Monday
7:00 am: Didi, Aaj kya banau?
7:02 am: Dal, aur…
7:02 am: Gobi.. ?
7:02 am: Haan thik hai..Actually, yeh Dal ke bina kuch curry nahi banta?
7:05 am: Kyon didi?
7:05 am: Nahi, bas aise …Dal kha khake bore ho gayi hoon!
7:06 am: Acha, thik hai, toh phir main anda curry banau?
7:06 am: Nahi, Aaj mein anda nahi khaati...
7:07 am: To phir main soya sabji banau?
7:07 am: Aaj dosa khaayenge, sambar banao
7:08 am: Sambaar mein dal daloon?
7:08 am: Arey, yeh kya pooch rahe ho! Dal ke bina kaise banayenge aap?!
:-O
Wednesday
10:00 am: Does this graphic look good on this invite?
10:03 am: Hmmmm, it is looking a little boring.
This is an award ceremony rt? Use a trophy?
10:03 am: Trophy?? That is even more boring, no?
10:04 am: Yeahhh.. mmm true. What about a Red Carpet?
10:04 am: That will not suit this creative I feel..
10:05 am: Ok, so see what else we can do then.
I have to send so many mails, will discuss in a bit, ok?
------
10: 15 am : Arey, why have u used a Red Carpet?
10: 15 am : Actually I was wrong, it fits pretty well..take a look..
10: 15 am: No No!! it looks weird…..remove it!
10: 16 am: Then I will put a trophy?
10: 16 am: Trophy? Who said anything about a trophy! Think Out of the box yaar!!
:-/
Saturday
11: 00 am: I want to go out.
11: 02 am : Ok, but where?
11: 02 am: Movie?
11: 02 am: Ok, which one? You want to watch the latest Julia Roberts flick?
11: 03 am: Nope, that one has bad reviews on IMDB.
11: 04 am: So let’s go for something else
11:04 am: There doesn’t seem to be anything else, anything that WE haven’t seen! Tch!
11: 05 am: Ok, then decide. You only said Movie!
11: 06 am: OK, forget movie then..
11: 06 am: U want to go to Hard Rock?
11: 07 am: Actually I was thinking let’s go for a play..
11: 07 am: Ok, which one?
11: 10 am: Oh no, I just checked… this week they have some pretty lousy ones...
Hard Rock sounds like a good idea.. but on second thoughts,....…
11: 10 am: Can we just go for a drive instead?
11: 10 am: Oh I was just about to say that. But the maid comes in two hours..
will we be back by then?
11: 12 am: Silence
11: 12 am: Why are you not saying anything?
11: 13 am: What do you want me to say? You make the plan..
11: 14 am: Ok, So I will. There has to be some movie worth watching..
there definitely has to be. Let me check…
11: 14 am: Silence. Zzzz…
11: 15 am: ??? WHAT!
11: 16 am: Nothing at all! Wake me up once you have made up your mind.
:-I
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
On Reading......
I was born with a reading list I will never finish.
- Maud Casey
So were many.
My fondest memory of reading goes back to the days of Amar Chitra Katha (ACK) and Enid Blyton. Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairy Tales and My Big Fat Book of Bedtime Stories were amongst my other favourites as a child. In those days, mythology and adventure ruled the roost, at least for me. The best part about ACK was undoubtedly the illustration. Skillfully drawn images of Gods & Goddesses, kings and queens, in all their beauty and grandeur adorned the pages of these story books. Each book carried a descriptive and well written story about the lives of these divine souls, said to have lived and died for the glory of mankind. I was clearly smitten by these books and if it were not for Uncle Pai, who knows, I may have even thought Dashavatar is James Cameron’s next!
All credit goes to my mother, who used to write to ACK’s office in Mumbai and have the books home delivered. When she realized I could slowly progress to novels, she enrolled me at a library in the neighborhood where I could pick up one or maximum two books at a time. Books were one of the few luxuries that I was allowed as a child. I clearly remember this “library” was just a small room with books crammed into shelves, bursting at the seams. The librarian was a petite bespectacled lady who sat at the entrance, amongst a pile of books, eagerly waiting to make conversation with any living being that walked through the door.
In those days, I used to think the Famous Five was the next best thing after super heroes. I remember having stumbled upon a Famous Five video cassette at a local video lending library, and I nagged my mother so much that finally after a number of promises (associated with home work, tuitions and such!) she was forced to give in. I would have seen the movie a zillion times. Looking back, they are not even a tiny patch on the books I realize.
Secret Seven, Nancy Drew also featured in my library list, and no offence to the opposite sex, but I never liked Hardy Boys. Tom Sawyer, Oliver Twist, Little Women, Pride and Prejudice were amongst my first classics. There were also Tinkles, Chacha Chaudhrys, and Archies which I used to read in the passing, and in between textbooks. :D
A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.
- Martin Tupper
Along with Teenache, came Sidney Sheldon, John Grisham, Jeffery Archer and of course Sweet Valley High! SVH laid the foundation to chick lit and soon it paved way for SVU (Sweet Valley University) as well. It was also around that time that I started snooping around Femina, Savvy, and the like till my mom used to lock them in her cupboards saying these were magazines I could read later and not now!
