and black men, cleaning the temple! They were sweeping, mopping, laying tiles(u get the idea, I gss!!)and what not, without their shoes!!
To find catholics(or watever!), shoeless inside a temple, actually scrubbing the floors clean was quite a sight!!
I kinda synonymize India and Hinduism, because I truely believe that if it was not for the broadmindedness(sarcasm in oodles!!) of the Hindus, other religions would have never found their way into this country, and so I say India is shining!! we rock!! :)

.. and it started all over again..!

It has been a while since I took time.. out for myself, to sit tight and write. I have grown a year older, worked in a corporate, been promoted, gone trekking and married since the last time you heard from me.
It is very satisfying when I look back.. one year and I have done it all.. Well, if you may call it, an eventful life.