Praise the Lord, we have discovered non-sticky chewing gum. Yes, you may think we have better things to discover, like a cure for AIDS, cancer or the definitive obesity gene.
But no non-sticky chewing gum is actually a huge leap. In UK alone it is said that city councils spent 150 million pounds to remove the icky substance from public places, roads etc. This new found gum turns to dust after 6 weeks and does not stick to clothes.
Now maybe we could use this money to look at global warming issues and buy a huge freezer for the melting glaciers!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Picture Imperfect
You know we love to hoard things. Memories, photos, food, old clothes, gift wrapping paper…. Anything that can tie down the good times forever.
Photographs – these are those beautiful tools when memories fade, and you start questioning how you landed up here. They are sacred.
I am amazed how freely people show off their very personal private moments for the rest of the world. Do you need the validation of friends on how wonderful your chemistry is, or how smart your new haircut looks…how much weight you lost?
Unfortunately, to some those questions the answer is yes. When you look good, feel great, you do want to share. Yet in this virtual world, one has started seeking constant approval. So you have Photoshoped images, lightening of the complexion, removing the pudgy lines under your chin etc etc.
That’s when it gets crazy. Nothing is good enough. Not even your partner. Even he/she goes under the Photoshop cropping knife. The little bulge is immediately deleted, the extra lock of hair is chopped off, the smile zoomed in, even a touch of sparkle in the eye – your pairing must be perfect.
Artificial, rather!
Nothing in this world is perfect, not even true lovey dovey relationships. And that is the beauty of it…
Photographs – these are those beautiful tools when memories fade, and you start questioning how you landed up here. They are sacred.
I am amazed how freely people show off their very personal private moments for the rest of the world. Do you need the validation of friends on how wonderful your chemistry is, or how smart your new haircut looks…how much weight you lost?
Unfortunately, to some those questions the answer is yes. When you look good, feel great, you do want to share. Yet in this virtual world, one has started seeking constant approval. So you have Photoshoped images, lightening of the complexion, removing the pudgy lines under your chin etc etc.
That’s when it gets crazy. Nothing is good enough. Not even your partner. Even he/she goes under the Photoshop cropping knife. The little bulge is immediately deleted, the extra lock of hair is chopped off, the smile zoomed in, even a touch of sparkle in the eye – your pairing must be perfect.
Artificial, rather!
Nothing in this world is perfect, not even true lovey dovey relationships. And that is the beauty of it…
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Mirage
You move ahead trusting what you feel, what you see…Promises that ring true.
Yet when you close in you find out it was just a mirage.
A mirage you wanted to hold, but tighter you held it, the more it slipped away.
Unbelieving you go ahead, and look to move and see a new tomorrow.
Mirages once more engulf you, this time you can see it.
Yet you accept it.
The reality of illusion seems better than the isolation...
Yet when you close in you find out it was just a mirage.
A mirage you wanted to hold, but tighter you held it, the more it slipped away.
Unbelieving you go ahead, and look to move and see a new tomorrow.
Mirages once more engulf you, this time you can see it.
Yet you accept it.
The reality of illusion seems better than the isolation...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Amma
She was a beautiful, positive and a very strong lady. There was never a dull moment around her. When she laughed, she’d clap her hands and burst out loud. Her hair all silver, and had quite thinned out. Yet, she liked to dress in style. Her eyes were bright and alert. And god, if any one tried hurting her children or her family, her glare was enough to turn a person into pure putty.
This was my grandmother…
She passed away quite recently. And somehow we all knew she was planning her last journey to heaven… She had stopped eating, but still till the end her eyesight and memory was perfect. When I walked into her room, a day prior to her final farewell, she looked at me with a hint of confusion. I had shortened my hair, maybe that’s why…
And then she grasped my hand, and repeated my name over and over again. She playfully felt my face with her hands. They felt a bit cold and coarse. She used to be very diligent about using a cold cream – a brand I cannot recall – which had a white silver tinge to it. She’d then use Cinthol powder. I guess my elder brother had insisted on that over the ‘girlish’ Ponds.
As she lay down on her bed and looked at me I could not bear to see her so old, weak and in pain. She had been bed ridden for the past month and had a whisper of a body. This was a lady who’d walk up and down with a straight back, love to shop, visit new places, make friends every where she’d go and was clearly a party gal.
After I met her, she as per her nature enquired if I had tea… It was crazy and emotional. I had a major break down…nearly lost my breath. It affected my mother, as she held me whispering I get a hold of myself.
The rest of the evening passed without event. She disliked any one of us sitting next to her too long; she did not need pity. Headstrong and stubborn were the other two qualities that perfectly described her.
In the morning she passed away after seeing my father. She had slight smile on her face and looked so at peace. Even in her death, beauty had not evaded her.
Do I wish talk to her again? Yes, of course. I miss her a lot…
She had taught me some old bhajans – something called
‘Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana
Humar agana, Ji humare angana
Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana’
I remember I wanted to run off to play hide-n-seek, but she insisted I learn some songs and train my voice. I had loved the attention, spending time with her. In fact, when we would want to play Antakshari, she’d quickly add bhajans to the list.
She also loved to eat ice-cream and Fun Flips, a common snack back home. Vanilla ice-cream was a huge favourite. If she could, she’d have eaten an entire tub. And could have easily been the brand ambassador for Mother Dairy ice-creams.