I discovered the Ramses Series by Christian Jacq thanks to a close friend. As mentioned earlier, mythology, that too Egyptian was a must-read. Even today, when I come across a good book on any Pharaoh, I look at it longingly and we all know what happens next. :) Jokes apart, The Ramses Series by CJ definitely adds value to any bookshelf.
As destiny would have it, the miniscule library and the librarian disappeared one fine day, and yet my beloved mother never gave up. In fact she discovered one of the best libraries in the city and enrolled me and my sister there. Eloor Lending Library, one of the best libraries in Kerala, has played a huge role in my love affair with books and if you happen to stay in Cochin, it is worth a visit. They have a pretty good collection in the Bangalore branch as well.
With a better library in my life, my horizons were broadened, although my mom was not very happy with the direction in which there were broadening! I began to sneak home Cosmopolitan (Like. Really!?) Good Housekeeping, Vogue, and the other fashion and lifestyle magazines. Mom tried her best to remind me I had to wait a little longer for later to arrive!
I also started to read Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Robin Cook, Earl Stanley Gardner, Yann Martel, Mitch Albom, Michel Crichton, Robert Ludlum, Mary Higgins Clark and of course many more classics. I did try my hand at reading Vladimir’s Lolita, but I never succeeded then. Maybe I should re visit it now.
The Little Magazine was introduced to me by a dear friend and that is how I got a taste of a literary journal for the first time. This magazine is a great read if you are in the mood for some poetry and prose.
There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.
- Joseph Brodsky
Ahem. Truth be told, this was one phase in my life where I rarely read, apart from text books that is.
College (that too away from home) was a phase of new found freedom, closely accompanied by limited pocket money. Given the circumstances, naturally there were better avenues to explore and indulge than books. Heh!
Also, while doing a UG course in Economics where you are reading J M Keynes, Adam Smith almost every other day, reading any other book seemed like too much of an effort then. In my attempt to be in touch with books, I also joined a book club in college, but ended up either sleeping or playing tic-tac-toe through those classes as well. Strange!
But David Baldacci, Jean P Sassion and some random chick lit books did feature somewhere in those three eventful years. Not a single Mills and Boon, I find them awfully BORING!
Then it was time for post graduation and things changed for the better, well a tad bit. But the genre was completely different. Thanks to projects, assignments and class presentations, I had to read Harvard Business Reviews (HBR), books such as “Who says elephants can’t dance?”, “Blue Ocean Strategy” and the lot. Phew! Once in a while there would be a fiction, but nothing to write home about. One book that I remember clearly reading was “Snapshots from Hell”. Before you jump into conclusions, the 2 years I spent doing my MBA were far from hell, closer to ummm…..never mind!;)
The college library was a storehouse of books and magazines, and as a management student I know I was expected to be abreast of all what was happening in the global economy, but honestly my list consisted of mainly HBRs and now and then the newspaper. (Disgrace I agree!)
There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island.
- Walt Disney
I was clearly going through an All work and more books please phase. When I started earning my own grub, was when books were back in my life and that too with a vengeance, if you will! At least one or two amongst my flat mates, colleagues and roommates was a book lover and in those days books were lent and borrowed religiously. Every now and then, authors and their books too would feature in our daily gossip sessions.
Around this time, I also took a deep dive into Indian fiction and devoured many a book by Anita Nair, Anita Desai, Shashi Tharoor, Jhumpa Lahiri, Arundhati Roy, Jayshree Mishra, Chitrabanerjee Divakarunni, Raj Kamal Jha, Kamala Markendeya, Pankaj Mishra and so many more. The list is almost endless. (Another day, Another Post)
I also used to scout around for good bookstores and spared no book exhibitions. From my four precious years in Bangalore, I’d recommend Church Street and Brigade Road, which has some of the leading bookstores like The Bookworm and Blossoms. I could spend a whole day in the latter! There was also an old uncle who had an amazing bookstore near Koshy’s, but I think a year or so back, they shut shop.
Online reading slowly picked up pace during these years and Amazon was a dear friend when it came to reading about books and reviews. However Kindle is strictly not my cup of tea because I have never read an e-novel and I don’t think I ever will. At the risk of getting shot by JKR fans, I must confess I really enjoyed reading Harry Potter but I am more of a LOTR person.
I am also grateful that I came across Haruki Murakami, Mark Haddon, Milan Kundera, Khaled Hosseini during these years. Some brilliant authors, whose impeccable style of writing and imagination has left me in just total awe. And of course, there were many others, whose books I did struggle to finish. :I
Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.
- Mason Cooley
I must confess that now I don’t seem to reading as much I would love to. A huge percentage of reading can be accounted to online journals and blogs. Off late, a lot of short stories and anthologies feature in my reading list, and of course The Caravan. I urge you to subscribe to this one, if have not already. I am not at all a fan of politics, but this would probably be the only magazine where I survived a 15 page write up on a Chief Minister!
Flipkart tops my bookmark lists and I also occasionally visit a second hand store. Just a few weeks back, I finished the first book in the Millennium Series, and boy was it riveting and how! An excellent whodunit story, after ages.
Recently one of my friends shared her “Must - Read” list of books, a pretty exhaustive list that will take me a while to complete I realize. Sigh! Is there any job where I can get paid for reading and then some more reading, anyone??
At the moment, Songs of Blood and Sword by Fatima Ashraf seem to be screaming for undivided attention.
There goes my scribble.
- Maud Casey
So were many.
My fondest memory of reading goes back to the days of Amar Chitra Katha (ACK) and Enid Blyton. Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairy Tales and My Big Fat Book of Bedtime Stories were amongst my other favourites as a child. In those days, mythology and adventure ruled the roost, at least for me. The best part about ACK was undoubtedly the illustration. Skillfully drawn images of Gods & Goddesses, kings and queens, in all their beauty and grandeur adorned the pages of these story books. Each book carried a descriptive and well written story about the lives of these divine souls, said to have lived and died for the glory of mankind. I was clearly smitten by these books and if it were not for Uncle Pai, who knows, I may have even thought Dashavatar is James Cameron’s next!
All credit goes to my mother, who used to write to ACK’s office in Mumbai and have the books home delivered. When she realized I could slowly progress to novels, she enrolled me at a library in the neighborhood where I could pick up one or maximum two books at a time. Books were one of the few luxuries that I was allowed as a child. I clearly remember this “library” was just a small room with books crammed into shelves, bursting at the seams. The librarian was a petite bespectacled lady who sat at the entrance, amongst a pile of books, eagerly waiting to make conversation with any living being that walked through the door.
In those days, I used to think the Famous Five was the next best thing after super heroes. I remember having stumbled upon a Famous Five video cassette at a local video lending library, and I nagged my mother so much that finally after a number of promises (associated with home work, tuitions and such!) she was forced to give in. I would have seen the movie a zillion times. Looking back, they are not even a tiny patch on the books I realize.
Secret Seven, Nancy Drew also featured in my library list, and no offence to the opposite sex, but I never liked Hardy Boys. Tom Sawyer, Oliver Twist, Little Women, Pride and Prejudice were amongst my first classics. There were also Tinkles, Chacha Chaudhrys, and Archies which I used to read in the passing, and in between textbooks. :D
A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.
- Martin Tupper
Along with Teenache, came Sidney Sheldon, John Grisham, Jeffery Archer and of course Sweet Valley High! SVH laid the foundation to chick lit and soon it paved way for SVU (Sweet Valley University) as well. It was also around that time that I started snooping around Femina, Savvy, and the like till my mom used to lock them in her cupboards saying these were magazines I could read later and not now!
I discovered the Ramses Series by Christian Jacq thanks to a close friend. As mentioned earlier, mythology, that too Egyptian was a must-read. Even today, when I come across a good book on any Pharaoh, I look at it longingly and we all know what happens next. :) Jokes apart, The Ramses Series by CJ definitely adds value to any bookshelf.
As destiny would have it, the miniscule library and the librarian disappeared one fine day, and yet my beloved mother never gave up. In fact she discovered one of the best libraries in the city and enrolled me and my sister there. Eloor Lending Library, one of the best libraries in Kerala, has played a huge role in my love affair with books and if you happen to stay in Cochin, it is worth a visit. They have a pretty good collection in the Bangalore branch as well.
With a better library in my life, my horizons were broadened, although my mom was not very happy with the direction in which there were broadening! I began to sneak home Cosmopolitan (Like. Really!?) Good Housekeeping, Vogue, and the other fashion and lifestyle magazines. Mom tried her best to remind me I had to wait a little longer for later to arrive!
I also started to read Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Robin Cook, Earl Stanley Gardner, Yann Martel, Mitch Albom, Michel Crichton, Robert Ludlum, Mary Higgins Clark and of course many more classics. I did try my hand at reading Vladimir’s Lolita, but I never succeeded then. Maybe I should re visit it now.
The Little Magazine was introduced to me by a dear friend and that is how I got a taste of a literary journal for the first time. This magazine is a great read if you are in the mood for some poetry and prose.
There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.
- Joseph Brodsky
Ahem. Truth be told, this was one phase in my life where I rarely read, apart from text books that is.
College (that too away from home) was a phase of new found freedom, closely accompanied by limited pocket money. Given the circumstances, naturally there were better avenues to explore and indulge than books. Heh!
Also, while doing a UG course in Economics where you are reading J M Keynes, Adam Smith almost every other day, reading any other book seemed like too much of an effort then. In my attempt to be in touch with books, I also joined a book club in college, but ended up either sleeping or playing tic-tac-toe through those classes as well. Strange!
But David Baldacci, Jean P Sassion and some random chick lit books did feature somewhere in those three eventful years. Not a single Mills and Boon, I find them awfully BORING!