Her way at looking at life was very different from the rest. Take for example an incident when we kids wanted to have lemon juice. We were watching an Indiana Jones movie together and Amma mentioned she’d make us lime juice. Now I reminded her that I just had looked in the morning, and had discovered we’d run out of lemons. She looked at me and smiled. No problem, let’s mix water and sugar and drink it now. Let’s not get worried over one missing ingredient.
I loved her, and still do. I always will. And I hope she will too…
This was my grandmother…
She passed away quite recently. And somehow we all knew she was planning her last journey to heaven… She had stopped eating, but still till the end her eyesight and memory was perfect. When I walked into her room, a day prior to her final farewell, she looked at me with a hint of confusion. I had shortened my hair, maybe that’s why…
And then she grasped my hand, and repeated my name over and over again. She playfully felt my face with her hands. They felt a bit cold and coarse. She used to be very diligent about using a cold cream – a brand I cannot recall – which had a white silver tinge to it. She’d then use Cinthol powder. I guess my elder brother had insisted on that over the ‘girlish’ Ponds.
As she lay down on her bed and looked at me I could not bear to see her so old, weak and in pain. She had been bed ridden for the past month and had a whisper of a body. This was a lady who’d walk up and down with a straight back, love to shop, visit new places, make friends every where she’d go and was clearly a party gal.
After I met her, she as per her nature enquired if I had tea… It was crazy and emotional. I had a major break down…nearly lost my breath. It affected my mother, as she held me whispering I get a hold of myself.
The rest of the evening passed without event. She disliked any one of us sitting next to her too long; she did not need pity. Headstrong and stubborn were the other two qualities that perfectly described her.
In the morning she passed away after seeing my father. She had slight smile on her face and looked so at peace. Even in her death, beauty had not evaded her.
Do I wish talk to her again? Yes, of course. I miss her a lot…
She had taught me some old bhajans – something called
‘Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana
Humar agana, Ji humare angana
Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana’
I remember I wanted to run off to play hide-n-seek, but she insisted I learn some songs and train my voice. I had loved the attention, spending time with her. In fact, when we would want to play Antakshari, she’d quickly add bhajans to the list.
She also loved to eat ice-cream and Fun Flips, a common snack back home. Vanilla ice-cream was a huge favourite. If she could, she’d have eaten an entire tub. And could have easily been the brand ambassador for Mother Dairy ice-creams.
Her way at looking at life was very different from the rest. Take for example an incident when we kids wanted to have lemon juice. We were watching an Indiana Jones movie together and Amma mentioned she’d make us lime juice. Now I reminded her that I just had looked in the morning, and had discovered we’d run out of lemons. She looked at me and smiled. No problem, let’s mix water and sugar and drink it now. Let’s not get worried over one missing ingredient.
I loved her, and still do. I always will. And I hope she will too…
Friday, March 13, 2009
What changed?
Logged to an old networking site… Been there for ages; though in the past year I have been quite invisible…
I was reading my old messages. Mails I sent, and many that I received over the years….yes I have a problem deleting old letters, cards etc…
You know, what I noticed? I was different…or may be my life was different.
I have grown up now. Become less patient, exuberant and spontaneous as I used to be.
Yet I have come into my own; I am confident, secure and more a girl than the tomboy of yesteryears. I do not exchange SMSes like a love struck teenager, and I do not appreciate being called ‘babes’, ‘sweetie’, ‘bubbly’…except from my loved ones.
I do not care for virtual friends; I have started valuing far too greatly the real world relationships.
I even look much better; gone are the flared jeans and oversized pullovers. You’d most likely see me in a snug trouser or jeans and a lovely smart top/t-shirt.
I used to laugh with little inhibition; and the people around me joined in. We used to have a wonderful time together. But the city changed, people changed, work changed and I grew up….
Today I still miss laughing with my friends and colleagues. Flashing a smile and winking at my friends when a cute group of guys passed by…. Going to sleep with no one asking me to ensure I have my cell phone, laptop and other senses on stand by in case one of the super Bosses had to ask me a trivial question…
I love my life today as a confident young professional; but I have started questioning why we all are expected to lock up our innocence and youth each day as we grow older?
I was reading my old messages. Mails I sent, and many that I received over the years….yes I have a problem deleting old letters, cards etc…
You know, what I noticed? I was different…or may be my life was different.
I have grown up now. Become less patient, exuberant and spontaneous as I used to be.
Yet I have come into my own; I am confident, secure and more a girl than the tomboy of yesteryears. I do not exchange SMSes like a love struck teenager, and I do not appreciate being called ‘babes’, ‘sweetie’, ‘bubbly’…except from my loved ones.
I do not care for virtual friends; I have started valuing far too greatly the real world relationships.
I even look much better; gone are the flared jeans and oversized pullovers. You’d most likely see me in a snug trouser or jeans and a lovely smart top/t-shirt.
I used to laugh with little inhibition; and the people around me joined in. We used to have a wonderful time together. But the city changed, people changed, work changed and I grew up….
Today I still miss laughing with my friends and colleagues. Flashing a smile and winking at my friends when a cute group of guys passed by…. Going to sleep with no one asking me to ensure I have my cell phone, laptop and other senses on stand by in case one of the super Bosses had to ask me a trivial question…
I love my life today as a confident young professional; but I have started questioning why we all are expected to lock up our innocence and youth each day as we grow older?
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