Then it was time for post graduation and things changed for the better, well a tad bit. But the genre was completely different. Thanks to projects, assignments and class presentations, I had to read Harvard Business Reviews (HBR), books such as “Who says elephants can’t dance?”, “Blue Ocean Strategy” and the lot. Phew! Once in a while there would be a fiction, but nothing to write home about. One book that I remember clearly reading was “Snapshots from Hell”. Before you jump into conclusions, the 2 years I spent doing my MBA were far from hell, closer to ummm…..never mind!;)
The college library was a storehouse of books and magazines, and as a management student I know I was expected to be abreast of all what was happening in the global economy, but honestly my list consisted of mainly HBRs and now and then the newspaper. (Disgrace I agree!)
There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island.
- Walt Disney
I was clearly going through an All work and more books please phase. When I started earning my own grub, was when books were back in my life and that too with a vengeance, if you will! At least one or two amongst my flat mates, colleagues and roommates was a book lover and in those days books were lent and borrowed religiously. Every now and then, authors and their books too would feature in our daily gossip sessions.
Around this time, I also took a deep dive into Indian fiction and devoured many a book by Anita Nair, Anita Desai, Shashi Tharoor, Jhumpa Lahiri, Arundhati Roy, Jayshree Mishra, Chitrabanerjee Divakarunni, Raj Kamal Jha, Kamala Markendeya, Pankaj Mishra and so many more. The list is almost endless. (Another day, Another Post)
I also used to scout around for good bookstores and spared no book exhibitions. From my four precious years in Bangalore, I’d recommend Church Street and Brigade Road, which has some of the leading bookstores like The Bookworm and Blossoms. I could spend a whole day in the latter! There was also an old uncle who had an amazing bookstore near Koshy’s, but I think a year or so back, they shut shop.
Online reading slowly picked up pace during these years and Amazon was a dear friend when it came to reading about books and reviews. However Kindle is strictly not my cup of tea because I have never read an e-novel and I don’t think I ever will. At the risk of getting shot by JKR fans, I must confess I really enjoyed reading Harry Potter but I am more of a LOTR person.
I am also grateful that I came across Haruki Murakami, Mark Haddon, Milan Kundera, Khaled Hosseini during these years. Some brilliant authors, whose impeccable style of writing and imagination has left me in just total awe. And of course, there were many others, whose books I did struggle to finish. :I
Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.
- Mason Cooley
I must confess that now I don’t seem to reading as much I would love to. A huge percentage of reading can be accounted to online journals and blogs. Off late, a lot of short stories and anthologies feature in my reading list, and of course The Caravan. I urge you to subscribe to this one, if have not already. I am not at all a fan of politics, but this would probably be the only magazine where I survived a 15 page write up on a Chief Minister!
Flipkart tops my bookmark lists and I also occasionally visit a second hand store. Just a few weeks back, I finished the first book in the Millennium Series, and boy was it riveting and how! An excellent whodunit story, after ages.
Recently one of my friends shared her “Must - Read” list of books, a pretty exhaustive list that will take me a while to complete I realize. Sigh! Is there any job where I can get paid for reading and then some more reading, anyone??
At the moment, Songs of Blood and Sword by Fatima Ashraf seem to be screaming for undivided attention.
There goes my scribble.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Meeting Morris Rider
“Can you imagine….the dog is called Morris Rider!!?” exclaimed Father as he put the phone down. He had just spoken to his brother who was sending him a Labrador pup all the way from Delhi. “Morris is being brought from Delhi by Mr D’Silva and his son Peter.”
Son was obviously thrilled at the news of a pet coming home, but at the same time a tad confused about the name. Err.. Morris Rider? Sounded like a vintage car to him, but he decided not to be a kill joy.
“Dad, the pup was reared by an Anglo Indian family, that explains the name I feel. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Mr D’Silva and son will leave the following day and we can change his name.”
“Yes. I agree…. It is not a big deal.” Father dropped the subject.
Mother chose not to comment. The news of a pet joining their family, one which had a name as exotic as Morris Rider definitely added to the excitement and of course, amusement. That seemed sufficient for her.
The next day Father and Son woke up ahead of their alarms, dressed and got ready in time to meet Morris Rider. They reached the station way in advance and Father made the third phone call to Mr D’Silva, while the Son kept asking the station master for the nth time when the train from Delhi would reach. Patience was clearly not a family virtue and Morris Rider may have to live with that.
Finally the much awaited train reached the station and Mr D’Silva, Peter and of course another VIP got off the compartment to be greeted by Father and Son in much joy.
“Good Morning, Mr Bakshi. It is a pleasure to meet you finally. Your brother talks very highly of you.”
Mr D’Silva’s husky voice made some of the co-passengers turn around and his son, a gawky 18 year old stood next to him shifting his weight from one feet to the other. It was obvious that Peter was dragged by his father to deliver Morris Rider into safe hands.
“Pleased to meet you too Mr D’Silva. How was your journey? Come, let me take you all home for some excellent breakfast. Btw how is our champ doing?” Father was waiting to catch a good look.
“Oh he is great. He did not cause any trouble during the journey. He is a very friendly dog I tell u!”
“Labs are always friendly dad” quipped Peter.
Mr D’Silva ignored his son’s comments and followed Father to the car. He slipped into the seat next to Father and Son chose to sit behind with Peter with the pup's cage on his lap. It looked like a bird cage to Son, but he decided not to start a discussion around it.
The team was home in less than half an hour and Morris Rider had already started whining on the way.
“I think he is hungry… he has not had his morning milk” Peter remarked.
“Sure, Sure.. we will feed him right away” Father called out to Mother and both Mother and Son were busy with Morris Rider. He was quite a looker, unbelievably cute and cuddly for a 3 month old Labrador pup. He was famished after a long train journey and finished the milk in no time. Then he hopped around Mother, till she raised her voice to indicate there was no more food coming his way.
Most mothers typically try to be stern with their off springs and this one somehow decided to treat Morris Rider the same way as well. She kept yelling “Sit Sit.. …….SIT.”
Father heard this and ran to the kitchen “For heaven’s sake, stop it woman!.... Morris is just 3 months old. He cannot be trained at this age… for now you can shout at your son. Not the pup!”
Mother almost had a quick retort coming, but on seeing Mr D’Silva and Peter, she immediately changed her mind and kept quiet.
Son noticed that Peter was trying to control his laughter, ….maybe he has never seen anyone getting shouted at? Or maybe Father was being too protective about Morris Rider? Mr D’Silva kept a straight face and seemed quite embarrassed. Son realized that maybe he was feeling a little odd to be witnessing a family squabble, and that too for something so silly.
After a heavy meal, Father was in high spirits and so was Morris Rider. Mr D’Silva and the son watched the duo as they played.
Father would pretend like he was running, trying to move around the room, making rapid movements to catch Morris Rider’s attention. The Son was feeling a tad jealous that Morris Rider had not yet warmed up to him.
“Morrsis.. Morris… come here..” Father called out.
Morris Rider would take a few steps and then stop and wag his tiny tail and let out a small bark.
“Hahaha! Morris is so cute no..” gushed Mother
Father continued “ Morris… come to me.. now.. ….... that’s my boy ....good boy Morris!” Father took him in his lap and patted the wriggling pup. Morris Rider seemed to say “Let me GO ……..!”
Mr D’Silva sat quietly all through this public display of love and affection and Son also noticed that every time Father called out to Morris Rider, Mr D”Silva would shift uncomfortably in his chair, his face reddening. Peter had risen from his chair and excused himself with a big grin on his face.
The Son knew there was something going on, but once again dismissed it off as something trivial.
The day passed by rather quickly and most of the time the family would play with their new found friend , Morris Rider or watch TV in between. Mr D’Silva made a few phone calls and in between discussed the global economy with Father. Peter could not care less. The guests retired to sleep as early as 8 pm.
Son remembered reading in of his Enid Blyton novels about how Julian, Dick, Anne, George and even Timmy the dog would have their supper at 7.00 pm and go to sleep by 8.30 pm, unless of course they were out exploring a secret passage and snooping around with their flash lights. Then he stopped, he didn’t know why he was suddenly reminded of Enid Blyton. It could also be because that was the only book he had read about foreigners, phirangs as his mother referred to them. "Anglo Indians are lot like them you know...." he had overheard his mother tell the aunty opposite their house. She was discussing what to cook for the phirangs.
The next morning again Father and Son woke up early, putting their alarm clocks to shame, and dressed quickly to drop their guests off at the station. Morris Rider was taking his power nap.
Father thanked Mr D’Silva for having taken the trouble to carry Morris Rider all the way from Delhi. Mother packed gifts for Mr and Mrs D’Silva and Peter in an attractive ethnic bag. “Desi bags are what these phirangs are fond of” she whispered to Father.
“Good Lord! They are not phirangs , …… never mind” Father was in no mood for another altercation and he didn’t want his guests to witness another brawl.
Mr D’Silva and Peter decided not to wake Morris Rider and tip toed to the car where Father and Son sat waiting for them. They reached the station on time and Father bragged about how time management was one of his fortes, and how he had trained his wife and son to be just like him.
The men shook hands, bade farewell and just when the station master began to wave the flag, Father decided to ask an important question.
“Thank you very much Mr D’Silva…… I am sorry. I didn’t get your first name….”
Mr D’Silva quickly stepped onto the train before answering the question.
Father repeated his question. “Actually…….what did you say your first name was??”
Mr D’Silva smiled and waved as the train honked and started to move.
“Morris….. Mr Bakshi.” Then as to reiterate, he added. “My name is Morris Schneider D’Silva”
It was Father’s turn to turn red while Son tried to control his laughter. As for Mr D’Silva, he was glad that the train had picked up speed.
Son was obviously thrilled at the news of a pet coming home, but at the same time a tad confused about the name. Err.. Morris Rider? Sounded like a vintage car to him, but he decided not to be a kill joy.
“Dad, the pup was reared by an Anglo Indian family, that explains the name I feel. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Mr D’Silva and son will leave the following day and we can change his name.”
“Yes. I agree…. It is not a big deal.” Father dropped the subject.
Mother chose not to comment. The news of a pet joining their family, one which had a name as exotic as Morris Rider definitely added to the excitement and of course, amusement. That seemed sufficient for her.
The next day Father and Son woke up ahead of their alarms, dressed and got ready in time to meet Morris Rider. They reached the station way in advance and Father made the third phone call to Mr D’Silva, while the Son kept asking the station master for the nth time when the train from Delhi would reach. Patience was clearly not a family virtue and Morris Rider may have to live with that.
Finally the much awaited train reached the station and Mr D’Silva, Peter and of course another VIP got off the compartment to be greeted by Father and Son in much joy.
“Good Morning, Mr Bakshi. It is a pleasure to meet you finally. Your brother talks very highly of you.”
Mr D’Silva’s husky voice made some of the co-passengers turn around and his son, a gawky 18 year old stood next to him shifting his weight from one feet to the other. It was obvious that Peter was dragged by his father to deliver Morris Rider into safe hands.
“Pleased to meet you too Mr D’Silva. How was your journey? Come, let me take you all home for some excellent breakfast. Btw how is our champ doing?” Father was waiting to catch a good look.
“Oh he is great. He did not cause any trouble during the journey. He is a very friendly dog I tell u!”
“Labs are always friendly dad” quipped Peter.
Mr D’Silva ignored his son’s comments and followed Father to the car. He slipped into the seat next to Father and Son chose to sit behind with Peter with the pup's cage on his lap. It looked like a bird cage to Son, but he decided not to start a discussion around it.
The team was home in less than half an hour and Morris Rider had already started whining on the way.
“I think he is hungry… he has not had his morning milk” Peter remarked.
“Sure, Sure.. we will feed him right away” Father called out to Mother and both Mother and Son were busy with Morris Rider. He was quite a looker, unbelievably cute and cuddly for a 3 month old Labrador pup. He was famished after a long train journey and finished the milk in no time. Then he hopped around Mother, till she raised her voice to indicate there was no more food coming his way.
Most mothers typically try to be stern with their off springs and this one somehow decided to treat Morris Rider the same way as well. She kept yelling “Sit Sit.. …….SIT.”
Father heard this and ran to the kitchen “For heaven’s sake, stop it woman!.... Morris is just 3 months old. He cannot be trained at this age… for now you can shout at your son. Not the pup!”
Mother almost had a quick retort coming, but on seeing Mr D’Silva and Peter, she immediately changed her mind and kept quiet.
Son noticed that Peter was trying to control his laughter, ….maybe he has never seen anyone getting shouted at? Or maybe Father was being too protective about Morris Rider? Mr D’Silva kept a straight face and seemed quite embarrassed. Son realized that maybe he was feeling a little odd to be witnessing a family squabble, and that too for something so silly.
After a heavy meal, Father was in high spirits and so was Morris Rider. Mr D’Silva and the son watched the duo as they played.
Father would pretend like he was running, trying to move around the room, making rapid movements to catch Morris Rider’s attention. The Son was feeling a tad jealous that Morris Rider had not yet warmed up to him.
“Morrsis.. Morris… come here..” Father called out.
Morris Rider would take a few steps and then stop and wag his tiny tail and let out a small bark.
“Hahaha! Morris is so cute no..” gushed Mother
Father continued “ Morris… come to me.. now.. ….... that’s my boy ....good boy Morris!” Father took him in his lap and patted the wriggling pup. Morris Rider seemed to say “Let me GO ……..!”
Mr D’Silva sat quietly all through this public display of love and affection and Son also noticed that every time Father called out to Morris Rider, Mr D”Silva would shift uncomfortably in his chair, his face reddening. Peter had risen from his chair and excused himself with a big grin on his face.
The Son knew there was something going on, but once again dismissed it off as something trivial.
The day passed by rather quickly and most of the time the family would play with their new found friend , Morris Rider or watch TV in between. Mr D’Silva made a few phone calls and in between discussed the global economy with Father. Peter could not care less. The guests retired to sleep as early as 8 pm.
Son remembered reading in of his Enid Blyton novels about how Julian, Dick, Anne, George and even Timmy the dog would have their supper at 7.00 pm and go to sleep by 8.30 pm, unless of course they were out exploring a secret passage and snooping around with their flash lights. Then he stopped, he didn’t know why he was suddenly reminded of Enid Blyton. It could also be because that was the only book he had read about foreigners, phirangs as his mother referred to them. "Anglo Indians are lot like them you know...." he had overheard his mother tell the aunty opposite their house. She was discussing what to cook for the phirangs.
The next morning again Father and Son woke up early, putting their alarm clocks to shame, and dressed quickly to drop their guests off at the station. Morris Rider was taking his power nap.
Father thanked Mr D’Silva for having taken the trouble to carry Morris Rider all the way from Delhi. Mother packed gifts for Mr and Mrs D’Silva and Peter in an attractive ethnic bag. “Desi bags are what these phirangs are fond of” she whispered to Father.
“Good Lord! They are not phirangs , …… never mind” Father was in no mood for another altercation and he didn’t want his guests to witness another brawl.
Mr D’Silva and Peter decided not to wake Morris Rider and tip toed to the car where Father and Son sat waiting for them. They reached the station on time and Father bragged about how time management was one of his fortes, and how he had trained his wife and son to be just like him.
The men shook hands, bade farewell and just when the station master began to wave the flag, Father decided to ask an important question.
“Thank you very much Mr D’Silva…… I am sorry. I didn’t get your first name….”
Mr D’Silva quickly stepped onto the train before answering the question.
Father repeated his question. “Actually…….what did you say your first name was??”
Mr D’Silva smiled and waved as the train honked and started to move.
“Morris….. Mr Bakshi.” Then as to reiterate, he added. “My name is Morris Schneider D’Silva”
It was Father’s turn to turn red while Son tried to control his laughter. As for Mr D’Silva, he was glad that the train had picked up speed.
Monday, February 6, 2012
As I waited for my steak.......
Anyone could see that the Mr Yin Yang Lee was reading the menu word by word, his brows furrowed in concentration. The waiter began tapping his pencil against the note pad and his customer immediately got the hint and placed the order. Ten minutes later, the Chinese visitor was served cheese corn balls on a platter with a dip by the side. After having devoured the dish within the next few minutes, he signaled for the menu again. Now he wanted to study the items available on the main course. The title on the first page read “Chinese”. As if by reflex, he gave the menu back and turned to the waiter “Do you have any suggestions?” The waiter raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to try something Indian? What about some naan and butter chicken? I can get you some salad by the side as well”. Yang Lee nodded his head. He was all game to experiment.
Two tables behind him sat three wives of very hard working men.
W1 : “No!! I am not lying! Tanya IS going to France this summer.”
W2 : “Reaaaalllllyyyyy?? Her poor husband.. he works so hard for her nooo?? And the way she spends all her money. Tch Tch. “
W3 : “Why do you feel so sorry? Maybe he is fine with it.”
W1 : “No No,.. Maria. What Tara is trying to say is that she is not like us. At least we don’t spend it so frivolously. Ok, forget that.. why did she have to lie to us of all people? I mean it’s not like we will sabotage her trip or something. “
W2: “I knowwww sweets. Even I really felt bad you know…”
W3 : “About what??...the trip or about her lying to you??”
W1: “Uffooo… Why are u always taking Tanya’s side?”
W3 : “I am not taking anyone’s side. I just asked a simple question.”
W2: “Ok, let’s not argue about Tanya now. Btw ladies, how do you like my new Tote?”
W1: “Ooooohhh I like! Sooo youuuu! I knew I hadn’t seen that one before!...”
W3: “Its very pretty ,Tara.”
W2 : “Thank you ladies!! Mona, I was wondering why you didn’t ask me earlier. Giggles. You are usually the one who notices these things first.”
W3: “Ok, ladies. I gotta rush. Rishab has reached home from the crèche. His nanny just messaged me. Catch u laters.” W3 makes an exit.
W1: “Talk about kill joys!”
W2: “She’s always been like that. I told you we won’t be able to talk freely if she is around.. At least now you realize…”
W1: “Mmmhmmm….By the way, you know I think this time Tanya may only call her girl friends.. I just have this gut feeling and my instincts are usually never wrong.”
W2: “You serious!!!?...She will definitely ask us am telling you!!Hope your passport is in place?”
W1: “Yeah I hope she does. I have been telling Sameer lets plan an international holiday and he just doesn’t listen. “
W2: “Same here. Even Rishi doesn’t budge. And they say all we can think of spending money. It is not like we shop everyday or something………Why are they so working hard anyway?”
W1: “Beats me."
It looked like the fellas sitting at the adjacent table also found the conversation interesting.
“Dude, ye Tote kya hota hai?”
“Pata nahi, I heard it too. …ketchup pass kar….”
“Arey yaaar, iPhone leke kyoon baita hai? Google karke dekh na.. “
At the table diagonally opposite to them, four year old Sid sat licking his fingers after finishing the last slice of Pizza. His mom shot him the dirtiest look.
“Sid, Kya kar rahe ho? How many times have I told u not to lick your fingers? Sit down now, don’t spoil the cushions with your shoes!”
“Mamma what is thaaaat? ” pointing to her soup bowl.
“Soup… beta”
“I also want…..”
“But..you just….”
“I waaaaantt mommy I waaaaant.. dada.. Tell her I want nowwwwww….”
Sid’s shrill voice obviously cut across the room. Most of us at Bombay Blues waited for the mom’s reaction. She obeyed instantly and Sid was quiet. The father pretended like he was not sitting at that table. He had his eyes fixed on his pasta. This 4 year old was in one of the best malls in the city with a shopping bag overflowing with toys, parents in tow, gorging on his Pizza. What on earth was he complaining about anyway? Very soon he would have his own twitter account and maybe even a BMW.
As soon as Sid’s voice died down, the Citibank guy walked across to the fellas with a galaxy tab.
“Hi…we are having this contest on Facebook…………..can you log on right now??” Social Media Marketing has become a big irritant.
By this time Mr Yin Yang Lee had left the restaurant with his naan and butter chicken left almost untouched. I think I know what spoiled his appetite.
Across the table, my husband was buried in his blackberry while my friend focused on her juice. And of course I was the nutcase making up all these conversations in my head.
Sheesh!!!
Takeaway: If you have an imagination that can get the better of you, please DO NOT order steak.
:-/
Friday, January 20, 2012
When Mumbai runs for a cause.......
It becomes the event where celebrities, industrialists, physically challenged, the elderly, and rest of the masses come together to honor a social cause and to spread the cheer! Officially sponsored by Standard Chartered, this is one of the biggest events in the city.
The much awaited January 15th finally arrived and many Mumbaikers across the city woke up during wee hours on a Sunday morning and boarded the locals at 6.00 am. The richest sporting event in Asia had been flagged off and the crowd was trickling in.
This year too, I shamelessly tagged along with a friend, to be a part of the festivities.
The turnaround was simply mind blowing! Azad Maidan was a sight for anyone with a sore eye. It was buzzing with a sea of people including hundreds of NGOs supported by various corporates with their volunteers in colorful costumes. Thanks to my blinding orange t shirt and matching cap I must say I blended in quite well! Most of the NGOs had their own mascots and folk dancers who stole the show. Stilt walking clowns, life sized cartoon characters, teenagers parading as Yamdoots against corruption, aunties sporting No Smoking head gears….…Mardi Gras? Well, almost.
Clearly infectious and a delight to watch is the sporting spirit displayed by every marathon participant and the harmony in which the event is conducted. It is almost like the entire city tacitly agrees to all the rules and regulations to render maximum support to this mega event. All roads which constitute the runner’s route map are cordoned off the previous evening and traffic is controlled so that the participants can run in peace, avoiding the blaring horns and traffic jams. There are assigned stand points for media, police, and the celebs. To top it all quite literally, there are helicopters flying above the streets for air security cover and gunned policemen at every nook and corner for ground security. Every now and then you also see volunteers on bikes carrying bottled water. And just when you think all of this is so comforting, you bump into an ambulance. Bombs or no bombs, we are definitely good to go.
It is said that every year half marathon receives the maximum number of entries, and this year the number was close to 14,000. The following day maybe a mad mad Monday, but then who really cares? The media frenzy was growing by the minute while the on-lookers cheered the participants into the last lap of this do or die event.
Later I got to know that the winner of the full marathon Kenyan Laban Moiben took home a whopping 36,000$! I mean just what are these guys made of!? The last time I managed to complete close to 8 km (Obviously I walked the second half) on Marine Drive, I was very close to being immobile! :-/
Old or young; the passion, enthusiasm and the willingness to take on a challenge heads on (with or without medical aid!), is absolutely admirable.
And it does leave you with that same inevitable feeling. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time you tried it too??
The much awaited January 15th finally arrived and many Mumbaikers across the city woke up during wee hours on a Sunday morning and boarded the locals at 6.00 am. The richest sporting event in Asia had been flagged off and the crowd was trickling in.
This year too, I shamelessly tagged along with a friend, to be a part of the festivities.
The turnaround was simply mind blowing! Azad Maidan was a sight for anyone with a sore eye. It was buzzing with a sea of people including hundreds of NGOs supported by various corporates with their volunteers in colorful costumes. Thanks to my blinding orange t shirt and matching cap I must say I blended in quite well! Most of the NGOs had their own mascots and folk dancers who stole the show. Stilt walking clowns, life sized cartoon characters, teenagers parading as Yamdoots against corruption, aunties sporting No Smoking head gears….…Mardi Gras? Well, almost.
Clearly infectious and a delight to watch is the sporting spirit displayed by every marathon participant and the harmony in which the event is conducted. It is almost like the entire city tacitly agrees to all the rules and regulations to render maximum support to this mega event. All roads which constitute the runner’s route map are cordoned off the previous evening and traffic is controlled so that the participants can run in peace, avoiding the blaring horns and traffic jams. There are assigned stand points for media, police, and the celebs. To top it all quite literally, there are helicopters flying above the streets for air security cover and gunned policemen at every nook and corner for ground security. Every now and then you also see volunteers on bikes carrying bottled water. And just when you think all of this is so comforting, you bump into an ambulance. Bombs or no bombs, we are definitely good to go.
It is said that every year half marathon receives the maximum number of entries, and this year the number was close to 14,000. The following day maybe a mad mad Monday, but then who really cares? The media frenzy was growing by the minute while the on-lookers cheered the participants into the last lap of this do or die event.
Later I got to know that the winner of the full marathon Kenyan Laban Moiben took home a whopping 36,000$! I mean just what are these guys made of!? The last time I managed to complete close to 8 km (Obviously I walked the second half) on Marine Drive, I was very close to being immobile! :-/
Old or young; the passion, enthusiasm and the willingness to take on a challenge heads on (with or without medical aid!), is absolutely admirable.
And it does leave you with that same inevitable feeling. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time you tried it too??
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